tiled washstand with
pink-embroidered towels and patterned china, and a wooden chair
with a carved back. Amy had never lived in a house with any sort of
wallpaper at all, let alone such beautiful paper as this room had,
intricately patterned with a design of birds and flowers. The chaise longue , something Amy had heard of but never before
seen, was upholstered in a fabric similar in pattern to the
wallpaper.
‘Sarah, you mustn’t give me your room!’ she
said when she had recovered her voice.
‘My room?’ Sarah looked startled, then she
laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Amy, this isn’t my bedroom. Mine’s a good
deal larger—yes, such a thing is possible, don’t look so doubtful.
I’ll show it to you later. No, dear, this room is all yours.’
She turned to the maid, who was unpacking
Amy’s meagre luggage and hanging the dresses in a wardrobe.
‘Nellie, you can finish Mrs Stewart’s things later, thank you.’
The maid bobbed a curtsy and left the room,
and Sarah turned her attention back to Amy.
‘Now, there are a few things here you won’t
be quite familiar with. The electric light, for one. Here, let me
show you.’ She demonstrated how pulling on a cord made the light
come on, while a second pull made it go off again. When Sarah told
Amy to try it for herself she stared in fascination at the light
that flicked on, off, on, off in obedience to a sharp tug, until
Sarah prised her fingers gently from the cord.
‘That’s enough for now. You’ll wear out the
bulb if you play with it like that—no, don’t worry,’ she said,
forestalling Amy’s guilty apology. ‘I remember playing with the
light myself for hours when we first had it put in.
‘The bathroom is down the passage,’ Sarah
went on. ‘I’ll show it to you in a moment, though there’s no need
for a tour of the entire house just yet. You’ve your own washstand,
of course, and if you need any hot water—or anything at all, come
to that—just pull this rope, and one of the maids will come.’
Her gaze travelled the room, clearly
searching for anything else that might be unfamiliar to Amy. ‘Oh,
yes,’ she said when her eyes lighted on what appeared to be a
small, wooden cabinet. ‘I’m sure you won’t have seen one of these
before. If you’re inconvenienced in the night, there’s no need for
you to brave the passage in your nightgown.’ She lifted the top of
the cabinet to reveal a porcelain bowl of unmistakable shape.
‘Oh, it’s a chamber pot!’ Amy said, amazed
to see such a thing appearing in a cupboard.
‘It’s called a commode. Use it as you need.
The maid will empty it.’
‘There’s no need—’
‘The maid,’ Sarah cut in firmly, ‘will empty
it. Now, let’s go and see the bathroom.’
Amy had heard of bathrooms, but found it
difficult to imagine so much space devoted to the purpose of
washing oneself. She followed Sarah into a room dominated by an
enamelled cast iron bath.
‘What a beautiful thing!’ she exclaimed. She
crouched in front of the bath to examine it more closely, and found
its supports were moulded into the shape of lion paws. ‘And it’s so
big,’ she said, awed by the thought of how much water would have to
be carried up the stairs to fill such a huge tub. A bath every week
would seem a dreadful extravagance. Then she noticed the metal
pipes resting on the edge.
‘You’ve got running water! Can I try it out?
Oh, not if it’s a bother,’ she added hastily.
Sarah smiled indulgently. ‘Try it as much as
you like, as long as you don’t flood the bathroom. I expect you’ll
want a bath this evening, after that dreadful boat. I’ll tell the
maids.’
‘No, I had a bath on Saturday,’ Amy assured
her. She looked up from trying out the fascinating tap, and saw a
smile fluttering on Sarah’s lips; there was a brief, barely
perceptible struggle, then the smile won.
‘I usually have a bath a little more often
than once a week, Amy,’ Sarah said gently. ‘I do understand
pink-embroidered towels and patterned china, and a wooden chair
with a carved back. Amy had never lived in a house with any sort of
wallpaper at all, let alone such beautiful paper as this room had,
intricately patterned with a design of birds and flowers. The chaise longue , something Amy had heard of but never before
seen, was upholstered in a fabric similar in pattern to the
wallpaper.
‘Sarah, you mustn’t give me your room!’ she
said when she had recovered her voice.
‘My room?’ Sarah looked startled, then she
laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Amy, this isn’t my bedroom. Mine’s a good
deal larger—yes, such a thing is possible, don’t look so doubtful.
I’ll show it to you later. No, dear, this room is all yours.’
She turned to the maid, who was unpacking
Amy’s meagre luggage and hanging the dresses in a wardrobe.
‘Nellie, you can finish Mrs Stewart’s things later, thank you.’
The maid bobbed a curtsy and left the room,
and Sarah turned her attention back to Amy.
‘Now, there are a few things here you won’t
be quite familiar with. The electric light, for one. Here, let me
show you.’ She demonstrated how pulling on a cord made the light
come on, while a second pull made it go off again. When Sarah told
Amy to try it for herself she stared in fascination at the light
that flicked on, off, on, off in obedience to a sharp tug, until
Sarah prised her fingers gently from the cord.
‘That’s enough for now. You’ll wear out the
bulb if you play with it like that—no, don’t worry,’ she said,
forestalling Amy’s guilty apology. ‘I remember playing with the
light myself for hours when we first had it put in.
‘The bathroom is down the passage,’ Sarah
went on. ‘I’ll show it to you in a moment, though there’s no need
for a tour of the entire house just yet. You’ve your own washstand,
of course, and if you need any hot water—or anything at all, come
to that—just pull this rope, and one of the maids will come.’
Her gaze travelled the room, clearly
searching for anything else that might be unfamiliar to Amy. ‘Oh,
yes,’ she said when her eyes lighted on what appeared to be a
small, wooden cabinet. ‘I’m sure you won’t have seen one of these
before. If you’re inconvenienced in the night, there’s no need for
you to brave the passage in your nightgown.’ She lifted the top of
the cabinet to reveal a porcelain bowl of unmistakable shape.
‘Oh, it’s a chamber pot!’ Amy said, amazed
to see such a thing appearing in a cupboard.
‘It’s called a commode. Use it as you need.
The maid will empty it.’
‘There’s no need—’
‘The maid,’ Sarah cut in firmly, ‘will empty
it. Now, let’s go and see the bathroom.’
Amy had heard of bathrooms, but found it
difficult to imagine so much space devoted to the purpose of
washing oneself. She followed Sarah into a room dominated by an
enamelled cast iron bath.
‘What a beautiful thing!’ she exclaimed. She
crouched in front of the bath to examine it more closely, and found
its supports were moulded into the shape of lion paws. ‘And it’s so
big,’ she said, awed by the thought of how much water would have to
be carried up the stairs to fill such a huge tub. A bath every week
would seem a dreadful extravagance. Then she noticed the metal
pipes resting on the edge.
‘You’ve got running water! Can I try it out?
Oh, not if it’s a bother,’ she added hastily.
Sarah smiled indulgently. ‘Try it as much as
you like, as long as you don’t flood the bathroom. I expect you’ll
want a bath this evening, after that dreadful boat. I’ll tell the
maids.’
‘No, I had a bath on Saturday,’ Amy assured
her. She looked up from trying out the fascinating tap, and saw a
smile fluttering on Sarah’s lips; there was a brief, barely
perceptible struggle, then the smile won.
‘I usually have a bath a little more often
than once a week, Amy,’ Sarah said gently. ‘I do understand
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