The ‘programme’ was a subject of great fascination for May. Apart from her usual lessons with Miss Parsons, Isabella had a regular timetable of classes from experts in other areas. On Monday afternoons a large lady with a flamboyant taste in dress, called Madame Clara, came to give her piano lessons. On Tuesdays she was taken for riding lessons, Friday was dancing classes, and on Wednesdays Signor Carlucci, in frock coat and bristling moustaches, came to teach her singing. But it was the lessons that took place on Thursdays that filled May with envy. Then Mr Lattimer came to teach Isabella to draw and paint. May had to prepare the room for the lessons, setting out sketchbooks and sheets of unblemished paper, pencils and charcoal and boxes of watercolour paints. She was tempted, more than once, to help herself to a sheet or two of paper, but she knew that Miss Parsons kept a close eye on all the supplies and they would soon be missed. Occasionally, when she was clearing up, she sneaked a look at the contents of Isabella’s sketchbook. It was obvious that she had very little talent for art.

One afternoon in early autumn May was polishing the brasses in the main hallway when Mrs Wilkins appeared from upstairs.

‘Missus wants you. She’s in her bedroom.’

‘What does she want me for?’ May asked nervously.

‘I expect she’ll tell you when you get there – if she hasn’t got tired of waiting for you,’ was the terse response.

May climbed the stairs and knocked on the door of Mrs Freeman’s bedroom.

‘Come in.’ There was a hint of impatience in the tone. May entered, with Mrs Wilkins hard on her heels.

A green silk dress was spread out on the bed and Lydia Freeman was standing beside it, holding one sleeve and looking anxious.

‘Jane Kelly told me you are good with your needle and have an eye for design.’

‘Yes, ma’am. I mean, yes, Mrs Kelly did think well of my work.’ May felt a small quiver of excitement.

Mrs Freeman threw down the sleeve she was holding. ‘This gown was good enough last season, but fashions have changed. It’s too good to throw out. There is going to be a Grand Bazaar in St George’s Hall on October 8th in aid of relief for Confederate Prisoners of War and their families. A great many high-born ladies have volunteered to provide stalls and I have been asked to help. I must have something suitable to wear. I want you to see what you can do to bring this up to date.’

May swallowed. ‘I don’t know what the latest fashions are, ma’am. I’ll do my best but …’

Mrs Freeman interrupted her. ‘There’s a magazine here, with pictures of the latest things from Paris. You can copy from that.’