from his excursion in the fields they had dinner. Blanche slept peacefully afterwards and while Ollie returned to his easel Sarah got the three older children ready for Sunday school. Then, with Agnes and Blanche going along for the air, they set off for the church hall.
Ollie was still working when she returned, and while Agnes sat down to play with her doll she took Blanche – becoming restless back in the house – and laid her on a blanket in one corner of the room. To prevent her from straying she arranged a couple of chairs and a piece of wood to form a makeshift barrier.
Agnes grew tired after a while and Sarah put her upstairs in bed to sleep for a while. Then, with Blanche still crawling about behind the chair-fence, Sarah washed the dishes, tidied the room and put kettles of water on the range. When the water was hot she undressed herself and, standing in a wide tin bowl, washed herself fromtop to toe. When she was dry she went upstairs and put on her second-best dress – the one for Sundays – undid her hair, brushed it and re-plaited it and then coiled the heavy plait around the crown of her head and pinned it in place.
As she went back down the stairs a few minutes later she heard the sounds of the children returning from Sunday school. Looking out at the sky, she saw that dark clouds had gathered and rain was beginning to fall. The thought of any walk was out of the question now.
After tea Ollie went back to his painting while the children went to play quietly in the front parlour. When Blanche began to grow fretful Sarah took her up into her arms. The baby wouldn’t settle, though, and she was crying loudly when Ernest came in from the parlour to get one of his books. After listening to the baby’s crying for a moment or two he said, ‘She always becomes a misery at this time of a Sunday, doesn’t she? She wants to go back up to the house. She doesn’t like it here.’
Sarah was about to make some angry retort when Ollie appeared, paintbrush in hand. Looking down at the baby he said: ‘Isn’t it time you took her back to the house?’
Sarah looked at him over the head of the crying child. ‘She’s not going back anymore, Ollie. Marianne’s weaned now, and there’s no longer any need for us to go there.’
‘Oh – I see …’ He nodded, then gave a shrug and turned back into the scullery.
Half an hour later, when Sarah sat alone with the baby still crying in her arms Ollie came back into the kitchen and sat down.
‘Have you finished?’ Sarah asked.
He shook his head. ‘No, not yet.’
‘You taking a rest from it for a while … ?’
‘No. I reckon I’ll stop now.’
‘I thought you wanted to finish it today. The light’s still good enough, isn’t it?’ The rain had stopped now, the clouds had passed over and the sky was bright again.
‘Oh, yes, there’s nothing wrong with the light.’
There was a little silence, broken only by the fretful sounds of the child, then Sarah said, frowning, ‘It’s Blanche, isn’t it?’ She shook her head distractedly. ‘Oh, Ollie, I’m sorry. But she’ll be all right soon. I just don’t know why she keeps crying the way she does.’
He gave a little smile. ‘No? Perhaps it’s true what Ernest said – perhaps she’d rather be up at the house.’
As they sat there Blanche’s crying began to grow louder and more piercing, and after a while Ollie got up and went into the front parlour to join the children. Sarah remained sitting there with the crying baby in her arms.
Chapter Five
Marianne lay in her crib while Dr Kelsey bent over her. After examining the infant he straightened and turned to John Savill.
‘Well, she has no fever. I can’t see any obvious sign that she’s sickening for anything.’
Savill’s expression remained one of concern. He had arrived home after spending several days in London on business to find his daughter fretful, listless, and refusing to eat, and her nurse, Ellen Jessop, worried and at a loss
Ollie was still working when she returned, and while Agnes sat down to play with her doll she took Blanche – becoming restless back in the house – and laid her on a blanket in one corner of the room. To prevent her from straying she arranged a couple of chairs and a piece of wood to form a makeshift barrier.
Agnes grew tired after a while and Sarah put her upstairs in bed to sleep for a while. Then, with Blanche still crawling about behind the chair-fence, Sarah washed the dishes, tidied the room and put kettles of water on the range. When the water was hot she undressed herself and, standing in a wide tin bowl, washed herself fromtop to toe. When she was dry she went upstairs and put on her second-best dress – the one for Sundays – undid her hair, brushed it and re-plaited it and then coiled the heavy plait around the crown of her head and pinned it in place.
As she went back down the stairs a few minutes later she heard the sounds of the children returning from Sunday school. Looking out at the sky, she saw that dark clouds had gathered and rain was beginning to fall. The thought of any walk was out of the question now.
After tea Ollie went back to his painting while the children went to play quietly in the front parlour. When Blanche began to grow fretful Sarah took her up into her arms. The baby wouldn’t settle, though, and she was crying loudly when Ernest came in from the parlour to get one of his books. After listening to the baby’s crying for a moment or two he said, ‘She always becomes a misery at this time of a Sunday, doesn’t she? She wants to go back up to the house. She doesn’t like it here.’
Sarah was about to make some angry retort when Ollie appeared, paintbrush in hand. Looking down at the baby he said: ‘Isn’t it time you took her back to the house?’
Sarah looked at him over the head of the crying child. ‘She’s not going back anymore, Ollie. Marianne’s weaned now, and there’s no longer any need for us to go there.’
‘Oh – I see …’ He nodded, then gave a shrug and turned back into the scullery.
Half an hour later, when Sarah sat alone with the baby still crying in her arms Ollie came back into the kitchen and sat down.
‘Have you finished?’ Sarah asked.
He shook his head. ‘No, not yet.’
‘You taking a rest from it for a while … ?’
‘No. I reckon I’ll stop now.’
‘I thought you wanted to finish it today. The light’s still good enough, isn’t it?’ The rain had stopped now, the clouds had passed over and the sky was bright again.
‘Oh, yes, there’s nothing wrong with the light.’
There was a little silence, broken only by the fretful sounds of the child, then Sarah said, frowning, ‘It’s Blanche, isn’t it?’ She shook her head distractedly. ‘Oh, Ollie, I’m sorry. But she’ll be all right soon. I just don’t know why she keeps crying the way she does.’
He gave a little smile. ‘No? Perhaps it’s true what Ernest said – perhaps she’d rather be up at the house.’
As they sat there Blanche’s crying began to grow louder and more piercing, and after a while Ollie got up and went into the front parlour to join the children. Sarah remained sitting there with the crying baby in her arms.
Chapter Five
Marianne lay in her crib while Dr Kelsey bent over her. After examining the infant he straightened and turned to John Savill.
‘Well, she has no fever. I can’t see any obvious sign that she’s sickening for anything.’
Savill’s expression remained one of concern. He had arrived home after spending several days in London on business to find his daughter fretful, listless, and refusing to eat, and her nurse, Ellen Jessop, worried and at a loss
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