‘It’s only one morning, Daisy,’ said Rose. ‘I would like to do something for that poor girl. I think she is being bullied by her mother.’

‘You’re bleedin’ jealous cos she’s prettier than you,’ said Daisy, ‘and you’re trying to cover it up by being nice to her.’

‘Go to bed, now!’ commanded Rose. ‘Let me hear no more about it.’

Ever since Rose had fallen from grace by attending a suffragette movement rally and had been banned from going anywhere near that organization, she had longed to do something for somebody, and so she set out for Hyde Park the following morning on her bicycle followed by two footmen, one of them wheeling Daisy’s bicycle. She was determined to find out what had made the beautiful Dolly so sad. Deep down inside her she was motivated by the petty thought that she’d better show society she was above jealousy, but that thought did not even reach as far as her brain.

Nine o’clock was considered an early hour of the day to members of society. Rose would have gone to the park earlier, say six o’clock, had she been allowed to do so. There was something exciting about being up at dawn in a great city and feeling it coming alive with the restless clatter of traffic, the whinnying of horses, and the air briefly fresher before the thousands of London’s coal fires put a thin haze over the sun, even on a fine spring day, and streaked the buildings with soot.

As she approached the Serpentine, one of the earl’s carriages drove up. A footman jumped down from the backstrap and let down the steps. Dolly tripped prettily down them. She was wearing a white lace gown with a high-boned collar and a round straw hat covered in white flowers. Worn open over her gown was a fur-trimmed coat. On her feet were little white patent leather boots.

‘Oh, my dear Miss Tremaine,’ exclaimed Rose. ‘You should have worn a divided skirt. You cannot cycle in such clothes.’

Dolly burst into tears. ‘I – I’m always doing something wrong,’ she sobbed.

‘There, there,’ said Rose, patting her awkwardly on the back. ‘Do dry your eyes. We shall walk instead.’ She surrendered her bicycle to one of the footmen. ‘Now, do try to be cheery. It is too fine a morning to be sad.’

Dolly complied and took Rose’s arm, a gesture Rose felt was a trifle over-familiar. She drew her arm away. Dolly began to cry again. ‘I’ve offended you!’

‘No, no. Please sit down on this bench. Do compose yourself. Why are you so distressed?’

‘I don’t know the rules,’ sniffed Dolly. ‘So many rules. We were taking tea yesterday at Mrs Barrington-Bruce’s place in Kensington. Such a splendid tea and I have a healthy appetite. I ate an awful lot and then I found the other ladies were looking at me in horror. Worse than that, I’d taken off my gloves. I did not know one was supposed to eat with gloves on.’