XX
July 1920
Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
A chuid den tsaol, 's a ghrá liom
Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
Agus gheobhair feirín amárach
Tom's light tenor lulled Sybbie to sleep. He delicately kissed her forehead and, even more quietly, continued until he was sure she was asleep in her cot.
Tá an samhradh ag teacht le grian is le teas
Agus duilliúr ghlas ar phrátaí
Tá an ghaoth ag teacht go fial aneas
Agus gheobhaimid iasc amárach
It was a quiet time. Nurse Todd had the afternoon off so Florence carried baby Elinor into the adjoining room attached to the day nursery changing and dressing her after Mary finished the early afternoon feeding. George had torn out of his room earlier after being informed by Matthew that he could tag along with Robert and himself as they explored the progress being made to renovations at the stable. Mary had seen them off with George clapping about seeing the "hoshies."
She kissed Matthew's cheek and said, "I'll meet you there. I'm just going to visit with Sybil."
"See you then, darling," he said and reached out to take Robert's upper arm. His father in law had George securely in his other arm's grasp. "We're off!" Robert cried out, designed to make George squeal even louder.
Turning the corner towards the day nursery, Mary thought about how happy she was to see Matthew and her father finally becoming, if not comfortable, then at least less ill at ease around each other. She knew Matthew liked making his own way around the estate but whenever George was with him, he always accepted help.
Mary and Sybil sat across the nursery, whispering in the window seat.
And now, listening to Tom sweetly sing the lullaby, she felt such a warm glow of familial love. Was she becoming soft? If so, who cared. It was wonderful.
"What do the words mean?" Mary queried.
"Something like "'Close your eyes, my love…my worldly joy, my treasure' and then something about being given a present on the morrow." Sybil paused then continued, "'the summer shines bright and warm and potato stalks grow greener'…ummm… 'a bracing breeze blows from the south and we will have deer tomorrow…?'"
Sybil's face crinkled into a thoughtful frown. "I'm not sure about that last part…"
Tom approached the Crawley sisters. He smiled as he tenderly corrected his wife. "Fish, mo stór. We'll have fish tomorrow. 'Iasc' means fish."
Sybil took her husband's outstretched hand and bobbed her head. "That's it. Yes of course."
They all carefully exited the nursery to not disturb the sleeping six-month-old.
As they walked towards the red staircase, Sybil said "Tom taught me some of the Gaelic so I could sing Sybbie to sleep but he does a much better job. It's something his mother sang to him and his brothers and sisters when they were all young."
Tom gave a wistful shake of his head. "One of the few happy memories I have of my family. Most of us went to work either in domestic service or in a factory so young we were hardly together in the house. Especially after Pa died in that electric fire at the biscuit factory."
Mary knew very little about Tom's upbringing. He kept it private and she and Matthew had respected his wishes.
Sybil squeezed her husband's hand. "That's why it was so good of your brother and sister to come over for the christening."
"Kieran can be a bit puffed up and swaggering." Tom rolled his eyes. "He likes to bully me about swanning about with my 'betters' but he's family. Aileen kept him on his best behaviour."
Mary now knew that Aileen was his younger sister who had married her childhood sweetheart at seventeen. A strong, but kind hearted woman Mary had liked her immediately.
"Having her here was a nice surprise as she's got the five little ones at home." They were a hard-working farming family and her husband couldn't take the time to join his wife in England. His war widowed sister had agreed to visit and help out while Aileen made the trip to Yorkshire. After the ceremony at St. Catherine's the two siblings had stayed only one day longer before going their separate ways. Kieran back to Liverpool and Aileen to her village of Rathcoole.
Kieran had tried to persuade Tom that there were good jobs to be had in a bigger city like Liverpool, but Tom firmly responded in the negative.
Mary had found the elder brother quite abrasive in the same way she had earlier found Tom. They had the right to be, she knew. The Irish had never been treated well in England and most certainly not by the aristocracy. Robert bristled naturally. But she and Matthew had tried to be accommodating and, with Aileen and Sybil's skillfully guiding conversations away from topics of controversy, they had all managed to get through the few days without incident.
"I'm off now as I told Matthew I'd meet him at the stable to walk back with George and then drive him into Ripon so he can drop off some documents at the office."
Carson was standing at the front door awaiting her departure.
Sybil embraced Mary. "We're going to the Hall later. Gwen has said she's found some space she thinks perfect for a dispensary and nursing station."
"That's wonderful news. I know Matthew's very keen on your idea."
Tom agreed. "Having to ferry the men back and forth to the village hospital just isn't enough. It would be best to have someone on staff to see to their needs."
"We'll see you all later then," Mary waved and exited the house.
XX
"Mummeeummeemummee!" George saw his mother enter the stable and then shoved against Robert's shoulder thrashing around to be let down.
Robert at first struggled to hold onto the toddler then turned and saw Mary. With an indulgent smile he carefully set down his little grandson.
George toddled over to his mother, in his rush his cap fell off his head and his little wellies made his gait wobbly.
But he made it. "Up, UP" he demanded, flinging his arms and stomping his feet. His mouth set in a determined pout and his big blue eyes gazing in adoration at his mother.
Mary knew her old nanny would say children must be taught discipline. But really, how could she resist? She gathered him up in her arms and snuggled her face next to his. "Georgie," she said as she gave his cheek a big kiss.
Robert picked up George's tweed cap and smacked some hay stalks off against his trousers and followed his daughter and grandson over to where Mary allowed George to gently pat one of the new thoroughbreds they had acquired late last year.
Midnight was a young horse with an old soul. Mary fell in love with him immediately. He took to her reins at the hunt in the fall with ease and they rode as one over the rolling hills of Derbyshire. She hadn't been on the horse since with Elinor's pregnancy and birth.
Now she was more than eager to get back before the summer waned. After the Sports Day events at the Hall planned for the week end, she was going to start riding every morning again after Matthew left for Ripon but before she had to get down to the accounts with her father. He liked to linger over the papers in the morning and so she waited for him to finish before tackling any of the retrenchment issues for the house and estate.
"We'll be finding him his own real pony before long." Robert beamed as he watched George giggle madly as he pet the horse, his little fingers disappearing into Midnight's luscious silky mane.
"I can't wait."
"Swheet hoshie…" George said, his lisp noticeable as he mimicked his mummy's voice as he heard her call out to the animal.
"Where has Matthew gotten too?" She glanced around the stable but didn't see her husband.
Robert pointed vaguely towards the back of the stable. "He's cornered Alden to give him all the details about the repairs to the damp that's rotted out all the stalls towards the paddock."
Mary had to smile. She knew Matthew would get down to business first, then spend time with Mary and George later. He always liked to get the worse bits out of the way as he said. Then relax.
She shifted her son to get a better grip on his little body as pulled away to get closer to the horse. She didn't want to let him down afraid he'd topple over onto the cobblestones.
Robert pushed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. "He's got some notion of starting up a balage scheme here."
Mary knew this was the time for her to bat for Matthew's vision. "Finding winter feed for horses is always difficult. I think it sounds like a good idea."
Her papa's shoulders heaved up and down, almost in defeat. "We never were reduced to anything of the kind it in my father's time."
Mary knew the true cause of her father's opposition lay in being seen as a failure in the eyes of his peers. Matthew railed against the Harry Stokes of the world as charlatans. But Robert, typical of his generation, would rather been seen reaping financial windfalls through the apparent effortlessness of gods than through the grubby world of work and commerce.
The way to break down her papa's barriers was to make it clear he wasn't betraying his class.
So she artfully slipped in the comment, "Bertie's done something similar at Brancaster. I suspect they conspired when we were last at Strallan Hall. They were thick as thieves after dinner while I accompanied Edith to take little Anthony to bed."
She got her father's attention, so she continued. "We both know that neither man enjoys partaking of sherry and cigars, but they remained in that dining room for almost an hour. Eventually we had to call in the butler."
Robert fell for it, just as Mary anticipated. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Bertie, eh? He's done well for himself after Peter made him estate agent. Maybe there is something to it."
Mary turned away as her mouth curved into an amused smile. "Perhaps there is."
Just then Matthew appeared with the stable manager. She heard his stick scrap the cobblestones.
"Matthew. There you are."
George tried to fling himself out his mother's arms "Dadda." But Mary kept him close. If he barreled over to Matthew unaware, he might make his father lose his balance and they'd both topple to the hard floor.
He looked up and smiled as he walked towards the sound of his wife and son's voices. "Georgie my boy."
Mary met him, reaching out her hand to his shoulder.
"Are you ready?" Matthew asked. "I told Mr. Harvill I'd have those titles transfers to him by the time he met with his client." His clerking supervisor had allowed him to work from home the few days before the Sports Day events as he was needed at the Hall for last minute organizational meetings.
Robert waved at his daughter. "You go ahead. I'm going to stay with Alden. The vet's been called for Hector. He's got the colic."
Mary nodded and the three of them turned back towards the house.
"You owe me a kiss, you know." Mary said as she handed George over to his father. He was already getting sleepy and slumped against Matthew's shoulder.
He cocked an eyebrow. "I'll never miss an opportunity for that. But why this particular moment?"
"I convinced Papa to go ahead with your balage idea."
"Excellent. How?"
"Oh. You know," she said lightheartedly. "Just my amazing powers of persuasion."
Matthew laughed and then stopped, reaching out with his hand to feel for his wife's shoulder then neck then her cheek.
She turned to meet her mouth to his. Warm, sweet, passionate. The pressure of his lips on hers always making her skin tingle most delightfully.
"Thank you darling." He said, reluctantly letting go. He shifted George to a better position. The toddler was now entirely asleep. "Let's get him back upstairs and we can get going."
XX
Matthew heard the gravel under his feet and knew he was still on the path towards the Hall. He needed to change into his cricket whites. Lang would be there with his knitted vest, white shirt and trousers. He had just finished sparring with Joseph in their fencing demonstration and was going to use one of the showers installed in one of the spare dormitory rooms.
Having en suite wash rooms and toilets installed at the Hall had been an expense hotly debated between members of the Swire Board of Trustees. The gentlemen he had asked to join the Trust in 1919 had been either self-made men of the City of London, knowledgeable on economic matters or local aristocrats who came on Robert's recommendations and thus was a part of his desire to include his father in law in certain decision making.
But Matthew did not know them and they did not know him. Matthew had needed their monetary support for the Hall as he could not finance the entirety of the facility on his own. He knew he put them ill at ease with his own blindness. In those early days of initial construction Matthew had been on his own insisting that they expend extra money to completely modernize Hall facilities. The other men had snickered with a tinge of condescension and claimed that even boys at Eton had to share lavatories.
Matthew had set his jaw in what he knew his mother called his mulish look. He needed to get through to them. It was essential they understood. "Doing this will give each resident a sense of, not just independence, but privacy," he had said, leaning forward for emphasis, balancing his fingertips on the table top. "Their lives have been torn asunder. Helpless. Having to rely on others to do everything for them. We want to bring them back to independence. To have them to return as contributing individuals in the lives of their communities."
He paused for that to sink in and then continued. "That is the goal of Sir Arthur Pearson the founder of St. Dunstan's, and that gentlemen, is hard enough. In addition to recovering from the injuries sustained in service to King and country remember, they have to learn everything all over again. To walk on their own. To eat. To wash. To communicate. To earn money. To smoke a bloody cigarette for God's sake. So if we can give them a few luxuries like their own toilets to make that process just a bit easier I want to do so."
Matthew had gotten his way. The money had been allocated and he was now making use of one of the rooms; showering, holding onto one of the installed handrails, to steady him during his ablutions.
Once he stepped out and dried off, he felt for the cricket clothes Lang had left. He put them on and opened the door to the resident's room with a bed, set of dresser drawers, and a desk.
Lang greeted him, "Sir. I've got your plimsolls here."
"Thank you, Lang."
Matthew sat down on the chair near the desk and put on the spiked shoes. He had his doubts about whether he'd be any good at cricket, but he was willing to give it a go. They had all been on the field the day before, each man being given a chance at the pitch. He hadn't hit a single ball. Listening closely for the sound of the ball coming towards him, he just never got the coordination right.
Maybe today would be better.
The foil demonstration with Joseph had gone well. He always enjoyed the precision involved in fencing. The synchronicity as they advanced across the grid; the clash of the blades as one parried the other's attack. Mary had said everyone was caught up in their presentation. Joseph was very pleased with the results. A few of the more reluctant new residents had already come up to him asking for lessons.
Mary had then left to join his mother and some of the other guests at the tea tent.
He was eager to get back to her so once he was kitted out, he thanked Lang and started to leave. He stopped, asking Lang "are you ready for your own participation in Sports Day?"
Lang had his own demons to chase after the war. Matthew was glad he had accepted the invitation to participate in the cricket ball throwing contest. In order to have some equality it was open to sighted and non-sighted and Lang had told Matthew that in his youth he had played cricket at school. His mother's butler at Crawley House, Joseph Molesley was also participating.
"I've been warming up all morning, Mr. Crawley. I intend to do the house proud."
"Good man," Matthew proclaimed. "I'll be over later." He held out his hand for Lang to hand him his stick.
"Good luck with the cricket."
Matthew waved a good-bye and felt with his cane for the door frame. He opened the door and left, turning right down the hallway towards the exit.
He heard another voice coming from behind him.
"Matthew."
A friendly male voice, he couldn't quite place. He turned, a bit confused.
The quizzical look must have cued the other man as he added, "Richard Grey here, sorry."
Recognition dawned. "Richard, yes. How do you do." He held out his hand.
The two men shook.
"Mr. Sanderling has been giving me the tour. Quite an establishment you have here. Something of which to be proud."
Matthew smiled. He was still getting used to his mother having a suitor but was not opposed to the idea of it. They had been very close growing up, but now he had a wife, a family. It was time his mother had companionship.
"We're doing good work, I hope. Helping them get back on their feet." He accepted the compliment modestly.
Merton followed Matthew outside and onto the gravel walkway towards the Sports Day field. The older man, unsure about how much help he should give Matthew, allowed Isobel's son to guide him in the correct behaviour.
They fell into an easy side by side gait.
"As I understand it, you have a two-fold operation. Getting them used to their new situation and finding them active and useful employment."
Matthew listened intently and was impressed how easily Merton grasped this concept. It had taken months of discussion with the early board members to get them to accept it wasn't good enough to just retrain the men to walk or read. For their full recovery, they needed to get back to their regular life as quickly as possible.
He snapped his fingers excitedly and said, "that's it precisely. They've been ignored or smothered at home, they feel like so much flotsam, useless debris no one needs. We need to first take them out of that and show them the skills needed to live as blinded. Once there, they can either go back to the profession they had before, or find them jobs in trade or whatever."
"We've got some unused cottages at Cavenham Park. I could take at least two or three families who might be interested in farming. Also Mr. Sanderling said you had apprentice farmhands in pigs and poultry. I'm sure our farm agent could find some jobs there as well."
"That would be marvelous, Richard. Thank you."
Matthew realized this man was just what Mary said. Kind hearted yet pragmatic. He felt very satisfied his mother had found a good man.
The two men finished the walk and Merton left Matthew after being called away by Robert on an issue related to the distance between the bowler and the batsman. The two men were to be the referees and needed to confer on the adjusted rules related to blind cricket.
Matthew, after being told by Merton that he was in front of the tea tent, went inside in search of his wife.
XX
Mary carefully studied Matthew walking down the gravel path towards the Hall with Lord Merton. The two seemed to be in earnest conversation which she took as a good sign. She wanted Matthew to give her godfather a chance to show he was an honourable man who made a good match for his mother.
As long as they all kept their distance from his disagreeable children.
She had just finished watching Tom's team prevail in the tug of war. Sybil had remained with Tom while Mary headed over to the tent to see the rest of her family. Along the way she met up with Matthew's mother.
Isobel, beside Mary, watched as well. Not wanting to appear nervous, she did want her son to like Dickie. Never in her life had she expected to find love again. Not the same of course as the love she had for Reginald. They had built a life together. Raised their beautiful son. His death had been devastating. But Matthew had been right to insist she move with him to Downton when he became Grantham's heir. To leave Manchester wasn't to leave her past for she took her memories of their life with her. But it did mean she was open to new experiences in ways she had not expected. The war, unfortunately, giving her charitable work immediate purpose and meaning.
Matthew didn't need her anymore. And that was a good thing. He had found his own way in the world.
They had ever been two against the world.
At thirteen, his blindness had thrown him into a funk of resentment for years. The recovery at 26 he had taken as a gift. She feared it coloured his judgments. He lost perspective as he indulged in acquiring things and moving in circles far beyond what they were used to and he resented her reminding him that he'd most probably lose his eyesight again, saying that he was finally living the life he imagined for himself.
Which only made her concerns grow.
Then the doubts about him choosing the haughty daughter of the nobility over a sweet girl of his own station, especially as he had asked Lavinia first. She accepted his argument that he had to choose what he called undying love over doing the dutiful thing. He could not live his life without Mary and, in letting her go, hoping it meant that Lavinia would find that kind of love for herself. She also knew her son well enough to realize that even as he tried to hide it, he was wracked with guilt.
Unfortunately, his sense of guilt was only exacerbated by Lavinia's untimely death. She wondered if he'd recover as he tended to wallow in self-pity at such moments. But he did. He asked Mary to marry him and they quickly became parents of her rambunctious grandson.
And now after getting to know Mary she'd be the first to admit she had been wrong to question Matthew's decision of a wife. Mary may still be very much of her class and station, but she was also devoted to Matthew. When his blindness returned, she just got on with their life together. Had refused to let anyone doubt her ability to handle it. And in so doing, had allowed Matthew to recover from being knocked for six by the reoccurrence of what he had thought of as the blight of his existence. When she had first visited, he had the same morose outlook and biting sarcasm of his younger years. But slowly, through Mary's love and George's needs he had come around. Realized his own affliction was nothing compared to that of those who returned from the war. That it was selfish to the point of indulgence to resent his life when he could make something of it instead.
She was so proud of his accomplishments. The Swire Trust. Downton Hall. His clerkship as a solicitor. Husband. Father.
Her son.
Her Matthew had found his life. So now it was time to live her own to the fullest. And she was fast becoming sure that Dickie Merton was that future.
These thoughts both comforted and excited her. To think at her age, she could start on a new adventure.
"Matthew's approval won't come easy." Isobel observed. "It looks like he's practicing interrogation techniques."
Mary glanced over to see Matthew's head cocked to listen intently to something Merton was saying and after nodding vigorously he stuck his hand out and snapped his fingers and impatiently responded.
"They do seem deep in conversation. I'm sure he'll like him once he gets to know him. Matthew's very reasonable." Mary exchanged looks with Isobel. "But really," Mary shrugged insouciantly, "do you need his endorsement? It's your life."
Isobel approved of her daughter in law's shrewd remark. "You are quite right of course. But just as he didn't need my sanction to marry you, he wanted it anyway. I admit I was hesitant to give it. You came from a world that looks right past my son and pretend he's invisible. Your balls, your racing, your frivolous social calendar. I worried that though he could see, he was blinded by his passion."
Mary pinched her lips. She knew Isobel had misgivings. Had she done enough to convince her?
Isobel took her daughter in law's hand. "But I was wrong. Your love strengthened him. You make a fine pair."
Mary smiled. "And Matthew will see the same thing in you and Dickie. I know he will."
They clasped hands, let go, and made their way towards the tent sent up for tea and cakes. Mary looked in and espied her grandmother. They took seats next to Violet Crawley and Edith.
"Bertie has been called away to help out with the cricket throwing," Edith informed her sister. "He's like an excitable little boy."
"They all are today," Mary answered. "I know Sybil wanted to get involved but Dr. Clarkson said it was too soon after the birth."
They looked at each other and laughed in unison, "next year for sure!"
"I'm having a luncheon next week," Granny announced. "You and Lord Merton are hereby invited." She had taken in the scene and intended to personally encourage the budding romance between Isobel and Merton. She hated drama that happened off stage. And as the two matriarchs, they should get to know each other better.
"That would be delightful."
Just then a high pitch wail broke the sedate atmosphere of the tent compelling all three women to turn to see what could possibly have occurred to warrant a sound like a German shell screeching above a trench.
It was only Rose being Rose. Matthew had entered the tent and Rose made a dash over with a squeal, taking his arm and immediately chatting up a storm about how handsome he looked in his cricket whites. It caused everyone to start and stare in the tent.
Mary observed it all with a wry grin. She turned back and calmly finished her tea before standing up to greet her husband.
Rose was rather obsessed with Matthew it was true. But it was just an innocent thing. She was excitable by nature and Matthew enjoyed her companionship. He never had a sister, he told Mary, and Rose was very much like one. She confessed to him her youthful dreams and he tried to be like a not too stuffy older brother in tempering her worst impulses.
Plus, she was one of the very few people outside his immediate family who never treated him as an invalid about his blindness.
She just got on with bossing him about. Just like now. Demanding she be allowed to cheer him on during the cricket match.
"No one else will dare. But I'll clap and shout every time you're at bat."
Matthew laughed. "Will you moan as loud when I'm declared out?"
"It will be devastating." Rose managed to sound breathless with disappointment at that potential outcome.
Matthew chuckled to himself and then got to the point. "I'm in search of Mary. Is she in the tent?"
Rose saw Mary stand up at the sound of Matthew's question. She waved and started to walk over to meet them in the middle of the tent.
"Here she is now." Rose waved and clapped her gloved hands. The two women embraced and then Rose exclaimed with bated breath, "Mary, Mary. I'm so happy to see you again. You look simply divvy. I'm dying to see George. And the new little one. I hear she's an absolute angel."
"Thank you Rose. Elinor is sleeping and George is having his lunch. We're going to get him now so he can watch the games."
"I can't wait to hug and squeeze him.," Rose exclaimed. "I'll wait with Aunt Violet, then. She's calling me over."
"You go," Matthew said. "And we'll be back before you know it."
He reached out to take his wife's arm and the left the tent.
"She is quite exhausting." Matthew spoke quietly towards his wife's ear. "But I can't help but get caught up in her excitement."
"She's a dear, it's true." Mary stopped to turn her husband's collar back into its proper position against his knitted vest. "And she is quite correct you know."
"About what?"
"You are devastatingly handsome in your whites."
Matthew, making her point even more clearly, blushed a deep red. "Darling…"
They kissed. He felt the rim of her hat against his forehead and he ducked under it just in time to meet her lips.
"I really haven't played cricket at all. We didn't have much time to practice. I'm sure I'll drop the ball. You won't laugh when that happens, promise."
"Of course not. You can always count on me."
Matthew loved the sound of his wife's intimate voice. The one she used only with him.
"I didn't think it possible to love as much as I love you."
Mary touched his cheek as a single tear rolled down. "You're going to make me cry as well, my darling. What a pair we are."
They lingered under the privacy of a sprawling cedar tree to kiss again.
"Let's go get George. He's been talking up a storm about 'crichet' ever since I gave him that ball to play around with."
Matthew gripped his wife's shoulder and they made their way back towards the house.
XX
Mary knew her husband was pleased with himself. He had managed to strike the ball. At his time at the pitch he heard the bowler shout "play" and he shifted his weight and made contact precisely when he heard the rattle of the ball bearings hurtling down onto his position. He moved forward, intercepting the ball while protecting the wicket as he didn't hear any crunching sound.
The ball was caught on the bounce and he was out but it hadn't mattered.
"Joseph modified the rule about the bounce but it only makes sense. Next time I'll score some runs."
Mary patted his knee indulgently. "We were all very proud. You heard Georgie?"
Matthew grinned ear to ear. "Yes." His little boy's screech had echoed across the pitch.
"He wanted to go chase after the ball, but Mama held him tight."
"Your papa will have him playing for the house in no time."
They were seated on the stone wall where they had first interacted and where was sure he had fallen in love. George had been taken back to the house by Cora and Isobel and they were alone.
Upon first arriving, Matthew took a handkerchief out of his right pocket and placed it down just as he had almost four years previous. He gestured towards Mary.
"Sit?" Asking the same question. His eyes bright and cheeky.
"Of course." Mary knew what he was doing. "Should I say something rude and haughty?"
"You do have to be yourself…"
Mary gave him a playful swat then sat down beside him.
She put her head on his shoulder. He leaned in and kissed her head, her scent floral and intoxicating.
"We've got such the good life, my darling."
Mary understood what it had taken to get Matthew to this point in his life. And she had to agree.
"I wouldn't change a single thing."
They shared a kiss and spent more than a few minutes sitting quietly, listening to a lark sing a sweet song in the distance.
XX
😊 I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I loved writing it. I love reading all your comments and reviews. I've tried to be as faithful to the time period for the blinded as possible. There will be a couple of epilogues (Like GoT tonight… I won't spoil anything lol)… one in 1923 and another in 1925. I've used several books for this story –the most important being the memoirs of the amazing real people who founded St. Dunstan's Sir Arthur Pearson and Lord (Ian) Fraser who took over in 1921 upon Pearson's tragic death.