Fastidiously, the doctor stepped backwards. ‘Quite so, quite so.’ There was a pause whilst Esther waited. Then he went on, ‘You live here with Mr Brumby, I understand?’

That’s right, sir. I’ve been here nearly a year now.’ Esther felt the doctor looking her up and down.

‘Well, my dear.’ The doctor’s voice had a kindly, concerned note now. ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you that Mr Brumby is a sick man. I fear he has not many weeks to live. I’m very sorry, but there’s nothing I can do to help him.’

Esther stared at the doctor. ‘I – I should have called you sooner. I – should . . .’

Doctor Blair laid his hand upon Esther’s shoulder. ‘It wouldn’t have made any difference, my dear. Don’t reproach yourself. He’s a tired old man who’s worked this land all his life. He’s worn out – that’s the truth of it. There’s nothing I could have done for him, not even if I had come earlier.’

‘Is he in any pain?’ Esther wanted to know.

The doctor shook his head. ‘Not that I can find out. But his breathing’s bad – very bad – and will get worse, my dear, before the end.’ He met Esther’s steady gaze. ‘But you let me know, and I’ll do what I can to help him.’

Esther nodded and said hoarsely, ‘Thank you, sir.’

Doctor Blair gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze. ‘Your being here makes his passing a lot easier, my dear. A lot easier than if he were still living on his own. Just remember that.’

‘Why?’ she asked candidly. ‘I seem to be able to do so little.’

‘You being here means he can die in his own home, on the land he has always loved. Otherwise . . .’ He paused and took a deep breath. ‘I would have had to take him away.’

Esther’s eyes widened and her lips parted in a gasp. Grim tales of being sent to the workhouse had been hurled at her by her aunt so often as a threat that she understood at once what the doctor meant. She wasn’t sure that it was still a reality that unwanted children, the destitute, the old and the sick actually ended up in the workhouse, but the fear itself was enough.

‘I’ll look after him, mester – I mean, doctor,’ she said in a voice that was none too steady.

‘Yes, my dear, I believe you will,’ he said, with a final pat of encouragement and understanding.

As the doctor turned to leave, she was surprised to feel a lump in her throat and a prickle of unaccustomed tears. She realized suddenly just how fond she had become of the grumpy old man.