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precipitous. We thought that, as a bachelor, Brisbane was in need of some feminine assistance in ordering his household. We did not realise you and the Misses Allenby were in residence.”
    Lady Allenby spread her hands. The joints were thick and swollen, but still elegant, and on her left hand she wore a thick band of gold, braided with baroque pearls and old-fashioned, lumpy rubies.
    “My dear lady, you must not think Ailith and I will be in your way, and Hilda is positively useless at domestic matters. We are simply guests of Mr. Brisbane’s while he kindly oversees the refurbishment of one of the outbuildings for our use. He has been exceedingly generous to us. There was no provision under the terms of the sale of Grimsgrave Hall for my daughters or myself. What he does for us is solely out of his own sense of charity.”
    As there seemed no possible response to this, I did not attempt one.
    While I finished my toast, I darted glances at Ailith, attempting to make out her character. I realised that in spite of her remarkable beauty, Ailith Allenby’s life had likely not been an easy one. I felt ashamed of my first impulse to dislike her, and determined to make an effort to befriend her.
    I smiled at her briefly, then turned to her mother. “I do hope you are quite recovered, Lady Allenby. Miss Allenby told us last night you were suffering from a rheumatism.”
    “The last year has been a trial,” she said softly. “My rheumatism is grown much worse now. My hands, my hips. Some days I can scarcely rise from my bed. Still,” she said forcefully, “we are given no trials over which we cannot triumph with the aid of the Divine.” She touched the chain at her belt, and I realised it was a rosary. I suppressed a sigh. Between Lady Allenby’s devoutness and Mrs. Butters’ fondness for Holy Scripture, I feared I would find their company a trifle tedious. My father had once famously stated in Parliament that religion was as intimate as lovemaking and ought to be as private. The thought was not original to him, but it reflected his views quite accurately. While we had attended church, it was seldom with any true regularity, and God was seldom discussed in our family except in a very distant sort of way, rather like our cousins in Canada.
    Lady Allenby lifted a crooked hand to her daughter. “Ailith, dearest, I find I am in need of St. Hildegarde’s ointment.” Lady Allenby turned to me. “We are fortunate at Grimsgrave to have a Gypsy woman who lives in a cottage out on the moor. She is a skilful healer and a most interesting woman. Perhaps you would care to make her acquaintance?”
    “I will go this morning and fetch more ointment,” Ailith said. “If Lady Julia would care to accompany me, she would be most welcome.” She darted a quick, birdlike glance at me from under her dark gold lashes. She spooned out some fruit for her mother and broke a piece of toast into manageable bits. “You must keep up your strength, Mama,” she murmured.
    Lady Allenby gave her daughter a fond look. “Thank you, child. Yes, I will eat it all, I promise.”
    They made a game of it, with Ailith filling her plate slowlywith tempting morsels, and Lady Allenby finishing it a bit at a time until she had at last eaten a full breakfast. She managed quite well so long as she used both hands to steady her utensils. Ailith herself had merely nibbled a piece of dry toast, and I wondered if she cared for her mother at the expense of herself.
    After I finished the last of the rather excellent fruit compote, we excused ourselves, and I went to look in on Portia. She was still slumbering peacefully, one arm thrown over her face as she slept. I did not bother to pause at Val’s door; I could hear the snores reverberating through it well enough. The maids were making their way down to breakfast, Morag muttering all the while about the laxness of some establishments that did not even provide morning tea. I might have pointed out the laxness of