‘There is certainly a difference between works one might admire for their skill and evocation, and those one would, as you say, live with upon the walls of one’s house.’ Mr Newbold sounded conciliatory, but Lord Henfield felt there was a degree of patronising also.

‘Well, you would not want this odd-looking lady staring at you every day, to be sure,’ murmured Henrietta, who had turned to view a portrait subscribed, in gold lettering, ‘Hermione’.

‘Indeed, although Mrs Bartley, the actress, is most definitely not “odd-looking” in real life.’

‘Oh, you mean …’

‘Alas, yes, Miss Gaydon. Personally, I cannot understand how it passed for exhibiting. Its only advantage would seem to be a brevity of title.’

‘My sister, Henrietta’s mother, and I were painted by Romney as infants,’ sighed Lady Elstead, as though she remembered it well, although in truth she had been but four years of age and had absolutely no recollection of it.

‘His portraiture of children has rarely been surpassed, ma’am.’

‘I do know that my mama was so entranced with it that I believe she had it hung in her bedchamber.’

Henrietta noted the uncertainty, and the implication that whilst Lady Elstead’s mother was delighted to have a picture of her progeny in her private chamber, she had been less inclined to have them there in person. At this point, Lord William, who had been conversing with a gentleman at the far end of the gallery, approached, and was introduced. After a short interchange, he and Mr Newbold moved on. Both Mr Felbridge and Lord Henfield were glad of this. In an effort to engage his cousin in conversation and exclude Lord Henfield, Mr Felbridge deployed his classical learning to expand upon the scene with Achilles that Henfield considered unappealing. Never had studying Greek literature shown itself so useful in day-to-day life, and he warmed quickly to his theme. Henrietta was polite, but not encouraging, although once in his stride, her cousin appeared unstoppable, and at least he stopped talking in half sentences.

Lord Henfield, seeing Henrietta’s lack of interest, hid a smile. It was her turn to be ‘discomfited’. He applied himself to entertaining Miss Felbridge, which ought not to have been difficult, since they could both of them talk about the pictures without pretending any deep knowledge. However, with his experience of young ladies primarily through long contact with Henrietta, he found that she did not respond in the way that he had anticipated, and that conversation was a little ponderous.

Lady Elstead was congratulating herself on the ‘success’ of the expedition, when a voice behind her made her freeze.

‘It is all very well, Martley, but I still say it is not a patch upon the “Rebecca at the Well” we have at Hazelton.’

‘But Mama … Oh, here is Miss Gaydon, and Miss Felbridge and, of course, Lady Elstead. Good morning, ladies, Felbridge, Henfield.’