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→But what were the other choices open to her? (Unless she really wanted to, did she have to make any decision so soon, while only rising eighteen?) Was she in fact going to be asked for any decision? Perhaps Lord Edward brought many such young ladies here. Perhaps the week would end with the announcement of his betrothal to the Hon. Helena Fairborne, daughter of Lord Fairborne of Tewkesbury. (He was being very attentive to her at this moment.) Or to Miss Florence Hastings, a cousin of the Earl of Sussex. Or did one have to think of the house party in matrimonial terms at all? Why should young people not meet without so much absurd speculation?

→And a younger brother? Little perhaps in proportion, but he would scarcely be anything but wealthy. What did one wish for one's daughter? Certainly not, certainly never, position at the expense of happiness.

→The Marquess of Lansdowne was a better-looking young man than his brother, perhaps a little too precise, a little too long-necked for perfection; but obviously a very good man, intelligent, serious, and conscious of his position only in so far as it spelled out his responsibilities. Little more than a year ago he had been Lord Henry Petty, member of parliament for Camelford, with a distinguished but not necessarily successful parliamentary career ahead of him. Then, because of the death of his half-brother without issue, all this. A marquisate, a large estate and other possessions, three parliamentary seats, an income of twenty-six thousand pounds a year. It took one's breath away.

→The Colonel told her all about this over dinner while Demelza half listened and half tried to observe how Clowance was faring with their host. Clowance was wearing her second frock tonight, a fine scarlet brocade, which flattered her fair hair and skin. (They had brought only five dinner frocks for Clowance: Caroline had said this was enough, but Demelza was a little concerned about it.)

→Demelza with her bright dark eyes, her beautiful mouth and fine skin, was just his cup of tea. That she had a daughter here of nearly eighteen made it all the more interesting. As for Mrs Poldark's feelings, Mrs Poldark had known a fair number of Joneses in her life, and had tended to look on the name of Jones as rather an ordinary one; but apparently the Powys in front of it invested it with some mystic Celtic significance which she didn't, although herself a Celt, at first altogether understand. The Powys-Joneses, it seemed, were in some way descended from the Glendowers and Llewellyns of Welsh regality.

→Powys-Jones was about forty-five, short, trim and staccato. His hair was cropped close - 'get used to it; keeps the lice out, ma'am' - his evening garments shiny with use, his skin was yellow - 'thank the Indies for that, ma'am'; but he had an eye as sharp as a cockerel's and with much the same ends in view. (Not that anything scandalous could occur under this so highly respectable roof; but the idea was there.)

→Sunday was much the same, except that the gentlemen stayed around, and there was a church parade and other religious matters; but on Sunday evening Clowance was led in by Lord Lansdowne himself-a considerable honour - and her mother by an officer called Colonel Powys-Jones, who was on leave from Portugal and recovering from wounds sustained at Barrosa. Demelza, whose hearing was not of the worst, had heard Colonel Powys-Jones ask who she was the evening before, and to comment on her being a damned pretty woman, so it seemed likely that the arrangement was at his request.

→When they eventually went down Demelza was led in by Mr Magnus, the chaplain, and Clowance by Edward. The dinner went well and was followed by music and cards; but on this evening it was the gentlemen who were swallowing their yawns, and again almost everyone retired early.

→As for herself, as befitted a middle-aged matron, her gown was much more sober, being of Scandinavian blue satin, confined with a cord, and silver buttons all the way down the front.

→Well... Caroline had made them spend money - and when Mistress Trelask had been ignorant of the latest trends, or barren of ideas, Caroline had provided them. So Clowance was going down tonight in a Grecian round robe of fine Indian muslin. It had a demi-train, and robe and train were trimmed with a silver fringe. The sleeves Mistress Trelask had called Circassian, and the bosom was trimmed a la Chemise. Her hair was dressed rather flat but with curls on the forehead and the fullness of it confined behind with a row of twisted pearls. She wore white satin slippers with silver clasps. She looked, Demelza thought, so beautiful she could hardly be true.

→So far, she thought, their clothes had passed muster. At the races their attire had been a little more sombre than the others and today they had lacked ribbons and laces; but no matter. This evening would be far more important. Not again, if one believed Ross, that matching extravagance with extravagance was all. Good breeding was what counted - and looks and wit and elegance, in which, Ross was confident, they could not find themselves at all deficient. It was all very well for Ross. He was born with an absolute knowledge of where he stood in the world; not everyone had that advantage. Why couldn't he have come, presenting his daughter at such an aristocratic house party as this?

→Since it had never in her life taken Demelza more than half an hour to prepare for the extremest function, she spent the first hour writing to Ross and part of the second hour helping Enid to help Clowance.

→Dinner was the great event of the day and Saturday the first day of their stay when it was to take place with full formality. The ladies were expected to retire at four o'clock to prepare for it and then to come down at six in the utmost finery for polite conversation before 'the procession' from library to dining-room. Lady Isabel, in explaining this to Demelza, said that in the old days of not so very long ago the couples had moved simply from the small drawing-room to the dining-room; but this procedure had been abandoned because it wasn't far enough to walk - it didn't make enough of a 'procession'. She added in an aside that there was another advantage: if the men made a lot of noise when left on their own after dinner, the ladies would not be disturbed by it in the more distant library.

→In and out of their chaises the ladies stepped with their sweeping frocks and their gaudy parasols, like a flutter of butterflies, laughing and talking and exclaiming at the attractions and peculiarities and beauties of each scene in turn. It was not boring to the Poldarks, for the things to be seen were indeed pretty or odd or interesting; but it was a trifle embarrassing because the other ladies had so much quicker a wit for expressing, however artificially, their pleasure and fascination. Demelza and Clowance seemed always a little to lag behind in finding the words to say so. Once or twice Demelza put in a quick remark ahead of the others, but it was hard work and desperate.

→After luncheon they all visited the Hermit's Cave, which was dank and unimposing compared to the various sea-made hermits' caves which existed at the further end of Hendrawna Beach; and then a splendid Cascade falling in three thunderous tiers - man-made like the lake, but no less beautiful for that. There was also a Lansdowne mausoleum.

→Demelza had been nervous lest Clowance should be asked what sort of costume they wore. Not liking personally either to bathe naked or to wear the extraordinary jackets and petticoats illustrated in the fashion papers, she had devised her own costume, which was like a Greek chiton, sleeveless, short, and caught at the waist with a piece of cord. She felt that if the ladies here had seen such a garment they would have been greatly shocked.

→'Some people drink sea water for their health,' interposed Lady Lansdowne. 'It was all the craze a year or so ago.'

→'Little enough. It easily washes out later.'

→'Ugh! But does it not all become infamously clogged and sticky?

→There was an intake of breath.