“Yes, Aunt Marjory,” Vina agreed meekly.
She was thinking, craning her neck forward to look at the house as they drove nearer to it, that Quarington was exceedingly impressive and exactly as she had expected it to look.
There was something a little austere about its architectural symmetry that appealed to her, while the green trees spreading down to the lake where there were swans and ducks, were very attractive.
“Could anything be grander or more beautiful?” Lady Wallace enthused.
They were escorted up the steps, on which had been laid a red carpet, by footmen in the Quarington livery, whose crested buttons glinted in the afternoon sun.
As Vina followed her aunt and uncle towards the front door, she thought that they might be the Viceroy and the Vicereine of India. And the idea made
