" CHAPTER XV. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face. ’ ‘I’m that sorry, miss,’ Kimble said glumly. A riding-habit is all I have seen. ’ ‘Was it?’ Her lips twitched. “I’ll ruin your suit. ” True summer descended like a sticky fever upon August’s arrival, bringing with it miasmas of humidity that seemed to hang from the trees like mucus. . “I had a dream in the night,” she said. No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own.
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