And yet Fanny made no sort of effort to make Mary break out of it. This supposed mama never dared stray on to any matter that might provoke true conversation. Instead, she merely stated the factual – the weather was fine, say, or Sir Edward stayed too long at the House – thus demanding only a nodding consent rather than commentary. It left Mary puzzled, and somewhat frustrated. After all, curing one’s children of their very bad habits: was that not what parents were for? Truly, she thought, for the ten-thousandth time: her papa had chosen to marry the most curious creature that Kent had to offer.

But before her mood could descend any further, the door opened and there came into the drawing room a great draught of fresh air.

‘Miss Cassy Knight,’ the footman announced, and, after a moment’s enquiry: ‘With Miss Austen.’

‘What happy chance that we should come to call, Miss Knatchbull.’ With a strong stride and air of great purpose, Miss Cassandra Austen led them across Grosvenor Square and on to New Bond Street. ‘We dared hardly hope to find you, presuming you out with your fondest mama.’ She held the girls back while a gig passed by, then hurried them over to the other side of the road. ‘I am very sorry to hear our dear Lady Knatchbull is ailing.’

‘Perhaps not ailing, exactly.’ Mary almost ran to keep up. ‘Sayce described her as “indifferent”, if I remember correctly.’

‘Indifferent?’ Miss Austen stopped still on the pavement and issued Mary with a look of the beady variety. ‘Indifferent, indeed.’ The word seemed to ring with significance. ‘Then that is most interesting.’ She began striding again. ‘In which case, you may well be in need of an alternative chaperone for the length of your stay.’

Giving no thought to the reasoning, only delighted with the outcome, Mary and Cassy beamed at each other and linked arms.

‘Then how perfectly lovely it is, Aunt, to have you with us.’ Cassy took a discreet little skip. ‘I have been longing for you and Mary to meet. I am so pleased with Papa for bringing you here. It is a great sorrow to us all that we see you so rarely in Kent.’

‘Ah.’ Miss Austen spoke over her shoulder. ‘My dear, I am rarely seen anywhere beyond Chawton these days. You see, Miss Knatchbull, I live with my mother and she does like to have me around the place.’ With that, she stopped again. ‘Pray, do not suspect me of any resentment. Far from it! She has been an exemplary parent, and though it may be a duty, it is also my pleasure.’

‘Since my other aunt, Jane, so sadly died—’ Cassy began.