'It is a long time ago, Fanny. I think you may assume that no one except ourselves has any knowledge of this at all. It is nothing my child, I assure you, of which you should be ashamed.' This was the only time she had ever heard Mr Gilpin tell an obvious lie.

'So what should I do?'

'Do? Nothing. I only thought to tell you myself ...'

'To save me an embarrassing discovery, perhaps in front of some curious parish clerk.' She nodded. 'Thank you, Mr Gilpin.'

'Put it out of your mind, Fanny. It has no significance.'

'I shall. Goodbye. And thank you for taking me to Beaulieu.'

She did not go inside at once, but watched the chaise roll away round the corner of the drive. Then she went over to a bench under one of the trees and sat there, considering this new revelation for a while. She wondered what Mr Martell, without a blot upon his aristocratic escutcheon, would think of the fact that she was connected, and closely, to the lowly Seagulls of Lymington.

'I have great hopes', said Mrs Grockleton, well before the summer ended, 'that our situation is about to improve. Indeed,' she asserted, 'I think I may say, Mr Grockleton, that I have never been more happy.' This proposition filled her husband with some anxiety: for Mrs Grockleton's happiness was a fearsome thing to behold. 'And to think', she went on, for she was very honest about such things, 'that we have that clever girl Louisa to thank for all this.'

As Mr Grockleton couldn't for the life of him think why he should be thanking Louisa Totton for anything in particular, but was too wise to say so, he gave her a look of enquiry that seemed also to signal agreement and she soon rattled on.

'I shall always be quite persuaded that it was Louisa who decided Mr Martell to take such an interest in Lymington. Now it seems that he has spoken to Sir Harry Burrard about standing for Parliament.'

'That may not be Louisa's doing,' Mr Grockleton observed.

'Yes, yes, my dear. It is, I do assure you. And if proof were needed, Louisa and Edward are invited to visit him at his place in Dorset. They leave next week. There now! I tell you, Mr Grockleton, he means to marry her.'

'It would not be unnatural, since the Tottons had him staying in their house, to return the hospitality,' her husband pointed out.

'Oh, Mr Grockleton, you do not see these things,' she cried. 'But I do. And surely you understand what this means for us?'

'For us, Mrs Grockleton? I do not think I do.'

1804