if it’s wrong.”
Mrs. Grayshott was relieved there was to be no charade of her being a grieving widow. “What a dreadful thing to say, but I am not the least sorry,” she admitted.
“No more you should be! There’s no point in our whispering and wearing long faces, as though you were a real widow, is there, my dear? Of course not. Such nonsense. Let us just sit down by the fire and have a nice coze, and become acquainted, as we are connections now. It’s nice to have a new family member to chat with, and a female too. I have missed the luxury. You must be happy to be out of the parish school. A killing job for a lady.”
“Yes, like the death of Mr. Grayshott, I cannot pretend to any sorrow over it. It was horrid.”
“Leave it for the men. They get all the good things in life, let them take the bad along with it. I’ll call for a cup of tea,” Lady Jane said, nodding in approval of her own sensible sentiments. “I noticed you didn’t take a bite of lunch. Pity, the asparagus looked very good. I’ll have Max send some over for our dinner. He has excellent succession houses. We never want for fresh fruit—oranges and pineapples. So, Miss Sommers—oh, dear! That will never do—Mrs. Grayshott. I daresay you like that even less. May I call you Delsie? That is your name, I believe?”
“That will do very well, milady.”
“Well then, Delsie, we have a few things to discuss. Though entre nous we are not to pretend to any sort of mourning, the proprieties must be observed in public. Do you have mourning clothes?”
“Yes, I have my things from my mother’s death. I shall need a few more gowns now that I am—here.” She hardly knew what words to use to indicate her awareness of the superior surroundings in which she now found herself.
“A few gowns for evening wear, I think. We dress for dinner, though I shouldn’t think you and Bobbie will bother when you dine at the Cottage together. But we don’t mean to abandon you there in the least. We are all one big happy family here. Usually Max dines with us, or we with him. I should be quite talking to myself otherwise, for my husband is not at all sociable, nor can we leave Max rolling around all alone in that big castle, you must know. It would be too cruel. Andrew took no part in our get-togethers, but we hope you mean to do so.”
This pleasant method of taking meals and probably passing an evening sounded delightful, and, with a thought to her narrow wardrobe, Delsie realized she would indeed require additions to it. “I should be happy to join you,” she said.
“After you have got the Cottage set to rights—a shambles, is it not?—you shall take your turn of entertaining us as well. Now, about other matters than mourning clothes, there will be callers coming for the next few days. They ought not to do so till after the burial, by rights, but every person one knows will do it, thinking he is the only one, and that company will help. So what we must decide is where to greet them. Or do you want to meet them at all? Max feels the proper time to reveal the wedding—I should have said announce, but with such a hole-in-the-wall affair, reveal sounds the proper term—anyway, Max thinks it should be done at once. Let the village get over the shock of it as soon as possible, and while there is the death to help take their minds off it. It will be less uncomfortable for you to meet people as Andrew’s widow at the funeral calls, when they must maintain a decent decorum. Can’t be asking too many prying questions of a widow, and if they get too far out of line, you can always draw out a handkerchief and start dabbing at your eyes. Max and I will give a good snub to the first one who tries it. Are you any good at a snub yourself, Delsie?”
This drew forth a light laugh. “I snub students very well, but I confess I haven’t much experience of snubbing anyone else.”
“Ah—that surprises me. I took the notion from Max that you might have given
Mrs. Grayshott was relieved there was to be no charade of her being a grieving widow. “What a dreadful thing to say, but I am not the least sorry,” she admitted.
“No more you should be! There’s no point in our whispering and wearing long faces, as though you were a real widow, is there, my dear? Of course not. Such nonsense. Let us just sit down by the fire and have a nice coze, and become acquainted, as we are connections now. It’s nice to have a new family member to chat with, and a female too. I have missed the luxury. You must be happy to be out of the parish school. A killing job for a lady.”
“Yes, like the death of Mr. Grayshott, I cannot pretend to any sorrow over it. It was horrid.”
“Leave it for the men. They get all the good things in life, let them take the bad along with it. I’ll call for a cup of tea,” Lady Jane said, nodding in approval of her own sensible sentiments. “I noticed you didn’t take a bite of lunch. Pity, the asparagus looked very good. I’ll have Max send some over for our dinner. He has excellent succession houses. We never want for fresh fruit—oranges and pineapples. So, Miss Sommers—oh, dear! That will never do—Mrs. Grayshott. I daresay you like that even less. May I call you Delsie? That is your name, I believe?”
“That will do very well, milady.”
“Well then, Delsie, we have a few things to discuss. Though entre nous we are not to pretend to any sort of mourning, the proprieties must be observed in public. Do you have mourning clothes?”
“Yes, I have my things from my mother’s death. I shall need a few more gowns now that I am—here.” She hardly knew what words to use to indicate her awareness of the superior surroundings in which she now found herself.
“A few gowns for evening wear, I think. We dress for dinner, though I shouldn’t think you and Bobbie will bother when you dine at the Cottage together. But we don’t mean to abandon you there in the least. We are all one big happy family here. Usually Max dines with us, or we with him. I should be quite talking to myself otherwise, for my husband is not at all sociable, nor can we leave Max rolling around all alone in that big castle, you must know. It would be too cruel. Andrew took no part in our get-togethers, but we hope you mean to do so.”
This pleasant method of taking meals and probably passing an evening sounded delightful, and, with a thought to her narrow wardrobe, Delsie realized she would indeed require additions to it. “I should be happy to join you,” she said.
“After you have got the Cottage set to rights—a shambles, is it not?—you shall take your turn of entertaining us as well. Now, about other matters than mourning clothes, there will be callers coming for the next few days. They ought not to do so till after the burial, by rights, but every person one knows will do it, thinking he is the only one, and that company will help. So what we must decide is where to greet them. Or do you want to meet them at all? Max feels the proper time to reveal the wedding—I should have said announce, but with such a hole-in-the-wall affair, reveal sounds the proper term—anyway, Max thinks it should be done at once. Let the village get over the shock of it as soon as possible, and while there is the death to help take their minds off it. It will be less uncomfortable for you to meet people as Andrew’s widow at the funeral calls, when they must maintain a decent decorum. Can’t be asking too many prying questions of a widow, and if they get too far out of line, you can always draw out a handkerchief and start dabbing at your eyes. Max and I will give a good snub to the first one who tries it. Are you any good at a snub yourself, Delsie?”
This drew forth a light laugh. “I snub students very well, but I confess I haven’t much experience of snubbing anyone else.”
“Ah—that surprises me. I took the notion from Max that you might have given
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