Free The Trespass by Barbara Ewing

heart at all times: I am sure you know and understand this. If you have any other little expenses, your father, I have no doubt, will provide. What is it, my dear, a new gown? A piece of pretty jewellery that has caught your eye? What can I arrange for you? Say the word.’ And he smiled benevolently.
    ‘Mr Frith, I do not want you to “arrange” for me in that way. I understood from my mother before she died that my father had agreed that the money was to come to me as it was unlikely that I would marry. That it was mine.’
    Mr Frith put his cup down firmly on the small table beside the chair, and stood.
    ‘Miss Cooper, if I may be blunt, nothing in the world is yours. Now I am, if you will excuse me, an extremely busy man. Your mother’s money is safe where it is and wisely invested and I do not think you should be worrying your pretty little head about matters that do not concern you. Your father will always provide for you of course, and should anything happen to him your brothers will do the same. Your father, as I say, always has your interests at heart: only the other day he and I were reminded that you were about to turn thirty – indeed I believe the day is today and I do give you my very best wishes. Your duty, Miss Cooper, is to make your father happy, and he in return takes all the worries of the world from your weaker shoulders. That is how it will continue. Now if you will excuse me…’ and he moved into the hall where the footman waited to hand him his hat.
    ‘A final word, Miss Cooper. It is a well-known fact, my dear, that women’s brains are smaller than men’s and should never be troubled by manly things.’
    Mary flushed on her thirtieth birthday, the footman smirked very slightly as he opened the front door, and Mr Frith disappeared into the grey, hazy afternoon.
    *   *   *
    Harriet picked up her bonnet and a small basket.
    ‘I shall go for a walk,’ she said to her aunt and Augusta and Alice, who were sitting in the drawing room with the curtains partly drawn, looking exhausted.
    ‘Walk!’ repeated Aunt Lucretia in amazement.
    ‘Oh heavens!’ said Alice.
    ‘That is ridiculous,’ said Augusta.
    Needlework sat untouched; all three of them were wearing gloves, to keep their hands white.
    ‘Unless of course there is something you wish me to do?’ added Harriet hurriedly.
    Her aunt gave a limpid wave. ‘No, my dear.’ The clock ticked loudly and Aunt Lucretia sighed, picked up a fan decorated with bright flowers and fanned herself languidly. ‘We are only resting. Preparing ourselves for what is to come.’ Then she remembered her duty. ‘But I do not think a young girl should walk alone, it is not proper. We cannot spare one of the servants at the moment of course.’
    ‘I shall not go far, Aunt Lucretia,’ said Harriet.
    ‘It is not proper,’ repeated her aunt, but droopingly.
    ‘May I go, may I go, may I go?’ Asobel rushed into the room from nowhere with her own bonnet in her hand, ribbons trailing across the floor. ‘Let me come too, Harriet!’
    ‘Asobel!’ said Aunt Lucretia.
    ‘Asobel!’ said Augusta.
    ‘Asobel!’ said Alice.
    ‘Really Asobel, you are becoming more and more of a nuisance,’ said her mother. ‘It is too hot, you are not going with Harriet, you will lie down in the nursery and conserve your strength for the wedding day, or I shall not allow you to be a flowergirl at all. If Harriet means to be foolish that is her own business.’ And Aunt Lucretia lay back in the sofa in the darkened room and closed her eyes.
    The little girl stood at the front porch waving disconsolately as Harriet became a smaller and smaller figure in the distance. She sat down on the steps in the sunshine and dejectedly plaited the ribbons of her bonnet. The voices of her mother and her sisters floated out from the drawing room.
    ‘I do not understand why Harriet is so solemn, ’ Lucretia complained. ‘She used to be a perfectly pleasant little girl. It is as if she