Very little happened at the Drewes' farm during the next few weeks while summer was slowly beginning to turn into autumn. Except that Mrs Drewe's suspicion that she might be expecting a new baby was changed into a certainty.

The only difference after Lady Grantham's visit was that Mrs Drewe now had two of the Ladies from the big house coming to her cottage regularly to play with little Alice. She was now visited by both the girl's mother and her grandmother. They never came at the same time. It seemed that the older woman knew when her daughter wasn't expected and choose those times for her own visits.

Mrs Drewe was used to Lady Edith by now, and had no difficulties getting on with her work while Edith was there. After a couple of visits she learned to accept Lady Grantham's presence in the same way. She politely asked Lady Grantham if she wanted a cup of coffee, which Cora invariably said no to. After that Mrs Drewe handed the baby over to Lady Grantham and then she got on with her own work.

Because there was a lot of work to attend to in a household with six children. There was the cooking of course, and the baking. The cleaning and the washing up. The mending and the washing of all the clothes. The little vegetable garden around the house to take care of. The hens and chickens to feed.

And, last but not least, feeding the Drewe's own two pigs.

Mrs Drewe couldn't afford to sit down doing nothing for very long, but she still didn't envy the Crawley women. With nothing much to do they must be bored stiff. And the situation they were in now, with the secret child and grandchild born out of wedlock, was certainly nothing to envy. She could see that they both loved Alice very much, that they wanted to be able to spend much more time with her, but also that they were both at a loss what to do about it.

Mrs Drewe was rather content with her life. She loved children, especially babies, and she had been blessed with quite a lot of them even though she hadn't married until she was nearly thirty. She would be forty-three when this new one was born, so she was fairly sure it would be her last one. So she decided to enjoy it as best she could, her pregnancies were usually easy.

...

Cora had known about Alice for some time now, but she still hadn't decided what to say to Edith. She had visited the Drewes several times, and grown to love her smallest grandchild more and more. She was sure Mrs Drewe loved Alice and was taking good care of her, although one could think she had enough with all her own children. Edith had made a good choice, except that little Alice couldn't be hidden at the estate for much longer before the truth would inevitably come out.

Cora hesitated to talk to Edith about Alice, because she could see no way out of Edith's dilemma. She wanted Edith to be able to keep Alice, she wanted herself to be able to see her granddaughter. But she didn't want a scandal.

So she just didn't do anything at all about it, hoping sooner or later to come up with a plan. Taking Edith and Alice to the States, perhaps?

Robert asked Cora once why she had started to take so many long walks. It wasn't really like her. But she just said something about the weather being so fine lately and that she enjoyed walking in the sun. The weather had really been unusually sunny, so she hoped he wouldn't suspect anything.

But the next time she wanted to visit Alice it was raining. She had to take an umbrella.

...

Edith needed more facts about pigs if she was to finish her article. But she had no idea where to get them.

But two days later she saw an advertisement in the paper. The pig-of-the-year exhibition was to be held a couple of weeks later. It was quite a bit away, but hopefully she could persuade Tim Drewe to go there with her. They could go in his lorry and bring Alice with them. Tim could drive and Alice could sit in Edith's lap. They would have a chance to spend the whole day together.

Then Edith could write about the exhibition and perhaps get an interview with the winner.

Or rather with the winner's owner, she thought with a smile. The winner himself would probably only grunt.

...

Argyll thought that Sir Anthony's idea of taking part in the pig-of-the-year competition was brilliant. He was of course paid to find Sir Anthony's ideas brilliant, or at least not utterly stupid, but this seemed genuine. He at once started talking about which of the pigs was most likely to stand a chance in the competitions.

All the grown-up pigs, the breeding-pigs, had names. There was no Empress of Locksley now, though there generally was one in each pig-generation. There was no Mr Brumble either, Sir Anthony had promoted his biggest hog to Sir Brumble.

...

"I'm sure it is only chicken-pox", Mrs Drewe said, being a little embarrassed to have the doctor come all the long way. "But I'm a little worried for the baby."

Dr Clarkson took a look at the Drewe's two youngest children. Yes, unmistakably. Chicken-pox.

"Where is the baby then?" he asked after washing his hands.

"Out in the kitchen. I put her cot there, to protect her...But..."

Clarkson took a good look at the little girl. There was something about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was as if he had seen the little girl before, somewhere. But he was sure that little Sarah was the last of the Drewe's children he had helped deliver.

"How old is she?" he asked.

"Seven months."

"I'm sure she will be alright", Dr Clarkson said. "In fact, I'm sure she has already been infected, it is very contagious." He took a closer look under the child's frock, and there it was, just beneath the armpit, the tiniest little chicken-pox. That was the only one he could discover on her entire body.

He showed it to the mother. "They get it very mildly when they are as little as this. The older they are, the worse it becomes. It is worst for grownups, especially for men."

"Lucky that I and my husband have already had it when we were children then. And that the three older ones had it before these two were born. There's another thing, though. I'm pregnant. Can it be dangerous for the child?"

"No, not if you have already had it yourself."

...

"I can't seem to remember delivering this little one", Doctor Clarkson said with a frown before he left. "Or am I just getting old and forgetful?"

"No, you are right, you haven't delivered her", Mrs Drewe said with a rather nervous smile. "She is a foster child. The child of a deceased friend of my husband's. From another county."

"Ah, I see. That explains it", Clarkson said thoughtfully.

There was something suspicious about the child though. He was sure he recognised the little girl from somewhere. And why was the woman being so nervous about it all?

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for all the kind and interesting reviews!