“Yes, I do. I admire Julia, but I could never be like her. Every time I try to do what is expected of me, I fail.”

“Then stop trying. That is my advice to you.”

She laughed. “Is it really that simple? I don’t want to do what someone else tells me, I want to please myself. I know that is a frightfully selfish thing to say. . . .”

“It is music to my ears. If you don’t stand up for who you are, then no-one else will.”

“I’ve never thought of it that way.”

“And here endeth the lesson. Be yourself, Margaret. You are different. Find a way to embrace that.”

“But how?”

“Now that, I’m afraid, I can’t help you with. We each need to follow our own path. I have chosen mine; you must forge your own. What is stopping you from leaving here?”

“Who, you mean. My father.”

“There you are, then; that is the obstacle you must overcome.”

“That is easier said than done.”

“I never said it would be easy. I do believe it’s starting to rain. Come on.” Lewis pulled her to her feet, shaking his head at the tears which filled her eyes. “What are those for?”

“Embrace being different. No-one has ever said that to me before. I will try, though I don’t know how.”

He kissed her cheek. “You’ll find a way. As I said, it won’t be easy. There will be tears, and times when you will ask yourself, is it worth it? But take it from one who knows. Ultimately, it is.”

Susannah Elmhirst to Lady Margaret

Susannah Elmhirst to Lady Margaret

The Rectory, Lambeth, 26 July 1867

Dear Lady Margaret,

What a lovely surprise to hear from you after all this time, and for such an unexpected and exciting reason. Yes, Billy does still sell his drawings at the market and, yes, he still has Muffin with him and of course he remembers you. When I asked him if he would be interested in doing some drawings to illustrate your stories, I thought he would burst with pride. He can’t read, as you suspected, but I have arranged for Verity’s little girl Nellie to read the stories to him. In fact, they began this morning, working at a table in the church hall. The money you sent was more than enough for pencils, paints, and paper. I have given Billy an advance of a quarter of the fee you so generously offer, and will take the precaution of paying him the rest over a number of weeks.

I hope you will excuse me if I take the liberty of saying that you sound in much better spirits, and I am both glad and relieved if that is the case. All is well here. I have finally managed to recruit someone to help with the housework, thank goodness. And as for my brother—time is a great healer.