before she managed to steer her father in another direction, so that Enid and James wouldn't see her, she watched as he took the glove off Enid's right hand and lean over to press his lips to her thin knuckles, then turn it over to the palm and kiss it again. And as he stood up, Enid reached up and flicked back his fair hair, which had flopped into his eyes.
And though she was now snuggled down into the bedclothes and blankets, a hot-water bottle at her feet, Maisie shivered and was frightened. Perhaps she should speak to Dr. Blanche about it, this strange feeling she had at times, as if the future had flashed a picture into her mind, like being at the picture house and seeing only a few seconds' worth of the show.
Just one week after Enid had taken Maisie into her confidence, James Compton departed on a ship bound for Canada. As a result Enid had become less than affable.
'I do wish you would turn out that bloomin' light so that I can get some shut-eye. I'm sick of it, I am. 'Alfway through the night and all I can hear is you turnin' those bloomin' pages over and over.'
Maisie looked up from her book, over to the lump that was Enid in the adjoining bed. She could not see Enid's face, for she was curled sideways with her back to Maisie, and the blankets over her head.
'I'm sorry, Enid, I didn't realize--'
Suddenly one arm came over the blankets as Enid pulled herself up into a sitting position, her face furiously red. 'Well, you
'But Enid, I pull my weight. No one else has to do my work for me. I can manage my jobs.'
'Oh yes? You can manage your jobs, can you? Well, next time you go over to that mirror to do 'yer 'air, take a look at the sacks of coal under yer eyes. Your idea of pullin' weight is just a bit different from mine. And what with all that other stuff you 'ave to think about, it's a wonder you can get up in the morning. Now then. I'm off t'sleep, and it'd be a good idea if you did the same thing.'
Maisie quickly marked her place in the book Maurice had given her earlier in the week, and extinguished the lamp at her bedside. Pulling the covers up to her shoulders and pressing her hands to her sore, watering eyes, she sought refuge from Enid's words. It seemed to Maisie that since Enid confided in her, she had become standoffish and unpleasant, as if her frustrated aspirations to become a lady had caused an unbearable resentment to grow. Maisie had begun to avoid her when Enid lost her temper at being asked to replenish coal in one of the upstairs rooms, and was reprimanded by Carter. But something must have sparked in Carter, for he called Maisie into the butler's pantry next to the kitchen.
'Maisie, I am worried about your ability to manage both your routine in the house and the schedule set by Dr. Blanche.'
'Oh, Mr. Carter, I am managing.'
'I want you to know that I will be watching, Maisie. I must obviously support Her Ladyship's wishes, but I must also bring it to her attention if changes should be made.'
'No, you don't have to do that. I'll manage, sir. I promise.'
'Right you are, Maisie. You may continue with your duties. But do make sure, doubly sure, that your work is complete at the end of the day.'
'Yes, Mr. Carter.'
It was with a heavy heart that Maisie visited Frankie Dobbs on the following Sunday. More than at any other time since she had started lessons with Dr. Blanche, Maisie couldn't wait to leave the house and immerse herself in the warmth of the stable and her father's love.
'There you are. Bit late today, young Maisie, aren't you?'
'Yes, Dad. I was late getting up, then had to stay to finish some jobs, and missed the bus. I had to wait for the next one.'
'Oh, so you couldn't get up in time on the one day you come to see your poor old dad?'
'That's not it, honestly, Dad,' responded Maisie defensively.
She took off her hat and coat, folded them and put them on top of her basket, which she left just outside the stable door. She walked over to Persephone and rubbed the soft spot behind her ears.
'I was just a bit late, that's all, Dad.'
'You doin' too much of that readin'?'
'No, Dad. No, I'm not.'
'So how about your week then, Love? What've you been doing?'
'Oh, we had a to-do in the kitchen this week. Mrs. Crawford was experimenting with pouring brandy over the cooked meat and then adding a flame to it. Some new French idea that Lady Compton had asked Carter about. The whole kitchen nearly caught alight. You should have seen it, Dad. It was hilarious!'
Frankie Dobbs stopped work and looked at Maisie.
'What is it, Dad?'The smile seemed to evaporate from her face.
''Ilarious, was it? I like that. 'ilarious. Can't use ordinary words anymore. Got to use big ones now, 'aven't you?'
'But Dad . . . I thought . . . .'
'That's the trouble with you. Too much of that thinking. I dunno . . . .'
Frankie turned his back on Maisie, the set of his shoulders revealing a seldom-seen anger.'I dunno. I thought this was all very well and all, you gettin' an education. Now I dunno. Next thing you know, you won't want to talk to the likes of me.'
'Now that's silly, Dad.'
'Silly, am I?' Frankie looked up again, his eyes blazing.
