Cousin Prudence (31 page)

“My Lord; my husband and I made our pile the hard way, and in no wise does one make a fortune without learning discretion
,” said Mrs Cole.

Gervase bowed to her from the waist where he was sat.

“I apologise, Mrs Cole,” he said, “I should have thought.”

Mr Woodhouse and Isabella were talking of being conveyed back to Hartfield; and though Mr Woodhouse admitted to being fatigued, he also declared that he had enjoyed himself heartily and would not fear to go again to so comfortable a home with such fine yet digestible meals.

“For,” he said, “Hartfield does suffer from the draughts of having been built in an earlier age; so fine and modern a building as the Coles have had built for them is full of every modern convenience; and the screen is an excellent one.  John, you shall procure a similar for me when you have returned to London.”

“Why Mr Woodhouse, if you will not mind it being a trifle old fashioned, I fancy I have just the screen for you at Alverston
,” said Gervase, “it was my dear mother’s; decorated after the Chinese fashion and it will suit marvellously I do believe with the furnishings you have in the parlour – it will match most excellently with the lacquered knee desk.”

“You are very good, Lord Alverston!” declared Mr Woodhouse, gratified.

“I wish you will drop the ‘Lord’ Mr Woodhouse,” said Gervase, “In time I may be just your nephew Gervase too; and I shall then be calling you Uncle Henry if you will permit the liberty!”

“Why I think that would be most excellent!” said Mr Woodhouse. “I shall lose a dear niece when I have just found her, but perhaps you may visit often enough to an old man that I may feel I have gained a nephew!”

“Donwell will always be at your disposal,” said George, “to stay in whenever you feel so inclined.”

“And I thank you for that
,” said Gervase, “it is largely Tudor, is it not? All those fine big oriel windows of the frontage of red brick; the large forward sweeping wings and the brick gothic porch with its rising finials are quite characteristic.  And those magnificent chimneys!  They always make me think of twisted sugar sticks such as one might find at fairs.”

“The main frontage was built new when the Abbey was dissolved by Henry VIII
,” said George, “though I believe it was completed in Edward VI’s time, which accounts for the fancy and entirely unnecessary chimney-like finials on the porch.  There is allegedly a secret panel in the room over the porch; John and I used to spend long hours looking for it when it was wet outside.”

“The panels are amusing in being  painted as scenes of the classics, are they not?” said Gervase
, “and unlike the linenfold panelling over the rest of the building.”

“I believe they were taken from an earlier building
,” said George, “and most of the rear of the building is in the stone from the old Abbey building, partly made use of as it stood and partly robbed out to rebuild.  I like the way the history of the building may be gained by walking through it, the most modern era with the porch, and going back in time to the great medieval refectory and kitchen that is the province of the servants.”

“It is most fascinating to consider it in those terms – a walk through time
,” said Gervase, “I shall traverse its history when I return and reflect upon it.”

“The Tudors did a great deal with brickwork
,” said Mr Cole, “but for me the elegant simplicity of Hartfield is preferable; it is Queen Anne, is it not, Mr Woodhouse?”

“Part of the original structure was begun in the reign of James II, replacing the earlier timber house
,” said Mr Woodhouse proudly, “and I reject the claims of my grandfather, who wrote a history of the house, that it was build on the proceeds of piracy from an ancestor who was transported rather than executed by Judge Jeffreys for

being involved with the Monmouth uprising; dear me no, Woodhouses have never been involved in anything so irregular!  My grandfather was a fanciful man.  I daresay that the money came from ve
ntures backing the colonies in some foreign parts and nothing more out of the way than that!”

“Oh I don’t know
,” said George, “it might explain why small Henry gets into so many scrapes.”

“Henry does NOT get into scrapes!” Isabella ruffled up at this comment like a protective mother hen ruffling her feathers.

George opened his mouth and shut it again.

He had already taken his slipper to Henry for leading his brother John into playing a complex game that involved capturing one of the smallest boarders at Mrs Goddard’s and tying her up as a princess to be rescued from a dragon – John did a manful job as a dragon draped in an old olive baize coat – which, as George had said to Henry, would not have been a problem if only his princess had been a willing participant in the game and why had he not involved Bella.  As the explanation was that Bella did not want to be a princess and was liable to bite if tied up George read Henry a homily on gentleness to ladies and asking first.  Henry had minded the second part of George’s imposed punishment most, the writing of a letter of apology to his princess, taking the slippering as fair enough  punishment for upsetting the silly girl.

Still, the punishment had been given and there was no point dragging it up and having poor Henry having to listen to his mother being disappointed in him. John’s look suggested that George’s brother would have the story out of him at some point; but John would accept that the incident was done with and let it lie.

“No chance then of pirate gold buried on your lands?” asked Mr Cole jovially.

“Oh NO indeed!” said Mr Woodhouse.

“Splendid way to keep the children occupied though
,” said George, thoughtfully, “If I draw a treasure map for

them to find, it will also improve their understanding of geography no end.”

“But George, they will be disappointed to find nothing!” cried Isabella.

“Do you think me so cruel?” said George “I shall bury them a treasure; some coins that they can spend and a few tawdry pieces of jewellery that they can make up stories about, and if Emma will paint one for me, a portrait of a bold, bad pirate ancestor.”

“But we have no pirate ancestor!” cried Mr Woodhouse.

“And when they are old enough to recognise the style of their Aunt Emma’s painting they will realise that for themselves
,” said George, “e              ven as Henry probably will for having coins of today; he’s a sharp lad.  But they will have the fun of the hunt and some reward for their diligence in pursuing it, and a little bit of pretence in their play.  Do you recall, John, how we turned the punt into a pirate ship?  It was that hot summer and we took turns to walk the plank.  We must
not
tell them about that,” he added as John grinned in recollection, “for this summer is too inclement and it would rightly worry poor Isabella.”

“Indeed yes! Or at any time!” cried Isabella “They would drown for sure!”

“Nonsense my dear,” said John, “we sailed the seas of the Langley Walk Pond which is no more than two feet deep.  But George is right; they would likely catch a chill,” he added regretfully, for John was not one to wrap his children up in cotton.

The d
inner party broke up reluctantly and the Hartfield party were tenderly ensconced with their hot bricks and blankets and an assurance from Mr Woodhouse that he had much enjoyed himself and would certainly come again now he was certain that he had taken no ill from the excursion.  As they were conveyed back with no mishap and Emma made him a thin gruel for supper with her own hands he continued in this train of mind and went to bed quite heartened.

Chapter 38

The next excitement in Highbury was the arrival of a whole cavalcade of coaches coming to Donwell.  Gervase had asked Georgiana to arrange servants to help out to make sure the ball went smoothly; the few servants George kept would be sadly overworked otherwise.  He had asked Georgiana to be sure and bring servants who would not take offence at being under Mrs Hodges as he would not insult that good woman by taking away her authority; but he had asked Mrs Hodges to be in charge of running the house and all over matters and resign her place in the kitchen to a cook and his undercooks who were used to catering for great numbers, and who might therefore release Mrs Hodges for the other essential tasks.

Mrs Hodges, who had half expected him to bring in his own comptroller to run the house for so extensive a ball as seemed proposed, was much flattered to be trusted with the task and intended that all would go smoothly!  Having of a sudden a dozen footmen to aid poor clumsy Harry and as many girls, and instructions to hire as many from the village and surroundings as maids of all work almost flustered her; but the good Mrs Hodges rose to the occasion.  And Lady Greyling seemed as pleasant a young woman as Mrs Emma herself, and her husband amiable too and if the children could be young limbs, why that was the nature of children and they were obedient enough to their governess, an excellent woman named Miss Henderson who ruled them with a mix of kindness and a rod of iron and welcomed the Knightley children to join in with lessons and play both with her charges. And in the Honourable Helen Wrexham, a sturdy maiden of eight, Henry Knightley found a kindred spirit quite ready to engage in playing at being a princess and complaining merely that princesses ought to be allowed to fight with swords too.  Roger was permitted to join John, his senior by almost a year, in minor roles in the play; Hermione, the same age as small George and a year younger than Bella,

was happy to be relegated to less boisterous nursery games under the firm control of Miss Henderson and a veritable army of nursery maids. 

Diana was above such games of course though sometimes she interfered enough to tell the younger ones what to do; and privately confessed that if William had not been at school they would very likely have joined in.

Searching for treasure occupied most of the efforts of these intrepid infants however, Gervase having also contributed towards the treasure and having managed to ingeniously age the treasure map by soaking it in tea and singeing the edges and helping George to write rhyming clues.

“Really Gervase, I don’t know who is enjoying this the more, the children or you and Cousin George,” said Georgiana indulgently, “I may call you Cousin George may I not?  I hate unnecessary ceremony.”

“I should be honoured, Cousin Georgiana
,” said George.  “I fancy Gervase and I are having the best fun now you come to mention it.”

“It keeps them from inconveniencing Mrs Hodges
,” Gervase made excuse; then grinned, “and it is fun.”

Prudence had been taken firmly for a walk by Diana or she too would have helped with the clues; but there was something on Diana’s mind.

“Would you be offended, Aunt Pru, if I did not much want to be a bridesmaid for you and Uncle Gervase?” asked Diana, “I am afraid I should be very out of place; I am what Aunt Mouser calls gawky and I am never going to be a beauty and I would be most embarrassed.”

“Why Diana, I should not be offended
,” said Prudence, “I should however be much disappointed; because one’s friends are the people one wants at one’s wedding, and you are one of my dear friends!”

Diana blushed.

“Truly?  Although you are a grown up lady?”

“Oh yes, Diana; because when you are yourself a grown up lady you will see that there is very little difference between us in age by then.  If you really do not wish to be a bridesmaid then I will accept that; but I do not believe you will look anything but lovely, because you will be happy for us; and happy people are more beautiful than those with perfect features who are discontented.  And I have always been gawky you know; it is only in the last year that I have learned to move with elegance.  So if you are not sure where your feet are, be certain that I shall not regard it in the least.”

Diana flung her arms round Prudence.

“You are the BEST aunt in the world!” she declared
, “and I shall then be your bridesmaid and I won’t fall over my own feet or if I do, if you don’t mind I shall not either!”

“And you will not
; because you do not have to worry about it,” assured Prudence.

“I shall not then have to continue to pester Uncle Gervase to teach me to drive Unicorn then
,” said Diana with a sigh of relief, “because Mama said he would not permit me to cry off so I thought I might negotiate that if I gave up the idea of wanting to drive unicorn he would give up the idea of having me as a bridesmaid.”

“Darling, Gervase would not make you be a bridesmaid if he thought it would make you unha
ppy in any case!” said Prudence, “but it will be splendid if you are.  What colour would you like to wear?”

Diana gasped.

“You will not make me wear white muslin?”

“I will be happy for you to wear any colour you like
,” said Prudence recklessly.

“Oooh!  Then may I wear red?  Deep red?”

“Oh, in velvet; that will be quite charming!” said Prudence, “and it will suit Bella too and Helen and Hermione; or shall they have white trimmed with red and you as chief bridesmaid in red with white ribbon roses that I shall make?”

“Oh YES!” cried Diana.