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It was a warm evening in the middle of an unusually good summer. Although it was past eight there was still plenty of light and the air was still and much pleasanter than it had been earlier in the day. Emily loved evenings like this. She had finished her studies, which today consisted of painting in the morning and a little French in the afternoon, and after an early supper, she was her own mistress for at least two hours. She told her mother she was going for a walk, ignored entirely the suggestion that she should take a shawl and set out into the herb garden via the kitchen door. The garden was cook's domain during the day and Emily rarely ventured in. At times like this however, with cook long out of the way Emily had the little walled haven to herself. Happily she wandered along the narrow paths enjoying the gentle hum of the bees as they busied themselves with the honeysuckle climbing the walls and inhaled deeply the medley of scents which filled the air. Kneeling down she gently plucked a few mint leaves, rubbed them together briskly between her fingers and held them close to her nose, marvelling as always that such tiny leaves could release such a pungent smell.

Often, on evenings such as this, she contented herself with the little garden and had been known to happily spend an hour or more there. Tonight however, she was feeling a little more adventurous. Purposefully, she walked to the wooden door set in the wall furthest from the house, took the big brass key from its hook and after a moment's struggle with the stiff lock, pushed the heavy door open and ...

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