Catherine couldn't help a small displeased frown. She had a long way to go with Ellie, not because the girl didn't know how to ride. Catherine had expected that and wasn't all too troubled by it. Many ladies didn't. There was nothing wrong with being afraid of horses either. A gentleman might find it a rather endearing feminine trait. It was the way Ellie responded that displeased her.

"We'll see. You needn't worry about that for now. We'll focus on the basics, and maybe we can work on a more common accomplishment. I could teach you a little piano. And we'll see how your singing is. But really, Ellie, you mustn't respond so..." She didn't know how to describe it. "... much."

Ellie's pleasant expression disappeared at the rebuff and her shoulders dropped.

"Oh... I understand, Miss."

Miss Catherine's really was a different world. You couldn't laugh - really laugh - at a nonsense suggestion like a fisher girl knowing how to ride a horse.

"I'm sorry. I am trying. It's all so new to me. The singin' and the piano does sound nice though."

Catherine pale cheeks pinkened. There was a pang of guilt when she observed the girl's dampened mood. But - Catherine quickly reasoned the uncomfortable sensation away - it was in Ellie's own best interest. She was acting as a friend to Ellie. A better friend than Ellie's fishlass friends who had probably encouraged vulgar manners all her life because they didn't know any better. Catherine knew better. So how could she leave poor Ellie in the dark?

But the drooped shoulders judged her. "I'm certain you'll be good at singing," she was quick to comment, hoping it would make Ellie (and herself) feel better. "You have a pleasant voice. Do you sing at all?"

"I Suppose, I try at church. My father, he has a lovely voice, I often get drowned out by him, but I hold on to his tune and go from there. Do you sing, Miss?"

"Excellent." Catherine quickly clung on to the sparkle of positivity. "We shall hear you sing." She got up. "I sing, but not very well. I play better. Come. There's a piano in the parlor. I shall play and you shall sing." She gave the younger girl an encouraging smile, before directing her to the door - the normal door this time, to a normal corridor.

Well, not normal to Ellie for sure. There was marble in places that really didn't require it and statues and vases that had no other function than to show off. The central staircase by which Catherine led her new project downstairs was equally opulent.

The excitement of having a pupil to impress and instruct had brought breath to her lungs and colour to her cheeks and Catherine managed to make it downstairs without fainting. "This way." She led Ellie into a light, airy parlour that looked on the drive. There were comfortable chairs and little tables, flowers, paintings, vases, fans and clever little trinkets from all over the world. At the far end of the room against the wall, just far away enough from the tall windows to be out of direct sunlight, stood an upright piano, its wooden panels carved with an elaborate flowery pattern. Catherine swept up her skirt and sat down in front of it. "Tell me a few hymns you know and I'll see which ones I can play."

Ellie blinked, her hands wringing in trepidation; the flaws in her basic education exposed with the ask. If she could read better, everything would be different.

"There's a hymn about clouds descending.. I can't remember who wrote it.." Ellie grabbed a fragment of memory and hugged it tightly.

"Hmmm.." Catherine thought for a moment. She thought she might know one or two lines of a hymn that started with those words, but she could not quite recollect the tune. Her religion did not surpass the cultural. Her family had a prominent box in St. Mary's. They didn't always go. Catherine had learned to pray in school. She knew a number of hymns from her charities. "How about a Christmas carol? It may be a little early, but everyone knows the same." More importantly, Catherine had played them hundreds of times. "Can you sing 'O Little Town of Bethlehem'"?

Ellie's eyes sparkled

"Everyone knows that one!"

The maid closed her eyes, shutting out the world around her. In her mind's eye, she was now in a chapel bathed in the warm light of a hundred candles, and the warmth of the body of community stood there. It was the rich darkness of yuletide. Filled with joy, Ellie started to sing:

"O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep"

The memory of everyone she knew singing loud enough to shake the dust from rafters, just added to the mental picture.

"The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight

For Christ is born of Mary"

Catherine started when Ellie began to sing before Catherine could play an introduction, but her trained fingers soon caught up. Compared to some of the classical pieces she knew, it was easy to play a few chords to accompany the carol and after one round she could focus on listening to Ellie. Her voice was pleasant enough, but her way of singing vulgar. It was evident that Ellie had only ever sung in church, or school, or in whatever public setting, where her voice was one among many. She had not been taught to sing in a parlor. There was no technique, no effort to enchant. But Ellie could not be blamed for that. It was merely a lack of education. Catherine would be happy to enlighten her.

After the third verse, Catherine stopped playing and folded her hands in her lap. "You have a pleasant voice," she declared, turning to her pupil. "We shall work with that. In fact, my sister is taking singing lesson. Perhaps we can work something out for you. Do you get any nights off at all?"