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once the weather gets too bad for gardening, there won’t really be anything for me to do.”
    “Not at the cottage, perhaps,” Jeremy agreed. “But I could have offered you a job—even as soon as this, I have quite a lot of correspondence dealing with bookings for next year. I’d have been glad of your help.” But, Meg noticed, he spoke in a way which made it clear that he was so sure she would refuse that he didn’t think it was worth while making a definite offer. Uncle Andra must have been very anxious for her to leave! “I’m sorry—” she said rather uncomfortably.
    “Not to worry,” Jeremy said cheerfully. “It is rather a dead-and-alive place here in winter. There are times when I wonder if, though we’re making quite a good thing of the venture, life wouldn’t have been more pleasant in some rather more interesting a place.”
    “But it is your home,” Meg reminded him.
    Jeremy shrugged his shoulders.
    “It is—and it isn’t,” he pointed out. “It can’t be the same with visitors here as when we had it to ourselves. And oddly enough, even in the winter, when we’re on our own, it still isn’t the same—” He gave her a rueful grin. “Oh well, there it is. What can’t be cured must be endured, I suppose. And now, never mind my moans! I wondered if you’d like to see the caravan your uncle is going to have. It will reassure you that he really is going to be quite comfortable. For one thing, it’s actually meant for two people, so he’ll have plenty of room.” He glanced at his watch. “I can show you now, if you haven’t anything better to do?”
    From the hotel, the way to the caravan encampment was by a well kept stone path which led to the far end of the garden. Between that and the encampment was a screen of trees so that, until they went through the small gate, there was nothing to see of the caravans. But once through, Meg gave a little exclamation.
    “But there are masses of them!” she exclaimed.
    “Fifty,” Jeremy said precisely. “We could have squeezed in a few more, but it would have made for congestion. Besides, we’re already a bit short of car park space until we enlarge it next spring. And it would have been something of a strain on our other amenities as well—and I might say, we’re rather proud of them!”
    And, Meg had to admit, with cause. Both outside and inside the caravans were spotlessly clean and all were extremely well fitted up. Each had a refrigerator in addition to the other kitchen fitments, the utmost use was made of every available inch of space and the bunks were the last word in springy comfort. The only difference between any of the caravans was that some were larger than others and sported showers.
    Meg was warm in her praise and Jeremy looked pleased at her enthusiasm. He explained that the big old bam at the back of the caravans had been turned into a community room which came in useful on wet days and that the smaller, newer building housed the most up-to-date sanitary fitments available. In fact, there was absolutely nothing to which one could take exception, and yet, at the back of her mind, Meg knew that she wasn’t quite satisfied.
    “Jeremy, what do people do when it isn’t wet?” she asked. “I mean, there’s no sea for miles or even a lake, so it doesn’t leave very much to do, does it?”
    “You’d be surprised,” Jeremy replied carelessly. “There are golf links within reasonable distance. And riding stables. Then, of course, some people simply explore. It’s an area that’s noted for its scenic beauty and there’s a small Roman camp that’s been excavated within a mile or so. That means that even on foot there’s quite a lot to see—good heavens, I sound like one of our own brochures! ” he ended with a smile which changed abruptly into a scowl. “I’ll have to bring that up to date—about the walking facilities, I mean. Heronshaw’s properly put paid to all that with his rules and regulations, confound