Dot has been caught where she shouldn’t have been – in the mysterious, abandoned walled garden. Now Miss Walsingham has taken her to see Sir Charles d’Auberley – and it doesn’t look like it’ll be a friendly chat…
It was scary going in to see Sir Charles – in those days children had to do what they were told, and it was really bad for them if they didn’t.
Dot had heard stories of bad boys being beaten with canes or even something called a “tawse” – a thick, springy leather strap. Owwww!!
And she’d read about how a girl might be locked up in a dark room and not let out for days, with only bread and water to live on.
The Victorians had a saying – “Spare the rod...” (meaning, don’t beat your children) "and spoil the child.” She just hoped Sir Charles hadn’t heard that one!
She walked in and closed the door behind her.
“Come forward, now Dorothea” said Sir Charles. He was seated at huge desk covered in papers, with an old-fashioned pen in an inkwell in front of him. A dingy, yellow light came from a big brass lamp on the desk. Miss Walsingham was standing next to the desk, looking very strict, her hands folded in front of her.
Dot did as she was told. She walked a pace or two forward, until Sir Charles held up his hand. She stopped, and found herself standing on a beautiful, heavy rug, all patterned in red and blue and dull gold. She folded her hands in front of her like the governess, and looked down. It seemed the right thing to do!
Sir Charles’ study was quite a room, all lined with old books, and with heavy blue curtains covering a huge window. They were at the front of the house, so it must look out over the ha-ha towards the Dendringham woods, scene of so many of her adventures at the Hall.
Oh PLEASE, Dot thought, don’t stop me going out with Mr Holmes! Not now, with the mystery so nearly solved!
“Now look here, young Dorothea” said Sir Charles, moving awkwardly in his heavy old leather chair and obviously trying to be all stern and strict, but in fact just looking a bit cross. “This just won’t do. You mustn’t, erm, get into scrapes like this. It’s not ladylike, and it, er, well, er, it just won’t do!” He looked up and saw Miss Walsingham looking down at him.
It was obvious she thought he was being a bit feeble… but it was equally obvious to Dot that Sir Charles didn’t know how to tick off young girls and didn’t like trying, either – not the sort of thing a gentleman should do!
Awww thought Dot, what a sweetie! Still it was lucky for her – and Mr Holmes!
She cleared her throat. “I’m very sorry, Sir Charles” she said, looking up and then looking down again. “It’s just so exciting here at the hall, you’ve been so kind to me and I’m having such fun, and I saw the wall round the old garden and wondered what was on the other side and before I knew it I was there! I won’t do it again, I promise faithfully!”
“Can’t think how you got in” said Sir Charles. “Gate hasn’t been open for quite a while – not since the rebuilding, anyway. And it always was a hard one to get open… ” He chuckled and shook his head. “I remember playing in the old walled garden myself when I was a lad - with me pal Bertie Stinchcombe. We used to get up to some larks in there, I can tell you! Cowboys and Indians and all sorts. Once, we - ”
He looked up and caught Miss Walsingham’s eye. She was looking at him the way Dot’s head teacher Mrs Rudman does at someone who’s just done something VERY silly. It’s not a look you want to see, really!
He went all red. He knew what Miss Walsingham was thinking!
“How did you get in there anyway, young lady?” he asked gruffly. “Eh? What?”
“Oh, I climbed over” said Dot, forgetting that was EXACTLY the sort of thing nice young Victorian girls (or “gels”) were supposed NOT to do!
“Oh, Dorothea!!” said Miss Walsingham, deeply shocked. “You really MUST learn to behave like a young lady!”
“Absolutely!” said Sir Charles. “Where did you, though… I mean, how did you get up the…” He caught Miss Walsingham’s eye again and went back to being Mr Gruff.
“Now, look here” he said, tapping on the desk in front of him. “If I hear of any more… any more… scrapes like this, I shall have to gate you, young lady.”
“Gate” thought Dot? Oh! He means being grounded!
“That will mean no going out of the house except with Miss Walsingham here. I know I promised your poor parents you’d have lots of fresh air and riding, and... and all that, but we can’t accept this kind of to-do! Do you understand me, now?”
“Yes, Sir Charles” said Dot meekly.
Tap tap! There was a knock at the door.
“Oh… come in!” shouted Sir Charles irritably.
It was Crabbings the butler. He had a silver tray in his hand with a letter on it.
It was rather a grubby latter, the envelope dirty and torn round the edges. With a grunt (RUDE, thought Dot) Sir Charles took it, and picking up what looked like a little sword, slit it open.
And then he changed.
“What… what…” he spluttered, going bright red in the face.
He made a funny choking sound, and brought a hand up to tear frantically at the tight collar round his neck, gasping and panting and sliding down in his chair, his heels drumming on the floor.
Miss Walsingham screamed.
Sir Charles was having a d’Auberley Choleric!
