The Chainmakers Read Online Free Page B

full. When the pudding came, a delicious spongy confection filled with apples, Anna blurted out, 'It's lovely, but I'm as full as a gun!'
    She blushed, as Robert laughed out loud and told her she was wonderful, a breath of fresh air. Florence too was laughing, and then said kindly,
    'Don't worry Anna, we are not laughing at you, but with you. Robert is quite right, it has been a tonic to have you here this weekend, and I'm so glad you will be coming regularly. Now let me give you a little advice for when we have guests, because then there will be more courses than we have had tonight.'
    'More?' Anna was astounded.
    'Yes, six at least and sometimes more. But my dear...' she leaned forward confidentially, 'It is not strictly necessary to eat every last scrap!'
    'Oh!' Anna blushed. 'I see.' She did indeed. She had noticed Florence Nicholson leave half her food on her plate and had thought it a criminal waste, but deduced she was perhaps not feeling too well.
    'Just eat a little of everything to be polite, and a little more of anything you particularly like,' Florence explained. 'Then you won't be too full.'
    'And when I come here, I'll eat with you and your guests on Saturdays?' Anna asked nervously.
    'Of course.'
    'But I'm not sure... I don't know...'
    'My dear...' Florence put a hand over Anna's and smiled at her. 'Your manners are a credit to you and your mother, you have nothing to be nervous about. I shall always seat you where you can watch me. Your behaviour is far superior to that of some of the young ladies Robert sees fit to invite.' She said this in a tone of admonition, but Robert only laughed again and said Anna would be a tonic in any company.
    Anna wriggled slightly in her seat as she remembered the meal. Perhaps she shouldn't tell the girls too much about it, they might think she was showing off, especially if she told them about being put in what Florence called the second guest room, instead of the servants quarters. If that was the second guest room, Anna mused, heaven alone knows what the first must be like. So big, and a lovely fire lit, and a thick rug and an easy chair and pretty curtains, which the maid had come in to draw as Anna was getting ready for dinner. That had simply entailed putting on her Sunday chapel skirt and blouse, which was all she possessed apart from the black alpaca she wore to work, covered by a big "baggin" apron made from boiled sugar bags. Anna smiled gently to herself as she remembered how the maid had brought hot water for her to wash in the big blue and white china bowl on the washstand, and the piece of soap that smelled of violets. And then, after that wonderful meal, when she had snuggled down into the crisp white lavender scented sheets, she had given her body over to the luxurious softness of the big bed, a softness she had never realised existed, accustomed as she was to the hard straw palliase which had been handed down to her when Will left home.
    The only thing that hadn't been right was her clothes. She had arrived in her black alpaca intending to change into her best skirt and blouse for the first sitting, but Robert would have none of it, and was most annoyed when he found she had not brought her "baggin" apron.
    'Don't you understand Anna?' he had said crossly, pacing the big studio which ran across the back of the house. 'I want to paint you as you are, as a chainmaker... that's the whole point of the exercise, and I need you in your working clothes. You've changed your hair too,' he added accusingly.
    'I just washed and curled it last night, so it would look nice for the sitting...' Anna explained, unable to understand his attitude. 'I just thought...'
    'Well don't think!' Robert said firmly. 'Remember I want to paint you as a chainmaker and I want your hair just as usual, done up but some bits straggling down... how it was when I saw you at the chainshop. Although,' he added, his good humour quickly returning,'I don't object to your washing your face, or your hair