‘I gather it’s come out of all that flirting with George. I mean, dear sister and all that but she does rather err on the side of the cautious. Seems she was watching – eyes in the back of her head, Cakey says – and rather took fright. Scared you might turn into one of those dangerous women.’

‘Me?’ Mary was stunned. ‘She cannot possibly think … We heard her say it ourselves: I have not once in her hearing said boo to a goose.’

‘Darling, you are positively angelic. But the poor woman lives in terror of that husband of hers – forgive me, your dearest papa and all that, but still – she just wants you all tucked up and settled, out of harm’s way.’

Mary stopped walking and stared at her friend. ‘This is pure insanity and yet you report it as a matter of fact. Am I to think you approve?’

Cassy cried out with a smile: ‘Pray, allow me to finish!’ and grabbed Mary’s arm as she took back to walking. ‘Having now met said Romeo, I quite accept your learned opinion that good Lady Knatchbull has gone quite staring mad. Of course you cannot marry him! Heaven forfend! I hereby forbid it. We pledged once, remember? I shall carry you off with me to Ireland, if I must.’

‘Ireland? Well, that would be drastic.’ Mary laughed, faith returned. ‘You are funny, dear.’ Then she stopped again, and turned with eyes stretched to their limits. ‘Ireland … Lord George Hill lives in … Cassy?’

‘He asked! Darling, he actually asked. And Papa has consented.’

Reunited in happiness, they clung to each other and sobbed.

In the highest of spirits, Mary swung down to breakfast. ‘Good morning, Mama,’ she trilled.

Lady Knatchbull sighed into the letter she was reading. ‘I am glad someone is cheerful.’

After two excellent weeks of parties and sport, Mary was very cheerful indeed. Dr Knatchbull had gone away, fun was returned and with the start of yet another fine day, she was at the top of her tree. Still, one moment with the Mother and she was now thoroughly squashed.

‘It seems you are not.’ She went to the side and filled up her plate. ‘I am sorry to hear it – Ma-ma.’

Fanny emitted a longer, even heavier sigh, dropped the paper and turned to her tea. ‘More bad news, I’m afraid. Still, I will not blame myself. My father was in charge, after all. No doubt, had I been there, this might not have happened but one cannot do everything, Mary. Not with a baby. The precious must be my priority. One’s hands are quite full enough.’

‘May I ask—’