through was part of the estate. There were orchards

and farms and groups of other, much smaller houses

as well. These were the cottages in which the servants

lived, and where the blacksmith, tinsmith, and tanner

plied their trades. There was even a smokehouse for

the curing of fresh bacon, ham, sausage, and all sorts

of meat-based delicacies that would nowadays be pur-

chased in a supermarket, uninterestingly wrapped in

plastic.

And Penelope noted with delight: There was a barn

big enough to house a whole herd of ponies, with their

long, lovingly brushed tails and red ribbons braided

prettily through their manes—oh, how Penelope wished

the job were already hers! But the interview was still

ahead, and she resolved to keep her wits about her.

The driveway approaching the main entrance

curved around formal gardens of great beauty, now

tinged with the first brushstrokes of autumn color. The

coachman brought the carriage straight to the front of

the house and assisted his passenger brusquely to the

ground. A kind-faced, square-built woman of middle

age was waiting to greet the new arrival.

“Miss Lumley, I presume?”

Penelope nodded.

“I’m Mrs. Clarke, the head housekeeper. Thank

goodness you’ve arrived! Lady Constance has been

asking for you every quarter hour the whole blessed

day. Don’t make such a stricken face, dear. You’re not

late. Lady Constance tends to be impatient, that’s all

it is. But look at you—you’re hardly more than a child

yourself! Jasper, see to her bag, please!”

The carpetbag was whisked inside by a young man

who appeared from nowhere. As for the trunk of books,

which the coachman was struggling to lift—“Leave that

in the carriage for now,” Mrs. Clarke directed. She jan-

gled the large ring of keys she wore at her waist and

gave Penelope an appraising look. “Until we see how

things go.”

Mrs. Clarke hustled her directly to the drawing

room in such a flurry of chatter Penelope barely had

time to gape at the grandeur of the house’s vast inte-

rior. Still, it was impossible to ignore the sheer size

and quantity of the rooms, the plushness of the car-

pets underfoot, the curtains of sumptuous velvet, the

way the woodwork shone with the burnished glow of

a dark jewel.

The drawing room had been prepared for the inter-

view as if it were a stage set, with two chairs drawn

near each other and a tea tray already in place on the