of her gown and as she leaped up and moved away there was the sound of tearing material and she saw that the train was almost torn from her skirt.
Poor Dr Nott, he was the sort of man, she reflected, who would often find himself in embarrassing situations.
‘Your Highness’s pardon … I fear I have ruined your gown. How unfortunate. It would only have been a little tear if it had not run as it did.’
Charlotte examined the damage.
Then she burst into loud laughter.
‘Well, we can hardly blame you because it ran, Doctor. You most surely held it!’
Then rolling the torn train about her arm she ran out of the room, leaving the saddened Dr Nott shaking his head over this most difficult, unaccountable and wild young pupil, who could at times be lovable.
The result of the writing of that will was certainly felt throughout the household.
Mrs Campbell resigned. Her ill health made it essential, she said, but everyone knew it was due to the horrible things that were being whispered of how she was trying to win benefits from the Princess by flattery.
Dr Nott was suspected of the same fault. He did not leave but he too pleaded ill health. He needed a rest from his duties, he declared, which with such an important pupil were indeed arduous.
Charlotte was in despair. She had lost Mrs Campbell and now Dr Nott was talking of going. And she was left with the Bish-Up and Mrs Udney. They were the ones who should have gone.
She went to Lady de Clifford and told her how she enjoyed her studies with Dr Nott, how she felt it would be impossible to work without him. He must go away for a little rest because he was ill, but he must promise to come back.
At length it was arranged that this should be the case and Charlotte took a tearful farewell of Mrs Campbell.
Meanwhile there was the Bishop, whose visits were more frequent during the temporary departure of Dr Nott.
And Mrs Udney remained, sly and calculating, with a temper – carefully concealed – which rivalled Charlotte’s.
How strange the things that can happen to a princess and those who serve her, thought Charlotte – the Bish-Up who had his bible and prayer book and Mrs Udney who had nothing seem more content than dear Campbell with her promised jewels and Dr Nott with his future bishopric.
There was a lesson in it, she was sure.
But then, was there not a lesson in everything?
Minney, Prinney and Mrs Fitzherbert
MRS FITZHERBERT SAT on her balcony looking over the Steyne and watched the scene below. Brighton – the place she loved best in the whole world because she had known such happiness there. Now that the Prince had made such extensive alterations at the Pavilion she had moved from the little house she had occupied close by, but this one suited her perfectly. It was to her the homeshe shared with her husband and her dearest daughter.
It was a strange irony of fate that many would say that the man she called her husband was not, and her daughter was adopted.
She shivered a little in the bright May air, for an awareness of the uncertainty of life had come to her. All was happy at the moment, but she knew it could change within a few weeks.
The Prince would always have an eye for women and although he assured her at every meeting that she was his dear love, his soul, the wife of his heart, that did not prevent his indulging in minor love affairs now and then. He always returned to her penitent and contrite but because she had a hot temper she could not always restrain her comments. There could be a little rift and although the reconciliations which followed were pleasing to them both, there were moments of uneasiness when she felt that she wished to imprison every bright moment and keep it for ever – just in case in the future there was change.
And then Minney – darling Minney – her comfort and solace, her beloved child could be snatched away from her by her relatives who were at times trying to take her. Life was full of alarming possibilities.
Miss
Poor Dr Nott, he was the sort of man, she reflected, who would often find himself in embarrassing situations.
‘Your Highness’s pardon … I fear I have ruined your gown. How unfortunate. It would only have been a little tear if it had not run as it did.’
Charlotte examined the damage.
Then she burst into loud laughter.
‘Well, we can hardly blame you because it ran, Doctor. You most surely held it!’
Then rolling the torn train about her arm she ran out of the room, leaving the saddened Dr Nott shaking his head over this most difficult, unaccountable and wild young pupil, who could at times be lovable.
The result of the writing of that will was certainly felt throughout the household.
Mrs Campbell resigned. Her ill health made it essential, she said, but everyone knew it was due to the horrible things that were being whispered of how she was trying to win benefits from the Princess by flattery.
Dr Nott was suspected of the same fault. He did not leave but he too pleaded ill health. He needed a rest from his duties, he declared, which with such an important pupil were indeed arduous.
Charlotte was in despair. She had lost Mrs Campbell and now Dr Nott was talking of going. And she was left with the Bish-Up and Mrs Udney. They were the ones who should have gone.
She went to Lady de Clifford and told her how she enjoyed her studies with Dr Nott, how she felt it would be impossible to work without him. He must go away for a little rest because he was ill, but he must promise to come back.
At length it was arranged that this should be the case and Charlotte took a tearful farewell of Mrs Campbell.
Meanwhile there was the Bishop, whose visits were more frequent during the temporary departure of Dr Nott.
And Mrs Udney remained, sly and calculating, with a temper – carefully concealed – which rivalled Charlotte’s.
How strange the things that can happen to a princess and those who serve her, thought Charlotte – the Bish-Up who had his bible and prayer book and Mrs Udney who had nothing seem more content than dear Campbell with her promised jewels and Dr Nott with his future bishopric.
There was a lesson in it, she was sure.
But then, was there not a lesson in everything?
Minney, Prinney and Mrs Fitzherbert
MRS FITZHERBERT SAT on her balcony looking over the Steyne and watched the scene below. Brighton – the place she loved best in the whole world because she had known such happiness there. Now that the Prince had made such extensive alterations at the Pavilion she had moved from the little house she had occupied close by, but this one suited her perfectly. It was to her the homeshe shared with her husband and her dearest daughter.
It was a strange irony of fate that many would say that the man she called her husband was not, and her daughter was adopted.
She shivered a little in the bright May air, for an awareness of the uncertainty of life had come to her. All was happy at the moment, but she knew it could change within a few weeks.
The Prince would always have an eye for women and although he assured her at every meeting that she was his dear love, his soul, the wife of his heart, that did not prevent his indulging in minor love affairs now and then. He always returned to her penitent and contrite but because she had a hot temper she could not always restrain her comments. There could be a little rift and although the reconciliations which followed were pleasing to them both, there were moments of uneasiness when she felt that she wished to imprison every bright moment and keep it for ever – just in case in the future there was change.
And then Minney – darling Minney – her comfort and solace, her beloved child could be snatched away from her by her relatives who were at times trying to take her. Life was full of alarming possibilities.
Miss
Similar Books
