Iseult kept Mary Anne with her until Charlotte had recovered sufficiently to take her back. Mary Anne had been happy enough during the day, but cried for her mother at night.
“Please don’t tell Lochlann about this little episode,” Charlotte begged her sister-in-law. “It will only worry him and besides it was nothing. I think I’ve been overdoing things and not getting enough sleep. I’m fully recovered now.”
Dr Grace, visiting at the time, murmured sympathetically as if she believed her, but secretly worried about the state of Charlotte’s nerves and wondered if she suffered from a deep-seated condition that could erupt at any time. Iseult feared that Charlotte had inherited a family madness that might be passed on to the child. One had only to remember that she had locked herself away for three years and eaten herself into the size of a barn to realise she might be a bit unbalanced. Neither woman confided her fears to the other, but both determined to keep a closer eye on the unfortunate woman whom they had grown to love and admire.
During the next few weeks both noticed that Charlotte didn’t recover her confidence and joy in the handling of Mary Anne. She was sad and tentative and prone to lapses of concentration, sinking into deep thought at intervals, oblivious of her surroundings.
Mary Anne became clingy, registering unease if Charlotte moved even a short distance away from her side.
Charlotte wrote to Colonel Turncastle to say she had given a lot of thought to what he had said, especially the part about securing the future for all children, and was applying to join the SOE as soon as possible.