“He was always saying it,” Thalia said. “When I was wondering how I could possibly make money, I remembered Les Femmes and thought I would do the same about gentlemen.”

“You have written this all yourself?”

“It’s not very long,” Thalia admitted modestly.

“How did you get it published?”

“I went to see Mr. John Hatchard at his shop in Piccadilly. I knew that he published George Crabbe and, although my work is very different, I asked him if he would read my manuscript. He said he would and was so kind to me, Mama. But do you know what he told me about himself?”

“What did he say?” Lady Caversham asked.

“He said that when he opened his bookshop he wrote in his diary, ‘This day, by the grace of God, the goodwill of my friends and five pounds in my pocket, I have opened my bookshop in Piccadilly.’ Just think of it, Mama. He took such a gamble on his shop being a success.”

“It was certainly a brave action,” Lady Caversham agreed.

“When I told him how very important it was for me to make some money,” Thalia went on. “I think he thought of his own struggles and wanted to help me.”

“It was very kind of him to publish it when you are unknown,” Lady Caversham said. “But this book does not really seem like you, dearest, and I should have thought that you might have written a novel.”

“I am no Jane Austen,” Thalia laughed, “and Mr. Hatchard said that he was sure this book would amuse the Beau Monde. I am keeping my fingers crossed, Mama, hoping that it makes a lot of money and I become a success overnight like Lord Byron!”

Lady Caversham was staring at the book she held in her hand.

“I can hardly believe it,” she said. “It seems only the other day that I was teaching you the alphabet and you were trying to read the words of two syllables. Now you have written a book, but I wish you could have put your name on it.”

“I would have liked that too,” Thalia said, “but Mr. Hatchard said that he thought people would think it impertinent for a woman to criticise gentlemen and he also thought that it would sell better if it had an air of mystery about it.”

“I shall read every word,” Lady Caversham promised, “and think, as I do so, what a clever daughter I have.”

She looked down at the book again and then asked,

“How could you know so much about men?”

“I suppose the answer is that I know very little, but I remember the things that Papa used to say and the witty sayings in many books I have read. Then the idea came to me when I was listening to what the customers said about their husbands and their young men.”