long row of single dwellings, some of them little thatched cottages and terrace houses set right on the road, others more substantial homes—the old estates, manses, and farmhouses of the past—set much farther back and preceded by stately long private drives.
“Well, you weren’t kidding,” Yardley was saying as they walked closely together, arms linked. “Some of these cottages are so small and self-contained, I feel like a bunch of munchkins could pop out at any minute.”
“I think quaint is the word you are looking for.” Mimi laughed. “I love it.”
“I can imagine your face now, when Jack told you he’d bought you that cottage. You must have felt like you’d died and gone to heaven.”
She smiled in recalling the memory. “That’s exactly how I felt. So, if you look up ahead at the end of this road, you can see the fields starting up again. The village sits plop in the middle of what feels like one big farm.”
“You know, I never told you this before, but when I was a young lad I actually dreamt of being a farmer.”
Mimi stopped to stare at Yardley. “You are full of surprises.”
“No, seriously, sometimes I still do. A gentleman farmer, though. Back-breaking work and way too dependent on the weather for a full-time vocation.”
Up ahead they could see a fairly stocky blond man with a cap on his head leaving one of the little cottages on the right-hand side of the lane. Something about him struck Mimi as so familiar.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “I know that guy! I met him here, years ago, when I was just out of college.”
“Ah, yes, your first pilgrimage.” Yardley watched the man walk slowly up the lane in front of them, his head slightly bowed, two or three books held in the curve of his right arm. “Very earthy looking—very D. H. Lawrence. You do have an eye for these things, I’ll give you that.”
She playfully whacked Yardley’s side with the back of her hand. “It was so sad—he’d lost both his brothers in the Great War. It was one of the reasons I made Home & Glory years later.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” Yardley said facetiously, “you’re a movie star.…”
Mimi ignored his playful dig. “He helped me find the graves, remember, of Cassandra and their mother? He’d never read a word of Jane Austen himself, though. It’s sad—he looks so, I don’t know, lonely somehow. The way he’s walking. He looked lonely then, too.”
“Where are we heading, by the way?”
“The first house on the corner of Wolf’s Lane, with the rosebushes out front and the green door. A Dr. Gray’s house.”
They watched up ahead as the man in the cap walked a few more yards and then turned to cross the street at the intersection of Wolf’s Lane and Winchester Road. He moved the books to his left arm, then knocked on the green front door of the rose-covered house with his right.
“Well, what do you know?” said Yardley. “One of the romantics.”
They looked at each other and smiled.
Chapter Twenty-two
Chawton, Hampshire
February 2, 1946
The Second Meeting of the Jane Austen Society
The first order of business was to welcome Frances Knight, Evie Stone, Mimi Harrison, and Yardley Sinclair to the Jane Austen Society and to approve both Frances Knight and Yardley Sinclair as the fourth and fifth trustees of the Jane Austen Memorial Trust. It had already been decided that Mimi should not take on the role and responsibilities of trusteeship, given her permanent residence in the States. And, as with Adam, Evie Stone would also be spared any of the possible legal, financial, and administrative burdens of involvement with the trust.
In light of his other role as executor of the Knight estate, Andrew was quick to point out Miss Knight’s potential interest in the cottage and the possibility of conflicts arising as a result. Accordingly, Miss Knight agreed to abstain from any vote on the use of trust funds to purchase the cottage or any other property to which she might still end up heir.
“So,” Dr. Gray said to the room from his seat near the front window, “we have five trustees in place, and a mission statement in the minutes that reflects our goal of acquiring the cottage as a future museum site in honour of Jane Austen. As chairman, I move that, in addition to our December motion to post a notice in the papers seeking public subscriptions, we now pursue with haste the possibility of any necessary bank loans.”
“Do we need to act