Free Without Sin by Margaret Dickinson

comfort the child, so she just sat beside her and held her hand. Betsy slept fitfully, dozing for a few moments then tossing and turning
with fever and whimpering pitifully. The minutes crawled by. Meg kept looking at Louisa’s watch hardly able to believe that the time was going so slowly. Once she held it to her ear to see if
it was still going. Reassured by the low tick-tick-tick, she was about to replace it on the top of the cabinet, when Betsy reached out her hand.
    ‘Let me hear it,’ she said.
    Meg held the watch close to the little girl’s ear. Betsy’s tiny mouth trembled and tears welled in her eyes. ‘My daddy had a watch like that. He – he used to let me
listen to it.’
    Meg held it there for a few moments until Betsy was asleep once more. She seemed calmer now and her face was not so flushed. Carefully, Meg placed the watch back on top of the chest, noting the
time as she did so. Another five minutes, she decided, and then, if Betsy was still asleep, she would creep away and go down to the master’s office. Now even the seconds dragged and Meg
fidgeted, agitatedly biting the nail of her little finger. When only three minutes had passed, she jumped up, unable to wait a second longer. With one last glance at Betsy, she crept towards the
door. Its creaking echoed in the silence and Meg held her breath, sure that it would wake not only the sick little girl, but half the dormitory too. As quietly as she could, she pulled the door to
and tiptoed down the centre of the long room. On either side, the children slept on straw mattresses in wooden beds pushed close together. Curled beneath rough blankets, some slept silently, while
others snuffled and muttered in their sleep. Bobbie, Meg noticed thankfully, was one of those sleeping peacefully, but in the end bed nearest the door to the landing, she could hear muffled sobs.
Meg paused, wanting to comfort the child, yet not liking to linger. She was nervous enough about lying to the master, even if it was to save Louisa from his clutches. What if he insisted on coming
up to the dormitory to see Betsy for himself and found her asleep and looking, if anything, better not worse?
    Meg moved on, out onto the landing and down the stairs. At the bottom she stood outside the master’s office door. She paused a moment, listening for the sound of voices from beyond the
door.
    She could hear nothing.
    Her heart pounding, Meg took a deep breath and rapped urgently on the door. Isaac Pendleton’s exasperated voice called, ‘Come in.’
    Meg rushed into the room. ‘Oh, Miss Daley, do come. It’s Betsy. I’m sure she’s worse. I didn’t know what to do.’
    Louisa was sitting on the sofa with the master close beside her, his arm around her shoulders. She stood up at once and placed the cup and saucer she was holding on the low table. Then she
turned to face Meg. ‘I’ll come at once.’ She glanced down at Isaac. ‘I’m so sorry, but I must go. The child is very sick. I really shouldn’t have left her . .
.’
    Isaac struggled to his feet. He put his arm around her again and hugged her to him. ‘Your concern does you credit, my dear.’ Then he turned frosty eyes upon Meg. ‘But you
should have fetched the matron, girl. Miss Daley deserves a night off now and again. She works far too hard as it is.’ His eyes narrowed and Meg read the threat in them. Suddenly, he was once
again the bullnecked, angry tyrant wielding power over all the people in his charge – staff and inmates alike. ‘If I’m to allow you to continue as Miss Daley’s assistant,
you’ll have to cope better than this.’
    Meg dropped her gaze. ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ she said meekly for the second time that day. ‘I – I was just so frightened. Betsy’s breathing. It sounds awful . .
.’
    Louisa eased herself away from Isaac. ‘I’d better go. Perhaps, if she settles again, I can come back.’
    ‘Please do, my dear.’ Isaac’s voice was husky, but with one last squeeze