Ursula Bourne, it seemed, was one of a family of seven⁠—impoverished Irish gentlefolk. On the death of her father, most of the girls were cast out into the world to earn their own living. Ursula’s eldest sister was married to Captain Folliott. It was she whom I had seen that Sunday, and the cause of her embarrassment was clear enough now. Determined to earn her living and not attracted to the idea of being a nursery governess⁠—the one profession open to an untrained girl, Ursula preferred the job of parlour maid. She scorned to label herself a “lady parlour maid.” She would be the real thing, her reference being supplied by her sister. At Fernly, despite an aloofness which, as has been seen, caused some comment, she was a success at her job⁠—quick, competent, and thorough.

“I enjoyed the work,” she explained. “And I had plenty of time to myself.”