‘I am,’ Lou said. At least it gave her something other than herself to think about.

‘If you insist,’ Mrs Hart smiled. ‘Not long into the year after I met Fred, I took a nursing course in secret, then, and much to my mother’s horror, I travelled to London to work with a charity helping families in the East End of the city. It was a shock for a young woman like me, who had grown up surrounded by such privilege, to bear witness to the appalling conditions in which some human beings are forced to exist. I honestly cannot count the number of new lives I helped enter this world and how many hands I held as they departed.

‘What little free time I had away from my duties, I spent attending political lectures and rallies. I became a stalwart of any socialist society or movement that would have me. And do you know, throughout all of those years, Fred never gave up on me. Whenever he was home on leave, he sought me out, each time renewing his proposal. I always refused, convincing myself that I didn’t want to relinquish control of my life to a man.

‘And then, when I was almost thirty, Frederick tracked me down to the boarding house where I was living in Bethnal Green. He was so earnest in his proposal, and I finally accepted. I told everybody that he had worn me down, and I felt sorry for the poor, unfortunate man. The truth was that I had seen so much sadness and wretchedness that I no longer wanted to face life without the chance of happiness. I had always found Frederick charming and handsome – although I would never have admitted as much to him. How stupid I had been to deny us both the opportunity of a life together for so long. After we married, Fred never once attempted to discourage me from my work or politics. He even tolerated my turning the parlour of our small house in Putney into a headquarters for my various campaigns. He accepted it all as part of the woman I was. The woman he loved.’

The flames of the fire shone in Mrs Hart’s eyes, but her voice was quiet when she said, ‘Fourteen Christmases ago, I left our home and travelled here to pass the festive season with my family as Fred was posted abroad. During my mother’s Christmas Eve Ball, a telegram arrived. Fred had been killed leading a cavalry charge in the Transvaal. After that, I returned to Hill House to live permanently. I had lost my appetite for life in London. My nephews and niece became my world. I don’t know that I would have survived without my family to fill the void left by the loss of my beloved Fred.’ As her story came to an end, the light that usually burned so bright in Mrs Hart, was extinguished.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Lou said. Her words sounded trite and came nowhere close to expressing the sadness she felt in the face of such sorrow.