Dulcie studied the couple seated in the centre of the family group and thought how much they reminded her of her own parents. The father, with his whiskery face and big rough hands, looking so ill at ease in his Sunday suit. And the mother, so proud and so careworn.

‘And who’s this?’ Dulcie picked up another photograph. It was a dark-haired, bearded man in his late-thirties or early forties. Handsome, in a rough sort of way. He was also in his Sunday best, a Bible tucked under his arm.

‘That’s Mr – Noah – Wells,’ Grace mumbled.

Dulcie looked at the piercing eyes staring back at her from the photograph. ‘Is he a friend of yours?’

‘He’s my fiancé.’

Dulcie looked up sharply. Grace was blushing fiery red to the roots of her hair. ‘Your fiancé? You’re engaged?’

Grace looked away. ‘I think I might be, but I’m not sure.’

Dulcie stared at her, stunned. ‘How on earth can you not be sure?’

‘It’s hard to explain.’

‘Has he asked you to marry him?’

‘Sort of. But I haven’t said yes yet,’ Grace added hurriedly.

‘And are you going to say yes?’

‘I don’t know. Probably. I don’t know if I have much choice really.’

Grace took the photograph out of Dulcie’s hand, glanced at it for a moment then shoved it away in the drawer. She looked rather wretched for a girl who might be newly engaged, Dulcie thought.

‘I think you’d better tell me all about it,’ she said.

Dulcie listened in growing astonishment as Grace explained what had happened to her at Christmas.

‘So if I understand you, this man you scarcely know has just lost his wife and now he wants you to replace her?’ Grace nodded. ‘And your parents want you to marry him because he’s rich and owns a lot of land.’

‘That isn’t the only reason,’ Grace argued. ‘They know he’ll be a good husband. They want me to be happy.’

‘But how can you be happy with someone you hardly know?’

Grace lifted her shoulders in a shrug. ‘He seems nice. And I’ll have a husband and a home of my own. And I’ll be close to my family. It’s everything I could want, really.’

‘And what about love? Don’t you want that, too?’

‘I’m sure I could make myself love him in time.’

‘You can’t make yourself fall in love with someone, you know.’

Grace turned to her with a frown. ‘But you said you could. You decided to fall in love with Dr Logan, didn’t you?’

‘That’s different,’ Dulcie muttered.

‘How?’

Dulcie looked into Grace’s face. She seemed genuinely perplexed. She opened her mouth to speak, then found she could not answer.

‘Dr Logan is my type,’ she said at last.

‘How do you know that? You’ve barely spoken to him.’

‘I just know, all right?’ Dulcie snapped.

Dulcie was washing up the breakfast dishes in the kitchen with Miriam Trott when Nurse Hanley appeared in the doorway and said, ‘Moore, you are to report to Matron’s office immediately.’