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"Well, there probably are relatives somewhere in Africa," I said. William looked redeemed. "However, your sister is right. Finding them would be nearly impossible."

Alexandra gave him a stern, sharp nod.

"Finding whom?" my father asked, entering.

"Relatives in Africa," Alexandra said.

"Oh?" He smiled and shook his head. "Our William is talking about that again?"

"Yes. He's being ridiculous, I'm afraid," Alexandra said. Maybe it was her beautiful speaking voice and accent, but she seemed so much older than a twelve-year-old.

"Wanting to find your relatives is not silly, Alexandra," my father said, glancing at me. "The problem would be not having much in common with them anymore, I'm afraid."

"They're probably good hunters," William insisted.

"Yes," my father said nodding. "I'm sure they are. Well now," he said sitting beside me on the settee, "tell me about your school. It's the one administered by Conor MacWaine, is it not?"

"Yes. He's a friend of my grandmother's, who..." I paused as Leanna appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, please, continue," she said. "I don't mean to interrupt."

"I was just saying Mr. MacWaine is a friend of my grandmother's and talked her into sending me to his school after he saw me perform in a high-school play."

"What play was that?" my father asked.

"Our Town," I said.

"And you were Emily Webb?"

"Yes."

"Quite a part. How many plays were you in before that?"

"None," I said.

"None? Well then, quite an accomplishment. No wonder Mr. MacWaine sought you for his school. He recognized natural talent."

"Your parents must be very proud," Leanna said.

"I've just my mother," I replied. "But I don't live with her. I live with my grandmother."

"Oh." She looked awkward, her eyes quickly shifting toward my father.

"Is it time for tea, dear?" my father quickly asked. "Yes. Yes, please. Let's all go into the garden. Children," she said and they rose obediently.

"You have a very nice house," I told my father.

"It's all Leanna's doing. I'm afraid my head is in books and papers most of the time. As you will see, she is quite the gardener as well," he added, leading me to the rear of the house and their garden.

They had a patio with vines hanging through the latticed wooden overhang. Water trickled in a small, gray sculptured fountain and birdbath. The gardens themselves were impressive.

"Leanna will have to describe it all," my father explained.

"After tea, Larry," she said.

Set out on the table was a variety of tea sandwiches, including salmon and cucumber, shrimp and cream cheese and roast beef with watercress and horseradish sauce. There was also a big assortment of pastries and cakes. I recognized lemon shortbread, linzer biscuits, jam and lemon curd tarts and choco

late chip shortbread hearts, all things Mrs. Chester prepared for the Endfields' high teas.