Now she was making the return journey in style in the company of two wealthy young men. With her pretty face and buoyant curls, a twelve-year-old girl on the verge of puberty, she must have attracted some appreciative glances at the stopovers along the way. One look at the two men who were keeping her under intense scrutiny no doubt prompted a few knowing nods.After the simple formality of institutional life in rural Shropshire, the chaotic clamor of London must have struck Ann Kingston with a resounding shock. With a population of nearly 700,000 the capital boasted more inhabitants than any other city in the world. Although most of its better-off residents would have fled the capital for their summer retreats, the streets were still congested with carriages and farm carts, and the pavements were thronged with pedestrians and vendors. Accustomed to the melodious sounds of the countryside, Ann would have been deafened by the thunder of coach wheels, the yells of men bearing sedan chairs and the bellows of livestock being driven to market.
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