The passages Mrs Cox chooses for me to read aloud to her while she sews gets harder and harder. Occasionally she will ask me to repeat a whole sentence – sometimes even an entire paragraph – because I have not made its meaning clear. Now she reaches for a volume of verse. I am to read poetry. Keats. I may take it to my room to study it there.
‘You are doing well, my dear. Very well. Ignore those silly girls who are being so unkind to you. Yes, I know all about them, but if I intervene it will only make it worse for you. Be strong. Remember, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never harm me.” They will marry labourers and cowherds. You will run a castle. Now, to do that you will need to understand money. Can you add up and take away? Show me. Oh, dear. But when I have finished, you will be able to deal with columns of figures as easily as you read Pamela just now.’