Many thanks to all who have taken the time to read and review. Your kind remarks are much appreciated.

Dedicated to those who, like Harry Gregson, found themselves supporting their families at an early age.

Chapter 11: Miss Galindo Attunes to the Times

He had thought his news would please her. They had enjoyed a better harvest than expected this year, thus improving Hanbury Court's financial situation, at least temporarily, and as a result there was less urgency to secure positions for staff who were no longer vital to the running of the estate. He therefore had told her that there was less correspondence to conduct, and as a result she'd have fewer hours at the office and more time to fulfill commissions for her own business in Cranford.

He thought she'd be delighted to relinquish a few burdens, remembering how difficult she'd found it to fulfill her duties at Hanbury and then complete all her work in time for the May Day observances the past spring.

But now, in the autumn, she had stood before him wearing an expression somewhere between hurt and confusion. "You are not happy with my work here, Mr. Carter?"

"I did not say that, Miss Galindo. You have borne a considerable burden over these past months, for which my lady is most grateful – as am I," he added, with a nod and a slight smile. "But it is time we relieved you of some of that, is it not? You'll be coming to Hanbury less often, and for shorter periods of time, and thus can attend to your own affairs. Surely that must please you."

She saw how it was. If anything, Mr. Carter's duties around the estate had increased since his full recovery; he was out and about Hanbury most of the day, and only spoke to her briefly and distractedly -- that is, when he was not conferring with Lady Ludlow. Perhaps this meant permanent change for Hanbury, an alteration in the way the estate was run, and perhaps Mr. Carter saw his opportunity to order his office the way that suited him – which must, of necessity, see her removed from the position he had never asked her to fill.

What hurt the most was the pretense that any changes were made to please her. After all that had passed between them, she'd have thought he'd not hesitate to make blunt pronouncements. If he'd at least said openly that Lady Ludlow had approved the training of another clerk – Anthony, for instance, or perhaps even Harry, though she very much doubted her ladyship would countenance that -- she would have understood him. But this feigned kindness was more than she could bear.

By late in the day she was so distracted by this turn of events that she walked halfway home before she remembered that she'd left several items of correspondence behind on her desk. Well, there was nothing for it; she'd have to return to the office at Hanbury, and immediately.

By the time she had retraced her steps, the light was growing dim. She opened the office door and gave a startled gasp. Someone was sitting at one of the desks.

Harry Gregson jumped to his feet and looked back at her, fully as rattled as she was.

"Harry! What are you doing here, and at this hour?"

"It's all right, Miss. My work is all done. And I scraped my boots off first, too, before I came in. See?" said Harry, holding up one foot for her inspection.

Miss Galindo suppressed a desire to laugh. "Harry, that is not what I meant. I am asking how you came to be in the office at all."

Harry looked uncomfortable. "Mr. Carter said it was all right. I come here sometimes to talk to him, you see, and read." He held up the book. "Look what he brought back from London, Miss."

"Aesop's Fables. That is a fine thing, Harry. Are you enjoying it?"

"Oh, yes, Miss, and I love the pictures, too. Look at this lion. Have you ever seen a real one?"

"No, Harry, only statues. You'd have to go to a zoo, wouldn't you, or perhaps abroad, to see a real lion."

"I'd like to do that someday." Harry put the book down on the desk. "Miss Galindo –"

"Yes, Harry?"

"You won't tell anyone I was here, will you? I don't want Mr. Carter to get in trouble."

"Harry, Mr. Carter is not in trouble, and neither are you, and you do not need to worry about me."

The door suddenly opened, both of them jumped, and Miss Galindo gave another little gasp.

But this time it was only Anthony Beckett standing in the doorway. He looked from one pair of guilty eyes to the other.

"Excuse me, Miss. I was just looking for Mr. Carter."

"I have not seen him, Anthony – well, not since earlier today," she said wincing a little at the thought at what had transpired then.

"Well, I expect he'll be here shortly." Anthony looked toward Harry, gave him a wink, and then turned back to Miss Galindo. "Oh, and don't worry, Miss. I know about the arrangement."

"What arrangement?"

Anthony turned pale. "Oh, Miss, I thought –"

"And I still know nothing about it." She smiled, a little wickedly. "I hope you are better at keeping secrets from Lady Ludlow than you are from me, Anthony," she said. "And with that, I bid you good evening."

"Good evening, Miss."

"Good evening, Miss."

"I don't understand, Mr. Carter. If ava- -- ava- --"

"'Avarice,' Harry."

"If avarice is a sin, does that mean it's bad to want money?"

"No, Harry, it isn't a sin to want money, as long as it comes to you in honorable ways – such as by working, for instance. And ambition is not a sin either, for that matter."

"What's ambition, Mr. Carter?"

"Wanting to better yourself. Wanting to achieve something, create something, do some important work. Those are all good things. Now pride and greed and envy – that's where we stumble."

The door to the office suddenly flew open. Mr. Carter automatically rose to his feet, a little stiffly, and Harry followed suit.

But it was not Lady Ludlow on an unexpected visit.

"Miss Galindo! What are you doing here at this hour?"

"I am sorry to disturb you, Mr. Carter; that was not my intent. I merely came to collect some papers I had left behind." She had again walked halfway home before realizing that the correspondence she needed was still lying on her desk.

"Very well." Carter suddenly realized that if he was startled to see her, she did not seem in the least astonished to find him and Harry both in the office.

Harry spoke up, as if reading his thoughts. "It's all right, Mr. Carter. She knows."

"You mean 'Miss Galindo' knows, Harry," said Mr. Carter.

"Yes, sir. That's what I was telling you."

"Oh, never mind, Harry. I'll explain later." He turned back to Miss Galindo, who was gathering up papers from her desk. "Miss Galindo, you cannot mean to walk home alone, through the woods, no less, when night has already fallen."

"Really, Mr. Carter, this is Cranford, not London. I am hardly likely to be carried off by brigands."

"I am not concerned by what is likely, but what is appropriate. Beckett!"

"Sir?" Anthony Beckett appeared from the hallway.

"There's a gig outside, Beckett. Can you drive?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I want you to take Miss Galindo safely home, then come back here."

"Really, Mr. Carter, I do not want to have Anthony sent all the way into town and back again. "

"I am not going to discuss this any further, Miss Galindo, and I am not sending you off into the darkness without an escort. Come along." He picked up his walking stick and led the way to the door.

"Good night, Miss," called Harry from the desk.

"Good night, Harry," said Miss Galindo over her shoulder, as she disappeared from his view.

Outside Mr. Carter was walking briskly towards the gig.

"Mr. Carter." He stopped and turned around. "Mr. Carter." She dropped her voice. "You need not worry that I will reveal anything to Lady Ludlow about – well, about Harry's lessons. Surely you do not believe I would." She had tilted her face up to his and was standing very near to him in the darkness.

"No, I do not believe you would, though I suspect you don't approve."

"Mr. Carter, it is not for me to approve or disapprove of the decisions you take. I only worry that this will all end in tears. Harry has been put to work in the cowshed, with the promise that he might hold that position all of his life, and you show him glimpses of another world, something far beyond the manual labor he faces daily. It seems almost cruel to place that prospect before him when he --"

"And so you think I should just leave Harry to his hours of backbreaking labor, and being the support of his family, when he is but 11 years old and has no inkling of the opportunities that might open to him if he had an education? Do not speak to me of cruelty, Miss Galindo, or of the confines of class or education. I would say you are in no position to judge either."

"That is most unfair, Mr. Carter, most unfair, and spoken in ignorance." She was fairly trembling with rage. "But I will not waste your valuable time in defending myself against that judgment. I must go home, and you must return to your pupil." And she spun around and proceeded towards the gig. Beckett had already climbed up and was waiting to assist her.

Mr. Carter kept up with her and when they reached the gig, he made an instantaneous decision and threw his walking stick to the ground. "Give me your hand, Miss Galindo." Taking her hand firmly in his, he placed his other hand at her waist to guide her upwards, and with Beckett's help she climbed onto the gig.

Even in the darkness Mr. Carter could see her expression. She was not over her pique.

"Good night, Miss Galindo, and thank you." She made no reply to him, and Anthony said, "I'll return directly, Mr. Carter."

"Good man, Beckett." And they drove off, leaving him standing in the darkness.

"Anthony, you are not used to driving the gig, are you?"

"I learn quickly, Miss. Besides, haven't I seen it done a thousand times?"

Miss Galindo tightened her grip on the seat, and Beckett grinned. "Don't worry, Miss. You're safe enough with me." He felt a little of the tension dissolve between them. Besides, it was Mr. Carter she was angry with, not him, though he wasn't sure why. Their voices had been too low for him to catch any of the conversation.

"It's the millinery shop, isn't it, Miss?"

"Why, yes, it is, Anthony. How did you know that?"

"Mr. Carter spoke of it when we were coming back from London."

"Oh, he did, did he? Most surprising. He doesn't think much of how I earn my daily bread."

"He said you had a business of your own."

"Indeed."

"You serve Lady Ludlow, and have your own business besides. That's a lot of work."

"Well, I soon shall have some respite, as Mr. Carter, though perhaps not Lady Ludlow, requires my services less than before."

"Yes, Mr. Carter's fully recovered," said Anthony happily. "But he has so much to do still. Maybe he'll change his mind about how much he needs you."

"That's doubtful. I expect to spend less time at Hanbury, not more."

Now was the time. "Miss, if you are going to be in town more, I wondered if I might ask a favor."

This was most unexpected. "A favor, Anthony? What do you mean?"

"Miss, I was wondering if you could show me how to cast accounts, how to write in a fine hand, what's involved in the running of a shop. I'd like you to teach me what to do, like Mr. Carter teaches Harry. I have a little money saved, you see, and I could pay –"

"I don't want your money, Anthony," she said, more harshly than she had intended. He kept to a chastened silence for some minutes, and she added, more softly, "What I mean is that if I instructed you, I'd only accept payment in kind – tasks performed in the maintenance of the shop, for instance, or errands run, or perhaps some other duties. There is no need for us to speak of money."

"I wanted this to be proper, Miss. I didn't want charity."

"I'm not offering charity." I'm not offering much of anything, she thought.

"Does that mean you'll do it, Miss? Does that mean we can start soon? This Sunday?"

She sighed. "I'm going to have to think about this for a day or two, Anthony." She hesitated, not wanting to say what had crossed her mind, but there was nothing else for it. "One thing you must understand is that if you come to visit my shop, regardless of the reason, it will not remain a secret. This is Cranford, Anthony, and if you so much as make a pot of tea, within five minutes someone will be reporting that fact, what sort of tea it was, and whether the water took especially long to boil. This is a village, not the city. We have nothing else to do but to work and discuss each other's business."

Anthony smiled. "But I quite like it here, Miss. And as for the gossiping -- well, Miss, you can trust me."

"I know I can trust you." She was surprised at how quickly she'd agreed with him. Oh, he was a bit of a scamp, but there was surely no harm in him. "But what I cannot do is control anyone else. Lady Ludlow, for instance, will surely discover what you are about, and have words with me, and a dismissal for you. Did you not think of that?"

"Oh, Miss, I'm not a fool. And I know something else." He let her curiosity build for a moment before continuing. "I can see that there are fewer and fewer servants at Hanbury. Lady Ludlow's not taking people on; she's sending them away. It's a miracle I still have my place. Mr. Carter doesn't need me anymore, not really, and has to struggle to find work for me to do."

"Such as driving me back to Cranford." A fresh wave of anger came over her, but she decided to pursue another equally uncomfortable subject. "Did you not think to have Mr. Carter train you up as his clerk?"

Anthony actually laughed. "Oh, Miss, you can't mean that. Mr. Carter is a good man, and I like him very much, but I want to be my own master, and choose my own teacher, for that matter. And Mr. Carter's got other things to think about, too." He remembered something else. "Miss, I know it's a lot to ask of you, that you teach me, but if there's any way I could ever help afterwards, I promise you –"

"You don't need to make any promises for now, Anthony. There's still a lot I need to consider. But I will give you my answer shortly."

"Thank you, Miss. I am grateful."

They had reached the streets of Cranford now, and Miss Galindo directed him to the spot where her shop and rooms lay. Anthony stopped the gig, leaped down, and offered her his hand as she descended. She had fairly spent the evening being passed on and off this vehicle, she thought, with the assistance of Mr. Carter and Mr. Beckett.

"I am sorry Mr. Carter put you to the trouble of bringing me back, but I thank you," she said, and smiled for what seemed like the first time in hours.

"It was no trouble at all, Miss." He smiled back at her. They understood each other; he could see that.

She said, after a pause, "I don't suppose you know how to stitch caps."

He grinned. "As I said, Miss, I learn quickly."

Miss Galindo lay in bed, waiting for sleep to overtake her, and reflected over the events of the past few hours. Anthony Beckett's request had very much taken her by surprise, and yet it all seemed of a piece with what had transpired that evening.

She saw how things were. Mr. Carter had proceeded with Harry's education, whether Lady Ludlow had consented or not, and used his office as a classroom. When Miss Galindo had walked in, he and Harry had been companionably seated across from one another, with Aesop's Fables open on the table before them, and the remains of a simple supper scattered about.

Ambition is not a sin.

Even Harry understood what they were doing must remain secret, though he probably didn't realize what it might mean. An 11-year-old knew suffering only in the simplest ways – a blow from his father, a scolding from his mother – and could not possibly see what future stretched before him, what doors might be shut to him once he'd grown to manhood and there was no friendly mentor at his side.

Still, Miss Galindo had to admit there was something very wrong in that. She thought of how Lady Ludlow conducted interviews, intoning the name of the hapless person before her, as though she were the Lord God at the Last Judgment. And she informed her listeners what would become of them, too – offering a position to Harry Gregson, refusing one to young Margaret Gidman, on the grounds that the girl was "fit only for trade."

By what right did she make such decisions? By her rank, by her power, by her will. But was there some moral underpinning to any of that? Miss Galindo was no longer certain.

Well, if her ladyship was unafraid to exercise such power as remained to a woman, perhaps it was time that she did the same, after a fashion. She would help Anthony, and if trouble arose in so doing, she would deal with that as it came.

And as for Mr. Carter, within but a few hours he had as good as declared her superfluous to the running of the estate, and provided ample evidence that he neither trusted her judgment nor relied on her discretion. He had taken Anthony into his confidence, but not herself, after all. Yes, she saw how things stood.

And the tears at last ran down her face, ceasing only when she drifted off into sleep.

To be continued...