call on the Throstletwists early enough in the day to forestall them, and our other friends, from calling on us. As delightful as it is to entertain one’s neighbors, I prefer not to do so too often—the incidental expenses are rather higher than our domestic economy can withstand.
I had some difficulty in wresting Charity and Prudence from the depths of slumber, however. They wailed and attempted to retreat under the bedclothes again. When I persisted, they demanded tea and toast before they would consider rising from their beds. At last, however, with the assistance of their maid, I succeeded in getting them dressed for the day and prodded and pushed them out the front door. Collecting my mother and little Alexander, we prepared to walk to Yellering Hall.
Alas, my exertions were futile. No sooner had we gained the front walk than Charity demanded that we wait while she fetched a parasol for the sun. Once she’d rejoined us we had to retrieve Alexander out of a large bush into which he had chased a cat, and then Prudence turned back, requiring a ribbon for her hair of a slightly different hue than the one I had selected. I urged the rest of our party to press on without her, but to no avail. A large mass of humanity and horseflesh was visible, advancing up the drive. Four coaches and several men on horseback were hastening towards Crooked Castle, bent on receiving hospitality. I sighed and retreated, outmaneuvered.
However, I had resources at my command that had not been available the last time we received guests; they would not go away hungry. The strawberries were fast ripening, and there would be some cream left from the milking. It was a pity—I had planned to make strawberry jam for the winter—but there was no help for it. I murmured in my mother’s ear, retreated to the kitchen and gave my directions to Cook.
I was pleased but not surprised to find that Lord Boring had come, and surprised but not pleased that he had brought along his unpleasant cousin. I had rather supposed Mr. Fredericks’s presence last night to be accidental, as a result of his bumbling into the ballroom in mistake for some much humbler clerical office. Yet here he was, looking discontentedly about himself and remarking more than once that Boring had browbeaten him into making the visit; he couldn’t in the least imagine why.
“Upon my word, Fredericks,” exclaimed Lord Boring, “looking at these charming and lovely ladies”—he bowed to my mother and then to my stepsisters, who tittered, and finally to me—“you wonder why I should wish to call on them? I do believe you’ve lost every trace of gallantry and civilized behavior in your time away from England.”
Mr. Fredericks contented himself with uttering a short, satirical laugh in response. My small brother, Alexander, looked up at him in wonder and then burst into tears, climbing into my mother’s lap for comfort. Mr. Fredericks seemed somewhat nonplused by this outburst and, casting about himself for a peace offering, held out a strawberry still warm from the sun to the child. Knowing, as I did, that Alexander was stuffed brimful with purloined sweets from the ball, I did not expect this to be a success, but after a long, grave look and a hiccupping sigh, Alexander took the strawberry and began to nibble at it.
“In any case,” continued Lord Boring, ignoring this small contretemps, “you know that the doctor has ordered rest and a change of scene for you, and you also know quite well that you have been itching to get a good look at Crawley Castle. As have I,” he added.
“Yes,” admitted Mr. Fredericks, “I have, but you rousted me out just when I was getting down to the heart of that Beddoes contract. There’s something rotten there, I can smell it.”
“You shall sniff out rotten contracts to your heart’s content when we return. Just now we are paying a social call.” His Lordship turned to me. “The Marquis, by-the-by, sends his compliments and apologies for not calling on you. He has business to attend to in York today. But perhaps, Miss Crawley, as great-granddaughter of the original owner, you would be so good as to give Fredericks and me a brief tour of the public rooms?” He bowed to my stepsisters and continued, “I should be sorry to put the Misses Winthrop to the trouble.”
Prudence gave way easily enough. The Baron’s appearance, wealth and position put him beyond her