Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. Her father read a draft prospectus warily, and her aunt dropped fragments of her projects for managing while the cook had a holiday. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. Michelle shrugged her off. "Let me look at the paper. The one I have is a duplicate. Nor, indeed, did she want to refuse.
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