The Lowest Rung

Mary Cholmondeley begins this collection of four short stories by recalling the trouble readers caused her as a novelist. In a personal preface, she describes people who credited her books to men and neighbours who insisted that fictional characters were portraits of local acquaintances. Dinner parties, indignant letters and complaints from clergy become occasions for dry humour. Her account gives readers a close view of the suspicion and gossip that can surround the making of fiction.

The stories also offer a more anxious view of human judgment. In one tense scene, a woman watches through the night after taking in a wounded, exhausted man. Money hidden beneath a floor plank makes her fear the consequences of breaking a promise to her husband, while compassion keeps her concerned for her guest. The fire, clock and wooden walls fill the silence with small sounds. These details turn an act of kindness into a scene of uncertainty, showing how fear can compete with sympathy.