Catherine felt a blush creep up her pallid cheeks when she realized that the ladies were not in the parlour receiving visitors and had to be brought to her. She hadn't meant to impose and would have gladly left her card to avoid an awkward situation. But as the butler insisted that she should follow, she did, looking around at what she considered a beautiful home.

She took a deep breath when she was left alone in the parlour, or well, as deep as her restrictive clothing allowed. This was all very uncomfortable. She didn't dare to sit down before being told to do so, and so she shifted her weight from one leg to the other while she looked around. It was a fine sort of drawing room. Not quite so elegant as their own, she decided with no small amount of bias, but still very pleasant. She particularly liked the French doors and she took a small step forward and stretched her neck to admire the patio behind it.

That gave her a fright. A young lady was sat in some kind of wicker chair by the windows, resting her head back. Miss Jane Ripley, Catherine assumed. Was she asleep? Catherine wasn't sure whether the butler knew that Miss Ripley was here and meant for her to approach, or whether that would be impolite. How uncomfortable, indeed! She finally settled on a compromise by coughing softly, loud enough to announce her presence if Miss Ripley was awake, but hopefully not loud enough to disturb her if not.