Sean’s dining room was impressive. They often seated twenty in there, and his dinner service was magnificent. Mary could see that the Riverses were favorably impressed. Since they were eight, they dined at a round table. “It’s so awkward seating eight, isn’t it?” she remarked to Lady Rivers as they were about to take their seats, thanking heaven that she knew from Hetty Master the perils of correct “placemen” at dinner. Starting very properly, speaking to the person on one side of her, then switching sides with each course, she could go through all the correct motions of the dinner party to perfection. But with an intimate party like this at a round table, some general conversation might also be permitted. Lord Rivers inquired where she lived and was duly informed that she had a house just round the corner from her brother, and that perhaps, if Lady Rivers had time, she might like to come to tea there. His Lordship then remarked that he’d heard the Vanderbilts had built some huge mansions further up Fifth Avenue; and she was just wondering how to respond, when a little phrase that Hetty used about Gramercy Park suddenly came into her mind.

“We like the fact that it’s a little quieter down here,” she said. It was the sort of thing old money said, and His Lordship inclined his head.

“Quite, Miss O’Donnell,” he acknowledged, understandingly.

So far so good.

It was soon clear that the Riverses were anxious to stress every American connection that they could think of.

“We’ve met a charming compatriot of yours, several times,” Lord Rivers remarked to Mary. “Mr. Henry James, the author. He’s been living in London for years, and is quite a fixture at dinner parties there, you know.”

“A very distinguished man,” said Mary. “Though I’m afraid I don’t always read his books.”

“Ah,” said His Lordship, with a smile, “nor do I.”

Lord Rivers then spoke to her about his family a little, and in doing so, let fall some rather interesting information.

“The Rivers family, you know, were in the navy mostly, for generations. Two admirals, I may say. It was only when a quite distant cousin died that the title and estate came across to my father. And there’s an American connection too. Our branch descends from a Captain Rivers, who had plantations in Carolina, until he lost them soon after 1776.” He smiled. “He was a Loyalist, I’m afraid.”

“We shall have to forgive him,” said Mary. “What happened to the plantations?”

“They were taken over by friends of his, a New York family called Master. But I don’t know anything more than that.”

“Master?” Mary was so surprised that she let her voice rise a bit. As she said it, she saw her brother, her nephew and young Clarissa all look at her nervously.