“You will both set a very fine example for my cousin.” Julia sighed dramatically and turned to the other woman in the room, her auburn-haired, fair cousin. “Don’t mind them, Honora. Emblyn would never box Lady Basset’s ears.”

Honora Berkeley smiled with real amusement. “I should hope not, but I’ve met more than one honest Cornish woman who would be more than up to the task, so perhaps she would, if given the right provocation.”

Adelaide smiled at the girl, who was not so much younger than herself, yet seemed so innocent by the same token. “We are an unusual bunch, Miss Berkeley, but there is much affection between us.”

“I can see that.” She focused on her needlework, which appeared to be for a cushion. “If only all families shared such a thing.”

“Hush,” Julia urged gently, putting a hand on her cousin’s arm. “John and I are delighted to have you for Christmas, no matter the reason.”

Miss Berkeley nodded, sighing a little and looking up. “I’ve been sitting too long. Miss Moyle, would you mind showing me some of Trevadden? If I’m to feel at all comfortable tomorrow evening, I should like to see what I can now.”

“O’course!” Emblyn rose at once, setting her scarf aside. “Happy to oblige ee, Miz Berkeley.”

“Please,” the girl said as she smiled at Emblyn without reserve or shame. “Call me Honora. It means more to me.”

Emblyn nodded and gestured for Miss Berkeley to lead the way out of the room, and the two of them departed with quiet conversation continuing between them.

Adelaide waited a moment, then looked at Julia. “What in the world does she mean?”

Julia exhaled in irritation, shaking her head. “Her parents have never been warm with each other, but now they are living separately. Neither wanted her with them for Christmas, and her siblings have other plans and cannot take her. I adore my cousin, and had I known the trouble…” She growled, hiding a little. “I would have invited her myself rather than simply respond to her request to come.”

“Oh, the poor lamb.” Adelaide looked at the doorway as though she could still see her retreating form. “I might have wished for less distance in my family, but I always felt wanted.”

“Honora ought to feel caught between her parents,” Julia insisted, picking up her own embroidery and angrily stabbing her needle into the fabric. “Not as though she’s an inconvenience to them both.”