‘Oh, yes, sir. Thank you, sir! And I’m ever so sorry about earlier.’

‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry about,’ he said. ‘Go along, and don’t worry.’

All morning May expected to be scolded or worse, dismissed, but nothing happened. Then, when she was dusting the drawing room, she heard voices from the morning room, which was next door. Mr Freeman was in there, which was surprising as he usually spent all day at his shop.

‘How can you expect the child to work, when she’s half starved?’ His voice was raised in what sounded like exasperation.

Mrs Freeman’s reply was too quiet for May to hear, but then her husband replied, ‘Really, Lydia, you amaze me sometimes. Are you in charge here, or is the cook? Oh, never mind! Leave it to me.’

Just before teatime, when May was busy polishing the knives and forks ready for dinner and Mrs Wilkins was sitting by the range with some knitting on her lap and her eyes closed, Mr Freeman came into the kitchen. It was an unheard of event and Mrs Wilkins jumped to her feet in a fluster and curtsied.

‘Mr Freeman, sir! Is there something you want? Why didn’t you ring? The girl could have brought you anything you need.’

‘It is about the girl that I wish to speak.’

May dropped the knife she was polishing in alarm and Mrs Wilkins turned to her sharply. ‘Take those things into the scullery and finish them there.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ May mumbled and scuttled away. So it had come! Mr Freeman had promised not to say anything, but this showed what a gentleman’s promise was worth. She knew Mrs Wilkins was already dissatisfied with her. A complaint from the master would be all that was needed to get her dismissed – and without a character, in all probability. She remembered the governor’s warning and choked back a sob at the thought that she might be cast out onto the street with nothing.

Mr Freeman’s voice carried through the half-open door. ‘My wife tells me she leaves the ordering and management of food entirely in your hands. So I am asking you why it is that May is being kept on such a meagre regime.’

‘She’s been complaining to you, sir, has she? She’s no right or reason to do that.’

‘She has not complained, but I have eyes in my head. The girl is half-starved and I want to know why.’

‘The food’s there. It’s not my fault if she doesn’t eat it.’

‘I do not think that is entirely true, Mrs Wilkins. Now, let us have no more evasions. What is behind all this?’

‘Well, sir –’ May could hear that the cook was desperately trying to find excuses ‘– it’s like this: when Madam agreed that we needed more help in the house, she told me that it was her understanding that the feeding of an extra mouth should come out of the housekeeping, without any extra cost. I tried to tell her different, but she would have it so.’