Free Christmas Pudding and Pigeon Pie by Nancy Mitford

since then I’ve never had another opportunity to hunt.’
    ‘Oh, but I call that good! Now, I’ll tell you what, Monteath, as soon as this something foot and mouth has stopped I’ll lend you a horse. Yes, yes, it would be a pleasure – I’ve got more than I can ride myself as it is. And besides that I’ll give you a ride in the point-to-point, if you like.’
    ‘No, thank you,’ said Sally, firmly intervening. ‘I’ve got nicely used to being married to Walter now. There was a time when I thought the only ideal state would be that of widowhood,but now, what with the shortage of marrying men and one thing and another, I’m not at all sure about it. I believe I should miss the old boy a whole heap, you know. Besides, I need a man’s help with the little one. And Walter popped his riding boots last week.’
    The major winked at Walter and announced that he himself was a prominent member of the husbands’ union, and would see fair play. This remark scarcely seemed, in view of his own recent widowhood, to be in the best of taste, and was received in a somewhat embarrassed silence. This he broke himself by asking Amabelle how she had enjoyed her visit to old Mrs. Cole that morning.
    ‘Rather moderately, to tell you the truth,’ said Amabelle. ‘She looked so sweet and picturesque in her garden, feeding the chickens, that I simply had to go in; but poor old thing she is filthy, isn’t she? However, that can’t be her fault, because when I asked if I could send her anything from here she said she’d like some soap. So I sent some along at once, and I only hope she uses it.’
    The major began to laugh.
    ‘Are you sure it was soap she asked for?’ he said.
    ‘Quite sure. Yes, of course, what else could it have been?’
    ‘How about soup?’
    ‘Soup? Oh, no, it wasn’t soup; it was soap all right, I’m certain.’
    ‘Well, you’re wrong. She asked for soup, as a matter of fact.’
    ‘My dear! I mean my dear Major Stanworth, how awful, I sent soap.’
    ‘Yes, I know you did. And the big joke is that the poor old soul thought that you had sent soup tablets, so she boiled one for her dinner. The story was all round the village this afternoon. Leverett, my cowman, told me.’
    ‘Oh,’ said Amabelle, in tones of deep dismay. ‘Soup! Yes, I see. But I shall have to leave for London at once, shan’t I? I couldn’t stay on here after doing a thing like that. How awful!’
    ‘Now, Mrs. Fortescue, don’t you worry about it. I would never have told you, only I thought it was too good a joke for you to miss.’
    ‘I quite agree,’ said Walter.
    ‘Joke!’ cried Amabelle faintly.
    ‘Besides, I’ve fixed it all right for you. I went round to see her and took a couple of rabbits and told her that you were a bit hard of hearing. She was as pleased as Punch.’
    ‘Yes, but the other people in the village must think I’m such a monster.’
    ‘Oh,
no
, they’re all frightfully pleased. They hate old Granny Coles like fifteen different kinds of hell because in hot weather she uses the village water supply for her garden and nobody else can get any.’
    ‘She certainly doesn’t use it for any other purpose. But it is a bit embarrassing because that’s the second awful thing I’ve done here already.’
    ‘What’s the first?’
    ‘The parson came to call, you see, and asked me if I would give a pound towards the bier – he said they wanted if possible to collect forty pounds for it. I said I would give five pounds, and then I thought it would be polite to take a little interest, so I asked who was going to drink all that beer. What made it worse was that he thought I was trying to be funny, and he was fearfully annoyed.’

6
    Compton Bobbin is one of those houses which abound in every district of rural England, and whose chief characteristic is that they cannot but give rise, on first sight, to a feeling of depression in any sensitive observer. Nevertheless, a large, square and not unhandsome building,