It had not been precisely an invitation, but she had nothing better to do, so she permitted herself to be directed to the very gracious library, lined with books on three sides, many of them leather bound and tooled in gold. She was curious to see that several of the handsomest, as well as many bound in ordinary cloth, had been printed by Farraline & Company. They covered a very wide variety of subjects both factual and fictional. Several well-known authors were represented, both living and from the past.

She selected a book of verse and settled herself in one of the half dozen or so large armchairs and opened it to read. The room was almost silent. Through its heavy door she could not hear the sounds of the household beyond; there was only the faint crackle of a fire in the grate and the occasional tapping of a leaf as the wind caught it and sent it against the window.

She lost track of time, and was startled when she looked up to see a young woman standing in front of her. She had not heard the door opening.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to startle you,” the woman apologized. She was very slender, and quite tall, but her form was forgotten the moment one saw her face. She was one of the loveliest creatures Hester had ever seen; her features were subtle and delicate, yet full of passion. Her skin was fair with that radiance peculiar to auburn coloring, her hair thick in a wild halo around her head, the rich shades of bronzed leaves. “Miss Latterly?”

“Yes,” Hester said, gathering her wits. She laid the book aside.

“I am Eilish Fyffe,” the young woman introduced herself. “I came to tell you that luncheon is served. I hope you will join us?”

“Yes please.” Hester rose to her feet, then turned, remembering to replace the book.

Eilish waved her hand impatiently. “Oh leave it. Jeannie will put it away. She can’t read, yet, but she’ll find the place it came from.”

“Jeannie?”

“The maid.”