Phoebe arrives at White-Ladies.
“The sailing of a cloud hath Providence to its pilot.” Martin Farquhar Tupper.
In the handsome parlour of Cressingham Abbey, commonly called White-Ladies, on a dull afternoon in January, 1712, sat Madam and her granddaughter, Rhoda, sipping tea.
Madam—and nothing else, her dependants would have thought it an impertinence to call her Mrs Furnival. Never was Empress of all the Russias...
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