“Why has Sarah got to come out? Why can’t she simply emerge?”

“That I cannot tell you, but George and Grace certainly could. I rather see it, I must say, Roderick. A girl has such fun doing her first season. There is nothing like it, ever again. And now we have gone back to chaperones and all the rest of it, it really does seem to have some of the old glamour.”

“You mean débutantes have gone back to being treated like hothouse flowers for three months and taking their chance as hardy perennials for the rest of their lives?”

“If you choose to put it like that. The system is not without merit, my dear.”

“It may be quite admirable, but isn’t it going to be a bit too exhausting for you? Where is Sarah, by the way?”

“She is always rather late for breakfast. How wonderfully these children sleep, don’t they? But we were talking about the season, weren’t we? I think I shall enjoy it, Rory. And really and truly it won’t be such hard work. I’ve heard this morning from Evelyn Carrados. She was Evelyn O’Brien, you know. Evelyn Curtis, of course, in the first instance, but that’s so long ago nobody bothers about it. Not that she’s as old as that, poor girl. She can’t be forty yet. Quite a chicken, in fact. Her mother was my greatest friend. We did the season together when we came out. And now here’s Evelyn bringing her own girl out and offering to help with Sarah. Could anything be more fortunate?”

“Nothing,” responded Alleyn dryly. “I remember Evelyn O’Brien.”

“I should hope you do. I did my best to persuade you to fall in love with her.”

“Did I fall in love with her?”

“No. I could never imagine why, as she was quite lovely and very charming. Now I come to think of it, you hadn’t much chance as she herself fell madly in love with Paddy O’Brien who returned suddenly from Australia.”

“I remember. A romantic sort of bloke, wasn’t he?”