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Minister in the new Government?" Rosina asked eagerly.
    He put his finger to his lips.
    "Let us not count our chickens before they're hatched, my dear."
    "But Papa, just how many chickens are there in this particular hen run?"
    His eyes twinkled, but he would say no more.
    *
    For the next few days Rosina simply enjoyed being at home. She went shopping with Mama and bought herself an elegant inlaid box with a dainty key that secured it firmly.
    "I had one like that," Lady Clarendon said wistfully. "I used it to keep letters from my admirers."
    "But of course when you married Papa you destroyed them," Rosina said.
    "There's an excellent hat shop over there," her Mama said hastily. "Let us visit it."
    Rosina also used the box for love letters, but they were Miss Draycott's. Everything she had taken from her friend's room went in, including Arthur Woodward's picture and a lock of his hair.
    Having locked it, she hid it away at the bottom of her wardrobe. There it would stay until she was ready to use the contents to ruin Arthur Woodward.
    The only thing that marred Rosina's pleasure in being
    home was the absence of her brother, Charles. He was seven years her senior, a handsome, strapping fellow with a cheerful disposition and a love of outdoor life.
    He had rejected with horror his father's plans for him to study law, choosing instead to enter the Navy. Having mastered his disappointment, Sir Elroy was now extremely proud of his son, who had merited fast promotion, and was now a Lieutenant.
    Now he was somewhere on the high seas, and they were all hoping against hope that he could return home in time for his sister's ball. But it did not seem likely.
    Despite the gap in their ages he and Rosina had always been very close. He was a good listener, and never became bored when she confided her childish hopes and fears.
    If he had been here she knew she could have told him about Miss Draycott. Now there was only Sir John, and she no longer felt that she could talk to him, although he was living under the same roof.
    Gradually she realised that at least Sir John had the decency not to annoy her with his presence. He seldom appeared at breakfast, was gone during the day, and was frequently absent in the evening.
    "He's a rising star in the party," Sir Elroy said. "Everyone knows he's headed for high office one day, and all the young ladies are setting their caps at him. Some fellows in my club are even offering odds on which filly will romp home with the prize."
    "Really, my dear!" his wife exclaimed, scandalised. "There is no need to be vulgar."
    "Nothing vulgar about it," her spouse protested. "Everyone knows that when a young man has brains and looks, and is clearly headed for success, then he can take his pick."
    "Well, I agree with Mama, that it's vulgar," Rosina said stiffly. "Sir John isn't a poor man. He surely doesn't need to marry for advantage. It's disgraceful."
    Her father stared.
    "Disgraceful? Surely, my dear, you're being unnecessarily hard on him?"
    "Nobody seems to care about love any more," Rosina said passionately. "But I say it's the most important thing of all."
    "Of course it is," Mama replied placidly. "But worldly advantage has to be thought of as well. As you say, Sir John isn't poor but political life is very expensive."
    She seemed suddenly struck by an idea.
    "I know who would be ideal for him. Lettice Holden. Her father is enormously rich. Of course it's a pity he's only a tradesman. But I suppose you can't have everything."
    "He's one of the wealthiest manufacturers in the country," Sir Elroy protested.
    "And what is a manufacturer but a glorified tradesman?" his wife demanded. "Mind you, with all that money he could afford to buy a title. Then he could sit in the House of Lords, and enter political life that way."
    "You're right," he said, much struck. "It could be an excellent marriage for John."
    "We must do all we can to promote it," Lady Clarendon said.
    Rosina regarded them, aghast. How could her