Though Marion had been without Peter for several days, she was this time quite calm about his absence, for this was quite different from when he had been in the unknown world of Rutherford the previous month. She felt annoyed that she had overslept for she had plenty of plans for the day, so she rose at once and woke Peterkin. She had previously arranged that Peterkin should go off to the woods every day from now with a length of rope and the company of two of Nick and Martha’s boys, to collect as much loose dry firewood as they could before the masses of sodden autumn leaves covered up any fallen branches and made them too wet for burning. So Peterkin departed, with a hunk of bread in a bag and a length of rope round his waist, to collect the other boys in the village.

Marion had instructed him firmly: ‘Now work. Don’t play around, you’re not a child any longer, and if there are bits that you can’t all three drag, try to prop them up against a tree and remember where, and tell Nick when you get back.’

Peterkin said, ‘Yes, yes,’ impatient to be off for a whole unsupervised day with his mates.

Marion wished to spend as much of her time as possible during Peter’s absence in spinning. For reasons of economics beyond Marion’s comprehension, the two panniers that belonged to Sir William in Rutherford were to be returned there as soon as possible, filled with more spun wool, to pay, so it was said, for salt already supplied. Sir Hugh had been party to this bargain and had assured Marion, and anyone else who would listen, that it was only his outspoken pleading that had persuaded the Rutherford people to let him take as much salt as he had done.

Up at the Hall Ed-me-boy was raring to go down to Rutherford again with a horse with the two panniers full of spun wool, and Tom was anxiously trying to prevent or to postpone this journey. Marion saw well how it was. She knew Tom’s every thought was of his son and how he lived by the boy’s presence and he had suddenly realized that Ed-me-boy was almost grown up and might wish to separate himself from his possessive father. The exciting adventure of a journey to Rutherford lured Ed-me-boy, and Tom was fearful. However, the panniers must be returned and the journey should be made before winter set in, but it was no good making the journey until enough wool had been spun to fill the panniers. Marion had a private hope that if it were known that she had supplied most of the spun wool, more even than Margery Hunter, some extra bonus such as a new earthenware milk bowl might be brought back for her particularly. The more she could spin the better.

But first there were the ordinary jobs to be done. She must go down to the water-place with her smaller bucket, the larger one being full of goat’s milk souring for cheese. She brought up the water, tipped some of it into the Rutherford pot, now empty of goose meat, for the day’s drinking and then filled up the hens’ drinking butt in the garden. This was an old leaky rather shallow tub which she had half sunk into the earth, and there was a broad bit of wood leaning up against it for the hens to walk up to reach the water. Then, having told Alice to be a good girl, Marion took up the now empty bucket and went to milk her goat.