Then outside on the porch, she heard a light step; and a brisk tap on the door gave her hardly time to call out “Jah – come in!” before Harriet Whichart, smiling and rosy from the cold, came into the kitchen. She closed the door behind her, saying: “Quick! Keep in the warmth! ‘Tis cold enough to snow I believe!”

Harriet pulled off her boots, and hung her shawl on the hook behind the door. “Is that my favourite baby waking up I can hear?” she asked. “Dorcas – you have flour on your nose end! Go and scrub up now, for I’ve come to be Granny for the afternoon. I think you may like a little time to go across and listen to the choir practice.”

Dorcas burst into tears.