Clarissa and the Poor Relations by Alicia Cameron

somewhat reluctantly.
    Mr Elfoy looked at the barn. ‘You have been fixing the barn after all, I see Muggins.’ he exclaimed.
    Muggins drew himself up. ‘I have Mr Elfoy, sir. I took the stone from the old Martin’s farm, like I told you I would, even if I didn’t have permission of the late Lord. The beasts cannot await permission.’ He pronounced these words with an air of defiance looking latterly at Clarissa.
    Elfoy was about to speak, but Clarissa interrupted.
    ‘How sensible, Mr Muggins. I need just such a man who knows how to act on his own initiative to see to the garden. However, you must have much to do on the farm and you must not neglect it on my behalf.’
    Ah, how good she is with these people, thought Oriana. How quickly she learns. She exchanged warm looks of approval with Elfoy.
    ‘As to that ma’am, ‘twould be a pleasure. My father would have been taken bad to see the grounds as they are.’ He hesitated and looked at Clarissa with a flushed countenance, ‘I should not have taken the stone, for it rightly belongs to you, ma’am. My mother tells me I’m not a patient man. Per’aps you would like to step down and meet her, miss. She’d be much honoured.’
    The party dismounted and met Mrs Muggins, a round and cheery lady who regaled them with homemade scones and her own jam made only last year. As they sat in the cosy cottage Clarissa heard tales of her mother’s childhood when Mrs Muggins had been a maid in the great house.
    At last they were able to leave and as they rode towards the house, Clarissa, who had been unusually silent suddenly pulled up her horse and exclaimed, ‘I have it. Mr Elfoy, I have it. Our encounter with Muggins has given me the answer to all of our problems.’
    Oriana and Elfoy pulled up and looked at her in astonishment.
    ‘The West Wing.’
    Oriana said, ‘I thought, my dear Clarissa, you had agreed with Mr Elfoy that the cost of repairing the West Wing is not to be thought of. I did not know that you had any desire to do so.’
    ‘Of course I do not.’ said Clarissa impatiently; ‘We must sacrifice the West Wing entirely. It is of no use to me, but the stone and slate and timber might do proper repairs to cottages on the estate. It could do real good, instead of sitting uselessly at the edge of the house.’
    Mr Elfoy’s eyes lit up. Suddenly he could see a fast and reasonably inexpensive way to make the improvements his agent’s heart desired. ‘We could use the soldiers that have returned from the war to do the work. Many are wounded, but…No. Consider, Miss Clarissa. The stone was imported by your grandfather at great cost - you would reduce the size of a great house…’
    Clarissa interrupted, her eyes blazing excitement. She turned to Oriana. ‘Do you believe it could be done?’
    Oriana considered. In the last days she and Clarissa had seen hardship on the estate that had touched their compassionate souls: so much needing done, but with so little funds to do it. Once acting as Mistress of her father’s estate, she had been shocked to see what had been allowed to happen here to the tenants all for the want of a little management. Though they could make do for the next year or so, she had felt all the evils for the tenants that having an impoverished mistress might bestow and had even thought of advising a sale to allay their suffering. Now, however, there was a real hope. ‘I believe it could.’
    The three galloped to the house talking of labour and architects and feeling, at last, that they might do something really fine for Clarissa’s dependants.
    When Oriana took a breath, she fell a little behind to observe the other two laughing and planning, Tristram Elfoy lit up with a passion to put wrongs right and the practical shrewdness to do so. She saw how Clarissa hung on his words and garnered his expertise asking questions and matching him for enthusiasm. It was so rare to find a man share thoughts and plans so easily with a woman and Oriana