” He said. You did not complain then that I personated you—no, nor when Sir John came to me in Paris, and for your sake I lied. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. She had known that Remenham House would be deserted, for Martha—released, as she had carefully explained to her charge, by her vows to God from servitude and obedience to Nicholas Charvill, a mere mortal—had begun a correspondence with a friend of her youth, Mrs Joan Ibstock, née Pottiswick. But let the horses be in readiness.
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