“Did she tell you why she had come?”
“No. I asked her, of course, but she is such a silly little missish thing that she would do nothing but cry, and say she was a wicked girl. Do you know what I think, Richard?”
“Probably.”
“Well, it’s my belief she came to meet someone. She seems to me exactly the sort of female who would feel romantic just because there is a full moon. Besides, why else should she be here at this hour?”
“Why indeed?” agreed Sir Richard. “I apprehend that you have little sympathy to spare for such folly?”
“None at all,” said Pen. “In fact, I think it’s silly, besides being improper.”
“You are severe!”
“I can tell by your voice that you are laughing at me. I expect you are thinking of my climbing out of a window. But I was not going to meet a lover by moonlight! Such stuff!”
“Fustian,” nodded Sir Richard. “Did she disclose the identity of her lover?”
“No, but she said her own name was Lydia Daubenay. And no sooner had she told me that than she went off into another taking, and said she was distracted, and wished she had not told me. Really, I was quite glad when she decided to go home without waiting for you.”