‘Good. I will look forward to seeing them both. It seems an age since we met. Eleanor will be astonished to see how much the children have grown.’

The conversation then naturally reverted to the three Plainter sprigs and their remarkable ability to increase their height and girth without any effort at all.


Saturday 16 February

An early start, a good journey and arrived at the abbey in time for luncheon. I told my father and sister about the rooms I had taken. My father was pleased with my description of them and said we will occupy them on Thursday. Then it was back to Woodston for me, where I exercised the dogs, thanked Miss Olsen for the pen-wiper she kindly brought round to the parsonage and then put the finishing touches to tomorrow’s sermon.



Sunday 17 February

A good turnout at church today. It had nothing to do with the mild weather and a desire to gossip and everything to do with my oratory skills, I am perfectly convinced. Indeed, if not for Mrs Attwood’s new bonnet, I would have had the ladies’ undivided attention. The gentlemen I was more certain of. They had no interest in bonnets, new or otherwise, and listened in pleasing silence, broken only by an occasional snore.



Thursday 21 February

Having made arrangements for my absence with Langton, my pleasingly eager curate, I drove over to the abbey where I found Eleanor with her nose in a novel.

‘There is no time to read,’ I said. ‘We must be off to Bath.’

‘My father has had to delay our journey on account of business,’ she said. ‘We do not now go until Saturday, and so I thought I would start one of the books you bought for me in London.’

‘I hope it is a good one, for we will need something to entertain us until we leave for Bath.’

‘It is excellent,’ she said. ‘Even better than A Sicilan Romance . I believe it is Mrs Radcliffe’s best novel.’

I saw the cover and said, ‘Ah, you have chosen The Mysteries of Udolpho. Excellent.’

She had only just begun, and after allowing me to catch up we read on together, becoming quickly engrossed – so much so, that we could scarcely bring ourselves to put the book down in order to eat. Poor Julia’s trials were as nothing to Emily’s tribulations. Sinister castles, murderers and banditti all conspired to instil terror in our heroine as she travelled through Europe, and we passed the day very pleasantly.

The evening was less pleasant. My father was at home, testy because his business had compelled him to delay our visit to Bath and expressing his dissatisfaction with his doctors and their advice that he should take the waters.

‘Stuff and nonsense,’ he said. ‘But at least some of my friends will be there.’

He did not appear to think it unfair that he had refused Eleanor the pleasure of a friend for company, for although she will have Mrs Hughes, and greatly enjoy her company, she needs companions of her own age, too. But perhaps Miss Morland ... Though some years younger than Eleanor, I think the two of them will like each other.



Friday 22 February

Being eager to continue with Udolpho, Eleanor and I set out for the arbour straight after breakfast so as to escape our father’s notice. It was no hardship to be out of doors, the morning being sunny, and our being so well wrapped up in coats and cloaks. We were soon thrilling to the adventures of Emily and cursing the evil Montoni. We had just reached the moment where Emily, lifting the black veil, caught a glimpse of what was on the other side and fainted, when my father came into the garden.

‘Eleanor! I have here a note, addressed to you, from a Mr Morris. In it, he talks of the house party we held in the autumn. It is, I suppose, the purpose of the rambling note to thank you as hostess of the party, though he expresses himself badly and thinks it necessary to refer to your kindness, your beauty, your humour and your graciousness in every other sentence.’ He tapped the note against his other hand and frowned, deep in thought. ‘Morris. Morris. I do not remember him. One of Frederick’s friends, I suppose. Did you like him?’

‘Yes, Father, I did,’ said Eleanor, with an expression of hope.

‘He was wealthy?’ asked my father.

Hope vanished.

‘I think not.’

‘He has a title perhaps?’ pursued my father.

‘He is the nephew of a viscount,’ I put in.

‘Is he?’ asked my father with interest. ‘And the viscount has no sons?’

‘He has three,’ said Eleanor, disdaining deceit.

‘Oh, in that case ... you must write to him – I will dictate the letter – thanking him for his note but making it clear that any further communication is neither necessary nor desirable.’

Eleanor had no choice but to comply with our father’s wishes.

I waited for her as best I could but poor Emily’s fate would give me no peace, so after a minute or two I took the novel into the Hermitage walk and devoured it, my hair standing on end the whole time.

Poor Eleanor, when she found me, could not attract my attention, so deeply was I engrossed. When at last I looked up, I could see that she was grieved over the unlucky circumstance of my father intercepting the note but resigned to his reaction, for she had expected nothing better.

‘There are times when our father is a regular Montoni,’ I said with sympathy.

‘I cannot blame my father. I should not have been corresponding with Mr Morris, it is not seemly,’ said Eleanor with a sigh.

‘Far be it from me to encourage filial disobedience, but the stable boys at Woodston are at your disposal should you need any more notes to be passed.’

‘Henry, you are too good to me,’ she said with a bright smile.

‘I must make amends somehow,’ I said.

‘For what?’

‘For the fact that I have finished the book.’

She looked at me in astonishment.

‘Already?’ she asked,

‘I could not put it down.’

‘Well, I forgive you. Tell me, what lay behind the black veil?’

Not wanting to spoil it, I said, ‘I think you had better read it yourself.’

She took the novel and was soon lost to the world, everything else forgotten in her perusal of the fantastical adventures of Emily.



Saturday 23 February

There were no unexpected delays and this morning we set out for Bath, arriving at our set of rooms just before noon. My father and Eleanor approved them and we had soon settled in. Mrs Hughes arrived shortly afterwards, having had a good journey, and we exchanged news over tea. Then Eleanor and Mrs Hughes fell to discussing the latest fashions as my father set out to take the waters and I went out riding. The weather was cold and it later came on to rain, but I was glad of the exercise, and after dinner I was able to join with my sister and Mrs Hughes in discussing the merits of long sleeves as compared to short sleeves, for such are now the fashion in Bath.

When the ladies withdrew, my father said that he had commanded Frederick to join us in Bath.

‘I cannot see that he has made any great mark in the army,’ said my father. ‘He is a captain but what is a captain? I expected better from him by now.’

I thought that it would be an uncomfortable meeting when my brother returned.



Sunday 24 February


Church was well attended this morning, despite the rain, and it made a change for me to be in the congregation. The sermon was on the evils of vanity, which did not prevent my sister and Mrs Hughes from making over some of their gowns this afternoon so that they would better suit the prevailing fashions, nor Eleanor from trimming a bonnet.



Monday 25 February

What was my delight this evening to find, when we went to the Upper Rooms, that Mrs Hughes was acquainted with Mrs Thorpe; that Mrs Thorpe was acquainted with Mrs Allen, and Mrs Allen in company with Miss Morland. I was amused to see the last-named smile at seeing me again, instead of pretending not to see me or favouring me with a cool nod, both of which greetings are very much in vogue with the usual young ladies in Bath.

Mrs Allen opened the proceedings by saying that she was happy to see me again, and when we had established that I had only left Bath in order to return with my family she was well pleased, saying that it was just the place for young people.

‘I tell Mr Allen, when he talks of being sick of it, that I am sure he should not complain, for it is so very agreeable a place, that it is much better to be here than at home at this dull time of year. I tell him he is quite in luck to be sent here for his health,’ she said.

I duly offered my hopes for Mr Allen’s health and, good relations being thus established, room was made for Mrs Hughes and my sister to sit down.

Mrs Thorpe’s attention was soon turned to her son and daughter, John and Isabella. The latter was dancing with Miss Morland’s brother, James. I liked the look of Mr Morland. There was something of the openness of his sister in his expression, for he could not disguise his admiration of Miss Thorpe. It was not to be wondered at, for Isabella Thorpe was exceedingly pretty.

Remembering how much I had enjoyed dancing with Miss Morland before, I offered her my hand, but instead of accepting with alacrity she looked mortified. My pride was salvaged when she explained that she was engaged to Mr John Thorpe for the first dance and so she must decline. Mr Thorpe, however, was nowhere to be seen, leaving his fair partner to sit alone and embarrassed at the side of the room when she should have been enjoying herself. So much for the honour of Mr Thorpe! However, it gave me a pleasing insight into the character of the lady, for it is rare thing in Bath – or anywhere else for that matter – to find a young lady who will forgo a pleasure merely because she has given her word elsewhere. Miss Morland, I felt, was worth knowing.