“Since before you were born, mistress.”
Robin put down the hare’s foot, and got up. “Ay, you’re devilish close, a’n’t you, John? Maybe you know what he’ll be at now?”
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” was all the answer vouchsafed him. “What’s to be your ladyship’s dress today?”
Robin came down to the coffee-room twenty minutes later in a dimity gown and pink ribands. The hood was cast aside in favour of a straw hat with rosettes, and more ribands, but Prudence, very sober in fawn breeches, and a coat of claret-coloured cloth, carried a fine mantle over her arm, which was presently put about Madam Robin’s shoulders.
Miss Letty was agog to be off. They set forward in good time, Robin and the lady seated demurely in the chaise, with the seeming Mr Merriot and Sir Anthony riding a little way behind, for escort.
There were questions, of course: Prudence was prepared for them and knew no faltering. She spoke of a home in Cumberland — it seemed remote enough — and of the Grand Tour. Sir Anthony had made it: that went without saying. They conversed of foreign towns amicably and safely. Prudence displayed a remarkable knowledge of places; indeed she had the greater part of Europe in her memory, as it were, and an intimate acquaintance with haunts unfrequented by the fairer sex. Once she saw the straight brows rise, and tranquilly awaited developments.
“You’ve seen a vast deal for your years, Master Peter,” said Sir Anthony.
“They number twenty, sir,” she replied. If the truth be told they numbered twenty-six, but she looked a stripling, she knew. “But I lived abroad with my parents some years before my mother’s death. She could not support the English climate.”
Sir Anthony bowed politely, and desired to know where Mr Merriot might be found in London.
“My sister is to visit my Lady Lowestoft, sir,” Prudence answered. “I am her escort, and I believe her ladyship will give me a lodging. Perhaps you are acquainted with her?”