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scoundrels’ behavior, ordering Raintree and Barnhard to leave. Their departure caused more stir than the prank did.”
    “That is understandable. Most people do not condemn such harmless pastimes, even though damage was done in this instance. What did the other guests think?”
    “I only know what Emily reported when she told me of it the following day. She was upset over the giddy laughter with which her female guests greeted the news. Miss Simpson even derided Thorne as a pretentious old goat. I doubt we will see her in future. Emily’s own reaction was all that was proper. She vows to never speak to the perpetrators again as her way of showing disapproval, and she will cut them if their paths cross in town.”
    “Why?  Because they injured an innocent party?”
    “Of course not. He was only a stable boy. But they should not have abandoned their dignity to engage in such tricks. And they certainly should not associate with servants. They must have done so, or they could not have learned of Tom’s belief in spirits.”
    Amanda paused a moment, but decided that she must be herself. If her grandmother did not approve, there was nothing she could do to alter the situation. “I see nothing wrong with normal high spirits,” she declared, brushing the petals of a velvety red rose, her face half turned away. “It was unfortunate that they did not consider the potential consequences, but there is no reason to condemn them as scoundrels because of one boyish prank. They will grow up in time.”
    “You sound as though you endorse such behavior,” said Lady Thorne chillingly.
    “No, I do not. But I understand them. This accident will remain in their minds as an object lesson. I have seen it happen too often to doubt that they were appalled at the lad’s injury. We often saw young men who bought colors on a lark or from some romantic notion of vanquishing the evil Napoleon. Only after their first battle did they realize how serious war is, and how dangerous. Such a shock can produce a more sobering effect than any number of lectures.”
    Lady Thorne snorted.
    “Was Thorne satisfied to throw the lads out?” Amanda asked, not believing that the man could have changed that much.
    “No, he read Quinn a loud and very public lecture on his own moral laxity after church this past Sunday, decrying the viscount’s lack of supervision, his failure to set an example of proper behavior, and his inability to control his wife – the girl laughed over the incident before services. Thorne finished by calling Quinn’s propriety into question for allowing Mr. Hawkins to continue his visit and swore to get him dismissed as a justice of the peace. It has raised quite a furor.”
    “I can imagine.”
    “Quinn actually cut Thorne in the village yesterday.”
    “Thereby prolonging and intensifying the disagreement..” Amanda sighed. “But one can hardly blame him after such a mortifying attack.”
    “Yes,” agreed Lady Thorne. “Whatever the merits of his complaint, Thorne’s choice of fields on which to wage battle was unfortunate.”
    “I heard that Granny Gossich passed away recently,” Amanda commented, hoping to change the subject. Her father’s self-righteousness was too familiar to be interesting.
    “The old witch who lived in the woods outside Middleford?” Lady Thorne asked, surprised. “She died last month. Why?”
    “She was a close friend for many years,” admitted Amanda. “But she was no witch. Only a healer. Her skill with herbs was greater than all but the most enlightened doctors, and she knew much about treating injuries. I have often been grateful for what she taught me.”
    “How was it that Thorne allowed such an acquaintance?”
    “Do you seriously believe I let him dictate my friends?  I was an undutiful child – as he lost no opportunity to remind me – and often went off on my own. Sometimes it was to ride the moor or visit the tenants, but most often I went to Granny’s cottage. She