Gwendoline, as ever, was up and about long before her friend had even started to stir herself and she now stood over the unfortunate red-head in one of her most commanding and intimidating poses.

 "Go away, Gwen - I beg you, show a little mercy for once in your sadistic life!"

Gwen's response was to grab Harriet by the feet and drag her out of bed,  along the floor and into the bathroom, where she picked her up and dropped her into a bath of ice cold water that she had specially prepared for the purpose.

"Feels better now, doesn't it my love?"

Haariet got out of the bath and glared at Gwen, saying nothing.  She did not look or feel at all well!

"Come on, Harry.  Stop sulking and come downstairs and start seeing what havoc was wreaked on my ancestral home last night - HURRY UP HARRIET!"

"I dearly love you my darling Gwen, but you can be the ultimate pain in the arse sometimes - I never met anyone worse"  But she followed along all the same.

The ballroom was mercifully not too much of a shambles.  Gwen looked at the evidence of P C Bob's involuntary ardour and grinned at the memory.  She went over to the window and drew up the blinds.  She was astounded to see two couples still engaged  in vigorous if chilly love-making on her lawn.

"Come and look at those two, Harry.  They must have been at it all night. In those temperatures!   Doesn't it make you proud to be British!"

"You aren't the first with that observation, Gwen - it's been said before!  But I take your point - there's hope yet for the youth of this country!"

"Go and make them bugger of home, Harry - there's a dear.  I'd better check on the rest of the house.  I hope there aren't too many  fucking people still on the premises!"

Pleasantly surprised at the lack of any serious damage to her beloved home, Gwen took  some black coffee and a restorative preparation, recommended to her by the resourceful Jenkins,  up to Harriet who had retreated back to bed in great distress and looked so terrible that Gwen made no firther attempt to rouse her, but sat and held her hand, waiting for her to feel better.

"Would you like me to stroke you on the forehead, darling Harriet?"

"No!  Just fuck off and leave me alone!"

"And I thought you were my friend"  and Gwen broke into a fit of tearful sobbing which caused poor Harry to feel, if it were possible, even worse.  She groaned feebly and sank into total unconsciousness.

By noon, the two were feeling very much better and even went up to the gymnasium for a light workout before a spare and frugal  lunch.

Early in the afternoon as they were settling down to a little petting and fondling, the telephone rang.  Gwen went to answer it.  It was the Rector on the other end!  He expressed disappointment at not having seen the two friends in church and said he hoped it was just because they were indisposed rather than suffering from pangs of conscience over throwing such a scandalously unusual bash the night before!

"From what I hear, there was no more sexual activity than you might expect nowadays at any gathering of young people.  I don't really approve, but it would be sad if you felt you had to stay away from St Martin's just because of last night!"

"Thank you, Father Peter.  See you next week!" she replied.  That was   at least one load of worry lifted from her mind!  It had been a great night, but she vowed never to hold another function such as that in the home of her ancestors.  She had followed the Sergeant's pompously avuncular advice and set an example to those less fortunate than herself , and now it was for them to act on that example if they saw fit.

Monday saw a return to Gwen's mission to dvelop Harriet's skill and strength.

"When the time comes for you to leave here, later on, we will have a proper fight and see how you do, Harriet.  I predict you will probably beat me!  You are very good and getting better.  Now get out for your run and let me see how I do on that machine - bet I'm as good as you!"

"How do I know, if I can't watch?"

"You'd better stay and watch, then!"

Gwen managed almost to equal Harry's total number of push ups, but started to become very distressed and looked ready to pass out.  It was Harriet's turn this time to stand over Gwen and  bully HER into going the extra mile.

"We can go jogging together now, Harry" she gasped as she painfully extricated herself from the aparatus.

By the end of March, the pool was ready and filled.  Gwen now had achieved her dream of having a place to swim every morning and Harry had this form of exercise added to her many other physical exertions.

April brought with it many preoccupations for Gwen.  There were difficulties with some of her companies that kept her in Town for most of the week and the wedding was getting near and much work had to be done on that.

 Harry was left to her own devices more and more and found it hard to motivate herself now that some of the light had gone out of her life.  She sensed the end of their wonderful winter idyll was coming closer.  Jim would be back from his work in America and visiting the house more often and the lovely precious intimacy they had known would soon be no more.  She thought of her own future and of a shady, but captivating older man who seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth.
 
Plans began to take shape in her mind and in late June, when Gwendoline had returned from a brief honeymoon in Scotland, she dropped her bombshell to her shocked and tearful friend and lover.

She prepared the way by reminding Gwen of her suggestion that they fight each other for real when harry was about to leave.

"Time for the great showdown, Gwen.  When you're ready!"

"OK, Harry,  back to Devon for a month or two before Oxford, I suppose.  Let's get it over with, my sweet!"

Half an hour later as they nursed their bruises,  Gwen kissed her on the cheek.

"I'd call that a draw, Harry.  I've taught you all I can.  It's up to you from now on.  Now, why are you looking so glum!"

It's more than just my going back to Devon, my angel.  Much more.  And I've put off university for a year.  I've been offered a volunteer job in Africa - a place called Zambekia.  I'll be digging ditches and wells and drainage channels - all sorts of heavy work.  I leave in August and I'll be gone a year.  Don't worry, darling.  It will soon pass and I'll write every day - I promise!"