Free A School for Brides by Patrice Kindl

dance was got up in the school parlor, with Miss Briggs on the pianoforte and the dancers treading on one another’s toes and tripping over the furniture in the too-small room. Despite these difficulties, however, they took great delight in the exercise and one another’s company, and danced until a wind from the sea blew the rain and clouds away, revealing a bright moon that peered in at them from the windows and drenched the scene with its silvery light.

    The morrow dawned clear and dry, and good news came from both Gudgeon Park and Crooked Castle: Lady Boring was delivered of a little girl and Mrs. Fredericks of a little boy. While it was too soon to be certain that the dreaded childbed fever would be avoided, the children and mothers alike were pronounced healthy and whole.
    Miss Winthrop set out for Yellering Hall with Miss Pffolliott and Miss Mainwaring and a determined glint in her eyes. Miss Pffolliott was to accompany them as far as the post office, while Miss Mainwaring’s role was more of a silent witness. Should Lady Throstletwist seem likely to withdraw her promised invitation, Miss Mainwaring could, by her very presence, shame her into honoring it.
    However, this proved unnecessary. Lady Throstletwist was resigned to her fate—both Mrs. Fredericks and Lady Boring might be momentarily distracted by family affairs, but they were great ladies in the small society of Lesser Hoo. She could not afford to offend Lady Boring, whose revenge could be terrible, and did not wish to disappoint Mrs. Fredericks, of whom she was fond. She wrote out two gracious little notes, one to the young gentlemen and one to Lady Boring, congratulating the latter on her daughter’s safe delivery, and begging the former to look upon her home as theirs for so long as they might wish to remain in the county.
    Miss Winthrop, hoping to soothe any fears the lady might have for her housekeeping allowance, assured Lady Throstletwist that the young gentlemen were keen sportsmen and anxious to present their kind hosts with the results for their table.
    â€œWhy, I believe that Lady Boring’s cook still has not exhausted the birds they brought with them from Scotland,” offered Miss Mainwaring. “They are fine shots.”
    â€œYou’re in the right
there
,” Sir Quentin, husband to Lady Throstletwist, interposed. “We dined at the Park a week ago. Never ate so much grouse in my life.
Crème de grouse
soup, grouse pie, kippered grouse, grouse cutlets. Even that candied dish they gave us for a sweet—that tasted a good deal like fowl to me, m’dear, no matter
what
you say.”
    â€œYes, yes, dear,” said Lady Throstletwist hastily. “You must equip them with your fishing tackle, and perhaps we can introduce a little variety in their offerings.”
    â€œProbably foul the lines and lose my flies that I’ve tied,” grumbled the old knight. “
I
know what young men are, nothing but a pack of buffleheads. Most likely get bored and throw my entire kit into the stream—”
    â€œWe shall be charmed to entertain Mr. Crabbe and his friends,” cut in Lady Throstletwist, fixing her husband with a stern eye. “When one grows older, you know, one has a tendency to become rather
set in one’s ways
. It will be good for us to have some young blood around the house for a change.”
    â€œOh, very well,” said Sir Quentin morosely, and offered no further objections—at least, not while the ladies’ visit lasted.
    While Miss Mainwaring was dispatched to Gudgeon Park with the notes and Miss Winthrop walked home, Miss Pffolliott was having adventures. She had collected the mail, partly grateful to find no love letter to embarrass her before Mrs. Hodges, and partly regretful at the same circumstance. She was returning to the school, walking briskly and enjoying the fine late summer day, when a man stepped out from behind a rough stone wall and barred her