“Benjie had already looked into all the possibilities. And so did our fellow trustee, Eliot, but no. It would have cost more to preserve than to re-build. There wasn’t sufficient money in the trust fund to do either, unfortunately.”

“So, where did the children go?”

“To a very well run orphanage in Wakefield.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, Kate, you’re interested in adopting. I never thought, or I would have asked you over before the children left.”

Adoption never occurred to me, and I said so. “I’ve semi-adopted my niece Harriet, that’s enough for me.”

And then suddenly, without preamble, she said. “I’m barren, Kate. We have tried so determinedly to have a child, which has been a great pleasure for both Benjie and me, but there it is.”

I was so taken aback by her sudden intimate confidence that I did not know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You are in the same situation, childless, but with good reason.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“Several, and the best. I stayed with an infirm old aunt in Surrey, taking care of her. She told me about the daughter of an acquaintance who went to a clinic run by a Harley Street chap, and I gave it a try.”

“I’d no idea.” This was a side to Gertrude I had not seen. It surprised me to think of her taking care of an old aunt. As to children, she has always put herself and Benjie first. I suppose having an heir was important, but neither she nor Benjie had seemed to mind.

“I’ve been poked and prodded and operated on, to no avail.”

“Do you think it might Benjie’s difficulty rather than yours?”

Her look of surprise seemed to say that this had never occurred to her. “Heavens no! Even if it is, it couldn’t be admitted, if you see what I mean. So I have made a decision to adopt. Do you think that’s shocking?”

“It would be odd if I thought that shocking. I’m adopted.”

“Never!”

“I don’t go around saying it, but it’s not something I would hide.”

“Then I’m glad I’ve told you. You are the perfect person to stand by me and persuade Benjie that I’m doing the right thing.”

“Why, what does he say?”

“He refuses to discuss the matter. I have visited the National Adoption Society’s office in Baker Street. I intend that we should choose a baby.”

“Why London? Aren’t there children nearby that you might consider? What about all the children who have just gone to the orphanage in Wakefield?”

She hesitated. “This may sound hard-hearted, but I don’t want just any child. It could be from some poor creature who got herself into trouble up a back alley on a dark night and ended up in the workhouse. I want an intelligent child. The Adoption Society takes family histories. They have babies whose lineage is impeccable.”

I could not think what to say. No one would describe my heritage as impeccable, yet I had turned out well. “You would be giving a child a good chance in life, Gertrude.”