She had known that Remenham House would be deserted, for Martha—released, as she had carefully explained to her charge, by her vows to God from servitude and obedience to Nicholas Charvill, a mere mortal—had begun a correspondence with a friend of her youth, Mrs Joan Ibstock, née Pottiswick. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. Her heels made contact with Rhea’s knees and hobbled her with a crack. She had been in the drawing-room for a few minutes before the gong had sounded, and had chattered gaily to every one. ” “I suppose we are,” said Vee, rearranging the flowers in her hand. She felt it would save explanations if she did not state she had left her home and was looking for employment.
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