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girls laughed, though some were teary-eyed.
    â€œWe will, miss,” one of them said.
    â€œAnd thank you,” Miss Martin said, “for coming out here for the sole purpose of saying good-bye to me. I am deeply touched. You will go inside with Miss Walton and work extra hard to make up for the minutes you have missed of this class—
after
you have waved me on my way. Perhaps at the same time you would care to wave to Edna and Flora too.”
    She was capable of humor, then, even if only of a dry sort, Joseph thought as she set her hand in John’s, lifted one side of her cloak and dress, and followed the two girls inside the carriage.
    John climbed up onto the box and Joseph gave him the nod to proceed.
    And so the small cavalcade began its progress to London, sent on its way by the waving handkerchiefs of a dozen schoolgirls, some of whom were sniveling again while others called farewells to their fellow pupils who would never return but would proceed into the harsh world of employment—or so Susanna had informed Joseph. They were charity girls, among a sizable group that Miss Martin insisted upon taking in every year.
    He was half amused, half affected by what he had seen. It was like a glimpse into an alien world, one from which his birth and fortune had firmly insulated him all his life.
    Children without the security of a family and fortune behind them.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 
    By the time they stopped for the night at the Lamb and Flag Inn in Marlborough, where she had reserved two adjoining rooms, one for herself and one to be shared by Edna and Flora, Claudia was wondering if she could possibly have felt stiffer in the joints or more numb in certain nether parts of her anatomy if they had come by hired coach, as originally planned.
    But she knew from past experience that she could indeed. The Marquess of Attingsborough’s carriage was clean and well sprung and had luxuriously padded upholstery. It was the sad condition of the road and the long hours of almost incessant travel that were responsible for her physical condition.
    One blessing at least was that they had had the carriage to themselves all day, she and her two charges. The marquess had ridden the whole way, changing mounts when the carriage horses had been changed. Claudia had seen him only in fleeting glimpses through the window and at the various posting inns where they had made brief stops.
    He cut a remarkably fine figure on horseback, of course, she had noticed with annoyance each time it had happened. He was impeccably dressed for riding and looked perfectly at ease in the saddle—even after he had been riding for hours. Doubtless he considered himself God’s gift to the human race, particularly the female half—which was a totally unfair judgment, she conceded in the privacy of her own thoughts, though she made no great effort to amend her opinion of him. Of course it had been kind of him to offer his carriage for her convenience, but by his own admission he had done so in order to impress his family and friends.
    She was half relieved, half indignant at the prompt, meticulous service they had received everywhere they stopped. She knew it would have been far otherwise had she come in the hired coach. She and the girls were even served refreshments in the carriage instead of having to step inside the various bustling inns to be jostled by other travelers and to wait in line for their purchases.
    It had been a long and tedious day nonetheless, and there had been little conversation inside the carriage. The girls had been visibly depressed for the first hour or so and not at all inclined to talk or even look appreciatively at the passing scenery. And even when they had brightened after the first stop and the first round of refreshments, they had both been on their very best behavior in the company of their headmistress with the result that they scarcely spoke at all unless she directed specific questions