The Sweeping Saga Collection: Poppy’s Dilemma, The Dressmaker’s Daughter, The Factory Girl. Nancy Carson

what they say. But I expect you knew that already.’ Esther lifted Poppy’s hair away from her neck, holding it up to ascertain the effect. ‘Shall I try and pin it up afore it dries out, miss?’

      ‘If you like.’ She recalled Minnie’s efforts to do likewise.

      ‘I reckon it suits yer pinned up …’ Esther sighed. ‘I do wish I had hair this colour, miss.’

      ‘You could always dye it.’

      ‘Dye it?’ Esther chortled at the very notion. ‘Lor! Me mother’d kill me when she sid it. I daresn’t dye it.’

      ‘You could always keep your bonnet on.’

      ‘Or borry a wig,’ Esther quipped with a chuckle.

      Poppy changed the subject. ‘How old is Dolly, the other maid?’

      ‘Twenty-five.’

      ‘I ain’t had the chance to talk to her much.’

      ‘It’s her afternoon off. Gone a-courting, I ’spect. She’ll be back tonight. Dolly does most o’ the cookin’ and looks after the kitchen. I do the housework … and the donkey work … Oh, and then there’s Clay. You must’ve seen Clay afore. He does the gardening and anything to do with outside—’

      Poppy grinned. ‘Clay? That’s a good name for a gardener.’

      Esther laughed again, revealing the gap between her two front teeth. ‘I hadn’t thought about it, but you’m right. Any road, I think Clay used to work for Mr Newton afore he died, driving him about in his carriage. He still drives Mrs Newton about from time to time.’

      ‘But he don’t live in the house?’

      ‘No, thank the Lord. He lives over the stables. He cleans up his own mess.’

      The hair was done, to the satisfaction of Poppy and Esther, and Poppy put on her one and only dress. She went downstairs to Aunt Phoebe who was laying the dining-room table for tea herself. Poppy had never seen a tablecloth so white.

      ‘My goodness, your face is glowing, Poppy my dear,’ Aunt Phoebe remarked. ‘It must be the hot bath. Do you feel refreshed?’

      ‘Yes, thank you. D’you like the way Esther’s done me hair, look?’ She swivelled her head from side to side, seeking Aunt Phoebe’s approval.

      ‘Very elegant, my dear. Very elegant. Would you like to take tea now, or would you prefer to wait?’

      ‘Now, if you want. I’m hungry after me bath.’

      ‘Good. I prefer to take tea even earlier than this on a Sunday on account of going to church. But we shall have to forego church this Sunday – it’s been quite hectic, your moving in … Esther, would you make us a pot of tea? Poppy, would you be so kind as to go with Esther and slice and butter the bread, on account of it being Dolly’s afternoon off? Then bring it to the table with the jam and the cakes, if you please. I’ll lay out the crockery and find the serviettes.’

      So Aunt Phoebe and Poppy sat down to tea together. Although she was hungry, she did not want to disgrace herself, and was restrained when it came to filling her plate with sandwiches. Eclairs and custard pies also sat invitingly on the crystal glass cake stand before her. But she first took a sandwich and began munching it.

      ‘How old is Robert, Aunt Phoebe? He never told me.’

      ‘Robert is twenty-four. He will be twenty-five next May. He is now the black sheep as far as his family is concerned, you know,’ Aunt Phoebe declared conversationally. ‘However, he just happens to be my favourite nephew.’

      ‘Why is he the black sheep?’

      ‘Because he was expected to join the family firm. His going away has delayed that. He went much against his father’s wishes. However, he has always wanted to be independent of his father, and that has always been in his favour as far as I’m concerned. From a small boy, he had his heart set on becoming an engineer, though, like Mr Stephenson and Mr Brunel, whose work he has followed and studied assiduously. Of course, he has had the privilege of meeting Mr Brunel himself and working with him on the Oxford, Worcester and Wolverhampton project.’

      Poppy listened with wide-eyed interest as she ate. Robert had never discussed his family.

      ‘So he applied himself to civil engineering and, when he was nineteen, he dashed off to Edinburgh, with his father’s blessing, to study the subject at the university there. Would you like another sandwich, Poppy?’

      ‘Can I have one of those as well?’ She pointed to a custard pie.

      ‘Of course. Help yourself.’

      Poppy reached over and put one on her plate. ‘Where’s Edinburgh, Aunt Phoebe?’

      ‘Why, Scotland, my dear.’

      ‘Oh, Scotland …’ She nodded thoughtfully, at the same time eyeing up her custard pie. ‘That’s when he must’ve had the idea to build that funny two-wheeled machine he rides everywhere. He said he had the idea in Scotland …’ Poppy was pleased she’d made the connection between his education in Scotland and his machine. But there was still plenty more she wanted to know. ‘So when did he meet that girl he’s engaged to?’

      ‘Her family have been involved with Crawford’s for many a long year, I understand. I suspect she and Robert have known each other a long time. But their engagement was announced, oh … less than a year ago.’

      ‘Do you know this girl, Aunt Phoebe?’ She took a bite from the custard pie.

      ‘I know of her. I have been acquainted with her family. They are respectable and very affluent—’

      ‘Affluent? What does affluent mean? Robert was always teaching me the meaning of words.’

      ‘Affluent means wealthy. It stems from the Latin word affluere, to flow to. So, when money flows to you, you are considered affluent.’ Aunt Phoebe smiled indulgently, pleased that her new protégée was not inhibited about asking such questions.

      Poppy returned the smile, still munching, grateful in turn for the explanation. She had so much to learn in this world and she was a late starter. Another word kept cropping up as well, and it seemed these people of quality were preoccupied with it.

      ‘Why does everybody make such a fuss about being respectable, Aunt Phoebe?’

      ‘Oh, my dear!’ Aunt Phoebe picked up her napkin and dabbed at her mouth. ‘To my mind, respectability is all. To my mind, unless you earn the respect of people you are nothing.’

      ‘So how do you go about earning it?’

      ‘Initially, by not speaking when your mouth is full, Poppy.’

      ‘Oh … Sorry.’

      ‘One earns respectability simply by conforming to the standards of behaviour and etiquette expected of decent people. If you are deemed respectable you merit esteem. You do not merit esteem if you behave in a manner likely to cause offence or nuisance, if you behave immorally, dishonestly, or deceitfully, with no regard for others. Being respectable is being aware of your obligations and duties, and upholding them conscientiously. Being respectable is not putting a foot wrong. Respectability is an important word – a beautiful word – and I am pleased that you have asked me about it.’

      ‘So, if Robert were to give up this girl he’s engaged to and go off with somebody else, he would not be esteemed or seen as respectable?’

      Aunt Phoebe looked at Poppy askance. ‘I’m sure it would depend on the circumstances. But why would that be of interest to you, Poppy?’

      Poppy shrugged, feigning indifference, and popped the last piece of egg custard into her mouth. She made sure she had finished eating it before she spoke again.

      ‘There’s something I don’t understand, Aunt