Jessica de Vrais was 22, the only child of an elderly and irritable widower. Though they thought alike on almost all matters, they agreed on none; least of all did they see eye to eye on the subject of men. Jessica, pretty and popular, invited them to come and stay; Mr. de Vrais, irritable and suspicious, invited them to go away and stay away. Fortune-hunters all, he said furiously to his daughter. One and all, they were after her money - his money. One look, he shouted, and he could smell them a mile off. Hangers-on. Yahoos. Parasites.

Nether Stapling Manor nor any of the fine family possessions of this stately home really belonged to Lady Laura, but for more than 20 years she had enjoyed them undisturbed. Many people in the nearby little town of Rivering were well aware of the situation. No one was worried except nice old Cosmo Brierley, trustee of the Estate, and he had no control whatever over this eccentric aristocrat. His one comfort was that Lady Laura was a wonderful custodian of the place, keeping all intact and cherished, even making money by son et lumière in summer.

The memory of her late husband's slow and painful death is fresh in Anita Stratton's mind when she finds herself confronted with the high-voltage glare of national publicity when her first novel rockets into the best-seller lists. The furor she arouses leaves her publishers, the staid and respectable firm of Beetham Brothers, as bewildered as she herself is.

"A week at Trysting had its trials", Leigh thought. A round of odd jobs with Aunt Elvira, bad poetry with Aunt Rosande, and bouts of hay fever with Aunt Dolly were not his idea of a restful holiday. Nor did his cousin Raymond, who seemed sunk in gloom, help matters. Or a mystery Leigh could not fathom about someone burning down the old house and the disappearance of the family silver. But meanwhile there was a Hampshire summer, and there was Auriol. Auriol, Leigh thought, was lovely - but he didn’t want to live on eggs.

When, like Ruth and Roger Mallard, you inherit a large house but no money to keep it up, one thing you can do is turn it into a guest-house. And having made up their minds, the Mallards decided that River Lodge was to be a guest-house of the very best kind. The first week’s guests were specially chosen - or self invited: a rich aunt; a theatrical producer and the lovely Felicity; Felicity’s sister and her twins; a famous artist and the amiable “Goosey”; the fattest dog in fiction; and a not-so-rich but very comic uncle and aunt.

Natalie Rome, timid and retiring, discovers that a new life at forty is not, after all, as difficult of achievement as she had feared. With new relations and a new home, she finds security and happiness. She also finds a stepdaughter as timid as herself and a stepson of exceptional charm; a mother-in-law in garden boots and ancient, formal hats who talks loudly and a great deal; and a father-in-law who seldom talks at all. Into this assembly comes Natalie’s own daughter Helen; young, beautiful, successful and supremely confident.

Rae knew a good deal about Richard Ashton. Sharing his sister Judy’s flat, she'd lived for a year with his photograph: a dark, handsome, somewhat commanding young man. She'd listened to long extracts from his letters and built up a picturesque if inaccurate picture of his life in Kenya. She knew he declared himself heart-whole and had instructed his sister to find him a wife.

Into the ordered life of thirty-three-year-old Edward Netherford comes the Brockman family. Loud, brash and demanding the return of three Impressionist paintings which have been retained - illegally, they claim—by their late father’s second wife. Edward’s legal services—and his even temperament - have never been more severely tested as letters to the second Mrs. Brockman in York remain ignored and unanswered. It soon becomes clear that some more positive move has to be made.

High Ambo, in England, is the setting. It is winter, and Caroline West - a very human, placid, and unexcitable person - has gone there to escape her late husband's relatives. Like so many good-hearted people, she is immediately put upon. Caroline's sister Iris comes first, full of impulse and determination to be a reporter - an ambition abruptly deflected by a handsome young schoolmaster - an authority on birds. Then comes Robert, with his sweet, ingenuous fiancée Polly, and thus making the three-ring circus of a genuine Cadell household.

Old Mrs. Lauder was as loathsome as her lilies were lovely. Every year, the vicar had hoped for a change of heart in this sinister woman whose murder brought fear and suspicion to the village, to the church, and the lilies she had denied them every Easter while she lived. But somewhere in those waxen blooms, there was a message and a danger signal.

Julian was in love with Alexandra, Alexandra was in love with Julian. She had no doubts about that, and being engaged to Julian was delightful. Yet, somehow, as a husband, she felt he might prove less perfect - until she had taught him the little lesson he needed. Julian learnt it in Scotland, Yorkshire, Devon, London. His mystified family looked on.

 At Rushing Farm, the Manning household — with Aunt Flora at its head — lives in harmony. With the appearance of George Manning, however, peace is at an end. George is a successful actor, spoilt and selfish. He sees nothing at Rushing but discomfort and boredom, and his relations hope that he will carry out his repeated threat of departing by the next train. But with the arrival of Brian Lorimer and the enchanting Angela Reynolds, George finds something at Rushing which proves a greater attraction than his comfortable existence in London. 

Madame Landini’s memoirs promised to be sensational. Rodney, who had captured them for his publishing house, and Oliver, his literary agent friend who would handle the business side of the book, could congratulate themselves on a brilliant coup. But having covered her childhood as a Russian princess, her years of exile in Paris, and the discovery of her phenomenal voice, the prima donna reached her first husband’s death — "man overboard" — and declared she would write no more. Rodney suspected there was more to this than a display of temperament.

On his retirement, George Ainstey had moved to Ellstream, hoping to escape from the tensions of London life. His only neighbors were Lady Charlotte Merrion, who lived in the mansion on the site of an 18th-century ruin, and her daughter-in-law, Antonia Merrion, whose land adjoined Mr. Ainstey’s. 

Tourists found it hard to imagine a quainter, more lovable spot than Deepwood Village; but the villagers were not quite as lovable as their surroundings. Deepwood House, too, was chiefly known as the home of three wicked and rich Stirlings. So one summer, Deepwood attracted some rather strange visitors, as well as the tourists. Like the eccentric new gardener, who let the flowers scorch and talked to people nobody else could see.