“What, is there any problem with her pregnancy?” asked Miss Bates “For I have not heard anything but that she is blooming; I SAID MOTHER THAT EMMA IS BLOOMING,” she added loudly as the old woman cupped her ear.
Mrs Elton felt sour; that news had reached her last even though from Emma herself!
In point of fact Emma had told Miss Bates herself; on the principle that such meant that it would shortly be all around the village without Emma having the embarrassment of having to discuss it. Miss Bates’ vulgarity and lack of embarrassment over such things had its uses. Naturally she had told her dear Mrs Weston first; but for the rest let them chew over the news until it was stale enough that any changes to her figure would be but old news and not worth mentioning.
Emma, it has to be said, might not have thought of the idea on her own had she not been agonising over who to let know and what gossip might say; and George had laughingly suggested telling Miss Bates as an unofficial town crier.
Emma had thought it a quite brilliant idea.
She would have thought it still more brilliant had she known that being behind with the news had left Augusta Elton with bile rising at the thought. And needing for courtesy’s sake to stay and listen to Miss Bates repeat over and over what dear Jane had written and then repeat all twice or thrice loudly for the sake of her deaf mother.
Chapter 31
It must not be supposed that Mr Alver was not also subject to the gossip of the village; because he was. So youthful and friendly a young man however – for he had carried bags for Miss Bates among other small kindnesses – received only the most kindly of gossip; and it was generally supposed that he was some protégé of Mr Knightley, staying with him as a favour to a father or, as he had mentioned an uncle, some other guardian. Indeed Mr Alver had endeared himself entirely when he had taken groceries in his phaeton, which was worthy of gossip itself, to Mr Weston’s old nurse just because Mr Weston had mentioned in his hearing that she was feeling a little low in this weather and should have such delivered for her. Mr Alver had offered straight away to deliver anything that was needed and claimed that his horses needed the exercise in any case. Everyone knew that Mr Weston would have cheerfully undertaken this small chore himself; but that Mr Alver was so ready to do so spoke well of his sweetness of character, just like Mr Frank Churchill!
And George said cynically that far from being like Frank Churchill, Arthur really was a sweet natured and kindly youth, since he had never known Churchill to do a kindness that was not public, whereas he also knew that Arthur was secretly leaving the results of the shooting he was enjoying to pass the time on the doorsteps of the poorest in the neighbourhood with a note that it was with permission and no poached game, implying that it was at the behest of either William Larkins or Mr Knightley himself; and though it was with permission it had been Arthur’s idea entirely.
Arthur did draw the line at nursing a typhus ridden girl; and explained as much, with some trepidation, to Gervase.
Gervase had smiled – relieving Arthur’s mind no end – and said,
“Oh it is an insane venture, dear boy, and had I not had the disease I might think twice also! Perhaps you will be my messenger boy however and assist Marsh with fetching and carrying?”
Arthur was happy to help out his uncle’s imperturbable valet, who had been his batman during the wars and who might be even more of a stickler for sartorial proprieties than his master but who was also capable of showing well in a mill and could drop the accents of an upper class servant to bawl out a footman in the language of the military. Marsh assisted Mrs Hodges with the laundering of the extra clothes and proved – that worthy declared – almost the equal of a woman. He showed her enough deference to soon be a prime favourite. Marsh knew how to handle women; on the Peninsular he had been considered equal to any baggage train in his usefulness for his ability to charm billets and good meals out of the women of any village, however unwilling and sullen. His greatest feat was whispered to have been in France, to get the men of the –th Rifle Brigade settled and cared for in a village whose men they had been shooting at the day before by trading the medicines they carried to be used impartially on French and English wounded.
Alverston certainly considered Marsh invaluable; he was capable of procuring anything his master wanted at any time and had never yet been seen to fail. Alverston just preferred not to ask by what methods he came by some of his more dubious acquisitions since he strongly suspected Marsh of having the ability to apply the larcenous tendencies of his pre-war profession as a poacher.
Marsh had been due to be hung for being caught poaching on the lands that marched with Alverton, under the tenure of Sir Richard Fairlees; and he had been offered the chance to join up instead on a plea by the young Gervase Alver, second legitimate son of the then
Marquess. He had remained devoted to Gervase’s interests ever since. Marsh indeed did not mind taking a turn sitting with Kate to give both Gervase and Prudence a rest; and, as he said, some time to be lovebirds out of the sick chamber.
Gervase damned his impudence in the sort of way that was plainly, Prudence thought, a matter of form and almost a standing joke between the men. She thanked Marsh prettily for his kindness and won a devoted admirer in him by telling him to be sure and not let his master overdo things and wear himself to a rag.
Marsh was also not one to gossip but as he was undertaking to purchase such as was needed to nurse the girl Kate he passed on to Gervase and Prudence what he thought were the more hilarious stories that he had heard.
“And if you ask me, My Lord, which I know you won’t but I’m going to tell you anyway,” he said, “that Vicar’s wife is as Unchristian a soul as ever stepped that wasn’t a candidate for the Papacy. Right wicked tongue she has; and I could have put her right, but I though to myself, ho, NO Marsh, his Lordship is going to enjoy giving her a put-down and give her the cut-direct when this wretched girl is off his hands, and serve the evil baggage right too, making such assumptions about our Miss Prudence. And she ain’t so well born herself that she can afford to cast aspersions on others; her father’s a cit and her uncle’s some kind of glorified solicitor’s clerk and her sister is married to a knight of industry as you might say; or rather one who’d like to be knighted for the industry of his workers.”
“Marsh, how you manage to come out with a sentence so full of such top-lofty derision and then finish with a sentence that almost smacks of revolutionary egalitarianism is quite remarkable,” said Gervase.
Marsh grinned.
“It’s practice, My Lord,” he said, “and a right bumblebroth the old besom has made of second guessing; and if you’ll take my advice, My Lord, Miss Prudence, you won’t be seen being too obviously My Lord Alverston if you be wishful of squiring Miss Blenkinsop around outside; until you gets the opportunity to get the last laugh and make a fool of that woman in public.”
“Marsh,” said Gervase, “you have a reprehensible sense of humour.”
“Yes My Lord. You said much the same when we booby-trapped that cavalry colonel’s thunderbox to detonate when he lifted the lid,” said Marsh.
“We?” said Gervase.
“Well My Lord, we couldn’t of done it if you’d not had that friend in the artillery as let us have the equipment,” said Marsh.
Gervase grinned.
“Well I suppose not….. a wretched man, Prudence, that we should startle him with a loud but I assure you non-harmful detonation of his close stool; he thought as senior officer he had the right to order my Rifles about and Cavalry ways and Rifle ways are a lot different. We laid him low with good syrup of figs and on the day he was to be invalided out, Marsh here came up with an idea to speed him on his way. It was hilarious,” he added.
Sustained by Gervase’ love, Marsh’s sense of humour, and the calm good sense of Emma and George, even though she might not approach Emma too closely, Prudence felt able to cope with a situation in which she was avoided by some villagers if she walked down the street or treated warily by o
thers.
Miss Bates called her in to take tea with her and her mother.
“William Larkins – he is such a good friend to us! – tells me that there is a lot of foolishness spoken about the contagion of typhus when if good precautions are taken it might be entirely avoided!” said Miss Bates.
“I should certainly say that the chance of contracting it might be significantly reduced by good hygiene practices,” said Prudence, “and Mr Perry has said that if none of us who are involved in the nursing of poor Kate have contracted the illness within a week – which expires tomorrow – then we are unlikely to succumb. And I have no signs of illness whatsoever,” she added, “so it does look as though removing the poor girl’s lice-ridden clothing and burning it and making sure to wash our own clothes immediately on leaving the sick room has been effective. The theory has been advanced, you understand, by a friend of my betrothed, that the disease is carried on the bodies of lice; and that poor girl was crawling.”
“Oh my dear! How kind of you to deal with such disgusting creatures! I was saying to mother only this morning that the Fellowes family are a disgrace! And three of the children down with it now, and Mrs Fellowes coughing too, and even Hod Dodderidge won’t let Fellowes into the Bull and Basket, which is where low types like him go for their heavy wet, on account – so I heard – that the others who drink there threatened to string up Dod and Harry Fellowes both if he brought his Typhus into the inn! Though I must say, calling it an inn is a bit of aggrandisement, for the place is a hovel scarce bigger than an ordinary kitchen and hardly any cleaner than Fellowes place, they say. And you are still perfectly fit? And your young man? Will we get to meet him when Kate is either better or succumbs? Mrs Elton is most disparaging but I say that a man who will put himself out for a girl most will tell you is of no account is a gentleman, whatever his birth! Is it true that he was a horse doctor in the army?”
Prudence laughed.
“Oh you will, I am certain, meet him,” she said, “and he is a gentleman by birth whatever Mrs Elton might imagine; and she seems to have imagined quite a lot! He has served on the Peninsular as an officer but not in the capacity of horse doctor. He was in the Rifle Brigade;
they are a foot regiment. It is the same regiment as Sir Harry Smith, who was responsible for the relief of Badahos; it is not a fashionable regiment, but probably the one most responsible for putting Boney on the run. Though I am biased!” she added. “I gather that all who served in Spain have learned something of how to physick each other though; it was an unhealthy place.”
“So you will be introducing him? Excellent!” cried Miss Bates “MISS BLENKINSOP WILL INTRODUCE US TO HER BETROTHED WHEN KATE IS EITHER WELL OR DEAD, MOTHER!” she bellowed. “Tell me, as you are in outbuildings of Donwell, do you see anything of the Marquess? Or does he avoid the sick room and any from it for fear of the typhus?”
Prudence smiled.
“His Lordship is all that is amiable,” she said, “as one might expect of a friend of my Cousin George.”
“He is a friend then of Mr Knightley? MOTHER, MISS BLENKINSOP SAYS THAT THE NOBLE LORD IS A FRIEND OF MR KNIGHTLEY!” she informed the old woman, who smiled.
“They became good friends in London discussing how best to save what might be of their respective crops and alleviate suffering on their lands,” said Prudence. “His Lordship came here after having returned to Lincolnshire to communicate some of the ideas he and Cousin George discussed to his own Bailiff.”
“Oh, he sounds a very upright and proper landlord!” said Miss Bates, “one hears such stories of the aristocracy, and not always to their credit you know; it is very exciting that he chooses to visit! Does he hope to buy Donwell Abbey if Mr Knightley and Mrs Emma continue to live at Hartfield?”
“I do not believe the subject has been discussed at all,” said Prudence. “What an excellent cup of tea you make!”
“Oh I am glad you think so! Black tea is not to the liking of all, I believe it is fashionable to take a dish of green tea and mother and I would not like to get used to that, it is not to our liking. Moreover black tea stores better; I have heard that green tea quite loses its flavour within a year!”
“I have only had green tea in London when it was all that was offered but most fashionable hostesses there also offer black tea and indeed I believe it is the more popular kind,” said Prudence. “There seems little point in a beverage that has but little flavour that is quite drowned by the addition of the milk. Though I fear we shall be drinking our black tea black if the milk yields are down this year for the bad weather, even as we must do through the winter months. This bad weather seems quite endless.”
“Indeed yes!” said Miss Bates, “and poor Mother suffers from the cold at her age; I do not know how she will go on if the weather does not improve!”
“And she will not be the only one,” said Prudence. “Miss Bates; I have an errand to perform; will you think me rude if I hasten off upon it? I should like to come again another time if you will have me.”
“Oh Miss Blenkinsop, you could never offend; it is I who must apologise for keeping you from your errand! I trust that you will continue to keep well….” and talking volubly all the way the good woman saw Prudence out.
Prudence took herself to the Ironmonger’s which stood out along Church Lane and sold, in addition to such useful things as harness fitments, garden implements, timber and nails, such things as candles; and, too, coal, which was stored in the big yard behind the shop. The name over the shop was Saunders, and the shop lay as far as it was physically possible for it to do from the Blacksmith’s forge with whom Mr Saunders had a running rivalry; and which bone of contention was the greatest was that White, the smith, had to purchase coal from Saunders’ or pay to have it carted in when he wanted a hotter fire than might be
obtained from local timber. Most people burned wood of course; but the coal was supplemental for those of greater means and there were standing orders for the large houses in the neighbourhood. Prudence entered under a jangling bell into that curious and yet attractive odour that typifies an ironmonger, redolent with the grease on locks, candlewax, sawn wood and the curious metallic smell that is hard to define.
“I wish to purchase a half ton of coal for Mrs Bates,” said Prudence, “and, too, three hundredweight sacks of coal to be delivered to each of the needy families in the neighbourhood. You will bill me? I am staying at Hartfield.”
“Oh yes, you be Miss Blenkinsop,” said the proprietor with respect. This would be a substantial sale, and a welcome one with everyone pulling in their belts over anticipated poor harvests.
“That is quite correct,” said Prudence, “there is no need to mention my name however; just explain that it is a gift.”
“You are right good, Miss Blenkinsop,” said Saunders. “Many will bless their unknown benefactress. I dare to suggest your gift might save lives.”
“I will pay for an extra sack where there are small children too on the understanding that the heat is used to permit frequent hot baths to avoid the typhus,” said Prudence.
“Washing can help Miss? They do say you are betrothed to an expert in the disease as worked among the soldiers in the wars” he said.
Prudence laughed.
“Oh not at all” she said, “my betrothed has some little knowledge of it for having fought in the wars; and having had it himself and recovered. He is of the opinion that it is carried on body lice, and washing the body and the clothes thoroughly keeps them at bay and so does not permit the disease to spread; and ironing the seams kills the eggs.”
Saunders considered.
“Well, Miss Blenkinsop, thank you for the clear explanation; that I will spread when I deliver coal and explain what it is to be used for as well as warmth,” said Saunders. “I will also loan out an iron to such as do not possess one. If we may keep clear of infection – save for those hem Fellowes as are a disgrace to the community – then we shall be doing well.”
“Thank you Mr
Saunders,” said Prudence.
It all helped. And as he sold flatirons he might readily loan one; and doubtless would hope that the difference it made would prompt others to purchase one too! a man who understood that acts of kindness might too be acts to increase his business was a man to be encouraged.
Chapter 32
It might not be supposed that Arthur, though not disposed to help damsels in distress to the extent of having Typhus, would entirely manage to be able to avoid feminine entanglements.
The girls of Mrs Goddard’s excellent school were firmly chased out for healthful walks in all but the most inclement weather; which was to say when the fog had receded for once to a light haze, and the sun might be perceived to be blushing in shame at its inability to dissipate the mist.
Upon two of such girls did Mr Arthur Alver come, most unexpectedly, the one standing and wringing her hands, the other sat on the ground, white of face and clutching her ankle, which was several times larger than any ankle had the right to be.
“I say!” said Arthur “Are you hurt?” he considered and added, “stupid sort of question; I can see that you are hurt. May I be of assistance?”
The injured girl was of the rather bouncing type of girl whom Arthur normally avoided; this accident however had rendered her somewhat more than harmless and she murmured a shy
“Oh if you please!”
“Emily – Miss Rawlinson – placed her foot awkwardly in a rabbit scrape,” explained the other maiden, who looked to be of the kind who end up scrawny and either – in Arthur’s opinion – marry vicars because nobody else would want them, or end up acidulated old maids as companions to demanding dowagers or governesses to someone else’s prodigies.
“Well the best thing to do is to bandage it,” said Arthur, “and then take her to Mr Perry. Let me see; I do not think a kerchief will do; it will have to be my cravat. Is there a stream nearby Miss….?” He asked the other. She simpered.
Cousin Prudence Page 18
