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to gossip, but she was well aware that the girl was longing to unburden herself.
    “Leave me now, Mary, and come back in about a quarter of an hour.”
    “Very good, Miss.”
    Mary moved the trunk from the centre of the room and set it against the wall.
    “I’ll finish the unpacking later, when you’ve gone down to dinner, Miss,” she said.
    As she reached the door she added,
    “I’m glad you’re here, Miss, real glad!”
    She left and Pandora, with a little frown between her brows, went on undressing.
    There had been a note of fear in Mary’s voice that she had not liked. It made her feel worried and apprehensive as to what was happening at Chart Hall.
    She knew she did not like the new servants and it was not just prejudice because the old staff had been dismissed.
    She wondered what her father and mother would have thought of the Earl.
    He was certainly very strange – perhaps “eccentric” was the right word – and yet, Pandora told herself, she did not dislike him as she had disliked on sight Sir Gilbert Longridge.
    ‘It is no use my having fads and fancies about these people,’ she thought. ‘I came here because I was desperate, and I must make the best of them, whatever they are like.’
    She could not, however, help feeling that it was all very strange, but she was certain of one thing – Prosper Witheridge would disapprove wholeheartedly of Kitty, Hettie, Lottie, and Caro, as the third actress was called.
    She had heard him say that Play-Houses were a snare for the unwary and a meeting-place of sinners.
    “I am sure after this he will not wish to own me,” she declared.
    Her thoughts shied away from what her uncle and aunt would say when they knew where she had been.
    “If the Earl will keep me,” she declared, “I will stay until Friday morning, for if I go back to the Palace earlier, Prosper will be waiting to berate me.”
    She could imagine how sanctimonious and pompous he would be about it. Almost as if thinking about him conjured him up, when Mary returned a little while later she said,
    “I was to tell you, Miss, as there’s a gentleman waiting to see you downstairs.”
    “A gentleman?” Pandora asked in surprise.
    “The footman says he’s a Parson, Miss.”
    Pandora’s heart gave a frightened leap.
    There was no doubt who her visitor was, but she had not expected him to be here so quickly.
    Then she realised it was seven o’clock and if he had arrived back at Lindchester a little earlier than she had expected he would have had time to get here after reading her letter.
    “I should have had it delivered tomorrow,” she told herself, but now it was too late.
    Mary was fastening her evening-gown.
    It had been one of her mother’s that she had altered for herself and she had packed it because she considered it to be her best. She felt too it was somehow right that it should be worn once again at Chart Hall.
    She was however well aware that it would seem very simple and perhaps out-of-date beside the flamboyant gowns that the actresses would wear, but their appearance, while colourful, was undoubtedly vulgar, and she knew that neither her father nor her mother would have approved of them.
    She was too agitated at the thought of Prosper Witheridge waiting for her downstairs to look at her reflection in the mirror.
    Instead, she clasped round her long neck the little band of turquoise-blue velvet which matched the ribbons of her gown, then she said to Mary,
    “I must go down. Is there anyone else downstairs?”
    “It’s unlikely, Miss. The housemaids say the ladies are never ready till the last moment, ‘cause they takes such hours apainting their faces.”
    Pandora stood irresolute for a moment, then she said,
    “Do you think, Mary, you could get one of the footmen to tell His Lordship who is here?”
    “Yes, of course, Miss, and he’ll tell His Lordship’s valet.”
    “Say that the gentleman to whom I sent a letter has called here to see me.”
    “Very good, Miss,” Mary