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Authors: Georgette Heyer
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Rector. ‘Sir Waldo has been admiring our little Church, and I have promised to show him the twelfth-century piscina – our greatest pride, is it not?’
He moved away, and Sir Waldo, with a smile and a bow to the ladies, followed him. But when the flowers were arranged to Ancilla’s satisfaction, and she picked up her basket, nodding to Charlotte to come away with her, the Rector joined her, and the whole party left the Church together. Ancilla found herself walking beside Sir Waldo down the path leading to the Rectory; declined his offer to carry the basket; and asked him civilly how he liked the Yorkshire scene.
‘Very well – as much as I have seen of it,’ he replied. ‘As yet, that’s not very much: I have been spending most of my time in Leeds. I hope presently to see more of the countryside. My young cousin has been exploring far and wide, and is enthusiastic; says it is finer by far than his own county. That’s because the Squire has put him in the way of getting some excellent fishing.’
She laughed. ‘I hope he will enjoy good sport – though my small experience informs me that catching fish is not necessary for your true angler’s enjoyment.’
‘Oh, no! But to lose a fish is quite another matter!’
‘Certainly! One cannot wonder that it should cast even the most cheerful person into gloom, for it is always such an enormous one that escapes!’
‘I begin to think you are yourself an angler, ma’am: you are so exactly right!’
‘Indeed I am not! I was used to accompany my brothers sometimes, when I was a girl, but I very soon discovered that it was not at all the sport for me. When I caught nothing – which was in general the case – I found it a dead bore, and when a fish did get on my hook I was at a loss to know what to do with it, because I can’t bear handling fish! They wriggle so!’
They had reached the wicket-gate; he held it open for her, saying gravely: ‘They do, don’t they? So slimy, too! Almost as disagreeable as Miss Charlotte’s twitching horses!’
She stepped past him into the garden, but paused there, waiting for Charlotte and the Rector to join them. ‘Poor Charlotte! It was too bad of Mr Chartley to poke fun at her, for she has tried so hard to overcome her fear of horses, and is secretly much ashamed of it. Pray don’t laugh at her!’
‘You may be sure I shan’t. I should be far more likely to recommend her not to give the matter another thought. Now, why do you look surprised, ma’am?’
She coloured faintly. ‘Did I do so? Perhaps because it did surprise me a little to hear you say that – being yourself, so I’m told, such a notable horseman.’
He raised his brows. ‘But must I therefore despise those who don’t care for horses?’
‘No – but I have frequently observed that gentlemen who are addicted to sporting pursuits are prone to despise those whose interests are quite different.’ She added quickly: ‘It is very understandable, I daresay!’
‘I should rather call it intolerably conceited,’ he replied. He regarded her quizzically. ‘Furthermore, ma’am, I have a notion that it is you who despise those of us who are addicted to sport!’
‘That’s to say I’m intolerably conceited,’ she countered, smiling. ‘I am afraid I deserved it!’
They were interrupted by the Rector, who came up with Charlotte at that moment. He suggested that Sir Waldo should return to the house with them, but this was declined. Sir Waldo took his leave of the ladies, and went off with the Rector towards the stables.
Charlotte was plainly bursting to discuss the unexpected encounter, but Ancilla checked her, begging her to reserve her remarks until they should be out of earshot of her very penetrating voice. She was obedient, and listened docilely enough to a warning against any indiscreet utterance; but Ancilla knew her too well to place much reliance on her assurance that she would mind her tongue. As soon as she became excited, she would
He moved away, and Sir Waldo, with a smile and a bow to the ladies, followed him. But when the flowers were arranged to Ancilla’s satisfaction, and she picked up her basket, nodding to Charlotte to come away with her, the Rector joined her, and the whole party left the Church together. Ancilla found herself walking beside Sir Waldo down the path leading to the Rectory; declined his offer to carry the basket; and asked him civilly how he liked the Yorkshire scene.
‘Very well – as much as I have seen of it,’ he replied. ‘As yet, that’s not very much: I have been spending most of my time in Leeds. I hope presently to see more of the countryside. My young cousin has been exploring far and wide, and is enthusiastic; says it is finer by far than his own county. That’s because the Squire has put him in the way of getting some excellent fishing.’
She laughed. ‘I hope he will enjoy good sport – though my small experience informs me that catching fish is not necessary for your true angler’s enjoyment.’
‘Oh, no! But to lose a fish is quite another matter!’
‘Certainly! One cannot wonder that it should cast even the most cheerful person into gloom, for it is always such an enormous one that escapes!’
‘I begin to think you are yourself an angler, ma’am: you are so exactly right!’
‘Indeed I am not! I was used to accompany my brothers sometimes, when I was a girl, but I very soon discovered that it was not at all the sport for me. When I caught nothing – which was in general the case – I found it a dead bore, and when a fish did get on my hook I was at a loss to know what to do with it, because I can’t bear handling fish! They wriggle so!’
They had reached the wicket-gate; he held it open for her, saying gravely: ‘They do, don’t they? So slimy, too! Almost as disagreeable as Miss Charlotte’s twitching horses!’
She stepped past him into the garden, but paused there, waiting for Charlotte and the Rector to join them. ‘Poor Charlotte! It was too bad of Mr Chartley to poke fun at her, for she has tried so hard to overcome her fear of horses, and is secretly much ashamed of it. Pray don’t laugh at her!’
‘You may be sure I shan’t. I should be far more likely to recommend her not to give the matter another thought. Now, why do you look surprised, ma’am?’
She coloured faintly. ‘Did I do so? Perhaps because it did surprise me a little to hear you say that – being yourself, so I’m told, such a notable horseman.’
He raised his brows. ‘But must I therefore despise those who don’t care for horses?’
‘No – but I have frequently observed that gentlemen who are addicted to sporting pursuits are prone to despise those whose interests are quite different.’ She added quickly: ‘It is very understandable, I daresay!’
‘I should rather call it intolerably conceited,’ he replied. He regarded her quizzically. ‘Furthermore, ma’am, I have a notion that it is you who despise those of us who are addicted to sport!’
‘That’s to say I’m intolerably conceited,’ she countered, smiling. ‘I am afraid I deserved it!’
They were interrupted by the Rector, who came up with Charlotte at that moment. He suggested that Sir Waldo should return to the house with them, but this was declined. Sir Waldo took his leave of the ladies, and went off with the Rector towards the stables.
Charlotte was plainly bursting to discuss the unexpected encounter, but Ancilla checked her, begging her to reserve her remarks until they should be out of earshot of her very penetrating voice. She was obedient, and listened docilely enough to a warning against any indiscreet utterance; but Ancilla knew her too well to place much reliance on her assurance that she would mind her tongue. As soon as she became excited, she would
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