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says the blow to the head is not serious but that the woman seems weak as if she had been ill. We are likely to have her on our hands for ages if we can’t identify her and find her relatives, and I will need her room for wedding guests. And her family will be concerned. David is having inquiries made about her on the coaching routes.” With a practical shrug she abandoned a problem which could not be helped. “Now, I must go and dress for dinner. And before you say a word, Beth,” she added quickly, “you are dining with us. I warned you to bring at least one evening gown so you have no excuse.”
    “The rigors of the journey?” queried Beth drily.
    Jane was immediately contrite. “How thoughtless of me. Of course you will have a tray here.”
    “Oh no,” said Beth with a laugh. “If I’m to ape the aristocracy I may as well start now. You know I am not easily tired, Jane, and yes, I did bring not one but two presentable gowns.”
    Jane kissed her friend. “Wonderful. Now all I have to do is make a match for you. Randal’s father is a duke, though elderly and rather frail....”
    “Jane,” warned Beth in her best schoolroom tone.
    “Or Mortimer, perhaps,” mused Jane mischievously. “Oh no, I forgot. He doesn’t believe in marriage.”
    “A parson who doesn’t believe in marriage?”
    “For himself. He believes in a celibate priesthood.”
    “Goodness!”
    “I have it,” said Jane as she opened the door. She smiled naughtily as she looked back. “Sir Marius is just the man for you.”
    Before Beth could voice the objection on her lips, Jane was gone. Beth knew she had turned pink. What was it about the dratted man? The notion was ridiculous on every count. Apart from inequality of rank and fortune, they would be a laughingstock when her head hardly reached the middle of his chest.
    Still, for some quite ridiculous reason, the memory of being swung to the ground as if she were a tiny child returned and brought a disturbing sensation. Sternly, Beth disciplined herself. Jane had been teasing and Beth wasn’t at Stenby in search of a husband. She would enjoy a little interlude among High Society and then return contentedly to her brother’s home and her role of favorite aunt.

3
    T HE PARTY which met in the drawing room before dinner that night consisted of all who had been at the cricket match as well as Sir Marius, Beth, and the Marquess of Chelmly. The marquess bore a distinct familial resemblance to Lord Randal, Beth noted, but lacked his beauty. He was both more solid and softer and his coloring was muted as if a layer of dust covered his brother’s brilliance, turning golden curls to ashen and bright blue eyes to gray.
    The drawing room was paneled in richly carved birch and contained a magnificent modern marble fireplace. It could have been a room in any grand house. The dining room, however, was another matter. Beth was fascinated to see that the walls were still unadorned stone, many feet thick. The stone fireplace looked large enough to roast an ox in and the two doors were solid oak hinged with heavy black metal. Beth looked forward to exploring more of this wonderful old building.
    First, however, she had to survive eating amongst the high and mighty. She was pleased to note that her gown was adequate for the occasion. In the county dress was moderate. The pale green silk Beth had made up with the help of her sister-in-law held its own, especially as they had employed an embroideress to decorate the neckline and hem. She had even been given a maid who had managed a charming arrangement of her ginger curls. Beth was feeling very grand.
    And, despite the presence of a duke and duchess, the gathering was not formal. The fourteen people who sat down at the long table were all friends or relatives and the talk was general.
    Beth’s self-assurance took a knock, however, when she found herself seated between Sir Marius and the devilishly handsome Mr. Verderan. With his lean tanned face and