It shared a wall with its neighbor to the south. Window boxes sprouted with the promise of flowers to come, and curtained windows welcomed visitors from all ranks and circumstances. Georgiana approached Mrs. Potter’s door slowly, impeded by the sharp gray winds of March. She pulled her pelisse around her, lowered her head, and held her bonnet firmly in place. Near her destination, two pairs of gentlemen’s boots, festooned in the first stare of fashion, came to a halt at her feet. Two faces, one hard and cruel, the other slack-jawed and dandified, looked at her with derision. Both wore the robes of Cambridge students. “I beg your pardon.” She tried to pass. “Well, you should beg our pardon.” The hard-faced one said. Neither moved. “Cambridge streets aren’t a place for a woman alone.” Insolent puppies! Georgiana regretted her decision to leave Eunice at home. She left her coach at the end of the street so she wouldn’t inconvenience the residents or her coachman. He could maneuver down such a narrow lane only with great difficulty.
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