Clothes Maketh The Man — Part 54.

There is something wholesome and rejuvenating about hard physical labour. The three of us worked hard all morning in the stable block and between us we mucked out five well kept stables. With only a short break we worked together, all three of us methodically cleaning each stall and refreshing the straw, and filling the feed buckets.

Outside the stable block several horses grazed in a field, and in the bright morning sunlight the scene had an idyllic quality. In fact, were it not for the three slightly mannish gurls working just a little too quietly together one might be tempted to think this was a scene of peaceful utopia. It was the small details that made it all so disturbing. For example, 30 was chattering in hushed tones to our other companion, while I worked silently finding it wisest to just observe the situation. When we heard the sound of footsteps on the gravel outside all conversation stopped and as I watched the other two gurls I saw how suddenly intense and studious they looked about there work.

A moment later Mrs. Gravely appeared and walked quietly into the stables, her back ramrod straight, and clasping a riding crop nonchalantly. She eyed each of us in turn and looked at the stables we’d cleaned with an approving eye. 30 seemed to be working with increased intensity, avoiding looking at Mrs. Gravely. I sensed her fear.