‘So very happy, Lady Rose. Funnily enough, I was just remembering when Roger, the blacksmith’s son, used to sing that song. It was originally a Longfellow poem. He had such a lovely voice.’

‘I wish I knew where this Roger is now,’ said Rose. ‘What are you working at?’

Miss Friendly flushed slightly. ‘I regret to say that I am working for myself just now. I have put on weight and I am letting out a gown.’

Rose laughed. ‘You needed to put on weight’ Then she said, ‘Did you ever do any charity work?’

‘When Papa was alive I used to call on the unfortunate of the village. There were so many. I would give them what food we could spare.’

‘Miss Levine has suggested that I might do some work in the soup kitchens of the East End. Perhaps you might care to accompany me?’

‘Gladly. Charity work is very rewarding.’

‘Then I shall let you know when we are setting out.’

Rose went back down the stairs and told Daisy they would be taking Miss Friendly with them when they set out on charity work. To Daisy, a trip to the East End of London was a journey back into her past that she was reluctant to make.

She asked, ‘Did Miss Friendly remember anything more about Dolly that might be important?’

‘No, she was just saying, however, that this Roger Dallow had an excellent singing voice.’

Daisy’s green eyes gleamed. ‘If I were a blacksmith’s lad and had a good voice and had endured enough hard labour to last me a lifetime, I’d try to get a job in the music hall.’

‘I never thought of that. But there are so many theatres in London.’

‘I could go out and buy a copy of The Stage Directory. The offices are in Covent Garden opposite the Theatre Royal.’

‘And you think he might be in there?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Good. Let us go now. I do not have an engagement until this evening.’

They took one of the earl’s carriages to Covent Garden. Rose waited until Daisy went in and bought a copy of the paper. She emerged pleased with herself. ‘It only costs a penny now.’

‘Let’s go to Swan and Edgar for tea. We can look at it there and quiz the ladies’ hats.’

The department store of Swan and Edgar at Piccadilly Circus was famous for its teas. They also had an orchestra to entertain the customers.

‘Now,’ said Daisy, ‘let’s see if he’s in here.’

Rose leaned back in her chair and listened to the sugary strains of the orchestra playing ‘Poor Wandering One’ from The Pirates of Penzance. Did Harry ever think of her? she wondered.

‘There’s something here,’ said Daisy. ‘It doesn’t say Roger Dallow, but it says there’s someone called Sam Duval and he’s billed at the Fulham Palace Music Hall as The Singing Blacksmith.’

‘I wish we could go this evening but we are invited to the Pocingtons for dinner.’

‘You could have a headache.’