’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. She accepted his rejoinder with a brief nod. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. He turned just in time to see Lucilla exchange an amused look with Hilary. She had maintained a B in each subject except History, which she occasionally felt compelled to strive for A’s in, considering she had lived through most of it.
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