Henrietta was finding it hard to think she was loved, just at the present. With her father so far away she felt she had nobody to whom she could turn, since the very person she needed was the one she had cast from her. It would not be fair to say that she was wallowing in her misery, but rather floundering in it, since she had no desire to be so unhappy, or so lost as to what she should do. Explaining to her aunt was impossible to imagine, and even Caroline, bound in her own turmoil, was not one into whose ear Henrietta could pour her woes. The obvious answer, to seek out Charles and apologise, did not occur to her, since she felt she had been so harsh with him that he would reject any contrition. It was thus not surprising that she took what comfort she could, and from Mr Newbold.

It would have been impossible for Henrietta to simply withdraw from society and be miserable in private. She therefore had the exhausting task of appearing her normal carefree self, whilst weighed with troubles. Her more casual swains observed no change, but Lord Martley and Lord Netheravon noticed, as did Mr Newbold. Of the three, only he guessed the cause, although Lord Netheravon did wonder. Out of politeness, however, Lord Netheravon did not probe. Lord Martley was struggling with his own problems rather too much to do more than register that Miss Gaydon was not quite herself, and to regret it.

Lord Henfield’s avoidance of Miss Gaydon did not involve him immuring himself within the Vernham residence, since Lady Vernham would not let him linger with what she acerbically described as ‘either a bad fit of the sulks, or being a faint-heart’. Thus berated, he did as he was told, and not only appeared in public, but danced with a succession of young ladies with every appearance of pleasure, and found himself gravitating to Miss Yate, who had an air of resigned melancholy which he found suited his own mood. He was unaware that in several quarters this was seen as ‘singling her out’, and among the mamas, gossip sprang up that Aurelia Leyburn might just get her clumsy daughter off her hands after all. This would have come as both a surprise and shock to both parties.

Dorothea Yate found Lord Henfield consoling. He was happy enough to talk about sensible subjects, and subjects in which she had an interest, such as the plight of rural orphans, and the keeping of bees, and her concern over her younger brother’s lack of interest in his studies at Oxford, which, had Lady Leyburn overheard but one word, would have resulted in being lectured on her many failings as a daughter. He treated her as a friend, and Miss Yate, who could not contemplate any but one particular gentleman being more than a friend to her, relaxed, and unfurled.