Feathers in the Fire by Catherine Cookson Page A

Mistress, not since dinner time, when she couldn’t have nothin’ to eat.’
    ‘Oh, but she was here well after that. It’s now close on seven. I’m worried; she seemed upset . . . ’ She did not go on and say, ‘The fact of you being whipped upset her; she did not do as her father bade her but witnessed the scene through the back of the barn,’ but added, ‘We’d better look for her. We’ll take the cow path to the burn, she may be there. You can run down; she is often at the burn because the foal is near.’
    Molly dried her hands, then turned from the sink and said, ‘Master’s back, Mistress.’
    ‘Oh, I didn’t hear him. Is he in his office?’
    ‘Yes, Mistress, but Davie’s with him.’
    ‘Oh!’ Delia looked at the girl and thought she understood. It would be Davie. Of course it would. She had seen them together. But she was very disappointed in Davie; if he had come forward he could have saved this poor creature from being flayed; she had thought better of Winnie’s son. She liked Winnie, she considered her a fine woman, in her place of course, and she had at times envied her her son, for she considered Davie an intelligent boy, worth perhaps something more than the position of second cowman. But she was sure that her husband recognised this and would bear it in mind for his future. She had said as much to Winnie. But now the boy had come out of this situation without any honour; he would get a severe rating from Angus, that was sure, and serve him right, but once they were settled, Angus, fair man that he was, would no doubt see to building them a cottage of their own. Some time ago he had talked of renovating the old malt house. The foundations and part of the structure were still good; it was a picturesque place and a shame that it should be given over to the occasional stabling of a mare and foal. He had seemed very keen on the idea. That was some time ago; he had not mentioned it for months past. But now it would likely come to his mind again. It would make a most superior dwelling, fit for a bailiff, or in his case foreman. And why not? If Davie behaved himself from now on he could in time rise to that position, for Angus had talked more than once of engaging an intelligent man to act as a kind of manager, so that he himself could have more time to devote to other things, which, she had thought indulgently, included hunting and fishing. Last year he had been invited by Sir Alfred Tuppin to his Scottish estate to indulge in the latter sport when the salmon season was on. It was at that time he had talked about employing a capable manager.
    But now she was sure everything would work out both for Molly and Davie, and the household, for Molly, being trained under Winnie, would take over when Winnie was too old to carry on, and outside Davie, she was sure, in spite of his lapse, would run the farm in the interests of his master.
    They went out, not together, Molly walking a foot or so behind her mistress, as was right, and Delia spoke to her over her shoulder. ‘I’m seriously thinking of sending Miss Jane to Madame Lovell’s private school in Hexham,’ she said.
    ‘Oh, aye, Mistress.’ There was little interest in Molly’s response.
    ‘She is too old for the day school now, and it is not advanced
    enough in its teaching. The master agrees that she should attend Madam Lovell’s.’
    Again Molly said, ‘Oh, aye, Mistress.’
    ‘She will learn French and music, although she is quite good at the pianoforte now.’ She paused, then ended, ‘I thought I might like her at home to help with the . . . the baby, but the master is arranging to have a nurse. She will attend me as long as is necessary.’
    When Molly did not answer she turned her head slightly and looked at the girl. Her face was sweating; there were beads of perspiration running from her hairline and down over her plump cheeks. She wanted to reassure her and say, ‘Don’t worry, everything is all right, the master will see that