Gypsy by Lesley Pearse Page B

she used to say she wanted at least six children, and she was so strong and healthy that Mrs Bruce had expected it would come about in the fullness of time. But it hadn’t, and as each year passed it seemed less likely.
    Molly woke and stretched. On seeing Mrs Langworthy, her face broke into a wide smile and she lifted her arms to be picked up.
    ‘She’ll be wet and spoil your dress,’ Beth said in alarm.
    ‘As if I care about that!’ Mrs Langworthy laughed and eagerly scooped the baby up. ‘So, little Molly, it must be nearly your dinnertime,’ she said. ‘What is it to be today?’
    Molly was busy playing with Mrs Langworthy’s necklace, and tentatively tried to chew it.
    ‘Cook saved some of the lamb stew from last night for her,’ Mrs Bruce said. ‘She’s such a joy to feed, I’ve never seen her refuse anything.’
    ‘Could I feed her?’ Mrs Langworthy asked.
    Beth couldn’t understand why her mistress would want to do such a thing, but she readily agreed. ‘You’d better put an apron on, though, she’s a bit messy,’ she added.
    Mrs Bruce busied herself with her duties, but made a point of going in and out of the kitchen as Mrs Langworthy fed Molly. To her surprise the mistress looked entirely at ease with the baby on her lap, spooning the food into her greedy little mouth. Yet even more amusing to watch was Beth, for as she sat on the opposite side of the table to the mistress, her mouth kept opening and shutting in time with Molly, and every now and then her hand would move involuntarily as if unable to believe Mrs Langworthy could scoop uneaten food from around the child’s mouth and pop that in too, the way she did.
    Her mistress clearly picked up on Beth’s tension. ‘I have had some previous experience,’ she said with a gay little laugh. ‘I used to feed my younger brothers and sisters regularly. I just haven’t had any encounters with babies or small children since I married.’
    ‘You are really good at it,’ Beth said admiringly. ‘I was scared stiff of Molly at first. I’d never even held a newborn baby before, much less fed and changed one.’
    ‘I must try changing her too,’ Mrs Langworthy said, her face all aglow. ‘Babies are much more agreeable to take care of than grumpy old men.’
    Mrs Bruce turned away so that neither Beth nor her mistress would see the tears well up in her eyes. She sensed it could only end badly because Beth would move on before long and take Molly with her.
    All through the autumn, at Christmas and into the New Year of 1895, Mrs Bruce watched Beth and Molly gradually working their way into everyone’s hearts at Falkner Square. She knew it wasn’t her imagination because she too was falling under their spell.
    It was hard not to love someone who could sing even when she was sluicing filthy napkins. Her merry laugh enlivened the basement; her eagerness to help everyone with their chores created a happy atmosphere. She would gladly spend the afternoon cleaning silver, pressing Mr Edward’s clothes or reading to old Mr Langworthy, even though she wasn’t paid to do any of these extra duties. Perhaps it was because she preferred to work than be alone with Molly in her rooms, but whatever the reason, Mrs Bruce liked having her around.
    They had celebrated Molly’s first birthday before Christmas in the kitchen. Cook made a special iced cake and a trifle, Kathleen the maid had blown up balloons, and even Sam and Mr Edward came home earlier to be there. Beth had made Molly a new pink dress, which she immediately daubed with trifle. She had been able to walk a few steps holding on to someone’s hands for some little time, but that afternoon she took four or five steps unaided to reach Mrs Langworthy.
    It was undoubtedly because there was a child in the house that Mr Edward brought home a Christmas tree, for they’d never had one before. Sam fixed it securely in a large tub and placed it by the drawing-room window, and Beth helped Mrs Langworthy trim