“Oh, yes, my dear. That will be just the thing.” Louisa beamed.

Less than half an hour later Rebecca found herself ushered into her favourite chair and a footstool placed before her feet, and Louisa then settled herself down and looked at her eagerly, waiting for all the news.

“Hetty and Charles send their love,” said Rebecca, sipping at her cup of chocolate, “and they have sent some presents for you.” She put down her cup and went into the corner of the room, where the box Hetty had given her had been tucked away by Collins the coachman when he had unpacked the coach.

Rebecca picked it up and carried it over to Louisa, putting it down in front of her.

“Oh, how kind!” said Louisa, as she began to open it, unfastening the straps that had been buckled around it to keep it safely closed.

“I managed to carry out all your commissions,” said Rebecca as Louisa threw back the lid. “I hope you like the things I bought for you.”

On top of the box were the lengths of material Louisa had asked for, consisting of a length of brown woollen cloth, a length of dove grey silk and a length of olive muslin.

“Just the thing,” said Louisa, taking each length of fabric out in turn. “My old gowns are growing decidedly shabby.” She looked down at the faded gown she was wearing, made of a drab silk. It was rather old-fashioned, and lacked any of the ribbons and flounces that were now a la mode. “It will do me good to have something new to wear.”

And then came various gifts that Louisa had not expected: a Cashmere shawl, a new bonnet and a pair of the softest kid boots, together with half a dozen lace handkerchiefs and a bottle of lavender water.

“Oh, how kind!” said Louisa again, much touched.

There were several more presents in the box, including one of Hetty's cook's excellent fruit cakes and a bottle of Madeira. Then, when the last item had been exclaimed over, Rebecca set down her cup in its porcelain saucer and began to tell Louisa all about her visit to London. She told her about the reading of Jebadiah's will, and then told her about the shopping, the visits to the museums, and the afternoon at Frost Fair.

The only things she did not mention were those that affected Joshua. She told Louisa that she had seen him, that he was well and that he sent his love — for he had known Louisa in his childhood as she and her parents had lived with Jebadiah for a while. But she said nothing about the uncontrolled horse and the stone that had narrowly missed hitting him when he had been taking dinner at Hetty and Charles's house. Louisa was of a somewhat nervous disposition and the less she had to worry her, the better.

“Freezewater Street!” exclaimed Louisa, as Rebecca told her of the name that had been given to the Thames. And then, as Rebecca told her all about the stalls and booths, the jugglers and the skating, she clasped her hands together and said, “Oh! I wish I could have been there!”

“As soon as you are well enough to travel, you must pay Hetty and Charles a visit. They would love to have you, and asked me to say so particularly.”

“Oh, my dear! They are so kind. And it does all sound so wonderful.” Louisa gave a sigh. “I must confess I have been lonely on my own, cooped up here day after day with nothing to do, and the weather so gloomy, and no one to speak to,” she said.

Rebecca put her hand out to Louisa. “I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to go away and leave you for so long.”

As if realizing that she had made Rebecca feel guilty, when nothing had been further from her mind, Louisa immediately contradicted herself, saying shamelessly, “Nonsense! You have hardly been gone at all. I have had a wonderful time whilst you have been away. Why, I was only saying to Betsy the other day — Betsy being the general servant — what a nice change it has been to be on my own for a while. Such a tonic for my nerves. I do declare that you did me a very great favour, Rebecca, by going away. And I have had so much to do that I have never been bored for an instant! I have been reading and sewing, and if the weather has been bad outside, why, it has only made me appreciate how snug and cosy I have been inside. And if you do not believe me, you may ask Betsy, for she can vouch for it all.”

Rebecca leaned across and gave Louisa a kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, my dear,” said Louisa, flustered but nevertheless pleased, “What on earth was that for?”

“Oh, for nothing,” said Rebecca, thinking how lucky she was to have such a lovely cousin. Then, settling herself back in her chair she said, “Even so, I am sure you would enjoy a holiday, especially as the new pills are doing you good, and I have a suggestion to make.”

She had been thinking it over in the coach on the journey from London and now she had made up her mind. “As you know, Grandfather left me half of Marsden mill, and I mean to take an active interest in it. I could do so from here, but it would mean a lot of travelling, and with the weather being uncertain that is not a good idea. So I have decided to take a house in Manchester for the next few months.”

“Manchester?” Louisa's face broke into a smile. “It would be the very thing. There are the shops — not so grand as London, but still, there are some very pretty things to be had along Deansgate and in the Exchange Hall. And then there will be Mrs Emily Camberwell to visit, and her sister, Mrs Camilla Renwick.” Emily and Camilla had been at the same seminary as Louisa in their younger days, and the three had remained friends. “And of course, best of all, we will be near to our own dear Joshua, who is now in Manchester to take care of the mill! It will be so wonderful to see him again.”

That was the one thing against the idea, to Rebecca's way of thinking, for she was under no illusions as to the strength of her attraction to Joshua and knew that meeting him would be difficult. Nevertheless, as they were partners in the mill it was something that could not be avoided.

“You like the idea?” she asked.

Louisa smiled. “Of course I do. I think it's a splendid idea.”

“Then it is settled.”

“Emily and Camilla will help us find a house, I am sure,” said Louisa thoughtfully.

“Good. As soon as it can be arranged we will move to town.” She yawned.

“Oh, my dear, you must be tired,” said Louisa sympathetically.

“I am,” Rebecca admitted.

“I will tell Betsy to serve dinner at once. And then you must have an early night.”

*  *  *

Whilst the arrangements for the move to Manchester were being made, Rebecca had time to enjoy being at home again, at least for a short while. The weather continued cold. Fortunately it was not quite as bad as it had been earlier in the year, but still, she and Louisa did not get out much: there was in truth very little for two spinster ladies to do in a modest house in the Cheshire countryside in the middle of winter. The shops and concerts of Manchester, however, would provide a pleasant distraction.

“I hope we have remembered everything,” said Louisa, as at last the carriage was packed and they were off.

“I'm sure we have,” said Rebecca. “The rented house is furnished, and we have already sent the linen and china up to town with Betsy. And besides, if we have forgotten anything, we can always send Betsy back for it.”

“Yes, my dear, you are right,” said Louisa. “I am so pleased we have brought a few personal touches with us. They will make the place feel more homely. I am looking forward to hanging Grandfather's portrait in the drawing-room.” She settled herself back against the squabs and stretched her legs out in front of her.

“Have you enough room?” asked Rebecca.

“Plenty,” said Louisa. Her face suddenly lit up. “Oh, Rebecca, I am so excited! I can't remember the last time I had any fun!”

Rebecca was delighted to see Louisa's enthusiasm. Her cousin had had a dull winter, made worse by problems with her joints, and was in need of some entertainment. Besides, a round of parties and shopping would take Louisa's mind off the aches and pains her pills had not been able to alleviate.

“Then we will make the most of it,” said Rebecca. “I will have to spend some of my time at the mill, but for the rest of the time we will enjoy ourselves.”

Louisa sighed. “Jebadiah would be pleased. He always loved Manchester. It is where he began his life, and he remained a Northern lad to the end!”

The countryside rolled past the window, with only a small pocket of snow left here and there to show what a hard winter it had been. The grass was green and verdant, and looked as fresh as if it had been new-washed. Above it was a clear, cold sky.

As they drew nearer the city the scenery changed. Meadows and a rushing river gave way to streets and buildings, some fine, others squalid. The recent expansion of the city had brought both good and bad in its wake. Good, because the manufacturing industries had brought work and wealth to the city; bad because it had also brought poverty, for the mill hands could only work when there was work to be had, and in these times of unrest there were often periods of enforced idleness when the war with France or trouble with the Luddites brought mills to a standstill.

But still Rebecca felt her interest quickening. This was where her grandfather had laid the foundations of his fortune, and she felt a connection to the city.

The coach began to move more slowly as the streets became busier. Smart shops now lined the sides of the roads, and fashionable people strolled along the pavements. Gentlemen raised their hats to greet friends or acquaintances and ladies, followed by footmen balancing columns of hat boxes, disappeared into modiste's. Young children with their nursemaids skipped along, taking some exercise. Brewers' carts rolled past, drawn by plodding cart horses. Hackney carriages went by; and in front of them assorted carts and carriages made their way forward in a bustle of noise and confusion.