‘I get out with the VWH now and then,’ said Cecil, ‘though I’m afraid my father doesn’t approve.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘He breeds livestock, you see, and has a tender feeling for creatures.’

‘Well, how very sweet,’ said Daphne, shaking her head with dawning approval.

Cecil held her eye with that affable superiority that George could only struggle to emulate. ‘As he doesn’t ride to hounds, he’s gained the reputation locally of being a great scholar.’ She smiled as if mesmerized by this, clearly having no idea what he meant.

George said, ‘Well, Cess, he is something of a scholar.’

‘Indeed he is,’ said Cecil. ‘He’s seen his Cattle Feeds and Cattle Care go into a fourth edition, the most successful literary production of the Valance family by far.’

‘So far, you mean,’ said George.

‘And does your mother share his views on hunting?’ asked Mrs Sawle teasingly, perhaps not sure whom to side with.

‘Oh, Lord, no – no, she’s all for killing. She likes me to get out with a gun when I can, though we keep it from my papa as much as possible. I’m quite a fair shot,’ said Cecil, and with another sly glance round in the candlelight, to see that he had them all: ‘The General sent me out with a gun when I was quite small, to kill a whole lot of rooks that were making a racket – I brought down four of them…’

‘Really…?’ said Daphne, while George waited for the next line -

‘But I wrote a poem about them the following day.’

‘Ah! well…’ – again, they didn’t quite know what to think; while George quickly explained that the General was what they called Cecil’s mother, feeling keenly embarrassed both by the fact and by the pretence that he hadn’t told them this before.

‘I should have explained,’ said Cecil. ‘My mother’s a natural leader of men. But she’s a sweet old thing once you get to know her. Wouldn’t you say, George?’