Ophelia had a fairly good impression of the girl so far, but the long silence before she answered made her wonder if she'd misjudged. It should not, after all, have been a difficult question.

When she did answer, however, Ophelia softened considerably. She attributed the awkward silence to grief — and quite understandably, given what had followed. She knew something of that herself, as a girl who had somehow ended up with her closest relation being an ancestor of over two hundred whom she had never met before being shipped off to be his ward. If she hadn't had Armando, she might have ended up very similarly to this poor creature — might have drifted down instead of up the societal ladder and found herself working for her daily bread.

She was too sensitive to the girl's predicament to make any inquiries into how her family had died, or how long ago. "Quite an admirable thing," she said softly. "Would you like a tour of the house, Miss Fox?"