The Drop of the Dice (Will You Love Me in September?)

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Authors: Philippa Carr
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knew a great deal about them. She was full of advice and, as she was very handy with her needle, she provided some exquisite garments.
    It was not surprising that with such events looming in the family we should not pay a great deal of attention to what was happening in the world.
    Carleton, of course, was aware of it, and extremely anxious. Old as he was, he was still interested in the country’s politics. Leigh and Jeremy were, too. I was aware of this because I was amused by the different reactions of them all; Carleton was staunchly anti-Catholic and his hatred of the Jacobites was the more intense because he would no longer be of an age to tackle them if ever they attempted to take over the country. Leigh believed that everything would settle down and he was ready to accept whatever monarch came; Jeremy feared the worst and expressed the opinion that if the Jacobites attempted to put James on the throne there would be war between the Catholic faction and the Protestant supporters of the Electress of Hanover.
    ‘The Queen is for her half-brother,’ declared Carleton. ‘She is bemused by family feeling. State affairs should be above sentimentality.’
    ‘The people will never accept James,’ said Jeremy. ‘There’ll be war if he lands.’
    ‘The mood of the country is for the Hanoverian branch,’ said Leigh. ‘It is because it is Protestant.’
    ‘They say the Queen won’t invite the Electress to come to England,’ said Jeremy.
    ‘But,’ pointed out Leigh, ‘there are some members of the government who are threatening to do just that.’
    And so it went on.
    The year passed uneasily, and all this talk about the succession seemed very boring to those of us who were thinking only of Damaris.
    We watched over her with care and our spirits were lifted when Priscilla declared she was sure Damaris was better than she had been during her previous pregnancies. We were longing for July to come, and yet dreading it.
    We became indifferent to the talk going on around us. Vaguely we heard mention of the Queen’s state of health. She was full of gout and could not walk. Names like Harley and Bolingbroke were often spoken of. I gathered there was some feud between them. Carleton stormed about ‘that besom Abigail Hill’, who, it seemed, ruled the country, for the Queen did everything that lady told her to.
    ‘She’s as bad as Sarah Churchill was,’ said Carleton. ‘ Women… that’s what it is. Petticoat government never did a country any good at all.’
    Arabella reminded us that under the reign of Elizabeth the country had been at peace and consequently more prosperous than at any other time. ‘Women have always ruled,’ continued Arabella, ‘though sometimes they are obliged to do it through men, but you may be sure they always had a hand in government.’
    Then he abused her and her sex in that way which showed clearly how much he admired her, and we all knew that he had a special fondness for the feminine members of society, so all this added a lighter note to the general brooding on what trials the future might hold.
    On the twenty-eighth of July Damaris’s pains started. It was a long and arduous confinement and the child was born on the thirtieth. How great was our joy to find that it was a healthy girl. Damaris was exhausted and there was some concern for her, but even that soon passed.
    ‘This will do her all the good in the world,’ said Priscilla. Jeremy sat by Damaris’s bed and held her hand. I was there too and I shall never forget the exalted look in Damaris’s eyes when the baby was put into her arms.
    The child was alive, breathing, healthy. At last she had achieved her goal.
    There was a great deal of discussion in the family as to what this precious and most important little girl should be called. Carleton wanted her to be Arabella and Arabella said that if she was going to be named after one of the family why not Priscilla. Leigh said that was an excellent idea, but Jeremy thought

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