Clarkson was very dignified. He sat at the table like a judge.
“Did you see the mongrel take the meat, Mrs. Dillon?”
“As good as,” replied Mrs. Dillon.
“So you did not see the act?”
“Well, I’d seen that animal out there … his eyes on what he could steal and when my back was turned he was in like a streak of lightning, and he got the meat from the table and ran off with it.”
‘ ‘It might have been one of the other dogs,” suggested Clarkson.
But Mrs. Dillon wouldn’t have it. “Oh, I know who it was. No kidding me. I see him there with my own eyes.”
I couldn’t resist saying: “But Mrs. Dillon, you did not see the dog take the meat.”
She turned on me angrily. “What are you doing here? have to be into everything. Anyone would think you was one of the family instead of …”
I looked at her steadily. Clarkson was embarrassed. He said: “This is outside the matter. If you did not actually see the dog take the meat then you cannot be sure that he did.”
‘ ‘I shall call in one of them woodmen. I shall get him to take a gun to that creature. I’ll not have him prowling round snatching the food I’ve cooked. It’s more than a body can stand and I won’t put up with it.”
The matter did not rest there. People were taking sides. The dog should be destroyed. He was a miserable little mongrel in any case. No, let the poor little fellow keep his dog. He didn’t have much of a life.
Poor Willie was distraught. He ran away taking his dog with him. It was winter and everyone was asking how he would look after himself. Mrs. Carter dreamed that he was lying in the forest somewhere … frozen to death.
May said she heard strange noises in the house; she thought she heard a dog howling. Jenny was walking through the woods and heard someone following her. She looked round and thought die saw Willie holding his dog. They were two ghostly figures and suddenly they disappeared.
Mrs. Dillon was disturbed. She was the one who had been persecuting him. She wasn’t at all sure about that leg of lamb. It might have been one of the other dogs. She wished she hadn’t asked one of the men to shoot the animal. She hadn’t meant it really. It was no use blaming her; she was only doing her duty to to house.
There was great relief when Willie came back. He was un-kempt and half starving. Mrs. Dillon made gruel for him and told him not to be such a silly happorth again … going off like that. Nobody was going to shoot his dog. It was just said in a manner of speaking.
They were a little kinder after that. So the incident had done some good and both Willie and the dog quickly recovered.
Life went on much as before. Julia was sometimes friendly but she could be suddenly imperious as though remembering that I was not quite one of the family. She would be impatient with Cassie who tired easily, but she was not averse to copying my work in the school room and asking me to supply certain answers to the work which Miss Everton set us. I suppose we got along tolerably well and I think that on the whole she was glad to have me there. I was more of a companion to her than Cassie could be. We practised jumping in the paddock and there was a certain friendly rivalry between us.
With Cassie it was different. She had to lie down in the afternoons. I used to take off her boots for her and sit with her and we talked. We played guessing games and sometimes I told her about Mrs. Halliburton’s troubles or the trials of Lady Isabel in East Lynne. She enjoyed these conversations and wept quietly for the tribulations of those unfortunate ladies.
The boys were at school most of the time. We all looked forward to their coming home for the holidays, but when they did come, it was never quite as we had imagined it would be and often I was glad when they went back—when Charles did any way. It was different with Philip.
Philip was rather like Cassie, with a kind and gentle nature. I expected they took after Lady Sallonger, who might have been like that before going through what she did with Cassie had made her rather peevish.
Charles was the elder brother—that meant about six years older than I. He was very lordly, and strutted about the house as though he owned it—which I supposed he would one day. He looked down on his brother and sisters, so it was not surprising that he had a contempt for me.
During the holidays the boys spent most of their time riding or fishing in the River Roding. They seemed to have so many exciting things to do from which we were excluded. I envied them their freedom. Philip, however, used to ride with us sometimes. He asked me questions about Grand’mere’s work. He was very interested in it. He used to go and see her sometimes. She liked him, and told me that he had real feeling for materials and knew a good silk when he saw one.
“His father will be pleased with him when he goes into the business,” she said.
“Charles does not seem interested at all,” I observed.
“It could come. At the moment he feels himself to be the big man … very important. That is here … where his brother and sisters are younger than he is. Perhaps he is different with others, eh? We shall see. But it is good that there is Philip who will be a blessing to his father.”
I noticed that Charles was quite interested in Grace the parlourmaid who was rather pretty. I saw them talking together on one occasion. Grace was giggling and was quite flushed; and he was being pleasant and friendly in a condescending way. So clearly he did not despise all females.
Once Charles did not come home. He was staying with a friend. Philip came alone and that was quite a pleasant holiday, for when Charles was not there Philip did not feel that he ought to hold us in contempt. He spent quite a lot of time with us.
I remember sitting by the lake with him and Julia and Cassie when he talked about the family and how wonderful it was that their ancestors had settled here all those years ago, driven from their homes because of religion.
“All we could do was weave our silk and so we arrived here without anything, for all we had we had left behind. We started up a silk industry in this country. Don’t you think that was a wonderful thing to have done?”
I said fervently that I did.
He smiled at me and went on: “In a few years we were producing materials that were as good as anything that came out of France. It was hard work, but we wanted to work. We were all very poor for a long time and then we began to prosper.”
“I’m glad we did,” said Julia. “I should have hated to be poor.”
“It’s really an exciting story, don’t you think so, Lenore?”
“Oh, I do. I do,” I assured him.
“To come to a new country with nothing but your faith and hope and determination to succeed.” His face shone with zeal. I thought: There is something very nice about Philip. I shall be sorry when he goes back to school.
“But there were endless troubles,” he went on. “When the country started importing French silks the Spitalfields workers were near to starvation. People wanted French silks although those we were making were just as good. They just thought French silk sounded better than Spitalfields silk. My father told me all about the trouble they had. The people were very fierce. There were riots. The workers roamed the streets. There was no work for their looms. If they saw a woman in a calico gown they tore it off her. ‘Silk! Silk!’ they shouted. ‘Everyone must wear Spitalfields silk!’ ”
“They must have been very fierce,” I said. “I should not have wanted my dress to be torn off me however good the cause.”
“They were fighting for their livelihoods. They had come over here leaving behind everything they possessed; they had set up their looms; they had produced beautiful materials; and just when they were beginning to prosper, the government allowed French silk to be brought into the country and people foolishly thought it was better and sentenced our workers to starvation.”