Polly had remained mute, and moved only to pat the hand Harriet had laid on her shoulder.

‘Is this a new symptom, this refusal to speak?’ Albert asked Harriet, in front of Polly, after the solicitor had given his condolences and bade them a good afternoon. The two of them had got Polly back into bed.

‘Thank you for your help. Excuse me,’ Harriet replied, and lifted the lid of the commode. She was grimly satisfied when he muttered an excuse and soon after left the house. Polly didn’t speak or look at Harriet when she returned with a clean bucket, but lay with her chin on her chest, seemingly half asleep.

Harriet found Sadie cleaning the dining-room furniture, her sleeves rolled up.

‘Shall I fetch the polish, Sadie?’

‘No, thank you. Nowt wrong wi’ using a bit of elbow grease.’

‘I’m walking to the haberdashers on Infirmary Road.’

Sadie raised an eyebrow.

‘I need lace to trim my new bonnet.’

Satisfied with the flicker of scorn on Sadie’s face at so frivolous a pursuit, Harriet escaped. It was a dank afternoon, darkening rapidly. She took the omnibus the few stops to Louisa’s cottage, recalling an earlier journey, to meet Silas, when a dozing man had slid sideways and come to rest his head on her shoulder. She had been happy then. Why was happiness only recognised in hindsight? If she was ever happy again, she would try to capture it in the moment, relish it like a precious jewel.

Harriet opened the door to Louisa’s cottage without knocking, as she had been accustomed to doing during frequent visits during the summer. Shandy lay by the fireplace, chin on paws, and sprang up to greet her with a single welcoming bark. Louisa was hanging clothes on the rack above the fireplace. Her eyes at first lit up when she saw Harriet, but then a shadow fell across her face. ‘Shandy! Go on.’

She spoke harshly and the dog gave her a wounded look as she slunk back to her place by the fire and lay down, replacing her chin on her paws, her eyes flicking between the two women.

‘I’m sorry. I should have knocked,’ said Harriet. ‘It’s been a while. I’ve surprised you.’

Louisa hoisted the rack and wound the rope around the double hook on the wall, paying close attention to an action she must have carried out hundreds of times and surely could do with her eyes closed. She rearranged some of the garments. When she finally glanced at Harriet, there were angry spots of colour on her cheeks.

‘I wondered when tha’d finally show thee face.’

Harriet had braced herself for this. ‘I’m sorry, Louisa. I was forbidden from seeing you. I still am. My uncle demanded it before he died and now I have Mr Boothby breathing down my neck. I’m sure he’s got the new maid spying on me. Oh, Louisa. I have agreed to marry him.’

‘All right for some, eh? He’s rich enough.’