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land was not as snobbish as a superior servant.
    Frances wasn’t tired, so she started making some notes for some suffrage speeches, but it wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door.
    “Come in!”
    It was a housemaid.
    “I beg your pardon, my lady. I just wanted to make sure all your luggage arrived.”
    “Yes, thank you. But since you’re here . . .” She looked at the little table in the room. “I have some work to do and this table is very small. Is there an estate office or somewhere where I could spread out?”
    The maid expertly hid any surprise that a lady would have “work” to do requiring office space.
    “There is an estate office, my lady. Gentlemen from the accounting firm are reviewing the books there this evening, but there is plenty of room. I can take you there, if you like.”
    Frances gathered up her papers and followed the maid to a spare and practical room in a far corner of the mansion. She knew from her own family’s experience that late-night workwas common for accountants going over quarterly accounts. The two accountants, clearly the senior partner and a junior, greeted her briefly as the maid refilled the tea pot.
    Frances set herself up on a broad table and happily got to work.
    “Oh, and please tell my maid Mallow where I am, in case she comes looking for me,” she said.
    “Very good, my lady,” said the maid. The room lapsed into silence as the two accountants and the lady scribbled away with their pens.

    Meanwhile Mallow was acquainting herself with the house. She had been to great houses before, but never one this large. Miss Jenkins had told her that visiting servants could join the house staff in the servants’ hall. Cook had laid out some evening snacks, as the staff would be up late due to the party.
    “Thank you, Miss Jenkins,” said Mallow, putting just a little hauteur in her voice. “I will join the staff as soon as I have unpacked my own case.”
    It took a couple of false turns, but she eventually found her way down to the ground floor and headed toward the servants’ hall entrance. There was indeed a nice spread laid out, and Mallow was introduced to a few of the other servants, one of whom told her, with some surprise and curiosity, that Lady Frances was working in the estate office. She clearly hoped Mallow would enlighten her as to why a titled lady needed access to an office.
    “Her ladyship runs several important charitable groups and must work at all hours to meet her responsibilities,” said Mallow grandly. She stayed for a while, then decided to head back to her room until Lady Frances was ready for bed. Along her way, she passed a footman knocking on a door and frowning.
    “Excuse me,” said Mallow. “But one doesn’t knock on doors, except for bedroom doors.”
    “Oh, ah . . .” He seemed at a loss.
    “I’m lady’s maid to Lady Frances Ffolkes, who is a guest here. And you’re not supposed to knock on the doors of living areas.”
    “Oh, yes. Quite. But you see, the master, that is, Sir Calleford, is quite particular. This is his special study, and Mrs. Blake asked me to get him . . .” His voice trailed off. He was clearly unable to decide how to handle this. “Perhaps I should get the butler, Mr. Pennington?”
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” said Mallow. “Do you want to show your butler you can’t handle a simple task like this? Do you want to be a footman for the rest of your life?” She stepped up to the door and rapped sharply. “Sir Calleford? The mistress would like to speak with you.” Mallow put her ear to the door, but heard nothing. So she tried the doorknob and pushed open the door.
    “Oh dear God,” she said. The footman, right behind her, gasped and started to say something, but couldn’t speak. Mallow ventured a few steps into the room, but it was clear nothing could be done. She turned, half dragged the footman with her, and closed the door behind him.
    “You stay here. Allow no one in and say