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Angela Margaret Thirkell
Published by Good Press, 2021
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Here lived Miss Cowshay, a very efficient secretary of the Hogglestock Rolling Mills, foundation of the wealthy ironmaster Mr. Adams’s fortunes.
“Well, Miss Merriman, this is my lucky day,” said Miss Cowshay. “I didn’t know you were here. Do sit down and we’ll have some coffee,” and she pressed a buzzer on her desk and ordered two coffees. “We were all ever so sorry you hadn’t been well and I hope your visit to Lady Graham has done you good. But I needn’t ask that. I saw the notice about your engagement in The Thunderer. Mr. Adams likes me to go through the social columns for him every day. My cousin that’s on the Barchester Chronicle wrote an ever so nice piece about Mr. Choyce. I’ll send it to you. I was passing the remark to Miss Carton of the Costing Department at lunch only last week it did seem a shame you hadn’t a home of your own. Oh, I’m ever so glad. But we’ll miss you here, you know. Really, with Mr. Adams and Mr. Macfadyen and Mr. Pilward it all seems like one large family, and we’d got quite used to you being with Lady Pomfret and we shall miss you quite a lot.”
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