The pool of St Branok

"We are of a kind. We shouldn't founder. Some would. I once heard a story about Walter Raleigh and the Queen. He scratched on the glass of a window with a diamond, 'Fain would I climb, but fear I to fall.' The Queen took the diamond from him and scratched underneath, 'If your heart fails you, climb not at all.' They were very careless with their property. Fancy disfiguring a beautiful window in that way! But perhaps for such sound good sense it was worth it."

"You were never afraid to climb."

"Oh no, I suppose not, and I have done some dangerous mountaineering in my time. Ben is like me. Far more than Peterkin is ... or Helena for that matter."

"Yes," I mused. "You must have been a very attractive man when you were young, Uncle Peter."

He laughed. "That suggests that you think Ben is very attractive and I am no longer so."

"I didn't mean that. You'll always be attractive ... both of you."

"That reminds me of another quotation. This is our honored friend, Disraeli. 'Everyone likes flattery but when you come to royalty you must lay it on with a trowel.' Is that what you are doing now, my dear, laying it on with a trowel?"

"Indeed not ... but I do always think of you as King of the family so you are royalty in a way. But what I said is true and has nothing to do with your status."

"You are a dear girl. You remind me of your grandmother. I was very sad when she died. It seemed such a terrible end for someone so bright and attractive ... and so young. Oh dear, you are making me morbid. And here is my noble daughter-in-law Frances coming towards us. I shall leave you with her for she is such a righteous lady who always reminds me of the sinner I am."

"Dear Uncle Peter, it is so good to be with you."

"Ah, Frances," he said. "Where is Peterkin? Oh, I see ... over there. I daresay you are longing to have a talk with Angelet. I shall leave you together. I must have a word with some of the guests."

Peterkin joined us. He and Frances told me how pleased they were to see me, and they asked if I intended to stay long in London.

"It depends," I said. "I haven't made up my mind. I have the house here and I can be completely independent which is very pleasant. Not that I haven't been given wonderful hospitality by Uncle Peter and Aunt Amaryllis."

"I understand that you like your independence," said Frances. "You might like to come to see us at the Mission."

"I intended to invite myself if you didn't ask me," I said.

"My dear, there is no need to wait for invitations, is there, Peterkin?"

"Of course there is not. We'd love to see you there. We might even make use of you."

"There is always a great deal to do," explained Frances, "especially now we have enlarged the place considerably. We have the house next door now which has made us almost double the size. We have big kitchens. We make gallons of soup each day, don't we, Peterkin? Good nourishing stuff. We're always looking for someone to give a hand."

"Most of our workers," Peterkin explained, "work because they believe in what we are doing. So we have to have most people of independent means. We can't afford to pay many people. We need all the money we can get for the work."

"I know you have done wonders."

"A lot has been due to my generous father-in-law," said Frances. "He is very helpful, particularly when there is some political crisis and he wants to call attention to the family's good works. Matthew benefits from it. And all he asks is that it is known where the help comes from. A small price to pay for the goods, as I always say."

Frances was a little cynical about Uncle Peter. I knew there was always a motive behind almost everything he did—but he did give the money to the Mission which had made a great deal of difference to it.

"Well, do come along, soon," said Frances.

And I promised I would.

Dinner was a sparkling occasion. Ben, from the top of the table, led the conversation which was amusing, witty and topical, and there were many references to what was going on in the political field. Many of them seemed to be on intimate terms with "Dizzy" and Mr. Gladstone and Her Majesty herself. There were references to the Queen's gillie, John Brown, who, some thought, was more than her gillie; they talked of the rather scandalous cartoons appearing in the press, and speculated as to whether the sly gossip would bring the Queen out of her retirement.

I noticed that Grace joined in the conversation and seemed to be as knowledgeable as any of them. Lizzie said hardly a word. She sat at the end of the table, opposite Ben, an unwilling hostess. She looked at times as though she were going to burst into tears and I noticed how often her eyes strayed to Grace, who was seated a pace or two away from her. But Grace was engaged in animated conversation and did not look poor Lizzie's way.

I wished I was nearer to her so that I could talk to her.