Clarissa and the Poor Relations by Alicia Cameron Page B

was flustered whilst Grandiston admired the butler’s style. He had just such an old retainer on his own estate.
    ‘Estate business. Your mistress cannot mean to stay.’
    Sullivan looked down his nose in a manner that suggested that Staines was of questionable respectability. He regally ignored the intrusive question and paused meaningfully then said, ‘I will deliver your card to my mistress, sir’
    ‘What a fine specimen of a butler.’ declared Booth with great glee. ‘Sent us about our business and no mistake. No disreputable characters will storm this castle. Wouldn’t wager you buying this pile, Staines, she’s settling in. Mark my words, sir, settling in.’
    Oh, how I love you, Charles, thought Grandiston observing his Lordship’s affronted face. Pomposity withers in your presence.
    His eyes had taken in the well-polished floor behind Sullivan and the signs of work beginning in the garden. The ladies were indeed settling in, and though Grandiston did not yet know if this was to his advantage, the landlord in him applauded their actions. Had they bitten off more than they could chew, however? Dawdling behind the rest, he contrived to ask a farm labourer the name and direction of the estate’s agent.
    Next day, Lord Staines received a perfectly civil note from Clarissa regretting that the house was not yet in a fit state to receive visitors and that she herself was too busy with important estate matters to call as yet. She thanked him for his visit and hoped he would be at home to renew it after, say, a month had elapsed.
    This missive enraged Staines so much that despite his mother’s entreaties; he dashed off a letter to her brother, castigating him for not exercising more control over his sister.
    Returning home that evening after an interesting time spent in the Red Bull drinking his porter at the same time as Mr Elfoy’s nightly ale, Grandiston accosted Charles in the Hall.
    ‘Charles, the bloom is once more upon your cheek. The country air agrees with you.’
    ‘Grandiston. What are you about now?’ said the Honourable Mr Booth with a wary look.
    ‘Have you not thought Charles of your need, your quite urgent need, for a house in the country?’
    Next day at breakfast, the gentlemen informed Lady Staines of their intention of leaving. Upon her protestations of grief, Mr Booth imparted some good news.
    ‘Oh, ma’am, don’t give it a thought. As a matter of fact I’ve taken a real fancy to this country. Best shooting I’ve had in an age. Mean to take a house in the neighbourhood. Be neighbours, you know.’
    ‘But wherever can you mean to stay?’ said the lady, faintly.
    ‘Why the Dower House at Ashcroft, ma’am.’

 
     
 
Chapter 7
New Acquaintances
     
     
    Lady Staines was determined, after the insouciance of this announcement by Mr Booth, to meet Miss Thorne who must, she felt, be at the bottom of his desire to stay in Hertfordshire.
    She arrived at the door to be given the same message as her son at the hands of the stately Sullivan. However, his mother was made of sterner stuff.
    ‘Of course, it is too early to intrude. Give her my regards and say I will call again.’  She turned away with a faint smile, then turned back just as Sullivan had begun to shut the door. ‘I feel a little faint in the heat of this spring day. So silly of me. Might I have a glass of water?’ She put her delicate hand to her brow affectingly.
    Sullivan bowed low and ushered her into the hall. He appreciated that he had met a match in the frail lady. ‘Please take a seat in the library and I shall have someone attend you madam.’
    Soon Lady Staines was joined in the library by a fluttering lady of middle age wearing a dove coloured silk dress and a lace cap decorated with a bewildering number of dove satin ribbons and carrying in a glass of water.
    ‘My dear ma’am, so sorry to find you unwell, pray drinks this,’ said the lady and set about in a rather distracted way to plump some cushions and set