Take these other visitors, for example. Her eye had already slid from the ‘astonishing spectacle’. She was now studying the people around them – that was the thing about these so-called attractions: one did rub up against all sorts – and seeing something she had lately noticed a lot: the staring. Was this a new custom? She had come to Town once or twice over the years, and had never previously been so aware. But now, wherever she went with Miss Atkinson and Mary, passers-by seemed to gawp and it was happening right there again, in the Panorama. The girls walked; the heads turned. Furthermore, some of these heads seemed then to whisper between themselves. It was deeply unpleasant. Fanny often found herself blushing and there was she, now a married lady. Her heart went out to Mary and Miss A. They simply were not used to such impertinence. It certainly did not happen in Ashford.

‘I say, Fan.’ William approached her. ‘Will you look at that now?’

Fanny gave Naples a cursory glance. It appeared to be quite horribly hot, and frightfully busy. How did anyone live, all cramped together like that? ‘At what exactly?’

‘Oh!’ Miss Atkinson clasped her hands into the position of prayer and raised them, as if the Holy Ghost were coming out of the wall. ‘The quite wondrous basilica!’

‘Ah, yes. Perfectly splendid.’ None of it was quite Fanny’s cup of tea – all rather Catholic – and she was beginning to wonder if the governess might not be just a little affected. ‘Have we had enough, do we think?’ she asked the young people brightly.

And soon they were back out on the streets.

As a London establishment, Number 57 Portland Place suited Fanny and Sir Edward exceedingly well. Within the towering white stucco mansion, the rooms were many and large, the amenities excellent and Lady Banks so delighted to host them that it felt almost as if the generosity were theirs.

It was now late afternoon, and the ladies were peaceably alone in the drawing room. ‘How blessed I am to have you all under my roof.’ Lady Banks was never to be found without her embroidery frame and, almost always, with a needle in hand. ‘You chase away my old widow’s sorrows, my dear, and keep me sprightly.’ She gave a vague stab at the canvas, but did not pull the thread through.

‘I was thinking the same thing only today.’ Fanny directed her words around the person of the footman who poured her tisane. ‘About my own blessings, I mean.’ She stared into the fireplace and hoped that his next job might be another log. ‘We were at that Panorama business—’

‘Ah, yes. Of course, my views on that are well known. Did you not think it fr-r-rightful?’

The footman saw to the fire, which hissed and then flared.