Josiah spent the whole night in the dressing room. Mrs Cornbench had been thoughtful enough to set up a day bed in there for him while he has been staying here to give instructions as to what should be done at the Hall. The rooms set aside for our use (we must find a way to make adequate recompense to the woman as soon as we are free of this place) are nice enough, but Josiah is being too polite to request a fire or anything much in the way of help from the servants. He has been sleeping on the day bed in preference to the one in ‘our’ room. Last night I sat outside his door for hours hoping he would need me to comfort him, but he did not call upon me. I can only guess at the anguish he feels at the death of his friend.
Today I am to visit the cottage near St Beverel’s to see if Cook is indeed there. I should be keen to find her alive after all these weeks but in truth I can not bring myself to care overmuch. I am being dutiful as a good employer should be, not excited as a friend. After all, if it is her, what is to be done with her? She may have been the cause of the fire – I rather fear she shall not be welcome at the Hall in future. I will certainly not bring her to London – she would cause havoc in the streets. She would not cut such an unusual figure amongst the residents of Bayswater, it must be acknowledged, but I find myself unwilling to take on the responsibility of keeping her safe for much longer.
No, if Cook is upstairs in that cottage she can stay there. And if they do not wish to deal with her ravings she must go back to Horsham.