who is her correspondent .’
He would wager that the latter would prove to be Lord Riseholm, otherwise why not have the letters sent directly to Thurlby Hall? And what might the young lady not be prepared topay to ensure that her host did not discover to whom she was writing? The whole business gave every evidence of being profitable enough to extract him from his immediate difficulties.
Had anyone challenged him on the morality of this plan, he would have defended himself stoutly. His motive was not greed; it was sheer survival, and his involvement of Miss Macclesfield would enable her to perform a noble act of charity, which would no doubt be good for her soul.
Mr Twizzle’s extremely pliable conscience having thus been assured of the merit of his enterprise, he left the inn, an angelic smile on his countenance.
As soon as Isobel had gone to her room, Lavinia began to think about Miss Wheatman, and soon started to feel guilty. On an impulse, she put her bonnet back on, collected a basket from the kitchen and headed for the meadow where they had last seen Miss Wheatman. Sure enough, she was still standing with her book in one hand and grasses in the other. Had Lavinia not noticed the position of the Hall with relation to that lady, she might have supposed that the spinster had not moved since they had last seen her.
‘Miss Wheatman,’ she called. ‘Have you found many? I have brought a trug basket for your specimens.’
Miss Wheatman looked up, her face alight with pleasure, and for a moment, Lavinia thought that she looked a little like Miss Tasker. ‘That is kind,’ she said, all at once making Lavinia feel guilty. ‘Where have you young ladies been? I thought that I made our plans quite clear yesterday, but you did not appear at breakfast or afterwards either.’
Lavinia made a sudden decision. ‘We did not like the idea of a competition, Miss Wheatman,’ she said placatingly. ‘Remember that we have come from London where ladies are for ever competing over who has the best bonnet or gown. What’s more, during the season one’s every activity runs to a timetable. Wewant to be a little more relaxed in the country. I hope you don’t mind.’
‘No, no,’ answered the other lady with a relieved smile. ‘I had the silliest notion that perhaps you were avoiding me.’
‘Not at all,’ replied Lavinia hastily, if not with perfect truth. ‘I had not realized that you wanted to set off straight after breakfast ; but I am here now, although sadly, Miss Macclesfield is not feeling well. Pray tell me, how is it that there are so many kinds of grass? I had thought that grass was just grass, but evidently that is not so.’
‘No indeed,’ replied Miss Wheatman. ‘Now look at this one.’
To her surprise, Lavinia found her interest captured, as much by Miss Wheatman’s enthusiasm as by the topic itself. Yet again, as the older lady compared two different kinds of grass, Lavinia was reminded of the time in the church that morning when Miss Tasker had drawn their attention to the different kinds of work on the brasses set in the church floor.
On impulse, she said, ‘Are you related to Miss Tasker, by any chance?’
‘She is my niece,’ replied Miss Wheatman, smiling delightedly. ‘Her mother is my sister. Now how did you guess that?’
‘We made her acquaintance when we called in at the church this morning,’ Lavinia explained. ‘There is a great likeness between you when you are absorbed in something that interests you.’
‘She is a dear girl,’ said Miss Wheatman, as they stood up, and began to assemble their specimens in the trug. ‘I am so happy that she is to marry Mr Ames. I must say, I had not thought that she ever would marry. She loves her work at the school, you see. But I am sure that she will enjoy the responsibilities that will come to her lot as the parson’s wife just as much.’
As Lavinia went inside thoughtfully, she decided that she would not share this conversation
He would wager that the latter would prove to be Lord Riseholm, otherwise why not have the letters sent directly to Thurlby Hall? And what might the young lady not be prepared topay to ensure that her host did not discover to whom she was writing? The whole business gave every evidence of being profitable enough to extract him from his immediate difficulties.
Had anyone challenged him on the morality of this plan, he would have defended himself stoutly. His motive was not greed; it was sheer survival, and his involvement of Miss Macclesfield would enable her to perform a noble act of charity, which would no doubt be good for her soul.
Mr Twizzle’s extremely pliable conscience having thus been assured of the merit of his enterprise, he left the inn, an angelic smile on his countenance.
As soon as Isobel had gone to her room, Lavinia began to think about Miss Wheatman, and soon started to feel guilty. On an impulse, she put her bonnet back on, collected a basket from the kitchen and headed for the meadow where they had last seen Miss Wheatman. Sure enough, she was still standing with her book in one hand and grasses in the other. Had Lavinia not noticed the position of the Hall with relation to that lady, she might have supposed that the spinster had not moved since they had last seen her.
‘Miss Wheatman,’ she called. ‘Have you found many? I have brought a trug basket for your specimens.’
Miss Wheatman looked up, her face alight with pleasure, and for a moment, Lavinia thought that she looked a little like Miss Tasker. ‘That is kind,’ she said, all at once making Lavinia feel guilty. ‘Where have you young ladies been? I thought that I made our plans quite clear yesterday, but you did not appear at breakfast or afterwards either.’
Lavinia made a sudden decision. ‘We did not like the idea of a competition, Miss Wheatman,’ she said placatingly. ‘Remember that we have come from London where ladies are for ever competing over who has the best bonnet or gown. What’s more, during the season one’s every activity runs to a timetable. Wewant to be a little more relaxed in the country. I hope you don’t mind.’
‘No, no,’ answered the other lady with a relieved smile. ‘I had the silliest notion that perhaps you were avoiding me.’
‘Not at all,’ replied Lavinia hastily, if not with perfect truth. ‘I had not realized that you wanted to set off straight after breakfast ; but I am here now, although sadly, Miss Macclesfield is not feeling well. Pray tell me, how is it that there are so many kinds of grass? I had thought that grass was just grass, but evidently that is not so.’
‘No indeed,’ replied Miss Wheatman. ‘Now look at this one.’
To her surprise, Lavinia found her interest captured, as much by Miss Wheatman’s enthusiasm as by the topic itself. Yet again, as the older lady compared two different kinds of grass, Lavinia was reminded of the time in the church that morning when Miss Tasker had drawn their attention to the different kinds of work on the brasses set in the church floor.
On impulse, she said, ‘Are you related to Miss Tasker, by any chance?’
‘She is my niece,’ replied Miss Wheatman, smiling delightedly. ‘Her mother is my sister. Now how did you guess that?’
‘We made her acquaintance when we called in at the church this morning,’ Lavinia explained. ‘There is a great likeness between you when you are absorbed in something that interests you.’
‘She is a dear girl,’ said Miss Wheatman, as they stood up, and began to assemble their specimens in the trug. ‘I am so happy that she is to marry Mr Ames. I must say, I had not thought that she ever would marry. She loves her work at the school, you see. But I am sure that she will enjoy the responsibilities that will come to her lot as the parson’s wife just as much.’
As Lavinia went inside thoughtfully, she decided that she would not share this conversation
Similar Books
