Read Place of Confinement for Free Online Page A

and a chance to consider the business of Miss Verney’s disappearance.
    It would seem, she thought as she crept along the creaking gallery and down the stairs, that Aunt Manners had also anticipated a marriage between Letitia Verney and the master of Charcombe. What was it she had said? ‘I must know that the foolish girl is got back and everything is settled.’
    Dido paused in the great hall where a newly lit fire was just roaring and spluttering into life, sending out blue threads of smoke and little showers of sparks which fell harmlessly on the flagged floor. It would be a suitable alliance, she thought. For Miss Verney – by Mr George’s account – was ‘an heiress’, and Mr Fenstanton was a substantial landowner. At least, it would be suitable to mature eyes. To a lively young woman of nineteen it might present a rather different aspect. Mr Lancelot was a fine man, but he could no longer claim to be young  …
    Was it possible that Miss Letitia herself resented the wishes of her elders; and could resentment have played a part in her sudden removal from Charcombe?
    As Dido tugged open the heavy front door and stepped out into the sunshine, an uncomfortable thought occurred. Supposing the unknown Miss Verney felt herself to be as much oppressed by her family as she, Dido, did? Was it fair, or kind, to join in the poor girl’s pursuit?
    But then, she reassured herself, elopement was such a very dangerous course. A girl of nineteen put herself in such grave danger by removing herself from her friends. It could not be wrong to promote her return.
    The air in the garden was still and damp, the grass was silvered with dew, and a thin mist was lying over the lower lawn; but the sun was just breaking through, gilding the mist and filling the world with the promise of another warm day. Wood pigeons murmured in the trees by the gates and a thrush was singing above the hall door.
    And Dido was not the only one to have been drawn out early by the beauty of the morning. Mrs Bailey was already walking along that part of the terrace which fronted the east wing of the house.
    Reckoning that improving her acquaintance with Mrs Bailey might be a suitable beginning of the great quest, Dido turned along the terrace and came upon the lady just as she paused to look in through one of the house windows. She was shading her eyes against the sun and pressing her nose to the glass in an effort to see within, in a very odd, impertinent manner.
    ‘Good morning, Mrs Bailey.’
    ‘Oh!’ The lady turned with both hands clasped dramatically to her heart. ‘Oh, Miss Kent! Vous me surprenez! ’ And then, with pale shock rapidly giving way to blushing consciousness: ‘I was just … looking in upon the east wing, you know,’ she said, as if it were the kind of thing which anyone might do.
    ‘Oh!’ Dido could not help but look over Mrs Bailey’s shoulder at the window – catching a glimpse, through a half-closed blind, of gloom, uncarpeted floor, and a few articles of furniture obscured by dust sheets.
    ‘This part of the house is all closed up, you know,’ ran on Mrs Bailey hurriedly. ‘This wing is not used. And so, I thought I would just take a little look … to see what kind of repair it is in. I wonder that dear Lancelot has allowed it to fall into such a bad state.’
    Dido felt her own acquaintance with the gentleman to be too slight to allow any comment, but, peering into the half-empty apartment, she noticed that the plaster was, in places, darkened by damp, and she was inclined to agree with Mrs Bailey. Perhaps, she thought, Mr Fenstanton, though rich in land, was rather poor in cash. Such a circumstance would make ‘an heiress’ particularly lovely in his eyes …
    But, before she was able to pursue this train of thought any further, her companion claimed her arm with alarming familiarity, turned her away to the lawn and compelled her to walk. ‘I wish most particularly to talk to you, tête-à-tête, my dear Miss