There was friend of my elder sister, Amy - whom she had met when she went to Castle Nock - called Martha Hopkins.

Somehow Martha heard that I was staying at Rathgar and she wrote me a letter saying that she would very much like to see Amy’s sister and she asked If we could meet.

This looked to me to be so impossible.

I took the note to my aunt and asked her permission, but she at once said: “Write and invite her to tea.”

I was much surprised but I was also pleased and did so without hesitation.

The day and the hour were fixed.

My aunt had a nap in her room every afternoon so I looked out of the window and, when Martha appeared, I quickly opened the front door before she knocked., to avoid waking my aunt. I had previously told Jane, the house parlourmaid, to bring tea and toasted scones at five o’clock.

Martha made herself at home at once and was really pleased to see me. She did not notice that I was nervous. In fact, I was on tenterhooks in case of my aunt making an appearance. Jane had taken her a cup of tea and she was reading ‘The Family Herald” - and Princess Novelettes, a few railway guides and catalogues, etc. (A large Bible was read every morning and prayers were said before breakfast in which the servants joined in. My uncle Tom read these. My aunt was not present as she breakfasted in bed.)

Martha remarked that she had watched all my cousins driving and walking in Dublin and getting married - all their fashionable weddings etc. She mentioned my cousin’s wonderful wedding dress. My cousin, Alice, had married a very rich man - Alec Conan, tailors to Royalty who had an establishment in, I think Abbey Street or Fitzroy Square - I cannot remember now. They lived in a palatial house out at Walkey Island. Alec had it built after some palace in Vienna and he called it ‘Mount Alverno.’

Three grandsons lived during their holidays at my aunt’s house, Clarendon. They had lost their parents and little devils they were - Harold, Bertie and I forget the little one’s name. They all rushed in while Martha was there and were rather taken aback to see me entertaining. Harold had the affront to say: Does your granny know that you are having tea on your own?”

I told them - yes - that granny knew everything that went on in the house.

It was the insulting way that Harold had spoke that annoyed  

me and Martha burst out laughing. When he left the room she said:

“That boy want’s a good hiding; anyone would think you were thieving your tea. I am sure that you are uncomfortable enough. Perhaps I had better go?”

I assured her that I was allright but she put on her things and said: “Poor dear - I feel so sorry for you. I know what Amy had to put up with. But she has nerve and was a match for them.”

I had one pound each month given me and a threepenny bit to put on the plate on Sunday. Harold or Bertie - one or the other - tried to get the pound out of me when they knew I had it. I wanted to send this one pound - a golden sovereign not a note like we have now - to my mother but I was afraid to send it all at once. So when I could get out to post letters, I used to get a postal order for ten shillings or five shillings or even three shillings until it was all sent. It went off in a deep black-edged envelope and I wrote down the dates when it was posted.

I was always waiting for this sovereign at the end of each month.

For my keep, I had to keep the flowers nice for the table and wash the wine glasses in the butler’s pantry and clean part of the silver. I also had to draw up the blinds and all sort of jobs - mend the boys’ stockings and sew on their buttons.

My great tall cousin Ethel Bishop, who was married to a specialist in dentistry and has a flat in Merrion Square, bounced in dressed in black satin with a long train trailing behind her and asked what I had done with the money?

She knew that months and months had passed and I had not bought thing.

I hesitated but could see that she was determined to find out.

I said in my heart, “In thee, oh God, I put my trust. Let me not be afraid,” and then I blurted it out: “I have sent the money to my mother.”

She hated me and said I was dishonest till I wept bitterly and went upstairs to my room.

“I shall tell mother,” she said, “And you’ll catch it.”

I saw her leave in her carriage and drive away and then I went down to face the music alone.

My uncle put out his arms to me and said: “You are a good girl and your aunt and I are indeed pleased with you. We had no idea. We cannot praise you enough. Here are two sovereigns that you can post off in your next letter - and say they are from yourself.”

So that was that and I never felt such relief.