Cousin Prudence

by Waldock, Sarah

  “He is a trifle…..frightening,” said Clara timidly.

  “Do you find him so? I have never done so,” said Prudence, “but then I am wont to quarrel with him, and enjoy the cut and thrust of wordplay in the quarrel.”

  “How brave you are!” gasped Clara “I should never dare to contradict him!”

  “Now I think that you are a brave girl to come to the city and undertake a venture which you clearly hate for the sake of your siblings!” said Prudence. “And I shall be happy – as will Mrs Knightley, my cousin – to look out for you and to add you to any party we make up.”

  “Oh you are very good to me!” said Clara, looking as though she was about to cry.

  Prudence escaped to greet Diana.

  “Miss Blenkinsop!” said Lady Greyling “How kind of you and Mrs Knightley to think of my Diana; it’s so tedious for her in town, but Greyling must keep abreast of

  matters and meet with people…..this terrible weather has grave implications for any landowner, though most

  contrive to ignore it and enjoy the Season!”

  “Life goes on I suppose,” said Prudence, “the wise ones maintain their social contacts and take notice of the weather – like Lord Alverston and his horses.”

  “My dear, I cannot believe he took you behind those wild Astley’s perfoming beasts of colts!” said Georgiana “HOW like Gervase; he said you enjoyed it?”

  “I did actually,” admitted Prudence.

  “Well my dear, there’s no accounting for tastes; but you are not to let him coerce you in any way!”

  “I don’t think he could, Lady Greyling; I’m too stubborn,” said Prudence candidly.

  Georgiana laughed.

  “My dear you must call me Georgie; all my friends do. I see there are other younger girls?”

  “Indeed; Miss Wrexham, permit me to make some introductions.”

  Diana beamed at her.

  “If you are to call Mama ‘Georgie’ I should think it will be in order to call me Diana. Shall we call you Prudence?”

  “I would like that very much, Diana; or Pru to my friends.”

  Georgiana kissed Prudence on the cheek and Diana squeezed her hand.

  “I should think,” said Georgiana cryptically. “you will do very well indeed.”

  The evening was a great success; and even the older young people soon threw dignity to the wind in the playing of parlour games, with serious Mr Penrose showing remarkable skill with a box of spillikins Emma unearthed and Kitty positively squealing with alternate delight and horror as Arthur Alver’s fox attempted to round up her geese. Alverston dropped in unexpectedly half way through the evening and Diana challenged him to a game of quadrille.

  The vision of her elegant brother sitting on the floor with his niece, Prudence, and a selection of young people, bidding for fish and seeming perfectly contented in such unsophisticated pursuit brought a smile to Georgiana’s lips. One day he would make a splendid father.

  And then Clara found the courage to suggest an unexceptional form of fortune telling which even her father was not opposed to.

  “Tell my fortune then, Miss Bullivant,” said Arthur. She smiled shyly at him.

  “You must promise to do exactly as I say,” she said.

  “Of course!” said Arthur promptly.

  “You must lay out a pack of cards around you in a circle first, face down,” said Clara. Arthur complied, adjusting its circular nature critically. She went on, “your past is that you laid out the cards; your present that you are sat surrounded by them; and your future that you are going to pick them up and put them away.”

  Everyone laughed, including Arthur.

  “Well you caught me out with your cleverness, Miss Bullivant!” he said. “Now I shall know how to confound the fellows at Oxford with such an amusing joke!”

  The evening broke up early because of the youth of many of its participants and all declared themselves to have had a good time.

  “May I call for you with my colts tomorrow, Miss Blenkinsop?” asked Alverston, lingering as he made his farewells. Prudence flushed slightly.

  “I should be very pleased to accompany you,” she said. “And this time I shall mount without your hand so you will not need to take your attention from them.”

  “You are a most excellent woman, Miss Blenkinsop,” he said, kissing her hand.

  Chapter 20

  Prudence and the faithful – and grumbling – Hester were ready to leap quickly into the phaeton, Prudence scrambling for herself ; and she received an approving smile from Alverston who was really very firmly occupied with the horses.

  “If you had only warned me in advance I should not have placed so severe a strain on your right arm holding them last time,” said Prudence.

  “Ah, well, it was then my own fault!” said Alverston gaily. “No fog today, only a rather penetrating rain; my scarf is at your disposal again.”

  “I have brought a white silk one of my own which I trust will afford me even more of a view through it; though I thank you” said Prudence “I have also worn a less stylish but more robust bonnet for the trim on my other bonnet suffered sadly from its ordeal of speed, and the ribbon trimming looked I fear as dissipated as that fellow who accosted me in Bond Street!”

  “Dissipated indeed!” laughed Alverston “Though I did not notice when I left you; all I noticed were your fine eyes shining with the joy of the trip.”

  “You turn a pretty compliment to make me feel better knowing in what rumpled state I returned,” said Prudence. “I hope that you are not however offended that I do not wear a more modish bonnet to be seen out with you?”

  “Why Miss Blenkinsop, it is to my mind far better to dress in accordance with the activity not according, necessarily to fashion; and I should rather by far be seen with a woman in a respectable, if less modish bonnet than one in a dissipated bonnet as must put me to blush!”

  She laughed.

  “Why, even when you are funning, My Lord, I have to say that I find it hard to believe that you are ever put to the blush,” she said.

  “Well yes, it was rather a bouncer, wasn’t it?” he said. “I thought we’d head into Kent today; if we tool them as far as Rochester we might manage to get a meal while they rest. The castle is a fine piece of medieval intimidation, which Arthur would doubtless quip makes it one with Aunt Mouser, though I doubt we shall get to look over it. It’s a fine old town however.”

  “Well the trip is the pleasure,” said Prudence, “and if we might eat as well, such would be a bonus.”

  It was a long drive and the colts were indeed ready to rest and be rubbed down in a coaching inn; and Alverston paid for a boy to help John so that his man would have some time to eat; and arranged for viands to be sent out to him.

  The fare was simple but well prepared, a saddle of mutton with dried peas pottage and turnips mashed in a very little butter, the landlord apologising that no new greens were worth eating, not even young dandelions as would never normally be a dish to offer the gentry.

  “And turnips hardly fit for human consumption either, but they be what has survived the frosts, My Lord,” he said.

  “It smells very well indeed,” said Alverston, “and your good lady an excellent manager to make do with what there might be!”

  He looked grave however as they ate.

  “Personally I like turnips,” said Prudence, “but I fancy that we may all be heartily sick of them by the year’s end. Do you have such a thing as conservatories or orangeries, My Lord?”

  “I do; though I doubt there may be enough sun to ripen much fruit even under glass,” said Alverston.

  “Then other than caring for the trees well enough to keep them alive, might it not be a good idea to entirely abandon hope of fruit and instead to bring in troughs to

  grow common vegetables under glass to lift their temperature closer to what they may expect in a warmer year?” asked Prudence.

  He stared, much struck.

  “It is a bril
liant idea…. I shall too purchase as much glass as I may to perhaps erect some kind of structure over as much as is possible of the home farm,” he said. “Then at least we may bring some vegetables to a state that they are edible…. And my tenants may not starve. I have already directed the sowing of more turnips than usual because of their ability to withstand cold, and to at least maintain the livestock; the men are sowing barley and oats, which I have noticed thrives further north that we may have some sort of crop coming to fruition, and if any grumble to eat rye bread or barley loaves, I say it is better to eat bread than to starve.”

  “I think you are a very farsighted and wise man,” said Prudence, “Cousin George has also sown oats this year for there is always pottage; I think you might exchange ideas profitably. He is as I understand considered a very model landlord and his factor, Mr Larkin a man of superior understanding and good sense, if lacking in social manner.”

  Alverston laughed.

  “And there are those who might also describe me thus when I am in an ill tempered mood! I shall indeed speak long with Knightley. My lands in the north are largely on lime, which at least drains well in this incessant damp; but I am sure we shall have much to consider if we talk through our common problem.”

  “It is the tenant yeomen farmers that most concern George,” said Prudence, “there is a family called Martin, who have rented the same farm time out of mind, and they are proud people; they are not strictly George’s dependants and must surely suffer from these continual years of poor harvest; for with the colder weather of the end of last summer and autumn the harvest was I believe in many cases battered down by rain.”

  “And now this dry fog… Benjamin Franklin is said to have linked a volcanic eruption in Iceland to the cold of the whole 1794, which I recall for being a student at the time; though the winter has not been so cold as it was two winters ago when there was a frost fair on the Thames. Who can say what causes the vagaries of the weather?” sighed Alverston “We must merely do our best to weather the weather as one might say,” he sighed again. “I shall take the colts back to my own stables and walk over to speak with Knightley; then I believe I may go back to my estates in order to implement your very excellent idea concerning using glass as protection. Erecting extra greenhouses will at least be a means of providing employment for some of the poor fellows who find themselves out of work since disbanded from the army. I have a sergeant who served with me whom I shall place in charge. And if it means that we may save more crops then it is worth while to do… and we must wait and see whether next year will be better. Come; let us hurry back so that I may set off for the North in good time to be well on my way before nightfall.”

  George and Alverston spoke long and in the end Alverston abandoned the idea about getting on his way before nightfall, and determined instead to go early to bed and be on the road by dawn.

  “I too should like to return to Highbury and speak with William Larkin,” said George, “you ladies will, I feel sure, be perfectly comfortable if I leave you for a day; if you need anything I am sure you might apply to Lady Katherine for succour. Prudence has had a very good idea regarding using glass, and though Donwell Abbey has but a small conservatory, that might as well be put to good use; and if panes are constructed and laid on low unmortared brick walls, the spring planting might be brought along by such means for a month or two at least at Donwell and Hartfield.”

  The family retired to bed much more soberly than might be expected of a family enjoying the London Season; but as George said, though there seemed little change to the gaiety of the social gatherings, for people whose livelihood was the land, there were other considerations to take into account besides enjoyment and pleasure.

  And Prudence reflected that if many starved because there was not the food to be had, this too would affect all industry equally for the lack of spending that would ensue.

  Chapter 21

  It was a little flat, thought Prudence, with Alverston away; but on the other hand she would have thought less of him had he not gone to arrange to see how much he might improve the chances of his crops. She hoped and prayed that her idea would work, at least enough to alleviate the problem a little.

  George had returned late at night the same day that he had left, in fairly good spirits for being able to leave everything in the capable hands of William Larkin at Donwell and his brother John at Hartfield. He reported that Mr Woodhouse was missing Emma but was much cheered by the presence of Isabella and his grandchildren; and that small Henry had rent his pantaloons climbing after a jay’s nest and had broken the parlour window sniping at a pigeon with a catapult and had been taken firmly in hand by Mr Larkin to train – as he seemed to wish to take up hunting – in dealing with vermin in a more regular manner so he might learn to shoot under stern and expert supervision.

  Emma hoped Henry might not kill anybody and brightened and added that perhaps he might wing Mrs Elton; and George told her off for such Unchristian thoughts and of a vicar’s wife.

  The Knightley ménage were to attend a ball in honour of Miss Fairlees and that must take place without Alverston to lend his presence to it; and the Knightleys were bid to come and dine at midday first and change at Lady Katherine’s residence. As Arthur had asked that Miss Bullivant be invited, Lady Katherine had, a trifle reluctantly, extended that nuncheon invitation to Miss Bullivant and her aunt as they were much in the protection of the Knightleys; though from what she had seen at the informal rout, Miss Bullivant was prettily enough behaved if rather insipid.

  As the same description might equally suit Kitty, Lady Katherine sighed.

  Actually Kitty was more insipid than Clara Bullivant who at least became animated on the subject of her family. Giving Kitty backbone was an uphill struggle!

  The presentation Ball was to be a glittering affair, with some two hundred couples standing up on the dance floor and to feast at dinner. Lady Katherine believed in doing things on a large scale; and Clara whispered with some disapproval that the cost of the candles alone would feed two poor families for a year.

  As there must be quite fifty pounds of candles in the big candelabra over the various rooms that were open, Prudence would not dispute that statement; but it was not her business to quibble and so she said to Clara.

  “If the rich gave everything away to the poor it would encourage laziness and profligacy,” said Prudence, “and the rich would then no longer be available either as employers or to give to charity, however spurious their reasons. You should concentrate on using such an occasion as this to find that rich husband you need and perhaps to turn his mind to social ventures. And actually the cost of the candles are keeping candle makers in work which means that it is feeding the poor. All things in society are dependant on each other. My father was condemned by candle makers for lighting his factory with gas, because his concern was for the eyesight of his workers; you can’t please everyone all the time.”

  “How cogently you explain things Miss Blenkinsop!” said Clara, “you are right of course; it is better to do what one can than to make plaint. I could only wish, however, that I felt comfortable eating a large meal, knowing that others are starving.”

  “Then ask Mr Alver if any left overs that might be normally disposed of not re-used – and you will find in a thrifty household much will reappear in ragouts and

  curries and stews – should be distributed to the poor of London,” suggested Prudence.

  Either Arthur would be talked into pursuing reforming zeal or he would be put off the poor girl before her own heart became too deeply engaged.

  Where Emma was inclined to match make, Prudence considered that potential lovers should be flung together to discover all the virtues AND faults each possessed. Even as she intended to throw together Kitty and the estimable Mr Penrose who had been much struck by the pretty heiress at the rout.

  Lady Katherine asked,

  “Matchmaking, Miss Blenkinsop?”

  “No Ma’am; pushing the children together lo
ng enough for them to find out what they dislike in each other,” said Prudence. Lady Katherine gave a guffaw of laughter.

  “Ah, a pragmatist after my own heart my dear!” she said. “You are quite a find; I am glad Alverston stopped his team in time and did not run you over. It has the merit of simple yet profound wisdom….what do you know of young Penrose?”

  “Only that he danced with me once at Almack’s and did not make me want to yawn as most of them did,” said Prudence.

  “Naughty puss!” said Lady Katherine without any censure in her tone. “I wager Alverston did not make you yawn!”

  “No ma’am; but he does not count in with the mass of young fools who I fear I have trouble telling apart,” said Prudence, “he is a man of distinction, no manners but the soul of courtesy, apparently bored and yet full of interesting stories and knowledge.”

  “So what did you talk about when he took you driving behind those infamous colts of his?” demanded the old lady.

  “Farming,” said Prudence.

  “Stap me!” the dowager fell back on an expression of her youth, not considered ladylike to use even then. Lady Katherine had been considered a wild piece in her time. “Well if he hasn’t popped the question yet the man doesn’t know when he’s well off – a girl with sense who’ll put up with his wild horses AND talk farming….he’d be an idiot to let you get away.”

  Prudence flushed.

  “My birth…”

  “Your birth, my dear child, was between your mother’s legs in the regular fashion!” said Lady Katherine, “and your manners are good enough so let’s hear no more of that! Do you know why Gervase has left town by the way?”

  “He’s gone to see if he can’t get some crops grown under glass to combat the inclement weather” said Prudence “It was an idea I came up with that he has expanded upon in a most exciting way!”

  “Lud! He should have taken you with him and arranged a nuptial when he’d finished ploughing” said Lady Katherine. “La child, I’ve made you blush; but then I am accounted the only one who can talk even Gervase to a standstill. I apologise! Come now, let us see who you shall dance with that I may tell Gervase all about your conquests to make him jealous!”