Chapter 2: An idea and some changes

Mary raced up the steps of the mansion, and reached the dining table, panting. The Cravens now sat together for all meals- those were Mr. Craven's orders, to eat together, just like a family, where everyone was loved and happy.

Colin was already there, his neat hair slicked back with gel, his collared shirt prim and proper and his eyes concentrating on the book he was reading.

"Put that book down, you wise owl. No books at the table, remember?" Mary teased.

Colin pretended to ignore her, frowning even more at the small print.

"Colin Craven, you are a bookworm!" Mary gently removed the book from Colin's hands and put it away. Just then Martha came in with their supper- it was good food, as usual. Mr. Craven entered, they said their prayer, and began to eat. Mary was starving, but Colin merely poked at his food.

"What's the matter, Colin, aren't you hungry?"

"Not really, father."

"Maybe it's because you didn't go outside today. Staying cooped up on a fine day like this ain't do your appetite any good.", Mary piped up.

"Hm, maybe I'll go out tomorrow. It's just that today I found a very interesting book of yours, father, about different types of rocks in the earth. Did you know some rocks can changeover time? They're called metamorphic rocks."

"I don't know, Colin, and I don't care," commented Mary.

"Maybe I could bring the book to the garden tomorrow, and we could dig in the earth and see if we find any of those rocks in my book."

Mary rolled her eyes and kept silent, and Mr. Craven just laughed at the two cousins.

After supper Martha came to clear the table.

"How's Greg, Martha?" Mary asked. Colin looked up too.

Greg was Martha's baby boy- he was just about to turn one- in a few weeks. Everyone was very excited, especially Martha.

"Aye, lil' Greg's fine, Miss Mary. Nice of you to ask about him. He's very happy living with my mother in the little cottage up the moor- always laughing and gurgling- he must've learnt to be such a cheerful lad from all my little brothers and sisters! I just love the way he gurgles. Ma's tryin to feed him up to be nice, round and fat. That's how a healthy children should Why, didn't you ask Dickon about him, since you see him everyday?"

At the mention of Dickon Mary smiled. "No Martha, um, I forgot. We were busy today in the garden."

Colin frowned. Mary always seemed so pleased to talk about Dickon- why, as if he was an angel of a sort!

"Tha can come see my Greg one day, if tha wishes," Martha rambled on, "Dickon can take tha and Colin there, why, my ol' Ma would be pleased to see you two young uns."

"Oh yes, Martha! That sounds marvelous! I'll ask Dickon to take me there."

"What about me?" Colin asked sulkily.

"You can come if you want, Colin. That is, if you're not reading your silly book on rocks or whatever not."

When Martha exited from the dining room, Mary suddenly had an idea.

"Why not we go to town and buy something for Mrs Sowerby and all the children? They'd be awfully pleased," Mary said. "Do you think we could go, uncle?"

"Why that's nice of you, Mary. Mrs Sowerby and her family have been very good to us, and we ought to reward them. Perhaps tomorrow? I'll ask Miss Dibbon to excuse you from lessons. Cook goes every Saturday to get the ingredients so you could go with her. You haven't been out for quite awhile." Mr Craven replied.

The mansion was a good way from town, and the children seldom went, only a few times for they spent most of their time at home, in the gardens or in the moor. In town were the train station, various homes, shops and schools.

"Why not you just pluck them some flowers, Mary? Like that you wouldn't have to go all the way out of the moor to town!" Colin commented while chewing.

Mary sighed. "Please, Colin! You can't just go and pluck any old flowers for them, they deserve something..more...special. You see, they live by the moor and see flowers everyday, and I don't think most of them get to visit town very often. Hence I think some gifts from town would make them happier. The kids would love it, I'm sure!"

"Alright. I am to go with you, is that right?"

"Yes, Colin, of course."

"If that's the case, you two would have to be ready to set off at eight in the morning. It's a long journey so please be on time. You know Cook isn't exactly the patient sort."

With that Mr Craven called Martha in and told her about the plans.

"Where's Mrs Medlock, father, I didn't see her today."

Mrs Medlock was their old housekeeper, who used to find Colin and Mary a nuisance at the start. Over time she grew more bearable, but still there were times when she did not get along with the children. They found her too strict and prim and proper, and she found them too wild and rambunctious.

"Well…children, I haven't exactly revealed this to you yet. You see, Mrs Medlock is…leaving. Retiring, to be exact."

At this Mary and Colin stopped eating and looked up. Mrs Medlock leaving? No one expected that!

"But why, Uncle? Is she weak? Tired? ..Tired of us?!"

"Don't be silly, my dear. She's just retiring due to her age. She's planning to move to Switzerland with her husband and stay with her cousin, in a cottage at the countryside. She is leaving next week. I didn't want to tell you too soon, in case you kids might find it hard to accept."

Both Mary and Colin didn't know how to feel. Yes, Mrs Medlock had been with them for years, especially for Colin, and he had some bad memories and experiences with of her when he was sick. Yet he was used to seeing her around, bustling around the house, here and there. Strangely, he thought, I'm going to miss her.

Mary was thinking. Thinking about how she disliked her when she first came, about how unreasonable she was. In fact, she was terrified of her. But, like Colin, she had grown used to her nagging and fussing and the house would have one bit missing with her gone.

"Who's going to take her place then, and become the housekeeper, father? Is it Martha?"

"No, it'll be one of the senior maids. Martha is still inexperienced. Maybe in a few years," he laughed.

"But someone else is coming," he added," a new young housemaid. I think you would like her."

"Who is she, uncle?" Mary asked, leaning over the table, till some of her hair was floating in the soup. But no one noticed.
"Her name is Kit Sowerby, and she is Martha's younger sister."