Quincy had known this ever since Imogen fell into the terrible dark sleep and she had known that she could not leave her, although for some time she had not known how this could be prevented. In the end she had simply asked point-blank to return to Thornacre, knocking on Matron Porter’s door, and standing in front of Matron’s desk to make the request. It had taken every shred of courage she possessed, but she had managed it. ‘Please let me go with Imogen to Thornacre,’ she had said, and had stared at Matron and refused to look away, and she had seen Porter-Pig’s mean little eyes narrow. Porter-Pig did not like her, but she was weighing up the advantages of having her as unpaid servant in Thornacre. Quincy had said, very loudly, ‘If you don’t let me go, I’ll simply walk out. I’ll beg lifts on the road until I get there.’ And then Matron had said, slowly, ‘Why of course you shall come with us to Thornacre if you want to,’ and Quincy had seen the gleam of calculation in her eyes, and known she was doing the right thing.
