Chapter twoAfterwards Atalanta could never remember what she had said or if she had said anything at all.
She could only recall her mother’s excited voice and the moment when she realised that William was looking at her untidy hair, his eyes glancing critically at her tight cotton dress with its damp hem.
He had always made her feel awkward and uncomfortable and now she regretted that she had not gone upstairs first to change her dress before entering the drawing room. It was, however, only a momentary feeling of embarrassment.
Her father put his arm round her and said,
“What your mother and I want, Atalanta, is your happiness.”
Then turning to William he went on,
“You will find Atalanta a very intelligent and unusual girl. She knows Greek almost as well as I do and Latin comes easil
