Midsummer's Eve

Mr. and Mrs. Cresswell sat out for Sir Roger de Caverley. I often remembered afterwards how they looked sitting there smiling, she tapping her foot to the music, looking on at their friends and family with perfect contentment.

When we retired to bed Helena and I lay awake for a long time talking about the evening.

"Wasn't it fun?" said Helena.

''It was," I agreed. "Especially for you when your devoted admirer arrived.”

''That was just like Mrs. Cresswell. She would do that. She invited (_. especially for me.”

("She's a lovely woman," I said.

"Mr. Cresswell is so different, but very nice.”

"I think he is a very good man, and he deserves his family. After all, we make our own happiness, don't we?”

"Sometimes others unmake it.”

"It's up to us," I said.

Was it? I thought of Helena before John Milward had come along. It was pure chance with her. If he had not appeared on the scene she would have been the same old Helena ... shy, diffident, feeling herself to be unattractive so that she convinced others that she was.

I was too tired to ponder the matter and slipped gently into sleep.

On the Sunday morning we made up a party and went to church. We sat in the Cresswell pew, filling it. It was a thirteenth-century church and the memorials on the walls told me that the Cresswells had worshipped here for generations.

After the service we stood outside the church for a while and I was introduced to certain people of the village. I said I wanted to look round the graveyard. Graveyards always interested me. I liked to read the inscriptions on the tombstones and imagine what the people lying under the ground had been like when they were alive. Old people ... young cut off in their youth ... and babies. I liked to be alone on these occasions so that I could absorb the silence of the graveyard, the stillness of the air. It seemed to bring back the past and I could feel I was back hundreds of years.

I had wandered a little away from the others who were standing outside the church and as I strolled round to the back of the building I found myself face to face with the vicar, who had just come out of a side door. He was still wearing his surplice.

He smiled at me and said: "You are with the Cresswell party, I believe.”

"Yes," I replied. "I was looking at the churchyard. The inscriptions on the gravestones inspire my imagination.”

He nodded.

"You are here for the week-end, I suppose.”

"Yes.”

"People come down often to stay with the family. It is a great pleasure to see them all in church. We owe a lot to the Cresswells in this village.”

"They must have been here for generations.”

"There have always been Cresswells here ... for four hundred years, I reckon. They were always good to the people, but the pres- it Mr. Cresswell surpasses them all to my mind. We're very proud [if him in the village.

He's a rising politician. They'll tell you here [hat he ought to be Prime Minister.

There are many who think he would make a better job of it than Lord Melbourne.”

"I can see he has many local supporters.”

"It'll come. He'll get the honours he deserves. There is a chairmanship coming up.”

"Yes. I have heard of that.”

"When he gets that it will be a big stepping-stone. It is important that we get the right men governing us. We want our rulers to be clever and shrewd but at the same time with a sense of morality. Unfortunately most of them seem to be lacking in the latter.”

"I am sure you are right.”

"Here I am running on. My wife says that given half a chance I'll start to preach a sermon. It has been pleasant talking to you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay with us.”

"Thank you," I said.

I heard Joe calling and I went round to the front of the church to meet him. Then we all went back to the house.

At luncheon everyone talked a great deal. We sat long over the table unable to tear ourselves away. In the afternoon we went for a walk-Joe and I with Peterkin, Helena and John Milward. I was delighted to see Helena so happy; she sparkled and was quite talkative and even a little witty. How love could change a person!

The evening was very much like the previous one except that there was no dancing, this being Sunday. Joe and I played duets and the company sang hymns and ballads, both sentimental and humorous.

When we retired that night Helena was radiant.

She said nothing until we were in our beds. Then she whispered: “Annora?”

"Yes?”

"Are you awake?”

"No," I said. "Asleep.”

She laughed as though that was hilariously funny.

^Come on," I said. "Tell me all about it.”

"You guessed.”

"I guessed something had happened. You look as though you have just kissed the frog who has turned into a prince.”

"He's asked me, Annora.”

"You're engaged.”

"That's right.”

I leaped out of bed and jumped on to hers, hugging her.

"Oh, Helena, I'm so pleased.”

"It was while we were out walking this afternoon. He asked me to marry him ...

just like that.”

"Oh, Helena, I'm so pleased.”

"I can't believe it.”

"Everyone else will. They only have to see you two together to guess what is in the wind.”

"Was it so obvious?”