The pool of St Branok

That was an unhappy visit. My mother went to stay with Helena at then-house in Westminster. I remained with Aunt Amaryllis and Uncle Peter. When Frances and Peter came they talked to me of their houses of refuge in the East End of London. They now had several of these.

"We have always been greatly helped by my father-in-law," Frances said. "He always likes it to be announced when he gives a donation and we all know it is for the glorification of Peter Lansdon. He would have had a title by now, I am sure, if his business was not so disreputable; but I think he hopes to override this difficulty in time."

Peterkin said: "My father is a man who always overrides all difficulties."

"Of course we receive the money most gratefully," went on Frances. "To me it seems unimportant where it comes from as long as it is put to good use. I have had three more soup kitchens this year through his bounty. So who am I to complain?"

"The money comes from the pockets of the rich who squander it at my father's clubs," said Peterkin. "It is fitting that it should be used for the benefit of the poor—some of it anyway."

"It is good of Uncle Peter to give it," I said.

"It is very good for us ... and Uncle Peter," added Frances.

"It seems to me," I replied reflectively, "that it is not always easy to tell what is good or bad."

"I can see young Angelet is going to be a wise woman," said Frances.

When I visited the Mission she put me to work. I ladled soup out of the great tureens for the people who lined up for it in the kitchens. I was deeply touched by the experience and very sorry for the people who came to be fed ... particularly the children.

During that time I met poor women who had been ill-treated by husbands or male acquaintances; I saw women about to give birth and having no place to go. I watched Frances deal with them; she was brisk and without sentimentality; she rarely expressed pity; but she always solved their problems.

Peterkin was with her in everything she did, but she was the leading spirit. He adored her; but he was more easily affected than she was; and somehow this made him less effective.

I thought how strange it was that Uncle Peter should have a son like Peterkin. I think he must have had a great respect for Frances, although he always spoke of her with a hint of cynicism. She saw right through him and Uncle Peter was the sort of man who would respect her for that.

That was necessarily a melancholy visit and I was relieved when we returned home. There was nothing we could do to disperse the gloom.

Time, I hoped, would help to do that.

People were right about the fall of Sebastopol. It did virtually put an end to the war although it dragged on in a desultory way until the end of the year, when peace negotiations were started. These seemed to go on and on. The winter passed. March was with us before the Peace of Paris was signed and the forces started to leave the Crimea. Aunt Amaryllis wrote again:

Helena seems to have recovered a little. Matthew is so good and kind to her. He has been a wonderful husband. Of course he has no post in Palmerston's government, but Peter says Palmerston won't stay. He was popular during the war but people do get tired of war and he expects Derby to be back in the not too distant future and then Matthew's chances will be high ...

There was a great deal of celebration and rejoicing when the treaty was signed. Now we are awaiting the return of the soldiers ... only Jonnie won't be among them. Some of them are already home. Poor souls, how they have suffered. I don't think people will be shouting in the streets for war for a long time. They are saying that we lost twenty-four thousand and the Russians five hundred thousand and the French sixty-three ... So we came off best. And poor Jonnie was one of that twenty-four thousand. How dreadfully sad it all is! I wish they would settle their differences in some way other than killing people who have really nothing to do with it and perhaps do not even know what it is all about.

They say that some of the nurses are remaining in Scutari till the last of the soldiers have left. Then they will come home. Some of them have come back. There are some terrible cases and the nurses came with them ... to nurse them on the way. I wonder what happened to that nice girl, Grace. What a wonderful job she has done!

We are all hoping that we shall see you soon. You know how we love to have you. There are special times when families should be together. Now that I am getting older I find these times very frequent.

So do come soon.

"We must go again," said my mother. "I always used to enjoy those visits to London so much. Last time, of course, it was very sad ... but even Helena must grow away from her grief."

So once again we found ourselves in London.