and with not a little difficulty, my father was transported into the house. By

the time Dr Meredith arrived, he had revived considerably and the doctor soon

left again making only vague statements to the effect that my father had perhaps

been 'over-working'.

 

The whole episode was clearly a great embarrassment to my father, and by the

time of that conversation in Lord Darlington's study, he had long since returned

to busying himself as much as ever. The question of how one could broach the

topic of reducing his responsibilities was not, then, an easy one. My difficulty

was further compounded by the fact that for some years my father and I had

tended - for some reason I have never really fathomed - to converse less and

less. So much so that after his arrival at Darlington Hall, even the brief

exchanges necessary to communicate information relating to work took place in an

atmosphere of mutual embarrassment.

 

In the end, I judged the best option to be to talk in the privacy of his room,

thus giving him the opportunity to ponder his new situation in solitude once I

took my leave. The only times my father could be found in his room were first

thing in the morning and last thing at night. Choosing the former, I climbed up

to his small attic room at the top of the servants' wing early one morning and

knocked gently.

 

I had rarely had reason to enter my father's room prior to this occasion and I

was newly struck by the smallness and starkness of it. Indeed, I recall my

impression at the time was of having stepped into a prison cell, but then this