108. An Archangel Called Ivan by Barbara Cartland Page A

those on her father’s land and most of them were in need of a coat of paint.
    They drove on through what was obviously a very small town and were almost immediately into what anyone might say was the real depths of the country.
    The lanes they were travelling along were narrow and in great need of repair and the cottages were few and far between.
    And then they seemed to be driving for a long way without passing through a village.
    Archie appeared to be concentrating on his horses, so Arliva felt that it might be a mistake to ask questions.
    However, when they had gone for over a mile, she did ask him,
    “Does his Lordship own many horses?”
    “’E used to ’ave a lot and fine they were when we first had ’em, but them as be left are gettin’ old and, as there’s only the young children to ride ’em, they don’t have enough exercise and that be the truth.”
    “Well, I love riding,” Arliva said, “so I hope you will be able to mount me.”
    Archie looked at her in surprise.
    “You likes ridin’?” he questioned, “but most of the Governesses who comes ’ere are afraid of ’orses and then fussed when the children were out ridin’.”
    “Well, I certainly am not a fusspot,” Arliva said, “and, as I want to ride myself, I hope that you will tell me which are the best and fastest horses his Lordship has in his stables.”
    Archie laughed.
    “Oh, well, one never knows just what to expect and you’ll certainly be a surprise to the grooms.”
    Arliva thought it wise not to answer this.
    They drove on in silence until they entered a village that seemed to be larger than any she had seen previously.
    The cottages were thatched and in the centre was a Norman Church and there were also two or three small shops.
    She was just about to ask if this was where Wilson Hall was located, when they turned in through some large gates with a lodge keeper’s house on either side of them.
    The drive was long, but at the far end she could see a house.
    Her first impression was that it looked very pretty, and then, as the dog cart drew nearer, she realised that it had an almost grim frontage.
    Then she saw the flowers on either side of it and she knew that it was definitely the country she had longed for when she was cooped up in London.
    But there was indeed something missing although she could not explain to herself.
    Archie drove the dog cart to the front door, which opened as they arrived.
    She saw, standing at the top of the steps, there was a butler and she thought it was like coming home.
    It was exactly as the old butler, who had been with her father for so long, would stand waiting for the guests to arrive and the door was opened to welcome them before their carriage came to a standstill.
    “Thank you for bringing me here,” Arliva said to Archie, “and the flowers are lovely.”
    “They ought to be good flowers at The Hall,” he said. “We used to win every prize at the Flower Show when we ’ad one.”
    Arliva knew from the way he spoke that the Flower Show no longer existed.
    But there was no chance to say anything more.
    As she climbed down from the dog cart, an elderly footman in uniform which was too big for him, as he had shrunk with age, came to carry her case into the house.
    She walked up the steps and the butler, who had not moved from his position since she had first seen him, said,
    “Good morning, Miss Parker. I hope you’ll enjoy staying here with us at Wilson Hall.”
    Arliva held out her hand and he looked at it in surprise before he shook it.
    Then he said,
    “His Lordship’s resting at the moment, so I’ll take you up to the nursery.”
    Arliva thought that he should say ‘the schoolroom’, but she did not make any remark as he went ahead of her up the stairs and she was followed by the elderly footman carrying her suitcase.
    As she expected, when they reached the first floor, they climbed another flight of stairs up to the second where she was quite certain that the nursery, as the