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the same time.
    Richard and Lady Elizabeth saw the firm little chin harden and the grey eyes flash. “My love . . began Lady Elizabeth uneasily,
    Lavinia turned, smiling sweetly, “Yes, cousin?”
    “Oh, it is nothing. It was just that for a second you looked …” She swallowed hurriedly. “That is … But there, I was imagining it. just a trick of the sunlight and no more.”
    Lavinia said nothing.

    By the time Lavinia had donned her cloak and bonnet, the atmosphere in the breakfast room had lightened considerably. Having repeatedly refused Richard’s earnest otters to escort her, she left him whistling tunelessly under his breath as he consumed a breakfast, which only half. an hour ago he had felt totally unable to face.

Chapter Three
    Lavinia stepped into Lady Elizabeth’s smart town carriage, the cost of which had made even that intrepid spender blench a little, and with a deft flick of his whip, the postilion urged the horses forward. Half an hour later he was setting Lavinia down outside Hoare’s imposing building. Ignoring the disapproving look he gave her, she firmly dismissed him, rejecting his suggestion that he walk the horses outside the bank until she had completed her business. Forestalling the arguments she saw trembling on his lips, she instructed him, “If Lady Elizabeth should enquire for me, you may tell her I may be a couple of hours.”
    Since this was contrary to his instructions, which had been to set Miss down outside the bank, wait tor her, and then convey her back to Lady Eli2abeth’s house, he pondered for a few seconds, chewing thoughtfully on his tobacco, whilst he martialled his thoughts. However, before he could utter another word, Lavinia had tripped firmly up the steps and disappeared from sight. As she entered the Bank, cool and dim after the bright sunshine of the street, Lavinia admitted to herself’ a reeling of’ extreme nervousness, and would even have welcomed Lady Elizabeth’s frivolous presence.
    Her footsteps seemed abnormally loud on the tiled floor as she approached the clerk, clutching her reticule, in which reposed the all-important letter from the late Dowager Countess’s man of business. At first the clerk affected not to notice her, fiddling busily with his ledgers.
    She coughed gently. “Er, excuse me, could I see Mr. Hoare, please?” she asked, a little nervously.
    The clerk’s eyebrows threatened to disappear into his wig. He put down his quill with great deliberation, glancing repressively at her. “I’m sorry, Miss …?”
    “My name is Miss Lavinia Davenham, the Dowager Countess of…”
    The frown disappeared with miraculous speed, the doleful face broke into a smile. “Ah, yes, of course …Just one moment, Miss Davenham, I shall enquire if Mr. Hoare is free to see you. Please take a seat.”
    He indicated the chairs grouped uninvitingly round a stout table, bristling with inkstands, quills and important looking headed notepaper. She sat down carefully and immediately wished she had not as the leather creaked noisily. She glanced round hurriedly. However, no-one was paying the slightest attention. “Don’t be so foolish.” she admonished herself, “There is nothing to be frightened of.” But despite this stiff counselling. she could not help feeling relieved when. after what seemed like an age, the clerk reappeared.
    “Ahem. lf you will just come this way, Miss Davenham.”
    A few minutes later she was being ushered into a well-appointed office and greeted by a jovial, fatherly man, completely at variance with her own ideas of a shrewd and successful banker.
    “Ah, Miss Davenham, pray allow me to introduce myself, I am Jonathon Hoare,” He shook his head. “I had the pleasure of knowing your grandmother quite well, before
    she went to live in Rome of course.” He removed his glasses, polishing them carefully, all the while watching his young visitor speculatively. A Davenham all right, one look was enough to tell him that, and with her