Tm sorry, Miss Mary,’ she said, hurriedly, ‘but you'll need to get the breakfast this morning for yourself and Master John. Your uncle’s been summoned to Sam Hartley’s place — t’ new baby’s arrived, and like to die, and they want t’ poor mite baptized before it goes. Bess Hartley’s mortal bad, too, they say, and Sam’s carrying on like one demented, cursing Arkwright and swearing vengeance, and upsetting poor Bess and t’ little ones. They asked for me to go with t’ Reverend, for they know as I stand no nonsense; happen Sam might listen to me, and calm down a bit.’ Mary sat upright in bed, fully awake at this news. ‘Do you suppose I could do anything — or my cousin?’ Mrs. Duckworth shook her head. ‘Nay, lass. You’ve to go to your lessons presently; and as for Master John, t’ least said to him, t’ best, I’m thinking. You know what he is, and Sam needs firm handling, not sympathy, just now, by all accounts.’ She quickly explained what was needed in the kitchen, then hurried from the room.
