‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. You shall tell me if I am wrong. One main avenue was for her to become a sort of salaried accessory wife or mother, to be a governess or an assistant schoolmistress, or a very high type of governess-nurse. But I suppose as I’ll have to wait until you can hear me to tell you again. It is in the lower cupboard. Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. His attraction for her was now written plainly on his freckled face, revealed by the many drinks he had imbibed. I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty, struggle. ’ He glanced at the portrait behind her.
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