Daylight, or to be more exact, a sun within two hours of its zenith, found Caroline sitting upon Henrietta’s bed. Neither young lady looked fully awake, or well rested. Caroline was dressed in a soft wrapper over her nightgown, and had dispensed with her slippers. She was looking down at her toes, and wriggling them absent-mindedly.

‘I hope it is not so sultry this evening. The heat made things … difficult last night.’ She stifled a yawn.

‘Mmm.’ Henrietta still had her eyes closed, and her cup of chocolate stood cooling and untouched at her bedside.

‘Henrietta?’

‘Mmm?’

‘Er, nothing.’ Caroline was caught between wanting, quite desperately, to tell her cousin the long list of Lord Martley’s virtues, and her intent to help him by being cautious and circumspect. ‘Do you look forward to running your own house? I mean, does it frighten you at all?’

‘What?’ Henrietta opened her eyes, and frowned. ‘Frighten me? No, why ought it to do so? I have been running much of the day-to-day affairs at home for ages. Papa does not want to be bothered with preserves and sheets and whether the scullery maid needs a tooth drawn.’

‘Of course, your position is different. I … I have not had to deal with anything like that, yet. And of course, it does depend upon the size of the establishment.’

‘Were you thinking of a palace, cousin?’

‘No.’ Caroline’s thoughtful expression changed into a grin. ‘I can think of nothing worse than living in anything so huge and formal.’

‘I do not think the maids would have to wear feathers in their hair as we did for presentation, though.’

‘Goodness, no.’ She paused. ‘I do not think it is the size of the house that is important, but rather the happiness in it.’

‘Is that going to be your profound statement of the day?’ Henrietta stretched.

‘Do you know, I think it shall be.’ Caroline slid her feet back into her slippers, and stood up. ‘Are we not engaged to walk in the park with the Misses Fairburn this afternoon?’

‘Yes, but they said that they would not knock until half past four o’clock at the very earliest.’

‘Might we go to Hookham’s before luncheon, then? I have a book to take back, and Jane Trusham was telling me about The Prisoner of Chillon, and I still have not read it.’

‘Yes, that will not take us long. I confess I do not seek a very active day’ – Henrietta sounded languorous – ‘and I think we are dining with the Soughtons, which I am not looking forward to, because “Young Gerald” is a perfect bore, but thinks himself so amusing, and his mama agrees with him.’