Ned made a barking noise. ‘What on earth is the matter, Fan? Standing there looking at me like I’m a turnip.’ He waved one hand in front of her eyes, as if returning her from a trance. ‘Your young Norton, of course!’ He took another huge gulp. ‘We all spent the whole day with him, showed him some fun. Must say, he seemed rather a stranger to it.’ Fanny looked at him, baffled. ‘Fun, I mean. As in: never had any. Warmed up eventually. I say.’ He lowered his voice and tilted his head towards his big sister. ‘That was the right thing, surely? Make the boy feel at home?’

‘Oh, heavens! Yes, of course!’ Fanny put her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder. ’You are such a dear, kind soul.’ This was getting rather awkward. Even Ned had devoted his day to the comfort of the Knatchbulls. It seemed everyone had, except Fanny.

‘He was saying he has three younger brothers, too,’ Ned rattled on cheerfully. ‘They were not able to come today?’

‘Sadly not,’ replied Fanny, who, to her shame, had not even noticed their absence.

‘You have met them elsewhere, I take it?’ Ned raised an eyebrow, then shook his head. ‘But of course! Sir Edward is hardly going to engage himself to a lady without his children’s approval!’

Rather than admit the terrible truth – not only did Fanny not know the children, she was not even sure of their names – she simply smiled and said, ‘Forgive me, I must just speak to little Mary.’

Now in a fog of great mortification, she moved towards the three girls. But at that very same moment, Sir Edward and her father stepped out on to the terrace, blocking her path. She looked around wildly for poor Norton, just as the second gong struck. She resolved to sit by them at dinner, but her papa insisted on placing her between him and her fiancé. Fanny could only sit down and hope for the best.

The Godmersham table was well known and generally loved for its gentle informality. Though the house was equipped well enough for grand entertainment – the hall was magnificent; the reception rooms plentiful; the dining room splendid – nothing of that kind ever occurred, for the simple reason that Mr Austen Knight did not want or require it. There were no dances, no balls, and should some dignitary pass through the locality, he would not be invited to dine. Their visitors were almost always just family or neighbours, and the resident children, generally being enough to form the majority of diners, were allowed to set the conversational tone.