Текст книги "Lion Triumphant"
Автор книги: Philippa Carr
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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 24 страниц)
The Birth of a Boy
A FEW WEEKS AFTER Jake had left I made a disturbing discovery. I could not find Roberto. I had asked the boys where he was and they could not tell me. I was not unduly worried until a few days later he was missing again.
Knowing how close he was to Manuela, I decided to ask her if she knew where he was and I went up to the room she shared with the servants. She was not there, but one of the others told me they had seen her going up to the turret.
I mounted the steep spiral staircase to the rooms in the turret which were rarely used and as I approached I heard the sound of murmuring voices.
I opened a door and as soon as I did so I knew exactly what was happening. An altar had been set up; a candle burned at either end and kneeling at it were Manuela and Roberto.
They started up and Manuela’s arm went protectively about Roberto.
“Manuela,” I cried, “what are you doing?”
Her olive skin darkened and her eyes flashed defiantly.
“It is for me,” she said, “to look after Roberto.”
I was afraid. I knew that she was instructing Roberto in the Catholic Faith, her faith and that of his father. Had we stayed in Tenerife Roberto would naturally have followed that faith, but we were not in Tenerife and I knew what would happen if Jake ever discovered that any under his roof were as he would say “Papists.”
I said: “Manuela, I have never interfered with your beliefs. As far as you yourself are concerned you are at liberty to act as you please in this matter, though you must be careful not to attract attention to yourself. You know I have always believed in tolerance. I would more people did. I know your deep faith. But if you practice it in this house, Manuela, you must do so alone and in privacy. Leave my son out of it. He must follow the faith of this house in which, with the rest of the children, his tutor instructs him.”
“You ask me to look after him, to care for him, to save him. It is his soul that is important.”
Roberto looked startled and I said: “Yes, Roberto, when I thought I was dying I asked Manuela to take you to my mother who would care for you. But I am well again and there is no question of my dying. I am here to look after you now.”
I went to the altar and blew out the candles. Manuela stood aloof, her eyes downcast.
“I wish to follow my father’s faith,” said Roberto.
How much had Manuela told him of his father—that courteous gentleman who was even now so often in my thoughts? I saw the firm set of Roberto’s jaw when he mentioned his father. He would never accept Jake in that role. He hated Jake. There was a fierce animosity between them. And if Jake ever discovered that he was harboring a Catholic under his roof what would he do?
Oh, God, I thought, is there no escape from this intolerance?
One thing I knew; there must be no more of these secret sessions with Manuela. When Jake returned Roberto would have to go to church with the rest of us—a good Protestant subject of our Protestant Queen.
“Take these things away, Manuela,” I said. “And there must be an end of this. You are no longer in Spain. Captain Pennlyon would turn you out of the house if he discovered what you are doing.”
She did not answer, and taking Roberto by the hand, I said: “Come with me.” I turned to Manuela. “Leave no trace of this and never attempt to do the like again.”
I took Roberto to my bedroom and reasoned with him. I explained how dangerous it was to do what he had done.
“I am a Spaniard,” he answered proudly and how like his father he looked. “I am not of this country.”
I put my arms about him and held him close. I wanted to tell him that we must be tolerant with each other. We must follow the true Christianity, which was to love our fellowmen. I repeated what my mother had said to me.
“It is enough to be good and kind, to love your neighbor. That is what being a Christian means.”
He listened thoughtfully and I hoped I had made some impression on him.
Soon after that I miscarried. Jake had been five months at sea. I had been uneasy in my mind ever since I had discovered Manuela and Roberto together, but I don’t think this had anything to do with my miscarriage.
What was wrong with me? I asked myself. Why had I borne Felipe a son when I appeared to be unable to bear Jake one?
I tried to forget my disappointment and my anxieties over Roberto by devoting myself to the children. They seemed different with Jake away. Carlos and Jacko lost something of their swagger as Roberto lost his fear. The tutor I engaged for them, a Mr. Merrimet, appeared eager to do his duty, yet with a certain gaiety which matched his name, and I was delighted that he should be so impressed with Roberto.
Edward’s cousin Aubrey Ennis had come down to Trewynd to manage the estate and it was pleasant to have him and his wife, Alice, as neighbors. From them I learned that Honey had given birth to a son.
We visited Trewynd and the Ennises visited us.
There was a great deal of talk of course about political events and Scotland was the scene of the most sensational.
The Queen’s husband, Darnley, had died violently in a house at Kirk o’Field, murdered undoubtedly, some said, by the Queen’s lover, the Earl of Bothwell. It was hinted that the Queen of Scots herself had had a hand in the crime. News was constantly coming from Scotland. The Queen had married Bothwell, her husband’s murderer, and by doing so, was the general opinion, had made her guilt plain. So much was happening in the outside world, so little in our domain, that I felt shut in with my little family of children, for I looked upon Carlos and Jacko as mine too.
Roberto was growing taller, though he lacked the stature of the other two. He was becoming more and more like Felipe and he could chatter as fluently in Spanish as in English. This perturbed me, particularly as I knew he was spending a good deal of time in the company of Manuela. Had they heeded my warning?
I think I was guilty of shutting my eyes. I did not want Roberto to turn against me. I believed he thought often of his father and the life he might have had and I wondered whether Manuela had told him that Jake had killed his father.
Yes, I was guilty. I wanted to forget what was past. I did not want to look into the future. I tried to make Roberto more interested in outdoor sports. Carlos excelled at archery and I knew he rejoiced in this because he was looking forward to showing off his skill to Jake when he returned. With a six-foot bow and an arrow of a yard in length he could shoot almost two hundred yards, which was a great feat for a boy of his age. At Pennlyon we had a tennis court and both the boys played good games. They could toss the bar and throw the hammer and were fond of wrestling. We often had visitors from the other side of the Tamar to wrestle with them, for the Cornishmen were the best wrestlers in England.
“When the Captain comes home I shall show him this or that.” Those were words I often heard on both boys’ lips. “When the Captain comes home.” I would notice too the shadow which passed over Roberto’s face at the thought of Jake’s return.
Aubrey and Alice Ennis had no children. They told me that in due course Edwina would come to Trewynd. The Grange would be hers when she was eighteen years, as she was Edward’s only daughter.
I said: “I doubt if she would wish to come down to Devon after the exciting life she must lead with her mother and stepfather near the Court.”
“We’ll have to wait and see,” was the answer to that; and meanwhile the months slipped by.
There was more news from Scotland. Mary and Bothwell had attempted to stand against the nobles of Scotland at Carberry Hill and the result was that Bothwell had fled and Mary was taken prisoner. She was incarcerated in Lochleven, where, we heard, she was forced to abdicate; her son, James, was declared King James VI of Scotland and James Stuart, Earl of Moray, Regent of that unhappy land.
“This is good for England,” said Aubrey Ennis at our dinner table. “There’s little to fear from the fair devil of Scotland now.”
One afternoon I was in the schoolroom with the boys, Mr. Merrimet and Romilly Girling when Carlos, who happened to pass the window, gave a sudden shout of excitement.
“It’s the Lion,” he cried.
We were all at the window. And there far out to sea was a ship.
“We could be mistaken,” I said.
“No,” cried Carlos. “That’s the Lion.” He and Jacko jumped about madly, embracing each other. I had seen the look of fear in Roberto’s eyes and it worried me. I took his hand to reassure him.
There was no doubt that it was the Rampant Lion. She was not limping this time. She lay proudly on the calm waters waiting for the wind.
I went into the house and gave orders in the kitchen. There should be beef and lamb, capons and partridges. They must bestir themselves with the pastry. They must prepare a banquet such as they had not produced for two whole years. The master was home.
All afternoon the ship lay there in sight of land and it was dusk when she sailed into the harbor.
We were on the shore waiting.
I watched Jake being rowed ashore. Bigger than I remembered, his face darkened by sun, his eyes more vividly blue than ever.
He leaped out of the boat and seized me. I was laughing. Yes, truly glad that he was safely back. Carlos and Jacko were jumping madly around us.
“The Captain’s home,” sang out Carlos.
He turned to them and shook them by the shoulders.
“Lord, how they’ve grown!”
He was looking around. There should have been one other to greet him. The child who had been on the way when he left.
I said nothing. I did not wish to spoil these first minutes.
“So you’re glad to see me, eh? So you’ve missed me?”
“We had begun to feel you had been away a long time. You’ve had a good voyage, doubtless.”
“A profitable one. You shall hear. But all in good time. Let me look at you, Cat. I’ve thought of you … day and night I’ve thought of you.”
I was gratified, yet I felt the old need to do battle. It was like coming alive again. There was no doubt that I had missed him.
Carlos was leaping up. “Captain, a good voyage was it? How many Spaniards did you kill?”
Oh, Carlos, I thought, have you forgotten that you are half Spaniard!
“Too many to count, boy.”
“Enough of killing,” I said. “The Captain has come home. He wants to talk of home.”
He gripped my arm. “Indeed I do,” he said. “I want to be with my wife. I want to think of home.”
He looked at the house and I could see that he was moved. So must it be after an absence of two years.
“I believe,” I said, “that one of the most exciting things about going to sea is coming home.”
“Home,” he said. “Yes—home.” And I knew he meant me.
Being Jake, the first thing he needed was the physical satisfaction of our union. He came straight up to our bedroom holding me firmly as though he feared I would try to escape him.
“Cat,” he said. “Still the same. I’ve wanted you so much I’ve almost turned the Lion around and come back to you.”
I wondered with how many women he had soothed his needs for one, but I did not ask.
The house was filled with the smell of cooking food—that delicious odor of hot crusty bread, the savory one of pasties and cooking meats.
I knew that he would be hungry for such food after the kind of fare he would have had so long at sea.
He said: “And the boy? I want to see the boy.”
He stared at me, for he had seen the sorrow in my face.
“There was no boy,” I told him. “I miscarried.”
“My God, not again.”
I was silent.
His disappointment was bitter. He turned on me: “How is it that you could get a boy from that poxy Spaniard and not from me?”
Still I did not speak. He shook me. “What happened? You did not take care. You were stupid … careless. …”
“I was neither. It just happened. There was no reason.”
He bit his lips, his heavy brows drawn together.
“Am I to have no son?”
I retorted: “No doubt you have many scattered about the world. You have two under this roof.”
Then he looked at me and his anger faded. “Cat, how I’ve longed for you!”
I was sorry for him suddenly and I said with more tenderness than I had shown him before: “We’ll have sons. Of course we’ll have sons.”
Then he was gay again. Remembering that he was home after two years away.
In the great dining hall the tables were loaded with food. We were seated as at a banquet. At the table on the dais I sat beside Jake. The children were there too—Roberto on my left, Carlos on Jake’s right, and Jacko beside him. On the other side of Roberto sat Romilly. Jake had said she should be one of the family. In two years she had grown a good deal; she was tall, still willowy, and she was attractive because of her wonderful green eyes.
Jake had greeted her warmly and asked how she fared. She had bobbed a curtsy and raised respectful and admiring eyes to his face. As Captain Girling’s daughter no doubt she would have heard stirring stories of Captain Jake Pennlyon.
The servants filled the center table and there was much drinking and revelry.
It had been difficult to keep Carlos and Jacko interested in their lessons since the Captain had returned, Mr. Merrimet complained. Romilly used to go and help him in the schoolroom and as she was growing into an attractive young girl with a quiet demeanor I did wonder whether they might make a match of it. She must be nearly fifteen years of age and it would sooner or later be necessary to find a husband for her.
Roberto studied with a fervor greater than before. I think he was very anxious to do well at what he was good at; and I knew that he lived in terror of Jake.
When the Ennises came there was always a good deal of talk about affairs of state and these all seemed to center around the Queen of Scots.
She was at this time in England, having escaped from Lochleven, where she had been incarcerated, and had lost the battle of Langside. She had, foolishly it was said, come over the border to escape the Scottish lairds and so placed herself in the hands of Elizabeth.
“Our Sovereign Lady’s prisoner,” Jake said with satisfaction. “That will take care of her.”
But it seemed she was as dangerous in England as she had been in Scotland. A casket had been found in which were letters said to have been written by her to Bothwell. Some were of the opinion that they were forgeries; if they were not and had indeed been written by her, then she was a guilty woman, adulteress and murderess.
There were arguments at our table about the authenticity of these casket letters. I grew rather apprehensive. Aubrey Ennis was cautious, but Alice declared hotly that they were forgeries. Jake, who saw all Papists as criminals of the worst degree, was certain that Mary had written the letters, that she had committed adultery with Bothwell while married to Darnley and that she had had a hand in the murder.
“She’s an enemy of our Queen and country,” he declared. “The sooner her head parts company with her body, the better.”
I used to try to change the subject. I had heard that a strange gamble had been introduced into the country. It was called a lottery.
“People get a number,” explained Ennis. “Or so I’ve heard. If that is one of the lucky numbers there’s a prize.”
“They say,” I went on, “that the sale of tickets went on day and night from January to May.”
“A great number of people must take part if the prizes are to be worthwhile.”
“A lottery,” I said. “How I should have loved to see them at the door of St. Paul’s.”
But we could not talk long of the lottery, novel though it might be, and the conversation drifted back to that lady who seemed to have an ability to attract trouble and supporters and to cause friction in families.
The Earls of Northumberland and Westmorland had raised a rebellion in the North, but this had come to nothing. Heads had fallen in the affair. More would doubtless follow in the years to come, for trouble there would always be while Queen Mary lived.
After such conversation Jake would often express his suspicion that our neighbors were secret Papists and I was always afraid there would be trouble.
I had become pregnant again.
“If you don’t give me a son this time,” said Jake, “I’ll clap you in irons and make you walk the plank.”
I laughed. I had a feeling that this time I could not fail.
Jake was going on a brief voyage to Southampton in connection with his next venture and proposed to take the boys. He said nothing to me but went into the schoolroom where they were at their lessons and told them of the proposition. Carlos and Jacko were wild with joy. I did not have to imagine Roberto’s reaction.
I tackled Jake when he came to our bedroom.
I said: “What is this voyage I hear about?”
“A short one. I want to give the boys a taste of the sea.”
“Take Carlos and Jacko by all means.”
“I shall take your brat as well.”
“You will do no such thing.”
“You are foolish over that boy. Do you want to turn him into a good-for-nothing?”
“He is good for a great deal. He is a scholar who can put your bastards to shame in the schoolroom.”
“Schoolroom! Who cares for schoolrooms! That boy needs hardening.”
“You will leave me to bring up my son as I wish.”
“He lives under my roof. He will therefore not disgrace me with his whining ways.”
He laughed at me.
Carlos and Jacko could not attend to their lessons. They were constantly shrieking about the house. One would hear their shrill voices: “Aye, aye, Captain. When do we put to sea? We await the tide, Captain.”
Jake laughed at them, cuffed them, pulled their hair and jeered at them; and they adored him.
I said: “They will be like you when they grow up.”
The day came when they were to sail. Nothing more had been said about Roberto’s going. I had promised him he should not go.
They were to sail at night, the winds being favorable. They would not be away very long. Jake would do his business in Southampton and then return. It would be a lesson to the boys, he said, for he was certain that Carlos and Jacko were going to sea.
That afternoon Carlos and Jacko said good-bye to me and were rowed out to the ship. Jennet, Romilly and I stood on the shore waving to them.
I went back to the house, satisfied that I had saved Roberto from an ordeal which he would have found intolerable.
The Rampant Lion sailed that night. I saw her go from my bedroom and I smiled to picture the boys’ excitement and Jake’s pride in them.
I might have guessed Jake would outwit me. I discovered from Jennet that Jake had taken Roberto on board earlier so that he could make the trip with them.
Roberto came back none the worse for his adventure and I quarreled with Jake.
He laughed at me.
“Why, it will do the boy good. Not that he’ll ever make a sailor. Not like Carlos and Jacko. By God, they’re boys a man can be proud of.”
The summer was hot and the burden I carried exhausting. I was now very much aware of it. A lively child, more so than Roberto had been. What one would expect of Jake’s boy.
Jake went away again for a short voyage—this time to London, where the Queen had wished to see him. He came back in high spirits.
“What a woman!” he cried. “She talked severely to me about sea rovers like myself. We were causing trouble with the King of Spain, she said. We were robbing them, and robbery was something she could not tolerate. And all the time she talked to me there was a twinkle in her eye.”
“She has had her share of the treasure you have brought home,” I said.
“So she has and so she remembers. She wanted a private interview with me and there she laughed with me and she made it clear that she liked what I was doing, liked it very much. She is the Queen and at this time it is amusing and necessary to deceive the Spaniards. ‘Not always so, my good Captain,’ she said. ‘There’ll come a day…’ And in the meantime she commands me to go on … just as I have been doing and the more Spaniards I blow into the sea and the more treasure I bring back to England, the better she likes it. Why, Cat, she loves her roving adventures and she made me feel Captain Jake Pennlyon was by no means the least of them.”
He could not stop talking about the Queen.
“When she was born,” I said, “there was a great to-do because she was not a boy. They say Queen Anne Boleyn would never have lost her head if Elizabeth had been a boy. Yet could there have been a better Sovereign?”
Jake conceded that there was no Sovereign nor ever would anywhere in the world to match up to Our Lady Elizabeth.
My lying in chamber was prepared and I was ready and waiting. It was not a difficult labor. I awoke in the morning to find the child on the point of being born. The midwife was in the house. She had been there for two weeks, so eager were we that nothing should go wrong.
In the early afternoon of an August day in the year 1570 my child was born.
I lay there exhausted, then suddenly I was filled with joy for I heard the cry—the lusty cry—of a child.
I closed my eyes. I had succeeded. My child was alive and well.
The midwife came in and Jake was with her. I smiled at him, but immediately I saw the blank disappointment that was almost rage in his face.
“The child … ?” I began.
“A girl,” he shouted. “Just a girl.”
Then he went out.
I said to the midwife: “Bring my child to me,” and she was brought and laid in my arms. I loved her small, red, crumpled face. From the moment I held her in my arms I wanted her just as she was.
Jake’s brooding anger continued. He had been so certain that the child would be a boy. I knew he had pictured himself bringing up a child that would be like himself and taking him to sea with him. He had wanted that boy as he had rarely wanted anything.
He did not come near me for two days. I did not care. I had my little girl.
“She’s a bonny child,” said the midwife. “I’ll swear she knows you.”
I wondered about a name for my little girl. If it had been a son it would have been Jake, of course. She reminded me in those early days of a little bird nestling against me, I called her my little Linnet. I decided this should be her name.
A month or so after the birth of Linnet, Jake was ready to sail away. For all I knew he might be away for two years. Before he left I decided to speak to him about Romilly. The girl was growing up and was now marriageable. I thought that she and Mr. Merrimet might have a fancy for each other. Romilly was often in the schoolroom and helped him there and they were suited to each other. Would there be any objection to my making a match for them?
Jake shrugged his shoulders. “If they wish it let them,” he said.
“They could stay on here. Mr. Merrimet can take on the education of Linnet and other children we will have.”
“It’s a capital plan,” said Jake. “Get them wed. I feel a duty toward Girling and I’d like his daughter to remain one of the family. The Court’s big enough to hold them.”
On a glorious October day, as a fresh wind was billowing the sails of the Lion and the other two ships which accompanied her, we stood on the Hoe until the ships dropped below the horizon.
Almost immediately I set about arranging the match for Romilly. I spoke first to her. She was a demure girl and had grown quite pretty. Her green eyes had taken on a fresh sparkle.
I said to her: “Romilly, it is time you thought of marriage. Have you done so?”
“I … I have thought of it,” she admitted.
I smiled. “Well, you are no longer a child. I have seen you in the schoolroom and I believe you and Mr. Merrimet are quite good friends.”
She blushed. “Yes, we are good friends.”
“Perhaps you might feel he would make a good husband. I see no reason why he should not.”
She was silent.
“Of course,” I went on, “if you do not wish this, then we will drop the matter.”
“Has the Captain said aught of this?” she asked.
“As a matter of fact, he has. I discussed it with him before he left. Like myself, he thinks it is time you married and he thinks, too, that Mr. Merrimet would be a suitable husband. If you married him you might stay here in the house and Mr. Merrimet could continue to teach. The boys will need him for some time and then Linnet will be ready. The Captain feels a duty to your father and is happy at the thought of your remaining under our roof.”
She was still silent and I went on: “Perhaps I have been too precipitate.”
“If I could have time to consider…”
“But of course. There is no hurry. It is entirely a matter for you to decide. But when you have made up your mind tell me and then we can sound Mr. Merrimet.”
This seemed to meet with her approval and we shelved the matter.
It must have been about a month later when I made a discovery which rendered the plan impossible.
Jennet, whose duty it was to bring water to my bedroom, did not appear and I went to the servants’ room. There was only one maid there. All the others were about their duties.
“Where is Jennet?” I said.
The girl looked scared.
“I don’t know, Mistress.”
“Did she get up at her usual time?”
The girl looked embarrassed. It took me some time to get the truth from her, which was that Jennet rarely slept in the servants’ room. She was almost always with a lover. This was no surprise to me. I knew that one of the grooms was her lover, and she would always have her lovers.
I guessed she was in one of the rooms over the stables and had no intention of going there. I would severely reprimand her when I saw her. Perhaps I would send her to my mother, but she would want to take Jacko with her and Jake would never allow that. He was fond of Jacko. So I could not separate a mother from her son.
Some mischievous quirk of fate led me to the tutor’s room. I had for some time wanted to have a word with him about Roberto. I knocked lightly on his door. There was no answer, so I went in. The sun was shining full on the crumpled pallet, and fast asleep lay Jennet and Mr. Merrimet, naked and clasped in each other’s arms.
I said sharply: “Mr. Merrimet! Jennet!”
He opened his eyes first and then I heard Jennet gasp.
I said quickly: “I will speak to you later,” and shut the door.
The result was that I dismissed Mr. Merrimet immediately. I thought that a man who could indulge so blatantly in sexual adventure with one of the maids was no fit tutor for the boys. I had suspected him of a certain amount of levity but not to an unseemly extent; and I had been of the opinion that marriage would have a sobering effect on him. How mistaken I had been! Now I imagined his initiating the boys into certain practices at a too early age and I did not hesitate.
He left the next day. I sent for Jennet, who was her usual coy self—like a girl caught in her first indiscretion.
She had the usual reply that “’twere all natural-like and Mr. Merrimet being such a gentleman…”
I told her she was a slut; she was a disgrace; and I was thinking of sending her to my mother, and should do so did I not have such concern for my mother and her household. She must mend her ways or she would find herself on the roads yet begging her bread.
“There’s Jacko,” she told me slyly.
“He shall go with you.”
“Oh, Mistress, the Captain be mortal fond of Jacko. You’d have to answer to him for that.”
“I answer to no one,” I cried. “I manage my own household.”
She was silent, remembering that the Captain was away and that I was not to be lightly flouted. She wept and said that there was some wickedness in her that would not let her deny comely gentlemen and she thought there had been little harm done and she would serve me true and faithful forevermore.
I was fond of Jennet, so I contented myself with getting rid of Mr. Merrimet and engaging a new tutor for the boys. This was Robert Elmore, a gentleman of Plymouth who was a scholar fallen on evil times and glad to have a home. He was middle-aged and of great seriousness. I felt I had made a good change.
Linnet flourished. She was a contented baby with great wondering eyes and a ready chuckle.
Everyone in the household adored her, particularly Romilly, who was a great help with the children.
I was disturbed at the behavior of Mr. Merrimet and I wondered what effect this would have on the girl who had such a short time ago implied that she would be ready to marry him. There was a change in her, I fancied. It must have been a blow to discover that the man who may well have made advances to her had at the same time been spending his nights with such a practiced slut as Jennet.
At first she did not appear to be greatly upset, and then suddenly I knew that something was wrong and immediately suspected that her relationship with Merrimet had not been an innocent one; indeed, was it possible that it could have been with such a man?
It was some three months after the departure of the tutor when I tackled her with this. She burst into tears and told me that she was pregnant.
I cried: “What a rogue that man is! All very well for him to take Jennet to his bed. She is as practiced as a woman can be in such matters and I doubt not has had a hundred before him. But an innocent young girl … under the protection of myself and the Captain! He is a rogue and a villain.”
She went on sobbing.
I said: “You should have told me before.”
“I daren’t,” she said. “What can I do now?”
“You can do nothing. I can’t find a husband for you now. You will just bear your shame and the child.” I was sorry for her, so I put my arm about her. “You have been a foolish girl, Romilly. You have listened to promises no doubt, and now this has happened to you.”
She nodded.
“But it is not the first time it has happened to a girl. You are fortunate, for the Captain admired your father and wished to repay him for his services. You shall have your child here and it will be part of our household. Now don’t fret. It’s bad for the child. You did wrong and must needs bear the consequences. It is the fate of women. The man plants his seed blithely and departs. It is happening all over England … all over the world.”
I was sorry for the girl. She was so young; and so very grateful to me for the attitude I had taken. But she was an adaptable creature and in a very short time she had forgotten her unhappiness. She settled down to making garments for her baby and helping with mending the boys’ clothes, for she was good with her needle.