I read my mother’s thoughts. This might be a possibility. Clothes were bought on trips to London or even in Plymouth. There was one stylish dressmaker there. But I had often heard my mother say: “How I wish we had dear old Miss Semple here.” Miss Semple had had her room in the attics somewhere and up there was a big airy and light room which had been used as a sewing room. Miss Semple had worked there until she died three years ago.

At that moment the girl swayed a little; she would have fallen to the ground if my mother had not caught her.

“Poor soul, she has fainted,” said my mother. “Help me, Angelet. Get her head down. That will revive her.”

In a few seconds she had opened her eyes.

“Oh forgive me,” she said.

“My dear child,” began my mother, “we’re going to take you into the house. You need to rest a while.”

We took her into a room leading off the hall where people waited if they wanted to see my parents about anything.

“Ring and tell someone to bring me some brandy,” said my mother.

I did so.

The girl was sitting in a chair. She said: “I’m all right now. I’m sorry. It was foolish of me.”

“You’re not all right,” said my mother firmly. “You’re going to rest a while.”

A servant brought the brandy which the girl took half reluctantly. She seemed to recover a little.

She half rose to her feet but my mother gently pushed her back into the chair.

“Tell me,” she said. “Where have you come from? And why is a girl like you looking for work?”

She smiled ruefully. “It’s no use pretending, is it? I have to find work … quickly. I’m desperate. I have nowhere to go.”

“I thought you were staying at the Fisherman’s Rest,” I said.

“I have to leave tomorrow. I have no …”

“Why did you come here?” asked my mother.

“I knew there were one or two big houses in the neighborhood. I thought I might find work in one of them. So …”

“I see,” said my mother. “And where have you come from?”

“My home was in Barnton … in Devon. My father was the rector. He was much older than my mother and my parents were not young, either of them, when they married. I was the only child. I looked after my father and when my mother died … well, it was not easy. He was ill for some time and he had to retire. All his savings were used up. There were some debts and when everything was sold I had very little. I knew it wouldn’t last. I had to find something I could do. You see, I have never been trained for anything but I used to do a lot of sewing for people in the neighborhood and acquaintances. I’m really good at it …” she ended almost pleadingly.

My mother had made a decision. “You could see how you liked it here,” she said. “We had Miss Semple who worked for us for years. She died three years ago. We were all very fond of her and she has never been replaced. Her room has never been used and there is the sewing room next to it.”

Her face was illumined with joy. She said: “Do you really mean it …?”

“Of course,” replied my mother. “Now let us be practical. I’ll take you up to see the room right away.”

She had taken my mother’s hand; her eyes were closed. I thought she was going to burst into tears, but she did not.

My mother was faintly embarrassed by this show of gratitude. She said quickly: “I suppose you have some things which you will want to bring.”

“I have a few clothes at the Fisherman’s Rest. That’s all.”

“I’ll show you your room and then you can go to the inn and collect your things. You can settle in right away.”

“You are so kind … This seems too wonderful to be true.”

We took her up and showed her the rooms. In the sewing room was a big table at which Miss Semple had sat; and there were the dummies she used, and in the drawers of the table her cottons and tape measure just as she had left them.

She told us then that her name was Grace Gilmore, and that she hoped one day to repay us for all the kindness we had shown her.

That was how Grace Gilmore came to Cador.

There was a certain resentment below stairs where what was called “Interference from the Top” was not approved of; but my mother told them that Miss Gilmore was a genteel young lady who had fallen on hard times and she wanted them all to be as helpful towards her as possible.

Watson and Mrs. Penlock both agreed that they would do all they could to help “the young body” settle in and they implied that although it was Watson’s prerogative to engage staff, they did see that sewing was something outside his domain; so perhaps on this occasion it was not such a breach of household protocol as it had at first seemed.

Later that day, Grace Gilmore arrived with her personal belongings and was settled into the rooms at the top of the house.

She was very eager to begin work and we soon discovered that she was an excellent seamstress.

“We’ve been lucky,” said my mother. “And she is a lady, which is a help too. We must be very kind to her, poor girl. She has had such a bad time and she is really quite young. I have no doubt that she could help Miss Prentiss in some ways.”

I was pleased that we had been able to help her. Grace Gilmore interested me. There was something mysterious about her.

Benedict arrived at Cador. He was even more handsome than I remembered.

“Why,” he cried, “you’ve grown. You’re almost a young lady now.”

He laughed. I noticed that he had beautiful white teeth and his eyes were bluer than I remembered.

“I’m settling in now,” he said. “I’ll soon be as English as you.”

My parents greeted him with pleasure and in a few days he seemed to become part of Cador. He spent a good deal of time with my father. Jack was very taken with him and he was soon popular with the servants.

Whenever I could be with him I would. He seemed to enjoy my company. But of course he had come with a purpose and he was kept busy. He was full of enthusiasm for the estate; and when he was not with my father he seemed to be with John Polstark, our manager. He was very popular with all. I knew that in the kitchen they discussed him constantly, especially the younger and more frivolous maids.

“He’s what you might call one of them charmers,” was Mrs. Penlock’s verdict. “You girls want to watch out with them sort. They can be all nice words and smiles till they get what they want from you girls … and then it’s ‘Goodbye, I’m off now to the next.’ But she herself was not immune. She would simper a little when he was near. He was full of good will and if he did cast a sparkling eye on the younger and prettier of the girls, he did not forget the older ones either. He would give the same sort of attention to Mrs. Penlock herself—who admitted to being in her sixties, but I was sure she had forgotten to add a few years for she had been at Cador when my mother was a girl and had not been exactly young then. He made everyone feel that there was something special about them which he found lovable. I supposed that was called charm.

I tried to discover what it was about him which had that effect on people. It was more than just his attitude towards them; he was the sort of man who wanted power and I came to the conclusion that that was the very essence of masculine attraction.

My mother talked to me about him.

“He seems to have a way of making himself known,” she said. “He has only been here a short time and he is making an impression.”

“There is something different about him,” I answered. “He’s unlike anyone else I know.”

My mother smiled. “He’s getting along with John Polstark and your father. They seem to think he will make a good estate manager.”

“What do you think Uncle Peter intends to do? Buy him an estate somewhere?”

“Probably … but for himself I should imagine. He’ll keep a firm hand on it and perhaps let Benedict manage it.”

“I shouldn’t think Ben would want that.”

“No. He’s like his grandfather, I daresay. He would want to have complete charge. It will be interesting to see what happens. They’re a strong-willed pair. By the way, Miss Gilmore is settling in well, I think. Don’t you?”

“She’s so grateful, it’s almost embarrassing.”

“Poor girl! I don’t know what she would have done if we hadn’t taken her in. She seemed pretty desperate. She has asked me for a day off.”

“A day off! So soon!”

“She’s got an old aunt who lives somewhere near Bodmin. She wants to go and see her and tell her that she’s settled and where she is and all that, I suppose.”

“I thought she hadn’t got any relations.”

“I don’t think she said that. Well, this is her father’s sister … and I daresay she is very old … as the father was. In any case I have said she may go.”

“Near Bodmin, you say?”

“She mentioned Lanivet.”

“That’s some little way.”

“She said she would be away one night and she was so grateful when I said that would be all right. I think she is going to be very useful. She’s made a very good job of that alpaca. You know I was very fond of that costume. I didn’t want to discard it, but the bottoms of the sleeves were so marked. She’s done something so that it doesn’t show. And she’s tightened up the skirt which was too loose. It almost looks like new. Dear old Semple was getting a little past it though she would never admit it. I don’t think she could see very well towards the end.”

“I think you are rather pleased with Miss Gilmore, Mama.”

“It is nice to be able to do a good turn to someone and find you’ve done yourself one too.”

“Is she getting on all right with the servants now?”

“I think they consider her something of an outsider.”