Rose left them and went back to her desk. ‘I didn’t think he did any jobs for the demi-monde,’ hissed Daisy. ‘That one’s no better than she should be.’

‘Maybe she’s an actress,’ suggested Rose.

‘And maybe I’m the bleedin’ horse’s arse.’

‘Daisy! Language!’ Daisy often slipped and revealed her Cockney origins.

A tinkling seductive laugh came from the inner office. ‘She’s French,’ muttered Daisy.

Then Rose heard Harry laugh.

‘I’ve never heard him laugh like that,’ exclaimed Rose.

Rose tried to type, but her fingers, usually so nimble, kept hitting the wrong keys.

Dolores seemed to be with Harry for quite a long time. At last they both emerged, Harry looking younger and happier than Rose had ever seen him appear before.

‘Finish your work,’ ordered Harry, ‘and then take the rest of the day off.’

He and Dolores went out and Rose and Daisy could hear them descending the stairs. Dolores’s voice floated back to them. ‘Such a greem-looking pair of secretaries. Tiens! Don’t they frighten you?’

They could not hear Harry’s reply. They went to the window. Harry helped Dolores into her carriage and climbed in after her.

‘Now, don’t that worry you?’ asked Daisy.

‘Doesn’t,’ corrected Rose. ‘Why should it? You know my engagement to the captain is merely an arrangement.’

‘It’s an arrangement you’ll soon be free of,’ said Daisy, ‘unless you’re careful.’

‘Home early?’ commented Lady Polly as her daughter walked into the drawing room. ‘I hope this means you’ve given up all this silly nonsense.’

‘Not at all. The captain merely had business to attend to.’

‘Oh, he has, has he? Well, your precious fiancé has just phoned to say he cannot escort you to the Brandons’ tonight because he has work to do. Such a disgrace. I have asked Jimmy Emery to escort you.’

Rose felt miserable. Jimmy Emery was one of those young-men-about-town who were called on as escorts or dinner guests by people who had been let down at the last moment.

‘We are not mentioned in Queen,’ said the countess, brandishing that magazine. ‘There is a full report of the state ball given by the king, but we are nowhere to be found in the report. It says here, “The Countess of Dundonald wore a handsome jet-embroidered satin.” Pooh! She looked like a crow. “The Countess of Powis looked singularly beautiful in a pale blue satin embroidered with diamonds.” No one in their right mind could call her beautiful.’ Jealously, Lady Polly read on. ‘“Lady Ashburton was in pale blue chiffon and cloth of silver, embroidered with stripes of brilliants, the swathed bodice fastened with diamonds.” Really, I had all my diamonds on and my gown was one of Mr Worth’s best creations. Why have they omitted my name?’ She looked up, but her daughter had silently left the room.

As a young unmarried girl who had not yet reached her majority, Rose’s gowns were always white or pastel. She descended the stairs that evening to join Jimmy Emery, a tall, thin young man with his bear-oil-greased hair in a centre parting.