"It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Malstoyke," the young man pronounced, offering a modest bow.

Richard Dayne was indeed something to behold! A man straight out of a story book, be he some dashing rogue, knight, prince or great king, and I grudgingly had to agree with Marge Finnicktoff. Mr. Richard Dayne was a disturbingly gorgeous specimen.

"The pleasure is mine to be sure, Sir," I sensibly replied, grateful to have recovered my voice.

"And of course," he said, turning to the old gentleman who still watched me in his quiet way, "you must be familiar with my father."

He gave me a polite smile.

"Well for once rumours have proven true," he said at last. "You are fairer than they give you credit for, my dear."

To this, Ms. Cotts nodded with what was supposed to be a smile. Feminine giggles floated into the room, as the girls were all crowded in the hall, each one peeping her head in every now and then.

All I could do was blush.

"She is good gold, sir," came Cotts' flat toned praise. "With a kind heart and good nature, and a favourite with all the girls."

I stared incredulously at her. For Cotts to say such kind words in my presence was...alarming. She intimidated me even in daylight.

What in Gordorf's name is happening here?

She waved me to a chair.

"Come, Miss Malstoyke and have some tea. Prue is bringing a fresh pot."

Prue entered, looking, I'm glad to say, very sober and cheerful. She even looked quite handsome in her purple dress and polished shoes. Setting down the tray and bobbing a curtsy to the men, she said to me with unusual shyness,

"Careful now, Miss, it's fetchingly hot, Ms. Laggsby says. We don't want you to get scalded."

I thanked her warmly and she, looking mighty pleased at having remembered her message, left us in good spirits.

"Allow me," said Mr. Dayne as I was about to pour.

There was an expertise in his pouring and serving that left little to be desired. He must have been used to waiting on women, I decided after a moment's thought. This was peculiar since there weren't any women in the Dayne family—he hadn't a mother or sisters. Cousins perhaps, and also he could have been properly trained in etiquette since the family was not known to spare on anything that would enhance appearances in society—even the elder Mr. Dayne was known to be a charming flirt in his younger years. And what was more, few can say they'd ever actually seen Richard Dayne in person! He'd been a mystery to Gordorf despite the Daynes having a handsome estate in the upper parts which he was said to have grown up in, and which had been praised for its gardens and architecture for years.

There was no question about it: Mr. Richard Dayne made an impression on me.

For a start, anyway.

Ms. Cotts took a sip of her tea before focusing her sharp gaze on me.

"The Daynes were just telling me of their visit to Mrs. Ivanhallow, who, I'm glad to say, is recovering splendidly."

She reached for a small letter laying on the table near her and handed it to me.

"You may look over its contents at a later date, but do let Mr. Critchford tell you of the matter. It is important that you are aware."

I felt a little uneasy but acted as normal as was possible for Cotts' sudden attentiveness was most suspicious.

Mr. Critchford, adjusting his glasses and clearing his throat in a way that made me think of the gushing stream in the woods, looked to the old man and on receiving an encouraging nod began thus:

"Mr. Dayne proposes to restore the east wing of this... um...," he gently tapped his temple.

"Boarding home for young ladies," offered Richard Dayne, coming to his aid.

"Ah, yes–thank you, sir– this school, as it was agreed upon between Mrs. Ivanhallow and himself some months before her most unfortunate affliction."

"Months before, you say? I had know idea you were acquainted with Mrs. Ivanhallow."

The old man raised a hand as Mr. Critchford was about to speak.

"The dear woman is a relation of mine, Miss Malstoyke, a distant cousin if you please. And as I had spent a good many years abroad, it has struck me that she was not getting on as well as her yearly letters suggested. I had planned to come and make use of my services some years earlier but my health had made me unfit for the journey. Colds are nasty things," he added with a shudder.

"She has been speaking of this engagement for some time now," Cotts said to me.  "I meant to tell you of the matter—she had wished it so—however, things have been so busy as of late, there was no possible time."

No time. Nearly half my time spent in Gordorf was at Bedlaam and as I was not required to go about chores as the other girls and was, until the new curiosity arrived, oftentimes idle if not making calls. How there never was an appropriate time was something worth explaining.

Richard Dayne stared out the window during most of the conversation only occasionally glancing in our direction. He made quite an attractive picture at this angle and I thought what a lovely portrait he'd make. He smiled to himself at one point and I wondered what he found so entertaining outside since everyone was in the hall. Turning to his father, I said,

"I must admit that all this is quite bewildering. What has all this to do with me?"

Mr. Dayne's eyes flashed their approval. He leant forward on his cane.

"You haven't the slightest idea of your importance in this entire affair, do you?"

I admitted I had none.

He smiled.

"Mrs. Ivanhallow wishes you to oversee the refurbishment of the east wing in its entirety for she values your opinion and memory of it before Mr. Ivanhallow's demise."

"And as it is the home of ladies," added Mr. Critchford, "a woman's taste ought to be had during the proceedings which is to commence three months henceforth."

"My son will be overseeing the project in its entirety," Mr. Dayne said with a nod in the young man's direction.

I was at a loss for words. For Mrs. Ivanhallow to think so highly of me was astounding! I needed to speak to my uncle who would surely give some sensible advice.

And to be alongside Richard Dayne! Yes, there was something calculating and stern about the gorgeous man across the room, but I've never been one to be wholly intimidated by the opposite sex. What Eres Dacklefoy would think of this was an amusing thought!

A loud commotion of feminine giggles reached our ears.

"Prue! what is the meaning of—" Ms. Cotts began but stared open-mouthed as a bright-eyed young lady stopped by the door surveying our group with a pleasantly inquisitive air.

It would have been the most natural thing in the world, her standing there, if not that she were spattered from head to toe with brown muck of which I had no doubt would stain her simple yet becoming dress.

"Oh, dear," said Mr. Critchford as we observed our visitor.

"What...? I... But...?" Cotts was obviously at a loss for words.

"Gracious me!" came Prue's alarming cry as she held a tray of delicate sweets she was bringing from the kitchen.

Shooting a look at our guest I was surprised to see that the younger Mr. Dayne looked very well amused at the untimely intrusion.

"Sorry about my appearance, Madame... and Misters," she said, giving a surprisingly elegant curtsy and a smile for me.

I wanted nothing more than to sink through the floor.

"Miss Palton...?" was all Ms. Cotts managed to say.

Quistelle smiled in her modest way.

"I do beg pardon, Madame Cotts, but you see, someone left a pail of mud above the side door so that I was ladened with the filth. And I had gone to wash up only to find that my dresses had all been tossed outside the window—naturally they were terribly soiled—and the water bin was fairly dried. Madame Satcher is having one of her fits. Says there is a crack in the window and a deadly draft is getting inside," she added after a pause.

Ms. Petruny walked in just then from the second entryway humming a hymn (something she does when in good spirits) and gave a loud "Aye!"

"Mercy 'pon us, I say!" she cried in true Gordorfian fashion. "What a happen 'ere unda Bedlaam roof?!"

Ms. Cotts was on her feet at once and there was a wake of confusion as she gave commands, to any and everyone present; someone was sent up to Mrs. Satcher, another was to fetch water, someone was to clean the floors, and the clothes were to be hastily gathered and soaked in hot water. Ms. Petruny whisked Quistelle away as quick as a hurricane with Violet Partridge and Phoebe Fiatson at her heels. The Daynes and Mr. Critchford kindly offered assistance where they could.

My distress could not be greater as I sat amidst the turmoil. It was too much to imagine the humiliation Quistelle must have endured! Surely she was not as cool and composed as she presented herself, watching the events of the afternoon with earnest interest as though it were some play. I could almost see Eres Dacklefoy shedding merry tears at the chaos then and there!

"Well," said Mr. Dayne giving his cane a gentle rap upon the floor when everything had slightly settled down. "I suppose this little trifle ought to conclude our visit for now. I daresay, your Ms. Cotts is rather firm on those girls, isn't she?" And with a chuckle to himself, "Reminds me of my aunt Edna...."

I had followed the trio outside on the pretence of seeing them off. Truth was I wished to see if Susan was right about their horses being the finest chestnuts. And it was as she said, they were beauties. Richard Dayne, who had disappeared from the house earlier, was petting and conversing quietly with the horses. He stepped away when we came near.

Mr. Dayne turned to me suddenly.

"We will continue our discussion on a later date, Miss Malstoyke. I have some business in Leers to take care of. But Mr. Critchford shall inform you of any further details."

I curtsied. "Of course, sir."

He paused as he was about to climb into the waiting carriage, and turned back to me. "You know, I haven't been here in an odd thirty some years. It was a beautiful place then, I do remember! With sprawling lawns, hedges for the birds, and the orchard..." he chuckled and for a moment was lost in thought.

"Sir," his son said, bringing him back to the present.

"Ah, yes we must be off now," and to me, "We shall see each other again soon, my dear."

Having helped his father into the carriage, Richard Dayne said half heartedly, "I am sorry to not have spoken to Miss Palton. She was in quite a state that I'm sure my addressing her would've caused her some discomfort."

My head whipped in his direction.

"Miss Palton?" I repeated stupidly.

How and what in Dorfland! Had he met Quistelle before?  Richard Dayne was acquainted with my Morovi! Or was he? I couldn't make sense of it. I wondered if he might have been speaking of someone else. Impossible! He precisely said Palton and there weren't any Paltons beside her in all of Gordorf! So the suggestion of a mistake was naturally unfounded.

He gave me a smile that would have made Marge Finnicktoff numb in the knees.

"Well, do tell her I would have liked to see her, will you?" 

At an utter loss for words, I curtseyed and watched the carriage roll away in style.

The girls rushed outside.

"Come back soon!" Ammie screamed so near my ears that they were ringing.

"Yes, do come!" Susan added waving her scarf after the carriage.

"We shall be dreadful without them," said Harriet, twisting her hair.

I didn't imagine they were any different before them.

~

"What do you mean you've met him?"

I was resting on the window seat eyeing my prey as she sat all neat and tidy upon the floor braiding and unbraiding a chord of rope.

"What do you mean by saying what did I mean?" she said at last. "I meant precisely what I said, that I have met Mr. Dayne." She looked up from her work. "I shall change the wording of it, if that would suit you," she said politely.

"No! I'm not an idiot!"

"I would never suggest you were, Miss Malstoyke," she said very seriously.

"Please, stop calling me Miss Malstoyke, Quistelle. I am Lia to you, hadn't we agreed on that?"

"It is proper –"

"Dash properness for all I care! I am your company now!" I said viciously plumping a cushion. I took a deep breath. "I am sorry."

She smiled, tilting her head so that her wet locks fell gracefully down her shoulders like a waterfall. Without a word she held out the rope she'd been braiding. I made it out to be a little doll with arms and legs.

"I used to make them for the village children—if they weren't too particular about playthings."

I put a finger to my lips.

"Not here. We'll talk someplace else."

There was silence for a minute and I watched her as she gazed about her bare room, a distant look in her bright eyes. There was so much to this mysterious girl.

"I met him at the golshrod."

I looked startled. "The what?"

She gave me a queer look. "The golshrod. I assume it would be Gordorf's make of it considering one buys and sells as they like."

I thought hard for a minute, then it came to me.

"The market, you mean?"

She sighed, never taking her eyes off the peeling paper on the wall.

"Yes, yes, the market, that is what the common folk say."

"Who was with you?"

I imagined what the girls might've thought as they witnessed the prestigious Richard Dayne acquainting himself with their Halstung Mist.

"Oh, I had gone alone."

"Alone? Surely you didn't go alone?! "

"Indeed I did, Miss Lia." She added after a pause, "Well, something like that, anyway. He never would have noticed me if he had not been so stubborn!"

She frowned.

"Those cankaloons caused him to lose his senses! And canko nuts are not very good pressed, so why should he have been so fond of them?" She hugged her knees. "The smell I suppose," she muttered.

"Quistelle, I'm dreadfully confused. You certainly aren't speaking of Mr. Dayne, are you?"

She laughed. "Goodness no! To think of Mr. Dayne running about eating all the sweet things as he did! What a sight that might have been, though!"

She's out of sorts, I thought sadly. The pail must have hit her in the head...

"He spoke of you before leaving with his father."

Her smile was gone and those eyes darted in my direction. She looked at me for a moment before saying quietly, almost with an air of secrecy, "What did he say?"

"Only that he had wished to speak to you, but unfortunately you were too preoccupied with... the mess of yourself."

She stared at me long and hard as though suspicious of something.

"That's all he said!" I cried, bothered by her silent gaze. Her expression became thoughtful. Then she offered me a smile.

"Well, I thank you for speaking to him, as I am sure anyone would be pleased with your company."

I could've admitted I hadn't actually spoken to him, but my mind was elsewhere, and for a good many minutes I floated among my thoughts.

"I daresay, today was an interesting one, Miss Lia."

She looked at me with a thoughtful air, then smiled dreamily.

"I think we'll share some interesting experiences together—like real friends do."

"Later now," she said when I opened my mouth to speak. "Dinner's about ready and I'm tired. And you've much to think about."

Thus ended our talk, for the dinner bell rang and I was obliged to leave our Morovi as she rocked back and forth, humming some strange tune while staring at the peeling paper on the wall.