Eliza’s Daughter by Joan Aiken Page B

was provided for.
    So who was my father?
    ***

    On the whole I found it a decided relief to set off for Bath, humbly, in the carrier’s cart, on the following Saturday, accompanied by two hampers of vegetables and the box containing my remade wardrobe. I felt very much as if I myself had been unpicked and made over in a new design. But the real self was still there, watchful, underneath.
    On the journey I talked a good deal to Cerne, the servant, who proved not unfriendly.
    â€˜Best give a wide berth to Miss Nell,’ she advised. ‘If ever there was a spoilt, marred young ’un! And proud! She’d not give you the time of day if you had a diamond tied to every hair of your head. I can tell you, there was plenty about the village breathed easier when Miss Fine Airs went off to school. The only friend she ever made was young Ralph Mortimer over the valley. And he got sent away to Harrow. Mind – what young Ralph ever saw in her –’
    I asked about Mrs Jebb. ‘Is she a kind lady?’
    Cerne screwed up her nose reflectively. ‘Well – she’s a mortal deal different since she went to prison.’
    â€˜ Prison? ’
    â€˜Didn’t Mrs Ferrars tell you?’
    â€˜No, she certainly didn’t. Mr Ferrars started to say something – but then he was called away to a sick person. Cousin Elinor said nothing at all.’
    â€˜Well, I’ll tell you how it was.’ Cerne settled to her task with relish. ‘For you did ought to know, ’count you’ll say something okward to the poor lady. Five years ago, ’twas, when Mr Jebb was still alive, and he stood by her through thick and thin most faithful, poor gentleman, but it cost him his health, and he was never the same after. He was out with his lady one day a-strolling, and she bought a card of lace at a draper’s shop near the Pump Room, and the next thing, the shopman came a-running after them declaring that Mrs Jebb had slipped two cards of lace into the packet, ’stead of just the one she’d paid for. And Mr Jebb said, no such thing, but let him look to satisfy himself, and so he looked, and – would you believe it – there ’twas! So the constable was called, and the poor lady was committed to jail, till Taunton Assizes. In Ilchester Jail, she was lodged, and the gentleman, her husband, along of her, for he said he’d never desert her in her troubles. And, mind you, i ƒ she’d a been found guilty, she could a been hanged! The lace was worth five shillings, you see. Or, at the very least, transported to Botany Bay. Eight months, she continued in Ilchester jail, and then at the assizes, they brought in Not Guilty. In no more than fifteen minutes! They reckoned it was just a wicked try-on by the shop people, they’d slipped it in the parcel. And they’d expected Mr Jebb – who was a warm, and a well-respected man – would pay them hush money, so as to buy them off. But not he! Mr Ferrars reckoned he spent over two thousand pound in legal doings. Oh, there was such a crying and a kissing and a hooroaring when the poor lady was brought in Not Guilty. But it proved the death of him, poor man, he was never the same again, and his business failed, and he died; and after that she was obliged to live very quiet, for although found innocent, some of her former acquaintance fell away from her. She sold up the big house and moved to New King Street.’
    â€˜Poor lady. What a terrible thing to happen.’
    I had found the frugal, punctilious and high-minded atmosphere at Delaford Rectory rather tiring and decidedly hard to live up to; I could not help wondering what life with Mrs Montford Jebb held in store, and looked forward to it with a good deal of interest.

Chapter 4
    Mrs Montford Jebb occupied a small house in New King Street.
    â€˜Of course when my late dear husband was alive, matters were very otherwise,’ she told me. ‘Then we resided in