Free Jennie Kissed Me by Joan Smith Page B

enough to act on it.”
    “I have dozens of gowns I should be happy to be rid of.”
    “Silken gowns would not be much good to the poor, who do strenuous labor for a living. One cannot pick stones for the road or work in a dairy in a silk gown. Giving what you no longer want is not true charity, Victoria. You must give what will be useful—which is not to say you cannot give those excess gowns to some relative less favored than yourself.”
    “I’ll do it tomorrow. And we shall visit Mrs. Munson, too. She had twins last week, Jennie. Would you not like to see them?”
    “Indeed I would. Who is this Mrs. Munson?”
    “She is a tenant.”
    “I daresay she would appreciate a meal from your kitchen—soup or a joint or something of that sort —while she is unable to cook.”
    A pensive look settled on her pretty little face. “I wonder how the family eat while she is in bed. They have no servants.”
    I was happy to see I had directed her thoughts in the proper direction and encouraged her along these lines. It was arranged that our driving lesson the next day would take us to Mrs. Munson’s house, bearing food.
    Lady Victoria took her new duties seriously. A hamper large enough to feed an army was delivered to the Munsons’ house the next day. The twins were delightful—boys with golden wisps of curls and faces like angels and tiny little fists. The mother looked more shocked than pleased to see us but thanked us very prettily. Victoria was allowed to hold one boy, I the other. The strength of the emotion that seized me as I held the infant was astonishing. I felt a fierce love of it. How much stronger must the sensation be when a lady holds her own child in her arms?
    I began to feel, over the few days before Marndale’s return, that Victoria had been a bud waiting to open. A little guidance was like sun and water to her better nature. Her hankering for my approval was almost pathetic. She would come running to me, telling me she was cutting flowers for the church altar, or sending some clothes to someone called Cousin Alicia, who apparently felt the lack of new gowns; and once she said she had set aside a tenth of her allowance to give the vicar to dispense to worthy parishioners.
    “That was well done, Victoria. Don’t you feel the better for it?” I asked.
    “Oh, yes, I never felt so happy in my life.” She did look more alive. Her eyes glowed, and her face had entirely lost its sullen look. “There is a great pleasure in doing good deeds. I am thinking of devoting my life to charity.”
    I felt sure this white hot enthusiasm would dwindle to a more acceptable level with no urging from me, but the seed had been planted, and she would, hopefully, do as much as she ought.
    We were now close enough that I ventured to quiz her about the Simon family. “Who is this Desmond the girls mentioned?” I asked calmly.
    “He’s their older brother.”
    “Handsome, is he?”
    “He was sent to a good public school and has better manners, though he is not precisely handsome.”
    “Is he a beau?” I asked quizzingly.
    “Oh, no, I am just using him for practice when I make my curtsey next year.”
    “That is rather cruel to Desmond, is it not? You might raise hopes that you have no plan to fulfill.”
    “I never thought of that! I am so selfish!”
    “A lady always treats others as she would wish to be treated if she were in their place. Now you would not want Desmond toying with your emotions, would you?”
    “No, toying and playing are for children. I shall be a little cooler in future. Still friendly, for I must not hurt their feelings, but cooler. Perhaps you and I shall drop in one day,” she said, for all the world like a dowager arranging her strategy. “But I shan’t flirt with Desmond.”
    Marndale was to return on Friday afternoon. Victoria was eager to be home to greet him and looking her best. “For he does not usually come alone,” she mentioned with a teasing look. “You must tidy your hair,