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ambitious young men who want to topple him and take his place. Be very sure you are right before you accuse him of anything. It will ruin him, and you cannot undo that by withdrawing the charge afterwards."

"I'm trying to save him, Aunt Vespasia!" Pitt responded fervently. "I simply don't know how to!"

She turned away, staring at the gilt-edged mirror on the far wall, its beveled glass reflecting the leaves of the birch trees twisting and flickering in the slight wind outside.

"Perhaps you can't," she replied so softly he barely heard her. "He may love this Egyptian woman enough to have been complicit in her crime. Do what you have to, Thomas, but please do it as gently as you can."

"I will," he promised, wondering how on earth he would.

CHAPTER THREE

AFTER HER INDOOR DUTIES were completed, Gracie set out on her errands of the morning. It was a bright, mild day with only the slightest breeze, and she enjoyed walking, even in new boots. These were excellent ones, with black buttons, and heels that for the first time in her life made her over five feet tall.

She went briskly along Keppel Street and Store Street into the Tottenham Court Road, where she stopped at the fishmonger's and picked out some succulent-looking kippers, nice and fat, with a rich, smoky color. She did not trust the boy who brought them around on a barrow; he tended to stretch the truth a little regarding their freshness.

She had just come out onto the pavement again and was about to turn south towards the greengrocer's to get some plums, when she saw her friend Tilda Garvie, who was maid in a household a short distance away in Torrington Square. Tilda was a nice-looking girl, an inch or two taller than Gracie and a good deal plumper, which still left her becomingly slender. Usually she had a cheerfulness about her which made her agreeable company. However, today she walked past the flower girl without even a glance. Her face was set in lines of anxiety, and she seemed to be looking around her absentmindedly, as if not truly seeing what was there.

"Tilda!" Gracie called out.

Tilda stopped, swung to face Gracie and on recognizing her, her expression flooded with relief. She nearly bumped into a large woman with a shopping basket balanced on her hip and dragging an unwilling child with the other hand.

"Gracie!" Tilda gasped, just avoiding being mown down by the woman and not bothering to apologize for cutting across her path. "I'm so glad ter see you!"

"Wot's the matter?" Gracie asked, moving closer to the inside of the footpath and pulling Tilda out of the way. "Yer look like yer lost summink. D'yer drop yer purse?" It was the first and most natural thought. She had done that herself and still remembered the horror of it. That was nearly six shillings gone-a week's worth of food.

Tilda dismissed it with a shake of her head so slight it was barely a comment at all. "Can I talk to yer for a moment... please, Gracie? I'm that worried I dunno wot ter do. I was 'opin' I'd see yer. Ter be honest, that's why I come this way."

Gracie's concern was instant. All sorts of domestic possibilities flashed through her mind. The house in which Tilda worked was quite a large one, and there were several other servants. The first, most obvious troubles would be accusations of theft or one of the male staff's making improper demands. Gracie had never feared either of those herself, but she knew very well that it could happen. Worse still, of course, was the master of the house, making demands. Refusal and acceptance were both fraught with pitfalls. To be caught, and dismissed without a character reference, was only the lightest. One could easily be with child as well! Or accused by the mistress of all manner of wrongdoing.

Simple squabbles with other maids, lost trinkets, badly done jobs, the mistress's favorite ornament broken or dress scorched, were so simple as to be almost welcome.

"Wot's 'appened?" she said earnestly. " 'Ere, we've got time fer a cup o' tea. There's a place jus' 'round the corner. Come an' sit down an' tell me."

"I i'nt got money fer a cup o' tea right now." Tilda stood motionless on the pavement. "An' I think as it'd choke me any'ow."

Gracie began to appreciate that whatever troubled her, it was of a very serious order. "Can I 'elp?" she said simply. "Mrs. Pitt is

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