Now, with little Sarah walking alongside her, she put both Mary and Thomas in the cart and set out for home. The cart was heavy with both children in it and by the time they arrived home she was tired; she lifted a sleepy Thomas into her arms and then patted Mary’s cheek to rouse her. ‘Come on, m’darling, let’s have you inside and mek you a drink.’

But Mary was lethargic and grizzly and couldn’t summon the energy to climb out of the box. ‘Open ’door for me, Sarah,’ Ellen asked. ‘Can you lift ’latch?’

But Sarah wasn’t tall enough to reach the latch, so with Thomas in her arms Ellen hurried up the stony path, opened the door and placed the baby in a chair, where he immediately awoke and began to wail. Ellen ran back to Mary, who was slumped in the cart as limp as a rag. She picked her up and put her to her shoulder. The child was burning hot and Ellen rushed inside, unfastening the buttons on her daughter’s coat and removing her bonnet as she went. Mary’s hair was wet with sweat.

Ellen set her down in a chair and undid the fastenings on her dress, then quickly reached for the enamel bowl in the sink, which she had scrubbed out that morning with carbolic soap. She poured water into the bowl from the kettle, which fortunately had been standing in the hearth and not on the kettle hook so was not very hot, then removed all Mary’s clothing, stood her in the bowl and rinsed her down with a flannel.

Sarah began to giggle and undo her shoes, and Ellen saw that she thought they were playing a game and wanted to join in; then Thomas turned himself round and began sliding out of the chair she had settled him in. He landed with a bump on the floor and began to scream.

Mary could barely stand, her arms and legs were so feeble, but Ellen kept her arm round her and continued to sponge her, trying to cool her down.

Sarah had given up on the buttons on her shoes and was trying to climb into the bowl with Mary. ‘No, Sarah, you must wait,’ Ellen said. ‘Please go and play with Thomas so that he doesn’t cry.’ Then the door opened and Harry came in.

‘What’s going on? I can hear Thomas shrieking from outside.’ He bent down and picked up his son. ‘Stop that now, Thomas. Ellen, he’s got blood on his mouth. He’s cut himself.’

‘He fell out of the chair.’ Now that Harry was home, Ellen turned her full attention to Mary. ‘Mary’s sick.’