Joan Smith - Delsie

“It might be best to wait a few days,” Max said, then looked rather conscious, as though he had said something he hadn’t meant to.

“A few days will make no difference,” Jane remarked.

“Ah, I have just remembered-the auction is this afternoon,” Max said. “I hope to dispose of Andrew’s phaeton and cattle and get a carriage for you, cousin. Have you anything special in mind?”

“I don’t want anything very grand-and only a team, remember. I don’t want to be feeding four horses.”

“It is high time Bobbie had a pony as well. Do you ride, yourself?” deVigne asked Mrs. Grayshott.

“No, I have never learned, and as to a pony for Bobbie, that can wait till spring. The weather is not good. There is no point feeding an extra animal all winter for nothing.”

“You should have a mount,” he persisted.

“Like the pony, it can wait till spring. I’m bound to take a dozen spills, and prefer softer falling than frozen ground.”

“You don’t fool me,” deVigne said, smiling. “It is not the hard falling but the miserly resentment of providing feed that delays the purchase. Clutch-fisted. You’ll be locking up the larder next, and hiding the keys. My girls will not take kindly to such stingy ways.”

Jane looked closely from her nephew to Delsie at this speech. She said nothing, but her face wore a knowing expression.

Delsie replied, “It is not necessary for you to boast of the large way of going on at the Hall. Nellie and Olive have done your bragging for you. We are operating on a tighter budget here, however.”

“How was the onslaught of creditors?” he asked. “The ad has been in the paper since Monday. The local merchants would have seen it and acted by now.”

“There hasn’t been a soul,” she told him. “Not one. The hundred pounds from the grocer seems to be the only money owing. He must have been spending his smuggling money, as you suggested, Lady Jane. How shall I know how much to pay back?”

“That is carrying saintliness too far,” Lady Jane opined. “I know you plan some charitable work with all those bags of gold you keep finding, but surely what Andrew spent before your time may be allowed to go by.”

“What will you do with the twenty-five hundred?” deVigne inquired. For about half an hour they sat chatting in a friendly way, after which deVigne took his leave, promising he would let Mrs. Grayshott know, after the auction, what he had purchased there for her.

“He’s up to something,” Jane advised, the minute they were left alone.

“Uncle Clancy was at the Hall yesterday,” Bobbie said, trying for some attention.

The ladies exchanged a significant glance. “Did he stay overnight?” Mrs. Grayshott asked.

“No, he didn’t stay for dinner either. He just came specially to see me.”

“Did he ask you to Merton to visit him?” Lady Jane queried.

“No. I never visit him. Mama, can I go up and play with my dolls?”

“Miss Milne will want a lesson first, dear.”

“I had an awful lot of lessons at Uncle Max’s place,” she began wheedling.

“Baggage!” Lady Jane laughed.

“That’s good,” her stepmother congratulated. “You want to grow up and be a smart young lady, don’t you?”

“No, I want to be a smuggler, like Darby.”

“What a minx it is,” Lady Jane declared, simulating disapproval, while her eyes danced.

Miss Milne appeared at the door to remove her charge. Over her shoulder, Bobbie said. “I’ll do reading, but I don’t want any ‘rithmetic.”

“As you were saying”-Delsie reverted to a former topic-”deVigne seems in an unusually good mood today. Sat on his chair like a gentleman during the whole visit. Now, why did he have Clancy up to the Hall? I’ll find out what that was about when he brings my carriage, after the auction.”

“It is our having such a flat time of it that has got him back in spirits. He said the smugglers would not come while we are here, and he’s right, as usual. I don’t sleep well in this house, Delsie. I shall go back home tonight. I’ll send the footmen back for the night to protect you. I can’t desert poor old Harold forever. Why don’t you come to me for dinner? Max and Harold must be missing us.”

It was a strong temptation. Delsie toyed with the thought for some minutes, before deciding she would allow a few more nights before she gave up on the pixies. Jane returned to her own home, and Delsie began an inventory of the silver, china, and other valuables belonging to her stepdaughter. Halfway through the cupboards, the dressmaker arrived, in answer to her request, and her work was interrupted for the delightful chore of being measured for gowns and discussing with the woman what patterns and materials to be used.

The time passed quickly. She had not thought it possible for deVigne to be back from the auction so quickly, when he came in just as the modiste was taking her leave. He led Mrs. Grayshott to the front door, to see standing before her a very elegant black carriage and a shiny team of bays to draw it.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, overwhelmed at so much luxury. “I must show Bobbie. Surely you didn’t get this lovely outfit for nine hundred pounds?”

“We got a good price for Andrew’s hunters. Macklsey from Merton was there and bid the price up. This whole rig-out will cost you very little more than nine hundred. A good bargain, I think.” He looked to her for congratulations.

“That’s a great deal of money, isn’t it?” she asked, but her demur was only automatic. Her eyes were sparkling and her lips smiling with pleasure. When she climbed into her carriage and sat back against the blue velvet squabs, she felt it was worth every penny of it. Not only Bobbie, but Miss Milne and the young servants from the Hall, ran out to admire this elegant addition to life at the Cottage. Just sitting inside was not enough. The family had to go for a drive for deVigne to demonstrate how well-sprung the coach was. A short run took them to the Dower House for Lady Jane and Harold to admire the acquisition. As it was close to teatime, the group took this repast together with Lady Jane.

When deVigne, Mrs. Grayshott, and Bobbie reentered the new carriage for the return to the Cottage, Max said, “You’ll have no excuse to be missing church now in rainy weather, cousin.”

“Very true. And I must call on Miss Frisk as well, now that I am mobile. It is shocking to have stayed away so long.”

“You’ve been in a state of siege,” he reminded her.

This called to mind Clancy’s visit at the Hall, and she asked him about it.

“I felt one of us ought to be civil to him after his driving from Merton to call. I only had him in for a drink before his long trek home.”

“I thought you didn’t like him.”

“I don’t. I confess I felt rather foolish to be caught red-handed, with my avaricious clutches on Bobbie.”

“What’s avaricious?” Bobbie asked.

“Greedy,” her uncle explained.

“Are you greedy, Uncle Max?”

“Ask your mama. She’s the schoolteacher.”

“Is Uncle Max greedy, Mama?”

“No, my dear, your uncle is not without faults, but I do not find him greedy.”

“What do you find him?” the child asked, occasioning a blush of embarrassment to come to the widow’s cheeks.

“I find him to be present, and it is not nice to discuss a person when he is present.”

“Aunt Jane says it’s not nice to talk about people behind their backs. That means you can’t ever talk about them,” Bobbie pointed out.

“She has a point, you know,” deVigne informed the widow, with a bland face. “For my part, I have no objection to a little discreet puffing up, even in my own presence.”