No Conventional Miss. Eleanor Webster

I care?’

      ‘Because there were rumours that Lord Alfred was dangling after her and now she is off the market.’ Stepping into the room, Imogene sat elegantly on Rilla’s white-ruffled bed.

      ‘Oh...’ Rilla paused, frowning at her churn. She had not known that Imogene had so much interest in Lord Alfred although he visited frequently. ‘Then that is well, I suppose.’

      ‘Indeed, and he said he would call tomorrow and we could all go to the park if the weather improves.’

      Perhaps if he asked for Imogene’s hand, they could leave London. Yes, that would be best, although the idea left her strangely flat.