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clothes, ever. ‘May I have the pleasure of escorting you in to dinner, Maud?’ Hubert asked, taking pleasure from her beautiful face. Maud, who could always rely on her
father-in-law’s support, slipped her hand under his arm and allowed him to lead her into the dining room.
    Bertie escorted the Shrubs on either arm, allowing their excited chatter to rise above him like the unobtrusive twittering of birds. The Rector walked in with Adeline, their conversation having
been reduced to a one-sided lecture by him on women’s suffrage, to which Adeline listened with half an ear and even less interest.
    They stood to say grace, Hubert at the head, Adeline at the foot, with the Rector on Adeline’s right side, next to a furious Maud. They bowed their heads and the Rector spoke in the low,
portentous voice of the pulpit. The moment it was over the door burst open and Rupert, Bertie’s younger brother, stood dishevelled and obviously drunk with his hands on the door frame.
‘Is there a place for me?’ he asked, appealing to his mother.
    Adeline didn’t look at all surprised to see her middle child, who lived in the house previously occupied by her late mother-in-law, the Dowager Lady Deverill, a mile or so across the
fields, overlooking the sea. ‘Why don’t you sit between your aunts,’ she said, sinking into her chair.
    Hubert, who had less patience for his hopeless son and believed he would have done better to have joined his younger sister in America, found a wife and perhaps made something of his life, gave
a loud ‘Harrumph’ and said, ‘Cook’s day off, is it?’
    Rupert smiled with all his charm. ‘I heard my dear aunts Hazel and Laurel were coming for dinner, Papa, and I couldn’t resist.’ The Shrubs blushed with pleasure, unaware of his
slightly mocking tone, and moved apart so O’Flynn could slip a chair between them.
    ‘What a delightful evening this has turned out to be,’ gushed Laurel. ‘Don’t you think, Hazel?’
    ‘Oh, I most certainly do, Laurel. Come and sit down, Rupert my dear, and tell us what you have been up to. You lead such an exciting life, doesn’t he? In fact, we were only saying
yesterday what it must be to be young, weren’t we, Laurel?’
    ‘Oh yes, we were. We’re so old, Hazel and I, that all we can do is enjoy the little titbits you give us, Rupert, like crumbs from the rich man’s table.’
    Rupert sat down and unfolded his napkin. ‘What has Mrs Doyle cooked up for us this evening?’ he said.
    It was past midnight when Bertie and Maud drove back to the Hunting Lodge. Maud vented her fury to her weary and pleasantly tipsy husband. ‘Rupert is a disgrace, turning
up uninvited like that. He was smashed, too, and poorly dressed. You’d have thought he’d have the decency to dress properly for dinner, considering the amount of money your father
lavishes on him.’ She fell forward as the carriage went over a pothole.
    ‘Mama and Papa don’t care about that sort of thing,’ he replied with a yawn.
    ‘They should care. Civilization is about standards. This country would descend into barbarism if it wasn’t for people like us keeping the standards up. Appearances matter, Bertie.
Your parents should set an example.’
    ‘Are you suggesting they’re poorly dressed, Maud?’
    ‘Your father’s eaten by moths. What harm would it do to go to London and visit his tailor once in a while?’
    ‘He’s got more important things to think about.’
    ‘Like hunting, shooting and fishing, I suppose?’
    ‘Quite so. He is old. Leave him to his pleasure.’
    ‘As for your aunts, they’re ridiculous.’
    ‘They’re happy and good and kind. You’re a harsh judge of people, Maud. Is there no one you like?’
    ‘Rupert needs a wife,’ she added, changing the subject.
    ‘Then find him one.’
    ‘He should go to London and look for a nice English girl with good manners and a firm hand to smack him into shape.’
    ‘You’re bitter, Maud. Was tonight really so