Mr Ellis Wetherald was only just returned from his tour of Europe- a popular distraction for young men not yet given their inheritance, or, like him, never planning to receive anything as grand as what his elder brother expected. This was his first social engagement since returning hurriedly from Naples, having left without looking back in fear of being caught by the young lady's father.
He stood on the threshold of the Ballroom, waiting his turn to be greeted, a single rose carefully held between his fingers. The news of Lady Rebecca's sudden illness had been received even before he left his brother's club, and having heard this week so much new on the daughter, Patience, he had decided to come and she her for himself, even if he came under his brother's invitation and not his own.
As the elder gentleman and his wife in front of him were greeted and directed by the young hostess to the refreshments, Ellis cleared his throat, and bowed low to the girl in the elegant Italian style. "Un piacere incontrarlo, giovane signora." He said, holding the rose out to her, "A beautiful lady should not be without a beautiful flower."