IT WAS still quite dark, and the rain was turning to sleet. The professor didn't speak and Emmy made no attempt to talk. In any case she couldn't think of anything to say. The weather, that useful topic of conversation, was hardly conducive to small talk, and he had never struck her as a man who enjoyed talking for the sake of it. She stared out of the window and watched the city streets gradually give way to rows of semi-detached houses with neat front gardens, and these in turn recede to be replaced by larger houses set in their own gardens and then, at last, open country and the motorway.
Beyond asking her if she was warm enough and comfortable, the professor remained silent. Emmy sat back in her comfortable seat and thought about her future. She had thought about it rather a lot in the last few days, largely because she didn't want to think too much about the past few weeks.
She was going to miss the professor, she admitted to herself. She wouldn't see him again after today, but she hoped that he would be happy with Anneliese. He had annoyed her on several occasions, but he was a good man and kind-the sort of kindness which was practical, and if he sometimes spoke his mind rather too frankly she supposed he was entitled to do so.
As the motorway merged into the A303 he turned the car into the service station. 'Coffee? We've made good time. You go on in; I'll take Charlie for a quick trot. I'll see you in the cafй.'
The place was full, which made their lack of conversation easier to bear. Emmy, painstakingly making small talk and receiving nothing but brief, polite replies, presently gave up. On a wave of ill humour she said, 'Well, if you don't want to talk, we won't.' She added hastily, going red in the face, 'I'm sorry, that was rude. I expect you have a lot to think about.'
He looked at her thoughtfully. 'Yes, Ermentrude, I have. And, strangely, in your company I do not feel compelled to keep up a flow of chat.'
'That's all right, then.' She smiled at him, for it seemed to her that he had paid her a compliment.
They drove on presently through worsening weather. All the same her heart lifted at the sight of open fields and small villages. Nearing their journey's end, the professor turned off the A303 and took a narrow cross-country road, and Emmy said, 'You know the way? You've been here before?'
'No.' He turned to smile at her. 'I looked at the map. We're almost there.'
Shortly after that they went through a village and turned off into a lane overhung with bare winter trees. Round a corner, within their view, was Emmy's new house.
The professor brought the car to a halt, and after a moment's silence Emmy said, 'Oh, this can't be it,' although she knew that it was. The lodge itself was charming, even on a winter's day, but its charm was completely obliterated by the conglomeration of things around it, leaving it half-buried. Her father's car stood at the open gate, for the garage was overflowing with furniture. There was more furniture stacked and covered by tarpaulins in heaps in front of the house, a van parked on the small lawn to one side of the lodge and a stack of pipes under a hedge.
'Oh, whatever has happened?' asked Emmy. 'Surely Father hasn't…'
The professor put a large hand on hers. 'Supposing we go and have a look?'
He got out of the car and went to open her door and then let Charlie out, and together they went up the narrow path to the house.
It wasn't locked. Emmy opened it and called, 'Mother?'
They heard Mrs Foster's surprised voice from somewhere in the house and a moment later she came into the tiny hall.
'Darling-Emmy, how lovely to see you. We didn't expect you…' She looked at the professor. 'Is everything all right?'
He shook hands. 'I think it is we who should be asking you that, Mrs Foster.'
Mrs Foster had an arm round Emmy. 'Come into the kitchen; it's the only room that's comfortable. We hoped to be settled in by the time you came, Emmy. There's been a hitch…'
She led them to the kitchen with Charlie at their heels. 'Sit down; I'll make us some coffee.'
The kitchen wasn't quite warm enough, but it was furnished with a table and chairs, and there were two easy chairs at each side of the small Aga. China and crockery, knives and forks, spoons and mugs and glasses were arranged on a built-in dresser and there was a pretty latticed window over the sink.
Mrs Foster waved a hand. 'Of course all this is temporary; in a week or two we shall be settled in.'
'Mother, what has happened?' Emmy sat down at the table. Enoch and Snoodles had jumped onto her lap while George investigated Charlie.
The professor was still standing, leaning against the wall, silent. Only when Mrs Foster handed round the coffee mugs and sat down did he take a chair.
'So unfortunate,' said Mrs Foster. 'Mr Bennett, whom your father replaced, died suddenly the very day I moved down here. His furniture was to have been taken to his sister's house where he intended to live, but, of course, she didn't want it, and anyway he had willed it to a nephew who lives somewhere in the north of England. He intends to come and decide what to do with it, but he's put it off twice already and says there's no need for it to be put in store as he'll deal with it when he comes. Only he doesn't come and here we are, half in and half out as it were.'
She drank from her mug. 'Your father is extremely happy here, and since he's away for most of the day we manage very well. School breaks up tomorrow, so he will be free after that. We didn't tell you, Emmy, because we hoped-still do hope-that Mr Bennett's nephew will do something about the furniture.'
'Whose van is that outside?' asked Emmy.
'The plumber, dear. There's something wrong with the boiler-he says he'll have it right in a day or two.' Mrs Foster looked worried. 'I'm so sorry we weren't ready for you, but we'll manage. You may have to sleep on the sofa; it's in the sitting room.' She looked doubtful. 'There's furniture all over the place, I'm afraid, but we can clear a space…'
She looked at Emmy. 'I don't suppose the house is sold, Emmy?'
'No, Mother, but there have been several people to look at it. The agent's got the keys…'
'We didn't expect you just yet.' Her mother looked enquiring. 'Has something gone wrong?'
'I'll tell you later,' said Emmy. She turned to the professor, who still hadn't uttered a word. 'It was very kind of you to bring me here,' she said. 'I hope it hasn't upset your day too much.'
'Should I be told something?' asked her mother.
'Later, Mother,' said Emmy quickly. 'I'm sure Professor ter Mennolt wants to get back to London as quickly as possible.'
The professor allowed himself a small smile. He said quietly, 'There is a great deal you should be told, Mrs Foster, and if I may I'll tell it, for I can see that Ermentrude won't say a word until I'm out of the way.'
'Emmy's been ill,' said Mrs Foster in a motherly panic.
'Allow me to explain.' And, when Emmy opened her mouth to speak, he said, 'No, Ermentrude, do not interrupt me.'
He explained. His account of Emmy's misfortunes was succinct, even dry. He sounded, thought Emmy, listening to his calm voice, as if he were dictating a diagnosis, explaining something to a sister on a ward round.
When he had finished, Mrs Foster said, 'We are deeply grateful to you-my husband and I. I don't know how we can thank you enough for taking such care of Emmy.'
'A pleasure,' said the professor in a noncommittal voice which made Emmy frown. Of course it hadn't been a pleasure; she had been a nuisance. She hoped that he would go now so that she need never see him again. The thought gave her such a pang of unhappiness that she went quite pale.
He had no intention of going. He accepted Mrs Foster's invitation to share the snack lunch she was preparing, and remarked that he would like to have a talk with Mr Foster.
'He comes home for lunch?' he enquired blandly.
'Well, no. He has it at school, but he's got a free hour at two o'clock; he told me this morning.'
'Splendid. If I may, I'll walk up to the school and have a chat.'
Emmy was on the point of asking what about when he caught her eye.
'No, Ermentrude, don't ask!' The animals had settled before the stove. The professor got up. 'I'll bring in your things, Ermentrude.'
He sounded impersonal and nonchalant, but something stopped her from asking the questions hovering on her tongue. Why should he want to talk to her father? she wondered.
They had their lunch presently-tinned soup and toasted cheese-sitting round the kitchen table, and Mrs Foster and the professor were never at a loss for conversation. Emmy thought of the silent journey they had just made and wondered what it was that kept him silent in her company. It was a relief when he got into his coat again and started on the five-minute walk to the school.
Mr Foster, if he was surprised to see the professor, didn't say so. He led the way to a small room near the classrooms, remarking that they would be undisturbed there.
'You want to see me, Professor?' He gave him a sharp glance. 'Is this to do with Emmy? She isn't ill? You say she is with her mother…'
'No, no. She has had a mild concussion and a nasty cut on the head, but, if you will allow me, I will explain…'
Which he did in the same dry manner which he had employed at the lodge. Only this time he added rather more detail.
'I am deeply indebted to you,' said Mr Foster. 'Emmy didn't say a word-if she had done so my wife would have returned to London immediately.
'Of course. Ermentrude was determined that you should know nothing about it. It was unfortunate that she should have been made redundant with such short notice, although I believe she wasn't unduly put out about that. I had no idea that she was alone in the house until I returned to London.'
Mr Foster gave him a thoughtful look and wondered why the professor should sound concerned, but he said nothing. 'Well, once we have got this business of the furniture and the plumbing settled, we shall be able to settle down nicely. I'm sure that Emmy will find a job, and in the meantime there's plenty for her to do at home.'
'Unfortunate that Christmas is so close,' observed the professor. 'Is it likely that you will be settled in by then?'
Mr Foster frowned. 'Unfortunately, no. I had a phone message this morning-this nephew is unable to deal with the removal of Mr Bennett's furniture until after Christmas. He suggests that it stays where it is for the moment. I suppose we shall be able to manage…'
'Well, now, as to that, may I offer a suggestion? Bearing in mind that Ermentrude is still not completely recovered, and the discomforts you are living in, would you consider…?'
Emmy and her mother, left on their own, rummaged around, finding blankets and pillows. 'There's a mattress in the little bedroom upstairs, if you could manage on that for a few nights,' suggested Mrs Foster worriedly. 'If only they would take all this furniture away…'
Emmy, making up some sort of a bed, declared that she would be quite all right. 'It won't be for long,' she said cheerfully. 'I'll be more comfortable here than I was in London. And Father's got his job-that's what matters.'
She went downstairs to feed the animals. 'The professor and Charlie are a long time,' she observed. 'I hope Charlie hasn't got lost. It's almost tea time, too, and I'm sure he wants to get back to London.'
The professor wasn't lost, nor was Charlie. Having concluded his talk with Mr Foster, the professor had whistled to his dog and set off for a walk, having agreed to return to the school when Mr Foster should be free to return home.
The unpleasant weather hadn't improved at all. Sleet and wet snow fell from time to time from a grey sky rapidly darkening, and the lanes he walked along were half-frozen mud. He was unaware of the weather, his thoughts miles away.
'I am, of course, mad,' he told Charlie. 'No man in his right senses would have conceived such a plan without due regard to the pitfalls and disadvantages. And what is Anneliese going to think?'
Upon reflection he thought that he didn't much mind what she felt. She had been sufficiently well brought up to treat his guests civilly, and if she and Ermentrude were to cross swords he felt reasonably sure that Ermentrude would give as good as she got. Besides, Anneliese wouldn't be staying at his home, although he expected to see a good deal of her.
He waited patiently while Charlie investigated a tree. Surely Anneliese would understand that he couldn't leave Ermentrude and her parents to spend Christmas in a house brim-full of someone else's furniture and inadequate plumbing, especially as he had been the means of their move there in the first place. Perhaps he had rather over-emphasised Ermentrude's need to recuperate after concussion, but it had successfully decided her father to accept his offer.
He strode back to the school to meet Mr Foster and accompany him back to the lodge.
Emmy was making tea when they got there.
'You're wet,' she said unnecessarily. 'And you'll be very late back home. I've made toast, and there's a bowl of food for Charlie when you've dried him off. There's an old towel hanging on the back of the kitchen door. Give me that coat; I'll hang it on a chair by the Aga or you'll catch your death of cold.'
The professor, meekly doing as he was told, reflected that Ermentrude sounded just like a wife. He tried to imagine Anneliese talking like that and failed, but then she would never allow herself to be in a situation such as Emmy was now. She would have demanded to be taken to the nearest hotel. He laughed at the thought, and Emmy looked round at him in surprise. The professor didn't laugh often.
He helped her father out of his wet jacket, poured the tea and called her mother, who was hanging curtains in the small bedroom.
'They'll have to do,' she said, coming into the kitchen. 'I've pinned them up for the moment, and it does make the room look cosier.'
She smiled at the professor. 'Did you have a nice walk? Do sit down. Let Charlie lie by the stove; he must be tired. It's a wretched evening for you to travel.'
Emmy handed round toast and a pot of jam. The tea, in an assortment of cups and saucers, was hot and strong. She watched the professor spread jam on his toast and take a bite, and thought of Beaker's dainty teas with the fine china and little cakes. He looked up and caught her eye and smiled.
Mr Foster drank his tea and put down his cup. 'Professor ter Mennolt has made us a most generous offer. He considers that Emmy needs rest after her accident, and that as a medical man he cannot like the idea of her remaining here while the house is in such a state of confusion. He has most kindly offered to take us over to Holland for the Christmas period to stay in his house there. He will be going the day after tomorrow-'
'You said tomorrow…' interrupted Emmy.
'I find that I am unable to get away until the following day,' said the professor smoothly. 'But I shall be delighted to have you as my guests for a few days. Hopefully by the time you return the problems in this house will be resolved.' He added blandly, 'As a doctor, I would feel it very wrong of me to allow Ermentrude to stay here until she is quite fit.'
Emmy drew a deep breath. She didn't think he meant a word of it; he might look and sound like the learned man he undoubtedly was but his suggestion was preposterous. Besides, there was nothing wrong with her. She opened her mouth to say so and closed it again, swallowing her protest. She didn't stand a chance against that weighty professional manner.
She listened to her mother receiving his offer with delighted relief.
'Surely we shall upset your plans for Christmas? Your family and guests? How will you let them know? And all the extra work…'
The professor sounded reassuring. 'I'm sure you don't need to worry, Mrs Foster. If you can face the idea of Christmas in Holland, I can assure you that you will all be most welcome. Rather short notice, I'm afraid, but if you could manage to be ready by midday on the day after tomorrow?'
Mr and Mrs Foster exchanged glances. It was an offer they could hardly refuse. On their way they would have scrambled through the festive season somehow or other, always hopeful that Mr Bennett's furniture would have been moved by the time Emmy arrived. But now that seemed unlikely, and with Christmas in such a muddle, and Emmy not quite herself…
Mrs Foster said simply, 'Thank you for a most generous offer; we accept with pleasure. Only don't let us interfere with any of your family arrangements. I mean, we are happy just to have a bed and a roof over our heads…'
The professor smiled. 'It will be a pleasure to have you-I always think the more the merrier at Christmas, don't you?'
'Your family will be there?'
'I have two sisters with children and a younger brother. I'm sure they will be delighted to meet you.'
He got up. 'You will forgive me if I leave you now?'
He shook hands with Mr and Mrs Foster, but Ermentrude he patted on the shoulder in a casual manner and told her to take care.
When he had gone, Mrs Foster said, 'What a delightful man, and how kind he is. You know, Emmy, your father and I were at our wits' end wondering what to do about Christmas, and along comes Professor ter Mennolt and settles it all for us-just like that.'
Mr Foster was watching Emmy's face. 'A good man, and very well thought of in his profession, I believe. He tells me that he is engaged to be married. I dare say we shall meet his fiancйe.'
Emmy said in a bright voice, 'Oh, I have met her-she came to St Luke's one day to see him-she'd been staying over here. She's beautiful, you know. Fair and slender, and has the most gorgeous clothes.'
'Did you like her?' asked her mother.
'No,' said Emmy. 'But I expect that was because she was the kind of person I would like to be and aren't.'
'Well,' said her mother briskly, 'let's get tidied up here and then think about what clothes to take with us. I've that long black skirt and that rather nice crкpe de Chine blouse; that'll do for the evening. What about you, Emmy?'
'Well, there's the brown velvet; that'll do.' It would have to; she had no other suitable dress for the evening. She thought for a moment. 'I could go in the jacket and skirt, and wear my coat over them. A blouse or two, and a sweater…I don't suppose we'll be there for more than a few days.'
'If we sell the house, you shall have some new clothes, and now your father's got this splendid post…'
'Oh, I've plenty of clothes,' said Emmy airily. 'And they don't matter. It's marvellous that Father's here, and this is a dear little house.'
She looked round her at the muddle-chairs stacked in corners, a wardrobe in the hall, Mr Bennett's piano still in the sitting room. They looked at each other and burst out laughing. 'When you're able to settle in,' said Emmy.
The professor, with Charlie beside him, drove back to Chelsea. 'I do not know what possessed me,' he told his companion. 'Anneliese is not going to like my unexpected guests, and yet what else could I do? Would you like to spend Christmas in such cold chaos? No, of course you wouldn't. Common humanity dictated that I should do something about it…Let me think…'
By the time he had reached his home his plans were made. Over the dinner which Beaker set before him he went through them carefully, and presently went to his study and picked up the phone.
Beaker, bringing his coffee later, coughed gently. 'Mrs Burge and I, sir, we miss Miss Foster.'
The professor looked at him over his spectacles. 'So do I, Beaker. By the way, she and her parents are going to Holland with me for Christmas. Due to unavoidable circumstances, the house they have moved to is unfit to live in for the moment and they have nowhere to go.'
Beaker's face remained impassive. 'A good idea, if I may say so, sir. The young lady isn't quite herself after that nasty attack.'
'Just so, Beaker. I shan't be leaving until the day after tomorrow-pack a few things for me, will you? Enough for a week.'
Beaker gone, the professor buried his commanding nose in a weighty tome and forgot everything else. It was only as he was going to bed that he remembered that he should have phoned Anneliese. It would be better to tell her when he got to Holland, perhaps. He felt sure that she would be as warmly welcoming to his unexpected guests as his sisters had promised to be.
Emmy slept badly; a mattress on the floor, surrounded by odds and ends of furniture which creaked and sighed during the night, was hardly conducive to a restful night. Nor were her thoughts-largely of the professor-none of which were of a sensible nature.
She got up heavy-eyed and her mother said, 'The professor is quite right, Emmy, you don't look at all yourself.' She eyed her much loved daughter worriedly. 'Was it very uncomfortable on the mattress? There's no room to put up a bed, and anyway we haven't got one until we can get yours from the house in London. Your father can sleep there tonight and you can come in with me…'
'I was very comfortable,' said Emmy. 'But there was such a lot to think about that I didn't sleep very well. I expect I'm excited.'
Mrs Foster put the eggs for breakfast on to boil. 'So am I. We'll pack presently-your father's going up to the school to find out where the nearest kennels are, then he can take these three later this evening.'
'I hope they'll be all right, but it's only for a few days. Wouldn't it be marvellous if we came back and found all Mr Bennett's furniture gone and the plumbing repaired?'
'We mustn't expect too much, but it would be nice. Directly after Christmas your father will go up to London and see the estate agent and arrange for your bed to be brought down here. You need never go back there unless you want to, Emmy.' Her mother turned round to smile at her. 'Oh, Emmy, isn't it all too good to be true?'
There was a good deal to do-cases to pack, hair to wash, hands to be attended to.
'I do hope the professor won't feel ashamed of us,' said Mrs Foster.
Emmy said quite passionately, 'No, Mother, he's not like that. He's kind and, and-' She paused. 'Well, he's nice.' And, when her mother gave her a surprised look, she added, 'He's quite tiresome at times too.'
Mrs Foster wisely said nothing.
They all went to bed early in a house strangely silent now that George and Snoodles and Enoch had been taken, protesting fiercely, to the kennels near Shaftesbury. Emmy had another wakeful night, worrying about her clothes and whether the professor might be regretting his generosity-and what would Anneliese think when she knew? She dropped off finally and had a nightmare, wherein his family, grotesquely hideous, shouted abuse at her. She was only too glad when it was time to get up.
They made the house as secure as they could, piling the furniture tidily under the tarpaulins and tying them down, parking her father's car as near the house as possible and covering it with more tarpaulins. There was just time to have a cup of coffee before the professor was due to arrive.
He came punctually, relaxed and pleasant, drank the coffee he was offered, stowed the luggage in the boot and invited everyone to get into the car.
Mr Foster was told to sit in front, for, as the professor pointed out, he might need directions. 'We're going from Dover-the hovercraft. It's quick, and there is quite a long journey on the other side.'
He got in and turned to look at Mrs Foster. 'Passports?' he asked. 'Keys and so forth? So easily forgotten at the last minute, and I have rushed you.'
'I think we've got everything, Professor…'
'Would you call me Ruerd?' His glance slid over Emmy's rather pale face, but he didn't say anything to her.
It was another cold day but it wasn't raining, although the sky was dark. The professor drove steadily, going across country to pick up the motorway outside Southampton and turning inland at Chichester to pick up the A27 and then the A259. He stopped in Hawkshurst at a pub in the little town where they had soup and sandwiches.
'Are we in good time for the hovercraft,' asked Mrs Foster anxiously.
'Plenty of time,' he assured her. 'It takes longer this way, I believe, but the motorway up to London and down to Dover would have been packed with traffic.'
'You've been this way before?' asked Emmy's father.
'No, but it seemed a good route. On a fine day it must be very pleasant. I dislike motorways, but I have to use them frequently.'
They drove on presently, joining the A20 as they neared Dover. From the warmth of the car Emmy surveyed the wintry scene outside. How awful if she was to be seasick…
She forgot about it in the excitement of going on board, and, once there, since it was rather like sitting in a superior bus, she forgot about feeling sick and settled down beside her mother, sharing the tea they had been brought and eating the biscuits. Her father had gone to sleep and the professor, with a word of apology, had taken out some papers from a pocket, put on his spectacles and was absorbing their contents.
It was rough but not unbearably so. All the same it was nice to get back into the car.
'Not too tired?' asked the professor, and, once clear of the traffic around Calais, sent the car surging forward, out of France and into Belgium, where he took the road to Ghent and then on into Holland.
Emmy looked out of the window and thought the country looked rather flat and uninteresting. Instead she studied the back of the professor's head, and wished that she were sitting beside him. She caught the thought up short before it could go any further. All this excitement was going to her head, and any silly ideas must be squashed at once. Circumstances had thrown them together; circumstances would very shortly part them. That was an end of that.
She sighed, and then choked on a breath when the professor asked, 'What's the matter, Ermentrude?'
She had forgotten that he could see her in his mirror above the dashboard. 'Nothing, nothing,' she repeated. 'I'm fine. It's all very interesting.'
Which, considering it was now almost dark and the view held no interest whatsoever, was a silly answer.
It was completely dark by the time he turned in at his own gates and she saw the lights streaming from the house ahead of them. She hadn't expected anything like this. A substantial villa, perhaps, or a roomy townhouse, but not this large, square house, with its big windows and imposing front door.
As they got out of the car the door opened and Solly and Tip dashed out, barking a welcome-a welcome offered in a more sedate fashion by Cokker, who greeted the guests as though three people arriving for Christmas without more than a few hours' warning was an everyday occurrence.
The hall was warm and splendidly lighted and there was a Christmas tree in one corner, not yet decorated. Cokker took coats and scarves, and the whole party crossed the hall and went into the drawing room.
'Oh, what a beautiful room!' said Mrs Foster.
'I'm glad you like it. Shall we have a drink before you go to your rooms? Would dinner in half an hour suit you?'
'Yes, please.' Mrs Foster beamed at him. 'I don't know about anyone else, but I'm famished.' She sat down by the fire and looked around her, frankly admiring. 'Ruerd, this is so beautiful and yet you choose to live a good part of your life in England?'
'I go where my work is,' he told her, smiling. 'I'm very happy in Chelsea, but this is my home.'
He crossed to the drinks table and went to sit by Mr Foster, talking about their journey, leaving Emmy to sit with her mother. Presently Cokker came, and with him a tall, stout woman, no longer young but very upright.
'Ah, Tiele,' said the professor. 'My housekeeper and Cokker's wife. She doesn't speak English but I'm sure you will manage very well.'
He said something to her in what Emmy supposed was Dutch.
'Tiele is from Friesland, so we speak Friese together…'
'You're not Dutch? You're Frisian?' asked Emmy.
'I had a Friesian grandmother,' he told her. 'Tiele will take you upstairs, and when you are ready will you come back here again? Don't hurry; you must be tired.'
On their way to the door Emmy stopped by him. 'Aren't you tired?' she asked him.
He smiled down at her. 'No. When I'm with people I like or doing something I enjoy I'm never tired.'
He smiled slowly and she turned away and followed her mother, father and Tiele up the wide, curving staircase. It was inevitable, I suppose, she thought, that sooner or later I should fall in love with him. Only it's a pity I couldn't have waited until we were back home and there would be no chance of seeing him again. I must, decided Emmy firmly, be very circumspect in my manner towards him.
There were a number of rooms leading from the gallery which encircled the stairs. Emmy watched her parents disappear into one at the front of the house before she was led by Tiele to a room on the opposite side. It was not a very large room, but it was furnished beautifully with a canopied bed, a William the Fourth dressing table in tulip wood, two Georgian bergиres upholstered in the same pale pink of the curtains and bedspread, and a mahogany bedside table-an elegant Georgian trifle.
The one long window opened onto a small wrought-iron balcony; she peeped out onto the dark outside and turned back thankfully to the cheerful light of the rose-shaded lamps. There was a clothes cupboard too, built into one wall, and a small, quite perfect bathroom.
Emmy prowled around, picking things up and putting them down again. 'I wonder,' she said out loud, 'if Anneliese knows how lucky she is?'
She tidied herself then, brushed her hair, powdered her nose and went to fetch her parents.
'Darling,' said her mother worriedly. 'Should we have come? I mean, just look at everything…'
Her father said sensibly, 'This is Ruerd's home, my dear, and he has made us welcome. Never mind if it is a mansion or a cottage. I fancy that it is immaterial to him, and it should be to us.'
They went down to the drawing room and found the professor standing before his hearth, the dogs pressed up against him.
'You have all you want?' he asked Mrs Foster. 'Do say if you need anything, won't you? I rushed you here with very little time to decide what to pack.
When Cokker came the professor said, 'I believe dinner is on the table. And if you aren't too tired later, sir, I'd like to show you some first editions I have. I recently found Robert Herrick's Hesperides-seventeenth century, but perhaps you would advise me as to the exact date?'
The dining room was as magnificent as the drawing room, with a pedestal table in mahogany ringed around by twelve chairs, those at the head and foot of the table being carvers upholstered in red leather. It was a large room, with plenty of space for the massive side table along one wall and the small serving table facing it.
There were a number of paintings on the walls. Emmy, anxious not to appear nosy, determined to have a good look at them when there was no one about. At the moment she was delighted to keep her attention on the delicious food she was being offered. Smoked salmon with wafer-thin brown bread and butter, roast pheasant with game chips and an assortment of vegetables, and following these a crиme brыlйe.
They had coffee in the drawing room and presently the professor took Mr Foster away to his library, first of all wishing Mrs Foster and Emmy a good night. 'Breakfast is at half past eight, but if you would like to have it in bed you have only to say so. Sleep well.' His gaze dwelt on Emmy's face for a moment and she looked away quickly.
She was going to stay awake, she thought, lying in a scented bath. There were a great many problems to mull over-and the most important one was how to forget the professor as quickly as possible. If it's only infatuation, she thought, I can get over it once I've stopped seeing him.
She got into bed and lay admiring her surroundings before putting out the bedside light, prepared to lie awake and worry. She had reckoned without the comfort of the bed and the long day behind her. With a last dreamy thought of the professor, she slept.