"It is very restful, Miss Delamir. Dust falls on everyone alike."
She dried her hands on her apron.
"I only reach it sooner."
Nobody spoke. The footman forgot to look at the ceiling. Miss Delamir's fan stopped in midair.
"The bell in the east passage is ringing," said Hester. "I believe it is for tea."
She picked up her pail and went on.
Behind her, in the silence, one of the housemaids made a sound like a suppressed sneeze.
* * *
3 weeks later, the copy book was nearly full.
She had filled the last pages in the margins, in her own small hand, by the light of a lamp nobody counted.
The fire was lit every evening before she came. The chair had a second cushion. She sat in it now. She had stopped pretending she would not.
On the 21st night, the Duke came in without knocking and shut the door behind him.
"Sutherby dines with Lady Wexford," he said. "We have 2 hours. Show me."
"Where would you like me to begin, your grace?"
"Where you will not be doubted."
She stood and went to the plinth. Her hands were quite steady. That surprised her.
"The fourth line," she said. "This one."
She laid her forefinger on the half circle, a hair's breadth above the granite.
"The learned gentlemen read it as the setting sun. It appears 19 times on this stone."
"I am aware. I have heard 19 sermons on it."
"If it were the sun, your grace, the stone would record 19 sunsets in a single afternoon. I think that would have been remarked on."
The Duke's mouth moved very slightly.
"It is a loaf. Look at what stands beside it."
She showed him the strokes, grouped in rows like a tally. Six tens beside the loaf. Four tens beside a jar with a narrow neck. A 12 beside a small flame.
"60 loaves," said Hester. "40 jars of beer. 12 measures of lamp oil."
He came and stood at her shoulder. He did not touch the stone.
"You are saying it is an inventory."
"I am saying it is a steward's order, and the steward was thorough. It goes on for 40 lines. Barley, salt, linen, the price of a goat. There is a quarrel over the goat."
"A goat?"
"He was outraged, your grace. The scribe took the trouble to cut it twice."
The Duke let out a breath that was not quite a laugh.
"And Sutherby's kingship hymn?"
"It is a very long way from a hymn. There is one measure of barley for each hand that cleans the hall."