rough roads you have in this neighborhood. I think the set of my coat is permanently ruined.” Trelenny tried to catch her father’s eye, with no more success than she had had with her mother.
After Cousin Filkins had greeted her parents, he turned to Trelenny. “My, my, what a change there’s been in you, my girl.” He eyed her in such a way that the color rose to her cheeks. “Still have the freckles, I see. Not any better than you should be, ha ha. We’ll have to have a cozy chat. You’ll be wanting to know what the ladies are wearing in London.” He pinched her cheek between his chubby fingers and turned to Mr. Storwood. “Fine-looking gel you have. Pity to keep her off in the wilds. You won’t take offense if I just mention that knee breeches are out, will you? Even for evening wear, by Jove. Only the old fogies are wearing them to the balls and parties, and it’s only a matter of time before you will see the Prince Regent himself in trousers, mark my words. If you will be so good as to show me my room,” he continued, his bulging eyes now coming to focus once more on Trelenny, “I shall just refresh a bit and see what my man can do with this coat.”
“Certainly, Cousin Filkins.” As she led him through the hall and up the stairs she said, “I hope your journey has not been too trying. Sometimes the post boys go over the most hazardous roads at breakneck speed. You would think they would have more consideration for the horses.”
“Wouldn’t travel at all if I could avoid it,” Cousin Filkins grumbled as he puffed up the stairs behind her.
“Well, you’ll be settled here for a while now and I’m sure you will be comfortable. This is your room. I think you will find everything you need.”
“And where is your room, young lady?” he asked with a jovial laugh.
“In the other wing, sir.”
“This dress now,” he said, reaching out to touch the lace at the neckline, “would not be worn so high in London. It would be cut much lower, about here.”
Trelenny hastily stepped back to avoid his touch. “Clothing for the countryside is more practical, I think. Here’s your man to see to you.” Whereupon she fled.
~ ~ ~
The days took on an aura of unreality for Trelenny. Every vacant corridor became a potential meeting spot with Cousin Filkins. No matter that she had just left him with her parents in the drawing room, somehow he disengaged himself and appeared like a nightmare as she was turning the corner to her room, leering at her and making familiar comments under the guise of cousinly interest. Because of her disdainful comments on him before his arrival, she did not wish to go to her mother with tales of his behavior; and she would never have considered alarming her father with the story. Unschooled in how to handle such advances, she tried at first to placate him by turning the subject, and later by escaping by whatever means she could devise. The only place she was safe from him was when she rode, for the aging dandy would not come near a horse and never walked when he could be comfortably settled in a chair before a plate of biscuits.
But even if she had wished to, she could not ride all day, and her father admonished her for ignoring their guest when she absented herself for too long. On the night of his arrival Cousin Filkins had walked straight into her bedchamber as she was removing her shawl, laughed, and said, “Now how could I have made such a stupid mistake? I see your maid is not here. Can I help you with those buttons?” Fortunately her maid had appeared just then, and, not under the same restraints as Trelenny, harshly bade the old man remove himself immediately. Henceforth Trelenny had kept her door locked at all times.
Viscount Chessels and his son came to dine a few days after the visitor’s arrival, and Cranford was surprised at Trelenny’s lack of animation on the occasion. He had not expected her to show him any particular welcome, and she had not; but she was
After Cousin Filkins had greeted her parents, he turned to Trelenny. “My, my, what a change there’s been in you, my girl.” He eyed her in such a way that the color rose to her cheeks. “Still have the freckles, I see. Not any better than you should be, ha ha. We’ll have to have a cozy chat. You’ll be wanting to know what the ladies are wearing in London.” He pinched her cheek between his chubby fingers and turned to Mr. Storwood. “Fine-looking gel you have. Pity to keep her off in the wilds. You won’t take offense if I just mention that knee breeches are out, will you? Even for evening wear, by Jove. Only the old fogies are wearing them to the balls and parties, and it’s only a matter of time before you will see the Prince Regent himself in trousers, mark my words. If you will be so good as to show me my room,” he continued, his bulging eyes now coming to focus once more on Trelenny, “I shall just refresh a bit and see what my man can do with this coat.”
“Certainly, Cousin Filkins.” As she led him through the hall and up the stairs she said, “I hope your journey has not been too trying. Sometimes the post boys go over the most hazardous roads at breakneck speed. You would think they would have more consideration for the horses.”
“Wouldn’t travel at all if I could avoid it,” Cousin Filkins grumbled as he puffed up the stairs behind her.
“Well, you’ll be settled here for a while now and I’m sure you will be comfortable. This is your room. I think you will find everything you need.”
“And where is your room, young lady?” he asked with a jovial laugh.
“In the other wing, sir.”
“This dress now,” he said, reaching out to touch the lace at the neckline, “would not be worn so high in London. It would be cut much lower, about here.”
Trelenny hastily stepped back to avoid his touch. “Clothing for the countryside is more practical, I think. Here’s your man to see to you.” Whereupon she fled.
~ ~ ~
The days took on an aura of unreality for Trelenny. Every vacant corridor became a potential meeting spot with Cousin Filkins. No matter that she had just left him with her parents in the drawing room, somehow he disengaged himself and appeared like a nightmare as she was turning the corner to her room, leering at her and making familiar comments under the guise of cousinly interest. Because of her disdainful comments on him before his arrival, she did not wish to go to her mother with tales of his behavior; and she would never have considered alarming her father with the story. Unschooled in how to handle such advances, she tried at first to placate him by turning the subject, and later by escaping by whatever means she could devise. The only place she was safe from him was when she rode, for the aging dandy would not come near a horse and never walked when he could be comfortably settled in a chair before a plate of biscuits.
But even if she had wished to, she could not ride all day, and her father admonished her for ignoring their guest when she absented herself for too long. On the night of his arrival Cousin Filkins had walked straight into her bedchamber as she was removing her shawl, laughed, and said, “Now how could I have made such a stupid mistake? I see your maid is not here. Can I help you with those buttons?” Fortunately her maid had appeared just then, and, not under the same restraints as Trelenny, harshly bade the old man remove himself immediately. Henceforth Trelenny had kept her door locked at all times.
Viscount Chessels and his son came to dine a few days after the visitor’s arrival, and Cranford was surprised at Trelenny’s lack of animation on the occasion. He had not expected her to show him any particular welcome, and she had not; but she was
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