Free Polly's Story by Jennie Walters Page B

made a very efficient pair, if I do say so myself. Just as well, because the Vyes would shortly be going up to London for the season (Miss Eugenie was to be presented at Court, to complete her coming-out), and we would be starting on the spring cleaning when the weather had warmed up a little.
    Then came the second piece of good news. Jemima had been chosen to go up to London with the family and work as parlourmaid in the townhouse there for the season. That was a feather in her cap and no mistake; she went about looking very pleased with herself.
    ‘One way to wriggle out of the spring cleaning, I suppose,’ Mary remarked, but I didn’t mind in the slightest. She would be away until July or August at least, and that could only be another relief.
      And then just to fill my cup of happiness to the brim, I learnt that we were to be given Mothering Sunday as a holiday before the spring cleaning began, and could go home to visit our families! I could hardly wait, and counted off the days as February turned to March in an agony of impatience. Iris’s people were miles away up in Yorkshire so I invited her to come with me; Mother would not mind, and it would be nice to have some company on the journey.
    At last the great day came. The second coachman took the four of us maids off in the barouche to the railway station at Edenvale, about four miles away. Becky and Jane were going up to their families in South London, while Iris and I would go several stops down the line in the other direction to my village of Little Rising, where Mother would be waiting to meet us. I was wearing an old blouse and skirt of Miss Eugenie’s which Harriet had begged for me, since they would be quite out of fashion by the time they fitted her, and in the basket on my lap was a pair of stout boots for my little brother Tom, hardly worn, together with two of Harriet’s outgrown cotton frocks and a thick woollen coat which my sister Lizzie could wear next winter. Mrs Henderson had let us bake simnel cakes in the still-room range to take home and delicious smells were wafting up from my basket where the cake lay on top of the clothes, wrapped up in greaseproof paper.
    It was a fine day, so we had the hood folded back to look at the countryside as we trotted smartly through it - and to give poor Iris some air, as she was feeling rather queasy from the bucketing-about of the carriage. Everywhere was lush and green after all the rain we had been having; the trees and hedgerows were heavy with blossom or dotted with tightly-furled emerald buds on every branch, so fat you could almost feel them straining to burst open. Lambs frisked about in the fields, wagging their little woolly tails, rabbits scuttered away into the long grass before our wheels, and a springtime promise of new life blew towards us on the breeze. The birds were singing their hearts out, the sun was shining, and if I had been any happier I would have burst too.
    Becky smiled at me across the carriage. I must say, she was a great deal more pleasant to the rest of us when Jemima was not around. When we arrived at the station to find that there was a half hour to wait before either train arrived, she rummaged in her bag and took out a letter she had received from Jemima in London the week before which we could read to pass the time.
     
18 March, 1890
My dear Rebecca
Well, I am thoroughly ashamed for taking so long to write to you! The truth is, I have had scarcely a minute to myself since we arrived in Eaton Square. We have had quite a stream of visitors. All of London society seems to have come knocking at our door - no doubt to see Miss Eugenie, who must be one of the prettiest girls out this season. If you could only have seen her in the gown she wore to be presented at Court.
Lord and Lady Vye have been invited to several balls at Buckingham Palace and apparently Her Ladyship is becoming quite a favourite with the Prince of Wales. I should think he might well be invited to shoot at