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“I have apologised for jogging your arm,” she interposed.

His lips parted into another, rather bleak smile. “So you have.”

For an impossible moment, Sarah wished that she was as pretty and vivacious as her stepmother instead of knowing herself to be completely ordinary and never likely to dazzle anyone, certainly not this man in front of her.

“I ought to apologise all over again,” she said aloud. “I didn’t listen to your directions. I meant to, but I was looking at your shirt.”

“Let’s hope all my clients don’t do the same all afternoon,” he said dryly.

“I suppose you haven’t time to go home to change?”

“To Chaddoxboume? Hardly!”

She flushed with sudden pleasure. “Do
you
live in Chaddoxboume too?”

The man gave her a long, level look and her enthusiasm died away, leaving her exposed and vulnerable to his thoughtful gaze. She made an effort to recover, wondering whatever could be the matter with her. She sat back in her seat, pretending an interest she was far from feeling in the menu in front of her.

“What are you doing in Chaddoxboume?” the man asked her suddenly.

Sarah started. “It’s my father,” she explained, immediately confused again. “He isn’t very well. He has asthma and has to get out of London. I’m coming to look after him.”

“Where’s your mother?”

Sarah put the menu down and took a deep breath. “My stepmother couldn’t get away just now,” she said.

He frowned at her. “And what about you? Haven’t you a job to keep you in London, or wherever it is that you come from?”

“N-nothing important.”

He looked sterner than ever. “Just filling in until you get married?”

“N-not exactly,” she managed.

He gave her an impatient look. “What is that supposed to mean ? If you don’t want to talk about yourself, why don’t you tell me to mind my own business and have done?”

She took in her breath in an audible gasp. “Oh, I wouldn’t do that!”

“Why on earth not?” he demanded, looking amused.

“Well, it’s kind of you to be interested. M-my father is Daniel Blaney,” she added inconsequently.

“Kind?” he exploded. “My dear girl, I’m not in the least interested. It so happens that I live in Chaddoxbourne and I thought we might be neighbours and that it might be awkward if I were still glowering at you for spilling soup all over me for the next year or so—”

Sarah gulped, chuckled, and broke into a wide smile of sympathy. “What a horrible fate!”

She was unaware of how her smile changed her whole face. In repose there was nothing at all remarkable about her face, indeed sometimes she could look thoroughly sulky, but she had only to smile for her whole being to light up, giving her a fleeting beauty that was all the more remarkable for being transient. She became aware now of the faint answering flicker of a smile on the man’s face, making her heart lurch in the most uncomfortable way.

“Are you—are you Robert Chaddox?”

It was his turn to be at a disadvantage. His eyes narrowed a fraction as if he was summing her up preparatory to finally making up his mind about her.

“Yes, I am,” he said briefly.

Sarah extended her hand to him across the table. “Then my father and I are your new tenants. We’re going to live in your converted oast-house.”

He accepted her hand and she was pleased to note that his was both firm and dry. “I suppose I should have known when you said your father is Daniel Blaney, but somebody else made all the arrangements—his secretary, perhaps?”

“More likely my stepmother’s,” Sarah answered.

He looked at her sharply. “No, I think it was your stepmother herself—Madge Dryden. I suppose that’s why she isn’t coming herself?”

Sarah nodded. “She’s in the middle of a run.”

“The traditions of the theatre don’t make for an ideal family life,” he remarked casually. “But I suppose your father is in the theatre too and knew what he was taking on.”

“Don’t you like the theatre?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t any views either way. I think people in the theatre are apt to have a different set of values from the rest of us, that’s all.”

Sarah lifted her eyes to him. “But you ought to understand the importance of tradition, if anyone should !”

His eyebrows rose giving him an arrogant look. “Meaning?”

Sarah’s eyes fell. She muttered something about his pedigree and his Saxon forebears in an agony of embarrassment, only to discover that he was laughing at her. “You have been doing your homework !” he observed.

“N-not really,” she stammered. “You were at school with—with a friend of mine. He told me about you when I said we were going to live near Canterbury.”

“Really?”

“I don’t suppose you remember him,” Sarah hurried on. “He—he works m the theatre. Alec Farne.”

“Oh yes, I remember him,” Mr. Chaddox said grimly.

Sarah blushed. “He said you didn’t have much in common at school.”

“An understatement,” Mr. Chaddox grunted. He watched her closely as she ordered a steak from the overworked waitress and then ordered coffee for himself. Needless to say, his coffee came first, long before her steak, and she was still waiting while he stirred sugar into his cup with an abstracted air. “How ill is your father, Miss Blaney?” he asked her suddenly.

Sarah’s worries about her father returned to engulf her. She bit her lip, horribly aware of the stinging tears in her eyes. “I don’t know. I think he’s pretty bad, but only my stepmother has actually spoken to the doctor, and my father always makes light of everything.”

Mr. Chaddox looked severe. “What makes you think you’ll be able to nurse him by yourself?”

Sarah looked with frank envy at his coffee and longed for her own meal to appear. “I love him,” she said simply.

“That’s scarcely a recommendation as a nurse!” He summoned the waitress with a beckoning finger and pointed at the empty space in front of Sarah. The waitress nodded an apology and came flying over with the steak that Sarah had ordered. “If he’s really ill, I should have thought he’d have wanted his wife with him!”

“Madge Dryden?” Sarah said weakly.

“I suppose you’re accustomed to standing in the wings as your stepmother’s understudy?” he grunted.

“Up to a point,” Sarah admitted.

"What point?”

Sarah hesitated. She was strongly tempted to do as he had first suggested and tell him to mind his own business, but somehow she was as defenceless before him as if he had the right to know.

“Well, she’s the star in the family and that counts, but one day I shall be just as famous. Not musical comedy, of course, I haven’t much talent for that sort of thing, but as a legit actress. I had just landed my first West End part when this came up.”

Mr. Chaddox could barely keep the contempt out of his voice. “With Alec Farne, I suppose?”

Sarah nodded eagerly. “He was furious when I said I couldn’t take the part.”

“How convenient to know all the right people!”

“Oh, but I didn’t know him
before
!” Sarah protested.

“Didn’t you?” His face softened a little. “It’s quite something to meet an actress who’s prepared to put her family before the play, but perhaps you weren’t very sure of your success?”

Sarah lifted her head, looking him straight in the eyes. “I was quite sure, Mr. Chaddox.”

“Then you’re unique!” he tossed back at her with a curious bitterness. He rose to his feet, forcing a smile. “I must be going. I hope you find everything in order at the house—and that you find Chaddoxbourne without too much difficulty.”

“Thank you,” she said.

He nodded briefly and was gone, paying his bill on the way out. Sarah subsided into her chair feeling as though she had just stepped off a scenic railway and had not yet caught her breath. So that was Mr. Robert Chaddox of Chaddoxboume! If only she had been able to make the same sort of impression on him as he had on her! If only ! But it was no use wasting her time in idle regrets for something she could do nothing about. She would never dazzle anyone and she might just as well face up to the fact.

Sarah finished her excellent steak without having tasted a single mouthful of it. She drank her coffee in much the same state. In a way she found she was quite enjoying the effect Mr. Chaddox had had on her. She was a naturally friendly person and her time in the theatre had meant that she had known more people of all ages than she might have done in another walk of life, but none had stirred her to more than friendship. Mr. Chaddox was different. She didn’t feel in the least bit friendly towards him and he acted on her with all the sympathy of an electric shock! It was astonishing to her that
anyone
could have such an effect on her, when no one ever had before. It was a new, strange sensation that needed thinking about, when she had the leisure to think about anything. Nevertheless, Chaddoxboume had suddenly become a highly desirable place to live and she couldn’t wait to get there. She almost danced out of the restaurant, leaving the waitress a tip of quite undeserved proportions, and went in search of her car.

Chaddoxboume lay to the north-east of Canterbury in a little valley at the bottom of which wound a lazy stream. The medieval stone bridge allowed the traffic to cross only one way at a time, but there was a ford alongside for the impatient who didn’t mind taking their cars through nearly a foot of water. On the bend of the river, a little further up the bank, stood the watermill, now abandoned and sad, though there were signs that someone was doing it up, probably to turn it into a private home. Behind the mill stood the church, built of golden stone and with a very fine rose window and a carving of Christ in Glory over the door and a number of ancient sun clocks carved into the portal that had once told the villagers the times of the Masses in the days before the Reformation.

Sarah took one look at the village and fell in love with it. To her, it was the perfect English village that she had never thought to see. The sun shone on the slow moving water that glinted with light beneath a line of weeping willows. The houses were old, some of them of the traditional Kentish clapboard, some of them built of red brick grown pink with age. The oast-house stood a little apart, its windows gleaming white, and beyond were the imposing gates of the Manor House, the stately Georgian lines of which were just visible beyond the walled garden full of magnificent trees, beeches, ash, and cedars, and even an oak tree so old that it had had to be supported by a framework of wooden scaffolding.

Sarah drove up to the oast-house, stopping at the gates that were closed against her,, They swung open easily and she fastened them back, eager to see what the house itself was like. She parked the car in the drive and hurried up to the front door, to see that a note had been pinned under the knocker. She opened it, hoping to find the key enclosed, but there were only instructions to the effect that the key was up at the Manor and would she collect it from there.

The Manor proved to be an even more beautiful house than she had expected. The rampant white horse of Kent stood on either side of the pillars that supported the porch over the door, and the legend Invicta, or undefeated, was cut deep in the flagstone in front of the door. Sarah rang the bell, a little impressed despite herself. If Robert Chaddox lived here, he had something to be proud of indeed.

The door was opened by a young man who greeted her with a cheerful smile.

“Hullo there!” he exclaimed. “Don’t tell me, you’re the new tenant? I’m Neil Chaddox.”

“Sarah Blaney,” said Sarah. She thought he looked much younger than his brother, but he was also a much easier character to deal with.

“I was expecting an ancient man,” Neil informed her. “I was going to hand over the key and tell him to get lost. But now that I’ve seen you, I’ll do my duty like a man and escort you over to your new home. There is a Mr. Blaney, I suppose?”

Sarah suppressed a smile. “My father,” she said.

“Then all is not lost! I suppose your mother will be with you too?’

“At week-ends. My stepmother’s in the theatre and can’t get away just now.”

Neil grinned at her. “My mother was on the stage too. I knew the instant I laid eyes on you that we’d have a lot in common, and you see how right I was!”

Sarah looked about her as they walked down the drive together. “Have you always lived here?” she asked him impulsively.

“Always. My mother was away a lot, but my father was always here—and Robert, of course. It was bad luck on him inheriting when he did. My parents were killed in a car crash, but unfortunately our father died before my mother and there was a double lot of death duties. Robert’s mother left him quite a bit, but with a place like this anything less than a million is just a drop in the bucket.”

“I suppose so,” Sarah agreed. She had never had anything to do with property and knew nothing about the expenses of its upkeep, but she could see that someone had to cut these magnificent lawns and keep the roof repaired. “What happened to Robert’s mother?”

“She was drowned somewhere or other. I’ve never thought about it.” He gave her an engaging grin. “I came along some time later,” he explained.

Sarah smiled. “Naturally.”

They both dissolved into laughter. “Yes, naturally,” he said. “Come along and see your new home!”

SARAH’S father had been quite right in thinking that Thursday was early closing in Canterbury. Neil suggested that Sarah should go to either Dover or Folkestone if she had any urgent shopping to be done, but Sarah had had enough of driving for that day. She followed Neil into the oast-house, not knowing what to expect, and the charm of the building immediately captured her.

“It’s fascinating having a round room like that at one end!” she exclaimed.

“If you say so,” Neil answered. “Robert took quite an interest in the conversion of this place himself. Yes, it does look good. I’ll tell him you think so.”

Sarah doubted that the elder Chaddox brother would be interested, but she said nothing. She enjoyed Neil’s easy company and was sorry when he glanced at his watch and said he supposed he would have to be going.