The look on Mrs Wilkins’s face told May that there was no point in trying to appeal to her better nature. As far as May could make out, she didn’t have one. She sighed and went on polishing the silver. It was no good trying to go over her head to Mrs Freeman. May had been in service long enough now to understand how the household worked. Mr Freeman left everything to his wife, unless something was forcibly brought to his attention, as it had been by May’s collapse; and Mrs Freeman was completely in thrall to Mrs Wilkins. From little snippets of gossip, overheard while she was working, May had divined that she had married very young and had come from a family that was not particularly well off. Her husband’s success in business had lifted her up the social scale, but she was uncertain exactly what was expected of her now. Mrs Wilkins had established early on that she understood these matters and could be relied on to prevent her mistress from making some social gaffe, and now Lydia Freeman was frightened to go against her advice. As the household did not run to a lady’s maid, Mrs Wilkins took on some of her duties. She helped Mrs Freeman to dress in the mornings and was often closeted with her for some time, ‘taking the daily orders’ in her words; but May wondered who was giving the orders and who was receiving them. Later, Mrs Wilkins helped her mistress undress and prepare for bed, and once again she was often there for much longer than seemed necessary.

Mrs Freeman’s anxiety about establishing her position in society was confirmed by her attitude to Isabella’s education. One day, while May was sweeping the stairs leading up to the schoolroom, she heard Miss Parsons’ voice raised in irritation.

‘You know quite well that your mama wishes you to acquire all the attributes of an educated young lady. The programme she has devised for you will equip you to mix in society at any level and it is in your own best interests to fulfil it to the best of your ability.’