“Yes, my lady.”

Lady Marlborough looked about her for a chair and Abigail, seeing this and immediately bringing her one, was rewarded by a smile of approval.

Sarah beckoned the children to stand before her. She had decided that the boy was to be sent to school while she looked for an opening for him. She had only one post for the girls as yet and she thought it would be suitable for Abigail. As for the other girl she could not live alone and there was only one thing to be done and that was take her to her own house at St. Albans until something could be found for her.

She was thoughtful, watching them. This Abigail was a good girl; of the other one she was not sure. Was that a spark of frivolity she saw in Mistress Alice’s eyes? One thing was clear; the young one was not of the same docile disposition as her sister.

“In my position,” she began, “I receive a great many calls on my generosity. The Princess places all her affairs in my hands and that means I have posts …” She smiled pityingly, implying that these were posts which could not be within the range of the Hills’ meagre talents … “important posts of which to dispose. Those who desire them are ready to do me any service to obtain them; but I can assure you I must select most carefully.”

Alice, who since she had left home to become a servant had, so it seemed to Abigail, lost the good manners which their parents had insisted on, was impetuous and said: “Your ladyship’s position is one of great importance. In fact, I have heard it said that in a short time …” She caught Abigail’s warning glance and finished lamely: “But perhaps I am indiscreet.”

“Pray go on, Alice,” commanded Lady Marlborough.

“Well, it is said that the King is very weak and that he cannot live much longer and when he dies of course the Princess will be Queen and that means …”

Lady Marlborough was smiling complacently. Far from annoying her, Alice’s remark was putting her in a good mood.

“I can see Court gossip reaches you here,” she said; and Alice threw a triumphant glance at her sister while Lady Marlborough surveyed the room with the few pieces of furniture which had once been good and were now very shabby, showing signs of having seen, and said goodbye to, better days. “It is true,” she went on, “that the Princess places great trust in me, and I do my best to deserve it.”

Alice, emboldened by success, tried again. “I trust my lord the Earl is back at Court.”

A shadow passed across Lady Marlborough’s face. So, thought Abigail, the Earl is still waiting for his opportunity. He is not as fortunate as his wife. And was it to be wondered at? The King had suspected Marlborough of treason on more than one occasion; it was said that he was a “Jack,” which was the name Abigail had heard below stairs applied to Jacobites; in fact he had been in the Tower not so long ago; and then there had been the affair of the flower-pot intrigue. Lady Marlborough might have a great influence over the Princess Anne, but her husband was most certainly on uneasy terms with King William; and it would have been wiser for Alice to wait for Lady Marlborough to mention her husband’s name.

“The Earl has much with which to occupy himself,” replied Lady Marlborough coolly. She came to a decision in that moment. The younger girl was pert for she might have heard gossip about Marl and be trying a little impudence. The elder one was much more serious, much more aware of what she owed to her important cousin. The post she had decided on for the elder girl should go to the younger; and she herself would make use of Abigail while she decided what should become of her.

“Now,” she said firmly, “it is clear that you cannot stay here … three young people alone! Prompt action is necessary. I have plans for you all and you must be prepared to leave here within the next few days. These bits of furniture will not fetch much.” She addressed Abigail. “But you should sell them and what you get will mayhap put a little into your pockets. John, you are going to school.”

“To school!” cried John aghast. “I wanted a place in the Army.”

There was a shocked silence; then Lady Marlborough burst out laughing. “The Army! At your age. Why, you would have to join his Grace of Gloucester with a wooden sword and a toy musket.”

“But …” began the boy, and the tears were in his eyes.

Lady Marlborough waved a white hand on which jewels flashed. “I don’t doubt that if you show ability I shall, in time, be able to place you in the Army. But as yet you are but a child. I shall send clothes for you and you will go to school in St. Albans. There I shall watch your progress.”

John’s lips quivered and Abigail said nervously: “I am sure my brother is delighted.”

Lady Marlborough gave her a smile of approval. She was not mistaken in the girl. Abigail was the only one of these children who knew her place.

“It may well be,” said Lady Marlborough looking sternly at the boy, “that if you work hard and are humble, loyal and obedient, the Earl of Marlborough may find you a place in his Army.”

He would first, thought Abigail, have to come back into favour; but if the King died and Princess Anne became Queen Anne, it was very possible that he would. Oh how stupid were this brother and sister of hers. Did they not realize that this flamboyant arrogant woman held their futures in her hands. What a marvellous opportunity for them. And all this they owed to their cousin, the brilliant clever Lady Marlborough.

“John,” cried Abigail, “you should go down on to your knees and thank Lady Marlborough.”

A very good girl indeed, thought Sarah, with a proper sense of her duty and that of others.

“Thank you, Lady Marlborough,” said John obediently.

“I am sure you will do me credit.” She turned to Alice. “And I have an excellent opportunity for you. There is a vacancy in the household of the little Duke of Gloucester for a laundress.”

“A laundress!” gasped Alice.

“A laundress in the household of the young Duke is a post greatly coveted, I do assure you,” said Lady Marlborough acidly.

“My sister is overcome by your ladyship’s generosity,” said Abigail, impatient to know her own fate. “She is young and finds it difficult to express her gratitude.”

Lady Marlborough was soothed. “And grateful she should be, for the young Duke will be the heir to the throne as soon as Dutch William goes where he should have gone these many years. How he lingers on! He’s been dying ever since I saw him, and it was Mary who went first. I could never abide her, but for that Dutch Abortion …”

Alice gave a slight nervous giggle; John looked interested, and although Abigail’s expression did not change she was thinking: How indiscreet she is! How vulgar. And how odd that indiscretion and vulgarity should have brought her such high rewards!

“You may smile,” went on Lady Marlborough, “but that is one of the names Mrs. Morley and I use for him. Mrs. Morley is Anne … the Princess, you know. She would have us dispense with formality when we are together and she herself gave us the names of Mrs. Freeman—which is mine—and Mrs. Morley which is hers. Caliban! The Dutch Monster! That is how we speak of His Majesty.”

“But are you not afraid …” began too-impetuous Alice.

“Afraid, my dear child. I … afraid of that … creature!”

She likes Alice’s questions, thought Abigail; she wants to talk all the time, hold the centre of the stage while we act as a chorus, to repeat what she wants repeated, to form a background for her.

“I should not think you are ever afraid of anything, Lady Marlborough,” said John sincerely.

Oh when, thought Abigail, is she going to tell me what will happen to me?

“It would take more than that Hollander to strike fear into me, I can tell you. He knows it. He works against me and against the Earl … which is what I find so hard to forgive … but his day is almost over.”

“I hope Alice will be a good laundress,” said Abigail, trying to bring the conversation back to important issues.

“I fear I shall not,” put in Alice.

“Ah!” laughed Lady Marlborough. “You’ll do well enough. When you are given a post in a royal household you use it as a stepping stone to better things. Watch out, girl, and you will see where it will lead you.” She turned to Abigail. “And for you, I have plans.”

What thoughts could flash through the mind in a short space of time. A place at Court? She would watch illustrious people at close quarters; she would have a glimpse into matters which she believed could be of great interest to her. A place at Court, a stepping stone to better things.

“I am going to send you to St. Albans, Abigail. There you will be with my own children. You will, I am sure, make yourself useful.”

St. Albans! A poor relation in her cousin’s house! A sort of nursery maid to a family which were doubtless as arrogant as their mother.

Lucky John! Lucky Alice! Both were going to Court while Abigail was to be a poor relation, slightly higher than a chambermaid, but not much, in the house at St. Albans.

Lady Marlborough was watching her. She smiled and murmured her thanks.

Only Alice, who knew her so well, would know of the despair in her heart, and that she would guess; there was no sign of anything but abject gratitude on the plain features of Abigail Hill.

The furniture was sold and, with the very little money it had realized between them, the three Hills left the house in which their parents had died, and set out to make their fortunes: John to school; Alice to Campden House where the Duke of Gloucester had his household; and Abigail, after saying a sad farewell to her brother and sister, to take the coach to St. Albans.

The journey was one of discomfort and alarms. There were stretches of road made notorious by the robbers who lurked there; and even if the coachman had his blunderbuss and horn of gunpowder, such precautions were known to be of little use against really desperate men.

Abigail was too much concerned with her future to worry about the dangers of the road; she was wondering what her duties at St. Albans would be, for although Lady Marlborough had hinted that she would be one of the family she did not believe this would be so. She had discovered that there were five Churchill children and that the two elder girls, Henrietta and Anne, were older than she herself; she believed that Elizabeth the third daughter would be about two years younger, John, the only boy, three years younger, and Mary four. What could a thirteen-year-old girl do for such a family? she asked herself, for she guessed that she was being installed in the household as a poor relation who would be expected to make herself useful.

How differently Lady Marlborough must travel on her journeys from London to St. Albans! Abigail imagined her with her outriders and bodyguard of servants, all armed in preparation for encounters with highwaymen and equipped for emergencies such as ditching or breaking down. There would be running footmen too, to go ahead and announce what important people were on the way. Abigail could picture them dressed in the Marlborough livery, with their jockey caps and long staves trotting along the roads, pausing now to fortify themselves by drinking a little of the spirits they carried at the head of their staves. Oh yes, Lady Marlborough would travel in a very different way from her poor relation!

I am haunted by that woman, thought Abigail. It is unwise, because I could never be as she is and I should be grateful if now and then she reminds herself of my existence, which she will do—but only when I can be useful to her.

Then she consoled herself that Lady Marlborough would be at Court and it would be children of her own age—or thereabouts—with whom she had to deal.

Leaving the coach at St. Albans, she discovered that no one had come to meet her, but it was easy to find her way, for everyone knew the house built by the Earl of Marlborough on the site of Holywell House which had belonged to the Jennings. They still called it Holywell.

Her belongings, not amounting to much, were easily carried, and thus, quietly and discreetly, Abigail Hill found her way to her new home.

Her reception was much as she had expected it would be.

Who was the new arrival? the servants asked. She was a member of the family but that most despised of connections—a poor relation. Her clothes—those which were not recognized as Lady Elizabeth’s cast-offs—were shabby and much patched and darned. A very poor relation! She was to be put to useful service in the nursery. This was the command of Lady Marlborough, and those in authority would see that it would be carried out in the most humiliating way.