‘I think they work upon the direction of the wind at the time, and simply continue until there is insufficiency of gas within the fabric to keep them at a decent height. Then they let out the gas in a measured way, and hope to land in open country.’

‘But “open country” could mean “miles from anywhere”, sir.’

‘Then they will have to walk to the nearest village where they can arrange for transport for themselves and the balloon. I find it all rather ridiculous, really.’

‘Absolutely,’ agreed Lady Elstead, whose attempt to engage Her Grace the Duchess of Bedford in conversation in her carriage on the other side had been doomed from the moment Lady Jersey’s carriage had drawn up beyond it, and ‘Silence’ had let her tongue run on more than Mr Soughton, though more interestingly to the duchess. Had it not been for the fact that Mr Newbold was now clearly making a push to engage Henrietta’s affections, Lady Elstead would have declared the whole afternoon a waste of time.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

There followed a week both Henrietta and Caroline preferred to forget. Henrietta was watching, as covertly as she might, Charles Henfield bringing Miss Yate out of her shell, and Henrietta was now jealous enough to wish that young lady were a crustacean that could be boiled. In addition, Mr Newbold was being ‘attentive’, and Henrietta was divided once more. It was a delicious feeling to have a man courting one, with envious eyes looking on, and it made one feel very pampered, but … Deep down there was that ‘but’. She tried telling herself that she was being missish, and what more could she want? That, of course, was fatal, because she knew just what the ‘more’ was, and the ‘more’ was invited to a very select dinner at Lady Leyburn’s house, select because her ladyship possessed few close friends, and was already giving out hints that her ‘dear Dorothea’ might well be about to contract a very good alliance. So, if Charles was lost to her, through her own stupid fault, it would be foolish in the extreme to not take advantage of what was, in the eyes of the world, a brilliant match, would it not? Yet she dreaded at every meeting that Mr Newbold would announce he wished to have a private interview with her uncle. She knew that Lady Elstead would say, with reason, that Mr Newbold was not only an eminently suitable husband but that he fulfilled the requirements for compatibility. Henrietta could not say that she disliked him in any way; in fact, she rather liked him. It was just that he was not Charles, the Charles she loved but had thrust from her. She ought to be clapped up in Bedlam.