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By Root 3017 0

although no doubt much of the time Moreland was shut away in the studio at work. Matilda, when not acting, had sometimes complained in London that time hung on her hands, even though she was – or had formerly been to some extent – a kind of agent for Moreland, arranging much of his professional life, advising as to what jobs he accepted, what interviews he gave, when he must be left in peace. All the same, as I have said, it was chiefly matters outside the musical world that caused him pain and grief. In the business sphere, Matilda no doubt took a burden from him; in his musical life as such, he may sometimes even have resented too much interference. Since the baby had died, they had had no other child.

‘You are eating sausages tonight,’ said Matilda, ‘and half-a-crown Barbera. As you know, I’m not a great cook. However, you’ll have a square meal tomorrow, as we’re going over to Stourwater for dinner.’

‘Can you bear it?’ said Moreland. ‘I’m not sure I can.’

‘Do cheer up, darling,’ said Matilda. ‘You know you’ll like it when we get there.’

‘Not so sure.’

‘Anyway, it’s got to be faced.’

Things had certainly changed. Formerly, Moreland had been the one who liked going to parties, staying up late, drinking a lot; Matilda, bored by people, especially some of Moreland’s musical friends, wanted as a rule to go home. Now the situation seemed reversed: Matilda anxious for company, Moreland immersed in work. Matilda’s tone, her immediate manner of bringing up the subject of Stourwater, was no doubt intended to show in the plainest terms that she herself felt completely at ease so far as visiting Sir Magnus was concerned. Although she had never attempted to conceal her former association with him – which would certainly not have been easy – she seemed to feel that present circumstances required her specially to emphasise her complete freedom from embarrassment. This demeanour was obviously intended to cover Moreland in that respect, as well as herself. She was announcing their policy as a married couple. Possibly she did not altogether carry Moreland with her. He was rebellious about something, even if not about the visit to Stourwater.

‘Have you seen the place before?’ he asked. ‘You realise we are going to conduct you to a Wagnerian castle, a palace where Ludwig of Bavaria wouldn’t have been ashamed to disport himself.’

‘I was there about ten years ago. Some people called Walpole-Wilson took me over. They live twenty or thirty miles away.’

‘I’ve heard Donners speak of them,’ said Matilda.

She always referred to Sir Magnus by his surname. Isobel and I used to discuss whether Matilda had so addressed him in their moments of closest intimacy.

‘After all,’ Isobel had said, ‘she can only have liked him for his money. To call him “Donners” suggests capital appreciation much more than a pet-name. Besides, “Magnus” – if one could bring oneself to call him that – is almost more formal than “Donners”, without the advantage of conjuring up visions of dividends and allotment letters.’

‘Do you think Matilda only liked him for his money? She never attempted to get any out of him.’

‘It’s not a question of getting the money. It’s the money itself. Money is a charm like any other charm.’

‘As a symbol of power?’

‘Partly, perhaps. After all, men and women both like power in the opposite sex. Why not take it in the form of money?’

‘Do you really think Matilda liked nothing else about poor Sir Magnus?’

‘I didn’t think him very attractive myself the only time I saw him.’

‘Perhaps Matilda was won by his unconventional ways.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘You don’t think so?’

‘I don’t express an opinion.’

‘Still I must agree, she left him in the end.’

‘I think Matilda is quite ambitious,’ said Isobel.

‘Then why did she leave Sir Magnus? She might have made him marry her.’

‘Because she took a fancy to Hugh.’

That was no doubt the answer. I had been struck, at the time she said this, by Isobel’s opinion that Matilda was ambitious.

‘Who are the Walpole-Wilsons?’ asked Moreland.

‘Sir Gavin Walpole-Wilson is a retired diplomat. His daughter, Eleanor,