'Mama, Mama,' Mathilde called out to her mother from the breakfast room.

'Mama, I appear to have mislaid my flags for the meeting on Friday next in London. I distinctly recall placing them in my garderobe on my return from London, more than a month ago. Difficult to miss in green, white and purple. My Lady's maid, Dilly, swears she has not seen them. Have you come across them Mama?,' Mathilde queried  with increasing impatience.



Lady Betsy lingered a little longer in the corridor outside the breakfast room, hoping to avoid discussion with Mathilde about the Suffragette flags.

'No Mathilde,' Lady Betsy finally answered reluctantly.

'I have not had occasion to come across flags of any hue, either green, white or blue.'



Lady Betsy was beside herself with anxiety, to decipher if Mathilde had accepted Le Marquis's invitation to the London Spring Ball.



'Spring is such a beautiful season to attend the ball with Marquis Gregoire,' Lady Betsy commented, wishing to change the difficult subject of flags.

Being increasingly anxious about her daughter's marriage prospects, Le Marquis's invitation offered the possibility of a perfect match.



Descended  from monied stock and being a banker in London, Le Marquis would enable Briarly Hall to remain as a family dynasty. Despite Lady Betsy's urging of her husband, Sir Alfred, to encourage the match, Alfred remained somewhat aloof. Absorbed in his hunting and fishing and parliamentary duties, Sir Alfred seemed somewhat fatalistic about life events. Lady Betsy knew that love and romance and especially marriage needed a significant push in the right direction.



'Mama, Mama,' Mathilde called out, 'Dilly has just found the flags. Not in my boudoir but safely stored  in the basement with a further bundle of twenty. So the Suffragette Sisters will be greatly pleased to have ample supply for Saturday's London meeting . I have asked Dilly to see to it that the flags are packed carefully in my trunk which will be transported to London ahead of the meeting.'



Lady Betsey experienced a growing sense of exasperation. Politics was not her forte. She was puzzled by her daughter's seeming dedication to political engagement. Perhaps it's in her blood on her father's side, she reasoned.

Lady Betsey could wait no longer. 'And are you attending the London Ball with Le Marquis?,' Lady Betsey asked in a somewhat irritated tone.



'It depends Mama,' Lady Mathilde replied, 'it all depends on events and how they unfold on Saturday morning. The March begins on Saturday morning from Trafalgar Square at noon. Following our public marches, we are obliged, under our constitution, to hold an assessment meeting within twenty-four hours. All the Sisters may be unable to attend. So in my role as Chair, I will be obliged to attend, all or any gathering which may ensue. Mama, it is so exciting, especially when you, Mama display such a keen interest in events'.



Lady Betsey could feel her cheeks burning with anger. Careful not to let it show, she pressed her daughter further.



'My dear, will you be wearing the pink taffeta dress to the Ball or would the azure blue be more appropriate for Spring?' Betsey continued.

Before Mathilde had time to reply, Mathilde's Lady's maid, Dilly handed her a letter.

It bore Le Marquis's seal.



It read;



Dearest Mathilde,

I shall be in Norfolk on Wednesday evening March 8th , returning to London on Thursday morning. I am requesting the pleasure of your company for the journey to London on Thursday. You will be our guest at our family residence in London for the Spring Ball.

With kind regards Bisous

Marquis Gregoire



Lady Betsey waited anxiously to learn the contents of the letter.



'Gregoire wishes that I accompany him to London ahead of the ball,' Lady Mathilde stated.

'But that doesn't quite fit with my plans. The Suffragette Sisters are expecting me to be at HQ on Thursday night. I shall have to advise Gregoire that I am unable to accept his offer to join him on the journey to London.



Lady Betsey intervened, ' But you may still travel down by carriage with Marquis Gregoire on Thursday, after all your political appointment is not until later that evening.'

Lady Mathilde was by now irate:

'Mama, how could you possibly understand, what do you know about politics? After all you spent your life with papa, preparing afternoon tea and awaiting his return from his many and varied clandestine outings?'


Lady Betsey was in shock. Never before had her daughter ever made reference to her father's absences. In fact, Lady Betsey assumed that both her children had accepted absence, in the case of papa, be it long or short, as an integral part of family life.



Lady Betsey glanced through the window of the morning room only to see her husband disappear into the distance en route to the weekly hunt. How often she had watched this scene unfold, not quite knowing what it might mean. Now here was her grown up daughter challenging the very fundamentals of their family life and how it unfolded, as she was growing up.

Lady Betsey, at that moment, felt as if she had caught a glimpse of a new world order, one that would no longer accept the status quo and one in which men and women would be equal players on the stage. It was though, somewhat unimaginable in her patriarchal, aristocratic milieu.

Lady Mathilde hastened to her boudoir to write an immediate reply to Marquis Gregoire:



My dearest Marquis,

I shall be honoured to accept your invitation to accompany you to London on ThursdayMarch 9th. I shall, thereby, arrive early at Suffragette HQ.

Lady Mathilde

Thursday morning dawned with a few snow flurries. Marquis Gregoire's carriage drew up slowly in front of Briarly Hall. Lady Betsey waved goodbye to her daughter as the carriage set off.

How different they look, Lady Betsey mused to herself, the horses seemed so well turned out than carriage horses at Briarly Hall. The carriage door handles glinted in the Spring sunshine.



Lady Betsey felt a frisson of hope as she listened to the fading clip-clop of horses hooves.