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could easily be misconstrued as criticism. ‘I do not find fault, you understand,’ he said.
    â€˜I do not like being teased either, Mr Easter,’ she confessed. ‘It makes me blush.’ And she blushed to confess it.
    â€˜If you will allow me the honour of the next dance,’ he said, feeling marvellously gallant, ‘I promise I will not tease you.’
    So she allowed him the honour of the next dance, and the next and as many more as Miss Pettie and propriety permitted. And they told one another how splendid it was that the long war was over at last, and she confessed that she had always been afraid of the dark in case the French had invaded and were lurking just around the corner, and he told her that dark nights could be uncommon beautiful, ‘all by yourself with only the stars for company’. And for a brief moment he wondered whether he might ask her to take a turn about the square in the darkness of this particular night, and thought better of it because it would have seemed presumptuous, and in any case the square was full of stalls.
    But it was time for the first interval and refreshments, so the offer wasn’t made and they went in to supper together instead.
    â€˜This is my very first ball,’ Harriet confessed.
    â€˜Then may it be the first of many.’
    â€˜I never ever thought I would dance in the Athenaeum,’ she said, as they walked up the grand staircase together. ‘I’ve dreamed of it often enough, but I never thought my dream would come true.’
    â€˜This is a night for dreams to come true,’ he said. ‘One of mine came true at dinner.’
    â€˜Did it really,’ she said, all eyes and interest.
    So he told her about it, how he’d planned to extend the business, how the plans were written ‘down to the last little detail’, how they’d all expected his mother to marry and hand over control of the firm to her new husband, and how she’d changed her mind and given it to him and Billy instead. ‘I still can’t believe it,’ he said. ‘It’s too good to betrue. But I mean to make a great success of it, you may depend on that.’
    â€˜I know exactly how you feel,’ she said, smiling happily at him. ‘And I’m sure you will.’
    â€˜Capital ball, eh?’ Billy said as he breezed past them with four glasses of fruit punch balanced on a tray.
    And for the first time in his life John wasn’t prevaricating when he agreed.

Chapter Two
    When the final gallop of the Grand Subscription Ball shrieked to a boisterous finish, it was well after two o’clock in the morning and Harriet Sowerby was beginning to feel anxious. She had never sat up later than a quarter past ten in all her life, and at midnight she’d been drenched with fatigue. Now, glancing fearfully at the clock like a pale Cinderella, she was wondering what sort of reception she would receive when she finally got home to Churchgate Street.
    Mr Easter returned her to her table, where Aggie Turnkey and the two Miss Browns were waiting with old Miss Pettie, and after a flurry of leave-taking and a confusion of movement and departure, she climbed into Miss Pettie’s chaise for the second time that evening for the return trot about the town. But where she had been quivering with excitement on the way out, she was rigid with apprehension on the way back. And the nearer she got to her home, the more afraid she was. Churchgate Street was a mere hundred yards from the Athenaeum so she could have walked home if Miss Pettie had allowed it, and perhaps got back a little earlier, but the old lady had insisted on delivering each of her charges ‘to the door, my dears’, and that meant taking a round trip all about the town, for Aggie lived in Pump Lane in the easternmost corner and the two Miss Browns had a modest house beside the Risby Gate, and of course Miss Pettie delivered them to their doors first,