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possibly can, that there’s no future in his calling at the house to see me, or in sending me letters.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Father’d be very curious, seeing me get a letter from Merinville.’
    ‘And imagine what he’d say if he found out who it was from.’
    Lydia frowned. ‘He mustn’t know. I’ll stop this before it has a chance to go any further.’
    ‘I suppose you’re right,’ Ryllis said. ‘Mr Canbrook sounds quite a nice old man, though. And giving you that lace . . .’ She gestured to Lydia’s basket. ‘Let’s have a look at it.’
    Lydia picked up the little package, partly unwrapped it and opened it up. Exposing the lace, she said, ‘Oh, it’s beautiful.’
    ‘It certainly is,’ Ryllis said.
    ‘He told me it’s handmade.’
    ‘I’m sure it is. It’s lovely.’
    Lydia sighed. ‘What d’you think I should do about it?’
    ‘Well, you could put it on a nightdress. It would look lovely down the front, or on the yoke. There’s plenty there.’
    ‘No,’ Lydia said, ‘I don’t mean that. What I mean is, I don’t know whether I should keep it – or send it back.’
    Ryllis’s eyes widened. ‘Of course you should keep it. He’s given it to you, hasn’t he?’
    ‘I know that, but if I’m going to send him a letter tellinghim not to bother writing or calling at the house, it seems hardly the thing to do to accept presents from him.’
    ‘But it’s just a piece of lace, for goodness sake. It’s not a carriage and pair. You can’t seriously think of sending it back.’
    They said no more at this point on the matter, for the coach was seen approaching. Five minutes later they were climbing on board.
    Mr Halley was not at home when they arrived – he was out arranging one of his prayer meetings – but Mrs Halley was there, waiting to welcome her daughter. Even as Ryllis threw her arms about her mother her attention was drawn to the fading bruises on her face. ‘Mother, what happened to your face?’ she asked.
    Mrs Halley drew back a little and dismissed the question with a waved hand. ‘Oh, nothing, my dear. Just a little accident – which will teach me to be a bit more careful in future.’
    Nothing more was said on the subject, and the three set about making tea. As they drank it a while later, Ryllis sat at the kitchen table, opened up the newspaper she had brought from Redbury and studied the classified advertisements. There were three situations offered that she thought might be suitable, and these she circled with heavy strokes of a pencil. Lydia sat at the table watching her, as did Mrs Halley while she prepared vegetables.
    ‘Are you going to write off for those positions?’ Lydia asked.
    Ryllis shrugged. ‘Well, there’s no harm in doing so, and if I get a new job it can’t be worse than the one I’ve got now.’
    ‘Oh, Ryllis,’ Mrs Halley said, ‘do you hate it so much where you are?’
    ‘Yes, I do,’ Ryllis replied. ‘I can’t wait to get away, to move on to some other place.’
    ‘But if you leave you’ll lose the money for the year so far,’ Mrs Halley said.
    ‘That’s something I’d have to put up with,’ Ryllis replied.
    ‘Easier said than done. Your father won’t be pleased. After all, he got you the post in the first place.’
    ‘I know that,’ Ryllis said, ‘but I didn’t ask him to. He took it upon himself. And why? Because he wasn’t satisfied with the way I was going about it, that’s why. He went on as if I didn’t want to work, as if I didn’t want to get a position.’ She turned to her mother. ‘Oh, I know he’ll be angry if I tell him I intend to leave, but – oh, it isn’t a pleasant life working for the Lucases, not by any means.’
    Mrs Halley said, ‘I know the work must be hard, but it usually is in service.’
    ‘I’m not complaining about the hard work,’ Ryllis said, ‘though it’s very hard indeed. It’s other things. For one thing I don’t have anywhere properly to sleep. I’ve told you that.