The Hamiltons of Ballydown Read Online Free Page B

allowed to take her turn lighting them.
    But then, she thought, any gas lamp Hugh chose would be simple and safe.
    ‘Simplicity and safety, those are the most important things with anything new,’ she’d heard him insist a dozen times. ‘When you’ve hundreds of work people, most of them quite unfamiliar with any kind of technology, some of them very young, ithas to be within their grasp, otherwise it’s simply a source of danger.’
    Nevertheless, accidents there were, for all his awareness of danger and his efforts to protect his workers. Hardly a week passed without some report in the
Banbridge Chronicle
of a serious injury or death.
    Rose looked up at the clock. After the excitements of the morning and the need to study the new drawings, it would probably be another hour before John appeared for a bite of lunch. She carried her small sewing table over to the window, fetched the bodice of Sarah’s dress from the cupboard and spread it out on her knee. The machining had been done on Elizabeth’s new Singer, the delicate shirring and decorating of the bodice was left for her own practised hand.
    She ran her eye over the pretty patterned fabric and threaded her needle. She so hoped Sarah would like it. The trouble was, she was often so unpredictable. It was one of the many contradictions in her character that, though she loved colour and texture, she paid not the slightest attention to fashion and was usually totally indifferent to what she was wearing. The only dress she’d ever said she liked was Rose’s best silk. She’d insisted that one day she would have one just like it.
    Shopping together in Robinson Cleaver’s new store in Belfast for material to make the birthdaydress, it was Elizabeth who put her hand out to the fine lawn fabric draped on a display stand.
    ‘Do you think she might like this one, Rose?’ she said, smiling broadly. ‘It’s not exactly silk,’ she went on, ‘but the feel of it is so soft and the little flowers are so pretty.’
    ‘Yes, I think you’re right. It is soft, isn’t it? Let’s go and look at patterns and see how many yards I’ll need?’
    She smiled to herself, recalling the moment. Elizabeth was kind to all the children, but Rose had always known that Sarah was her favourite. Whenever she heard of her latest enthusiasm and the difficulties into which it had inevitably led her, the warmth of the response, the hint of a smile in the voice, so regularly gave her away.
    Though Sarah was not given to expressing her feelings very obviously towards those closest to her, Rose knew the feeling was mutual. She’d accepted Elizabeth and Hugh from their very first meeting, making up her mind in an instant, whereas Hannah had taken her time to make up her mind. Polite and responsive as Hannah always was, it was weeks before Rose could be sure she was completely at ease with them.
    For herself, it had been a pleasure getting to know Elizabeth. She was one of those women who spoke her mind readily enough, but seldom said anything sharp, or unpleasant. They had slippedeasily into what had rapidly become a very close intimacy, each openly grateful for the presence of a like-minded woman friend so close by. While Elizabeth had aunts and cousins a-plenty, they were widely dispersed around the countryside and she seldom visited away from home, for although she had a competent and trusted housekeeper who would see to her brother’s needs, she knew how often Hugh could be overcome with loneliness or discouragement. Despite his firm convictions that he must always do his best for his fellow creatures, he didn’t apply his convictions to himself. He took little thought for his own comfort or peace of mind and allowed himself little leisure or pleasure.
    Sitting side by side in the conservatory of Rathdrum House, one pleasant October morning, a pile of quilting pieces between them, some months after they’d become close friends, Elizabeth had put down her work and looked thoughtfully at