Arabella laughed. “He is not always so scrupulous, I assure you,” she said to Sir Walter, “but he was late on Tuesday for an appointment with Lord Liverpool and Mr Norrell was not best pleased.”

“That was not my fault,” said Strange. “I was ready to leave the house in good time but I could not find my gloves.” Arabella’s teasing accusation of lateness continued to vex him and on the way to Harley-street he examined his watch as though in hopes of discovering something about the operation of Time which had hitherto gone unnoticed and which would vindicate him. When they reached Harley-street he thought he had it. “Ha!” he cried suddenly. “I know what it is. My watch is wrong!”

“I do not think so,” said Sir Walter, taking out his own watch and shewing it to Strange. “It is precisely noon. Mine says the same.”

“Then why do I hear no bells?” said Strange. “Do you hear bells?” he said to Arabella.

“No, I hear nothing.”

Sir Walter reddened and muttered something about the bells in this parish and the neighbouring ones being no longer rung.

“Really?” asked Strange. “Why in the world not?”

Sir Walter looked as if he would have thanked Strange to keep his curiosity to himself, but all he said was, “Lady Pole’s illness has left her nerves in a sad condition. The tolling of a bell is peculiarly distressing to her and I have asked the vestries of St Mary-le-bone and St Peter if they would, out of consideration for Lady Pole’s nerves, forbear from ringing the church bells, and they have been so obliging as to agree.”

This was rather extraordinary, but then it was generally agreed that Lady Pole’s illness was a rather extraordinary thing with symptoms quite unlike any other. Neither Mr nor Mrs Strange had ever seen Lady Pole. No one had seen her for two years.

When they arrived at no. 9 Harley-street Strange was anxious to begin looking at Sir Walter’s documents straightaway but he was obliged to curb his impatience while Sir Walter satisfied himself that Arabella would not lack for amusement in their absence. Sir Walter was a well-bred man and greatly disliked leaving any guest alone in his house. To abandon a lady was particularly bad. Strange on the other hand was anxious to be on time for his appointment with Mr Norrell, so as fast as Sir Walter could suggest diversions, Strange was endeavouring to prove that Arabella needed none of them.

Sir Walter shewed Arabella the novels in the bookcase, and recommended Mrs Edgeworth’s Belinda in particular as being likely to amuse her. “Oh,” said Strange, interrupting, “I read Belinda to Arabella two or three years ago. Besides, you know, I do not think we will be so long that she will have time to finish a three-volume novel.”

“Then perhaps some tea and seed-cake … ?” Sir Walter said to Arabella.