Hester cringed. Athol had not the faintest idea what he was talking about. For him the Indian Mutiny and its horror were only mistakes on the pages of history, momentary darknesses in the grand procession of empire.

Athol stood up. "Won't interrupt you." He put his hands under the lapels of his jacket and rearranged it on his shoulders. "Must see if I can call on the vicar and have a word with him about Perdita. I am sure something can be arranged. Do her the world of good. Always does. Busy, that's the thing."

Gabriel looked quickly at Hester, his eyes searching.

Hester stood up. "I'll see you to the door, Mr. Sheldon."

"No need, my dear Miss Latterly," he said graciously. "Don't want to interrupt you. What are you reading? Shelley? Bit miserable, isn't it? I'll bring you something with a bit more fire to it, something more uplifting."

Hester controlled herself with an effort. After all, they did not have to read it. "Thank you. That is very kind." But she still walked to the door with him and accompanied him onto the landing and slowly down the stairs.

"Mr. Sheldon ..."

He stopped, hesitant for an instant, as if he too had considered speaking to her. "Yes, Miss Latterly?"

"Please reconsider asking Mrs. Sheldon to participate too fully in other activities just at the moment," she said gravely. "I—I don't think it will help."

"Always good to be busy, Miss Latterly," he said quickly, almost as if he had decided how to answer before she spoke. "Needs to get out. Mustn't brood, you know." His voice lifted, not as if his last comment were a question but rather as if he sought to encourage her somehow. "Can think about things too much. Get inward. Not healthy."

"But—"

He frowned. "Know you mean the best for them," he went on, interrupting. "Gabriel's your patient, and all that. Er ... speaking of which... most natural thing in the world, only thing for a woman, really ... faith, modesty .. . good works .. ." He colored faintly and ceased meeting her eyes. "I ... ah ... well ... do you think she will have children, Miss Latterly? Perdita... of course ..."

"I know of no reason why not, Mr. Sheldon," she replied. "Gabriel's injuries are not of that nature, and I fully expect his general health to return in time. However..."

"Good ... good. Hope you don't mind my asking? Indelicate, I know ..."

"I don't mind at all," she assured him.

He started to move down the stairs again, relieved.

She kept pace with him, then went a step ahead and stopped.

He stopped also, more or less obliged to, if he were not to push past her.

"Mr. Sheldon, I think it is important that Mrs. Sheldon learn something of what actually happened in the Mutiny, in time about the massacre at Cawnpore."