Miss Eliza Carey came to London on a cold, wet afternoon in May. She brought two suitcases, and a small black cat. The neighbours peered out of their fine curtains and watched as she strode up to the door of her Aunt’s house on Fair St for the first time, and they could see nothing particularly remarkable about her, thus their curiosity waned and they dropped the curtains and turned to more interesting matters such as “What’s for dinner darling?” and “What do you think I should to Lady Winterton’s ball?”

But to Eliza was to change their opinions entirely.

She was fairly short, her hair was long, dark and straight, she was not ever so pretty but not exactly plain, in fact, she was quite ordinary to look at.

Her Aunt thought she was the most beautiful creature on earth. Of course, she would. She was, after all, Mrs Fey’s closest surviving blood relative.

“I can’t wait to see how all the young men look at you tomorrow when I take you to Lady Winterton’s ball.”

Well, the day came around and with it Lady Winterton’s ball, and Mrs Fey was disappointed to note that none of the men looked at Eliza with anything more than a passing -- very swiftly passing -- interest. But Eliza was not fazed by this. She danced all the dances, alternating between Sam (her Aunt’s stepson) and her uncle.

Her Aunt said, “Well of course I wouldn’t let you sit out a single dance unless you wanted to,” and Eliza did want to dance, every dance, but she didn’t care with whom.

By the end of the evening, Uncle George and Cousin Sam were both very tired.

The next day, Uncle George and Auntie Claudia and Cousin Sam all stayed in bed, but Eliza was up bright and early. Leaving nothing but a note, which explained only that she was going out and nothing about her whereabouts, she ran out of the house and began to take in the sights of the city.

The End

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