Mrs Elton gave a little cry of fear.
“But Miss Blenkinsop! It is said that Kate Fellowes has
TYPHUS
!” she said.
“Yes, that is quite true
,” said Prudence, “the rash is quite typical, Mr Perry says; I have not seen a case before so it is instructive to know what to recognise if indeed there is a serious outbreak as some predict. The poor girl is more comfortable in clean surroundings out of that awful cottage.”
“But – Miss Blenkinsop! You have not been so thoughtless as to have her taken
to Hartfield? The
risk
to Mr Woodhouse! Why if he caught Typhus and died you would be almost a murderess! Or had you not considered that?”
Horror and spite warred on the face whose fortunate disposition of features was quickly becoming marred in its handsome looks for the disagreeable lines that slowly and imperceptibly were becoming etched upon it.
“Oh! What made you think I should do such a thing? Cousin George has loaned outbuildings on his land as a place to take her,” said Prudence. “I take every precaution of hygiene for Uncle Henry’s good health; you need not fear. I shall wash and change my clothing before I return to Hartfield; as Mr Perry does when he has been to see infectious patients. I take his advice most seriously.”
“You mean you have not yet washed and changed?” said Mrs Elton nervously. Prudence, who had meant that she would do so a second time, smiled brightly and moved towards her holding out a hand.
“You will perhaps as the vicar’s wife wish to come and visit poor Kate as one of the sick of the parish,” she said, “and of course you and your husband will remember her in your prayers.”
“My goodness! It is getting on – I must hurry home or my
caro sposo
will indeed wonder what has become of me!” declared Mrs Elton, “naturally we shall pray for the poor girl’s recovery!”
She rushed passed Prudence a fast as she might without running.
Prudence sat on a stile and laughed until the tears ran down her face.
That
had refreshed her quite as much as the walk; and when she went back and shared it with Alverston he laughed too, for Prudence had told him about Mrs Elton.
Kate tossed in fever for another full week round; and Alveston and Prudence met at her bedside. As neither showed any signs of symptoms they became less cautious though they did not reduce the strict hygiene regimen. They sat together however and talked; Alverston described his lands to her and she spoke of her interest in her father’s business; and he told her how his man in Lincolnshire was doing with covering some of the spring cereals with glass, planted too close, that might perhaps be thinned later if the weather improved, extra work for the labourers but for the chance of a fair harvest work they would willingly undertake. In return she explained what George had done with his land, and too encouraged Robert Martin, his tenant, to do; they raised but little wheat anyway, so George was growing oats for their hardiness instead and concentrating on raising the strawberries for which Donwell was justly famed under glass as a crop likely to pay well enough to bring in enough to cover the extra cost of wheat and bread.
“Abbey Mill Farm – which is rented by Mr Martin – has at the farmhouse a fine big summer house and George has persuaded Mr Martin to give that over to growing strawberries too, to increase his own income so that George will not feel that he is dunning him over the rent,” said Prudence. “Most of his farming efforts are in a fine big flock of sheep, and in cattle; which will not
thrive
through the cold, but with turnips laid down will not starve, even if the grass and clover are not of the best. And it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good for the sheep have thicker and longer fleeces than usual which is an asset, though Mr Martin has delayed shearing them
until he is certain it will not kill any of them with a sudden
hard frost. As has William Larkins on behalf of George’s flock. There were losses amongst the lambs born this year
,” she added soberly, “and that will reduce the profit from wool next year because the first shearing of a yearling brings almost twice as much weight of wool as subsequent shearings.”
“I too have sheep
,” said Alverston, “though I fancy as you know them from the weaving side we may have much to learn from each other.”
“Oh I am looking forward to spending my life learning from you and perhaps being able to tell you some things too!” said Prudence.
The conversation was somewhat curtailed whilst they occupied themselves with tender kisses.
Mrs Elton’s tongue had been busy in the village.
Apart from her fright over Prudence’s exposure to the dread disease she had assimilated – and later realised that she had assimilated – the fact that George Knightley had rented Donwell to someone referred to as ‘Lord Alverston’. This was a marvellous piece of gossip; though to add too that Miss Blenkinsop was selfishly risking her family in the nursing of Kate Fellowes could not be resisted. Indeed Mrs Elton asked Emma in spurious regard for her health if SHE were also involved in so risky a venture.
Emma smiled brightly.
“Well I would have been under normal circumstances; for it is only Christian to aid the sick, is it not? But as Mr Knightley and I are anticipating a Happy Event it would be an undue risk of my health. Naturally we are supportive of Cousin Prudence and her betrothed in this matter. He is quite immune to the disease as he has already suffered it when serving in the Peninsular War where privations were common; and he ensures that Prudence takes every precaution.
Naturally he takes the night watch so that
Prudence may be at home under the roof of Hartfield in the hours of darkness
,” and she smiled brightly. “It is good of them, is it not, that they see but little of each other for nursing this poor girl, that they give up their time together; but as a vicar’s wife of course you understand such dutiful charity.”
Nobody could smile with more false brightness than Emma when she put her mind to it; and put her mind to it she did.
Oddly, Mrs Elton had not put together the visit of Lord Alverston and the incidence of Prudence having a betrothed. In her mind, Prudence was a nasty girl from dubious Northern origins who wasted her time and her money – such a
scandalous
amount of money that Augusta Elton could have found other uses for – in London who had doubtless contracted a betrothal with some army doctor, who might even have been a horse doctor before turning to the soldiery’s ills, and who was doubtless wasting his time on a female like the Fellowes girl because he could not attract decent folk as his patients. It had been said that Miss Blenkinsop had visited Mr Perry with a shambling mound of a fellow, not dressed in a gentlemanly way at all – Augusta Elton interpreted such from the descriptions of a tall, broad man dressed soberly – so presumably the Blenkinsop female had endeavoured to foist this fellow onto Mr Perry as a partner and had been turned down, so he took on this hopeless case that in the unlikely event Kate Fellowes should survive he would claim it as due to his cures. And shabby of the fellow to involve his betrothed; and foolish of Miss Blenkinsop to permit him to do so!
She dropped in to take a dish of tea with Mrs and Miss Bates, for Miss Bates was the biggest gossip in the village and would be sure to know all that was to be known about this Lord! So far as Miss Blenkinsop and her betrothed Mrs Elton did not care; Prudence was of no account to her. Emma’s news was of course worth passing on; and that too she resolved to do.
It so happened that the servants at Hartfield, beyond Cowley, Jennifer and Prudence’s own servants, knew very little about Lord Alverston; and Cowley was discreet as were the personal maids of Prudence and Emma; and if Joseph had ever changed his nature to gossip it would be doubtful that the other servants in Highbury would have understood his thick Yorkshire brogue in any case. Thus the fact that Miss Prudence and Lord Alverston were betrothed was not yet an occurrence about which the servants gossiped; which meant that no such news had spread to Miss Bates either, for the Hartfield residents were keeping the news quiet. Especially, as Emma said to George on returning angrily from her encounter with Mrs Elton, in light of that spiteful tabby’s nasty tongue.
As for
the servants and others at Donwell, William Larkins was close mouthed and uncommunicative to all; even cross grained in his apparently surly nature to any but those he called friend. He was accounted a good friend by Miss Bates however and had confided that Lord Alverston was a decent man and knew what he was talking about and had recommended that he, William, and his own Bailiff should have much to talk about if his lordship might arrange it. Gervase has spoken pleasantly and knowledgeably to Mr Larkins and impressed that taciturn man greatly; and so William Larkins was more than ready to mind his own business so far as My Lord’s acts of kindness to that wretched girl Kate were concerned and to stay mumchance about his kisses with Miss Prudence who was a nicely spoken young lady who had, according to Mr Knightley, been the one to come up with using glass to improve the chance of getting any crop this year.
As for Mrs Hodges, she posi
tively adored his lordship.
she
knew how matters stood between My Lord and Miss Prudence; but fond as she was of a good long talk, there were things that were other folk’s business, and My Lord had asked her to be discreet and discreet she knew how to be. Especially for such a lovely pair, putting themselves
out for the daughter of that worthless couple. And Kate the best of the bunch of that family, taking odd jobs here and there to bring in more money because her worthless mother would not let her go into honest service, claiming that she needed her at home helping with the laundry. My Lady Alverston taking her into service would be a different matter; Mrs Hodges had no doubt that Miss Prudence, whether married or no at the time, would rout Mrs Fellowes horse and foot whatever that may mean but it sounded decisive!
She spoke enthusiastically of My Lord of course; and that much had reached Miss Bates.
“It is wonderful, is it no
t, Mrs Elton to have a real
Lord
staying in our little village?” she said “Of course none of us have
seen
anything of him yet, but Mrs Hodges says he is a fine, well set up and
handsome
fellow, if a little
dark
of complexion for true beauty; and we have besides received a letter from dear Jane whose Frank has
heard
of Alverston and declared him a very arbiter of fashion in London, one of the wealthiest people! And he is a
marquess
and though we do not precisely understand what that means, mother and I, we believe it to be one of the more
superior
kinds of aristocracy. Is it not exciting news?”
“It is indeed” said Mrs Elton, who had a fair idea of the precedence of the aristocracy. If the Marquess might be induced to meet her husband, attend church perhaps, and see what a fine and well educated man Philip Elton was, there might be a sinecure of a living to be had from it. “And have you heard Emma Knightley’s news?”
“What, is there any problem with her pregnancy?” asked Miss Bates “For I have not heard anything but that she is blooming; I SAID MOTHER THAT EMMA IS BLOOMING,” she added loudly as the old woman cupped her ear.
Mrs Elton felt sour; that news had reached her last even though from Emma herself!
In point of fact Emma had told Miss Bates herself; on the principle that such meant that it would shortly be all around the village without Emma having the embarrassment of having to discuss it. Miss Bates’ vulgarity and lack of embarrassment over such things had its uses. Naturally she had told her dear Mrs Weston first; but for the rest let them chew over the news until it was stale enough that any changes to her figure would be but old news and not worth mentioning.
Emma, it has to be said, might not have thought of the idea on her own had she not been agonising over who to let know and what gossip might say; and George had laughingly suggested telling Miss Bates as an unofficial town crier.
Emma had thought it a quite brilliant idea.
She would have thought it still more brilliant had she known that being behind with the news had left Augusta Elton with bile rising at the thought. And needing for courtesy’s sake to stay and listen to Miss Bates repeat over and over what dear Jane had written and then repeat all twice or thrice loudly for the sake of her deaf mother.
Chapter 31
It must not be supposed that Mr Alver was not also subject to the gossip of the village; because he was. So youthful and friendly a young man however – for he had carried bags for Miss Bates among other small kindnesses – received only the most kindly of gossip; and it was generally supposed that he was some protégé of Mr Knightley, staying with him as a favour to a father or, as he had mentioned an uncle, some other guardian. Indeed Mr Alver had endeared himself entirely when he had taken groceries in his phaeton, which was worthy of gossip itself, to Mr Weston’s old nurse just because Mr Weston had mentioned in his hearing that she was feeling a little low in this weather and should ha
ve such delivered for her. Mr Alver had offered straight away to deliver anything that was needed and claimed that his horses needed the exercise in any case. Everyone knew that Mr Weston would have cheerfully undertaken this small chore himself; but that Mr Alver was so ready to do so spoke well of his sweetness of character, just like Mr Frank Churchill!