All the servants fit to be seen stood lined up in front of the porch to receive the eldest daughter of the McPadraic family. Arthur stood in front of them, legs apart like a man who was used to taking up space physically and metaphorically, and hands folded behind his back. He squinted as the carriage rolled in. It was a warm and dry summer evening. Birds sang in the hedges that separated the front lawn from the gardens. There was the sweet smell of flowers coming from the other side. The low evening sun seemed to light up the mansion and coloured the marble porch a feeble pink. But Arthur neither noticed nor enjoyed any of that. His mind was occupied with the young lady who would step out of that carriage in a moment, and whether he would find her improved and worthy of polite society, or whether this too had been one of her tricks. Experience told him not to hope, yet hope he did.

When the carriage came to a halt, a footman ran forward to open the door, while two others occupied themselves with the young lady's luggage. Arthur tilted his head slightly and observed the result of a year's worth of exorbitant fees. His first impression was that it had been worth it. She looked more charming than he had ever seen her and carried herself like a lady. But he was wary. "Alexandra, my dear," he greeted her. He stepped forward put his hands on her upper arms and kissed her cheek. "You look well."