Prudence gasped.
“What is it?” asked Emma.
Prudence read the sentence out loud.
“Pru! Was that a proposal?” squealed Emma in delight, “oh how
romantic
!”
“I – I’m not sure if it’s a proposal or not
,” said Prudence faintly, “you see, he’s never asked me face to face; but how
like
Alverston to almost take something as a
fait accompli
like that! And it’s not in the least romantic; Alverston is not you know.”
George chuckled.
“I did ask his intentions and he said he was making up his mind,” he said, “so I was leaving him to do so; it seems to me that if he is revealing his heart by writing just as he thinks – even if he has forgotten that he did not get around to asking you – then he has made up his mind. So long as you are happy to have him?”
Prudence flushed and went white and flushed again; and nodded with an unwonted lack of anything to say.
“You had better finish the letter,” said Emma, “it may contain conditions like how many colts he expects you to help break every year.”
That turned Prudence’s shock to laughter and she read on,
“…..battles royal, because I am not I think as good natured and compliant a man as are my brothers-in-law. I should not like to be run by my wife but nor should I like a compliant widgeon who has no mind of her own. Visiting your father for your peace of mind gives me the opportunity to make myself known to him also. I beg your pardon Pru, I did not mean to mention anything personal in this letter but it seems that I miss your face and voice and sharp funning tongue more than I realised. And the post is about to go so I cannot write another more properly impersonal missive. Pray take care of yourself; I shall return when I may. I remain your humble servant, Gervase Alver”
“Ooh
,” said Prudence. “I believe, dear Emma, I shall ring to have a cup of tea.”
“The best thing under the circumstances
,” said Emma in approval.
“He writes that his secretary, Mr Paulson will be seeing to setting up soup kitchens as famine and disease seem likely
,” said Prudence, “when I have drunk my tea if George will loan me his escort I shall step round to Bloomsbury Square and contribute towards the venture.”
“I should like to do so too
,” said Emma, “let us all go! Alverston is good to think of such things.”
“I am not sure we should remain in
London if there is disease,” said George, “even if we are not likely to be in contact with such, it would worry your poor papa, Emma.”
“Alverston said it seemed to be everywhere
,” said Prudence, blushing as she mentioned the Marquess.
“We shall stay until he returns
,” decided Emma, “and then when you have spoken with him we shall cut the season short.”
Chapter 23
After having spoken to Mr Paulson, a serious minded young man who was looking forward to fulfilling the commission for his employer, Prudence asked if she and the Knightleys might look at Alverston’s library as he had himself suggested it.
It was a magnificent room filled with books to the ceiling; and Emma’s eyes sparkled.
Diana was already there.
“Hello Aunt Prudence” she said, rising to make her curtsey. “You ARE going to be my Aunt, are you not? I asked Uncle Gervase and he damned me as an impudent brat and said he had half a mind to spank me, so I took that as a yes.”
“You are an impudent brat
,” said Prudence, “and most ladies wait for a formal proposal before admitting to anything so momentous as a possible aunthood.”
“You mean he hasn’t come up to scratch?” said Diana in disgust “Well of all the shabby behaviour! I expect however he will do soon.”
“I think that it would be improper to speculate,” said Prudence. “Men are such strange entities, Diana, as no doubt you will find out for yourself in a few years.”
“Oh I am not going to marry
,” said Diana, tossing her dark locks “I plan to be an authoress and write books about strong women that do not need husbands.”
Emma laughed gently.
“Why so too thought I,” she said, “but then I realised that there were such men as were strong enough to be perfect partners to their wives, where equality might reign in marriage; and so I married Mr Knightley.”
Diana considered, eating the end of her long plait in contemplation.
“Well, I think Mr Knightley is probably an excellent example of a true gentleman who is an exception to the rule,” she said, “and if you do marry Uncle Gervase, Aunt
Prudence, he is a fine sort of uncle so I should think he will also be an adequate sort of husband. And mama says the two of you are going around smelling of April and May
,” she added as a clincher.
The Knightley ménage did not cry off such engagements as they had already accepted; for besides there was Miss Bullivant to consider.
“I have to say,” Emma confided to George, “Clara Bullivant would make a most suitable husband for Mr Paulson.”
George held up a warning finger.
“Emma! You have promised never to interfere again with matchmaking!” he said sternly, “you are letting feelings of nest building cloud your judgement!”
Emma sighed.
“You are right as always dear Mr Knightley,” she said. “I promise I shall try not to even
think
about it.”
“My dear Mrs Knightley, that is a very good plan
,” said George.
Invitations had flowed thick and fast after the Knightleys had been given the seal of approval not merely by Almack’s but by Lady Katherine; who may not come much to town these days but who was an acknowledged arbiter of taste as well as being intimately attached to a prominent and fashionable family like that of the Marquess of Alverston.
It had been Prudence’s idea to ask Lady Katherine’s advice about which invitations to accept and which to reject; and she enjoyed as much listening to the old lady’s diatribes on certain of those who tendered their invitations as to listening to a satire at the theatre; and said as much, which pleased Lady Katherine mightily.
“You are a good girl,” she said, “I can’t think what Gervase is being so slow for, he never used to be a bacon-brained slow-top!”
Prudence flushed.
“He…. He has made a certain intimation to me in a letter,” she said.
“In a LETTER? Gadzooks, the boy has run insane…..he’s scarcely literate at the best of times, comes of going to
Oxford; my father went to Cambridge and he wrote a very pretty hand indeed. Mind you, that was illegible,” she added, “too much education addles the brains of young men; they should educate the women and make the men do the honest toil. You’re laughing at me girl.”
“I was thinking how closely that view tallies with that of Diana
,” said Prudence, “and I have been fairly well educated; I speak French tolerably, Italian passably, I know some mathematics and I also know how gas lighting works. I can discourse in a way that sounds intelligent on the artists of the Renaissance and their art and with debate and interest on underdraining, though that education is largely down to Cousin George, who is a most practical man despite his own sojourn in college.”
“Well I approve of Mr Knightley
,” said Lady Katherine. “You’ll get more use from understanding gas lighting and underdraining than from Italian painters who were by all accounts distinctly loose in the haft and not the sort of people to be spoken about in mixed company. You should not say loose in the haft by the way; I’m old enough to get away with riper language than you and have it put down merely to eccentricity.”
“I do love you, Lady Katherine
,” said Prudence, “you are most splendidly natural.”
“There now child; and you may as well call me Aunt Mouser
,” said Lady Katherine, “in private, mind, until Gervase stops shilly-shallying like a virgin verging on misbehaving! Now you are blushing; well you must get used to me!”
“Oh I shall enjoy doing so, Aunt Mouser, I assure you
,” said Prudence, “and I was blushing because I was contemplating – if that was what he had asked – being his mistress.”
“Well!” said Aunt Mouser “I should hope Gervase
has more sense than to make
that
suggestion; hold out for nothing less than marriage my dear.”
“I am glad you are not shocked
,” said Prudence, “and he has made an oblique suggestion that marriage was in his mind.”
“
How
like a man,” said Aunt Mouser. “Sandwiched between a discussion of HIS drains and the price of wheat in Lincolnshire no doubt.”
Prudence chuckled.
“Very nearly,” she said.
“Then depend upon it Gervase loves you; he would never discus
s serious matters like his land with any woman he did not; and to include even an oblique proposal therein shows that he thinks of you as lady of his acres,” said Aunt Mouser.
The beautiful Elvira was still much in evidence in society; and Emma overheard a conversation that she would have moved away to avoid hearing had her moving not been likely to cause embarrassment. Emma was sat on the balcony outside a French window of a ballroom for the press of people had made her hot and a little giddy; and George had gone to procure her refreshment. A large potted fern hid her from sight.
The voices she heard were those of Lady Elvira and Georgiana
, Lady Greyling.
“Georgie! I have scarcely seen you!” complained Lady Elvira “I have not yet had a satisfactory answer about where Gervase might be!”
“Oh? I understood that Arthur provided you with a flippant, but nonetheless accurate answer that Alverston is in Lincolnshire undertaking certain measures to render his
harvest more likely to survive despite the inclement weather
,” said Georgiana.
“Doesn’t he have a bailiff to do that sort of thing?” demanded Elvira.
“He is implementing some new innovations,” said Georgiana, “and making sure his tenants will be well provided for.”
“Why?” demanded Elvira “They’re only peasants; what interest can he have in them?”
There was a long and speaking silence.
“Do you know, Elvira
,” said Georgiana, “I found you a fascinating girl at school; but you have become quite grasping and selfish. Perhaps you always were. Gervase is interested in his tenants because they are his dependants; because he is who he is. Anyone who cannot grasp that has no business being anywhere near him.”
There was an angry titter.
“Come now, Georgiana, I’m only waiting for him to pop the question” said Elvira.
“Really Elvira? Then you will wait a long time. I know Gervase’s intended bride and somehow I cannot see him changing his mind in a hurry.”
“That’s a hum; he broke off the engagement with poor little Kitty.”
“Oh yes; it was not Kitty to whom I referred. But as you might recall I AM Gervase’s favourite sister to whom he talks; and so I do know what I am talking about.”
“Then why has the girl not screeched her triumph from the treetops?” asked Elvira.
“How vulgar you are Elvira!” said Georgiana
, “because
she
is a lady of perfect propriety; and because she awaits for Gervase to return from setting his affairs in order, and speaking formally to her father before making a formal proposal. Now I suggest you retire to a bedroom and put your face in order; you look like a Billingsgate fishwife who has just had a wrangle with a rival.”
There was the sound of a flounce.
Georgiana followed George round the palm as he came with a glass of lemonade.
“I do apologise, Emma, that you had to hear that
,” she said.
“I was afraid of causing embarrassment if I tried to leave
,” said Emma.
“Beware of Elvira; I had no intention of mentioning Pru to her
,” said Georgiana, “she is spiteful if thwarted I fear.”
“Thank you” said Emma. “I shall most certainly bear that in mind.”
Prudence meanwhile was receiving her first standard proposal of marriage from a stammering and besotted Philip Puckeridge. The young Cornet had asked her to walk out of another of the big French windows to talk with him and went down on one knee to stumble through his declaration of love.
“How very flattering!” cried Prudence unsure what else to say “But you should know that my heart is already engaged…. There is an understanding, but I must await and abide upon my father’s permission!”
“My heart is broken!” declared the young cornet “But I shall always worship you from afar, my dear Miss Blenkinsop!” he then added viciously
, “I only hope the fellow is tall enough not to make a mockery of you!”
“He is tall enough certainly, thank you
,” said Prudence, picturing the tall, broad figure of Gervase Alver of Alverston, into whose frame one might have fit two of the gangling cornet. One day this boy would meet a girl who would love him truly; and hopefully he might have filled out a little by then also!
In Alverston’s absence, the family tended to visit the Marquess’ library in the mornings when the dry fog was too unpleasant to venture out to any of the parks; which became something of a meeting place with Arthur, Clara, Diana and her mother and often enough Mr Penrose too,
who chatted much with Mr Paulson. George found himself designated as reader, for his excellent diction, and the little group clustered around him as he read out loud from ‘
Waverley’, holding his listeners spellbound over the adventures and misadventures of Edward Waverley and his inadvertent involvement with the rising of ’45 and his meeting with the Young Pretender. The way in which the author – rumoured to be Mr Walter Scott – made even the most minor and insignificant characters interesting and sympathetic was accounted by the group quite marvellous, and a masterpiece of tolerance for all conditions of the human race. The mornings were thus spent convivially and the reading group were most comfortable and friendly. Emma had invited the daughters of the house next door, on Georgiana’s say so – for not to ask the sister of the library’s owner would have been a great piece of impertinence, that taking Clara was not, for Alverston having commended her to Prudence’s good care – but those young ladies exclaimed in horror over something as strenuous as getting up early to listen to improving works being read when they might instead be planning more gaiety.
Emma apologised to Georgiana for even asking.
“They are complete pea-hens, Georgie dear,” she said.
Georgiana laughed.
“Why my dear Emma, I fear too many ladies are! It is why I am so happy to have almost secured dear Prudence as a sister-in-law; she is perfect for Gervase! And of lively enough spirit not to find Diana trying when she is at one of her Alver fits of contrariness.”
“Oh there is no vice in Diana!” laughed Emma who had not turned a hair to find a frog in an earthenware mug in the library that Diana was preparing to release into the garden after finding it on the road outside. Prudence had gone out with Diana to help dig a shallow scrape in the garden to muddy it well as a nice damp home for the frog,
near some laurel bushes. Diana loved all animals; and had been known to cry when next door’s cat caught and ate most of a bird.
“Do you suppose puss would desist if I read to her from the Bible to show her how we should love our neighbour?” she asked Prudence as they interred the remains with all due solemnity.
“It is puss’s nature to hunt,” said Prudence, “and she has been made that way by the Maker of all things; and to militate against such is to deny her nature. Cats keep down vermin; for if you consider how quickly mice may breed we should be as overrun by mice and rats as the people of Hamelin, who obviously had not very good cats that they needed the Pied Piper; and birds, too, often have two broods a year and if they all survived to eat all the grain, why then people would starve. It is all a balance; and though nobody can reasonably fault your compassion in rescuing such small creatures as you may, you should have equal compassion for puss, who is only doing the duty she was born to.”
Diana considered this; and sighed acquiescence.
“There are less wild creatures this horrid year though” she said.
“Yes; and all will suffer from this terrible time, including the predators who must eat meat
,” said Prudence. “Puss at least has some food given her; and she has eaten what she needs, not killed purely for sport.”
“Like the horrid cocking and badger baiting that some men like” said Diana.
“Exactly,” said Prudence. “I do not think your uncle would find such in any wise amusing.”
“Uncle Gervase snorts and says ‘panem et circenses’ which is Latin for bread and circuses, because of the Gladiatorial shows because small minded people enjoy seeing blood” said Diana.
“You would have thought they might be sated after this long war and be thankful to avoid it,” sighed Prudence.
“Aunt Mouser says that a lot of men had their brains left out when they were born” said Diana.
“Yes, but Aunt Mouser is not the most tolerant of people,” replied Prudence.
“I’m going to be just like Aunt Mouser when I grow up
,” said Diana.
“My dear, I am cer
tain that you will achieve
that
ambition” said Prudence, working on not laughing. Diana was bidding fair to be just like Aunt Mouser already!
Chapter 24
The next morning brought ill news as the group returned from the reading; it had become customary for Miss Bullivant and Arthur to return to the Knightley residence to eat nuncheon, and Arthur then saw Miss Bullivant back to the care of her aunt, who did not like to stir out into the fog if she could avoid it.
This morning as they returned the unmistakeable figure of John Knightley loomed out of the mist.
“George! I was wondering where I might find you!” he said “Dear Emma; Dear Prudence; your servant, sir, ma’am!”
“Let us get out of this fog, John
,” said George, “no need to risk taking a cough talking in it.”
John nodded and they hurried inside; John glanced at Arthur and Clara.
“Our friends are anticipating eating with us John,” said George, “you have urgent and by your face grave news?”
John nodded.
“If these are friends whom you will expect to see the news will be of some moment to them also,” he said, “because I must urge you to return to Hartfield straight away; poor papa Woodhouse is very poorly indeed.”
Emma gave a cry.
“Oh
poor
papa! Why, we must pack and leave immediately!”
“Emma, you will avail your father no good if you arrive fainting with hunger
,” said George, “we shall all eat nuncheon as we intended; John must be famished. And we will have to write letters to apprise people why we have been called out of town.”
“I must write to Alverston
,” said Prudence, “Georgie will take care of it and see he gets it; George will you oblige me by carrying it to her? And I should write to Diana for she is at an age that will be offended if left out.
Also
to Lady Jersey, who will not forgive a slight. Georgie will doubtless take care of informing everyone else on our behalf if you explain to her.”
“Excellently reasoned, Prudence; you shall be in charge of writing letters once we have eaten while Emma supervises packing
,” said George, “
no
argument John; you are quite done up from the ride! Sid down this instant – the ladies will I feel certain forgive your topboots and the mud of travel.”
“We are only sorry to be intruding in a time of trouble
,” said Clara, “Mr Alver and I should perhaps withdraw…”
“Not in the least, my dear Miss Bullivant
,” said George, kindly, “Nuncheon is already bespoken; it would be wasteful not to partake in it. John, how bad is papa?”
John gave a whimsical smile.
“Not so bad as he believes himself to be,” he said, “nor in as dire straits as Isabella would predict. Though I would like to get back before my beloved, but overly fretful, wife talks him into believing that he is dying. She is out of order cross with me because I told him that it was far too soon for him to stick his spoon in the wall.”
“
An invalid should be
humoured,
but I cannot see that it is wise to permit an excess of morbidity to enter the conversation,” said Emma a little uncertainly.
“Emma, your papa enjoys his ill health
,” said Prudence, “and whilst none of us feels any the less sympathetic that he is truly ill enough to bring dear Cousin John to collect us, it would be unwise to refine too much upon Cousin Isabella’s lurid imagination. Would you pass the ham please?”
“Well said, Cousin Prudence
,” said John. “I shall join you in the ham; now I smell food I am indeed in need of nourishment; and the pickles if you please, Emma. Mr Woodhouse has a nasty chill and a cough from the fog; and I have left him drinking violet syrup and taking steam inhalations. It is for his concern that I call you home more than any serious belief that his health, never mind his life,
are in any way in jeopardy! Forgive my lack of address, Mr Alver – whom I know – and Miss Bullivant.”
“Sir, you must always be concerned about family more than any mere visitors!” said Arthur.
“Indeed!” said Clara “I should be in a state if I though my poor papa were ill, though mother is most excellent in the sick room. You should see if he will fancy a restorative hart’s horn jelly, Mrs Knightley.”
“What an excellent idea, dear Clara,” said Emma, “I shall try that; and I shall make him a flummery.”
“Emma my dear, what is a flummery?” asked Prudence. Emma looked surprised.
“Why it is a set gruel, made by soaking oatmeal overnight and then boiling the strained liquor with sugar. The left-over oatmeal might then be used to thicken a stew of course.”
“Oh, I know that as sowens!” said Prudence.
“We have a sweetly pretty flummery dish to mould it in, it is from Staffordshire and has a raised bunch of grapes upon it with two leaves,” said Emma, “It was my grandmother’s. I generally colour the leaves with spinach and the grapes with black currant juice for I never permit cook to make papa’s flummery.”