A CHRISTMAS WISH
by
BETTY NEELS



CHAPTER ONE

The dim and dusty Records Office, tucked away in the depths of the
hospital, was hardly a cheerful place in which to work, but the girl
going back and forth between the long rows of shelves sounded cheerful
enough, singing a medley of tunes as she sorted the folders into their
right places with the ease of long practice.

She was a tall girl with a splendid shape, a beautiful face and a head
of tawny hair which glowed under the neon lights, wearing a blouse and
skirt and a cardigan which, although well-fitting, lacked any
pretensions to high fashion.

Presently, her arms full, she went to the table against one of the
whitewashed walls and laid them down, still singing--quite loudly since
there was nobody there but herself, and she was far from the busy
wards.

"Oh, what a beautiful morning..."  she trilled, very slightly out of
tune, and then stopped as the door was opened.

The door was a long way from the table; she had ample time to study the
man coming towards her.  He came unhurriedly, very tall and large in a
beautifully tailored suit, fair hair already silver at the edges and a
handsome face with heavy-lidded eyes.  She hadn't seen him before, but
then she seldom if ever went up to the hospital.

When he was near enough she said cheerfully, "Hello, do you want
something?"

His good morning was uttered in a quiet voice.  He laid a folder on the
table.

"Yes, I asked for Eliza Brown's notes, not Elizabeth Brown's."

"Oh, so sorry.  I'll get them."  She picked up the discarded folder and
went down one of the narrow passages between the shelves, found the
folder, replaced the discarded one and went back to the table.

"Here it is.  I hope it wasn't too inconvenient for you..."

"It was."  His voice was dry, and she went a little pink.

"Do you work here alone?"

The?  Oh, no.  Debbie has got the day off to go to the dentist.  "

"And do you always sing as you work?"

"Why not?  It's quiet down here, you know, and dim and dusty.

If I didn't sing I might start screaming.  "

"Then why not look for other employment?"  He was leaning against the
wall, in no hurry to be gone.

She gave him a tolerant look.

"We--that is, clerks and suchlike--are two a penny.  Once we get a job
we hang on to it..."

"Until you marry?"  he suggested in his quiet voice.

"Well, yes."

He picked up the folder.

"Thank you.  Miss...?"

"Harding."  She smiled at him, for he seemed rather nice a new member
of the medical staff; a surgeon, since Mrs.  Eliza Brown was on the
surgical landing.  He nodded pleasantly and she watched him walk away;
she wasn't likely to see him again.  A pity, she reflected, making a
neat pile of her folders ready for someone to fetch them from
Outpatients.

The nurse from Outpatients was in a bad temper.  Sister, she confided,
was in a mood and there was no pleasing her, and the waiting-room was
stuffed to the ceiling.

"And I've got a date this evening," she moaned.

"At the rate we're going we'll be here all night, as well as all
afternoon."

"Perhaps Sister will have a date too," comforted Miss Harding.

"Her?  She's old almost forty, I should think."

The nurse flounced away, and was replaced almost at once by a tall,
thin girl with a long face.

"Hi, Olivia."  She had a nice grin.

"How's trade?  I want Lacey Cutter's notes.  They're missing.  I bet
Debbie got our lot out yesterday she may look like everyone's dream of
a fairy on the Christmas tree, but she's not heart and soul in her job,
is she?"

Olivia went across to the nearest shelf and began poking around.

"She's really rather a dear and so young... Here you are..."

"Well, you sound like her granny.  She must be all of nineteen or
so."

"Twenty, and I'm twenty-seven--on the verge of twenty-eight."

"Time you settled down.  How's the boyfriend?"

"Very well, thank you.  We'll have to wait for a bit, though."

"That's rotten bad luck.  I say, there's a new man on Surgical--a
consultant all the way from somewhere or other in Holland--come to
reorganise Mrs.  Brown's insides.  It seems he's perfected a way of
doing something or other; our Mr.  Jenks asked him here so that he can
pick up some ideas."  She started for the door.

"He's nice."

Olivia agreed silently.  She didn't allow her thoughts to dwell upon
him, though.  For one thing she had too much to do and for another she
had plenty of things--personal things--to think about.  Rodney, for
instance.  She and Rodney had been friends for years, long before her
father had died and left her mother poor, so that they had had to leave
their home in Dorset and come to London to live with her grandmother in
the small flat on the fringe of Islington.

That had been four years ago, and Olivia had found herself a job almost
at once to augment the two older ladies' income.

It wasn't very well paid but, beyond an expensive education, she had no
training of any sort and it was well within her scope.  Indeed, after a
couple of months she had realised that it was work which held no
future, and longed to have the chance to train for something which
would enable her to use her brain, but that was impossible.  Making
ends meet, even with her wages added, was a constant worry to her
mother, and she couldn't add to that.

If her grandmother had been more amenable it might have been possible,
but Mrs.  Fitzgibbon, having offered them a home, considered that she
had done her duty and saw no reason to forgo her glass of sherry, her
special tea from Fortnum and Mason, and her weekly visit to the
hairdresser, with a taxi to take her there and back.  She had sent away
her daily cleaner too, saying that her daughter was quite capable of
keeping the flat tidy, but graciously allowed a woman to come once a
week to do the heavy housework.

It wasn't an ideal situation, but Olivia could see no way out of it.
Nor could she see any chance of marrying Rodney, a rising young man on
the Stock Exchange, who had reiterated time and again that once he had
got his flat exactly as he wanted it, and bought a new car, they would
marry.  Four years, thought Olivia, sitting at the table eating
sandwiches and drinking pale and tepid tea from a flask, and there's
always something--and anyway, how can I marry him and leave Mother?
She'll be Granny's slave.

The day's work came to an end and she got into her raincoat, tied a
scarf over her glorious hair, locked the door and took the key along to
the porter's lodge.  She stood in the entrance for a moment, breathing
in the chill of the evening, and made for the bus-stop.

It was an awkward journey to and from the hospital, and the buses at
that time of day were packed.  Olivia, her junoesque proportions
squeezed between a stout matron carrying a bag full of things with
sharp edges and a small, thin man with a sniff, al lowed her thoughts
to wander to the pleas anter aspects of life.  New clothes it was high
time she had something different to wear when she went out with Rodney;
a legacy from some unknown person; finding a treasure-trove in the tiny
strip of garden behind her grandmother's flat;

being taken out to dinner and dancing at one of the best hotels the
Savoy for in stance suitably dressed, of course, to eat delicious food
and dance the night away.  She realised with something of a shock that
it wasn't Rodney's face on her imaginary partner but that of the man
who had asked why she sang while she worked.  This won't do, she told
herself, and frowned so fiercely that the thin man recoiled.

The street where her grandmother had her flat was suited to that
old-fashioned word 'genteel'.  The tiny front gardens were all alike
laurel bushes, a strip of grass and two steps leading to the front door
behind which was another smaller door, leading to the flat above.  All
the windows had net curtains and, beyond distant good mornings and good
evenings, no one who lived there spoke to anyone else.

Olivia hated it; she had spent the first year that they were there
planning ways of leaving it, but her mother felt it to be her duty to
stay with Granny since she had offered them a home and Olivia, a
devoted daughter, found it impossible to leave her mother there though
she disliked it, she suspected, just as much as she did.

She got out her key, unlocked the door, and went into the little hall,
hung her outdoor things on the old-fashioned oak stand and went through
to the sit ting-room.  Her mother looked up with a smile.

"Hello, love.  Have you had a busy day?"

Olivia bent to kiss her cheek.

"Just nicely so," she said cheerfully, and crossed the small room to
greet her grandmother.  Mrs.  Fitzgibbon was sitting very up right in a
Regency mahogany open armchair with a leather seat and wooden arms, by
no means comfortable but the old lady had inherited it from her mother,
who had acquired it from some vague relation who had been married to a
baronet, a fact which seemed to ensure its comfort from Mrs.
Fitzgibbon's point of view.  She said severely now, "Really, Olivia,
your hair is badly in need of a brush, and is that plastic bag you're
carrying really necessary?  When I was a gel..."

Olivia interrupted her quickly.

"I called in at Mr.  Patel's as I got off the bus--he had some nice
lettuces; you like a salad with your supper.  "

She made a small comic face at her mother and went to her room--very
small, just room for the narrow bed, the old-fashioned wardrobe and a
small chest of drawers with an old-fashioned looking-glass on it.
Rodney had phoned to say that he would come for her at around seven
o'clock so she poked around, deciding what she would wear, and then,
undecided, went to the kitchen to start the supper.  Lamb chops, mashed
potatoes and carrots.  There were a couple of tomatoes in the fridge
and a rather wizened apple.  She contrived a small salad with the
lettuce, laid the table in the poky dining-room beside the kitchen, and
went to pour her grandmother's sherry.  She poured a glass for her
mother too, ignoring her grandmother's sharp look.

She went back to the kitchen and the phone rang.  It was probably
Rodney, to say that he would be earlier than they had arranged.  She
turned down the gas and went into the hall where the phone was.  It was
Rodney.  His faintly pompous, "Hello, Olivia," sounded rather more so
than usual, but it was one of the things she had decided didn't
matter.

Her own 'hello' was cheerful.

"If you're coming earlier than you said, I won't be ready..."

"Well, as a matter of fact, I can't come, Olivia-something's turned up
and I can't get away."

"Oh, bad luck.  Let's go out tomorrow instead."

She felt faintly uneasy at his hesitancy.

"It's a long job," he said finally, "I may have to go away..."

She was instantly sympathetic.

"Big business and very hush-hush?"  she wanted to know.

"Well, if it's going to give you a leg-up, I won't crumble.  You don't
know when you're going?"

"No, no, nothing's settled yet.  I'll give you a ring.  Can't stay any
longer now."

She was disappointed but still cheerful.

"Don't get overworked..."  His goodbye interrupted her, and she put the
phone down with the feeling that something was wrong.  My imagination,
she told herself, and went to stretch the supper to allow for another
person and then tell her mother that she wouldn't be going out after
all.

Her grandmother, listening, observed tartly, "You can't rely on the
young men of today.  Rodney's eyes are too close together."

Which was difficult to refute, for they were.

The week wore on.  Debbie enlivened the days with her chatter,
confiding with a good deal of giggling the carrying on of her various
boyfriends, while Olivia patiently did most of the filing and hurriedly
resorted Debbie's careless efforts.

"You ought to go out more often," declared Debbie as they drank their
mid-morning coffee.

"Never mind that Rodney of yours," she added with an unconscious lack
of concern, 'it would do him good.  He ought to be taking you out
somewhere every blessed moment he's free.  Give him a ring and say you
want to go out this evening; there's a smashing film on at the Odeon in
Leicester Square.  "

"He's not here.  I mean he's had to go away something to do with his
firm."

"Don't you know where he is?"

"No idea."

"Ring wherever he works and ask for his address.  He's not MIs or
anything hush-hush is he?"

"No something in the Stock Exchange."

Olivia got up and went back to the shelves with a pile of folders just
as the door opened.

Here he was again, as elegant as she remembered him and as calm.  She
left Debbie to ask him if she could help him.

"Indeed you can.  Once again I have here Mrs.  Elizabeth Brown's notes,
but it is Mrs.  Eliza Brown who is my patient."

Debbie beamed at him.

"Oh, sorry that's me.  I make mistakes all the time only Olivia puts
them right and covers up for me.  It's a dull job, you know."

"I can appreciate that."  He looked past her and wished Olivia a bland
good morning.

"Olivia," he added, and before she could answer that he said, "And you,
young lady, what is your name?"

"Debbie what's yours?  You aren't on the staff, are you?  Have you come
here to brush up your technique or something?"

"Or something?"  He smiled a little.

"And my name is van der Eisler."

"Foreign," said Debbie.

"You wouldn't know it except you're on the large side.  Got friends
here?"

"Er, yes, I have."

Olivia, feverishly seeking Mrs.  Eliza Brown's notes, clutched them
thankfully and took them to him.  He took them from her with a brief
nod.

"I mustn't keep you from your work," he observed.  He sounded as though
he had already dismissed them from his thoughts.

As he closed the door behind him Debbie said, "Olivia, why did you
hide?  Isn't he great?  A pity you found the notes just as I was going
to suggest that he might like me to show him round the town."

Olivia said sharply, "You wouldn't, Debbie he might be someone
fearfully important."

"Him?  If he were, he wouldn't come down to this hole, would he?  He'd
send a nurse.  I think he rather liked me."

"Why not?  You're pretty and amusing, and you can look small and
helpless at the drop of a hat..."

"Yes, I know, but you're not just pretty, Olivia, you're beautiful.
Even if you are well, amply curved."

Olivia laughed then.

"Yes, I know, and as strong as a horse.

Even if I were to faint there wouldn't be anyone strong enough to pick
me up off the floor.  "

"He could--strong enough to carry a grand piano upstairs without a
single puff..."

"I'm not a grand piano!"  laughed Olivia.

"Look, we'd better get on, it's almost time for our dinner- break."

They went to the canteen in turn and Debbie, going first, came back
with disquieting news.

"You know that girl who works in the secretary's office?"

"Mary Gates," said Olivia.

"What's happened to her--got engaged?"

"No, no.  She told me something she'd overheard.  There's not enough
money--they are planning to make redundancies--one's going to have to
do the work of two.  Olivia, supposing it's me who goes?  Whatever
shall I do?  With Dad out of work, Mother's part-time job barely pays
the rent."

Olivia said matter-of-factly, "Well, we don't know anything yet, do we?
They could have been talking about another hospital--and I don't see
how they could get rid of one of us."

"Well, I do.  You're too nice, Olivia.  Do you suppose these people who
sit around talking over super food and drink care a damn if they cut
back on jobs, just as long as they can save some money for some pet
scheme or other?  We aren't people to them, just stat-stat..."

"Statistics," supplied Olivia.

"Debbie, don't worry.  If--and I say it's a big if--one of us is given
the sack it will be me; they have to pay me more because

I'm older.  You're not yet twenty-one so you earn less.  "

Debbie looked relieved and then asked, "But what will you do?"

"Oh, I can turn my hand to anything," said Olivia airily, and took
herself off to the canteen.  She shared a table with two clerks from
Admissions, older than herself, competent, hard-working ladies both.

"There's a nasty rumour going round," one of them said to Olivia as she
sat down.

"They're cutting down, starting with the domestics and then us."

"Is it just a rumour or for real?"

"We're to get letters tomorrow, warning us, and at the end of next week
we shall get notes in our pay envelopes if we're to be made
redundant."

Olivia pushed shepherd's pie and two veg around the plate.

Something would have to be done about Debbie.  Her own wages would be
missed at home, but they wouldn't starve and they had a roof over their
heads whereas Debbie's family would be in sore straits.  She ate prunes
and custard, drank the strong tea, and went along to the secretary's
office.

He wasn't there, but his PA was--a nice girl, who Olivia knew
slightly.

"I want you to help me," said Olivia in a no-nonsense voice.

She was listened to without interruption, then the PA said, "I'll do my
best--shall I say that you've got another job lined up?  The hospital
manager will be delighted; he's going to be very unpopular."

Olivia went back to her work, and spent the rest of the day doing her
best to reassure Debbie.

It was pay-day in the morning and, sure enough, everyone had a letter
in their pay-packet, setting out the need to retrench, cut costs and
improve hospital services.

"How will they do that if there aren't enough of us to go round?"
demanded Debbie.

"I shan't dare tell my mum."

"Not until next week," cautioned Olivia.

"You haven't got the sack yet."

The next week crawled to its end and Olivia opened her pay packet to
find a note advising her that she had been given a week's notice.
Although she had been fairly sure that she would be the one to go, it
was still a blow--mitigated to a certain extent by Debbie's relief.

"Though how I'll manage on my own, I don't know," she told Olivia.

"I'm always filing things wrong."

"No, you aren't.  Besides, you'll be extra careful now."

"What about you?  Have you got a job to go to?"

"Not yet, but we can manage quite well until I find something else.
Look, Debbie, we've got next week--let's check the shelves together so
that everything is OK before I go."

She hadn't told her mother yet; that could wait until she had actually
left.  Thank heaven, she reflected, that it's spring.  We can econo
mise on the heating if only we can get Grandmother to cooperate, and
not go round the flat turning on lights that aren't needed and
switching on the electric fires and then forgetting them.  It was,
after all, her flat-something of which she reminded them constantly.

They worked like beavers during the next week, and although Olivia was
glad that she need no longer work in the dreary underground room she
was sorry to leave Debbie.  She put a brave face on it, however,
assured her that she had her eye on several likely jobs, collected her
pay-packet for the last time and went home.  The bus was as usual
crowded, so she stood, not noticing her feet being trodden on, or the
elderly lady with the sharp elbows which kept catching her in the ribs.
She was regretting leaving without seeing that nice man who had been so
friendly.  Doubtless back in Holland by now, she thought, and forgotten
all about us.

She waited until they had had their supper before she told her mother
and grandmother that she had lost her job.  Her mother was instantly
sympathetic.

"Of course you'll find something else much nicer," she said, 'and until
you do we can manage quite well.  "

Her grandmother wasn't as easy to placate.

"Well, what do you expect?"  she wanted to know.

"You're not really trained for anything, and quite right too.  No gel
should have to go out to work--not people of our background..."  Mrs.
Fitzgibbon, connected by marriage to the elderly baronet and his family
who never took any notice of her, was inclined to give herself airs.

"All the same," she went on, 'of course you must find something else at
once.  I, for one, have no intention of living in penury; heaven knows
I have sacrificed a great deal so that both of you should have a home
and comfort.  "

She stared at her granddaughter with beady eyes.

"Well, Olivia, perhaps that young man of yours will marry you now."

"Perhaps he will," said Olivia brightly, thinking to herself that
perhaps he wouldn't--she hadn't heard from him for almost three
weeks--and anyway, the last time they had been out together he had told
her that he had his eye on a new car.  The nasty thought that perhaps
the new car might receive priority over herself crossed her mind.
Rodney had never been over-loving, and she had told herself that it was
because they had known each other for some time and his feelings had
become a trifle dulled.  Perhaps it was a good thing that they hadn't
seen each other for a few weeks; he might look at her with new eyes and
ask her to marry him.

Something he had not as yet done, although there was a kind of unspoken
understanding between them.  Anyway, now was not the time to worry
about that.  A job was the first thing she must think about.

She had been given good references but it seemed that her skills as a
filing-clerk weren't much in demand She went out each day, armed with
the details of suitable jobs culled from the newspapers, and had no
luck at all; she couldn't use a word-processor; she had no idea how to
work with a computer, and a cash register was a closed book as far as
she was concerned.  The week was almost up when Rodney phoned.  He
sounded--she thought for a word--excited, and she wondered why.  Then
he said, "I want to talk to you, Olivia, can we meet somewhere?  You
know how it is if I come and see you at your grandmother's place..."

"Where do you suggest?  I've things to tell you too."

"Yes?"  He didn't sound very interested.

"Meet me at that French place in Essex Road this evening.  Seven
o'clock."

He rang off before she could agree.

He had sounded different she reflected as she went to tell her mother
that she would be out that evening.  Mrs.  Fitzgibbon, reading the
newspaper by the window, put it down.

"And high time too," she observed.

"Let us hope that he will propose."  She picked up her paper again,
"One less mouth to feed," she muttered nastily.

Perhaps you get like that when you're old, thought Olivia, and gave her
mother a cheerful wink.  It was of no use getting annoyed, and she knew
that her grandmother's waspish tongue was far kinder to her mother, an
only daughter who had married the wrong man--in her grandmother's eyes
at least--and it was because Olivia was more like her father than her
mother that her grandmother disliked her.  If she had been slender and
graceful and gentle, like her mother, it might have been a different
kettle of fish.  She dressed with care presently, anxious to look her
best for Rodney.  The jacket and skirt, even though they were four
years old, were more or less dateless, as was the silk blouse which
went with them.  She didn't look too bad, she conceded to herself,
studying her person in her wardrobe mirror, only she wished that she
were small and dainty.  She pulled a face at her lovely reflection,
gave her hair a final pat, and bade her mother goodbye.

"Take a key," ordered her grandmother.

"We don't want to be wakened at all hours."

Olivia said nothing.  She couldn't remember a single evening when
Rodney hadn't driven her back well before eleven o'clock.

Perhaps, she mused, sitting in an almost empty bus, she and Rodney had
known each other for too long.  Although surely when you were in love
that wouldn't matter?  The thought that perhaps she wasn't in love with
him took her breath.  Of course she was.  She was very fond of him; she
liked him, they had enjoyed cosy little dinners in out of the way
restaurants and had gone to the theatre together and she had been to
his flat.  Only once, though.  It was by the river in a new block of
flats with astronomical rents, and appeared to her to be completely
furnished, although Rodney had listed a whole lot of things which he
still had to have.  Only then, he had told her, would he contemplate
settling down to married life.

It was a short walk from the bus-stop and she was punctual but he was
already there, sitting at a table for two in the corner of the narrow
room.  He got up when he saw her and said 'hello' in a hearty way, not
at all in his usual manner.

She sat down composedly and smiled at him.

"Hello, Rodney.

Was your trip successful?  "

"Trip?  What..,.?  Oh, yes, very.  What would you like to drink?"

Why did she have the feeling that she was going to need something to
bolster her up presently?

"Gin and tonic," she told him.  A drink she disliked but Debbie, who
knew about these things, had assured her once that there was nothing
like it to pull a girl together.

Rodney looked surprised.

"That's not like you, Olivia."

She didn't reply to that.

"Tell me what you've been doing, and why do you want to talk, Rodney?
It's lovely to see you, but you sounded so--so urgent on the phone."

He had no time to answer because the waiter handed them the menus and
they both studied them.  At least Olivia appeared to be studying hers,
but actually she was wondering about Rodney.  She asked for mushrooms
in a garlic sauce and a Dover sole with a salad, and took a heartening
sip of her drink.  It was horrible but she saw what Debbie meant.  She
took another sip.

Their talk was trivial as they ate.  Whatever it was Rodney had to tell
her would doubtless be told over their coffee.

He was an amusing companion, going from one topic to the next and never
once mentioning his own work.  Nor did he ask her about her own job or
what she had been doing.  She would tell him presently, she decided,
and suppressed peevish surprise when he waved away the waiter with his
trolley of desserts and ordered coffee.  She was a girl with a healthy
appetite and she had had her eye on the peach pavlova.

She poured the coffee and caught Rodney's eye.

"Well?"  she asked pleasantly.

"Out with it, my dear.  Have you been made redundant--I..."

"Olivia, we've known each other a long time-we've been good
friends--you may even have expected us to marry.  I find this very
difficult to say..."

"Well, have a go!"  she encouraged in a matter-of- fact voice which
quite concealed her shock.

"As you say, we've been friends for a long time."

"Perhaps you've guessed."  Rodney was having difficulty in coming to
the point.

"Well, no, I can't say I have."

"The truth is I haven't been away--I wanted to tell you but it was too
difficult.  I'm in love.  We're going to be married very shortly..."

"Before you get your new car?"  asked Olivia.  Silly, but what else to
say?

"Yes, yes, of course.  She's worth a dozen new cars.  She's
wonderful."

She looked at him across the table.  Her grandmother was quite right:
his eyes were too close together.

She smiled her sweetest smile.

"Why, Rodney, how could I possibly have thought such a thing?  I'm
thinking of getting married myself."

"You could have told me..."

She gave him a limpid look.  He looked awkward and added, "What's he
like?  Has he got a good job?  When are you getting married?"

"Handsome.  He has a profession and we intend to marry quite soon.
Enough about me, Rodney, tell me about the girl you're going to marry.
Is she pretty?  Dark?  Fair?"

"Quite pretty.  I suppose you'd call her fair.  Her father's chairman
of several big companies."

"Now that is nice--a wife with money-bags."

He looked astounded.

"Olivia, how can you say such a thing?

We're old friends--I can't believe my ears.  "

"Old friends can say what they like to each other, Rodney.

If I stay here much longer I might say a great deal more, so I'll go.
"

He got to his feet as she stood up.

"You can't," he spluttered.

"I'll drive you back; it's the least I can do."

"Don't be a pompous ass," said Olivia pleasantly, and walked out of the
bistro and started along the street to the bus-stop.

Sitting in the bus presently, she decided that her heart wasn't broken.
Her pride had a nasty dent in it, though, and she felt a sadness which
would probably turn into self-pity unless she did something about it.
Of course it happened to thousands of girls, and she had to admit that
she had thought of him as part of her pleasant life before her father
had died, hoping that somehow or other she could turn back the clock by
marrying him.  She had been fond of him, accepted him as more than a
friend, and although she had been in and out of love several times she
had never given her whole heart; she had supposed that she would do
that when they married.

"How silly can you get?"  muttered Olivia, and the severe-looking
couple sitting in front of her turned round to stare.

"I counted my chickens before they were hatched," she told them
gravely, and since it was her stop got off the bus.

"It must be the gin and tonic," she said to herself.

"Or perhaps I'm in shock."  She unlocked the front door and went in.

"I'll make a strong cup of tea."

The sitting-room door was half open.

"You're home early, darling," said her mother.

"Is Rodney with you?"

Olivia poked her head round the door.

"I came home by bus.

I'm going to make a cup of tea--would you like one?  " She glanced
across the room to her grandmother.

"And you.

Granny?  "

"You have refused him," said Mrs.  Fitzgibbon accusingly.

"It is time you lea mt on which side your bread is buttered, Olivia."

"You're quite right.  Granny, his eyes are too close together, and he's
going to marry the daughter of a chairman of several large
companies."

"Do not be flippant, Olivia.  What do you intend to do?"

"Put the kettle on and have a cup of tea," said Olivia.

"You're not upset, darling?"  asked her mother anxiously.

"We all thought he wanted to marry you."

Olivia left the door and went to drop a kiss on her mother's cheek.

"I'm not a bit upset, love."  She spoke with matter- of-fact
cheerfulness because her mother did look upset.  Unlike her daughter
she was a small, frail little woman, who had been cherished all her
married life and was still bewildered by the lack of it, despite
Olivia's care of her.

"I'll make the tea."

She sat between the two of them presently, listening to her grandmother
complaining about the lack of money, her lack of a job, and now her
inability to get herself a husband.

"You're such a big girl," observed Mrs.  Pitzgibbon snappily.

Olivia, used to this kind of talk and not listening to it, drank her
tea and presently took herself off, washing the tea things in the
kitchen, laying her grandmother's breakfast tray and their own
breakfast, before she at last closed the door of her room.

Now, at last, she could cry her eyes out in peace.

CHAPTER TWO

debbie looked up from the piles of folders on the table in the Records
Office as the door opened and Mr.  van der Eisler came in.  Her
disconsolate face broke into a smile at the sight of him, although she
asked with a touch of wariness, "Oh, hello--have I sent the wrong notes
up again?  I can't get anything right, and now that Olivia's not here
to sort things out for me I seem to be in a muddle the whole time."

He came unhurriedly to the table and glanced at the untidy piles on
it.

"I expect it will get easier once you have got used to being on your
own.  And I do want some notes, but there's no hurry.  Do you have to
file these before you go home?"

She nodded.

"It's almost five o'clock and I daren't leave them until the morning;
there'll be some bossy old sister coming down and wanting to know where
this and that is.

Interfering so-and-sos.  "

"Ten minutes' work at the most," declared Mr.  van der Eisler.

"I'll sort them into alphabetical order, you file them."

"Cor--you mean you'll give a hand?  But no one ever does..."

He was already busy, and after a moment she did as he suggested.

"I expect you miss Olivia," he observed presently.

"You bet I do."

"Does she come to see you?"  His voice was casual.

"No, worse luck.  Doesn't live near here.  Her granny's got a flat
Islington way; she and her mum have to live with her since her dad
died, left them badly off.  Not that Olivia told me much--shut up like
an oyster when it came to her private life."  She laughed.

"Not like me."

He handed her another pile of folders.

"You live near the hospital?"

"Five minutes walk.  Me dad's out of work.  Mum's part-time at the
supermarket.  Was I scared that I'd get the sack?  Olivia didn't tell
me, but the girl in the office said as how she had another job to go
to.  This wasn't her cup of tea.  Been to one of those la-di-da
schools, I dare say.  Always spoke posh, if you see what I mean."

Mr.  van der Eisler agreed that he saw.

"Not many jobs going in Islington, I should have thought."

"Not where her granny lives--one of those dull streets with rows of
houses with net curtains.  Had a soppy name too--Sylvester Crescent."

Mr.  van der Eisler's heavy lids drooped over the gleam in his eyes.

"Very fanciful," he agreed.  He handed over the last pile, waited while
Debbie filed the folders away and came back to the table, made his
request for the notes he needed, listened with a kind smile to her
thanks and, with the folder under his arm, took himself off.

Debbie, bundling herself into her jacket, addressed the tidy shelves.

"Now there's a real gent for you.  That was a nice chat too--no one
knows how dull it is down here these days."

Mr.  van der Eisler, discussing the next day's list with the senior
surgical registrar and the theatre sister, wrung from that lady a
reluctant assent to begin operating at eight o'clock in the morning
instead of an hour later, gave her a smile to set her elderly heart
beating a good deal faster, and took his leave.

"That man could wring blood from a stone," declared Sister.

"I'm sure I don't know why I let him get away with it..."

The registrar laughed.

"Go one with you, you know you'd agree to open theatre at six a.m. He's
a splendid man and a first-rate surgeon.  He's been here several weeks
now, hasn't he?  Handed over several new techniques, shared his ideas
with Mr.  Jenks-between them they've perfected them--look at Mrs. Eliza
Brown."

"He'll be leaving soon, I suppose."

"Yes, and Mr.  Jenks is going back with him for a week or two."  He
turned to leave.

"He'll be back, I've no doubt--goes all over the place--got an
international reputation already.  Not bad for a man of thirty-six."

He wandered away to look out of a window, in time to see Mr.  van der
Eisler's grey Bentley edge out of the hospital forecourt.

"I wonder where he goes?"  he reflected aloud.

Mr.  van der Eisler was going to Islington to cast his eye over
Sylvester Crescent.  He found it eventually, tooling patiently up and
down identical streets of identical houses, and drove its length until
he came to Mr.  Patel's shop, still open.

Mr.  van der Eisler, who never purchased food for his excellently run
household, nevertheless purchased a tin of baked beans, and engaged Mr.
Patel in casual conversation.

Naturally enough the talk led to observations about Islington and
Sylvester Crescent in particular.

"A quiet area," observed Mr.  van der Eisler.

"Flats, I suppose, and elderly people."

"You are right, sir."  Mr.  Patel, with no customers in the offing, was
glad of a chat.

"Many elderly ladies and gentlemen.  It is not a street for the
young--and an awkward journey to the day's work.  There is Miss
Harding, who lives with her grandmother Mrs.  Fitzgibbon at number
twenty-six, but I see her each morning now, and I think she must no
longer work."  He sighed.

"Such a beautiful young lady too.

It is dull here for the young.  "

Mr.  van der Eisler murmured suitably, remarked that Mr.  Patel and his
shop must be a boon and a blessing to the neighbourhood, professed
himself pleased with his purchase, paid for it and got back into his
car.

Number twenty-six was in the middle of the row of houses and there was
a chink of light showing between the heavy curtains pulled across the
windows on the ground floor.

He drove back to the quiet, elegant street near Sloane Square and let
himself into his ground-floor flat to be met in the hall by his
housekeeper.

"You're late, sir.  Your dinner's ready and I'll be so bold as to say
that it won't keep for more than five minutes."

"Excellent timing, Becky."  He patted her plump shoulder and added,
"Here's something for you to amuse yourself with."

He handed her the bag and she looked inside.

"Mr.  Haso, whatever will you do next?  Since when have you eaten baked
beans?"  She gave him a suspicious glance.

"What did you want to buy it for?"

"Well, I needed to ask for some information and the best place was the
local corner shop."

Miss Rebecca Potts, elderly now, and long since retired as his nanny,
was his devoted housekeeper whenever he was in London, and she knew
better than to ask him why he wanted to know something.  All the same,
she gave him a sharp look.

"I'll dish up," she told him severely.

"You've time for a drink."

He picked up his bag and went down the hall to his study and sat down
in the leather armchair drawn up to the fire.  A drink in his hand, he
sat quietly, busy with his thoughts, until Becky knocked on the door.

It was two days before he had the opportunity to return to Sylvester
Crescent.  He had no plan as to what he intended doing, only the vague
idea of seeing Olivia going to or from the shops or, failing that,
calling at her grandmother's flat with some trumped- up story about
Debbie.

Perhaps, he thought ruefully, once he had met her again, he would be
able to get her off his mind.

He saw her as he turned the car into Sylvester Crescent, coming towards
him in her well-worn jacket and skirt, her bright hair a splash of
colour in the sober street, a shopping basket over her arm.  He slowed
the car and stopped as she drew abreast of it.

The quick colour swept over her face when she saw him but she said
composedly, "Why, good morning, Mr.  van der Eisler.

Have you a patient to visit?  "

Mr.  van der Eisler, an upright and god fearing man, could on occasion
lie like a trooper when it was necessary, and he considered that this
was necessary.

"No, no, I have a few hours with nothing to do.  I am looking for a
suitable flat for a friend who will be coming to London for a few
months."

He got out of the car and stood beside her.

"A most delightful surprise to meet you again.  I was in the Records
Office only the other day and Debbie was telling me how much she missed
you.  She tells me that you have another job--how fortunate..."

"Yes, isn't it?"  She caught his eye and something in his look made her
add, "Well, no, I haven't actually.  I told her that because she was
worried about getting the sack.  Is she managing?"

"Tolerably well."  He smiled down at her, looking so kind that she had
a sudden urge to tell him about her grandmother, whose nasty little
digs about her not getting a job had done nothing to make her fruitless
efforts easier to bear.  Instead she said briskly, "It's nice meeting
you, but don't let me keep you from your house-hunting."

Mr.  van der Eisler, never a man to be deterred from his purpose, stood
his ground.

"As to that--' he began, and was interrupted by the sudden appearance
of Rodney, who had pulled in behind the Bentley and was grabbing Olivia
by the arm.

"Olivia--I had to come and see you..."  Olivia removed her arm.

"Why?"  she asked coldly.

"Oh, old friends and all that, you know.  Wouldn't like you to think
badly of me--you did walk off in a huff..."  He glanced at Mr.  van der
Eisler towering over him, a look of only the faintest interest upon his
face.

"I say," Rodney went on, 'is this the lucky man?  "

He shook hands, beaming.

"Olivia said she was going to get married--described you to a T. Well,
everything works out for the best, doesn't it?"  He patted Olivia's
shoulder.

"You don't know what a relief it is to see you so happy.  Can't stop
now.  My regards to your mother.  Bye, old girl."

He flashed a smile at them both, got back into his car, and drove away
without looking back.

Olivia looked at her feet and wished she could stop blushing, and Mr.
van der Eisler looked at the top of her head and admired her hair.

"I can explain," said Olivia to her shoes.

"It wasn't you I described; I said he was very large and had a
profession and a great deal of money."  She added crossly, "Well,
that's what any girl would say, isn't it?"

Mr.  van der Eisler, used to unravelling his patients' meanderings, hit
the nail on the head accurately.

"Any girl worth her salt," he agreed gravely.

"Did you actually intend to marry this--this fellow?"

"Well, you see, I've known him for years, long before Father died and
we had to move here, and somehow he seemed part of my life then and I
didn't want to give that up--do you see what I mean?"

She looked at him then.  He looked just as a favourite uncle or cousin
might have looked: a safe recipient of her woes, ready to give sound
advice.  She said breathlessly, "I'm sorry, I can't think why I'm
boring you with all this.

Please forgive me-he-Rodney was something of a shock.  "

He took her basket from her.

"Get in the car," he suggested mildly.

"We will have a cup of coffee before you do your shopping."

"No, no, thank you.  I can't keep you standing around any longer.  I
must get the fish..."

As she was speaking she found herself being urged gently into the
Bentley.

"Tell me where we can get coffee I passed some shops further back."

"There's the Coffee-Pot, about five minutes' walk away so it's close
by.  Aren't I wasting your time?"  she asked uneasily.

"Certainly not.  In fact, while we are having it I shall pick your
brains as to the best way of finding a flat."

The cafe was in a side-street.  He parked the car, opened her door for
her, and followed her into the half-empty place.  It was small, with
half a dozen tables with pink formica tops, and the chairs looked
fragile.  Mr.  van der Eisler, a man of some seventeen stones in
weight, sat down gingerly.  He mistrusted the chairs and he mistrusted
the coffee which, when it came, justified his doubts, but Olivia, happy
to be doing something different in her otherwise rather dull days,
drank hers with every appearance of enjoyment and, while she did,
explained in a matter-of-fact way about living with Granny.

"I dare say you are glad to have a brief holiday," he suggested, and
handed her the plate of Rich Tea biscuits which had come with the
coffee.

"Well, no, not really.  I mean, I do need a job as soon as possible,
only I'm not trained for anything really useful..."  She went on in a
bright voice, "Of course I shall find something soon, I'm sure."

"Undoubtedly," he agreed, and went on to talk of other things.  He had
had years of calming timid patients, so he set about putting Olivia at
her ease before mentioning casually that he would be going back to
Holland very shortly.

"Oh--but will you come back here?"

"Yes.  I'm an honorary consultant at Jerome's, so I'm frequently over
here.  I do have beds in several hospitals in Holland--I divide my time
between the two."  He drank the last of the coffee with relief.

"Do you plan to stay with your grandmother for the foreseeable
future?"

"Until I can get a job where Mother and I can live together.

Only I'm not sure what kind of job.  There are lots of advertisements
for housekeepers and minders, although I'm not sure what a minder is
and I'm not good enough at housekeeping, although I could do domestic
work.  "

He studied the lovely face opposite him and shook his head.

"I hardly think you're suitable for that."

Which dampened her spirits, although she didn't let him see that.

"I really have to go.  It has been nice meeting you again and I do hope
you find a nice flat for your friend."

He paid the bill and they went outside, and she held out a hand as they
stood on the pavement.

"Goodbye, Mr.  van der Eisler.  Please give Debbie my love if ever you
should see her.  Please don't tell her that I haven't got a job yet."

She walked away quickly, wishing that she could spend the whole day
with him; he had seemed like an old friend and she lacked friends.

By the time she reached the fishmonger's the fillets of plaice that her
grandmother had fancied for dinner that evening had been sold and she
had to buy a whole large plaice and have it filleted, which cost a good
deal more money.  Olivia, her head rather too full of Mr.  van der
Eisler, didn't care.

Naturally enough, when she returned to the flat she was asked why she
had spent half the morning doing a small amount of shopping.

"Loitering around drinking coffee, I suppose," said Mrs.  Fitzgibbon
accusingly.

"I met someone I knew at the hospital; we had coffee together," said
Olivia.  She didn't mention Rodney.

Mr.  van der Eisler drove himself back to his home, ate the lunch Becky
had ready for him, and went to the hospital to take a ward-round.  None
of the students trailing him from one patient to the next had the least
suspicion that one corner of his brilliant mind was grappling with the
problem of Olivia while he posed courteous questions to each of them in
turn.

Olivia had let fall the information that her grandmother had once lived
in a small village in Wiltshire,

and in that county was the school where his small goddaughter was a
boarder, since her own grandmother lived near enough to it for her to
visit frequently during term-time.  In the holidays she went back to
Holland to her widowed mother, who had sent her to an English school
because her dead husband had wanted that.  Might there be a possibility
of Mrs.  Fitzgibbon and Nel's grandmother being acquainted, or at least
having mutual friends?  It was worth a try.  "Now," he said in his
placid way, 'which of you gentlemen will explain to me the exact
reasons which make it necessary for me to operate upon Miss Forbes? 
"

He smiled down at the woman lying in bed and added, "And restoring her
to normal good health once more?"  He sounded so confident that she
smiled back at him.

It was several days before Mr.  van der Eisler was free to drive down
to Wiltshire.  His small goddaughter's grandmother lived in a village
some five or six miles from Bradford-on-Avon and on that particular
morning there was more than a hint of spring in the air.  The sky was
blue--albeit rather pale, the sun shone--as yet without much warmth,
and the countryside was tipped with green.  Slowing down to turn off
the road on to a narrow country lane leading to Earleigh Gilford, he
told himself that he was wasting his time: Olivia had probably got
herself a job by now and the chance of her grandmother knowing Lady
Brennon was so remote as to be hopeless.

He had phoned ahead and they met as old friends, for both of them had
been charged with the care of Nel during term-time.

Lady Brennon was a youthful sixty, living in a charming little Georgian
villa on the edge of the village, busy with her garden and her
painting, her dogs and the various village committees on which she
sat.

"So nice to see you, Haso."  She looked sad for a moment.

"It seems a long time since Rob's wedding and your coming here as his
best man.  I miss him still, you know.  Thank heavens we have little
Nel."

They went into the house together and he asked, "Is she here for the
weekend?"

"Yes, she'll be here on Saturday.  There's no chance of your staying
until then?"

"I'm afraid not.  I'll try and get down before the Easter holidays.  In
fact, I might be able to arrange things so I can drive her over to
Holland."

"That would be splendid."  Lady Brennon poured their coffee.

"The child's very fond of you.  Rita phoned this week; she said that
you had been to see her when you were in Holland.

Was she happy?  "

"I believe so.  She likes her work and she has her friends.

She misses Nel, but she wants to carry out Rob's wishes.  "

"Of course.  Probably she will change her mind and come to live here
later on."

"Perhaps."  He put down his cup.

"Lady Brennon, did you know a Mrs.  Fitzgibbon--oh, it would be some
years ago?  I believe she lived somewhere near Bradford-on-Avon."  He
dredged up the bits and pieces of information that Olivia had let
drop.

"I believe her daughter married a man called Harding-rather a grand
wedding in Bath Abbey..."

"Fitzgibbon?  The name rings a bell.  You know her?  She is a friend of
yours?  Rather an elderly one..."

"No.  No.  I have never met her."

"Then I can tell you that she was a most disagreeable woman--I remember
her very well--bullied her daughter, a rather sweet little thing.
Married against her wishes, I believe.  I met her several times.  The
daughter had a little girl--the husband died, I believe, it was in the
Telegraph a few years ago.  Dear me, it must be almost thirty years
since we met."

She gave Haso an enquiring look.

"May I know why you are interested in her?"

"I have met her granddaughter--she was working at Jerome's as a filing
clerk, got made redundant and can't find work.

She and her mother live with Mrs.  Fitzgibbon and I gather are not
happy there.  Olivia has said very little about herself, "and I am
barely acquainted with her, but she got herself sacked so that the girl
she worked with, who desperately needs the money, could keep her job,
and I wondered if you knew of anything..."  He smiled then.

"I have no personal interest in her; it is only that I feel that she
deserves a better chance."

"Is she educated?"

"Yes.  Intelligent and well-mannered, speaks well, very level-headed, I
should imagine.  She is lacking in the essentials typing, shorthand,
computers all that kind of thing.  She had no need to work until her
father died."

"Is she very young?"

"I should guess her to be in her late twenties."  He frowned.

"I think she would make a good governess if they still have such
people."

"Not to any extent, I'm afraid.  She might get a post in a private
school, with the smaller children perhaps, or even taking drama classes
for the older girls.  What do you want me to do, Haso?"

"I'm presuming on your kindness, Lady Brennon.  If you should hear of
something which might suit Olivia, could you possibly find a reason to
write to Mrs.  Fitzgibbon, mention the job, and say how you wished you
knew of someone suitable to fill it?  It is most unlikely, I know, but
a kindly fate does occasionally step in.  I don't wish her to know that
I have had anything to do with it."

"I will be most discreet.  It would certainly be an ideal solution, and
since it would appear to Mrs.  Fitzgibbon that it was through her good
offices that Olivia should hear of the job she might present no
difficulties.  I'll ask around, my dear.  There are any number of
schools around here, you know."

They talked about other things then, and Olivia wasn't mentioned again,
and later, as he drove himself back to London, Mr.  van der Eisler's
thoughts were of the week ahead of him--Liverpool and then Birmingham,
then back to Holland.  It was three weeks before he returned to his
London home.  It was late at night on the first day of his return
before he had the leisure to sit down and read his post.  A good deal
of it he consigned to the wastepaper basket and then put the rest aside
while he read the letter from Lady Brennon.  She had telephoned him,
she wrote, and Becky had told her that he was away so it seemed best to
write.  By the greatest good fortune, she went on, Nel had told her on
her half-term holiday that Miss Tomkins, who it seemed was a Jill of
all trades at the school, had left suddenly and there was no one to
take her place.  Lady Brennon had acted with speed, recommended Olivia
to the headmistress on the strength of his recommendation, and written
to Mrs. Fitzgibbon, using the excuse that a friend of hers had seen
Olivia's mother when she was in London and that that had prompted Lady
Brennon to write to her.  A lie, of course, she had put in brackets. 
The letter continued:

"The upshot is, Haso, that your protegee is at Nel's school, working
out the rest of the term, and if she proves satisfactory she is to be
taken on on a termly basis and allowed to live in a small annexe of the
school.  Very poky, so Nel tells me, but there is room for her mother
if she cares to go and live there.  The salary is barely adequate but,
as it has been pointed out, she has no qualifications.  I hope this
news will relieve you from further feelings of responsibility towards
Olivia who, from Nel's account, is well-liked and apparently happy.  Do
phone when you can spare the time, and tell me how Rita is.  Still as
pretty as ever, I'm sure, and such a delightful companion.  I hope you
found time to see something of her."

He smiled as he put the letter down, aware that it was Lady Brennon's
dearest wish that he should marry Rita.  What could be more suitable?
They knew each other well, her husband had been his closest friend and
he had a strong affection for Nel.  It was all so suitable, and he
supposed that it would be a sensible thing to do.  His thoughts strayed
to Olivia;

when he went to school to collect Nel he would make a point of seeing
her.  He supposed his interest in her had been heightened by the
injustice of her dismissal.  Now that she was settled he could dismiss
her from his mind, where she had been lurking for the past few weeks.

Lady Brennon's letter had reached Mrs.  Fitzgibbon at an opportune
moment; there had been another letter in the post that morning, for
Olivia, regretting that the post of assistant in a West End florist's
had been filled.

Olivia, listening to her grandmother's diatribe on the inability of
young women to find suitable employment allowed most of it to flow over
her head she knew it by heart now.  Instead she wondered about Mr.  van
der Eisler.

Back in Holland, she sup posed, and best forgotten.

A silence from her grandmother made her look up.  The old lady was
reading the letter in her hand, and when she had finished it she
re-read it.  She spoke.

"It is a good thing that I have a number of connections with those of a
good background."  She put the letter down.

"This is a letter from an old friend who by some remote chance has
written to me you need not concern yourself as to the details."  She
waited for Olivia to say something but, since she had no intention of
concerning herself, she went on writing a note for the milkman and
remained silent.

"There is a position at a girls' school outside Bath making yourself
useful, as far as I can see.  The current holder has had to leave for
some family reason and the headmistress is anxious to find someone
suitable at the earliest possible moment.  She suggests that you
telephone and make an appointment.  The headmistress is coming to
London let me see tomorrow."

Olivia felt her grandmother's beady eyes fixed on her.

"Just what kind of a job is it.  Granny?"

"How should I know?  You must bestir yourself and go and find out for
yourself."

"After I have talked to Mother.  She'll be back presently, we can talk
about it then."

Mrs.  Harding thought it might be quite nice.

"Of course I shall miss you, love, but you'll have the school
holidays."

"Yes, Mother.  If it were possible, would you come and live there if I
get the job--I dare say we could rent a small house nearby."

"Oh, darling, that would be lovely, to live in the country again." 
They were in the kitchen with the door shut but all the same she
lowered her voice.

"I'm sure Granny would like to have the flat to herself again.  Do go
and see this lady."

So Olivia went, and since it was a fine day and quite warm she wore her
jersey dress--like most of her clothes not the height of fashion but
still elegant.  She hoped the headmistress would like her, for although
she didn't like leaving her mother she would be able to send her money
and they might even take a holiday together.  Her grandmother, she felt
sure, would be only too glad to be rid of them both.

The headmistress.  Miss Cross, was middle-aged, plump and good-natured
and, when Olivia explained that she had no experience of any sort other
than filing documents, waved this aside.

"Come and see how you get on," she suggested.

"There are still several weeks of this term--almost a month.

If you like the work and we like you, then I'll employ you on a termly
basis.  You'll live in, of course--there's a small annexe you'll have
to yourself.  I don't know if you have a dependant?  I've no objection
to a mother or sister living with you.  The salary is fair, I consider,
and you get your meals while you're on duty.  You're not married or
anything like that?  "

"No, Miss Cross."

"Then you ought to be, a lovely creature like you!  Start on Saturday.
Let me know what time your train gets to Bath;

I'll have you met.  "

Coincidence, good luck, fate--call it what you will, reflected Olivia,
now something or someone had allowed her to fall on her feet.  She had
been at the school for two weeks and she was happy.  She wasn't sure
just what she could call herself, for no two days were alike, but being
a practical girl she took that in her stride.  She plaited small heads
of hair, inspected fingernails if Matron was busy, played rounders
during the games hour, took prep with the older girls, drove Miss Cross
into Bath whenever she needed to go, washed the same small heads of
hair, comforted those who had grazed knees and in between these tasks
filled in for anyone on the staff who happened to be absent for any
reason.  It was a good thing that she had been good at games at school,
for she found herself on several occasions tearing up and down the
hockey pitch blowing her whistle.

She had enjoyed it too.

The annexe had been a pleasant surprise.  It was small, certainly, but
there was a living-room with an alcove used as a kitchen, a shower-room
and, up the narrow staircase, two bedrooms just large enough to contain
a bed, a chest of drawers and a chair.  Whoever had had the place
before her had been clever with orange boxes, disguising them as
bedside tables, bookshelves and an extra seat with a cushion neatly
nailed on to it.

If Miss Cross was to keep her on then there was no reason why her
mother shouldn't come and stay with her, even live with her.  The
school was in the country, but there was a good bus service into Bath
from the village.

Olivia, on this particular Saturday morning, was rounding up the
smallest of the girls ready for their weekly swimming lesson in the
heated swimming- pool in the school's basement.  The sports mistress
would be in charge but Olivia was expected to give a hand, something
she enjoyed, for she was a good swimmer and teaching the sometimes
unwilling learners was a challenge.  She marched them through the
school and down the stairs to the basement, saw them into their
swimsuits, counted heads, and handed them over to Miss Ross, a small
woman with a powerful voice, before going off to get into her own
swimsuit.

While Miss Ross got on with the actual teaching Olivia patrolled the
pool, swimming slowly, making sure that the children were under her
watchful eye, encouraging the faint-hearted to get their feet off the
bottom of the pool and applauding those who were splashing their way
from one side to the other.  Once they were all out of the water she
wrapped herself in a robe and went round checking that each child had
showered, finding mislaid garments and then collecting up the sopping
wet swimsuits.

Only when they were all once more dressed and handed over to Miss Ross
could she shower and dress herself, before hurrying back to the school
to the recreation room where she was expected to dispense hot cocoa and
biscuits.  It should have been her half-day but the junior house
mistress had gone to a wedding, which meant that Olivia would have the
charge of fifteen little girls until they were in bed and hopefully
asleep.  On Sunday it was her turn to shepherd the whole school, under
the guidance of Miss Cross and two of the senior teachers, to the
village church.

Getting ready for bed that night she owned to being tired but not
unhappy.  The pleasure of sitting in one's own small home, drinking a
last cup of tea before getting into bed, was by no means overrated.
Perhaps she was a born old maid?

She dismissed the idea.

"I shall be quite honest," she told herself, since there was no one
else to tell, "I should like to marry and have a kind and loving
husband and a handful of children.  Never mind if there isn't enough
money,

just enough to live on comfortably, and keep a dog or two, and cats of
course, and perhaps a donkey.  "

She put down her mug and took herself upstairs to bed.

There was the opportunity to think quietly the next morning;

the Reverend Bates' sermons were long and soothing, a fitting
background for her thoughts, and since they were simple and blameless
she didn't suppose that God would mind.

The end of term was approaching, she reflected, and she would go back
to Granny's flat for almost three weeks.

During that time she would have to see what her mother thought of
coming to live with her, always providing Miss Cross decided to keep
her.  The letters from her mother had been cheerful; Olivia thought
that without her her mother and grandmother lived fairly amicably
together. All the same, it would be nice if her mother was to pay a
visit.

She glanced down the row of childish faces under the school straw hats.
Perhaps she had found her niche in life.  She sighed and a small hand
crept into her lap and caught at her fingers, and she made haste to
smile down at the upturned little face.  It was Nel, a nice child whose
Granny lived not too far away.  She had confided in Olivia one day that
her daddy had died and Mummy lived in Holland, but she was here at
school because her Daddy had wanted her to be educated in England.

"I'm half-Dutch," she had said proudly, and instantly Mr.  van der
Eisler's hand some features had swum before Olivia's eyes.  She had
wiped him out at once and suggested a game of Ludo.

With the end of term so near now there was an air of bustle and
excitement at the school.  Regular lessons gave way to exams, an
expedition to the Roman Baths in Bath, while Miss Prosser, who taught
history and geography, recited their history, and finally the school
play, with its attendant rush and scurry behind the curtains, and then
the last morning, with all the little girls--dressed, cases packed,
forgotten articles sought for and found--waiting anxiously to be
collected.

The first parents arrived soon after breakfast and after them a steady
stream of cars.  Olivia, finding stray children, tying shoelaces and
straightening hats, remembered that she was to drive Miss Cross into
Bath that afternoon.

When she got back she would be able to pack her own things and by then
she would know if she was to return.  Half the children had gone when
Nel, standing beside her, gave a squeal of delight.

"There's Mummy and Uncle Haso."

She gave Olivia a poke to make sure that she was listening.

"We're going to Holland..."

"How nice," said Olivia, and allowed her lovely mouth to drop open. 
Mr. van der Eisler, accompanied by an elegantly dressed woman with fair
hair cut in a boyish crop, was coming towards her.

Her surprise was so absolute that she could think of nothing to say,
but Mr.  van der Eisler, whose surprise wasn't surprise at all but
actually looked genuine, nodded in a friendly way.

"Olivia--who would have expected to see you here?"

He suffered a hug from Nel and turned to his companion.

"Rita, this is a young lady who worked at Jerome's.  Nel's mother,
Olivia--Mrs.  Brennon."

"How nice," said Mrs.  Brennon, which could have meant anything.  She
didn't shake hands but kissed her daughter and said, "Shall we go,
Haso?  Lady Brennon will be expecting us..."  She smiled briefly at
Olivia.

"Goodbye.  I do hope that Nel has been good."

She didn't wait for an answer but took Nel's hand and went to the
car.

Mr.  van der Eisler paused just long enough to ask if she was happy.

"Oh, very, thank you."  Just in case he hadn't been listening, she
added, "I have never been so happy."

His, "Splendid," was uttered in a detached manner, as was his
goodbye.

CHAPTER THREE

'well, what did you expect?  " Olivia asked her face in the
looking-glass in her bedroom.

"I dare say he had a job to remember you--she was very attractive, and
he's fond of Nel."

She started to pack in a half-hearted way, filling in time until Miss
Cross was ready to go into Bath.

In Bath she was told to park the car and return in two hours' time,
which meant that she had the leisure to look at the shops and have a
cup of tea.  On the way back to the school Miss Cross, who had hardly
spoken, said, "Come to my study before supper this evening, Olivia. You
will be returning home tomorrow?"

"Yes, Miss Cross."  It would have been nice if she could ask if she was
to be given the sack but she didn't dare.  Fate had been tiresome
enough without being tempted.

She had almost finished her packing when Miss Cross's maid came to
summon her to the study.  It was rather worse than a visit to the
dentist, thought Olivia, tapping on the door, and when bidden to enter,
she entered.

"Sit down Olivia."  Miss Cross looked her usual cosy self, but that was
nothing to go by.

"You have been happy here?"  she asked.

"Yes, Miss Cross."

"Good.  You have been most satisfactory---fitted in very well, and the
children like you.  I am prepared to engage you for the following term,
Olivia.  The same conditions will apply.  You play tennis and
croquet?"

"Yes, Miss Cross."

"Good.  Please return here two days before the pupils."  She consulted
the desk calendar.

"That will be the fifteenth of April.  Let us know the time of your
arrival and you will be met at the station."  She smiled.

"You are willing to agree to these arrangements?"

"Yes, Miss Cross.  I shall be happy to come back for the next term."

"That is settled, then.  I'll say goodbye now, since you will be
leaving in the morning and I shall be engaged until lunchtime."

Olivia took herself back to her room, dancing along the corridors,
humming cheerfully.  I may be an old maid, she reflected, but at least
I'm a happy one.

It was raining when she arrived at Sylvester Crescent and the row of
prim houses looked unwelcoming, but her mother was at the window
looking out for her so that she forgot the sudden pang of homesickness
for the school.  They talked and laughed together, happy to see each
other again, until Mrs.  Fitzgibbon came to join them.

She offered a cheek for Olivia's kiss.

"I was resting but of course your voices disturbed me.  Are you back
for good?"

"No, just for the Easter holidays.  You look well, Granny."

"My looks have never pitied me, I keep my sufferings to myself."

Olivia winked at her mother and went to get the tea.  Granny was only
bearable if one treated her as a joke.

Her mother came into the kitchen presently.

"It's only because Granny had her nap disturbed," she explained,
looking worried.

"I'm sure she's very glad to see you, love."

Olivia warmed the teapot.

"Yes, dear.  How do you like the idea of coming to stay with me for a
week or two during the term?  I won't be free, of course, but there's a
good bus service into Bath and I'll be there in the evenings once I'm
off-duty."

"I'd like that, darling.  I won't be in the way?"

Olivia gave her parent a hug.

"Never, my dear.  The country's lovely and the village is sweet--very
close to Bath, of course, but it's still country."

Life was a little dull after the bustle of school but she had saved a
good deal of her salary and took her mother out and about on modest
expeditions.

"This is lovely," said Mrs.  Harding, perched on top of a sightseeing
bus, doing the rounds of the famous landmarks.

"It all looks quite different from up here."  She turned to look at
Olivia.

"I think your grandmother is quite pleased to have the flat to herself.
She's been on her own for so long now, it must be tiresome for her to
have me there all the time."

Olivia nodded.

"I know.  Mother.  I hope that after this next term Miss Cross might
take me on permanently, then you can come and live with me.  The annexe
is small but there's room for two.  You could join the WI again, and
help with the church flowers and do the, shopping.  It would be like
old times."

There were two days left of her holiday when Mrs.  Fitzgibbon,
answering the phone, said, "It's for yoi*, Olivia.  A man--surely not
Rodney? You had better take it."

She handed over the receiver to Olivia and sa;

back in her chair, shamelessly eavesdropping.

"Yes?"  She spoke sharply.

"Cold steel," said Mr.  van der Eisler in her ear.

"Did you think that it was Rodney?"

She turned her back on her grandmother so that that lady wouldn't see
the pleased smile on her face.

"No, it's the surprise."

"I shall be driving Nel back to her school; we'll collect you on the
way."

"Oh, but I..."

"Go back two days earlier, so Nel tells me.  She is going to stay with
her grandmother before she returns to school."

Oh well.  "

"Olivia, I must beg you to stop bleating and listen to what I have to
say.  We shall call for you in two days' time.  Ten o'clock in the
morning."

He rang off without so much as a goodbye and she put down the
receiver.

"Who was that?"  demanded her grandmother.

"You didn't have much to say for yourself."

"There was no need," said Olivia, and went in search of her mother.

Waiting for him to arrive two mornings later, her mother said, "I've
made some coffee, Olivia.  Do you suppose he'll drink it?"

"Mother, I have no idea.  He sounded so business'ike on the phone.
Perhaps he's in a tearing hurry to get to Nel's granny."

"Well, it's ready if he wants it," said Mrs.  Harding.

"But I do hope he stops for just a few minutes your grandmother is
anxious to see him."

"I was afraid of that," said Olivia.

He was punctual, standing there at the front door, handsome,
self-assured and elegant in his tweeds.  Nel was hanging out of the car
window and Olivia said at once, "Oh, do come in.

Nel might like a drink and the coffee's ready.  Unless you're in a
tearing hurry?  "

"Coffee would be nice and I'm sure Nel wants to see where you live."

He opened the car door for the little girl, who skipped up to Olivia
and lifted her face for a kiss.

"I'm so glad you're coming back to school," she declared.

"I hope you stay there forever and ever."

Olivia stooped her splendid person.

"How very kind of you to say so, Nel.  Come in and have a glass of
lemonade."

Her mother came into the hall then, and Mr.  van der Eisler shook her
hand and smiled down at her and said all the right things in his
pleasant voice before Nel was introduced too.

"There's coffee," said Mrs.  Harding a little breathlessly.

This marvelous man--and Olivia knew him.  Her thoughts were already
wrapped in bridal veils and orange blossom.

"Come in and meet my mother."

Mrs.  Fitzgibbon was sitting in her chair, the uncomfortable one, and
one glance at her sufficed to cause Mr.  van der Eisler to adopt his
best bedside manner.  He became all at once self-assured, deferential,
and the epitome of a successful man who knew his own worth without
being boastful about it.

Olivia watched her grandmother's starchy manner melt into graciousness
while they drank their coffee and Nel roamed round the room, looking at
photographs and ornaments.  Olivia had got up to show Nel the little
musical box on the side-table when she heard her grandmother remark,
"Of course, Olivia is quite unskilled.  Never needed to work, and now
that it is unfortunately necessary her limitations are evident.  But
there, I am an old woman now and must bear with life's
disappointments."

Olivia supposed that she herself was one of them and was much heartened
by Mr.  van der Eisler's grave, "I must beg to differ, Mrs. 
Fitzgibbon. Olivia is fulfilling a much-needed want at Nel's school. 
It needs patience and kindness and understanding to care for children. 
I am told by the headmistress that she is worth her weight in gold."

He turned to Mrs.  Harding then.

"You must be so relieved to know that Olivia is so successful.  The
school is a good one and the surroundings are pleas ant.  Perhaps you
will be able to visit her?"

"Well, Olivia has asked me to go and stay with her during the term.  I
know I shall love it."

Mrs.  Fitzgibbon sighed loudly.

"How lucky that you are young enough to go and enjoy yourself.  I,
alas, must stay here alone."

Mr.  van der Eisler said easily, "I'm sure you would have no difficulty
in finding a companion, Mrs.  Fitzgibbon."  He stood up.

"You must forgive me if we leave now.  Nel's grandmother will be
waiting for her."

There was a small delay while Olivia whisked Nel upstairs, but not
before the child had said in a clear little voice, "Just in case I
should get caught short before we get to Granny's house.  Uncle Haso is
in a hurry."

The age of modesty is long past," said Mrs.  Fitzgibbon faintly.

"The seat's big enough for the pair of you," said Mr.  van der Eisler,
fastening the seatbelt round the pair of them and casting the luggage
into the boot, then getting in beside them and driving away with a
wave.

"I don't like your granny," said Nel, and her godfather turned a laugh
into a cough.

"She's old," said Olivia, and added, "I expect when you're old you
sometimes say things that other people just think to themselves..."

"She said you were one of life's disappointments ..."

"Yes, well, I suppose I am from her point of view.  You see, she
expected me to grow up small and dainty and get married when I was
young."

"Aren't you young?"

"Not very, I'm afraid."

"Well, you're very pretty.  I must see if I can find a husband for
you," said Nel importantly.

Mr.  van der Eisler spoke in a matter-of-fact manner.

"Most ladies prefer to choose their own husbands."

Olivia, rather red in the face, said smartly, "I had always thought
that the men did the choosing."

Mr.  van der Eisler chuckled.

"Don't you believe it.

They may be under the impression that they are doing so but it is after
all the lady who decides.  "

"I shall marry a prince," said Nel, a remark which Olivia welcomed with
relief since it was a topic which lasted until they were clear of the
last of the suburbs and driving smoothly on the motorway.

As they neared Bath she was rather surprised when he turned off the
motorway and took the Chippenham road, and still more surprised when he
turned off once more into a narrow country road.

He glanced at his watch.

"On time," he observed.

"Your granny will be waiting."

"The school?  " began Olivia.

"After lunch.  Lady Brennon asked me to bring you to lunch with her
first."

"But I don't know her."

"Of course you don't; you've never met her," he uttered, in such a
reasonable voice that she couldn't think of an answer.

Meeting Lady Brennon, Olivia wished that she had a granny like
her--smiling a welcome, delighted to see them all, hugging her small
granddaughter, including Olivia in the talk.  They sat down presently,
in the rather old-fashioned dining-room, to crown of lamb and new
potatoes and vegetables, which Lady Brennon assured her had been grown
in her garden.

"You like the country?"  she asked.

Olivia said that yes, she did and that she had spent her youth not so
very far away from Earleigh Gilford.

She offered no further details, though, and her hostess didn't question
her further, and presently, after a stroll around the garden, Mr.  van
der Eisler suggested that they should go.

Olivia got ready without any fuss and went out to the car, with Nel
hanging on to her arm, after bidding Lady Brennon goodbye and thanking
her with her nice manners so that that lady observed to Mr.  van der
Eisler, "A charming girl.  Miss Cross has got herself a gem there.  You
did well to busy yourself with her welfare, Haso.  She has no idea that
it was you?"

"No, and I do not wish her to know either.  I'm glad that she has found
a worthwhile job."

"You'll come back for tea before you return to town?  We haven't had a
talk about Rita."

At the school he took the key to the annexe and opened the door,
fetched her luggage and then inspected the small living-room, wandering
slowly round, looking at the cheap and cheerful prints on its walls,
peering at the bookshelves.  Before the mantelpiece he stopped to pick
up the card on it.

"Well, well, so Rodney has invited you to his wedding.

Surely an unkind thing to do?  Turning the knife in the wound, as it
were?  "

"Don't be absurd," said Olivia.

"There isn't a wound.  I dare say he asked me because we've known each
other for a long time."

Mr.  van der Eisler nipped the card with a nicely manicured
fingernail.

"With companion..."  He turned the card over and read aloud, '"I don't
know the name of your fiance but we hope that he will come with you"
"

Olivia was very pink in the face.

"It's really none of your business..."

"Ah, but it is, Olivia.  I may be only a chance acquaintance but I do
not wish to see you humiliated.  You intend going?"

She found herself telling him that she did.

"It's half-term so I'm free, and the wedding is at Bradford-on-Avon.  I
suppose she lives there."

"I shall escort you.  You will wear a pretty frock and one of those
hats women wear at weddings, and I shall do you proud in a morning
suit.  You will linger in Rodney's memory in the best possible light
well-dressed, carefree, and safe in the knowledge that your future is
secured."

"Are you joking?"  asked Olivia.

"Certainly not; marriage is no joking matter."

She said rudely, "How would you know, you aren't married, are you?" 
She wished the remark unsaid at once, but it was too late.  She
muttered, "Sorry, that was dreadfully rude."

He said silkily, "Yes, it was.  None the less, I shall accompany you to
this wedding.  It is the least I can do."  He put the card back and
went to the door.

"We seem fated to meet unexpectedly, do we not?"

She nodded.

"Yes, but you don't need to come to the wedding, you know.  You could
be busy in the city or something."

"I rather fancy seeing Rodney safely married."  He opened the door and
she held out a hand.

"Thank you very much for bringing me back.  I'm most grateful."  She
added, "Nel is fortunate to have such a loving granny."

"Yes."  He took her hand and smiled very kindly at her.

"Which cannot be said for you, Olivia."

She said gruffly, "Well, she's old, and I'm not what she hoped for."

He bent and kissed her lightly.

"Goodbye, Olivia."  She stood at the door and watched him drive away.
The kiss had rather shaken her but she didn't let it linger in her
thoughts.  She went back into the livingroom and picked up the wedding
invitation.

"I very much dislike being pitied," she said savagely.

"For two pins I shan't go to Rodney's wedding."

She had no chance to brood.  She settled into her little home, joined
the rest of the staff for a discussion as to the term's objectives, and
was detailed to check the dormitories with the matron and then, when
the children arrived, to get them unpacked and settled in---several
hours of hard work and bustle, followed by a number of tearful sessions
with those who wanted to go home again.

The weeks, slow to pass at first, quickened their pace; she enjoyed her
job despite the fact that she was at everyone's beck and call.  She
found herself painting scenery for the next end-of-term play, acting as
ball boy when she wasn't showing the smallest of the pupils how to hold
their racquets, playing rounders, or organising games when the weather
was wet.  From time to time in unexpected emergencies she found herself
taking a reading lesson.  Not the least of her tasks was caring for the
children's clothes, also helping Matron with their hair-washing,
driving to the doctor or the dentist and once, when Cook was ill,
cooking school dinner.

Half-term suddenly loomed, and Rodney's wedding.  She hadn't heard from
Mr.  van der Eisler and she stifled disappointment.

Still, she would go to the wedding.  Miss Cross was generous with the
car; she was sure that she would be allowed to borrow it since it would
be half-term and there would be very few people remaining at school.

On her next day off she took herself into Bath; a suitable outfit was
essential.  All her summer dresses she had had for several years, and
Rodney would recognise any of them.

Something simple and cheap in a silvery-green, which wouldn't clash
with her hair and her pansy eyes, would do nicely.

She found what she wanted after a long search.  A plain, delicate green
sheath with short sleeves and a modest neckline.  Its fabric looked
like linen although it was nothing of the sort.  It was one of dozens
on a rail in British Home Stores, but she guessed that the guests at
Rodney's wedding would hardly shop there and wouldn't recognise it for
what it was.  She had her Italian sandals from better days, and a pair
of good stone-coloured gloves.  It was just a question of a hat.

She saw several that she liked, but their prices were well beyond her
purse.  Getting tired and cross, she finally found what she wanted in a
department store--a perfectly plain wide-brimmed straw which she bore
back to the haberdashery department so that she might match up a ribbon
with the dress.  The ribbon was expensive, but it transformed the hat
and matched the dress exactly.  She spent the rest of her day off tying
it around the hat, leaving a large silky bow at the back.  It might not
be a model hat but it gave a very good imitation of one.

Half-term came and the school emptied for four days.  Olivia, plaiting
Nel's hair and making sure that her school hat was at the correct
angle, was touched when the child said, "I wish you were coming to
Granny's with me, Olivia."

"Well, that would be fun, my dear, but you'll have a lovely time with
your granny.  I expect she's got all kinds of treats waiting for
you."

Nel nodded.

"Do you ever have treats?"  she wanted to know.

"I'm going to a wedding the day after tomorrow, and I've got a new
hat."

"Not your wedding?"  asked Nel anxiously.

"No, my dear.  Now off with you.  Miss Cross wants you all to be in the
hall by ten o'clock."

The place was very empty without the children.  The rest of the day was
spent clearing up after the last of them had gone and putting
everything ready for their return.  The next day, with time to herself
and only a handful of the staff still there, Olivia took herself off
for a long walk and then spent plenty of time washing her hair and
doing her nails.  Miss Cross had given her permission to take the car
and everything was arranged.  She went into the garden behind the
annexe, her hair still damp and hanging down her back, only to be
called back indoors because she was wanted on the phone.

Mr.  van der Eisler's "Hello, Olivia' was uttered in a voice of casual
calm.

"Oh, it's you..."

"Indeed, it is I. Did I not say that I would telephone?"

"Well, yes, you did.  Only it's tomorrow--I thought you'd forgotten."

"Certainly not.  Now, let us see.  We need to be at the church fifteen
minutes or so before the bride, do we not?  Fifteen minutes to drive
there, half an hour at your place for coffee and a chat.  The wedding
is at noon, is it not?  I'll be with you at eleven o'clock."

"Very well, I'll have coffee ready.  Where are you?  It sounds as
though someone's washing up."

"I've been operating; they're clearing Theatre."

She wished she could think of something else to answer.  All she said
was, "Won't you be too e^ ^ I mean, to drive down here tomorrow.
Yoh^r^rp careful?"

"I ^g Mr.  van der Eisler suppressed a laugh.

"I , careful, Olivia."

^1 (,g "I expect you're busy.  Goodbye, and thank y ringing."  l!  t^
She went back to her room and dried he^ telling herself sternly not to
get too excited, K'1^ only doing what he had promised to do.  It wa^ ^g
of him.  He had guessed that to go alone to Roq ^ly wedding would have
been humiliating for her ^ ^y'g refuse would have been even worse--she
'd to imagine the wagging tongues.  ^u^

Mr.  van der Eisler went home to his dinner and went back to the
hospital again to check ^ he^ patient's condition and talk to his
registrar, k hA very late by the time he went to his bed an<l ^ then he
lay for a time thinking about Olivia.

^

She was doing the same thing but since sh^ sleepy her thoughts were
muddled and soo^ ^ solved in sleep, and in the light of morning sL ^
missed them; there was too much to do.

She had her breakfast, tidied the little living room, laid a tray for
coffee and put everything ready to make sandwiches before going to
dress.  She ri to \

"No, my dear.  Now off with you.  Miss Cross wants you all to be in the
hall by ten o'clock."

The place was very empty without the children.  The rest of the day was
spent clearing up after the last of them had gone and putting
everything ready for their return.  The next day, with time to herself
and only a handful of the staff still there, Olivia took herself off
for a long walk and then spent plenty of time washing her hair and
doing her nails.  Miss Cross had given her permission to take the car
and everything was arranged.  She went into the garden behind the
annexe, her hair still damp and hanging down her back, only to be
called back indoors because she was wanted on the phone.

Mr.  van der Eisler's "Hello, Olivia' was uttered in a voice of casual
calm.

"Oh, it's you..."

"Indeed, it is I. Did I not say that I would telephone?"

"Well, yes, you did.  Only it's tomorrow--I thought you'd forgotten."

"Certainly not.  Now, let us see.  We need to be at the church fifteen
minutes or so before the bride, do we not?  Fifteen minutes to drive
there, half an hour at your place for coffee and a chat.  The wedding
is at noon, is it not?  I'll be with you at eleven o'clock."

"Very well, I'll have coffee ready.  Where are you?  It sounds as
though someone's washing up."

"I've been operating; they're clearing Theatre."

She wished she could think of something clever in answer.

All she said was, "Won't you be too tired?  I mean, to drive down here
tomorrow.  You'll be careful?"

Mr.  van der Eisler suppressed a laugh.

"I will be careful, Olivia."

"I expect you're busy.  Goodbye, and thank you for ringing."

She went back to her room and dried her hair, telling herself sternly
not to get too excited, he was only doing what he had promised to do.
It was kind of him.  He had guessed that to go alone to Rodney's
wedding would have been humiliating for her and to refuse would have
been even worse--she could imagine the wagging tongues.  Mr.  van der
Eisler went home to his dinner and then went back to the hospital again
to check on his patient's condition and talk to his registrar.  It was
very late by the time he went to his bed and even then he lay for a
time thinking about Olivia.

She was doing the same thing but since she was sleepy her thoughts were
muddled and soon dissolved in sleep, and in the light of morning she
dismissed them; there was too much to do.

She had her breakfast, tidied the little living-room, laid a tray for
coffee and put everything ready to make sandwiches before going to
dress.  She didn't look too bad, she conceded, peering at her person in
the spotty looking-glass behind the shower-room door.  The dress would
pass muster since her shoes and gloves and clutch bag were expensive,
treasured leftovers from more prosperous days.  The hat was a success
too.  She left it on the bed and went down stairs to put on the kettle
and cut the sandwiches.

Just in time.  The car came to a silent halt before her narrow front
door and Mr.  van der Eisler, magnificent in a morning suit, got out.

She flung open the door.

"Hello how very elegant you look..."

He took her hand.

"You've stolen my words, Olivia."  He studied her slowly.

"You look elegant.  You also look beautiful; the bride is going to have
difficulty in capturing everyone's attention once you get there."

She went pink.

"You're joking I hope so, it's the bride's day.  We'll sit at the
back..."

She led the way into the living-room, adding worriedly, "And I'm not
elegant, it's a dress from British Home Stores."  As she poured the
coffee she said, "We'll be able to slip away the moment they've left
the reception.  I expect you will want to get back to the hospital."

"I have left things in the capable hands of my registrar.

You are happy here, Olivia?  "

"Oh, yes.  Mother is coming to stay in another week or so.  Wasn't it
extraordinary that an old friend of Granny's should have written?"

"Indeed.  Fate isn't always unkind, Olivia."

"No.  Have you been in Holland recently?"

"Yes.  I came back a few days ago.  I saw Debbie recently; she has
become engaged to someone called Fred.  Her father has a job as a
part-time porter at Jerome's.  So fate has been kind to her too."

"Oh, I'm so glad.  If you see her again will you tell her how happy I
am?  I'll write once school had settled down again."

She saw him glance at his watch.

"Is it time for us to leave?  I'll get my hat."

It took a few minutes to get it perched just so on her bright head and,
although she felt fairly satisfied with the result, she felt shy as she
went downstairs again.

He was standing at the window but he turned round as she went into the
room.

"Charming.  A wedding-hat ^ar excellence."

She had been clever, he reflected.  The dress was cheap, but elegant,
the hat was no milliner's model but it had style, and her gloves and
shoes were beyond reproach.  Mr.  van der Eisler, being the man he was,
would have escorted her dressed in a sack and a man's cloth cap without
a tremor, but he was glad for her sake that she had contrived to look
so stunning.

The church, when they reached it, was already almost full and their
seats at the back gave them a good view of the congregation without
drawing attention to themselves.  Although one or two people had turned
round to look at them, recognised Olivia, studied Mr.  van der Eisler
with deep interest and whispered to their neighbours.

Rodney was standing with his best man and didn't look round, even when
the little flurry at the church door heralded the arrival of the
bride.

Olivia, whose heart was as generously large as her person, felt a pang
of concern at the sight of her.  A rather short girl and dumpy, and
decked out most unsuitably in quantities of white lace and satin.  She
had a long thin nose, too, and although her eyes were large and blue
her mouth was discontented.  On her wedding-day?  thought Olivia. 
Perhaps her shoes pinch!

She still looked discontented as she and Rodney came down the aisle
later, but Rodney looked pleased with himself, smiling and nodding to
his friends.  At the sight of Olivia his smile faltered for a moment,
and then he grinned and winked before leading his bride out into the
churchyard for the photographs.

The reception was at the bride's home, with a marquee on the lawn
behind the solid redbrick residence.  Rodney, decided Olivia, getting
out of the car, had done well for himself.

Guests were arriving all the time and as a car drew up to park beside
them a woman of Olivia's age poked her head out of its window.

"Olivia, my dear girl--someone said you were in church.  Such a
surprise, we all thought that you and Rodney--' She broke off as Mr.
van der Eisler joined Olivia.

Sarah Dowling had never been one of Olivia's friends but an
acquaintance merely, living some miles away from her home and
encountered only at dances in other people's houses.

"Hello, Sarah," she smiled, from under the brim of her hat.

"Isn't it a lovely day for a wedding?  Of course we had to come to the
wedding--Rodney and I are such old friends..."

Sarah had been taking stock of Mr.  van der Eisler.

"Is this--are you...?"

He smiled charmingly.

"Haso van der Eisler, and yes, we are."

Olivia went a becoming pink.

"Oughtn't we to go in?"  She didn't look at him as they joined the file
of guests greeting the bride and groom.

Olivia shook hands with Rodney's father and mother, introduced Mr.  van
der Eisler, and found herself face to face with Rodney.

"Olivia, old girl.  So glad you could come and you've brought...?"

"Haso van der Eisler," said Olivia calmly, and turned to shake hands
with the bride.  Murmuring the usual compliments, she heard Rodney.

"You'll be the next man to get caught, I suppose.  We shall expect to
come to the wedding, you know," he said pompously.

She was rather surprised at the number of people who remembered
her--mostly chance acquaintances whom she had met when staying with her
grandmother, none of them friends.

They all stayed to gossip and eye Mr.  van der Eisler, who bore their
scrutiny with bland politeness.  Olivia was sure that he was finding
the whole affair tiresome and heaved a sigh of thankfulness when Rodney
and his bride went away to change and presently were seen off with rose
petals and confetti.

"Now we can go," said Olivia, and made her adieux with a serenity she
didn't feel, listening to Mr.  van der Eisler echoing her with
impeccable manners.  It took them some time to get to the car, for they
were stopped by several people eager to discover more about her and her
companion, but she fobbed them off politely and with laughing vagueness
while he stood silently beside her.

She was feeling cross by the time she reached the car, and he settled
her into the front seat, got in beside her, and drove off.

"Well, I'm glad that's over," she said snappily.

"I hope you weren't too bored.  I hate weddings...!"

"A nice cup of tea," he said, in a voice to soothe the most
recalcitrant child.

"There is a tea-room in Bradford-on-Avon, but I suspect that other
guests will have the same idea as we have.  We'll go on to
Monkton--there's a cottage tea-room there.  What an awkward time to
have a wedding--one is scarcely sustained by vol-au-vents and things on
biscuits and, one must admit, indifferent champagne."

"Tea would be nice."  She peeped at him; his face was reassuringly
calm.

"Thank you for being so nice--having to listen to all that nonsense."

"About you and Rodney?  Well, now they will have something to ponder
over, won't they?"

"I did try not to give the impression that we-you..."

"You dealt with everyone beautifully, and I must own that your hat was
easily the most eye-catching there."

"Really?"  She wasn't cross any more.

"I bought it at a department store and tied a bit of ribbon round
it."

He laughed at that and after a moment she laughed with him.

"I don't know why I tell you things."

"It's easy to talk to some people and not to others," was all he said,
then added, "Ah, this is where we turn off for Monkton."

The tea-room was the front room of a small cottage.  The ceiling was so
low that Mr.  van der Eisler had to bow his handsome head and the small
tables were too close together for a private conversation.  But, since
he seemed to have no wish to talk about themselves, that didn't matter.
They ate scones and jam and cream, sponge cake filled with strawberry
jam and generous slabs of fruit cake, and the teapot was vast and
filled with a strong brew.

"This is lovely," said Olivia, kicking off her shoes under the table
and biting into a scone.

"Actually the nicest part of the whole day."

She licked jam off a finger and smiled at him from under the hat.

Only it didn't last long.  In no time at all they were back in the car
and driving to the school.

"You wouldn't like to come in?"  she asked tentatively.

"Yes, I would, but I cannot--I have an engagement this evening in
town."

A remark which instantly put her on the defensive.

"Oh--I didn't know--if you had told me I could have returned straight
here."

He had got out of the car to open her door and stood with her by the
open door.

"A delightful day, Olivia, and now you can consign Rodney to the
past."

"I'd already done that..."

"And have you plans for the future?"

She shook her head.

"I am content with the present."

He took the hat off her head and bent to kiss her cheek.

"Give my love to Nel when you see her.  Goodbye, Olivia."

She stood there watching him drive away, feeling lonely.

CHAPTER FOUR

the loneliness didn't last, of course; there was too much to do before
the children came back for the second half of the term, and once they
were back life became busier than ever.

Olivia threw herself into her daily chores with enthusiasm, and only in
the evenings, when she was on her own in the annexe, did she admit to
loneliness.

It was fortunate that her mother was coming to stay for a week or ten
days and, over and above that, two expeditions were planned for the
pupils before the school broke up for the summer holidays.  A trip to
Cheddar Gorge and a second one to the Roman baths in Bath.  Olivia was
to go with the children on both occasions, as assistant to Miss Cutts,
the history teacher--a stern lady, an excellent instructor, but given
to a sharpness of tone which made her unpopular with the children.  She
was unpopular with Olivia too, who had been told off on several
occasions and hadn't dared to answer back--it might have meant her job.
Her mother arrived on a Sunday evening and since Olivia was free she
had been able to have supper ready and her small bedroom bright with
flowers.

"Very nice," pronounced Mrs.  Harding.

"What a dear little place and just for you too.  I don't suppose I
shall see much of you, dear?"

"I get a few hours off each day and a free day once a week.

I thought we might go up to Bath one day-there's a good bus
service--and then if you want to go there on your own you'll know the
way.  " Olivia arranged the cold supper on a small table under the
window.

"I have to have my midday dinner in school with the children, so if you
won't mind, would you get your lunch?  I'll be over most days after
games and we can have tea together, then I'm free again after the
children--the smallest ones--are in bed;

that's at half-past seven.  The evenings are light so we can go for a
walk then if you like, and have supper together.  "

She paused.

"I hope you won't be bored, Mother?"

"My dear, you have no idea how delightful this is going to be--your
grandmother has been most generous in giving us a home but I feel that
we are outstaying our welcome."

"In other words.  Mother dear.  Granny is behaving like an old
tyrant."

"Probably I shall be the same when I'm her age."

"Mother, you have no idea how to be a tyrant.  I do hope that Miss
Cross will keep me on.  This place is small but we could make it very
comfortable, and we'd be on our own during the school holidays."

Mrs.  Harding sighed.

"It sounds too good to be true, love, but I intend to enjoy every
minute of my stay."

Later, as they were washing up together, she asked, "Did you go to
Rodney's wedding?"

"Yes.  You remember Mr.  van der Eisler?  Well, he drove me over in his
car..."

"How very kind.  What was he doing here?  Visiting Nel?"

"No, he he saw the card when he brought me back after Easter and
thought it would be much nicer if I had a companion to go with."

She wrung out the dishcloth with a good deal of vigour and her mother
studied the back of her head thoughtfully.

"That was indeed most thoughtful of him.  So you enjoyed yourself?"

Olivia was uttering her own thoughts aloud.

"He looked quite magnificent in his morning dress; we went and had tea
in a village tea-room afterwards.  Why is it that wedding breakfasts
aren't anything of the kind?  Little bits and pieces and not nearly
enough to go round."

Mrs.  Harding wisely decided not to pursue the interesting subject of
Mr.  van der Eisler.

"Was it an elegant affair?  Did the bride look pretty?"

"Lots of lace and satin.  I expect Rodney thought that she looked
lovely."  She turned round to look at her mother.

"That sounds horrid.  I dare say she's a very nice girl and I don't
mind him marrying in the least.  Funny, isn't it?  When I thought I was
in love with him."

"Only because he was part of your life before your father died,
love."

"Yes, I realise that now.  In future I shall concentrate on being a
career girl."

Her mother's murmured reply could have been anything.

They had a delightful two weeks together.  Mrs.  Harding, freed from
her mother's petty tyrany, became a cheerful housewife again, going to
the village to shop, cooking delicious suppers for Olivia and taking
herself off to Bath to look at the shops, and on Olivia's day off they
went together to explore the delightful city.  Waving her mother
goodbye, Olivia vowed that, even if Miss Cross decided not to keep her
on, she would find a job well away from London, where her mother could
live with her.

"A housekeeper or something," muttered Olivia, eating a solitary
supper, 'there must be heaps to choose from, and at least I should get
a good reference from Miss Cross.  "

In two days' time two coach loads of children were to go to Cheddar
Gorge, and Olivia was to go with them.  Her task would be to attend to
those who felt queasy, restrain the more lively and hand out the lunch
packets under the stern eye of Miss Cutts, who would be travelling in
the first coach with her; the second coach would contain the matron and
Miss Ross--Matron and Miss Cutts didn't get on and had no hesitation in
rearranging matters to suit themselves.

Cheddar was a mere twenty miles or so and the journey was largely taken
up with Miss Cutts' dry- as-dust lectures about the various ancient
buildings they passed.  Olivia, listening with half an ear, was aware
that the small girls perched on either side of her weren't listening
either--and really, why should they?  She reflected, I shan't allow my
daughters to be bothered with ancient monuments until they are at least
ten years old.  It would be different with boys, of course, they would
want to know everything like that, and they would be brilliantly clever
and grow up to be fine men like--well, like Mr.  van der Eisler.  It
was a good thing perhaps that Miss Cutts' voice cut through her
daydreaming.

"Miss Harding, are you aware that Amelia is feeling sick?  Be good
enough to attend to her at once."

Which kept Olivia busy until they reached the gorge and presently
Gough's Cave, where the children were to be taken on a guided tour.
Olivia found Nel beside her.

"I don't like caves," she whispered.

Nor did Olivia, but in the face of Miss Cutts' enthusiasm nothing much
could be done about that.

"We'll hold hands," she promised.

"I think it may be rather interesting.

Stalactites and stalagmites and flints and things.  "

"Are they alive?"  Nel wanted to know.

"No, dear---they're rock or something.  You'll see..."

The tour seemed to go on forever.  Long before they regained the
entrance Olivia's hands and arms had been clutched by small nervous
fingers, but it was amazing how soon the more timid recovered over
their picnic lunch.

An instructive walk followed and Olivia, detailed to walk at the back
so that she could keep an eye on the small children, allowed her
thoughts to wander once more.  It was a pleasant day, warm and sunny
with a light breeze, and this, she told herself, was bliss compared
with Sylvester Crescent and the hospital.  The thought of which
reminded her of Mr.  van der Eisler once again.  I wonder what he's
doing?  she reflected, and started on a series of imagined situations
of a highly colourful nature--operating in an atmosphere of high drama,
sitting at a magnificent oak desk in a luxurious consulting-room
advising some

V.

I.

P, driving his beautiful motor car at a hundred miles an hour to save
someone's life.

He was doing none of these things; he was sitting behind a desk in a
rather poky consulting-room in the outpatients department of a large
Amsterdam hospital.  He was hot and tired and rather hungry, since he
had chosen to miss his lunch and start his clinic early because he had
promised Rita to take her out that evening.  She had phoned him that
morning, saying that she wanted to talk to him about Nel, and he had
suggested dinner.  Now he wished that she hadn't accepted so eagerly,
although he had to admit that anything to do with Nel mustn't be
overlooked.  He had tried to persuade Rita to make her home in England
again, but in this she was adamant, being content to have Nel to live
with her during the school holidays.

"After all," she had reminded him in her gentle voice, 'her grandmother
lives near the school and Nel loves her dearly, and if she came here to
live with me she would be so lonely.

I'm away all day and I love my job; I simply can't give it up.  " She
had added wistfully, " Of course if I should meet a man who would
understand this and offer me the kind of life I had before Rob died,
someone who could love Nel too.  "

She had allowed her words to fade and then had smiled at him.

"What a good thing that I have you to advise me, Haso."

The clinic ended, and he got into his car and drove himself to his
home--an eighteenth-century gabled town mansion in a short row of
similar buildings facing a narrow gracht leading from the
Prinsengracht.  It was very quiet there, a backwater in the bustling
city, with trees bordering the water and a street of bricks.  He parked
his car, mounted the double steps to his front door, and let himself
in.

The hall was narrow, with panelled walls and a high plaster ceiling.
There were doors on either side and a staircase, its wooden treads worn
with age, rose halfway down the hall, curving away to the floor
above.

He had crossed the hall and was at a door beside the staircase when a
stout man, no longer young, came through the baize door at the end of
the hall.

Mr.  van der Eisler stopped in his stride.

"Ah, Bronger, I'm late."

The door was pushed open and an Alsatian dog padded silently through.

"I'll take Achilles for a quick run before I go out."  He laid a hand
on the dog's great head.

"I could do with some fresh air myself."

"You'll be late back.  Professor?"

"I hope not.  Ask Ofke to leave some coffee on the stove for me, will
you?"

He left the house again very shortly, the dog loping silently beside
him.  The streets were quiet in this part of the city and there was a
small park nearby where Achilles raced around for some time while his
master paced along its paths.  Presently he whistled to the dog and
they walked briskly back to his home and went, the pair of them, into
the study, before Mr.  van der Eisler took himself upstairs to change
for the evening.

Achilles was waiting for him in the hall when he went downstairs
again.

"Sorry, boy, I have to go out,"

Mr.  Van der Eisler told the dog gently and gave him a pat.

"And for some reason I have no wish to go."

He got into his car once more.  He had no wish to spend the evening
with Rita; for a moment he allowed his thoughts to dwell on Olivia. 
Unlike Rita, whose gentle voice concealed a determination to get her
own way, Olivia would speak her mind with a disregard of female wiles,
cheerfully apologising afterwards if need be.  Rita, he reflected,
never apologised, because she never felt herself to be at fault.

He stopped before a block of flats in the more modern part of the city,
got out and rang the bell of her flat.

"Haso?"  Her voice was charming over the intercom.

"Come on up..."

"We're already a little late.  I've a table at de Kersentuin."

Rita joined him after about five minutes.  She looked charming; she had
an excellent clothes-sense, and the money to spend on a good
hairdresser and beauty parlour.  Mr.  van der Eisler helped her into
the car and wondered why she didn't stir his interest in the slightest.
They had got on well when Rob was alive, but he had never thought of
her as anyone other than his friend's wife.

They had seen quite a lot of each other when his friend was alive and
Nel was a baby, and since his death, naturally enough, they met
frequently since he was one of his trustees.  He had been surprised at
how quickly she had returned to work as a PA to an executive in a big
oil firm and how easily she had agreed to Nel going to boarding-school
in England.  True, Rob had wanted that, but he had envisaged Rita going
to live in England too.  After all, there was plenty of money.  He
listened to Rita's amusing chatter, making all the right remarks, and
presently, as they sat over dinner, he asked her why she had wanted to
see him.

She laughed.

"Oh, nothing in particular, Haso.  I suppose I was feeling lonely--you
know how it is?  Don't you ever wish to have a companion?  A wife to
come home to?"

"I'm poor company when I get home in the evening."  He smiled at her.

"Are you worried about Nel?"

"Nel?  Why should I be worried about her?  Her grandmother's only a few
miles away from the school; she seems very happy.

I had a letter from her this morning.  They were taken off to Cheddar
Gorge--for a treat.  She didn't like the caves very much but there was
someone there--one of the teachers, I presume--who didn't like them
either, and they held hands.

Silly child.  "

"A dislike of being in an enclosed place is very common.

Luckily there was someone with whom she could share her fear.  "

That someone would have been Olivia, he was as sure of that as though
Rita had mentioned her by name.  He frowned--he really must stop
thinking about the girl, she had nothing to do with his life.  He said
easily, "As long as you are quite happy about Nel.  She seemed
perfectly content when I took her back to school."

She handed him his coffee-cup and he went on, "Have you any plans for
the summer holidays?  I suppose she'll stay for a while with Lady
Brennon?"

"For as long as she likes.  She can come over here, of course, but I
don't want to take too much time off--I've been asked to go down to the
South of France for the whole of August with the van Fonders."

"You don't want to take Nel with you?"

"There won't be any other children there--she would be bored, my dear."
She smiled her charming smile.

"If you're in England perhaps you would collect her from school and
take her to Lady Brennon's--I'm sure you want to see her again."

Mr.  van der Eisler agreed; he would like to see Olivia too, although
he didn't allow himself to examine this wish.

"I think it would be a good thing if Nel were to get to know you really
well," went on Rita.  She met his eyes across the table.

"She does need a father."

He said at his most bland, "Oh, are you planning to marry again?  Do I
know him?"

Rita gave a little laugh to hide her annoyance.  To marry Haso would
settle all her problems--Nel could stay at school and, since Haso was
wrapped up in his work and divided his time between the two countries,
she would be free to live as she wished.  He was a wealthy man,
well-known in his profession, and he came from an old and respected
family.  Besides, he was blessed with good looks.  She had set her
heart on marrying him and had felt sure of getting her way.  She would
have to be more careful.  At least she saw him frequently and there was
always the excuse that she needed to know something about Nel.  Perhaps
she should go over to Bath and collect the child at the end of term? 
But if she suggested that, probably he would assume that he needn't go
too.

"No, of course not.  I go out a good deal, you know that, but there is
no one--I still miss Rob."

She sounded sincere and Mr.  van der Eisler said kindly, "He wouldn't
want you to stay on your own for the rest of your life, Rita.  He loved
you too much for that."

She had the good sense not to say any more but began to talk about Nel,
a subject she knew always interested him.

It wanted a scant three weeks until the end of term, and the whole
school was occupied with preparations of importance for the last
day--prize-giving, the school choir rendering suitable songs and the
most senior of the girls, due to leave and go on to a variety of
private schools, performing a play written by themselves; Olivia spent
her days hearing lines, helping to make the costumes and taking prep in
the evenings, so that the class mistresses could meet to discuss who
should have the prizes.  She had no time to herself but she didn't
mind;

life was interesting, the weather was splendid and Miss Cross had told
her that she might return for the autumn term.

"Although I must warn you," she had added, 'that since you have no
qualifications the Board of Governors may wish to replace you after
Christmas--even a diploma in music or art would be sufficient.  It adds
tone to the prospectus, and the parents expect highly qualified staff
in a school such as this one.  " She had sighed.

"It is a pity, Olivia, for you are a very useful member.  Perhaps I
shall be able to persuade them to accept you when they meet in
January."

Olivia thought it unlikely, but it was of no use worrying about it now.
She had a job until Christmas, and only then would she worry.  In the
meantime, with certain reservations, she was happy.

On top of everything else there was the visit to the Roman
baths--purely instructive; Miss Cutts had made that clear.

Olivia found herself on the back seat of the school bus once more,
listening to Miss Cutts' resonant voice recounting Bath's history.  A
pity they weren't to be allowed to see the Assembly Rooms and have tea
there, reflected Olivia, longing for a cup of tea as they all got out
and trooped at a snail's pace from one end to the other of the baths,
stopping to admire the statue of the Emperor Hadrian overlooking the
largest of the baths and listening to Miss Cutts reeling off the
various measurements of the baths, expounding the beauties of the
mosaic flooring, explaining how a Roman plumber had planned and fitted
the lead conduit which supplied the water to the largest bath.  The
children listened obediently, but she could see that they had their
minds on other things; the excitement of the end of term was too near
to be ignored now.

That wasn't the end to the day either.  It was Olivia's bedtime duty,
which meant that after a hasty cup of tea she had to start collecting
the smallest girls and get them bathed and into bed.  They chattered
like magpies, full of the things that they would do when they got home
and speculation as to who would get the prizes.  It was Nel who said
wistfully to Olivia as she brushed her hair, "I'm sure Mummy will come
this time--I might get a prize and then she'll be proud of me."

"I'm quite sure she's proud of you whether you get a prize or not,"
Olivia assured her.

"And of course she'll come.  The last day of the summer term is a very
important one, isn't it?  Are you looking forward to singing in the
choir?"

Whereupon Nel burst into song and had to be shushed, popped into bed
and tucked up.

Olivia was up early on the last day.  So was every one else, anxious to
make the day a success.  The first parents would arrive mid-morning and
by noon, when a buffet lunch was to be served, they should all have
arrived ready to take their seats in the nearby assembly hall for the
entertainments and the prize- giving.

Everyone was drifting towards the dining-room when Olivia, rounding up
stragglers, felt an urgent tug on her sleeve.

Nel lifted a troubled face to hers.

"My Mummy hasn't come," she whispered.

"She said she would--she promised she'd come with Granny-Granny isn't
here either."

Olivia put an arm round the small shoulders.

"There's still plenty of time, Nel--perhaps they've got held up in the
traffic.  I tell you what we'll do, we'll hurry to the door and make
sure they aren't there..."

They reached the entrance as the Bentley came to a soundless halt and
Mr.  van der Eisler got out, opened the door and helped Lady Brennon
out.

"They've come," shrieked Nel, and flung herself at her grandmother as
Olivia beat a hasty retreat.  Not fast enough, however.

"Don't go."  Mr.  van der Eisler spoke quietly as he turned to receive
Nel's onslaught upon his vast person.

"Where's Mummy?"  Nel asked suddenly.

Lady Brennon gave him a speaking look, took a few steps towards Olivia
and sighed, "Oh, dear..."

"She sends her dearest love," said Mr.  van der Eisler cheerfully, 'but
she just couldn't come--she has to work, you know, and she can't take a
holiday whenever she wants one.  "

Nel banged her small fist against his waistcoat.

"She doesn't have to work and she's got lots of money and she promised.
You mustn't break a promise--Olivia told me so."

The child was near to tears.

"And it's not a holiday, it's me!"

"Ah, but I'm going to take you over to Holland in a week or two.  Mummy
will make sure to have a holiday then, and we'll all go out together,
and we'll take Achilles with us--and Ofke's cat has had kittens.  I'm
sure she won't mind if you have one to keep."

"Mummy doesn't like cats..."

"In that case, I'll have him, shall I?  He'll be company for
Achilles."

He glanced at Olivia, "Don't you think that's a good idea, Olivia?"

"Quite splendid.  What fun you'll have, Nel.  Now, would you like to
take your grandmother to the dining-room?  I'm sure you'd all like
lunch."

"You will come with us, Olivia?"  asked Lady Brennon.

Olivia looked shocked.  The?  Heavens, no!  I'm helping with the
serving. " She suddenly wanted to get away from Mr.  van der Eisler's
eyes.

"You'll excuse me?"

She made off at a great pace and in the dining room was accosted by
Miss Ross.

"There you are-where have you been?

Cook has cut her hand and can't carve and we're running out of beef and
ham.  Go to the kitchen and slice some more as fast as you can.  " She
turned away to serve a parent and Olivia slid away kitchen wards Mr.
van der Eisler, escorting his companions to a table near the buffet,
watched her go.

Unhurriedly he collected food and drink and brought them back to the
table.

"I'll be with you in a moment," he told Lady Brennon, and wandered off
to go through the same door as Olivia.

He stood a moment in the kitchen doorway, watching her.

Carving was one of the things Olivia didn't know much about;

a small pile of uneven slices bore witness to this, but there was no
one to give her advice for Cook had retired to her room and the two
kitchen-maids had gone too.

"Allow me," said Mr.  van der Eisler, took the knife and two-pronged
fork from her, and began to carve in a manner worthy of his calling.

"You can't come in here," said Olivia when she had got back her breath,
'and you can't do that either.  "

"But I am here, Olivia, and who but I am capable of carving this ham in
the correct manner?  After all, I have learned to be handy with a
knife."

"Oh, don't be absurd..."

"Don't work yourself up, dear girl.  Take this dish of ham to the
dining-room and I'll start on the beef."

"You can't..."

"Now, now, off with you!"

So she picked up the dish of wafer-thin slices and hurried to the
dining-room, where they were snatched from her.

"And do hurry with the beef."

"Gratitude," snorted Olivia, speeding back to the kitchen.

Mr.  van der Eisler reduced the beef to a pile of evenly cut slices,
took one, and sat down on the table to eat it.

"You can't..."  began Olivia.

"That is the third time you have said that.  Run along with the beef,
there's a good girl, and then come back here."

"I..."

She caught his eye and did as she was bid, and presently returned.

"On which day do you return to Sylvester Crescent?"  he asked her.

"Oh, I have to stay for another day, to tidy up, you know, and leave
everything just so."

"I'm staying with Lady Brennon for a day or two.  I'll pick you up and
drive you back I've to be in London myself."

"Yes, but..."

"But what?  Is there some young man waiting for you?"

"A young man?  Me?  Heavens above!  I don't have time to say more than
good morning to the milkman--and there aren't any young men around."

"A pity.  Never mind.  I'll come for you about ten o'clock in the
morning.  Are you going away for your holidays?"

"No.  I--we--that is, we shall stay with Granny."

"And what will you do all day?"

She was suddenly cross.

"I don't know--I have not the least idea.  I must go."

"Run along," said Mr.  van der Eisler, and carved himself another slice
of beef.

Parents were leaving the dining-room and making their way to the
assembly hall.  Olivia began to clear the plates and glasses and
presently went round to the back of the stage to make sure that the
choir were all present and looking presentable.  The senior girls' play
was already in progress and when that was over there would be a brief
display of dancing before the choir.  She laced up shoes, tied
hair-ribbons and stilled childish nerves, and went to peep at the
audience through a spy hole in the curtain.  Lady Brennon and Mr.  van
der Eisler were sitting in the second row.  Lady Brennon was smiling
gently; her companion looked as though he might be asleep.

The play over, the dancing done to great applause, the choir was coaxed
into a semi-circle, the music mistress struck up a chord, and they were
off, speeding the boat over to Skye with tremendous verve.

Olivia, in the wings acting as prompt, thought that if Mr.  van der
Eisler had been dozing, that should have roused him nicely.

They sang a bit of Gilbert and Sullivan next, and then a rather sad
song about snow.  The choir hadn't liked it but the music mistress had
decided that they were to sing it.

They got through the first verse well enough, moaning "Oh, snow' with
enthusiasm, but somehow they lost the thread during the second and
Olivia had to do some prompting.

Several small faces turned to look at her in panic, the music mistress
thumped out the last few bars and since no one sang began on them
again.  Olivia began to sing the words very softly and in a moment a
relieved chorus of small voices took over from her.  It had been only a
slight hitch in an otherwise perfect performance and the applause was
deafening.

It was later, as the children began to leave with their parents, that
Mr.  van der Eisler went in search of Olivia.  He found her on her
hands and knees, grovelling under a schoolroom cupboard.

"I must say," he remarked pleasantly, 'that you look nice from any
angle, Olivia.  "

She rose to her splendid height, very red in the face.

"I'm looking for a lost tennis racquet.  What do you want?"

"You do not mince your words.  To remind you that I shall be waiting
for you at ten o'clock on the day after tomorrow."

He smiled and nodded and turned to go.

"You have a pretty singing voice," he observed as he left the room.

She spent the next day doing whatever she was told to do and then going
to the annexe to pack her own things.  Her thoughts were muddled.  On
the one hand she felt a pleasurable excitement at the thought of seeing
Mr. van der Eisler again, but this was strangely mitigated by her
doubts as to whether she should allow herself to be drawn into some
kind of friendship with him.  Perhaps just this once, she told herself
weakly--she wasn't likely to see much of him anyway; he had said that
he was taking Nel back to Holland with him and perhaps her mother would
bring her back next term.  Besides she had a strong suspicion that he
and Nel's mother intended to marry.

He was just being kind, she decided.  What could be more normal than to
offer a lift since they were both going to London on the same day?

The thought of Sylvester Crescent depressed her.  It would be lovely to
see her mother again but six weeks of living with Granny was
daunting.

Just before ten o'clock the next morning she locked her door, took the
key along to the school porter, and went outside.  The Bentley was
there, with Mr.  van der Eisler, his hands in his pockets, strolling
around the flowerbeds bordering the sweep.  He saw her at once, took
her case from her and put it in the boot, and then opened the car
door.

"Good morning," said Olivia pointedly.

"Don't look so cross.  Will you smile if I say good morning to you?"

She laughed.

"Don't be absurd.  I'm very grateful for this lift."

He got in beside her and drove off without any fuss.

"So am I," he told her.  A remark which left her vaguely puzzled.

"I expect Nel is glad to be with her Granny?"

"She is always happy there.  I'll take her over to Holland in a week's
time when I go back."

"I'm sorry she was disappointed about her mother, but she soon cheered
up, didn't she?"

He grunted noncommittally he had spent a good deal of time trying to
smooth over the fact of Nel's mother not coming to the school, and it
had been hard work.

The grunt didn't sound very promising.  Olivia stayed silent, admiring
the scenery to herself and watching his hands on the wheel.  They were
large, blunt-fingered and beautifully kept.

They had driven for some time in a silence which was strangely
companionable when he said, "How about coffee?  I don't know about you,
but I was up early; Nel and I took the dogs out."

"You like dogs?"

"Yes.  My own dog, Achilles, is an Alsatian; I've had him since he was
a very small puppy.  I should like to have a dog here, but I don't have
much time to myself when I'm in England.  My housekeeper has a cat--you
like cats?"

"Yes.  We had two, and an Old English Sheepdog.  Our cook took the cats
and Shep died just before we had to leave."

After a few moments of silence she ventured.

"Your housekeeper's cat, does it have a name?"

"Bertie."  He laughed suddenly.

"You and I don't need to make small-talk, Olivia.  Here's a place where
we can have coffee."

It was a pleasant wayside inn, and they sat outside drinking their
coffee in the sun.

"Tell me, what do you intend to do, Olivia?"  asked Mr.  van der
Eisler.

"You must have some plans."

"What is the use of plans?  I hope that Miss Cross will keep me on at
the school and I can have Mother to stay each term.

She isn't happy with Granny, you know.  I have thought that I might
study for something in my spare time.  It would have to be something
where I could earn a living and have a home too.  Am I too old to be a
nurse?  "

"No, but that is three years in hospital, and even when you have
trained the chance of your getting a post where you could live outside
hospital on your salary wouldn't be too great.  I do not wish to bring
up the question of Rodney, but there must have been other men in your
life, Olivia."

"Oh, yes.  I had a lot of friends, and I suppose if Father hadn't died
and left us awkwardly placed I

might have married one of them.  Although now I'm older I don't think I
should have liked that.  "

"No, I don't think you would.  Wait for the right man, Olivia."

"Oh, I will," she assured him.

It was when they were back in the car, she sitting silently beside him,
that she realised that there was no need for her to wait for the right
man.  He was here already, sitting beside her.

CHAPTER FIVE

mr van der eisler began to talk presently about nothing much, and it
served to quieten her jangling nerves.  She needed to go somewhere very
quiet so that she could think.

She mustn't see him again, of course, and she must stop thinking about
him, and the sooner the better.  Her thoughts were interrupted by his
casual, "Becky will have lunch ready.  I hope you will lunch, with me,
Olivia?  I'll take you home afterwards."

So much for her good resolutions.  They flew out of the window and she
said happily, "Oh!  Thank you, that would be nice."  Then she added,
"But isn't it interfering with your day?"

"Not in the least.  I'm free for the rest of the day."  His voice held
just the right note of casualness.  He lapsed into silence again and
she thought uneasily that he might wonder why she didn't have something
to say for herself.  The weather seemed a safe topic, and the
countryside, so she enlarged upon these two items at some length and
he, aware that for some reason she was feeling awkward with him,
allowed her to chatter in a manner quite unlike her usual self, making
suitable replies in his quiet voice so that gradually she regained her
normal composed manner and by the time he stopped before his house she
had herself nicely in hand.

He had told Becky that he was bringing a guest to lunch and she had the
door open as they reached it, a wide smile on her elderly face while
she summed up Olivia with sharp eyes.

"This is Becky, my housekeeper," he said, and "Becky, this is Miss
Olivia Harding.  She works at Nel's school."

"Now isn't that nice," declared Becky.

"I dare say Miss Harding would like to tidy herself before lunch.  I'll
take her to the cloakroom while you look through your post, Mr.
Haso."

Olivia, recognising the gentle tyranny of the old family retainer,
followed Becky.

Mr.  van der Eisler was waiting for her in his sitting-room, standing
by the open door leading to a small but charming garden.  It was a
pleasant room, furnished with a nice mixture of antiques and
comfortable modern chairs, and wore the air of being well lived-in. 
Bertie, Becky's cat, sat washing himself on a small side-table and gave
her a searching glance as she went in before continuing his toilet, and
Mr.  van der Eisler put down the letters in his hand and invited her to
sit by the window.

"There's time for a drink before lunch.  Sherry?  Or perhaps you would
prefer something else?"

"Sherry, please."  She looked around her; the walls were almost covered
by paintings--portraits as far as she could see.  They sat making
small-talk for a few minutes until she asked, "May I look at your
paintings?  Are they your family?"

"Yes, the English side of it.  My grandmother was English and left me
this flat and its contents.  I came here a good deal as a boy, and
later when I was at Cambridge, and I feel very much at home."

She nodded.

"I'm sure that you must, as you were happy here."  She laughed
suddenly.

"And to think that Debbie used to worry about you being lonely in
London."

"A kind-hearted child.  Did you worry too, Olivia?"

"No--well, not worry exactly.  I did wonder where you lived in London."
She added hastily, "Just idle curiosity, you know."

It wasn't too bad, she reflected, once she had gone into the room and
seen him standing there.  She had spent her few minutes in the
cloakroom giving herself good advice and so far she was managing pretty
well. True, the wish to fling herself at him and throw her arms round
his neck was a strong one, but she prided herself on her good sense. 
She began to wander round the room, looking at each portrait--elderly
gentlemen with side-whiskers, younger men with determined chins resting
on snowy stocks, small, fragile-looking ladies, and several miniatures
of children's heads.  There were one or two portraits of younger women
too, with beautiful faces and laughing eyes, and she paused before them
and found him beside her.

"My grandmother and my mother.  They were so unlike the earlier ladies
in the family.  As tall and generously built as you, and as
beautiful."

Olivia said, "Oh," faintly, and wondered if 'generously built' meant
fat.  The women in the portraits didn't look fat, just well-covered. 
She gave her own person a surreptitious glance, and went scarlet when
he said blandly, "No, I don't mean fat, Olivia.  You need have no fears
about that.  You are exactly the right shape for a woman."

She didn't look at him.  Really, the conversation was straying from the
coolly friendly path she had intended to tread.  She said, politely
cool even though her face was still pink, "You have some charming
ancestors."

"You should see the Dutch side of the family; they must have spent half
their lives being painted."

"Were they doctors too?"

"Almost to a man."

She faced him then.

"You must have a great deal of wisdom with such a heritage."

Just for a moment the heavy lids lifted to show the clear blue of his
eyes.

"What a very perceptive thing to say, Olivia.  I do my best to carry on
the family tradition."  He glanced round as the door opened and Becky
came in.

"There's that naughty Bertie on your table again,

and his dinner waiting for him too.  If you've had your drinks, I'll
serve the soup, Mr.  Haso.  "

The dining-room was on the other side of the hall.  Not a large room,
it held a circular mahogany table with ribbon-back chairs around it, a
side-table holding some massive silver pieces, and a Regency fireplace
with a carriage clock on the mantel above it.  The curtains were a rich
plum velvet and the floor polished wood.  A lovely room in which to
have a meal, reflected Olivia, sitting down and accepting the soup
Becky had set before her.

It was a good soup--watercress with a swirl of cream in its centre--and
that was followed by lamb cutlets, new potatoes, and peas with baby
carrots.  The trifle which followed was perfection itself.  Olivia, who
had a good appetite and never pretended otherwise, ate every morsel.

They went back to the sitting-room for their coffee and this time she
took more leisurely stock of her surroundings.  The colour scheme
wasn't so obvious here--the carpet on the polished wood floor was in
muted blues and dull greens and pinks, and the long curtains at the
windows at both ends of the room were old rose brocade, while the
chairs were upholstered in the same dim colours as the carpet.  There
was a good deal of yew and apple-wood, and a splendid bow-fronted
display cabinet with some intricate marquetry.

"But of course you'll have a study," observed Olivia, speaking her
thoughts out loud.

"Yes, and there is another small room.  I don't use it but Becky tells
me that my grandmother used it as her own private place, where she
could sew and read and so on.  It is quite a big flat.  Becky has her
own flatlet, and there are three bedrooms and bathrooms as well as the
kitchen."

"Did your grandmother like living in Holland?"

"Oh, yes.  You see, she and my grandfather were a devoted pair; she
would have lived in the middle of the desert if need be, provided she
was with him.  They came over here a good deal, of course, bringing the
children with them, and later their grandchildren too."

He watched the beautiful face opposite him, alight with interest, and
wondered silently why he was telling her all this.  Perhaps something
of his thoughts showed in his usually impassive face, for Olivia said
in a polite visitor's voice, "How interesting--to have two countries, I
mean."  She put her cup down.

"I expect you have things to do--I've enjoyed my lunch, thank you, and
it was so kind of you to drive me back.  I think I should go."

He made no demure and after a suitable chat with Becky she followed him
out to the car and was driven to Sylvester Crescent.  It looked
unwelcoming, with all the net curtains covering the windows and the
doors tightly shut.  Outside her grandmother's flat Olivia said, "Would
you like to come in?"

and expected him to say no.

Instead, he said at once, "I should like to meet your mother again,"
and got out to help her out of the car and get her luggage from the
boot.

By the time they reached the door her mother had it open, smiling
widely.

"Darling, how lovely to see you--it seems such ages."  She kissed
Olivia and held out a hand to Mr.  van der Eisler.

"Do please come in, Mr.  van der Eisler.  You brought Olivia back--how
kind.  Have you had lunch?  Or perhaps coffee?"

"We've had lunch.  Mother, at Mr.  van der Eisler's home..."

"Then tea--it's a little early, but tea is always welcome."

, "I should love a cup," he said surprisingly, following Mrs.  Harding
into the drawing-room where Mrs.  Fitzgibbon sat in her uncomfortable
chair.

She held out a hand.

"How delightful to see you again," she said, at her most gracious.

"Do sit down and tell me what you have been doing.  I get so little
news here, chained as I am to this flat, and only my daughter for
company."  She offered an indifferent cheek for Olivia's dutiful
kiss.

"You will find it equally dull, Olivia--six weeks' holiday, I
understand.  I'm sure I don't know what you will do with yourself.
Although your mother will be glad of some help around the house, I
suppose."  She added, "Well, now you're here you might make the tea."

Olivia cooled down in the kitchen.  It was a pity that he had chosen to
come in; Granny enjoyed belittling her and usually she didn't allow it
to rile her too much, but in front of Mr.  van der Eisler.  He had no
interest in her as a woman, she was sure of that, but to be held up as
a tiresome fool by her grand mother might destroy the mild liking he
appeared to have for her.  What did it matter?  she told herself
fiercely, spooning tea into the pot.  This was the last time they would
see each other.  She had heard him tell Nel that her mother would bring
her back to school for the autumn term so obviously he had no other
plans.  Besides, that was weeks away; he would have forgotten all about
her by then.

Pouring tea and handing round digestive biscuits, she had to admit that
his considerable charm was making a good impression upon Granny, who
enlarged upon her distant aristocratic connections at some length, much
to her and her mother's discomfort.  When he got up to go at last she
offered him a hand, thanked him in a cool voice for giving her a lift,
and uttered a conventional wish as to his future wellbeing.  All
without looking any higher than the middle button of his waistcoat.

"A delightful man," observed Mrs.  Fitzgibbon.

"Such a pity that you do not attract him, Olivia.  I presume that he
intends to marry this small girl's Nel's mother?  He spoke of her."

"I've no idea," said Olivia airily, intent on pulling the wool over her
grandparent's sharp eyes.

"I don't know anything about him.  He was kind enough to give me a
lift, Granny, that is all."

She caught her mother's eye and that lady, about to say something,
obediently didn't.

Life was dull in Sylvester Crescent and, after ten days of Mrs.
Fitzgibbon's lightly veiled remarks about extra mouths to feed, Olivia
went looking for a job.  She didn't have to go far.  The Coffee-Pot
needed part-time help.  Four mornings a week, from ten o'clock until
the regular waitress came on at one o'clock.  The pay was minimal but
she could keep her tips.  Olivia went back to her grandmother's flat,
delivered her news, and listened to a harangue from her grandmother
about the humbleness of her new job.

"Honest work for an honest wage," said Olivia cheerfully.

It wasn't all bad.  True, her feet ached, and sometimes the customers
were rude, but secretly she sympathised with them, for the coffee was
abominable.  It gave her something to do, though, and put a little
money in her pocket, even after paying over a good deal of it towards
her keep.

Since her afternoons were free she took her mother out to the parks or
to window-shop, leaving her grandmother to play bridge with her few
friends.

"Your granny would be so much happier on her own," sighed her mother.

Olivia gave her parent's arm a sympathetic squeeze.

"If Miss Cross will take me on permanently next year you shall come and
live with me, and you must come and stay next term for just as long as
you would like."

"Your grandmother might need me..."

"Pooh," said Olivia strongly.

"She was very content until we went to live with her, and that's all
nonsense about her not being able to afford help in the house."

"You're quite happy, dear?"  her mother wanted to know.

"Of course I am, love.  Haven't I got everything I want--a job, money
in my pocket, a pleasant place in which to work?"

The memory of Mr.  van der Eisler made nonsense of her cheerful reply;
she thought about him all day and every day, despite the fact that she
wasn't likely to see him again.  He would be at Jerome's, she supposed,
or back in Holland.  He was in Holland, and very shortly he would
return to England bringing with him Nel and her mother.  Rita had
agreed unwillingly to go over to England and visit her mother-in-law,
but only provided that she might leave Nel with her so that she could
go to her friends in the South of France.  She had found Nel a
nuisance, although she had taken advantage of the child being there to
see as much of Haso as possible but, although he had been friendly and
ready to help in any way, he had evinced no desire to spend his free
time with her.  Absence makes the heart grow fonder, she told herself;
he would be delighted to see her again when she returned.

They were to stay for a couple of days at his flat in London so that
Rita could do some shopping, and it was Nel who gave Mr.  van der
Eisler the excuse to go and see Olivia.  He had had no intention of
going, he told himself, he found her unsettling, and his growing
interest in her had been brought about by circumstances and nothing
more.  All the same, when Nel asked him if they might go and see
Olivia, he agreed.

"We might go while your mother is shop ping," he suggested.

But Rita said at once, "Oh, but I'd love to come too such a nice girl
and so kind to Nel..."

Mrs.  Harding opened the door to them.

"Do come in."  She shook Rita's hand and smiled at them all.

"Have you come to see Olivia?  I'm afraid she's not here.  She's got a
little job down at the Coffee-Pot..."

"What could be better?"  exclaimed Rita.

"We can have our coffee there and talk to her at the same time."

"Well," said Mrs.  Harding doubtfully, 'she will probably be busy.  "

"Oh, I'm sure she will be able to find time to have a chat.

Nel's so looking forward to seeing her.  "

Mr.  van der Eisler said smoothly, "I dare say Olivia would rather we
didn't call on her while she's working

However, Rita persisted.

"We've come all this way, and Nel won't be able to see her now..."

He doubted that her concern was genuine, but undoubtedly Nel was
disappointed.  He drove them to the Coffee-Pot, parked the car and
opened the door.

Olivia had her back to them, serving coffee and buns to four people
crowded round one of the little tables.  They sat down, the three of
them, at the only empty table, and when she turned round she saw
them.

She went red and then pale, but she crossed to their table and wished
them a composed good morning, smiled at Nel, and asked them if they
would like coffee.  The look she cast at Mr.  van der Eisler was
reproachful, but it hid delight at seeing him again even if the
circumstances were hardly what she would have wished.

"Your mother told us where you were," he explained easily.

"Nel wanted to see you before she goes to stay with Lady Brennon.  You
must forgive us for taking you unawares."

He could see that she wished to go--there were other customers.

"May we have some coffee, and perhaps a milkshake for Nel?"

She went away and Rita said, "What a poky little place.  I dare say the
coffee's undrinkable.  Still, I suppose if the girl's hard up it's
better than nothing."

She gave him a narrow look as she spoke--there had been something about
the way he had looked at

Olivia which made her uneasy.  She was a beautiful girl, there was no
doubt about that, but no sparkle.  Rita, who had brought sparkling to a
fine art, did so now at Olivia, returning with their coffee, and she
could see how easily she could make Mr.  van der Eisler laugh.  The
cafe emptied momentarily, and Olivia spent a minute or two talking to
Nel before more customers arrived and she was kept busy, but when she
saw Nel's frantic waving she went back to her.

"We're going now," said Nel, 'but you will be at school, won't you? 
"

"Yes, Nel.  I'll be there."

"Such hard work it must be," said Rita.

"But anything's better than this, I should imagine.  And the coffee is
vile..."  She gave a little laugh.

"I say, do we leave a tip?"

Put in my place, thought Olivia.  Between Granny and her, Mr.  van der
Eisler must think me a complete nonentity.  She smiled serenely while
she seethed.

"Goodbye--I must go.  But it was nice seeing Nel again."

The smile took in the three of them as she turned away to take an
order.  Mr.  van der Eisler hadn't said a word.  He would very much
have liked to utter those which trembled on his tongue, but Olivia's
dignity must be preserved at all costs before a room full of strangers,
and the words he wished to utter to Rita were harsh indeed, and liable
to cause some interest in those sitting around them.  In the car he
said blandly, "Why were you rude, Rita, and unkind...?"

"Rude?  I didn't mean to be, Haso.  Oh, dear, have I upset the poor
girl?  My silly tongue, I'm so sorry."  She looked over her shoulder at
Nel.

"Darling, when you see Olivia next term, do tell her that I didn't mean
to upset her.  I was joking, but we haven't all got the same sense of
humour."

"Aren't you coming to take me back to school, Mummy?"  asked Nel.

"Sweetie, I'll try very hard to come, really I will, but if I'm
terribly busy I may not be able to.  Granny will take you back and I
really will come over at the end of term."

"Promise?"

"Promise."  She turned a smiling face to Mr.  van der Eisler's stern
profile.

"You'll bring me over, won't you, Haso?"

"That depends on where I am and what I am doing.  You can always fly to
Bristol and get a car from there."

Rita pouted charmingly.

"You know I hate travelling alone."

He said nothing, aware that in a few days' time she would fly--quite
alone--down to the South of France to join her friends.  He would have
liked to tax her with that, but Nel had to be kept happy; she was
already getting too bright, too quick not to sense her mother's
impatience with her.

He didn't Stay long at Lady Brennon's but drove back to London, wishing
that he had Olivia sitting beside him.  What on earth had possessed the
girl to work as a waitress?  Was she so desperately hard-up?  Was she
to go on taking these dead-end jobs for the rest of her life with
little or no opportunity of meeting a suitable young man who would
marry her? Heaven knew that she was beautiful enough to attract them. 
He began to turn over in his mind the various young doctors and
surgeons he knew at Jerome's, wondering how to make it possible for her
to meet them.  A fruitless task which got him nowhere.

He drove straight to the hospital and forgot her, and when he got back
to his flat, finally, there were letters to read and answer, phone
calls to make and patients' notes to study.  He ate a late supper,
clucked over by Becky, and went to bed, and during the next few busy
days spared her only the most cursory of thoughts.

He had something of a worldwide reputation in his particular field of
surgery and an urgent summons took him to Italy, so that when the time
came for Nel to return to school he was out of the country and, since
Rita was still in the South of France, Nel was taken back to school by
her grandmother.

Olivia, detailed to collect the children as they arrived, was
confronted by a tearful Nel.

"Mummy didn't come and Uncle Haso sent me a postcard with a lot of blue
sky and mountains on it.  I expect they forgot..."

Her small lip trembled and Lady Brennon said quickly, "I'm sure they
wouldn't forget, darling.  Perhaps there wasn't a seat for them on the
plane-perhaps they'll come as soon as they can.  It's holiday-time, and
everyone wants to travel..."

"The planes get so full," added Olivia, anxious to avert tears.

Nel gave her the clear look that only a child could give.

"Uncle Haso has his own plane," she said.

Olivia and Lady Brennon exchanged glances.

"Well, in that case," said Olivia briskly, 'he may even now be on his
way here.  Will you say goodbye to your granny, poppet?  Then I'll take
you up to your dormitory--most of your best friends are in it this
term.  "

Nel brightened a little.

"Oh, good, and may I come and see you, Granny, at half-term?"

"Of course, my pet, but I'll be over before then to watch your sports
day."

It wasn't until Olivia was in bed that night that she had the leisure
to think her own thoughts.  The day had been busy--the children's
trunks to unpack, tuck to be labelled and put away, the homesick to be
comforted, mislaid things to be found.  She was glad that she had been
too busy to think, she reflected, curled up in her bed at last.  Now,
tired though she was, she had to go over every word Nel and Lady
Brennon had uttered about Mr.  van der Eisler.  It was only too
apparent that he was with Rita.  And why should that upset her, she
asked herself angrily, when she had made up her mind to forget him,
never think of him again?  What business was it of hers if he was to
marry Rita?  It would be a good thing for Nel's sake; the child was
fond of him, more so than she was of her mother.  The only real
security she had was with her grandmother.  Olivia nodded off.

She woke in the night and had a nice comforting weep, and felt better
for it.  She couldn't change the way things were so she had better
accept them with a good grace and make the best of what she had--a job,
a frail security, and a roof over her head.  Who knew?  She might, any
day now, meet some man who would want to marry her.  But would she want
to marry him?

School routine took over once more.  The days followed each other with
ordered speed; they got chillier too, and as the evenings darkened she
had the task of overseeing the smaller children's leisure before their
bedtime.  There was a good deal of activity in the gym too, where those
who were taking part practised for sports day.  Olivia, Jill of all
trades and master of none, played the piano for the rhythmic exercises,
untangled the formation gymnastics when they got too involved, and
soothed bruises and bumps.

It had turned quite cold by now and half-term would follow on after
sports day.  Her mother was coming to spend two weeks with her and
since she would be free for the first week she had planned a trip to
Bath--they would lunch out and have tea in the Assembly Rooms and,
since she had had no reason to spend much money, they might do a little
shopping.  Christmas was still some way off and she dreaded spending it
with her grandmother, but perhaps she and her mother would be able to
spend a day out somewhere.

Parents were to arrive directly after lunch and, after the various
displays, be given tea before going home again.  The morning was spent
on last-minute preparations and the solving of small crises as they
occurred, but by one o'clock the whole school was ready--the rows of
chairs in place, the trestle tables in the assembly hall covered with
white cloths and piled with cups and saucers and plates.

"You will help with the tea," said Miss Cross, pausing by Olivia as she
counted sugar bowls, 'and do whatever Miss Ross wants, and be prepared
to give Matron a hand if there are any mishaps.  "

She went on her way and Olivia started counting the sugar bowls once
more.

The children were permitted to greet their parents when they arrived so
that the hall was packed with excited little girls all talking at once.
Olivia, having counted heads and found them correct, took herself off
to the pantry to make sure that everything was as ready as possible for
tea.  The occasion must go off smoothly.  Miss Cross had said.  As soon
as the last item was over the parents would be ushered into the
assembly hall and the tea-urns, plates of sandwiches and cakes were to
be ready and waiting for them.

The tide of parents ebbed and flowed, and almost at the last moment Mr.
van der Eisler's car drew up before the entrance.

Nel, lingering in the hall almost in tears, rushed to meet him as he
got out, opened the door to help Lady Brennon out and then bent to
swing her in the air.

"You came, you came!"  cried Nel.

"And Granny too.  Olivia said you would."  She looked around her.

"I suppose Mummy's working..."

"Yes, love, she is.  Will we do instead?  We're looking forward to
seeing you do whatever it is..."

Nel laughed and hugged her grandmother.

"I'm in a gym display."  She looked suddenly anxious.

"It's almost time to start."

"Then let us go at once and sit down," said Lady Brennon.

"Where is your nice Olivia?"

"She's got to see to the tea as well as us.  I expect she's in one of
the pantries."  She caught them both by the hand.

"Come along--you will watch me, won't you?"

"I shan't take my eyes off you," promised Mr.  van der Eisler.

They found seats at the end of a row, halfway towards the back of the
hall and, since there were still some ten minutes before the first
event was to take place, he settled Lady Brennon in her seat and got
up.

"I'll be back," he assured her, and disappeared through the nearby
door.

In the hall he encountered the porter, enquired where the pantries
might be, and with a brisk nod set off to find them.

Olivia, spooning tea into bowls ready for the urns, turned round to his
quiet, "Hello, Olivia."

She felt the colour leave her cheeks and then rush back in a bright
surge.  She wished with all her heart that she could say something
amusing and casual but all she managed was a breathless "Oh," and then
added peevishly, "You startled me."  She put the bowl down with a
shaking hand.

"Shouldn't you be in the gym?  I am glad you came."  She frowned in
case she gave him the wrong impression.

"What I mean is that I'm glad you came for Nel's sake.  She was so
afraid no one would turn up.  Is--are her grandmother and mother here
too?  I do hope so.  She's in a rhythmic gym display, you know."  She
paused for breath, aware that she was babbling.

He came into the pantry.

"And are you glad to see me again, Olivia?"

"Glad?  Why should I be glad?  I hadn't thought about it.  You must
go."

He took no notice at all.

"I was sorry I wasn't in England to give you a lift back at the
beginning of term."

"There is an excellent train service," she told him frostily.

"Nel told me that you were abroad."

"Ah, yes, I sent her a postcard."

"I hope you had a pleasant holiday..."

He smiled.

"Holiday?  Ah, yes, of course.  It seems a long time ago.  Are you
coming to watch this entertainment?"

"Of course not.  I shall be helping behind the scenes and then giving a
hand with the teas."  She picked up the bowl again for something to
do.

"I hope you enjoy the display;

please remember me to Lady Brennon.  Goodbye, Mr.  van der Eisler.  "
He took his dismissal with, a good grace, although he didn't return her
goodbye.

As he slipped into his seat beside Lady Brennon, a few moments before
the first item on the programme, she whispered, "Did you find her?"

"Yes, but I fancy I've lost her again for the moment, although I'm not
sure why."  He turned his attention to the first of the gym displays.

The afternoon went well--the gymnasts were faultless and the younger
ones performed with aplomb, knowing that their mothers and fathers were
sitting there admiring their efforts.  Miss Cross brought the afternoon
to a close with a suitable speech and everyone surged out, bent on
getting a cup of tea.

Olivia, entrenched behind an urn, did her best not to look at Mr.  van
der Eisler, poised precariously on a small wooden chair, bowing his
vast person to listen to Nel's happy chatter.  Her best wasn't good
enough; Matron's tart voice brought her back to reality.

"Olivia?  Do you not hear what I say?  Sophie Greenslade feels sick.
Get her upstairs before she is, and stay with her until I come with her
mother.  We don't want a fuss..."

With one last lingering glance at Mr.  van der Eisler, Olivia led the
unhappy Sophie up to her dormitory, held the bowl, cleaned the little
girl up and tucked her under a blanket on her bed, looking pale but
smelling sweet, so that by the time Matron and Mrs.  Greenslade arrived
Matron was able to reassure the anxious mother that little Sophie
wasn't suffering from some serious illness.

"Thank you, Olivia, you may go," said Matron graciously.

Olivia went, as fast as her long legs could carry her.  She reached the
hall in time to see Lady Brennon, with Mr.  van der Eisler looming
beside her, disappearing through the entrance.

She stood there, filled with bitter disappointment;

never mind that she had decided to forget him, one more glimpse would
have been nice before she began that difficult task.  She looked with
longing at his massive shoulders disappearing through the door.  This
really was the very last time she would see him.  He turned his head
and saw her and came back to stand before her.

"Were you hiding?"  he asked without preamble.

The?  No.  Sophie was being sick!  "

"Ah."  He smiled at her and her heart turned over.

"We shall meet again," he told her, and went away again.

A remark which made nonsense of her good resolutions, although during
the course of a wakeful night she kept to her decision not to see him
again.

"Not even to think of him," she told herself.

"He was just being kind."

He had said that they would meet again.  Did he mean that he would be
coming to fetch Nel at the end of term?  If so, she would take care not
to be anywhere near him.  If necessary, she would feel ill and be
excused from her duties.  A headache or, better still, a sprained
ankle. On this ridiculous thought she fell into a restless doze, to
wake the next morning heavy-eyed and pale, so that Matron asked her
sharply if she was feeling poorly.

"It will be most inconvenient if you are," said that lady, "I shall
want you to help me with hair-washing this evening."

So Olivia washed one small head after the other, an occupation which
allowed her to dream a great deal of nonsense.  Even though it was
nonsense it was comforting imagining what life would be like if Mr. 
van der Eisler were to fall in love with her.  She might not be going
to see him again but there was no harm in a little daydreaming.

CHAPTER SIX

mrs harding came the next day and as the school was empty, save for the
cook, the porter and the two daily maids, Olivia and her mother had the
pleasant illusion that the whole place was theirs.  It was cold but
fine weather and they took advantage of the peace and quiet to go for
long walks, finding a village pub for lunch and getting back to the
annexe in time to cook their supper and spent the evening together
catching up on gossip.  It was apparent to Olivia that her mother
wasn't happy at Sylvester Crescent.

She had few friends there, indeed, mere acquaintances, who came to play
bridge and rarely asked her back to their homes.  Mrs.  Fitzgibbon was
demanding too, so that Mrs.  Harding felt restricted.  It was no good
telling her to assert herself, thought Olivia, for her mother was a
gentle soul, always determined to expect the best from everyone.  Next
year, thought Olivia, we'll make a home here.  Mother can come back
with me when term starts-at least she will be free to do what she likes
with her days.

They sat making their plans, doing sums on scraps of paper, discussing
the small things they would buy in order to make the little place like
home, and Olivia, despite her secret heartache, was glad to see her
mother so happy.

They went to Bath on the last day of the half-term, looking at the
shops and having a splendid lunch before visiting the Abbey and then
treating themselves to tea.  It was a pity that once the school started
again Olivia wouldn't be free for more than an hour or so each day, but
Mrs.  Harding declared herself quite happy to potter around on her
own.

Indeed, she looked so much better that Olivia persuaded her to stay for
another week and took it upon herself to phone her grandmother and tell
her.

Mrs.  Fitzgibbon, naturally enough, was annoyed, complaining that she
was unable to manage without her daughter's help.

"Doesn't that nice woman--Mrs.  Lark--come in each day and cook and
clean?"  asked Olivia.

"Well, of course she does," snapped her grandmother.

"You really don't suppose that I would wish to do those things myself,
do you?"

"No, Granny.  So you're being well looked-after.  Good.

Mother's very happy here and it's doing her good--she never liked
London, you know.  "

"You are an impertinent girl."

Olivia said, "Yes, Granny," and then rang off.

School began again and now there was excitement in the air.

Christmas was near enough for the allimportant question of presents to
be the main topic and there would be the school play at the end of term
and a concert by those who were learning some musical instrument or
other.

There were the new pupils too, nicely settled in by now but still
ignorant of the festivities ahead and anxious to join in everything.

Olivia, not a skilled needlewoman, none the less sewed pantomime
costumes and, under the guidance of the art mistress, painted scenery,
and when there was no one else available she heard the various parts.
There were a great many, for the parents would have been upset if their
own particular small daughter had had no part.  Those who were hopeless
at learning their lines were taught a dance.  It had nothing to do with
the plot, but what did that matter as long as every child took part?

Nel was one of the Christmas fairies and had a speaking part--well, she
had to say, "And here is Father Christmas' before waving her wand and
rejoining the other fairies.

"Mummy will be proud of me," she assured Olivia.

"She's coming to see me--she promised."

She sounded so doubtful that Olivia hastened to reassure her.

"You're certain?"  asked Nel as Olivia, on dormitory duty, went round
tucking the children up for the night.  Matron didn't approve of the
tucking-up, but Olivia, remembering how cosy it had been to be tucked
in at bedtime, took no notice of that.

"If your Mummy promised, then she'll come," said Olivia firmly.

"Now go to sleep like a good girl."

"All right.  Olivia...?"

She turned back.

"Yes, dear?"

"I'm going to Holland for the holidays.  I hope I'll like it.

Mummy has a lot of friends and I don't like the lady who looks after me
when she's away.  "

"Perhaps it will be another lady this time."

"I do hope so.  I wish you were coming too.  We could explore together.
Where would you like to go most in Amsterdam?"

"Look, love, you must settle down."  And then, seeing that the child
waited for an answer, she said, "Oh, a seat opposite that big picture
in the Rijksmuseum so that I could look at it really properly."  She
dropped a kiss on the small forehead.

"Goodnight."

The end of term prize-giving and the play were to be in the very early
afternoon, and this time there was to be no lunch, only coffee and
sherry before hand, and tea afterwards while the children got ready to
leave with their parents.  Olivia, doing two things at once and at
everyone's beck and call, longed for the day to be over.  She wouldn't
be leaving until the following day and she wasn't really looking
forward to another Christmas at her grandmother's flat but she had the
New Year to look forward to, and a good deal of the holiday would be
taken up with getting her mother organised to come back with her.
Obedient to Miss Ross's urgent voice, she began attaching the wings to
the fairies' small shoulders.

It was a cold and gloomy day and the parents crowded in, intent on
coffee and drinks before finding seats in the assembly hall.  Olivia,
counting fairy heads, found one missing.  Nel--perhaps her mother had
taken her aside for a moment.  Olivia darted away, intent on getting
her into her right place before the curtain went up.

Nel was in the hall and Mr.  van der Eisler was crouching beside her,
holding her close in his great arms, crumpling her wings while she
sobbed into his shoulder.

"She hasn't come?"  hissed Olivia, in a whisper.

"Why didn't you make her?  How could you let her not come?  You knew
that Nel..."

Nel gave a great sniff and paused in her sobs.

"Sh" ;

hasn't come--promised me, she promised me--you heard her.

Uncle Haso.  I won't go to Holland.  "

He took out a very large white handkerchief and wiped her face.

"Must I go back all alone?  I was counting on your company."

She peered up at him.

"Would you be lonely v/ith- out me?"

"I certainly would.  Look, Olivia's here.  I expect she wants you to
join the other fairies."

Olivia spoke.

"Nel has a speaking part; she's very important to the story."

"Then she must do her best.  What is it they say?

"The show must go on" Actresses with broken hearts always forget their
sorrow and act brilliantly, don't they, Olivia?  "

"Always."  She didn't look at him but bore Nel away, just in time to
join the rest of the troupe before the curtain was jerked open with a
certain amount of expertise

The play was loudly applauded, Nel said her line without mishap, and
everyone dispersed for tea and biscuits while the children changed back
into their school clothes, anxious to be gone now that they had
collected their prizes.  All the same it took some time to get the
chattering, excited children ready and sent down to where their parents
were waiting.  Olivia, rounding up the last of them, was accosted by a
parent.

"A most enjoyable afternoon."  She was a pleasant little lady with a
kind face.

"You must be tired and you are so good with the children.  I'm sure we
shall all be sorry to see you go, but I suppose if the Board of
Governors want someone with qualifications there is no choice."  She
held out her hand.

"Anyway, I do wish you the best of luck.  I'm sure Miss Cross will be
very sorry to lose you."

Olivia shook the hand offered her, smiled, and heard herself saying
something which must have been sensible because the little lady smiled
and nodded before she went away with her small daughter.

It can't be true, thought Olivia, bustling the rest of the girls
downstairs.  Miss Cross would have told me.  She followed more slowly,
her thoughts in a turmoil, glad to see that almost everyone had gone.

Not everyone.  Nel and Mr.  van der Eisler were standing by the door.

"Nel wants to say goodbye," he said smoothly, and then with an abrupt
change of tone, "Olivia, what is the matter?

Are you ill?  "

She managed a smile.

"No, no--just a bit tired-it's been a long day but everything was very
successful, wasn't it?  Nel looked well as a fairy, didn't she...?" 
And when he didn't speak, she added, "Are you going back to Holland
straight away?  I didn't see Lady Brennon."

"She has had flu--over the worst now, but this would have tired her
out.  We're going there now and crossing in a day or so."

"Mummy will be waiting for me," said Nel.

"Uncle Haso says so."

"Splendid.  You'll have a gorgeous Christmas, I expect."

The child nodded.

"Mummy's got a new dress for me to wear;

I'm to go to some parties.  " She peered up at Olivia.

"You look sad..."

"Not a bit of it," said Olivia in a bright and brittle voice.

"Just a bit tired."  She took care not to look at Mr.  van der Eisler;
she could feel his eyes on her.

"I must be off, there is heaps of clearing up to do."

"If Mummy invited you, would you come and stay with me, Olivia?"

"What a lovely idea, poppet, but I really must go home.  You see, I've
a mother and a granny, just like you."

"Next to Granny and Uncle Haso I like you, Olivia," said Nel, and
lifted her face for a kiss.

"And I like you..."

"And Uncle Haso?"

"And Uncle Haso."  She still didn't look at him.  It was really quite
difficult to bottle up the torrent of words she wished to utter.  To
tell him that she was to be given the sack, that she was desolate at
the idea of not seeing him again, that she loved him.  She held out a
prim hand.

"Goodbye, Mr.  van der Eisler."  She addressed his chin to be on the
safe side.  If she looked at him, really looked, she might burst into
tears.

His handshake was brief, as was his "Goodbye, Olivia' and a few moments
later he had driven away with Nel beside him.

She stayed where she was for a while, wondering what she should do.
Very soon it would be suppertime and the staff would forgather for the
end-of- term glass of sherry before the meal.  That mother could have
been mistaken, she reflected, she might be panicking about nothing at
all.  The sensible thing to do was to behave as though it was a
mistake. She went and joined the others, exchanged comments about the
play and the prize-giving, listened to plans for Christmas and ate her
supper sitting between

Miss Ross, whom she liked, and Matron, who as usual was laying down the
law about the correct method of making beds.

It was when the meal was over and they were going their separate ways
that Miss Cross asked her to join her in her study.  She wasn't there
long; it didn't take long to give someone the sack, even if it was done
with regret and kindness.

Olivia went to the annexe and began to collect up her things.  There
was no hurry; she was to stay for another day to help in the general
tidying up, label mislaid articles of clothing, make a list of any
minor damage to bed linen towels and tablecloths.  Only then could she
get on the bus to take her to her train and so to her home.

She had some money saved and Miss Cross had given her a splendid
reference, and had even suggested that she should advertise for a
similar post.

"A smaller school," she had advised.

"There are any number of good private schools around the country.
Several of them do without a qualified Matron, and you would do very
well in such a position where qualifications are not necessary.  You
have had experience here.  But you should start looking at once.  It is
probably too late for the spring term, but there is always the
possibility of starting at half-term.  I'm sure that you have no need
to worry, Olivia."

She worried none the less, most of the night and all the next day.  She
slept that night though, from sheer exhaustion.  Since she had said
goodbye to Miss Cross, and only the domestic staff were left now, she
caught her bus and her train and, since every penny mattered now,
another bus to Sylvester Crescent.

Despite the fact that Christmas was only days away, there wasn't a
single Christmas tree to be seen in any of the windows shrouded in
their net curtains;

the only cheerful sight was Mr.  Patel's corner shop, bright with
coloured lights and a tree ablaze with coloured ornaments and tinsel,
and a counter stacked with sweets and biscuits.  Bless the man, thought
Olivia, as the bus crawled past.  I'll go and see him tomorrow.

The air was hardly festive in Mrs.  Fitzgibbon's flat.  True, there was
a display of Christmas cards on the mantelpiece, but her granny evinced
none of the Christmas spirit expected of everyone during the festive
season.  Olivia hugged her mother and went to kiss her grandmother's
cheek.

"Back again?"  asked that lady unnecessarily.

"In my day school holidays were short; education was considered
important."  She studied Olivia's face.

"You look your age, Olivia."

Olivia bit back the obvious retort, winked at her mother to show her
that she didn't mind, and took her cases into her bedroom.  After a
minute or two her mother joined her.

"You don't look a day older, darling," she said earnestly, 'but you do
look tired, love, and I think you've got thinner.  "

"The end of the term is always a wild scramble, Mother.  But great fun.
Has Granny any plans for Christmas?"

"Well, some friends are coming for bridge on Christmas Eve..."

"Good, you and I will go to the midnight service.  Any plans for
Christmas dinner?"

"I think your granny is ordering a chicken."  She added, "I bought a
pudding from Marks and Spencer..."

"Good.  We'll go to Mr.  Patel's tomorrow and get a bottle of wine and
a box of crackers."  She added recklessly, "And after Christmas you and
I will have a day out at the sales."

It was nice to see her mother's eyes sparkle with pleasure.

There was no need to tell her that she had left the school just yet;
she would do it after Christmas, when she had put an advert in the
papers Miss Cross had recommended.

They went, she and her mother, to Mr.  Patel's shop the next morning
and bought the wine, the crackers, and some festive-looking biscuits,
and Olivia added potato crisps, a variety of cheeses and some nuts. 
Her grandmother would deplore the extravagance but, as Mr.  Patel had
pointed out, it was Christmas and a time of good cheer and goodwill,
and to emphasise his point he added a small bottle of lemonade for
free.

They returned to the flat in good spirits, to have them dampened by the
old lady's disapproval.  They were treated to a homily on the prudent
spending of money which showed no sign of ending, so it was with relief
that Olivia went to answer the doorbell.

Mr.  van der Eisler and Nel stood there, the little girl almost hidden
under an arrangement of flowers in a basket.

Mr.  van der Eisler eyed Olivia keenly although his greeting was
pleasantly casual.

"Nel wants to give you a Christmas present," he explained, 'and since
we're leaving in the morning we thought we should come today.  "

"How very kind."  Olivia stood back to allow them to come in and added,
"What a lovely surprise."  She caught his eye and added quickly, "The
flowers, I mean."  She led the way to the sitting-room and ushered them
inside.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?  I was just going to get ours, and I'm
sure Nel would like some lemonade."

"Fizzy?"  asked Nel.

"Very fizzy."  Mr.  Patel didn't sell any other kind.  She handed their
guests over to her mother and went to the kitchen.  It was absurd how
excited she felt just at the sight of him; it was a good thing he was
going away tomorrow.  There was no need to tell him that she wouldn't
be going back to school after Christmas

"Out of sight, out of mind," said Olivia, and dropped the cup she was
holding when Mr.  van der

Eisler said, an inch or so from her ear, "A very misleading statement,
I have always thought."

"Now look what you've done."  She rounded on him and found him smiling
down on her so that she mumbled, "Well, you startled me."

"Understandably."  He was picking up the broken cup.

"Not one of your grandmother's best, I hope?"

"Well, yes, it is, but I'll tell her later..."

"Could we not throw the pieces into the dustbin and say nothing?"

She shook her head.

"Granny counts everything from time to time.  She'd notice at once."

She fetched another cup and set it on its saucer, wondering what to say
next.

"Why did you look like that the other day?"  he asked.

"And why are you so sad now?  And don't, I beg of you, say that you
don't know what I'm talking about."

Something in his voice made her say at once, "I'm not to go back to the
school; the governors want someone with proper qualifications... It was
a bit of a shock.  I had hoped that I could stay on, and Mother was
going to come and live there with me."

He went to the stove and took the milk saucepan off just in time.

"My poor girl."  And when she turned her back so that he shouldn't see
her threatening tears he busied himself making the coffee, and then
opened cupboards until he found a packet of biscuits and arranged them
on a plate.

"You haven't told your mother?"

She had turned round again, the tears swallowed.

"No, I thought I'd wait and try and find a job after Christmas."

"Very sensible, but then you're a sensible girl, aren't you, Olivia?"

"Thank you for making the coffee."  She smiled a little.

"You don't look as though you could--what I mean is, I don't suppose
you have to do it very often in your own home."

"My housekeeper only allows me in the kitchen under her watchful eye,
and you've met Becky--a tyrant if ever there was one!"

"A very kind-hearted one..."

He carried the tray into the sitting-room and sat down beside Mrs.
Fitzgibbon, charming her into good humour while Nel told Olivia and her
mother just what a marvelous time she would have when she got to
Amsterdam.

"I've a new dress," she told them breathlessly, 'and of course it's
Christmas, so Mummy won't go to her office.  I expect we'll have a
simply wonderful time.  " She looked around her.

"You haven't got a Christmas tree--Uncle Haso has.  It's in the window
and people in the street can see it lighted up."

Mrs.  Harding replied suitably and Olivia went away to get more coffee.
The visit lasted some time but Mr.  van der Eisler had nothing more to
say to her other than a polite goodbye and good wishes.  Whether they
were for Christmas or for her uncertain future she had no idea.

It was early evening and dark when she answered the doorbell again. 
Mr. Patel stood on the doorstep with a large basket filled with
tastefully arranged fruit, a large box of chocolates, and a charming
floral arrangement of Christmas roses, miniature daffodils, hyacinths
and jasmine.

"A surprise for you, miss," he said cheerfully.

"I myself arranged the basket and went to the market to buy the flowers
which the gentleman wished you to have.  You are pleased?"

"Oh, Mr.  Patel, it's magnificent--how beautifully you've arranged it.
It must have taken you ages."

"Yes, indeed, but the gentleman was generous.  It was a very splendid
order.  You will enjoy your Christmas now, miss, and may I remind you
that my shop will be open until late on Christmas Eve in case you find
yourself without essential food?"

"I'll remember that, Mr.  Patel--I expect my mother will be along to do
some more shopping in the morning."

"Always welcome and goodnight, miss."

The cheerful little man went away and Olivia carried the basket into
the sitting-room and put it on the table.

"A gift for me?"  asked her grandmother.

"Well, no.  Granny--it's for me," Olivia was reading the card tucked
behind the pineapple.  Mr.  van der Eisler wished her the compliments
of the season in handwriting which was barely readable.  He had signed
it H v'd E. The card had bright red roses in one corner, but she didn't
think that they signified anything.

"How very kind," observed Mrs.  Harding, and looked pleased;

the fruit would enliven their festive table very nicely but that wasn't
why she looked pleased.  She had a beautiful daughter who deserved an
admirer as handsome and delightful as Mr.  van der Eisler.  Of course
there was nothing in it--there was Nel's mother, a very pretty woman
and charming she had thought, although Nel had said one or two things.
Of course, children did exaggerate.

Christmas came; they exchanged small gifts, cooked the chicken, ate the
fruit and made up the second bridge table unwillingly on Boxing Day,
when Mrs.  Fitzgibbon's friends came for the afternoon and evening.
Olivia, who was as bad at bridge as her mother, sighed with relief as
the last of them went home and she could clear the cups and glasses and
plates.  Their guests had eaten everything offered to them and Olivia
was hungry.  She did the glasses, filled a bowl with water to do the
washing-up, and went to cut herself a slice of bread with a hunk of
cheese on top.  Her mother and grandmother had gone to bed and she
didn't hurry, there was nothing planned for the following day; she
would pen an advert ready to post at the first opportunity.

She finished her chores, took a chocolate from the box which her
grandmother had offered round with a generous hand, and went to bed.

She was making the early morning tea when the phone rang.  It was still
dark and very cold and the phone was in the hall.  She pulled her
dressing-gown tightly round her and padded along to see who it was.  A
wrong number, she supposed, and her hello was abrupt.

"Have I got you out of bed," enquired Mr.  van der Eisler.

"No.  I'm getting the tea, and this is a fine time to phone, I must
say."

"Only because I need your help, Olivia.  Nel ran away from her home--I
found her and she's with me, but I must be at the hospital all day and
every day for some time.  She wants to go back to Lady Brennon but that
has to be arranged.

Bronger, who looks after my home, will fly over this morning and fetch
you back here.  He'll have tickets and money-have you a passport?  Yes,
good.  He'll be with you by midday.  Will you do this for me, Olivia? 
And for Nel?  She asks for you continually.  "

"Yes, of course I will.  What do I bring with me?  Enough for a few
days?"

"Ten days--something warm.  Thank you, Olivia."

She padded back to the kitchen.  The kettle was boiling merrily and she
made the tea and sat down to drink hers.  She was, of course, out of
her mind;

he had only to ask her to do something quite preposterous and she
agreed without even thinking about it.  Her head needed examining.  All
the same, she would go.  She reviewed her wardrobe mentally, thought
about money, and took a cup of tea to her mother.

"I heard the phone," said that lady, with just the hint of a question
in her voice.

Olivia explained.

"Do you think I'm mad?"  she asked.

"Certainly not, dear.  I don't imagine that Mr.  van der Eisler is a
man to waste time on phone calls at seven o'clock in the morning unless
he has good reason to do so.  You do quite right to go.  Poor
child...!"

Olivia settled on the end of the bed.

"Only, I'm so sorry to leave you.  Mother.  We'd planned so much..."

"Yes, I know, love, but you won't be gone all that time, and I'll come
and stay with you again."

"Yes, of course."  Olivia picked at the cotton bed spread.

"Mother, I can't not go.  You see, I'm in love with him."

"Yes, dear."  Her mother sounded unsurprised.

Olivia pulled at a loose thread and watched it un ravel.

"It's silly, really.  I think he'll marry Rita Nel's mother it would be
so suitable; she's his dead friend's widow and Nel is devoted to him.
Besides, she's pretty and charming and amusing."

"None the less you love him, Olivia.  You must do whatever your heart
tells you to do."

Olivia smiled.

"Granny won't like it."

"Granny has nothing to do with it, darling.  Go and get dressed and
pack a bag.  I'll get breakfast.  Take your Granny a cup of tea first,
and don't say a word."

So Olivia was dressed, her bag packed, her passport found, money in her
purse and her winter coat laid out on the bed ready to put on by the
time her grandmother came out of her room.

She looked at Olivia's neatly turned-out person.

"Why are you wearing that good skirt?"  she wanted to know.

"There's no money to buy you new clothes, you know."

Olivia handed her a cup of coffee and gave one to her mother.

"I'm going over to Holland, Granny.  I've been asked to look after Nel
for a week or two."

"And where's the money coming from to pay for your fare?"

"I'm being fetched."

As if on cue the door-knocker was thumped, and she went to answer it. 
A short, stout man stood on the step, very spruce as to dress, with
iron-grey hair and very blue eyes.

"Miss Harding.  I am Bronger, houseman to Mr.  van der Eisler;

I am to take you to his house in

Amsterdam.  " He held out a hand and crushed hers with it.

"Do please come in, we're just having coffee.  Do we need to go at once
or have you time for a cup?"

"That would be good, miss."  His English was fluent but strongly
accented.

"If we leave in half an hour, but no later."

She helped him off with his short, thick jacket.

"How do we go?"

"A car will come here for us, all is arranged.  We fly to Schiphol and
from there we drive to Amsterdam.  I have left the car there."

"Well, do come in and meet my mother and grandmother."

He shook hands and bowed slightly, took a chair and drank his coffee,
answering Mrs.  Fitzgibbon's questions with politeness and telling her,
in effect, nothing at all.  A very discreet man, thought Olivia, liking
him.

The car came and they were borne away.

"You have no need to trouble about the journey," said Bronger.

"All is arranged."

"In such a short time, too," said Olivia.

"I can't think how you did it in just a few hours."

He smiled and said nothing and presently she asked, "May I ask you a
little about Nel?  She is with Mr.  van der Eisler, isn't she?  Is
there no chance that she might go home?"  She paused.

"Perhaps I shouldn' task you..."

"Mr.  van der Eisler has confided in me, miss.  Nel refuses to go to
her home; I do not know exactly why.  She left a note when she left
home and most fortunately she was found within a few hours.  She wishes
for you and she is most upset; this is the best plan Mr.  van der
Eisler could make in the short time he had.  It is unfortunate that he
has a very busy schedule at several hospitals during the next few days
which he cannot change.  It is good of you to come at so short a
notice, miss."

"Well, I hope I'll be able to help.  Mr.  van der Eisler said on the
phone that Nel would go back to her grandmother as soon as he could
arrange that."

Bronger nodded his grey head.

"Nel is happy with her.  She is like her father was."

They had reached the airport and the next half- hour was taken up with
being processed to the plane, and once on board they didn't talk.
Olivia had a great deal to think about and Bronger closed his eyes and
drifted into a light doze.  He must have been up very early, thought
Olivia.

At Schiphol he escorted her to the main entrance, bade her wait and
went away, to return within minutes driving a beautifully kept Jaguar.
He got out, stowed her case, and opened the car door.

Olivia hesitated.

"May I sit with you?"  she asked.

"I'd much rather."

He looked pleased.

"A pleasure, miss."  He gave her a rare smile.

"It is a short drive to Amsterdam."

Once in the heart of the city, Olivia looked about her eagerly.  Away
from the busy main streets the old houses by the canals looked as
though nothing in them had altered for centuries, and when Bronger
stopped before Mr.  van der Eisler's house she got out and stood on the
narrow pavement, looking up at it.

She wasn't allowed to loiter.  He mounted the double steps, opened the
door and ushered her inside.  At the same moment a small figure came
flying down the stairs and flung herself at Olivia.

"I knew you'd come.  Uncle Haso said you would.  Oh, Olivia, you'll
stay with me, won't you?  I won't go back, I won't..."

"Now, now, poppet," said Olivia, and hugged the child.

"Of course I'll stay, and I'm sure your uncle won't make you do
anything which makes you unhappy."

"She was horrid--she had a wart on her chin and she slapped me and told
my Mummy I was disobedient and Mummy just laughed and said I'd have to
change my ways... Olivia..."

Bronger took charge.

"Now, Nel, will you let miss go to her room and tidy herself? Presently
you'll have your lunch with her; Ofke will have it all ready."

A door at the end of the hall opened then, and a tall, bony woman
joined them.  She offered a hand to Olivia and smiled, and Bronger
said, "My wife, Ofke.  She house keeps and cooks.

She speaks no English but I will help, and Nel understands Dutch--some
at least.  "

He said something to his wife, who nodded and led the way up the
staircase.  The landing was square, with doors on either side and a
wide corridor running towards the back of the house.  She led the way
down this and opened one of the doors, beckoning Olivia to go in.

The room was square and lofty and its one large window overlooked a
narrow strip of garden at the back of the house.  It was furnished with
a canopied bed, a rosewood table with a triple mirror on it, a tallboy
in the same wood, a couple of small armchairs and a bedside table with
a lovely porcelain lamp on it.  The carpet and the curtains matched the
soft pink of the bedspread and it was deliciously warm.

Nel ran past her.

"There's a bathroom--' she opened a door '--and a clothes closet."  She
flung open another door.

"Uncle Haso let me choose."  She perched on the bed while Olivia took
off her coat and hat.

"I'll tell you about how I ran away, shall I?"

"Yes, darling, I do want to know what happened.  But shall we wait
until we are downstairs, perhaps over lunch?"

There was no sign of Mr.  van der Eisler when they went downstairs and
presently they had their lunch in a small, cosy room behind the vast
drawing-room Olivia had glimpsed, and Nel poured out her story.

CHAPTER SEVEN

mr van der eisler, coming quietly into his house, paused in the
drawing-room doorway, put a cautionary hand on Achilles' great head,
and looked his fill at the sleeping occupants of the chair.  Olivia's
bright hair had come a little loose from its pins and her mouth was
just a little open.  All the same, she looked very beautiful, sitting
there, clutching Nel to her, her chin resting on the child's fair
head.

He trod across the room, making no sound on the carpet, and stooped to
kiss Nel's cheek and then Olivia's.  Neither of them stirred as he went
to sit down in his armchair on the opposite side of the great hearth.
Achilles arranged himself beside his master's chair and presently sank
his head on his paws and dozed.  His master, tired though he was after
a long list in Theatre, stayed awake, his eyes on the sleeping pair.

Olivia opened her eyes first, suddenly wide awake, staring at him over
Nel's head.  She whispered, "We went to sleep--have you been here long?
Why didn't you wake us up?"

He smiled and shook his head.

"I wanted to keep my dreams," he said, and she frowned, wondering

It was rather garbled and Olivia had difficulty following it.  The
woman with the wart featured heavily in it and, so, regrettably, did
Nel's mother who, it seemed, had hardly ever been at home during
Christmas. She let the child talk because she could see that it was
what she needed to do--perhaps later Mr.  van der Eisler would find the
time to tell her exactly what had happened.

Nel was a little too bright-eyed, she thought, so after lunch she
suggested that they went and sat by the fire in the magnificence of the
drawing-room.

"And you can tell me some more," she suggested.  The chairs were large
and comfortable.  Nel climbed into her lap, had a little weep, and
closed her eyes and presently slept.  So did Olivia, worn out from the
suddenness of it all.

CHAPTER SEVEN

mr van der eisler, coming quietly into his house, paused in the
drawing-room doorway, put a cautionary hand on Achilles' great head,
and looked his fill at the sleeping occupants of the chair.  Olivia's
bright hair had come a little loose from its pins and her mouth was
just a little open.  All the same, she looked very beautiful, sitting
there, clutching Nel to her, her chin resting on the child's fair
head.

He trod across the room, making no sound on the carpet, and stooped to
kiss Nel's cheek and then Olivia's.  Neither of them stirred as he went
to sit down in his armchair on the opposite side of the great hearth.
Achilles arranged himself beside his master's chair and presently sank
his head on his paws and dozed.  His master, tired though he was after
a long list in Theatre, stayed awake, his eyes on the sleeping pair.

Olivia opened her eyes first, suddenly wide awake, staring at him over
Nel's head.  She whispered, "We went to sleep--have you been here long?
Why didn't you wake us up?"

He smiled and shook his head.

"I wanted to keep my dreams," he said, and she frowned, wondering what
he meant.  But there was no chance to ask, for Nel woke up then and
scrambled off her lap and on to her uncle's.

"May I stay forever?"  she asked him.

"I'll go to school if I must, because then I can see Granny, but I'll
come back here and live with you and Olivia."

"We'll have to think about that, Nel.  I'm not sure if it would work.
You see, I have to work each day and Olivia must go back to England in
a little while."  He looked down at the suddenly unhappy face.

"But you shall certainly stay with Granny as often as you want to, and
in two days' time I'll drive you and Olivia up to Friesland for a
little holiday."

"You won't send me back to that horrid lady?  Mummy won't mind if I'm
not there--I heard her tell that lady that I was an en cum a long word
I can't quite remember, but I think it means that she doesn't want
me."

"I think that perhaps we can alter that, liefje, but we'll have to wait
until I have the time to arrange things differently."

"I don't suppose you'd like to get married?"

He laughed then.

"Well, I have been giving it serious thought just lately."

Which would make everyone happy, reflected Olivia, excepting herself,
of course.  She looked up and found his eyes on her.

"I expect you would like to phone your mother, Olivia.  Use the phone
in my study--the last door on the opposite side of the hall.  And you,
my pet, must go and find Ofke and have your supper..."

"You won't go away?  And Olivia?  Will she put me to bed?"

"Of course," said Olivia, and got to her feet.

"You go and have your supper while I phone home, and we'll go upstairs
together."

She was glad to get out of the room.  Seeing Mr.  van der Eisler
sitting there in his home, planning a convenient future so calmly, was
turning her good sense upside-down.

By the time she had finished talking to her mother, Nel had had her
supper and the next half-hour or so was taken up by getting her to bed.
A long-drawn- out business which Olivia made no attempt to hasten--to
spend the rest of the evening with Mr.  van der Eisler would be heaven
but on the other hand living up to his idea of a sensible young woman
was going to be difficult--but finally she could prolong the bedtime
story no longer.  She tucked the little girl in, kissed her and went
downstairs.

Mr.  van der Eisler was sitting in his chair reading, with Achilles
still snoozing at his feet.  They both got up as she went in.

"Do sit down," he begged her.

"Nel is a dear child, but quite exhausting.  Would you like sherry?"

She accepted the crystal glass he offered her and set it down carefully
on the table beside her, hoping that he hadn't seen her trembling hand.
Which of course he had.  She said, "She is a dear little girl.  Perhaps
her mother could find another person to look after her?  I'm sure
that's her real reason for running away.  The lady had a wart..."  She
saw his smile.

"No, I'm serious warts and witches, you know!  and perhaps being made
to eat something she didn't like... Such silly little things which need
not have happened if..."

She stopped then, just in time, but he finished the sentence for her.

"If her mother had been there.  You're quite right.

But Rita has an excellent job at which she excels; she also meets a
number of interesting people, goes to various meetings and travels all
of which are important to her.  "

Not more important than looking after your small daughter, thought
Olivia, although she didn't say so.

"So what do you intend to do?"  she asked.

"I shall be free tomorrow afternoon.  We will go and see Rita, who has
agreed to be at home then.  Perhaps Nel will agree to stay with her, if
so all the better, but if there is still difficulty I will bring her
back here for another night and the following day we will drive up to
Friesland that will be in the late afternoon, so I must ask you to look
after her until then."

"Very well.  I shan't be needed in Friesland?"

"Indeed you will.  My mother is more than willing to have Nel but she
doesn't feel able to cope with the child.  My young brother will be at
home but I doubt if he will want to spend his time with Nel."

Olivia thought of several things to say but uttered none of them.  No
doubt Mr.  van der Eisler had enough on his mind without her asking
what to his mind would be foolish questions.  She had almost no money,
very few clothes with her, and any chances of getting a job had been
knocked on the head for the time being.  Such trivial matters, she
reflected sourly, would mean little to him.  He had arranged everything
efficiently and to suit himself.  If she hadn't loved him she might
have flatly refused to be rushed into anything.  Bronger came in and
requested that they should dine, and over a delicious meal in the
charming dining-room she became reconciled to his plans.  Due, no
doubt, to his placid conversation, the superb roast pheasant and the
vintage claret.  They had their coffee in the drawing-room and
presently he excused himself on the pretext of having telephone calls
to make, and left her to sit by the fire, leafing through magazines and
trying to think sensibly about her future.

Since it seemed that he didn't intend to return to the drawing-room she
took herself off to bed, escorted to the stairs by Bronger with the
assurance that she would be called in the morning with tea.

"China or Indian, miss?"  he asked, and bade her a kindly goodnight.

She slept soundly and was wakened by Nel creeping into her bed and
demanding a story, only brought to its conclusion by the arrival of the
morning tea, shared by the two of them.  Later, dressed, they went
downstairs together to find that Mr.  van der Eisler had already left
home for the hospital, leaving a message that they were to amuse
themselves that morning and be sure to be ready for him when he got
back around two o'clock.

"So, what shall we do?"  asked Olivia.

Nel looked surprised.

"You know already," she said accusingly.

"We're going to look at the picture in the Rijksmuseum--you said
so..."

"So I did.  Stupid of me to have forgotten.  I'll ask Bronger how to
get there."

"I will drive you there, miss.  The professor wouldn't allow anything
else."

"Oh, wouldn't he?  Professor?  Is Mr.  van der Eisler a professor?"

"Yes, miss.  Very highly thought of, too.  When would you like to go,
miss?"

He drove them in the dark blue Jaguar, sleek and gleaming, and set them
down at the museum's entrance, handed Olivia a couple of notes with the
observation that the professor had told him to deal with expenses, and
told her that he would be exactly on that spot at twelve o'clock.

"There is a pleasant cafe inside," he suggested.

"I wish you an enjoyable morning."

Which it certainly was.  They prowled round looking at portraits and
landscapes and Olivia, who had feared that Nel might get bored, found
that she was as interested as she herself was.  They had their
elevenses and made their way to the Nightwatch, and sat down before it.
It was an enormous painting; it took them some time to pick out the
many figures in it and, once they had done that, Nel insisted on
reading up stories about each of them--even the little dog.  They sat
absorbed, side by side, their heads close together while they
whispered.

When Mr.  van der Eisler slid his vast person on to the bench beside
Olivia she gave a gasp.

"Oh, heavens, have we forgotten the time?"  She looked at her watch,
bending her head to hide the sudden flood of colour in her face.

"No, no--the last operation had to be cancelled so I have been able to
leave early.  Have you been here long?"

Nel leaned across Olivia.

"Ages and ages," she said with satisfaction.

"Olivia's been telling me stories about the man in the picture.  Will
you take us home?  Bronger said he'd come for us at twelve o'clock."

"Will I do instead?  I told Bronger I'd fetch you on my way back."

"Well, of course you will.  Uncle Haso.  I like Bronger but I like you
a lot better--so does Olivia, don't you Olivia?"

Olivia said rather coldly, "I haven't given the matter much thought."

"Bronger's married to Ofke," observed Nel, 'so you can only like him a
little otherwise she might mind, but Oom Haso.  "

Olivia avoided Mr.  van der Eisler's eye and said hastily, "Yes, yes,
of course, shouldn't we be going?"

"You haven't told me about that man in the corner of the painting."

"I think it would be nice to save him for the next time," said Olivia
briskly.

"I'm sure your uncle wants his lunch."

Mr.  van der Eisler, who was quite happy where he was, saw that it
might be better to agree with Olivia, who looked a little flushed and
put out.

"By all means let us go home to our lunch.  I dare say we shall have
tea with your mother, Nel."  And at the child's quick frown he added,
'and you will have your supper in Friesland.  "

A red herring which he trailed successfully all the way back to his
house with Nel perched beside him, happy again.

Nel's high spirits disappeared as they got into the car again to go to
her mother's flat.  Her small mouth was set in a mutinous tight line
and Olivia's coaxing was to no avail.

As they stopped outside the block of flats Nel said in a small voice,
"You promise not to leave me here, Uncle Haso?"

"I promise, liefje.  Your mother wants to see you and make sure that
you are happy; she won't stop you going to Friesland with Olivia and
when you have had a holiday there perhaps you will change your mind and
go back to her.  You ought to go back to school in a week or so, but
I've arranged that-you won't need to go back until we have things
sorted out here."

"Then will you and Mummy take me back?"

"Very likely, for we need to talk to your granny.  She must be told of
the plans we have for the future."

Of course they are going to marry, thought Olivia miserably, and had
the thought substantiated by the manner in which Rita greeted Mr.  van
der Eisler.  Arms around his neck and looking up at him from under
long, curling--and false--eyelashes.  He remained placid, but then he
wasn't a man to show his feelings, decided Olivia, and urged Nel
forward to greet her mother.

Rita enfolded her child in a close embrace, kissed her a great deal and
murmured in a loving voice.  Olivia wasn't taken in one bit and she
didn't think Nel was either, but what Mr.  van der Eisler thought was
being hidden behind a passive countenance.

"Darling," cooed Rita, 'what a lot of trouble you have given Mummy--I'm
almost out of my mind.  Now, I want you to run along and play while
your uncle and I have a talk.  Juffrouw Schalk is in your bedroom,
packing some clothes for you.

Take.  " She paused and smiled prettily at Olivia.

"I've forgotten your name--so stupid..."

"Olivia."

"Of course, take Olivia with you, darling.  I'm sure Juffrouw Schalk
will be able to give her some useful tips."

She flipped a hand in dismissal and turned to Mr.  van der Eisler as
Nel led Olivia from the room.

"Don't go away," begged the child as they crossed the hall and went
into a room on the far side.

Juffrouw Schalk was there, sitting in a comfortable chair by a closed
stove, and she was exactly as Olivia had pictured her--dark eyes, small
and sly, a long nose, a high forehead from which dark hair was drawn
back and a mean mouth, beside which was the wart.  Probably she was a
good and efficient woman, but Olivia could understand at once why Nel
didn't like her.

Juffrouw Schalk spoke sharply in Dutch to Nel, who answered her and
added in English, "Juffrouw Schalk speaks English, Olivia."

"Good afternoon," said Olivia politely, and was told to sit down.

"This silly child," said Juffrouw Schalk in thickly accented English,
'is spoilt by her English grandmother.  She should go to one of our
schools and learn instead of doing as she likes.  "

Olivia wondered if the child had had the chance to do anything she
liked while she was with her mother.

"She is a good pupil at her school and happy with her grandmother."

"An old lady," shrugged Juffrouw Schalk.

"Who does not punish her, I think."

"She's not old," shouted Nel, 'and I don't need to be punished.  I'm a
good girl, excepting when I'm with you.  I hate you.  "

"Hush, Nel," said Olivia.

"Juffrouw Schalk doesn't mean to be unkind; she is merely expressing
her opinions."

She looked at that lady, who was red in the face and about to burst
into indignant speech.

"Perhaps Nel might go to the kitchen and get a drink of milk?"  she
suggested, and didn't wait for an answer but sent her on the errand,
aware that Juffrouw Schalk was on the point of exploding.

"You are a fool," said that lady.

"Mrs.  Brennon tells me this, that you come to look after the child so
that you may entice the professor.  But you waste your time, miss, for
they will marry soon and you will be sent packing."

Olivia gave her a thoughtful look.

"What makes you think that I am in the least interested in Mr.  van der
Eisler?  I hardly know him.  I am merely helping him out in a difficult
situation--which never need have arisen if you had treated Nel with
kindness."  She drew a steadying breath.

"I must say that I agree with Nel; I find you unkind and far too
strict.

In fact, I don't like you, Juffrouw Schalk.  "

She smiled at the outraged face and walked out of the room, found her
way to the kitchen and accepted a cup of tea from a comfortable woman
who was plying Nel with milk and biscuits.

She was enjoying a second cup and a three-sided conversation with Nel
and the comfortable woman when the door opened and Rita came in.

"What's this I hear from Juffrouw Schalk?"  she demanded.

"That you have questioned her treatment of Nel--the insolence..."

"No, no, I was quite polite to her," said Olivia calmly, 'and what I
said was true.  I'm sure you must have seen that for yourself, Mrs.
Brennon.  " She added, " Although if you aren't at home much you would
have noticed nothing.  "

Nel had skipped away, to find her uncle no doubt, and Olivia watched
Rita's face grow ugly with rage.  Might as well be hung for a sheep as
for a lamb, she thought.  Mr.  van der Eisler, appealed to, would send
her packing in the nicest possible way and Rita would weep prettily on
his shoulder and tell him that she had had no idea that Juffrouw Schalk
had been making her darling Nel unhappy.

"If I had the time to arrange things differently for Nel, I would do
so.  Unfortunately I have a most important appointment very shortly,
and a dinner party this evening."

She glared at Olivia.

"But be sure that I shall not forget this.  I shall speak to Mr.  van
der Eisler and ask him to rearrange his plans for Nel."

"I'll wait here, shall I?  While you talk to him."

Rita spoke pettishly.

"Don't be absurd.  Haven't I

just said that I have no time now?  You'll have to gc with Nel and stay
with her until I can find the time to discuss this.  Am I never to be
allowed to live my life as I want?

All this stupid fuss--Nel's only a child.  "

Olivia bit back the words she longed to utter and instead thanked the
comfortable woman for the tea and held the door open for Rita, who
swept past her across the hall and into the room where Nel and Mr.  van
der Eisler were standing at the window, watching the traffic in the
street.

Olivia could do nothing but admire the speed with which Rita
transformed herself into an ill-done-by and wistful woman.

She said in a wispy voice, "Oh, Haso, tell me that I'm doing the right
thing--I have so looked forward to these weeks with Nel and everything
has gone wrong."

Her eyes had filled with tears and Olivia wondered how she managed to
do that.  Crocodile tears, she decided.  Rita, she suspected, was only
too glad to see Nel's small back disappear through the door.  It was a
perfect performance;

she watched Mr.  van der Eisler's face and wished that just once in a
while he would allow his feelings to show.

Certainly his voice was kind and patient.

"I am sure that when Nel has had a holiday with my mother, away from
all of us, she will feel quite differently.  We must talk about it
later, of course, but l think that it might be best for her to return
to school in a week or so, and perhaps you can arrange to be free for
the Easter holidays."

Rita pouted prettily.

"But I've already arranged..."  She glanced at Olivia.

"I don't wish to discuss this before a servant."

"If you refer to Olivia, I must point out that she is not a servant;
she is looking after Nel at my request and for your convenience."

Something in his quiet voice made Rita say reluctantly, "I'm sorry--I'm
so upset."  She wasn't too upset to look at her watch and add, "I
simply have to go--an important meeting."

She kissed Nel and then went to him and tucked a hand through his
arm.

"Don't be angry with me, Haso, we'll meet and talk.  You know that I
depend on you utterly."

Olivia looked away as she kissed his cheek and whispered something with
a little trill of laughter.  Nel, she noticed, had turned her back and
was watching the street outside again.  She gave her mother a dutiful
kiss when bidden to do so, pressed herself close to Olivia when
Juffrouw Schalk came in with her case, and hopped into the car the
moment the door was opened.  Nobody spoke as Mr.  van der Eisler drove
back to his house.  Only once they were inside its warm comfort did he
observe, "A cup of tea before we go, I think.

Do go into the drawing-room and Bronger will bring it--I must do some
phoning.  I'll join you presently.  "

They had almost finished when he came back, accepted a cup of tea, made
a few non-committal remarks about nothing much and suggested that they
should leave in ten minutes or so.

He's angry, thought Olivia, escorting Nel upstairs to fetch a forgotten
teddy bear and to collect her own case.  It was taken from her by a
hovering Bronger, Nel and Achilles were settled on the back seat of the
car, and Mr.  van der Eisler invited her to sit beside him.

An opportunity not to be missed; she would see precious little of him
once this small upheaval had been settled.  A week, she reflected, or
with luck ten days before Nel would be sent back to England-and she
with her, no doubt.  She would see nothing of him during that time, but
just being in the same country was a small comfort.

The afternoon had darkened and she had no doubt that outside the big
car's comfortable warmth it was very cold.

"We shall have snow," said Mr.  van der Eisler, 'probably before we
reach Tierjum.  "

"Just where is that?"

"A few miles east of Leeuwarden, a small village close to one of the
lakes."  He didn't enlarge upon that, and she supposed that he was
vexed with her for upsetting Rita.  She sat very still and quiet,
watching what she could see in the gathering gloom of the
countryside.

They were travelling north and sure enough, as they reached the
Afsluitdijk, it began to snow.  Soft, feathery flakes at first, and
then a whirling mass blown hither and thither by the wind.

"You're not nervous?"

She glanced at his calm profile.

"No.  If I were driving, though, I should be terrified."

"Once we're off the dijk the wind won't be so fierce, and we shall be
at Tierjum in half an hour or so.  Is Nel asleep?"

She turned her head to look.

"Yes, and so is Achilles."

"He's devoted to her.  I must do my best to come up and see her before
she goes back and bring him with me."

It seemed endless, the drive across the dijk--the sea dijk was too high
for her to see the sea, but on the other side of the road it was lower,
and she could see the grey waters of the Ijsselmeer roughed up by the
wind; they looked cold and forbidding.

The dijk ended at last and although the snow was still falling
relentlessly there was less wind.

"Franeker," said Mr.  van der Eisler, sweeping through a small town
with lighted shop windows before taking the main road to Leeuwarden. 
It was a motorway, she supposed, for although she could see lights from
time to time there was nothing close to the road.  At Leeuwarden he
circumvented the town, leaving its lighted streets for the highway
again, but only for a short distance, soon turning off on to a narrow
brick road.

Although she looked hard she could see nothing on either side of
them.

"Fields," said Mr.  van der Eisler briefly.

"This is a country road."

He appeared to know it well, which was a good thing, she considered,
for there were no signposts visible at the few crossings.  It might be
near Leeuwarden but it seemed like a distant and isolated spot. 
Through the snow she glimpsed lights at last, and he slowed the car to
enter a village a handful of small houses, a lighted shop, the dim
outline of a church and then another lane, to sweep the car between
brick pillars and high wrought-iron gates and stop before a house whose
windows blazed light.  The dark evening and the snow prevented her from
seeing the house clearly but she had the impression of a flat, solid
front before she was urged up double steps and in through an arched
doorway. Achilles loped beside her; Mr.  van der Eisler, with Nel in
his arms, was close on her heels.

A tall, bony man with white hair opened the inner door as they reached
it and Mr.  van der Eisler put Nel down and clapped the older man on
the shoulder, talking what to Olivia sounded utter nonsense.  Dutch was
bad enough, although she had begun to pick out a word here and there,
but this was something different.  Mr.  van der Eisler suddenly
switched to English.

"This is Tober, Olivia.  He has been with the family forever--before I
was born--he is part of our lives."

She held out a hand and said, "How do you do?"  and was a little
surprised when Tober told her that he did very well in quite tolerable
English.  He was embraced by Nel then, before taking their coats and
leading the way across the wide hall to the double doors on one side.
Nel was hanging on to his hand and Achilles was trotting sedately
beside him.

Very much at home, thought Olivia, and as though she had voiced her
thought Mr.  van der Eisler said, "Nel comes to pay us a visit each
time she comes to Holland and, as for Achilles, he regards it as his
second home--as indeed it is."

They had reached the doors and Tober had opened them to reveal a large,
lofty room with tall, narrow windows at one end, almost concealed by
thick brocade curtains of tawny silk.  The walls were hung with the
same silk panels, separated by white-painted columns.  The floor was
polished wood and covered with silky carpets and there were massive
bow- fronted display cabinets against the walls and an enormous
fireplace with a stone hood.  A museum, thought Olivia, and then as her
eye took in the comfortable chairs, the tables with their pretty table
lamps the pile of books on the sofa-table, the jumble of knitting cast
down on a low stool and the tabby cat curled up in one of the chairs, A
museum perhaps, but a lived-in one, warm and very welcoming.

Nel had darted forward to where a lady was sitting by the fire, and
Olivia, propelled gently by a large hand between her shoulders,
perforce followed her.  The lady got to her feet, stooped to kiss Nel,
and then advanced a few steps to meet them.

"Haso--how delightful to see you, my dear."  She lifted her face to
receive his kiss.

"And this is Olivia.  Welcome, my dear, I am so delighted to have
guests."

She held out a hand, smiling at Olivia.  She was of the same height and
still a beautiful woman, with bright blue eyes, iron-grey hair, brushed
severely back from her forehead, and an upright figure.

"You had a good drive here?  The weather can be most unpleasant at this
time of year.  You must have a cup of coffee before you go upstairs,
and you, Nel, shall have warm milk and some of those little biscuits
you like so much."

The coffee was brought and Olivia, sitting beside her hostess before a
blazing fire, felt that life just for the moment was perfect.  Mr.  van
der Eisler sat in a great wing chair with Nel on a stool beside him and
Achilles already dozing at his feet; she smiled at him and his
answering smile was kind.  It was also impersonal.

Presently she was taken upstairs by Tober's wife, Anke, a short, stout
little person, dressed severely in black and bearing all the hallmarks
of an old family retainer.  It was extraordinary, reflected Olivia as
she followed her up the wide, curving staircase, that in this modern
world Mr.  van der Eisler's family appeared to have no shortage of
help. He was well served in his London home, and equally well here. 
Perhaps this house belonged to his mother--perhaps she could discover
that while she was here.  She and Nel had adjoining rooms and shared a
bathroom.  Both were charmingly furnished in soft pastel colours and
rosewood.  Olivia, running a hand over the patina of the sofa-table,
which did duty as a dressing-table, reflected that the house was
perfect.  She could hardly wait for the morning to examine it from the
outside.  Nel, tugging at her hand, brought her back to reality, and
she tidied the pair of them and they went downstairs again.  Nel, she
noted, was a changed child, laughing and skipping around--a contrast to
the unhappy child she had seen in Amsterdam.  Perhaps when Mr.  van der
Eisler and Rita married he would alter things.

He and his mother broke off their conversation as they went in and he
said easily, "We shall dine early as I must get back.  Come and sit
down and have a drink, Olivia--Nel, Anke has made some of that lemonade
you like so much, and I think that you might stay up for dinner just
this once."

He was rewarded with a hug and a great many kisses.

"You really are a super uncle," said Nel.

"It would be nice if I could live here with you and live with Granny in
England."

His mother said gently, "But you would miss your mother, liejje."

"I wouldn't, because she's never home with me, only that awful Juffrouw
Schalk.  She has a wart..."

"I dare say your mother will be able to find someone else without a
wart..."

Nel shook her head.

"I'll talk to Mummy," promised Mr.  van der Eisler, 'and see if she can
find someone you'd like to be with when she's not there.  "

"Olivia," Nel cried happily.

"You wouldn't would you?  Oh, do say yes."

Mr.  van der Eisler spoke in a smooth voice.

"Olivia has to go back home to her mother and grandmother, Nel."

Olivia watched the small face pucker; any moment now there would be a
storm of tears.

"I dare say," she said loudly, 'that you could come and see me
sometimes--you have lots of holidays.  "

Mevrouw van der Eisler agreed enthusiastically to this.

"What a splendid idea.  We must talk about it while you're here.  But
Tober is here to tell us that dinner is on the table--I'm sure that you
must be hungry."

They dined in the splendour of a room at the back of the house, with
high windows looking out over what Olivia supposed was the garden.  The
furniture was massive and old, and its walls were hung with rather dark
portraits of handsome ancestors, staring down at the celery soup, the
roast duck and the elaborate iced confection offered in Nel's honour.

Conversation flowed easily but they didn't linger at the table.  Nel
was sleepy by now, and Olivia suggested that she should take her up to
bed.

"Of course," agreed Mevrouw van der Eisler, 'but come down as soon as
you can and have your coffee.  "

So Olivia went upstairs with Nel, ran her bath while she undressed,
sponged her briskly, towelled her dry and popped her into bed, already
almost asleep.  Even when she was free to go back downstairs she
hesitated--mother and son might wish to talk together, and she had no
idea how long he was staying; he had said nothing to Nel when she had
kissed him goodnight.  She pottered round her room, putting on more
lipstick and taking it off again, and finally went slowly down the
staircase.

Mr.  van der Eisler was in the hall, shrugging himself into his
overcoat.

"There you are," he said cheerfully, 'just in time to say goodbye.  "

His words fell like so many stones.  She summoned a steady voice.

"I hope you have an easy trip back," she said brightly.

"Has it stopped snowing?"

"No, and isn't likely to for a few days, but you'll be cosy enough
here.  As soon as Rita and I have had a chance to talk I'll let you
know what has been decided."  He came towards her and took her hand.

"I'm grateful to you, Olivia, but I won't keep you longer than is
absolutely necessary.  This is a sorry business, but Nel's happiness is
important.  At the same time one must admit that her mother has every
right to her own life, but I think I can solve that for her."

Well, of course he could, thought Olivia pettishly;

he had only to marry the woman and everyone, except herself of course,
would be happy.

She said in a cool, sedate voice, "I'll take good care of Nel, Mr.  van
der Eisler," then edged away from him, relieved to see his mother
coming from the drawing-room.

"You'll phone me, Haso?"  said that lady.

"I shall be glad to see a satisfactory end to this a suitable end too."
She added, "I know Rob was your greatest friend..."

Olivia slipped away into the drawing-room, empty except for the cat,
for Achilles was returning with his master.  Tober came in with fresh
coffee, smiling and nodding, and she smiled and nodded back, her ears
stretched to hear the heavy front door close.  If she saw Mr.  van der
Eisler again it would be briefly, to discuss her and Nel's return to
England.  She might as well begin forgetting him from that moment.

The door opened and he crossed the room with rapid strides, swung her
round, kissed her hard and quickly and, without a single word, went
away again.

She heard the door close with a dull thud and a moment later his mother
came back to join her.

So much for forgetting him, reflected Olivia foggily.  Now I'll have to
start all over again.

CHAPTER EIGHT

mevrouw van der eisler glanced at Olivia as she sat down.

"Oh, good, Tober brought fresh coffee.  We'll have a cup and talk about
Nel.  I love having her here but I am grateful for someone to look
after her.  We've always got on well--she's a dear child, isn't she?
But just with me she might get bored.

Lucidly Haso's young brother will be home for a few days--he's in his
last year at Leiden.  I've two daughters also--perhaps Haso didn't tell
you?  --both married, one in Canada and the other in Limburg.  Dirk is
twenty-four, determined to be as successful as Haso.  He'll be company
for you too.  You haven't brothers or sisters?  "

Olivia found herself being put through a gentle catechism regarding her
own life.  The questions were put so kindly and the answers listened to
with so much sympathy that she discovered that she didn't mind.

All the same, she skirted lightly round her lack of a job and the fact
that living with Granny wasn't ideal, and was glad when her hostess
began to talk about the house.

"It's very old," she observed.

"There was a house before this one--one of my husband's ancestors was a
merchant with the East India Company.  He made a fortune and pulled the
old house down and built this one about two hundred years ago, but the
grounds are very much as they were before he did that.  Of course, the
house belongs to Haso, but he has to spend a great deal of his time
either in Amsterdam or travelling.  When he marries I shall move to a
smaller town-house we own in Leeuwarden."

Three homes, thought Olivia wistfully, and said brightly, "He must have
his work cut out keeping an eye on three houses."

"Yes.  Of course he has Becky in London, who is a most capable woman,
and Bronger and Ofke in Amsterdam have run the house for his father
before him.  Tober and Anke have been here all their lives, and I see
to the business side of this place when he isn't here."

"He's very fortunate to have such faithful people working for him."

"Indeed, they would cheerfully die for him," said Mevrouw van der
Eisler in a matter-of-fact voice.

"As they would have done for his father."

In bed later, Olivia remembered that.  Did Rita, she wondered, realise
what a splendid man she was to marry?  And would she be good to him?
Olivia thumped her pillows and turned over with unnecessary energy.  Of
course she wouldn't.

It was still snowing the next morning.  Olivia, wrapped up in one of
Mevrouw van der Eisler's hooded padded coats and wearing borrowed
wellies, went into the gardens with Nel to make a snowman.  It gave her
the chance to inspect the house from the outside.  It had a solid
front, crowned with a wide gable, with neat rows of windows on either
side of a vast front door and smaller windows higher up across its
face.

Round the back there were two narrow wings, almost enclosing what she
thought might be a lawn once the snow cleared, and at one end a large
conservatory.  There were outbuildings too, and a brick wall, the same
faded colour as the house, running away into the distance.  The fields
around were hardly visible, for the snow was falling steadily and was
already deep underfoot.  The snowman made to Nel's satisfaction, they
went back indoors, through a side entrance, where they took off their
outdoor things and were led by a tolerant Tober to the hall.  They
hurried upstairs, tidied themselves, and went down again.  Olivia, for
one, not sure where to go.

"In here," called Mevrouw van der Eisler from a half-open door at the
back of the hall.

"Did you have a good game?

Come and sit by the fire.  This is the small sitting-room--I spend a
good deal of my time here and you must use it as much as you like.
There is a cupboard over there--Nel knows it, don't you, my dear?
--full of games.  We'll have coffee and then I must go and talk to
Anke. Do make yourself at home, Olivia--go anywhere you wish.  Perhaps
this afternoon I will show you the rest of the house, if you would like
that.  "

"I'd love it," said Olivia.

"You must wish that Mr.  van der Eisler stays single so that you can
live here forever."  She blushed to the roots of her hair.

"I beg your pardon, that was very rude of me."

"Not a bit of it, my dear.  It is to be hoped that his wife won't
object to my paying a visit from time to time."  She smiled.

"Besides, he--and his wife-won't live here all the time.  It might be
too lonely for someone used to big cities."

"But you're not lonely--I wouldn't be either..."  Olivia went red
again.

"Sorry, I just meant that I like the country.

Some people do, some don't.  "

Mevrouw van der Eisler didn't appear to notice her embarrassment.

"One need never be lonely," she observed, 'it's a state of mind, isn't
it?  Now, my dear, when this snow has stopped do you suppose you would
both enjoy a trip to Leeuwarden?  Tober shall drive us there once the
roads are clear.  Do you skate, Olivia?  No?  A pity, but Dirk will be
here tomorrow and he'll enjoy teaching you.  He taught Nel last winter.
We could all go.  "

So the day passed pleasantly, with the promised tour of the house after
lunch, tea round the fire and then card-games with Nel while Mevrouw
van der Eisler sat with her embroidery.  The leisurely wander round the
house had been a delight to Olivia.  It might be severely plain from
the outside but inside it was a pleasant mixture of dignified
high-ceilinged rooms, beautifully furnished with antiques but still
having the air of homeliness, and smaller rooms, dark- panelled,
reached by narrow passages, steps up or steps down, with small latticed
windows, and all of them in use.  The kitchen was vast, with a great
Aga along one wall, an old-fashioned dresser facing it, laden with
plates and dishes, and a long table with wooden chairs round it.  Anke
was there, and another woman, cutting up vegetables at the sink.  They
both beamed at Olivia and shook hands before she was swept on to look
at pantries, dairy and a larder.

"Of course we don't really need these rooms now that we have a
refrigerator," said Mevrouw van der Eisler, 'but the grandchildren love
to play hide-and- seek down here.  That door leads to the garden and
that staircase in the wall leads to the attics.  We don't use those
either--only the children love to go there.  "

Dirk arrived the next morning, shortly after breakfast.  He was very
like Haso--just as tall, but not as heavily built, and he laughed a lot
more.  He shook Olivia's hand, swung Nel in the air and declared that
he would stay for several days.

"I've just taken some more exams," he explained, 'so I'm entitled to a
holiday.  This snow will stop by tonight so we will get out in the car.
"He smiled at Olivia.

"You're not nervous?"

"No, although as I've never been driven by you I can't be quite sure,
can I?"

He gave a shout of laughter.

"I say, we're going to get on, you and I--trust old Haso to find
someone as pretty as you."

They were sitting at the table in the small sitting- room, playing
Snakes and Ladders with Nel.  It seemed to Olivia that they had known
each other for years.  He was younger than she and she felt like a big
sister towards him, and he made her laugh.  She threw the dice and they
all laughed when she had to take her counter all the way down a snake
and start again.

"I like you.  Dirk," said Nel.

"I like Uncle Haso best, of course, but you're very nice."

He gave a mock-sigh.

"It's always the same.  I wear myself out being charming and amusing,
and Haso doesn't do anything at all and everyone falls about trying to
catch his attention.  What did you do to catch his critical eye,
Olivia?"

He had asked jokingly but when he glanced up and saw her face he said
quickly, "But of course you are so beautiful that you do not need to
catch anyone's attention, is that not so, Nel?"  He made a great show
of throwing the dice.

"I

expect Olivia has some glamorous job waiting for her--we shall see her
on the front page of the ladies' magazines, all gloss and pearls.  "

They all laughed and the awkward little moment was over, but much later
that day, when Dirk and his mother were sitting together having a talk
before going to their beds, he said, "Mama, does Haso like Olivia?"

"Why, yes, dear."  She looked at him without surprise at his
question.

"Well, I said something today--oh, teasing--and it seemed to me that
Olivia..."

"Yes, dear, she is, I feel sure, and she would be so right for Haso,
but he has never allowed his feelings to show, has he?  And now we have
this upset with Nel and Rita.  To an outsider the solution is so
plain--let him marry Rita, who I suspect would like that very much, and
make Nel a happy child again.  You see, he and Rob were such friends;
Haso may feel that he should do this--that it is his duty."

Dirk got up and prowled around the room.

"They were friends, so would Rob have wanted Haso to be unhappy for the
rest of his life?  He could manage Rita because he loved her, but I
doubt if Haso loves her."  He kicked a footstool out of his way.

"Olivia doesn't say much about her life.  Is it a happy one?"

"From what Haso has told me, and he knows very little, I believe, she
lives with her mother and a rather terrible grandmother, who gave them
a home when her father died and never ceases to remind them of the
fact.  He told me that he had been to her home once or twice and it was
obvious that her grandmother dislikes Olivia.  Her mother is a small,
dainty woman, very gentle and quiet, and Olivia hasn't taken after her.
That has annoyed the old lady.  And of course Olivia has had no
training for a career of any sort."

"I'm surprised that she isn't married."

"She was engaged, I believe, although Haso told me nothing more than
that."

"How long is Nel to stay here?"

"Until Haso and Rita have solved the problem.  Nel is quite happy to go
back to school and stay with her grandmother in England, she's devoted
to her, but each time she comes here to stay with her mother she
becomes most unhappy.  It is not my place to criticise Rita but it is a
pity that she has to leave the child with someone whom Nel doesn't
like.  It was quick thinking on Haso's part to persuade Olivia to come
here to look after Nel."

"Is she being paid?"

His mother looked surprised.

"I have no idea.  Why do you ask?"

"Her clothes are hardly this year's fashion, are they?  Good, but
well-worn."

"You're right, of course.  I noticed that her things were useful rather
than fashionable; I thought she had brought suitable clothes for the
job and the time of year."

"I'm surprised Haso hasn't noticed..."

Haso had noticed.  Indeed, he was so conscious of every aspect of
Olivia that he knew to the last button what she was wearing and that it
was well cared-for, out of date and had been chosen with an eye to
hard- wearing qualities rather than fashion.  Beyond a wish to see her
dressed in the kind of clothes her beauty merited, he would have found
her just as enchanting in a potato sack.  He thought about her a great
deal while he saw his patients, operated and did his ward- rounds, and
he thought about her when he was at Rita's flat, doing his best to
persuade her to give up her job and make a home for Nel.

"But the child's quite happy at that school, and what would I do while
she's away?"

"Find somewhere to live in England.  You don't need the money, Rita."

"I would be bored to death of course, if I lived in a town and had a
social life..."  She paused and smiled at him, and met a blank mask
which told her nothing.

"Well, I have no intention of giving up my job," she said pettishly.

"It's fun, I meet lots of interesting people and I go out a lot I must
have some fun, Haso, I'm young still and I've been told I'm pretty. You
can't expect me to spend the rest of my life being a housewife, just
with Nel for company."

"You will remarry, Rita."

She said at once, "If that's a proposal, Haso, I will accept at
once."

He remained unperturbed.

"It wasn't.  I shall be going to Tierjum this weekend.  Would you like
to come with me?

You could spend some time with Nel.  "

"Darling Haso, I'm flying to Paris to spend the weekend with friends. I
can't possibly put it off at such short notice.

Give Nel my love, won't you, and tell her I'll come and see her soon.
Shouldn't she go back to school?  "

"When you decide what is to be done, yes.  Have you dismissed that
woman with the wart?"

"Juffrouw Schalk?  Of course not.  She's a splendid housekeeper and I'd
be lost without her.  Nel must learn to like her.  The child's
spoilt."

"Would you object if Nel were to live permanently with her grandmother
in England?  You could, of course, visit whenever you wished?"

"It might be a good idea.  I'll think about it.  Now, can we stop this
disagreeable talk and go somewhere and have a drink?  It's barely nine
o'clock..."

"I have to go back to hospital.  I'm operating tomorrow, going to
Rotterdam on the following day and then to Friesland.  Let me know if
you change your mind, Rita."

She reached up to kiss his cheek.

"Darling Haso, we would make a lovely pair, you know."  She spoke
laughingly, watching him closely.  His small, indifferent smile
infuriated her.

Mr.  van der Eisler left directly after breakfast on the Saturday
morning and drove himself through the snowy landscape to Tierjum,
Achilles sitting beside him.  The snow had ceased and the sky for the
moment was a cold blue and pale sunlight gave an illusion of warmth. 
He wondered what Olivia was doing, and then dismissed her from his mind
while he reflected on Nel's future.  He was no nearer a solution by the
time he turned the Bentley into the drive and saw the house ahead of
him.  He stopped on the sweep and got out, smiling at the sounds of
laughter from somewhere behind it.  With a warning to Achilles not to
bark he walked to the side of the house, making no sound in the thick
snow, and went unhurriedly along the shrub-lined path until he reached
the vast lawn at the back.  Covered now, with snow, of course.  Nel and
Olivia and Dirk were there, building a snowman and making a good deal
of noise about it, stopping to throw snowballs at each other.  Mr.  van
der Eisler stood for a moment, watching them, a hand on Achilles' great
head, and as he watched Nel flung a snowball at Olivia, who ducked,
slipped, and would have fallen if Dirk hadn't put out an arm and caught
her.  They stood for a moment, his arm around her shoulders, completely
at ease with one and other.

It wasn't until Nel caught sight of Haso that they turned to see him.

Achilles bounded forward, barking happily, and Nel rushed to hug her
uncle.  Dirk started forward too, shouting a welcome.

Only Olivia hung back.  The glorious surprise at seeing him again had
left her with a thumping heart and no breath.

Dirk said over one shoulder, "Look who's here, Olivia--come and say
hello."

She went over to him then, and said, "Hello, Mr.  van der Eisler," but
anything else she might have said died on her tongue.  His, "Hello,
Olivia," was pleasant, but he looked at her with eyes like blue ice.
What had she done?  she wondered in panic, searching his bland face for
some sign.  But it showed nothing.  Only his eyes betrayed the fact
that he was angry-Five minutes later she decided that she had imagined
it; he was throwing snowballs like a schoolboy, with Nel capering
around him and Achilles barking his head off.  It was Dirk who called
to her, "Olivia, be an angel and tell Mama that Haso's here--we'll be
in presently for coffee."

She nodded and sped away, glad to be gone.  Was Haso here for the
weekend?  she wondered.  And had anything been decided about Nel?

She found Mevrouw van der Eisler sitting placidly in her sitting-room,
writing letters.  She got up from her writing-desk, beaming.

"I wasn't expecting him--he usually phones.  How delightful.

Alike must get the coffee at once.  Where is he?  "

"In the garden snowballing."

"Then fetch him in, my dear, if you will, and tell him to see that
Achilles' paws are wiped."

They were still racing around; she went and stood in the middle,
ducking the snow.  Her face glowed with the exercise, her bright hair
almost hidden in the hood of one of Mevrouw van der Eisler's all
enveloping gardening coats.

Mr.  van der Eisler thought that she had never looked so beautiful.  It
was inevitable that Dirk should fall for her;

he was a young man her own age.  And she had looked so happy when she
had turned round.  Dirk's arm around her shoulders.

They all went indoors, and when they had had coffee Olivia took Nel off
on the pretext of choosing what frock she should wear that evening,
since she was to be allowed to sit up for dinner for a treat.

"Such a tactful girl," said Mevrouw van der Eisler.

"Nice, quiet manners and so kind and thoughtful.  I am so surprised
that she is not married."

Haso stirred his coffee.

"She had a fiance.  He married another girl we went to his wedding."

"You did?"  Dirk gave a chuckle.

"The pair of you?  Not top hat and morning coat?"

"Indeed, yes."  Haso spoke lightly.

"We drove there in the Bentley and Olivia had a charming hat..."

"But why...?"  asked his mother.

"Oh, keeping one's end up showing the flag."  He smiled.

"I

enjoyed it.  " He put down his cup.

"I've seen Rita several times.  She is unwilling to give up her job, in
fact she refuses, and she also refuses to get rid of Juffrouw Schalk.

If possible I'll bring her up here next weekend, when I think she must
decide what she wants.  "

"Does she plan to marry again?"  asked his mother.

Dirk said quickly, "Of course she does--she wants to marry you,
Haso."

"Yes."  Mr.  van der Eisler spoke calmly.

"But I have no intention of marrying her."

His mother kept an admirable silence and flashed a warning glance at
Dirk.

"Well," she said presently, "I'm glad to know that, Haso, for Rita is
very much a career-woman.

Indeed, I have wondered if Rob could have coped with her if he were
still alive.  "

"She seems very successful," said Haso, noncommittally, "It is a
question as to whether Nel is more important to her than her career. We
shall have to see if she and Nel can compromise."

Nel came in then with Olivia, and he got up out of his chair.

"I must do some phoning.  Let me know if I am upsetting any plans for
the afternoon."

"We haven't made any," said Dirk when he had gone out of the room.

"But since he's here with that great car of his how about all of us
piling in and doing some sightseeing?"

"In this weather?"  asked his mother.

"It's just the weather to see Friesland, and Olivia may not get another
chance.  We could drive to Sneek and see the lakes and then go north up
to the Wadden Zee.  Would you like that, Nel?"

Of course Net would like it, and so would Olivia,

only she restrained her enthusiasm, merely remarking that it sounded
very interesting.

"We'll take Achilles," said Dirk, 'he can sit between us.

Nel and Olivia must sit with Haso so that he can point out all the
interesting sights.  "

Olivia opened her mouth to protest but he stopped her.

"Haso knows every stick and stone in these parts, and you won't get
another chance."

"Perhaps another time?"  suggested Olivia, anxious not to look too
eager.

"No hope of that.  He's bringing Rita with him next weekend and she
hates Friesland--too cold and empty."

He didn't say any more for Nel, who had gone to the other end of the
room to play with Achilles, had joined them again.

Haso came back presently and they sat around, carrying on a desultory
conversation over their sherry, and presently they went to lunch.

Over that meal.  Dirk broached his plans for the afternoon.

"I'll drive," he offered, 'if you're tired.  "

"On the contrary, driving relaxes me.  I think it is a very good idea.
When do we go?"

Olivia, nervous at the idea of being with Mr.  van der Eisler for hours
on end and at the same time overjoyed at the prospect, settled beside
him in the car with a cautious air which secretly amused him.  She need
not have worried; the outing was a tremendous success.  He took the
road to Sneek, going south until they reached the little town, and then
driving along narrow country roads, still covered by snow, so that she
might see the lakes, frozen now, although not yet safe for skating.  He
joined a main road presently and, when they were almost back in
Leeuwarden, turned north.

"Dokkum, I think," he observed.

"A nice old town--we might stop there and have coffee and then take a
quick look at Lauwers Meer."  He glanced at Olivia.

"You're comfortable?"

"Yes, oh, yes, thank you.  It's beautiful, isn't it?  So still and
everything covered by snow.  Is it always like this in the winter?"

"Not always, but usually we have snow during the winter."  He looked
over his shoulder at Dirk.

"When did we last go skating for more than a few days?"

"Two years ago--last year the ice didn't hold.  We might get a day in
before these two go back.  Do you skate, Olivia?"

"No--at least, roller-skating, but I don't think that's the same, is
it?"

"But you can balance--it should be easy.  Here's Dokkum.

We'll have coffee at de Posthoom.  "

Olivia was enchanted by the little town, with its canal running through
its centre and the old houses leaning against each other on either side
of it.  The hotel was very old and shabby, in a nice way, and when she
asked for tea instead of coffee she was served a glass of hot water and
a tea-bag.  Nel, drinking hot chocolate, thought it was very funny,
chattering away happily, the very picture of a contented small girl.

It was cold outside and there was no one much about; Nel walked between
the two men, skipping and jumping over the snow, and Mr.  van der
Eisler drew Olivia close and tucked her hand under his arm.

There wasn't much to see and it was too cold to stand about so they
went briskly back to the car, stopping on the way to buy four pokes of
potatfrites with generous dollops of pickles on top, which they sat and
ate in the car.

Mr.  van der Eisler, offering Achilles the last of the chips, said, "It
must be years since I ate these.  I'd forgotten how delicious they
are."

Olivia poised the last of the pickle on a chip and took a bite.

"Why don't we do this in England?"  she wanted to know, and glanced at
Nel with a warm smile.  The child was so happy--it was a pity she had
to go away from all this kindness and fun.  It was a pity, too, she
reflected, that she had to go as well.

She wasn't going to let such thoughts sadden her, though.

Dirk was fun but Haso was a perfect companion; she could have sat for
hours on end beside him while he drove.  It was strange, she thought,
that she felt so at ease with him when by rights she should have been
feeling awkward, spending hours in the company of a man she loved but
who treated her with kindly indifference and at the same time,

she had to admit, made sure of her comfort.  He would do that anyway,
she reminded herself, for his manners were impeccable.  She had a
fleeting uneasy memory of the icy stare he had given her when he had
arrived that morning.  She had taken care not to meet his eyes since
then and she wondered if they were still as cold.

They were still going north, this time to the coast.  The villages were
few and far between but the road was clear of snow, although the fields
on either side were white as far as her eye could see.

"What do people do here?"  she asked.

"Shrimp-fishing and a big fish auction at Zoutkamp.  We're going round
the Wadden Meer-- Zoutkamp is on the farther side.  Actually we are on
the border of Groningen and Friesland, but we turn to the west
presently and then we are back in Friesland again.  We'll take the road
through Engwierum and pick up the El0 at Buitenpost."

It was almost dark by the time they got back, to be welcomed by Mevrouw
van der Eisler with piping-hot coffee in the lovely drawing-room.  Nel
was tired and a little excited, and wanted to stay up for dinner again,
but Haso said no in the nicest possible way, which gave Olivia the
chance to suggest that supper in bed might be quite fun.

"If you'll stay with me," demanded Nel.

"If you promise to eat every scrap and go to sleep afterwards."

"We are all going to church in the morning," said Mr.  van der Eisler
cheerfully, 'and after lunch we might take Achilles for a walk.  You'd
like that?  "

The next day's plans having been made, Olivia bore Nel upstairs and,
presently bathed, and, by then quite sleepy, the child sat up in her
pretty room, her supper on a tray before her.  A very tasty supper
too--little pastry tarts filled with creamed chicken, a few
potatfrites, the merest suggestion of carrot puree and to follow this a
little dish of poffertjes--tiny, crisp pancakes, smothered in fine
sugar.  The glass of warm milk which accompanied these dainties was
drunk almost unnoticed and without any persuasion on Olivia's part.  It
only remained for her to take away the tray and tuck the little girl
in, kiss her goodnight and turn on the little night light--a small
comfort which it seemed Juffrouw Schalk had vetoed.

In her room Olivia showered and got into the one dress she had brought
with her.  It was a pretty shade of blue, plainly made of good
material, and hopelessly out of date.

"Not that it matters," she muttered, bundling up her hair in a ruthless
fashion.

A discreet tap on the door surprised her.  It was Tober with the
request that she should join the professor in his study at her
convenience.

"I'll come now," said Olivia.  Of course he was going to tell her when
she was to go back to England with Nel--or without the child?  Hadn't
he said that Rita was to accompany him when he came the following
weekend? So they hadn't decided about Nel yet.  She slowed her
steps--or they had decided, and Nel was to stay with her mother and he
and she were to marry.

Her head full of muddled thoughts, she knocked on the study door.

Mr.  van der Eisler was sitting behind his desk with the faithful
Achilles beside him.  He got up as she went in.

"Come and sit here, nearer the fire," he invited.

"You must find it colder here than in London."

"Well, yes, but it's a nice cold, isn't it?  Dry and bright."

She sat down, her hands still in her lap, and waited for him to speak.
He sat back in his chair, watching her.  He thought she looked
beautiful in the dull blue dress.

"You're happy here, Olivia?"

"Yes, thank you."

"So is Nel, but of course matters cannot remain as they are, you
realise that?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any plans as to your future?  A job in mind?"

She shook her head.

"No, but of course as soon as I get home I'll find something to do.
Miss Cross promised me a good reference--for a similar post, you
know."

"But it is too late for such a job until the summer term, surely?"

She had hoped he wouldn't think of that.

"Well, yes, but it would be nice to be at home with my mother for a
little while."

He smiled.

"My dear girl, do you take me for a fool?  I have met your grandmother
and am only too aware that living with her is by no means ideal for you
or for your mother."

She said coldly, "You have no need to bother v/ith my affairs, Mr.  van
der Eisler."  She met his gaze.

"I am quite able to manage my own life."

His smile widened.

"You wouldn't consider working over here in Holland?"

She was too surprised to speak for a moment.

"Here, in Holland?  What as?  I haven't any skills."

"There is plenty of work for someone like yourself."  But she only
shook her head, and after a moment he said, "I shall be bringing Nel's
mother here next weekend--her future must be settled before any other
matter can be considered.  Once that is decided you and I can talk."

"What about?"  asked Olivia.

"Why, you and I, Olivia."  He got up.

"Shall we join the others for a drink before dinner?"

As they walked across the hall he asked idly, "You get on well with
Dirk?"

A straightforward remark she could answer.

"Oh, yes, he's a dear, isn't he?  If I'd had a brother I would have
liked him to be just like Dirk.  He's very young still, isn't he?  All
those girlfriends."

"Something all men experience when they are young."

She stood still for a moment.

"You too?"

"Certainly.  It smooths the rough edges, as it were, while waiting for
the one woman in the world..."

"She might not come."

"Oh, but she does.  Make no mistake about that."  He was looking at her
very intently and she looked away.  He was thinking of Rita, no
doubt.

They all went to church in the morning, standing in a row in the family
pew, Olivia with one arm round Nel, her other shoulder wedged against
Haso's vast person.  The hymns were familiar, even though the words
meant nothing to her, and the dominee thundered his sermon from the
pulpit in what she considered a very severe manner, but when she was
introduced to him as they left she found him to be a mild man with a
splendid knowledge of English and a friendly manner.

They ate their lunch and then got back into their outdoor things and
took Nel for a walk, with Achilles racing to and fro.  Haso and Dirk
talked comfortably of the village and the country round them and never
mentioned Rita once.

Mr.  van der Eisler was to leave after tea.  They all went into the
hall to see him off but Olivia slipped back into the drawing-room when
she thought no one was looking--after all, she wasn't one of the
family.

Of course Haso had seen her; he made his goodbyes, kissed and hugged
Nel, and went back into the drawing-room.

"Are you not going to wish me goodbye?"  he wanted to know.

She had retreated to the window overlooking the garden.

"I

hope you have a good drive back," she told him soberly, 'and a
successful week."

"Certainly it will be a busy one."  He crossed the room to stand close
by her.

"When I come again everything should be settled.  Until then you do
understand, do you not, that there is nothing I can say."

About working in Holland?  she wondered, and raised a puzzled face to
his.  He stared down at her for a long moment.

"And so much for my good resolutions," said Mr.  van der Eisler in a
goaded voice, and swept her into his arms and kissed her soundly.

Even if she had intended to demur she had no chance.  He had gone
before she had got her breath back.

CHAPTER NINE

olivia stood where he had left her, her heart galloping along at a
great rate.  As well as surprise, happiness was welling up and
threatening to choke her.  Why had he kissed her, and in such a manner?
And what had he meant about good resolutions?

She allowed her thoughts to become daydreams, standing there in the
centre of the room until the others, returning, shook them free.

"The house always seems so empty when Haso isn't here," said Dirk.

"A pity I shan't be here next week to see him--and Rita."

"You will stay for another day or two?"  asked his mother.

"Oh, yes.  I need to be back in Leiden on Wednesday--I'm starting that
new course then."

"But you are qualified?"  asked Olivia, glad of something to talk
about.

"Oh, yes, but by no means finished.  I can't hope to be as brilliant as
Haso, but I shall do my best to uphold the family name."  | "Surgery or
medicine?"  | "Oh, surgery, it's in the blood, you know, generations of
us."  He saw Nel's downcast face.

"Who's | for a game of Ludo?"

196 I

Two days later she saw him drive away with real regret.  He had been an
amusing companion and delightful with Nel, and he had made her laugh,
something she rarely did at her grandmother's home.  She was honest
enough to admit to herself that even if he had done none of these
things she would have liked him because he was Haso's brother, and
anything or anyone close to Haso was close to her too.

There were several days before Haso would come again and there was Nel
to keep happy.  Because she thought it would please him, she did her
best to persuade Nel to live with her mother during her holidays.  She
didn't have much success, but she persevered.

The snow had ceased several days ago although it still lay thick on the
ground.  The sky was a cold blue and the sun shone, albeit just as cold
as the sky.  They wrapped themselves up and went walking, and one day
Mevrouw van der Eisler took them to Leeuwarden, with Tober driving.

They had lunch at a large restaurant--Onder de Luifel--and then they
went to the shops and Olivia, with woefully few coins in her purse,
bought two small vases in the local pottery, wishing that she had had
the money to buy some of the silverware--delicate spoons, small bon-bon
dishes and silver wire brooches.  Her companion admired the vases and
wished that Haso had done something about paying Olivia.

After all, the poor girl had been whisked over to Holland at a moment's
notice, with no chance to go to a bank.  Perhaps, thought Mevrouw van
der Eisler, she hadn't got a bank.  Haso would be vexed when he knew
about it.

Having more than enough money himself, he nevertheless was thoughtful
of the needs of other people.  Too generous, she reflected, remembering
the money Rita had borrowed from him from time to time and never
repaid.  Even with the money Rob had left her, and her well-paid job,
she never had enough to pay for all the expensive clothes she loved.

Olivia viewed the approaching weekend with some anxiety; so did his
mother.  True, Haso had said that he had no intention of marrying Rita,
but she was a clever young woman--pretty and amusing, and charming when
she wished to be.  Olivia longed to see Haso again but she doubted if
they would be together at all--and how was she to behave?  As though he
hadn't kissed her?  As though she had found it an amusing episode and
dismissed it as such?  And would he tell her when she was to return to
England?  Whatever was decided, surely Nel would have to go back to
school as soon as possible?

And, worst of all, had Rita coerced him into marrying her?

She lay wakeful, wondering about that.  If, she reflected, I had been
someone like Rita, would he have fallen in love with me and married me?
She thought that he might.  Given the right clothes and background she
would have competed with Rita quite happily and probably won.  She
shook up the big square pillows and closed her eyes.  Negative
thinking, she told herself sternly, gets you nowhere, my girl.

She took Nel down to the village to buy sweets on Saturday morning
because to wait in the house for Haso and Rita was too nerve-racking.
Far better for them to return after they had arrived when any
awkwardness would be glossed over in the bustle of greetings.  Mevrouw
van der Eisler, when consulted, had agreed.

"The child's on edge.  I do hope that Rita has agreed to Haso's
proposal and that everything is arranged satisfactorily."

Proposal, thought Olivia unhappily, but she went off with Nel and spent
a long time in the village shop buying toffee.

When they got back the Bentley was in front of the house and at the
sight of it Nel's small fingers curled tightly around Olivia's hand.

"We'll go and say hello quickly," said Olivia, 'and then go and tidy
ourselves.  It will soon be time for lunch.  "

"It will be nice to see Uncle Haso again," said Nel in a very small
voice.

"And Mummy.  I'm sure she's excited at seeing you again."

Nel gave her an old-fashioned look.

"Don't be silly," she said.

They went round the house to one of the side doors and got out of their
wellies and outdoor things.  Olivia was of two minds as to whether to
creep up the back stairs and do something to their ruffled persons
before going to the drawing-room, but Anke had seen them and swept them
along, lecturing them sternly in her own tongue and flinging the
drawing-room door wide.

They stood on the threshold and the persons gathered there turned to
look at them.

Mevrouw van der Eisler and her son spoke at the same time.

"Good, here you are, my dears," and "You've been to the village to buy
toffee," said Mr.  van der Eisler, and tossed a delighted Nel into the
air and gave Olivia the briefest of smiles.

Rita didn't get up from her chair but held out her arms.

"Nel, how very untidy you are.  I don't think Olivia can be a very good
nanny.  Come here and give me a kiss."

And when the child went reluctantly she put her arms around her.

"Have you missed me?"

"Olivia is a very good nanny," said Nel in a shaky voice, 'and she's
not a nanny, she's a person.  Like you or Granny or Mevrouw van der
Eisler.  "

Her mother said impatiently, "Yes, yes, of course she is.

Now go away and have your hair brushed and your hands washed.  Why is
there a bulge in your cheek?  What are you eating?  "

"Toffee.  The village shop..."

"Yes, yes, never mind that now.  It's almost time for lunch and then
Uncle Haso is going to talk to you."

All this time she had ignored Olivia who, in response to Mevrouw van
der Eisler's beckoning finger, had gone to sit by her.  Mr.  van der
Eisler, in his chair again with Achilles beside him, took no part in
the conversation.  What his thoughts were could be anybody's guess.

Well, we will know soon enough, thought Olivia, and I for one can't get
back home soon enough.  She was aware that this idea had no vestige of
truth in it;

to go back to England never seeing Haso again wasn't to be borne and,
worse, the thought of his marrying Rita made her feel sick.

The woman looked so right against the background of the lovely old
house--casual tweeds, costing the earth, boots of leather as supple as
silk, a cashmere jumper, hair with not a single strand out of place,
perfect make-up.  She and Nel went upstairs and the child dawdled
around, reluctant to go downstairs again.  Olivia, ruthlessly tugging
tangles out of her own hair, knew exactly how she was feeling.  Mr. 
van der Eisler's aloof air boded ill for their future.

"Uncle Haso won't make me go back to that horrid lady, will he?"  Nel
whispered.

Olivia put a comforting arm round her.

"Your Uncle Haso loves you; he won't let you be unhappy.  Whatever he
decides will be right, my pet."

"But you'll go away..."

"Yes, and you'll go back to school, and I'll come and see you, I
promise."

"Are you sad?"

The question was unexpected.

"Sad?  Me?  No, dear, why should I be sad?"

"Your face looks sad."

"I dare say that's because I'm hungry."  She would have to remember to
look cheerful.  "Let's go down."

Lunch was eaten without haste and the conversation was of the general
kind so that everyone took part in it.  Olivia, aware of Mr.  van der
Eisler' ssharp gaze, smiled when she wasn't actually eating.  It must
have looked pretty foolish but at least she didn't look sad.  She
replied politely when Rita spoke to her, agreed with her host that the
weather had been quite pleasant during the week and tried to ignore
Rita's snappy asides to Nel, whose table manners weren't quite
perfect--hardly to be expected at her age.

Rita wasn't snappy with Haso.  On the contrary, she was amusing and
attentive to his every word, looking at him with a sweet smile which
Olivia longed to wipe off her face.  A man--any man-would be flattered
by her obvious interest in him and the inviting looks she gave him.

Mr.  van der Eisler, of course, wasn't any man.  He was the perfect
host--attentive, carrying the talk effortlessly from one topic to
another--and all the time he was aware of Olivia, sitting there saying
little, avoiding his eyes, outwardly serene, inwardly, he had no doubt,
seething.

"Shall we have coffee in the drawing-room?  Perhaps Nel would like to
go and see what Anke is doing in the kitchen?  Cakes for tea, no
doubt..."

Nel escaped willingly, enough but when Olivia started to go with her
she was asked if she would be good enough to go to the drawing-room
too.

"For this concerns you, Olivia," he told her.

Mevrouw van der Eisler was pouring the coffee when the phone on the
table by his chair rang.  He listened without speaking and even when he
did, at some length, Olivia was none the wiser, for he spoke in Dutch,
but she could see by the concern on his mother's face that it wasn't
good news.

He put the phone down presently.

"This is most unfortunate;

I have to return to Amsterdam at once.  Even if I should operate this
afternoon I shan't be able to leave my patient until tomorrow morning
at the earliest.  We must delay our talk until then.  "

Rita pouted, but his mother said placidly, "We quite understand, dear.
I hope you will be in time."

He was already on his feet.

"They'll keep me informed--the phone's in the car.  I'll let you know
how things are as soon as possible."

He kissed his mother, said briefly, "You'll stay, Rita?"  And to
Olivia, "Don't worry, leave everything to me.  Kiss Nel for me."

"What a lot can happen in five minutes," said Olivia.

Mevrouw van der Eisler smiled at her.

"Yes, my dear.  Being married to someone in the medical profession
isn't easy but you get used to it."

"There's no need for it," said Rita.

"If Haso will work for all these hospitals instead of just keeping his
private patients--heaven knows, he's famous enough to do what he
likes."

"I don't think it has anything to do with fame," said Olivia,
forgetting to whom she was talking.

"It's something he does because he wants to do it.  I don't suppose he
notices if it's a V.I.P or someone without a farthing to their name;
they're patients and he knows how to help them..."

"What sentimental nonsense," said Rita.

"Though if I heard aright this patient is a V.I.P."

"Yes," agreed Mevrouw van der Eisler, 'but if it had been a beggar off
the street Haso would have gone just the same.  "

"Oh, I'm sorry," cried Rita.

"You must think me a heartless creature.  I know how good Haso
is--better than most people, I believe, for he has taken such care of
me."  She smiled sweetly, "And now we cannot tell you our plans until
he returns."

She became all at once a changed person, listening with interest to
what her hostess had to say, talking about Nel's school, asking Olivia
if she had enjoyed working there.

Olivia didn't trust her an inch.

Nel came in presently.

"Tober says that you are going to the church to do the flowers,
Mevrouw.  May I go with you?

Please?  I'll be very good, and Tober said perhaps you'll let me sit in
front with him.  "

"The flowers--I had quite forgotten."  Mevrouw van der Eisler looked at
Rita.

"Perhaps you would like to come with us?  It will pass the time."

"If I may," gushed Rita, "I'll stay here.  If I might use your desk?  I
have so many letters to write; this is a chance to do them in peace."

"And you, Olivia?"

"I shall need to sort out Nel's clothes before we go back--I'd be glad
of an hour or two to do that."

"Run along, then, darling."  Rita was the loving mother.

"I'm sure Olivia will help you with your things..."

"Why not, since we are both going upstairs," observed Olivia airily.

She sent Nel downstairs again presently, suitably dressed, and followed
after a minute or two to stand at the door and wave goodbye as Tober
drove away with Nel, as pleased as Punch, sitting beside him.

She went back to Nel's room, for there was little point in joining
Rita, who wouldn't expect it anyway.  She had just finished making neat
little piles of clothes and putting them on the bed ready to pack when
she looked up to see Rita at the door.

"Olivia, I must talk to you."  She came into the room and sat down on
the chair by the bed.

She looked serious, even worried, and Olivia asked, "Is something the
matter?  Don't you feel well?"

Rita had her hands clenched in her lap.

"I know you don't like me."  She gave a rueful smile.

"Well, I suppose I don't like you, but all the same I can't see you
humiliated..."

Olivia folded a small nightgown.

"Why should I feel humiliated?"  she wanted to know.

"If it's some thing to do with going back to England, I knew I'd be
going as soon as everything was settled between you and Mr.  van der
Eisler."

Rita said slowly, "We are to be married quite soon before Nel has her
Easter holidays.  But you must have guessed that.

It's something .  I'm not sure how to tell you, and probably you won't
believe me, but I beg you to take my word.  "

Olivia sat down on the bed.

"I'm quite in the dark.  Could you explain?"  She was pleased to hear
how steady her voice was, and although her insides were turning
somersaults she looked, she hoped, normal.

"You're in love with Haso, aren't you?"  Rita spoke quietly.

"He didn't realise that at first.  He thinks you are a very nice young
woman and so reliable, and you have been such a help to him to both of
us.  Now he is anxious to spare your feelings, he intended to say
goodbye to you and give you your tickets so that you could leave as
soon as you wished."

She paused.

"I don't expect you believe me, but I should like to help."

"Why?"

"Because I am happy and you are not, and to meet Haso again, knowing
that he pities you... He would never throw your love back in your face,
he is too kind, but you will see the pity..."

Olivia studied Rita's face and had to admit that she looked and sounded
sincere.

"And how would you help me?"

"Haso won't be here until tomorrow morning at the earliest--he is
always near his patient after that special operation he does, until he
feels that he can leave him or her to his registrar.  Would you like to
go back today?  He has your ticket, unfortunately, but I have money
with me.

You could get the boat train to the Hock and get the night ferry.  "
She paused.

"No, perhaps you would rather stay and see him before you go; you will
want to say goodbye."

Olivia didn't see the sly look.  And look up into that loved face and
see the pity and concern there?  Olivia shuddered at the thought.

"I'd like to go today.  I can pack in a few minutes and if you will
lend me the money I'll go home.  What am I to say to Mevrouw van der
Eisler?"

Rita frowned in thought.

"You could say that you weren't well--no, that would sound very silly."
She sat up in her chair.

"Of course--could you not say that you have had a phone call from home?
That you are needed there?  Someone is ill, perhaps?"  She frowned.

"And Nel--she will be unhappy, but of course if she thought you were
going home to look after someone..."

Olivia was suddenly weary of the whole thing.

"Yes, all right.  How am I to get to the train?"

"Mevrouw van der Eisler will send you to Leeuwarden in the car and,
when Haso does come, she will explain.  If you would like it, I will
ask him to write to you."

"No, no, thank you."  Olivia got up.

"I'll just finish seeing to Nel's things--is she to go back to
school?"

"We shall take her in a few days and go to see Lady Brennon."

Olivia nodded.

"I'll pack my things," she said, and Rita got up and went to the
door.

"I'll get the money," she said, and added soberly, "I am so sorry,
Olivia."

When she had gone Olivia sat down on the bed again.  After all it was
only what she had expected.  Well, not quite, she thought.  She hadn't
expected Haso to discuss her with Rita, although that would be natural
enough since they were to marry.  At least Nel would have a loving
stepfather and perhaps Rita would turn into a loving mother.  Perhaps
she had misjudged her.  She swallowed the threatening tears and began
to pack Nel's clothes and, that done, she packed her own.  When Rita
came back presently she took the money she was offered, thanked her
politely, and asked her where she should send it once she was in
England.

"Well, Haso had your ticket, and money for expenses so you don't owe
anyone anything.  Does he owe you any wages?"

"They haven't been mentioned.  So, no, he doesn't."

"You have been here for several weeks.  You can't work for nothing.
Poor dear, he has so much on his mind I'll remind him.  I'm sure he'll
send you what ever is owing."

"No," said Olivia, "I don't want any money.  I would prefer not to..."
She smiled.

"A clean break is the expression."

When Mevrouw van der Eisler came home she had her story ready and,
looking at her stony face, that lady believed her, and so did Nel,
although she was tearful at the idea of Olivia going away so
suddenly.

After that it was easy Tober was warned to have the car ready, there
was tea to be drunk, farewells to be said to the staff, and finally all
the right things to be said to her hostess.

"I've written to Mr.  van der Eisler," said Olivia, 'and put it in his
study.  "

She shook hands with Rita, kissed and hugged Nel, and got into the car
beside Tober.  She didn't look back as he drove out of the grounds and
into the narrow road.

"That was very unexpected," observed Mevrouw van der Eisler.

"I had no idea Olivia's mother was ill.  She did have a phone call?"

"Oh, yes.  She was here with me, asking me about Nel's clothes, when
she took the message.  It was a shock for her.

I believe she is very fond of her mother.  "

"You will, of course, stay here until Haso comes?"

"Oh, yes, of course.  Nel must go back to school as soon as possible
now that we have everything settled."

Mevrouw van der Eisler didn't ask what had been settled.  She picked up
her embroidery and stitched in silence.

Everyone was in bed and the house was quiet when Rita stole downstairs
and took Olivia's letter from Haso's desk.  Later she would read it. 
For the moment it was safe enough in her handbag.

Mevrouw van der Eisler was at breakfast when Haso walked in.

He was his usual elegant self but his face was grey with fatigue.  As
he bent to kiss her cheek in reply to her delighted greeting he
observed, "Coffee--good," and sat down opposite her.

"Where is everyone?"  he wanted to know.

"Nel's in the kitchen, helping Anke make vol-au-vents for lunch.

Rita is in bed--she prefers her breakfast there.  "

"And Olivia?"

His mother buttered a piece of toast.

"At her home in London, dear."

Mr.  van der Eisler, about to take a drink of coffee, put the cup down
again.  His face was as impassive as usual but his eyes were suddenly
bright and alert.

"Oh?  This is sudden.

What has happened?  "

"I phoned you at the hospital, Haso, but you were in Theatre and I
decided that a message might distract you."

"As indeed it would have done," he agreed, al though they both knew
that nothing distracted him from his work even the sudden departure of
the girl he loved.

"There was a reason?"

"She had a phone call while Nel and I were down at the church.  Someone
I don't quite know who was ill and she was needed at home.  When we got
home she was already packed, for Rita had advised her that she would be
able to get the boat train from Leeuwarden and cross over with the
night ferry from the Hock.  I suggested that she phone home again to
find out just what was wrong and then tell you, for you could have
arranged everything for her, but she had made up her mind."

"Was she upset?"  He spoke very quietly.

"Not crying, just stony-faced and very anxious to be gone."

She poured more coffee.

"She told me that she had left a letter for you in your study."

"Ah..."  He went off at once to fetch it, and came back empty-handed.

"You're sure of that, my dear?"

"Positive.  Rita was there, she must have heard her telling me."

Mr.  van der Eisler buttered a roll and took a bite.  He was no longer
hungry, but performing small, everyday acts would help damp down his
rising rage.

He glanced at his watch.

"She won't be home for another two hours at least.  I believe that Rita
and I must have a talk."

His mother said regretfully, "I'm sorry I couldn't stop her, Haso."

His smile was kind.

"Dearest Mama, I'm sure you did your best.  I had already arranged to
take Nel back tomorrow and stay in England for a couple of days..."

"With Rita?"

He smiled slowly.

"With Olivia," he corrected her.  He might have said more but Rita came
into the room, showing all the signs of having dressed hurriedly.  She
tripped across the room, wreathed in smiles.

"Haso, what a lovely surprise we didn't expect you so soon.

I got up and dressed the moment I heard you were here.  "

He had got to his feet, and something in his face stopped her halfway
across the room.  She said quickly, "Isn't it a shame that Olivia had
to go home so suddenly?  I did all I could to help her..."

"Perhaps you will tell me exactly what happened," suggested Haso
softly.

His mother, taking a look at his face and seeing the bottled-up rage
behind its blandness, said quickly, "I'd better go and see Anke about
lunch," and went quickly from the room.  She had no doubt that Rita had
been at the bottom of Olivia's departure and her vague dislike of her
became something stronger.  All the same, she had it in her heart to be
sorry for Rita--Haso in a cold fury was hard to face.

Rita sat down.  She said chattily, "So fortunate that I was
here--Olivia had no money, you know.  I gave her enough to get home."

He ignored this.

"You were here when she had the message?"

She opened her eyes wide.

"Yes, she was so shocked.  She had no idea how to get herself back to
England--so lucky that I was here to advise her.  By the time your
mother was back everything was seen to."

Mr.  van der Eisler, impassive in his chair, spoke pleasantly.

"You have a letter of Olivia's, addressed to me, have you not?  Give it
to me, please."

Rita went red and then white.

"A letter?  I don't know what you're talking about--and why should I
take it?  I haven't got it."

He got up and went to the table by her chair, where she had put her
handbag.  He picked it up, opened it, and turned it upside-down so that
its contents rolled from the table to the floor.  The letter he took,
and walked over to the window to read it, taking no notice of her
indignant cries.

"My lipsticks, my powder compact--it's smashed--and my money's spilled
over the floor."

He gave her a look of utter contempt and opened the envelope.

Olivia hadn't written much and her usually neat handwriting showed
signs of the writer's strong feelings.  He read it quickly and then a
second time, before folding it and putting it in a pocket.

He sat down again and Achilles settled beside him.

"And now, if you please, you will tell me exactly what you have said to
Olivia.  There was no phone message.  That was a tale to tell my
mother, presumably."

Rita said sulkily, "What are you going to do?"  She squeezed out a
tear.

"Drive you back to Amsterdam as soon as you have packed.  You have
decided to let Nel stay at school in England and spend her holidays
with her grandmother so that you may lead your own life.  That decision
rests.  Why did you do this, Rita?"

He sighed.

"And let us have the truth this time."

"That great girl," said Rita nastily, 'and such a fool too.

I only had to tell her that you found it tiresome that she was in love
with you for her to agree to leave at once.  Didn't want to spoil your
happiness.  " She laughed.

"It was such a chance to get rid of her.  Such a pity you had to find
out.  I'd rather set my heart on marrying you, Haso."

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, there are plenty of fish in the sea--you see, what I want is a
rich husband, you understand, who won't interfere with my career."

"What did you tell Olivia?"

"Why, that we were going to be married, of course, that you loved me
and found her an embarrassment."  She glanced at him.

"Don't look at me like that, Haso.  You can't blame me for trying."

He said very evenly, "Go and pack your things, Rita, we will leave in
half an hour."

When she had gone he took Olivia's letter from his pocket and read it
again, and this time he was smiling.

The following day, with Nel beside him, he drove over to England.

Sylvester Crescent looked unwelcoming.  It was drizzling with rain, the
ferry had got in late, and so of course the boat train up to London was
late too.  Olivia was tired and hungry and unhappy, and the sight of
the prim, net-curtained houses depressed her still further.  She got
off the bus at the corner, carried her case to her grandmother's flat
and knocked on its door.

Her mother opened it.

"Darling, what a lovely surprise.  And how sudden."  She looked at
Olivia's tired face.

"Come on in.

We'll have a cup of tea and then you shall go and have a nap.  You can
tell me all about it later.  "

"Granny?"

"She has gone to that old Mrs.  Field for lunch.  We'll have something
in the kitchen.  Sit down while I make the tea, then you can have a hot
bath while I get something to eat."

The best part of an hour later, sitting at the kitchen table with her
mother, supping soup, and warm from her bath, Olivia felt decidedly
better.  It wasn't the end of the world.  She would find another job
and start again.

Forgetting Haso wasn't going to be easy, but nothing had been easy for
the last year or two.

Her mother hadn't asked any questions while they ate, but over another
pot of tea Olivia told her what had happened.

She told it without trimmings and in a steady voice, and when she had
finished her mother said, "I'm sorry, my dear.

But you have nothing to reproach yourself with.  You've done the right
thing, although I think that Rita should have left it for Mr.  van der
Eisler to say goodbye to you.  I said before that he was a good, kind
man, and I still think that.

He wouldn't knowingly hurt you or anyone else.  "

"It's better this way.  Mother.  I feel such a fool Rita made me feel
like a silly, lovesick teenager.  I'm sure she didn't mean it like
that, but that's how it sounded to me."

Mrs.  Harding kept her thoughts to herself.

"Well, love, you're home now.  Go to bed for an hour or two and I'll
break the news to Granny when she gets back."

"Poor Granny--lumbered with me again.  But I'll get a job just as soon
as I can."

Sooner than she expected!  Going to Mr.  Patel's shop for extra
groceries, which her grandmother had proclaimed would be necessary now
that there was another mouth to feed, her ears still ringing with the
old lady's pithy comments about great healthy girls idling their time
away at home, she found Mr.  Patel darting around his shop in an
agitated manner, muttering to himself and wringing his hands.

"What's the trouble?"  she asked sympathetically.

"Miss, my wife is ill in bed and my daughter is by the side of her
husband, whose mother is being buried today.  I have no help--I am in a
state..."

"Will I do?"  asked Olivia.

"I don't suppose I can serve, but I can fetch and carry and arrange
things on the shelves."

His gentle brown eyes widened.

"You would do that, miss?

Help me in the shop?  It will be only for a day or two--perhaps for one
day only.  I shall pay you.  "

"Just let me take this stuff to my grandmother's and I'll be back."

He lent her an apron, showed her how the till worked, and handed her a
broom.

"I have no time," he said apologetically, 'and I cannot keep the
customers waiting.  "

She swept the floor round the feet of the customers smiling at the
astonished faces of the ladies who lived near enough to her
grandmother's to know her by sight.  That done, she stacked tins of
food, pots of jam, packets of biscuits and then, since there were any
number of customers now, went behind the counter and did her best.  She
was quite worn out by the end of the day and thankfully too tired to
think.  She sat at supper with her mother and grandmother, listening to
the latter lady's comments on suitable work for young ladies and not
hearing a word of it.  After supper she went back again to the shop, to
help Mr.  Patel arrange his stock for the morning.  By the time she got
into bed nothing was important any more, only going to sleep as quickly
as possible.  Which she did.

Mr.  Patel opened his shop at eight o'clock.  It was a chilly, dark
morning and spitting with rain, but he was his cheerful self again. 
His daughter had phoned she would be back in the evening his wife was
feeling better and he had willing help.

Together they handed over bottles of milk, bags of crisps and Mars bars
to the steady flow of customers on their way to work.  There was just
time for a cup of coffee before the housewives came and the day's work
really got going.

There was no closing for lunch at Mr.  Patel's; they took it in turns
to eat a sandwich and drink more coffee in the little cubbyhole at the
back of the shop before facing more housewives and presently the
children, coming home from school wanting their tins of Coke and
crisps.

Olivia, pausing for a cup of tea, reflected that Mr.  Patel would be a
millionaire before he was fifty, if he didn't die of exhaustion first.
There was a lull from the shoppers; she went outside and began to pile
oranges from a crate on to the bench where the fruit and vegetables
were displayed.

Since it was the end of the day she hardly looked her best--her bright
hair coming loose from its pins, an elderly cardigan over the outsize
pinny Mr.  Patel had been kind enough to lend her.

Mr.  van der Eisler, driving fast round the corner in the Bentley, let
out a great sigh when he saw her, swept the car across the road and
stopped in the shop's small forecourt.

The passing traffic had masked any sound he might have made;

he was inches from her when he spoke.

At the sound of her name Olivia shot round, dropping oranges in all
directions.  She said, "Oh, it's you," in a hollow voice and backed
away.  Not far, though, for he put out an arm and drew her gently
towards him.

"My darling love..."

"No, I'm not," said Olivia, and blinked back her tears.

"None of it was true," he told her gently.

"Not a single word.  When we came on Sunday, Rita and I, it was to tell
you that she had decided to go on with her career, that Nel was to go
back to school and stay with Lady Brennon and that I would drive you
and Nel back here.  I was going to ask you to marry me too..."

"Then why didn't you?"  snapped Olivia crossly.

"You never said a word..."

"My darling, I was afraid that you would turn me down..."

"Turn you down?  But I love you...."

He smiled.

"Yes, I know that now."  He put his other arm around her.

"Tell me, why are you here, tossing oranges about?"

"I'm helping Mr.  Patel until this evening--his wife's ill and his
daughter is away for the day."  She gave a wriggle without much
success.

"You can't park the car here..."

She felt his great chest shake with laughter.

"Dear heart, stop being cross and keep quiet while I propose to you.
This is hardly the place I should have chosen for such a romantic
occasion, but it is a matter which needs to be dealt with at once.

Will you marry me,