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. He had very nearly cleared the board, when a knock was heard below, and descending at the summons, he found his two janizaries. “Then we must try and make London endurable for you,” he remarked cheerfully. It is she that I must see. He was as hard as a rock. And, as usual,” she continued, a little bitterly, “I seem to have been sent along with the dullest and least edifying of Mrs.
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