acknowledged to be unexceptionable, she must hand him over to Sara. “Mr. Hudson might have something to say about that!”she said perversely.
“Do you think you can get him?”Martha asked with harrowing directness.
“No, Auntie, but perhaps Miss Ratchett can get him.”
“Pooh—a Cit’s daughter! That is only a flirtation to get Ratchett’s vote or money for the campaign. He will look higher than that for a wife. He is using the chit. We have nothing to fear from her.”
“He does use people,”Lillian admitted sadly. Certainly he had used her—used her to address envelopes and direct the delivery of vegetables and to give him any ideas her poor brain could come up with. He had used her and used her badly, for he had not said a word to her the whole evening, but gone off in front of her eyes, flirting with Miss Ratchett.
“More power to him,”was Martha’s opinion. “And we shall use him to make a husband for Sara.”
Chapter 8
Lillian deduced the whipper-in had been to call at the rectory when Mr. Fellows took the stand for the reading in church the next morning. Whatever about his putting a body to sleep with reading pornography, he certainly managed to make the epistle soporific. Heads were nodding and eyes were glazed before he stepped down, but spirits revived after the service.
The rector, well-pleased with the gift of a new desk and bookshelves for his study (especially as they were understood to be a private donation to himself, to go with him when he left—Hudson didn’t miss a trick), was eager to show his pleasure. He had invited a party to the rectory for lunch, to be composed entirely of Whigs and uncommitted votes. But the crowd outside the church could not be let go without a little politicking, and both Alistair and Fellows were busy campaigning in a subdued, sabbatical way.
Lillian observed that while Fellows was caught up with some farmers, Hudson had edged his way toward the Ratchetts and was making himself pleasant to the family. Miss Ratchett was surely the most stylish lady in the congregation. She wore a fashionable green pelisse and a bonnet with black feathers. Lillian was possibly even happier than Sara when Mr. Alistair came up to speak with them, for she disliked to be seen standing about with no young man to lend her consequence.
In her pique she said, “I think you would have done the reading better, Mr. Alistair.”
“I could hardly have done worse, could I?”he laughed, delighted with praise from the girl he privately considered Hudson’s flirt.
“No, indeed you could not, and I think you should speak to Dr. Everett about taking the stand next Sunday.”
“This is strange talk for a Whig supporter. Has Miss Sara been giving you our literature?”
“She did give me a copy of your pamphlet, and I read it with interest. I think you make some good points too.”
“Lillian is very clever,”Sara warned him.
He looked at Lillian with interest. “I hope her cleverness will remove the scales from her eyes and lead her to a more proper view in politics.”
“Oh, but it is the Whigs who have seen the light!”Sara told him, with no notion that she might be causing offense.
“Now that is the sheerest folly!”Alistair laughed. They talked on and soon began to excite interest in those around them, for the handsome young Tory candidate was usually observed pretty closely, wherever he went. Hudson looked twice in their direction, and was soon making a graceful bow to the Ratchetts and hastening his steps toward the group.
“Are you poaching on my territory, Mr. Alistair?”he asked with a smile that divested the question of ill humor.
“Oh, as to that, I consider charming young ladies free territory till they are officially claimed, Mr. Hudson. I am not always bent on politics, you know, as you seem to be. Don’t be led into believing Mr. Hudson cares for anything but your politics, ladies.”
“We are not so deceived in him, Mr.
“Do you think you can get him?”Martha asked with harrowing directness.
“No, Auntie, but perhaps Miss Ratchett can get him.”
“Pooh—a Cit’s daughter! That is only a flirtation to get Ratchett’s vote or money for the campaign. He will look higher than that for a wife. He is using the chit. We have nothing to fear from her.”
“He does use people,”Lillian admitted sadly. Certainly he had used her—used her to address envelopes and direct the delivery of vegetables and to give him any ideas her poor brain could come up with. He had used her and used her badly, for he had not said a word to her the whole evening, but gone off in front of her eyes, flirting with Miss Ratchett.
“More power to him,”was Martha’s opinion. “And we shall use him to make a husband for Sara.”
Chapter 8
Lillian deduced the whipper-in had been to call at the rectory when Mr. Fellows took the stand for the reading in church the next morning. Whatever about his putting a body to sleep with reading pornography, he certainly managed to make the epistle soporific. Heads were nodding and eyes were glazed before he stepped down, but spirits revived after the service.
The rector, well-pleased with the gift of a new desk and bookshelves for his study (especially as they were understood to be a private donation to himself, to go with him when he left—Hudson didn’t miss a trick), was eager to show his pleasure. He had invited a party to the rectory for lunch, to be composed entirely of Whigs and uncommitted votes. But the crowd outside the church could not be let go without a little politicking, and both Alistair and Fellows were busy campaigning in a subdued, sabbatical way.
Lillian observed that while Fellows was caught up with some farmers, Hudson had edged his way toward the Ratchetts and was making himself pleasant to the family. Miss Ratchett was surely the most stylish lady in the congregation. She wore a fashionable green pelisse and a bonnet with black feathers. Lillian was possibly even happier than Sara when Mr. Alistair came up to speak with them, for she disliked to be seen standing about with no young man to lend her consequence.
In her pique she said, “I think you would have done the reading better, Mr. Alistair.”
“I could hardly have done worse, could I?”he laughed, delighted with praise from the girl he privately considered Hudson’s flirt.
“No, indeed you could not, and I think you should speak to Dr. Everett about taking the stand next Sunday.”
“This is strange talk for a Whig supporter. Has Miss Sara been giving you our literature?”
“She did give me a copy of your pamphlet, and I read it with interest. I think you make some good points too.”
“Lillian is very clever,”Sara warned him.
He looked at Lillian with interest. “I hope her cleverness will remove the scales from her eyes and lead her to a more proper view in politics.”
“Oh, but it is the Whigs who have seen the light!”Sara told him, with no notion that she might be causing offense.
“Now that is the sheerest folly!”Alistair laughed. They talked on and soon began to excite interest in those around them, for the handsome young Tory candidate was usually observed pretty closely, wherever he went. Hudson looked twice in their direction, and was soon making a graceful bow to the Ratchetts and hastening his steps toward the group.
“Are you poaching on my territory, Mr. Alistair?”he asked with a smile that divested the question of ill humor.
“Oh, as to that, I consider charming young ladies free territory till they are officially claimed, Mr. Hudson. I am not always bent on politics, you know, as you seem to be. Don’t be led into believing Mr. Hudson cares for anything but your politics, ladies.”
“We are not so deceived in him, Mr.
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