Rivals of Fortune / The Impetuous Heiress by Jane Ashford

those straight paths and square flower beds! We shall have them all pulled up and a cunning wilderness planted. And the shrubbery must go; it is so close and dark. You know Repton’s plans, of course?”
    Joanna, thinking that she had spent countless happy hours in that shrubbery and that garden as a child, and never found the least fault, shook her head.
    Adrienne raised her eyebrows. “No? But everyone talks of them.” She shrugged again. “I think them too perfect. And I am determined to get a hermit. They are all the crack, you know.”
    â€œA hermit?” echoed Joanna, mystified.
    â€œOh, yes, my dear Miss Rowntree. Have you not heard of that, either? So fashionable. We mean to construct a grotto with a cave, and there is nothing more engaging than having a hermit to live in such a place. One’s guests just catch glimpses of him, you know, as he goes about his business. It is terribly affecting. The Duke of Devonshire has one.”
    â€œBut a—a hermit, that is, where does one find a hermit?”
    Adrienne gave a long silvery laugh. “Oh, my dear, you are too amusing. He is not really a hermit, of course. One hires some local to put it on. I daresay there may be any number of old men in the neighborhood who will be delighted to have the place.”
    Joanna was astonished by the idea. “D-do you?” she said weakly.
    Adrienne made an airy gesture. “Naturally. What have they to do, after all? It is not as if it were difficult work. The man need only wear suitable clothing and wander about the grounds.” She frowned. “He will have to grow a beard, of course, and let his hair hang long, but he can be compensated for that.” She looked down at Joanna. “Do you know anyone who might want the place?”
    â€œI? Oh, no, I don’t think so.”
    â€œWell, no matter. Peter will find someone.”
    Joanna tried to imagine Peter asking one of the neighborhood workmen, say old Mr. Jenkins, to take on such a role. She could not.
    â€œAnd in the house,” Adrienne was going on, “I shall have new carpets and hangings, of course, and I think I shall pull out the wall between those two cramped front parlors and make them into a billiard room. So much more fashionable. It will mean that we cannot entertain on any scale for some time, but I don’t care for that. Our neighbors will understand, I daresay, and when we are finished, we shall have a gala day to show the new additions. How delightful it will be!” She paused to savor this idea, then carried on in the same manner for nearly a quarter of an hour, detailing all of her plans for Joanna.
    The younger girl was both bored and rather overwhelmed at the extent and nature of these, and she said little in reply. She was heartily grateful when they were interrupted by her mother, who came in to start the dancing once more. Mrs. Finley gushed over her, no doubt remembering her creditable London connections.
    Joanna took this opportunity to escape. Seeing Constance opposite, she went to her, eager to vent some of the outrage she was feeling. “What an appalling woman,” she said softly when she reached Constance’s side, “I came within an inch of telling her so, too.”
    â€œWhat?” said Constance dreamily.
    Joanna looked at her. Clearly, Constance was not listening. Her eyes seemed to be on some faraway object, yet when Joanna looked in that direction, there was nothing unusual to be seen. “Is anything wrong, Constance?” she asked.
    â€œWrong? Oh, no,” replied the other, with such emphasis that Joanna did not know what to make of it.
    â€œWell, but you seem abstracted.”
    Constance turned toward her, but did not really look at her. “Thank you, yes,” she said, and then drifted away across the floor.
    Joanna frowned as she looked after her, but at that moment, Jack Townsend came up to beg her to start the dancing again as his partner,