‘Oh, the poor mite!’ she pronounced. ‘I’m glad you brought her to me, Isabel.’

‘So am I, dear aunt,’ said Isabel, and the women embraced each other.

‘William!’ Aunt Margaret called, and a kindly-looking man appeared. He greeted Isabel with a kiss and patted Katheryn’s head.

‘You’re a pretty little thing,’ he told her. ‘I hope we’re going to be friends.’ Katheryn ventured a tentative smile.

‘Come in the warm, child,’ Aunt Margaret instructed. ‘Let’s get some decent food into you.’ In the hall, she stood back and appraised Katheryn. ‘I can see you’re my sister Joyce’s child; you look just like her, dear, apart from your hair. That auburn hair comes from the Howards. Joyce was fair, like me.’ She dabbed her eyes with a kerchief. ‘I can’t believe she’s gone. I hope he had her buried decently!’

Katheryn saw Isabel frown at Aunt Margaret. ‘Of course he did,’ she said. ‘She’s at Lambeth, in the Howard chapel.’

That seemed to satisfy Aunt Margaret. ‘Now, Katheryn,’ she said, ‘you shall meet your cousins.’ She led them into a parlour where four children in her very image were sitting at a table. They all rose and bowed or curtseyed as their mother introduced them. ‘This is Thomas; he’s eight, and John, who is seven. Joan’s our eldest; she’s fourteen, and Anne is twelve. Joan and Anne are both to be wed soon. We shall miss them when they leave the manor.’

The children all seemed friendly. Thomas was a mite shy at first, but Katheryn thought he might be interesting and kind when you got to know him, whereas John had a mischievous look about him, and would not sit still, to his parents’ exasperation. The girls were sweet things and made much of Katheryn, who was eager to point out that she had brothers too and loved to play games with them.

‘Do you play catch and ninepins?’ John asked.

‘I can play anything!’ Katheryn boasted.

‘So can I!’ he countered.

The adults left them to it and went off to unpack Katheryn’s things. Anne suggested a game of hide-and-seek and pulled Katheryn along with her to show her the many hiding places the old house afforded.

‘It’s an ancient place,’ she told her. ‘It’s two hundred years old!’

There were lots of corners and crannies within the numerous stairs and chambers, and cupboards and closets galore; soon Katheryn was racing about and shrieking with the rest. By the time they were called to dinner in the parlour, she was feeling a lot happier.