Over tea in the kitchen Mrs Wallow heard about The Dolphin Theatre. She said her niece had told her the little girl was a theatrical but she had not known she was to appear at The Dolphin. Then she added: ‘But I knew she was someone special as soon as I opened the door. You can’t mistake good clothes when you see them.’

Sarah, just to be friendly, was about to tell Mrs Wallow about Margaret’s luck on being given Miss Katie’s cast-off clothes when Margaret gave her such a look that she hurriedly shut her mouth. She knew she was already in disgrace for having refused to throw away the boots or lend the money for finer stockings for, since leaving the shoe shop, Margaret had stumped along refusing to say a word. So instead of telling Mrs Wallow about Katie’s clothes she turned the conversation to business – the all-important question of rent and when they could move in.

While this was going on Margaret wandered round the exquisitely kept kitchen. Suddenly she came face to face with a calendar. It had a picture on it of the countryside in autumn. In the foreground there was a field so like the one in which the Fortescues had set up their theatre that Margaret felt she was there, she could almost see the little tent Sarah had used for the wardrobe. Looking at it again in her mind’s eye it was as if a wind blew through Margaret, for suddenly she was breathless with love for Sarah and bitterly ashamed of herself. Sarah had not wanted to run away, she was happy with the Fortescues. She had done it for her. But for Sarah and her savings, Margaret would never have heard of The Dolphin Theatre. But for Sarah she would never have bought those gorgeous shoes. She had been an ungrateful beast. However hard she tried she could never thank Sarah enough.

Just then Sarah got up and said goodbye to Mrs Wallow, and told her to expect them the following afternoon.

Margaret also said goodbye to Mrs Wallow but directly they were in the street she slipped a hand under Sarah’s arm and squeezed it.

‘I do love you, Sarah, truly I do. I don’t want to be a beast like I was this morning and I do pray I never will be again, but if I am, please scold me for I’m afraid I have a difficult nature.’

Chapter Eight

MISS GREY HAS A PLAN

Miss Grey was not by nature timorous. It was impossible to be timorous, brought up as she had been, for in those days just living had been an adventure. Her father had been an extremely honest man and would not only have been appalled if he had known any of the food on his table was not honestly come by but would have refused to eat it. So if sometimes fish had come from rivers they had no right to fish in, or a pheasant was caught in a rabbit snare, she had been as skilled as her sisters in explaining the unexplainable. This gift, however, did not help her in dealing with Lady Teaser, of whom she was terrified. Though Lady Teaser had never called her, ‘That comical Miss Grey’ to her face, she made it perfectly clear that was how she thought of her. If she had arranged things Miss Grey would never have come inside her home, but Sir John had arranged everything.