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shall we do today, darlings?’ she asked, one arm round Robert as she kissed the top of Maisie’s head.
    ‘We have lessons first,’ said Miss Morton. She was standing quietly by the door, watching the children with their mother. ‘Well, until eleven o’clock at least,’ she added as all three turned reproachful faces to her.
    ‘I thought we could go into Whitby,’ said Mary Anne. ‘We could look at the shops and decide what Father Christmas should bring for Christmas. We can have tea there too, crumpets and butter and fairy cakes. Would you like that?’
    No one was going to deny that they did indeed like the idea and well before lunch they were driving across the moors in the four-seater Austin that Matthew had bought for Mary Anne’s use when they moved to the Hall. Everyone in the house had been sceptical about it but Mary Anne had surprised them all by mastering the car within a week by driving round the estate during every hour of daylight she could.
    They took a picnic basket and ate on the cliff above Runs wick Bay. Mary Anne wanted to make the day as memorable as she possibly could, for after Christmas, Robert was to go to a crammer in Barnard Castle before taking the Common Entrance. After that, well, his father had put his name down for Durham School.
    As he usually did when in the town, Matthew lunched at the Queen’s Head in Bishop Auckland. Afterwards he strolled through the market place towards the entrance to the bishop’s palace. The gates to the park were open and he walked through, taking his time for he had a couple of hours to spare before his appointment with Parsons.
    Today he felt a little less energetic than usual, not at all inclined to inspect his properties before the meeting; something he would normally have done.
    A watery December sun shone on the trees sloping away from the path to his left. It lit up the few bronzed leaves still clinging to the branches. Below them he could see the occasional glint of the rain-swollen Gaunless on its way to meet the Wear. To his right he could see through the gates in the massive wall to the castle, old and solid, the mullioned windows glinting palely in the sun. He walked on to where the cow-catcher gate opened out the ride to the greater park behind it; the stretches of grassland and the old oaks from which the town got its name. It was very tranquil and beautiful, a world away from the smoking chimneys, whirring wheels and slag heaps of the mines. Yet he knew there were pit yards within easy walking distance. He stood leaning on the fence by the gate and smoked his cigar. Then he turned to make his way back to the town to where Lawson was waiting to take him to meet his agent. It was as he went out through the ancient arch which led into the market place that he felt someone was watching him. He looked up keenly. It was a girl, a book on her lap, an open packet of sandwiches on the bench beside her. A shop girl eating her dinner, he thought, taking the chance to get a little fresh air.
    She did not drop her eyes as he caught them but returned his gaze steadily. He had seen her before somewhere he thought, puzzled. He walked closer.
    ‘Do I know you?’ he asked and immediately felt a fool. How could he possibly know a girl like her?
    Katie reddened slightly, not knowing what to say. She remembered him and the occasion on which she had seen him and it was the memory of what a sight she must have looked with pitch on her face and her hands black with it that made her blush.
    Now he had a close-up view of her unusual dark blue eyes, he remembered her too. ‘You’re the girl I met on the wagon way down by Eden Hope aren’t you? You were with your grandfather. I’m right, aren’t I?’
    Katie hastily wrapped up the remainder of her sandwiches and got to her feet. ‘I have to go,’ she said and started to walk along by the market place to the entrance to Newgate Street. But Matthew was not so easily put off though for the life of him he