“You’re a dear, Robin. No, I chose this road, and we’ll stay.”
“I’ve a notion it may lead to some end. Play it out, my dear. Trickery it is, but we harm none.” Prudence looked sceptical. “Oh, you are thinking of the Grayson child! Never doubt me.”
“I don’t doubt you. But she thinks you are a woman, and there are things she may say you should not be hearing.”
“Do you think I cannot stop her? ’Tis I shall lead the talk. Be at rest, Prue.”
“And if she discovers the truth?”
“I don’t fear that.”
There seemed no more to be said. “We brave it to the end, then. Well, I’m content.”
Chapter 6
The Polite World Receives Mr and Miss Merriot
My Lady Lowestoft made no idle boast when she declared that all the world might be seen at her rout that evening. The world, as she knew it, was the Polite Society of the day; and Polite Society chose to venerate her ladyship. She had the felicity of seeing her salons filled to overflowing. Downstairs there were refreshments laid out in the dining-room; angel cakes, and ratafie; strange French concoctions and some of the late Sir Roger’s best Burgundy; sweetmeats of every known variety and French champagne, sparkling in the glasses, to go with them. There was a card room also, spacious enough to hold some few tables with comfort. Those who wished might escape from the chatter and the scraping of the fiddles in the saloons above, to seek a little quiet diversion here with a dice-box. My lady was fond of all games of chance herself, but her duties as hostess kept her tonight in the main rooms, where people came and went, gathered into knots for conversation, separated again to greet a new arrival, or lent an indulgent ear to the fiddlers scraping away at the back of the room.