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“She was probably very fond of New Zealand,” Susan offered.

“She loved it.” Again she detected the shadow of pain in his eyes. “But she’s young, as Max says. She wanted to spread her wings, too.”

“I think we all do,” Susan agreed. “Sometimes I think I should have got away from Denham’s before this, but —but I never did.”

“And you won’t desert us now, I hope?” He was looking straight at her. “We need young blood, Miss Denham. Surely Max has managed to convince you of that, at least?”

“I don’t think—your brother would try to convince anyone or suggest that they were indispensable to him.”

“I was thinking of the firm,” he said. “We’re all essential to future progress, one way or another.” He had one eye on Evelyn. “Your stepmother is a very vivacious little person,” he commented.

“Everyone likes Evelyn,” Susan agreed.

“This is a wonderful old house,” Maxwell Elliott said at her elbow. “It’s a pity their upkeep is so steep.”

He was so completely possessed, so sure of himself and the power of money that she wanted to snub him in some unforgettable way, to ‘cut him down to size’, as Fergus would have put it.

“Perhaps I’m glad you’re not going to live here,” she told him. “I don’t think you would ever understand about Denham.”

“I might surprise you,” he answered, lifting a glass from the tray proffered to him by Tom Spender in his frayed white jacket. “I might even surprise myself.”

“In what way?”

“The time might come when I might want to take a wife, as you say in these parts.”

“I can’t imagine!”

“No, I suppose not” He emptied his glass. “Who is the girl in the atrocious purple dress?”

Susan turned to see Lilias watching them from the far side of the room.

“Another of your employees—Lilias Rutherford. She models our cashmeres. It’s our one big extravagance.”

“I suppose I ought to meet her.”

“She’ll be delighted!”

Lilias was making her way towards them. When she was near enough she directed a straight look at the stranger in their midst, marking him down as her lawful prey.

“I’ve heard all about you,” she informed him in the languid voice she kept for attractive men. “You’re working miracles at Fetterburn, aren’t you?”

Maxwell Elliott laughed.

“Give me time! I’ve only just begun.”

“How long have you been in Scotland ?” she asked. “Several weeks. I’ve toured around a lot.”

“Buying livestock,” Susan put in because she couldn’t forget about Hope’s Star and never would.

“Are you going to farm?” Lilias asked, her eyes glinting up at him in the provocative fashion Susan remembered only too well. “Do tell me about it!”

“My brother’s the farmer, although he’s also a very good business man,” Max told her.

“He’s—older than you are?”

“Yes, he gives the orders!”

“I can’t believe that!” Lilias was flirting with him quite openly now. “You’re not the sort of person who needs to be directed. You’d always know what you wanted. Are you going to manage the mill?”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Susan murmured, “I’d like a word with Fergus.”

She didn’t want to know about Maxwell Elliott’s plans, she assured herself. When he came to take possession of Denham House she would be gone.

What about your promise to Evelyn? The words smote her as if they had been spoken aloud in the noisy room. Evelyn! Evelyn, she thought. She’s the centre of the universe just now!

Her stepmother was certainly the centre of a good deal of admiration at that moment, she was forced to acknowledge. Maternity became her, and she had a kind of radiance about her that put lesser women to scorn. She used her charm without seeming to be aware of it Men would cheerfully have died for Evelyn Denham and women admired her, while several of them were her very true friends.

Yet it was to her stepdaughter she had appealed for help. Oh, wily Evelyn!

Susan smiled into her questioning eyes in passing and knew that her flight from Denham was off. She would stay to the bitter end, for Evelyn’s sake.

The party was going with a swing. It was all that Evelyn had hoped for, and Susan noticed how often Richard Elliott was at her stepmother’s side. Max, on the other hand, seemed to be preoccupied with Lilias, and whatever they had found in common she had certainly succeeded in making him smile.

When she looked for Fergus he was nowhere to be seen, which was an unusual state of affairs. Fergus was generally her attentive shadow at a party, nearly always at her elbow if not exactly at her beck and call. But of course, she had plenty to do to entertain her stepmother’s guests.

It was with an odd sense of shock that she saw him, half an hour later, coming in at the open terrace windows with Maxwell Elliott’s niece. Fergus relieved her of the platter of vol-au-vents she was carrying.

“I’ve been showing Grisell around,” he explained. “She’s crazy about horseflesh and she feels you ought to get together.” He offered the platter to Grisell. “You said you were starving,” he reminded her with a laugh that was very gay for Fergus. “I’ll fetch you some more!”

“Yes, do help yourself,” Susan said a little formally. “The garden has got a bit out of hand at the moment,” she added conversationally, “but it can look lovely, especially in the spring.”

Grisell gave her a long, steady look. She was a very pretty girl, with ash-blonde hair and vividly-blue eyes which she must have inherited from her mother, but she had the Elliott nose and chin. Her mouth, too, was as firmly determined as Max’s, and she looked as if she might like her own way.

“I’ve got your horse,” she said, coming to the point she wanted to make without further ado. “Max says you’re a bit upset about it, and I don’t wonder. Hope’s Star is absolutely super! The thing is, though, that she hasn’t exactly taken to me, and I thought I knew all about horses. Back home in Timaru I was never out of the saddle, but this horse baffles me. Frankly, I think she won’t forget you. Maybe you’ve had her too long to be making changes in her ownership.”

“I had to sell,” Susan told her.

“You could borrow Hope’s Star now and then, when you wanted to,” Grisell suggested eagerly. “It might help to smooth the way for me if she saw you around occasionally.”

“I don’t think I shall have time to come to the Carse or even to go riding very often,” Susan returned.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Grisell appeared to be genuinely disappointed. “I—thought we might be friends.”

It was impossible not to be touched by such a straightforward appeal and Susan felt that she couldn’t meet it with a rebuff, although Grisell probably got her own way far too often. Max had hinted at something of the kind, in fact, but he had also said that his discipline was probably on the harsh side, which she could well understand. Grisell was young and lonely in a strange country, however.

“You’ll soon get to know people,” she said. “We’re a friendly lot up here on the Border and Edinburgh’s lots of fun. I’ll see what I can do about Hope’s Star, but I won’t ride her again. We might go out together, though.”

"Well—thank you!” Grisell smiled. “I loathe being alone, and that’s just what it’s been like, all these weeks with Max. Oh, he’s sold me culture all right, up and down the country, but he’s so dedicated to work I know it’s been a great strain.” She sighed. “I did hope for something bright and cheerful to do. I get so restless, you see, being too long in one place. Daddy calls it Teenageitis, but it’s more than that, I guess. I seem as if I’ve got off on the wrong foot, somehow.”

“What would you like to do?” Susan asked.

Grisell shrugged.

“You
tell
me,”
she suggested. “Once I thought I wanted to be an actress—I still do, in a kind of a way— but my mother died just as I was going to drama school, so it fell through. Daddy needed me beside him, or so Max said. He makes so many decisions,” she added with a frown. “Decisions for all of us, although he pretends to defer to my father because he’s older. Daddy hasn’t been very well lately and Max has taken over, I suppose. We never see eye to eye,” she ended not too convincingly.

Susan felt uncomfortable. She could see Max's tall figure out of the corner of her eyes approaching with Lilias in tow.

“What has my scapegrace niece been telling you?” he asked. “I can’t believe it’s all flattering.”

“I was saying how we never agreed,” Grisell informed him. “It’s perfectly true, isn’t it?”

“Don’t confuse the issue, Grisell, unless you have to,” Max answered. “You’re not my complete responsibility now.”

“No, not when Daddy’s here. All the same, I expect you’ll still manage to put your oar in, somehow.” Suddenly she was laughing. “You wouldn’t think we got on quite well together, in the main,” she remarked. “It’s only when Max decides to play the autocratic guardian that we quarrel.” She slipped her bare arm through his. “That’s true, isn’t it, dear
Uncle
Max?”

It was obvious that she regarded the slight difference in their ages as of no importance. Ten years wasn’t enough to assure him of supreme authority, Grisell considered.

“True or not,” he said, “I don’t think we should inflict our domestic differences on the company at large.” He turned to Lilias. “You’ve met my niece, I suppose?”

“No,” Lilias said, “we haven’t met, but if I can help Miss Elliott in any way—”

“Oh, do call me Grisell! We don’t stand on ceremony down under, you know,” Grisell smiled, liking Lilias at first sight. “You’re the firm’s model, aren’t you?” she asked eagerly. “I’ve seen your pictures. At one time I even thought of doing that for a living, but Max put me off it. Always Max, you see!” She gave his arm a playful squeeze. “You’re a dreadful ogre and nobody will ever love you if you don’t alter your ways!”

“I’ll have to take my chance on that.” Max had met her mood with surprising insight, knowing that she didn’t mean half she said. “Have you seen your father?”

Grisell glanced across the room to where Richard Elliott was hovering near Evelyn’s chair.

“He’s still in orbit around our lovely hostess,” she said lightly, although her colour deepened as she looked. “She’s a real charmer, isn’t she? Everybody says how much they adore her and I’ll have to follow suit, I guess.”

The remark irked Susan, but Lilias laughed.

“It’s time we went home,” Max said.

It was barely midnight and Grisell put on a pouting face.

“You’re an absolute killjoy!” she declared. “Parties go on in the Borders till daybreak. Fergus has just told me so.”

“Not this sort of party.” Max took her by the elbow to propel her towards the door. “Mrs. Denham must be waiting for us to leave and your father has had a tiring day.”

“He’s been in Edinburgh at a wretched meeting,” Grisell frowned. “How could that be tiring?”

Max tightened his grip on her elbow.

“You’ve no idea,” he said.

His mouth was grim again, Susan noticed, his dark eyes hard as he watched the tall man by Evelyn’s side. Richard Elliott seemed to have wilted a little, although he was still smiling and talking to the group of people around his hostess. Evelyn never seemed to be without that little train of admirers and she looked up as Max approached.

‘You simply can’t be going,” she said. “It’s early yet, and we always have some soup to speed people on their way. Susan will be arranging it in a jiffy. Please stay, at least till midnight!”

Nobody ever refused Evelyn anything. She had that way with her, but as soon as the soup had been handed round, the Elliotts took their leave. They said their goodbyes to Evelyn and then to Susan. Max took her hand.

“Thank you for tonight,” he said. “Did you mean what you said to Grisell?”

Susan looked up at him, her clear eyes steady on his.

“If you mean about helping with Hope’s Star, I never go back on a promise,” she said.

“I’m sure that’s true.” He held her fingers for a moment longer. “Thanks,” he added, “for everything.”

He had no need to thank her, Susan thought, yet it left an odd sort of pleasure in her heart.

Richard Elliott’s grip was not quite so decisive as his brother’s.

“I’ve enjoyed every minute,” he declared in his bluff, good-natured way, “thanks to your stepmother! You have a fine place here, Miss Denham, something to be really proud about, and maybe that’s why I wanted to come all this way from New Zealand. Just to see the Borders and feel part of them for a while.”

“You don’t intend to stay, then?” Susan asked with a sinking feeling in her stomach. An absentee owner would be no use to the mill. “I thought everything was settled.”

He looked at her with a distant expression in his eyes.

“I won’t be going back to New Zealand, if that’s what you’re asking me,” he answered. “No, I guess I’ve burnt all my boats behind me in that respect.” There was something almost wistful in his tone, something she couldn’t understand in a man who was surely fairly certain of his destiny. “I’ve made a lot of money and I can afford a whim or two,” he added.

Susan drew her hand away.

“Is Denham one of your whims?” she asked.

He laughed as he put on his coat.

“Indeed not! I’m leaving Denham to Max,” he declared.

When all their guests had gone Evelyn heaved a little sigh.

“Tired?” Susan asked. “You really ought to be!”

“Tired but happy,” Evelyn amended. “It’s been a lovely, lovely party!”

“Eve,” Susan asked, “do you miss London?”

“Not one bit!” Evelyn turned to the windows, looking out across the moon-blanched terrace to the shadowy parkland beyond. “I’m quite content where I am.”

“I wish it could be for always,” Susan murmured.

“ ‘If wishes were horses—’!”

Susan moved out on to the terrace. She was restless and unhappy these days, waiting to leave her old home.

“All this,” she said with a tremor in her voice which she could not quite control. “It’s part of us, Evelyn— part of you and me, because you loved my father. But we’ve let it go now, and I suppose we’re guilty of some sort of treachery. Or does money mean everything, after all?”

Evelyn came to stand beside her.