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matter how distant, who live here in London?”
    “I am sorry, Anne, I cannot think of anyone. Papa was an only child, and your mother was Mama’s only sister,” Melissa said apologetically.
    Anne sighed and, rising from the Chippendale-style desk by the window, began to pace up and down the room while Melissa watched her anxiously from the sofa.
    They had been in London a month now, and Anne was beginning to fear that Lord Stanton was right. They would never succeed. At first things had been deceptively easy. They had arrived in London without mishap and Lord Stanton’s coachman had taken them to a respectable hotel. From there Anne had contacted an agent, and they were able to rent a townhouse with a good address for a reasonable rate since the Season had not yet begun. It was small, with only one drawing room, but it was attractively furnished, and both she and Melissa were pleased with it. They had staffed the house well at minimal expense by hiring servants who had little experience. Their butler was a former footman in his early twenties, their footman a young lad from the country and one of their housemaids a former scullery maid. What the servants lacked in experience they made up for in willingness, and on the whole, Anne was satisfied with their staff. Only in the matter of their cook was Anne not content. After their first meal of underdone lamb, she found herself thinking wistfully of the excellently prepared meals at Longworth.
    Transportation had been their next concern. Their butler, Benton, had told them they would need a carriage, and had undertaken to find one for them. He had discovered a used town carriage in good shape, and although Anne shuddered at the cost, she had purchased it. This had, of course, necessitated the acquisition of horses to draw the carriage. Benton again came to their rescue, locating a rather unmatched pair at a very reasonable price. Although Melissa was dubious, Anne had cared more about their sturdiness than the way they looked, and was grateful for the money she saved.
    The matter of their residence taken care of, Anne and Melissa had turned their attention to their wardrobes. After a conference with Sanders, they decided that Sanders would make their morning gowns and night dresses but that they would have their walking dresses and ball gowns made by a modiste. Melissa already had a fairly fashionable wardrobe, which needed only a few additions, but Anne had to purchase an entire new wardrobe. She knew that if she presented a shabby appearance it would not reflect well on Melissa. Although the rates charged by London modistes shocked her, Anne spent several delightful mornings with Melissa, selecting materials and styles from the wealth of choices available in the London shops.
    Then their luck had ceased. With no one to sponsor them, she and Melissa had no way of being invited to even the smallest rout or card party. They had remained in their well-staffed town house, in their new clothes, alone. Anne had racked her brains to remember someone she knew who might be in London, but without success. Melissa was her only hope. She resumed her questioning.
    “Then how about friends? There must be someone in London with whom you had acquaintance.”
    Melissa concentrated, her normally smooth forehead wrinkled in thought.
    “No, we spent all year at Amberly Hall. Papa didn’t care for Town. We were neighbours of Lord Franklin, but he and Lady Franklin will not arrive until later, if they come to London for the Season at all this year. It will be another year before his eldest daughter makes her come-out.”
    Melissa again looked at Anne apologetically, unable to come up with any other ideas.
    Anne put her hand to her head in exasperation, displacing her attractive muslin cap and giving herself a slightly saucy look.
    “There must be some avenue we are overlooking. Papa would...” Her voice trailed off. “That’s it! There must be some military families in residence. If only I