Miss Austen cut in with brisk force. ‘My brothers are all busy men. Nevertheless, I remain secure in the belief that, were I to ask, they would make sure to assist.’ She looked up then, and around her. ‘Here we are. The Strand. Keep together as we cross, girls. Unless they have moved it since my last visit – and with the great Engine of Change, all things are possible – we will find our destination just to the south.’

Mary followed closely, and pondered. Since her father’s marriage, she had discovered so many new people to whom she was now considered to be, in some vague way, related. This latest arrival merited some consideration. Miss Austen was tall, vigorous and still, somehow, erect. Though the poor creature seemed to have strayed into her sixth decade – was it not odd how single ladies seemed to live so very long, when the mamas rarely did? – there yet remained a few traces of earlier beauty. Her best features could be seen on others in the family: the high brow, for example, and aquiline nose. And like some, though not all by any means, a keen intelligence shone out from her eyes.

Theirs was but the briefest acquaintance, but Mary’s mind was already made up. She decided she liked this Miss Austen very much indeed.

Once at Somerset House, the two girls were astonished to find yet another delight waiting there.

‘Good day, ladies.’ George Knight was leaning against the wall. ‘May I have the pleasure?’

‘George, darling!’ Cassy called, running to embrace him.

But, just like his brothers, this Mr Knight set great store by his manners. ‘My dear Aunt.’ He bowed, tipped his hat and then, with great fondness, kissed her.

‘So you could find the time, dear. How splendid.’ Though clearly thrilled to see him, Miss Austen’s tone was quite dry. ‘I wonder that more young men do not read for the law, affording as it does such a wide opportunity for the pursuit of pure leisure.’

Laughing, he greeted the girls. ‘A fellow cannot win! A note came to chambers, and such was the command in the tone, I had not a thought but to obey it. What counts the law’ – he took his aunt’s arm – ‘when compared to an outing with you, madam.’

Mary’s new and high spirits rose further. She had enjoyed few previous dealings with this Mr Knight; until now, had only known him as one of the gaggle. Though he was not much younger than Ned – perhaps no more than a year – the difference was crucial. George could not expect to inherit but instead must make his own way in life, and so was most often in Town.

In pairs, they proceeded through the business of entry into the gallery, and without meaning to eavesdrop – such a thing was abhorrent! – Mary could not help overhearing the conversation ahead.