you do. We must set an example.”
“We must also hope that people enjoy themselves,” Martha offered. “After all, they will be little likely to part with their money if they feel miserable.”
Emily glanced at the vicar.
“We are not a public amusement,” he said icily.
Emily could think of nothing less likely to amuse the public than the vicar’s frozen face. “Surely we can be happy,” she said deliberately, “without being remotely like a public amusement?” As if Charlotte were at her elbow, she went on. “In fact, the very knowledge that we are in the service of the Lord will be a source of joy to us.”
If it ever occurred to the vicar’s mind that she was being sarcastic, there was no sign of it in his face. But she caught Martha’s eye, and wondered if perhaps Martha would like to have said the same herself?
“I’m afraid you are not wise in the ways of the world,” the vicar said, looking down at her, “as indeed it becomes a woman not to be. However, I must advise you that people are not as happy in the Lord’s work as they should be, else the world would be a far better place, instead of the vale of sin and frailty it is. Alas, how weak is the flesh, even though the spirit would have it otherwise!”
There was no answer to that either. Emily turned her attention to the practical details; these at least she was extremely good at, although they interested her not at all. But it was only fair she did not leave them all to Sarah.
On the way home they were both quiet for a long time, till they were within half a mile of their own house. Sarah pulled her wrap a little closer round her.
“It is far cooler than I expected,” she said with a little shiver. “It looked as if it would be warm.”
“You’re tired,” Emily sought the obvious explanation. “You have been working very hard on this-affair.” She decided to omit the adjective that came to her tongue.
“I can’t leave poor Mrs. Prebble to do everything. You have no idea how hard that woman works.” Sarah walked a little more quickly.
She was quite correct. Emily had very little idea of what Martha Prebble might do with her time. It had never interested her to think of it.
“Does she? At what?”
“At raising money for the church, at visiting the sick and the poor, at running the orphanage. Who do you suppose arranged the outing for them last month? Who do you think laid out old Mrs. Janner? She had no family and she was as poor as a mouse.”
Emily was surprised.
“Martha Prebble did?”
“Yes. Sometimes others help, but only when they feel like it, when it suits them, or when they think someone else is watching who will praise them for it.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Sarah pulled her shawl closer round her again.
“I think that’s why Mama sometimes puts up with her rather funny ways, and with the vicar. I must admit myself, they are a little trying at times; but one must bear in mind the work they do.”
Emily stared ahead of her. Such thoughts obliged her admiration, in spite of her profound dislike of the vicar and, by association, of Martha also. People were full of the most curious traits.
Caroline also was thinking of the vicar and Martha Prebble, but less kindly. She had been aware of Martha’s work, especially with orphans, long enough for the surprise to have faded. She also understood some of the loneliness of a woman who has had no children and who is driven by both family and circumstances to labour for those who are not her own. It must frequently be an anonymous, thankless task.
But a little of their company, especially the vicar’s, was sufficient for a long time.
“A very worthy woman,” Grandmama observed. “A fine example to others of the parish. A pity there are so few who follow her. You must be pleased with Sarah. She’s turning out very well.”
Caroline thought it made her sound like a cake or a pudding, but she knew Grandmama did not appreciate levity at her expense.
“Yes,” Caroline agreed, still looking at her sewing. There seemed to be far more linen to mend than she had remembered. But it was a long time since they had been short of a maid, in fact since before Sarah was married.
“Pity you can’t do something about Charlotte,” Grandmama went on. “I really don’t know how you’re ever going to get that girl married. She doesn’t appear even to be trying!”
Caroline rethreaded her needle. She knew why Charlotte did not try, but it was none of Grandmama’s business.
“She certainly is different in her tastes from Emily,” she said noncommittally. “And in her tactics. But then there is no reason why they should be the same.”
“You ought to speak to her,” Grandmama insisted. “Point out the practicalities to her. What is going to happen to her if no one marries her? Have you considered that?”
“Yes, Grandmama, but frightening her will do no good, and even if she does not marry, she will survive. Better single than married to someone disreputable, or loose-living, or who could not provide for her satisfactorily.”
“My dear Caroline,” Grandmama said exasperatedly, “it is your duty as her mother to see that she does not! And it is also your duty to control this house in an organized fashion. When are you going to get another maid?”
“I have already made enquiries and Mrs. Dunphy has seen two, but they were not satisfactory.”
“What was the matter with them?”
“One was too young, no experience; the other had a reputation that was undesirable.”
“Perhaps if you’d checked Lily a little more closely she wouldn’t now be murdered! This sort of thing doesn’t happen in a well-ordered house.”
“It didn’t happen in the house!” Caroline was stung to sharpness at last. “It happened in Cater Street. And you are quite irresponsible to suggest, even by implication, that Lily brought it upon herself in any way, or that she was immoral. And I won’t have it said in my house.”
“Well, really!” Grandmama stood up, her hands tight, her face flushed. “No wonder Charlotte doesn’t know how to keep a civil tongue in her head, and Emily’s chasing after that ne’er-do-well just because he has a title. She’ll do nothing but make a fool of herself, and you’ll be to blame. I told Edward when he married you that he was making a mistake, but of course he was enamoured of you and didn’t listen. Now Charlotte and Emily will have to pay for it. Well, don’t say afterwards that I didn’t warn you!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Grandmama. Do you want dinner upstairs or will you be sufficiently recovered in time to come down for it?”
“I am not ill, Caroline. I am merely very disappointed, though not surprised.”
“One can recover from disappointment as well as illness,” Caroline said drily.
“You are immodest, Caroline, and unfeminine. No wonder Charlotte is a shrill. If you’d been my daughter, I would have seen to it that you grew up to be a lady.” And without giving Caroline a chance to reply to that, she went out and closed the door behind her with a sharp clack.
Caroline sighed. There was more than enough to do, enough trouble, without Grandmama aping a prima donna. Still, she ought to be used to it by now, only she resented the criticism of Charlotte. The slander against Lily was painful in a different and deeper way.
What kind of person would kill a harmless, penniless girl like Lily Mitchell? Only a madman. A madman straying from the criminal world, or a madman who looked like any of the rest of them, except at night, when he saw a young woman alone in the streets? Could it even be someone she herself had seen?
Her thoughts were interrupted by Edward coming in.
“Good evening, my dear.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Have you had a pleasant day?” He looked at the linen and frowned. “Still no replacement for Lily? I thought you were seeing one or two today.”
“I did. Nothing suitable.”
“Where are the girls? And Mama?” He sat down, stretching comfortably.
“Do you wish some refreshment before dinner?”
“No, thank you. I stopped at my club.”
