‘Well, I suppose I’ll have to make the best of it. Your father says Ethan’s not a bad lad, and your grandfather seems to be relishing the thought of you two walking out together. Even told me he was looking forward to a wedding, instead of a funeral. I personally hope it doesn’t come to that – wedding indeed! You’d better both behave yourselves, for we are not having the embarrassment of a hurried wedding in the family, so don’t be lifting your skirts, my girl, else I’ll wipe my hands of you.’ The bread she was making got the pummelling of its life as Harriet vented her frustration on the dough.

‘No, Mother, we would never do that.’ Rosie blushed and passed her mother the greased bread tins, hoping to be out of her earshot soon.

‘You can go and sweep out the feed-room and make up Ethan a bed in it. Take them old sheets that the Irishmen have been using, seeing as your father has said Ethan can sleep in there. I’m just glad he’s not let him into the main house. I’d never have slept for listening for him and you sneaking about the place. Because that’s what he’d do, I just know it.’

Harriet looked across at her daughter. She’d wanted better for her, but Rosie’s happiness was the main thing and she was in better spirits this morning.

‘Take that old piece of gingham that’s in the bedding box at the end of my bed – it’ll make him some curtains. And I don’t want to see him with next to nothing on in a morning, when I’m off about my work. There’s two old chairs that Archie brought with him and a table in the outhouse; take him those as well. We’d better give him a better standard of living, if he’s to walk out with you.’ Harriet watched as Rosie grinned at her. ‘You can grin, my lass, but you behave with him! Just until we know what he’s about. And time will tell us that – if you’re still on his arm this coming spring.’