Free Jane Austen Stole My Boyfriend by Cora Harrison Page A

little sparrow.

    ‘You know dearest Jane, don’t you, Phylly?’
    Head on one side, Cousin Philadelphia surveyed Jane, from the toes of her neat flat-heeled shoes, right up her spotted yellow muslin morning dress with its tightly buttoned yellow spencer to the
tip of her straw bonnet, and then nodded vigorously.
    ‘Yes, of course . . . I remember you when you were about twelve – dear, dear, dear, what a strange little girl you were then! I remember thinking that it was a shame that your elder
sister had all the good looks.’ This was Philadelphia’s amiable reply, which she followed by saying, ‘So this is Jenny? Not a bit like her mother, is she?’ and peering at me
in a disapproving fashion.
    Jane made a face at me and turned to look out of the window.
    ‘Are you going out, Eliza?’ she enquired, ignoring Phylly. ‘We were hoping to go for a walk with you up the hill through the park. We have lots to tell you.’ She cast a
quick frowning glance at Philadelphia, who had now wandered over to Eliza’s dressing table and was sniffing distastefully at a jar of hair powder.
    Eliza looked a little worried as she said, ‘Phylly, darling, why don’t you have a little siesta – after all, you were out at all sorts of early hours this morning when I was
still endormie . I’ll look after the two girls.’
    ‘No, Cousin Eliza, I came to Bath to bear you company and I won’t desert you now.’ Phylly was grimly resolute. ‘Not that I enjoy Bath,’ she went on. ‘I
can’t stand the shiny newness of the place and the glare and the chatter, and of course it is so noisy that it’s no wonder that your poor nerves are shattered by it, Eliza. Don’t
you worry – you just take your ease and I will entertain the girls. Perhaps they would like to visit St Swithin’s church?’
    ‘No, we wouldn’t,’ said Jane abruptly. ‘Let’s go out then, Eliza, if you’re ready.’
    Eliza gave a last pat of the powder puff to her face, squirted on some scent, arranged her hat, with its elaborate bunches of cherries, to frame her small heart-shaped face and then picked up
her parasol and announced herself ready.
    ‘We might as well have gone with Mama and Aunt,’ Jane hissed furiously at me as we followed the two ladies, Philadelphia talking continuously about her good works back home in Kent
and how she insisted on some unfortunate village child learning to read and told his father to beat him because he had been slow and inattentive at her lesson. I decided that I didn’t like
this Phylly very much. I could see why Jane disliked her – everyone else said that I looked like my mother, so I think she meant to imply that I was plain.
    ‘Let’s visit some shops,’ said Eliza over her shoulder. ‘Come along, Phylly. I insist on buying you a new hat. Do allow me the pleasure.’
    ‘And then the hat that she has on can be returned to the scarecrow.’ Jane made the observation in a low tone, but definitely not a whisper. Philadelphia swung round sharply, but Jane
just smiled sweetly at her.
    ‘What I admire about you, Cousin Philadelphia,’ she said amiably, ‘is your great sense of humour. My father is always talking about it. No one has a greater sense of fun than
my niece Philadelphia, that’s what he says.’
    Jane uttered this with the earnest countenance that she always assumes when telling an outrageous lie, and Phylly gave an uncertain smile and continued walking.
    ‘Bother,’ said Jane in my ear. ‘Why didn’t she take offence and go back to their lodgings? Is there any way of getting rid of her? Could I push her under that omnibus, do
you think?’
    I looked at the omnibus and its four horses. It looked rather fun to be in, with its passengers of excited girls and gallant young men.
    And then I saw Harry, with a smart new hat which he was doffing as he came up to us.
    ‘Good afternoon, Miss Jenny, Miss J-Jane.’ Harry had a slight stutter from time to time. I thought it added to his