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the baby for a moment while you see to your little girls. Their noses need wiping.'
    ‘ Oh no, miss — m'lady — it isn't fitting!' Mrs Batty cried, clutching the wailing bundle more tightly.
    ‘ Nonsense, do you think I've never held a baby before?' Héloïse said cheerfully. Howling and damp it may be, she thought, but it was at least a better prospect than those noses. She took the infant from the mother, and at once it stopped crying. The silence was blissful. A moment later Héloïse realised that the muted, heavy double thump of the loom above their heads was missing. Normally, Batty worked at his loom from five in the morning until eight at night: that noise was like the heartbeat of the house.
    ‘ Is your husband out?' she asked in surprise.
    Mrs Batty reddened. 'Oh — why, yes, m'lady. Yes, he is out.'
    ‘ Work is short, then, is it?' Héloïse said sympathetically. Times were bad everywhere, and she knew from what Edward had said that they had been giving out less work than usual, for they could not sell the finished cloth. The ware house on King's Staith was filling up.
    Mrs Batty hesitated, and looked away to either side as if seeking inspiration. 'Yes, m'lady,' she said at last.
    ‘ I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do, but you know that business is bad everywhere. But look, I have brought you some calves-foot jelly, which I want you to promise to keep for yourself, for you must keep up your strength while you are feeding the baby. And here is some of Mrs Thomson's special elixir, which you can all take. Everyone says it is very good, you know, for sore throats and coughs. Do the children cough at night? Well, then, this will help you all sleep more soundly.'
    ‘ It's very kind of you, m'lady,' Mrs Batty said feebly, getting on with the nose-wiping at last. Just then, little Jack came back in with an armful of wood and an air of import ance.
    ‘ Me dad's comin'!' he announced, jerking his head towards the back door. The news seemed for some reason to agitate Mrs Batty.
    ‘ Oh, quick, our Jacky, run out and tell Dad her ladyship's here! Go on, now, quick!’
    But before Jack could obey, the door was flung open and Weaver Batty walked in. He stopped dead at the sight of Héloïse, and another man coming in behind him bumped into him and cursed, and then stepped back quickly into the shadow of the doorway. From somewhere between them a paper slithered and dropped with a soft, flat sound to the floor.
    Héloïse looked at Batty curiously. 'I'm sorry if I startled you,' she said. 'I have just come to visit your wife and see how she does. Everyone has this dreadful cold, it seems.’
    Batty looked disconcerted, but at Héloïse's words he made an obvious effort and said, 'Oh, that's right kind of you, my lady. I know it bucks our Annie up wonderful to have your ladyship call. I'm main sorry I wasn't here to greet your lady ship, only –' He stopped, not seeming to know how to finish the sentence.
    Héloïse moved round the bed to return the infant, now asleep and disagreeably damp, to its mother, but without taking her eyes from Batty's face. Something was wrong, she felt: he seemed more than naturally put out at her presence, and the atmosphere in the room was briny with tension.
    ‘ I'm afraid you haven't much work at the moment,' she said smoothly. 'I'm sorry for it, but we have none to give out, you know.'
    ‘ Oh – yes, well – that's all right, my lady,' Batty said awkwardly. 'It can't be helped.’
    But there was a definite movement in the doorway behind him, and Héloïse smiled and said, 'Don't let me keep you out of your own house, Batty. Please come in – and bring your friend in too.’
    Batty hesitated, and then with what was almost a shrug stepped aside and turned his head to the other man behind him. 'It's me brother Tom, my lady. Come in, Tom. Aye, aye, it's all right. Come on in.’
    The man who stepped in behind Batty was not unlike him, but younger, darker, and thinner,