108. An Archangel Called Ivan by Barbara Cartland

hot toast that Arliva had not been offered since she was a child.
    It was served in a silver toast-rack and the children jumped with joy at what they saw.
    Evans stood by with a wry smile on his face and, when he saw that Arliva was watching him, he winked his eye and said,
    “You can be quite sure we wouldn’t have carried all this up two flights of stairs to the nursery!”
    “I sensed you would say that,” Arliva laughed. “So please do tell the cook we are very very grateful and the children will come and thank her when they have finished their tea for all that she has produced for them.”
    Evans looked so surprised that she thought for a moment he was going to refuse.
    Then he said,
    “I’m sure cook’ll be very pleased to see them.”
    They all ate a very large tea and Arliva found that the exercise had given her an appetite, also because it was so thrilling to be doing something different from what had been done here before.
    She could understand why the Governesses before her had found it extremely dull at Wilson Hall.
    She would have to find out if there were neighbours who would welcome the three children and make life very different for them than it had been.
    It was, she thought, Johnnie, who was suffering the most, because in a few years’ time when he had to go to Boarding School, he would find it very difficult if he had been on his own as he was at present.
    Instead he should be competing with boys of his own age.
    She was still thinking of what she should do next when they rose from the tea-table and Evans led the way into the kitchen where the cook was waiting for them.
     
     

CHAPTER FOUR
    It was not until late in the afternoon after they had explored the garden and the greenhouses that Lord Wilson sent for Arliva.
    She walked along the passage to his sitting room feeling a little nervous in case he should think that she was too young to be Governess to the children.
    When she entered the room, he was seated on a sofa with a rug over his knees and she realised that he was very much older and weaker than she had expected.
    When she stood in front of him, he began,
    “So you are the new Governess. I hear that you are turning the place topsy-turvy.”
    “It is not quite as bad as all that, my Lord,” Arliva replied, “but I think that everyone had forgotten that the children are now too old for a nursery.”
    “So you had them moved downstairs into the best rooms,” Lord Wilson said. “Do you really think that will improve their brains?”
    He spoke in a rather gruff but not offensive tone.
    Arliva gave a little laugh.
    “I hope so, my Lord, but I expect you know as well as I do that children have to be enticed into learning not forced into it.”
    “I wonder who told you that,” Lord Wilson asked.
    There was silence for a moment.
    And then unexpectedly he enquired,
    “Where do you come from?”
    As the question came as such a surprise, Arliva told him the truth.
    “I come from Gloucestershire, which is where I was born.”
    “Gloucestershire,” the old man said slowly. “I had a friend there at one time. Lord Ashdown was his name. He made a great fortune for himself very cleverly and I wish now that I had followed his advice.”
    For a moment because he had mentioned her father, Arliva thought that he had recognised her.
    Then she realised that he was looking back into the past and that he was more or less talking to himself.
    “If I had gone into the Diplomatic Corps,” the old man was saying, “like old Ashdown, then I would be a millionaire today. Although what I would do with it, I have no idea.”
    Arliva thought it best to be silent for the moment and only after what was quite a long pause, did she say,
    “I do think, my Lord, that the children should have friends of their own age and it is certainly important for Johnnie to be in touch with other boys before he goes to Boarding School.”
    “And where do you think you would find them?” he asked. “When my son was