Life at the Hummingbird Cottage

Jul. 14th, 2025 04:45 pm
osprey_archer: (nature)
[personal profile] osprey_archer
I just realized it’s been over a month since an update on life at the Hummingbird Cottage. This cannot stand! Surely you are all desperate to hear the latest news!

Still no hummingbird sightings, but there appears to be an entire flock of ducks resident on the pond, although they only come out en masse in moonlight so it’s hard to be sure how many there are. (Ghost ducks?)

The herbs are flourishing, especially the lemon balm which is the chief weed. I’ve been procrastinating on pulling it out, but at last it occurred to me that if I rip out the clump in the front garden, I could replace it with black-eyed susans (a favorite flower) and purple coneflowers (not a favorite, but they look well with black-eyed susans), which are both native wildflowers and also flourishing.

The intentional herbs are also doing well! I just found a recipe for herb scones which I’m looking forward to trying, since as soon as one has a flourishing herb garden one must begin scrambling for recipes that use herbs in order to keep the herbs in check. The chives are especially happy.

The cherry tomatoes in contrast are NOT happy. They both have a few little green tomatoes and look rather wilty, probably a combination of being planted late and not watered enough. Also one of them is beside a twining vine of some variety which began to engulf its tomato cage, so I moved the tomato cage over into the clump of vines which have since completely devoured it (really ought to get an arch or something, these vines are SO ready to go), which left the tomato plant free but also, possibly, a bit traumatized. And I expect the vine is sucking up more than its fair share of water and nutrients from the soil.

In non-garden news, I got a bike! It is a used Elektra Townie step-through bike, cream-colored with teal wheel rims and a capacious basket on the front which is just crying out for a baguette and a bouquet of wildflowers. I rode it to work for the first time today, coasting down the hill with the breeze in my face and a song in my heart… I will of course have to go back up the hill at the end of the day, but such is life.

To the house itself, I don’t think there have been any major alterations. The wicker cart I mentioned in my previous entry has been spray-painted white, and currently hosts two pothos plants (birthday presents!), although I intend to move them to higher ground so they can show off their trailing abilities. First I need to get a step stool, though, in order to water the pothos at its higher home.

Long term plans: a four-poster bed with soft white curtains. A built-in bookcase with a ladder in the living room. Presumably living room seating of some kind? (The living room is currently empty except for (1) a cat tree, (2) the wicker cart with the pothos, and (3) a box spring which came at a discount with the guest room twin mattress, which is for one of my friends, who needs to come retrieve it.) I feel the rest of the living room will fall into place once I get the bookcase sorted.

Readercon 2025

Jul. 14th, 2025 11:00 am
oracne: turtle (Default)
[personal profile] oracne
I’ll be at Readercon 34 this weekend after spending most of the last couple of weeks doing massive re-reads.

If you’ll be there, please feel free to stop and say hello! My schedule is below.

The Works of P. Djèlí­ Clark
Salon I/J Friday, July 18, 2025, 1:00 PM EDT
Andrea Hairston [moderator]; Leon Perniciaro; Rob Cameron; Tom Doyle; Victoria Janssen
Our Guest of Honor P. Djèlí Clark rounded out his first decade as a published author with a Nebula and a Locus for his fantasy police procedural novel, The Master of Djinn, and both those awards plus a British Fantasy Award for his monster-hunting novella Ring Shout. His short story “How to Raise a Kraken in Your Bathtub” is short-listed for the Hugo this year. As a History professor at University of Connecticut, he investigates the pathways leading from West African storyteller/poets (griots, a.k.a. djèlí) to the American abolitionist movement. Help us celebrate the works of our honored guest!

The Purposes of Memorable Insults in Sci-Fi and Fantasy
Salon I/J Friday, July 18, 2025, 5:00 PM EDT
Storm Humbert [moderator]; Anne E.G. Nydam; Charles Allison; Ellen Kushner; Victoria Janssen
Some of the most quotable lines in science fiction and fantasy are zingers. Wit can do a lot to build a character, a world, and a universe, and has the ability to either support or undermine reader expectations. This panel aims to explore and elaborate on the use of wit—and especially takedowns—in literature, exposing how a verbal jab can serve as more than just a punchline.

Moving from Traditional Publishing to Self-Publishing
Salon G/H Friday, July 18, 2025, 7:00 PM EDT
Victoria Janssen [moderator]; Cecilia Tan; Jedediah Berry; Sarah Smith; Steven Popkes
It’s becoming increasingly common to hear of authors whose self-published work was so successful that they were picked up by a traditional publisher. But what of the authors who have gone the other way, by turning their backs on traditional publishing and going into self-publishing? Panelists will survey the varying reasons for making this transition, how authors have navigated it, and what this might say about the state of publishing overall.

Kaffeeklatsch: Victoria Janssen
Suite 830 Friday, July 18, 2025, 8:00 PM EDT

The Works of Cecilia Tan
Salon I/J Saturday, July 19, 2025, 12:00 PM EDT
Victoria Janssen [moderator]; Charlie Jane Anders; Laura Antoniou; Cecilia Tan (i)
Our Guest of Honor, Cecilia Tan, has a publication history that spans Asimov’s, Absolute Magnitude, Ms. Magazine, Penthouse, and Best American Erotica, among others. Writer and editor of science fiction and fantasy, especially as they intersect with erotica and romance, she is also the founder of Circlet Press, an independent publisher that specializes in speculative erotica. Her own writing earned a Lifetime Achievement for Erotica in 2014 from Romantic Times magazine. She also contributes to America’s other pastime, baseball, in her role as Publications Director for the Society for American Baseball Research (SABR). Come hear our panel discuss Cecilia’s many talents and accomplishments.

Un-Kafkaesque Bureaucracies
Salon I/J Saturday, July 19, 2025, 7:00 PM EDT
Victoria Janssen [moderator]; Alexander Jablokov; J.M. Sidorova; Laurence Raphael Brothers; Steven Popkes
In fiction, bureaucracies are generally depicted as evil in its most banal form, yet many of the actual bureaucracies that shape our lives exist to protect us from corporate greed. How can—and should—we tell other stories about bureaucrats and bureaucracies, particularly as the U.S. stands on the precipice of disastrous deregulation? And might fantasies of bureaucracy (such Addison’s The Goblin Emperor and Goddard’s The Hands of the Emperor) be the next cozy subgenre?

The Endless Appetite for Fanfiction
Create / Collaborate Saturday, July 19, 2025, 8:00 PM EDT
Kate Nepveu [moderator]; Claire Houck/Nina Waters; Laura Antoniou; Victoria Janssen
In an article of the same name (https://www.fansplaining.com/articles/endless-appetite-fanfiction), Elizabeth Minkel discussed how “2024 was the year [fanfic] truly broke containment—everyone seemed to want a piece of the fanfiction pie, leaving fic authors themselves besieged on all sides.” Attempts to steal and monetize fanfic proliferated, as did reviews treating living authors as distant and unreachable. What do these trends say about larger changes in attitudes toward stories and creators? How can fans of all kinds nurture supportive connections to authors?

get down, get down

Jul. 12th, 2025 09:52 pm
musesfool: iconic supergirl (up up and away)
[personal profile] musesfool
As I may have mentioned, Baby Miss L loves potatoes, so when I saw a t-shirt on Etsy that said, "Potatoes gonna potate!" around a picture of a potato, I thought, I have to get it for her! Unfortunately, it was only available in neon green, which I did not like the look of. Luckily, many other vendors were also selling t-shirts with pictures of friendly potatoes on them, so I got her this one that says, "Tater tot!"

This morning, I received a series of glamour shots and a video of Baby Miss L thoroughly excited about wearing the t-shirt. It was so great!

I also learned that The Muppets covering Jungle Boogie is one of her current favorite videos. AMAZING!

On all counts, her vibes are immaculate.

Tomorrow, I'm going to a birthday bbq at my brother's, and I'm bringing her the Batman and Robin t-shirts, plus some toddler books about Batman and the Justice League. Hopefully she enjoys them almost as much! (I also recently sent her a Captain America t-shirt, which I believe she wore for the 4th, and I also got pics of her in the Superman dress, with her arms up like she was flying. 😍😍😍)

In other news, I found this review of the new Superman movie really moving. Will I venture out to a theater to see it? Probably not, but I will be very excited to watch it when it makes its way onto HBO in a few months.

*

(no subject)

Jul. 12th, 2025 11:29 am
skygiants: the aunts from Pushing Daisies reading and sipping wine on a couch (wine and books)
[personal profile] skygiants
lest you think that having returned The Pushcart War to its rightful owner I went away with my bookshelves lighter! I did NOT, as she pushed 84, Charing Cross Road into my hands at the airport as I was leaving again with strict instructions to read it ASAP.

This is another one that's been on my list for years -- specifically, since I read Between Silk and Cyanide, as cryptography wunderkind Leo Marks chronicling the desperate heroism and impossible failures of the SOE is of course the son of the owner of Marks & Co., the bookstore featuring in 84, Charing Cross Road, because the whole of England contains approximately fifteen people tops.

84, Charing Cross Road collects the correspondence between jobbing writer Helene Hanff -- who started ordering various idiosyncratic books at Marks & Co. in 1949 -- and the various bookstore employees, primarily but not exclusively chief buyer Frank Doel. Not only does Hanff has strong and funny opinions about the books she wants to read and the editions she's being sent, she also spends much of the late forties and early fifties expressing her appreciation by sending parcels of rationed items to the store employees. A friendship develops, and the store employees enthusiastically invite Hanff to visit them in England, but there always seems to be something that comes up to prevent it. Hanff gets and loses jobs, and some of the staff move on. Rationing ends, and Hanff doesn't send so many parcels, but keeps buying books. Twenty years go by like this.

Since 84, Charing Cross Road was a bestseller in 1970 and subsequently multiply adapted to stage and screen, and Between Silk and Cyanide did not receive publication permission until 1998, I think most people familiar with these two books have read them in the reverse order that I did. I think it did make sort of a difference to feel the shadow of Between Silk and Cyanide hanging over this charming correspondence -- not for the worse, as an experience, just certain elements emphasized. Something about the strength and fragility of a letter or a telegram as a thread to connect people, and how much of a story it does and doesn't tell.

As a sidenote, in looking up specific publication dates I have also learned by way of Wikipedia that there is apparently a Chinese romcom about two people who both independently read 84, Charing Cross Road, decide that the book has ruined their lives for reasons that are obscure to me in the Wikipedia summary, write angry letters to the address 84 Charing Cross Road, and then get matchmade by the man who lives there now. Extremely funny and I kind of do want to watch it.

Connexions (27)

Jul. 12th, 2025 10:06 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan
Other hands that might undertake these burdens

Clorinda looked up from the letter she was perusing as Sandy entered the parlour. La, my dear, you are a late riser the morn – or, indeed, might I suppose you did not sleep at home last night? She picked up the little bell upon the breakfast table to ring for fresh coffee.

Sandy scowled at her as he went sit in the chair opposite and helped himself to a muffin.

I will not attempt, she said, to engage you in conversation until you have been fortified.

He scowled but said nothing.

Shortly afterwards came Hector with coffee and hotter muffins as well as a platter of bacon and grilled kidneys.

Clorinda continued to read her correspondence – oh, fie, here are the orphanage ladies go be troublesome yet again, I must go call on Lady Jane betimes so that we may devize some plan to rout 'em – sure I have no engagements this very afternoon –

Most unwonted! Sandy remarked, as he poured himself a third cup of coffee.

– though I go dine at the Wallaces this e’en, to bid farewell to dear Polly Fendersham and Mr Enderby. But my dear, are you now restored to waking consciousness once more, had a thought while reading a letter from Barbara Collins –

They are all well, I hope?

O, entirely, business flourishes, &C, though she misses young Una. But thinking of how well they are doing out of horseflesh over there, wondered if that young groom that fell foul of Blatchett had any notion to seeking his fortune in the colonies?

Sand raised his eyebrows and took a drink of coffee. 'Tis indeed a thought, he agreed. For quite apart from our concerns over Lady Isabella, I have come to consider that Blatchett may come to wonder what else young Oxton might have seen – even he might find a guilty conscience preying upon him from time to time – and take further measures.

La, Mr MacDonald, did you ever essay the Gothic mode? But that is a point well taken.

Let us not dilly-dally, then: I must to the godless institution this morn, but may take myself into Berkshire and Offerton’s stables to sound Oxton out later. 'Tis no great journey.

Clorinda nodded. 'Tis the wisest course. And you may mention that there is a philanthropic scheme for aiding such deserving young persons to emigrate

There is? – Clorinda smiled – Ah.

So that was one piece of good work dispatched, or at least, well in hand, so early in the day, very gratifying!

But she must look into the matter of the orphanage – alas, dear Dumpling Dora Pockinford had been sadly distracted of late – even had the Honble Simon pulled round from those shocking ways of which the Pockinfords did not speak but of which Clorinda had heard from Josh, that had prevented the boy from laying violent hands upon himself, it must fret a mother that he was now going so distant, and doubtless she imagined all sorts of perils. 'Twixt that, and first Aggie and now Thea showing religious leanings that were anathema to Lord Pockinford’s Evangelicalism, that family was not at its most harmonious. And her deputy, her daughter-in-law Lady Demington, only very lately returned from recovering her heath in Harrogate.

'Twas no wonder matters were somewhat awry!

So Clorinda gathered up the necessary papers – the Matron at least was a good businesslike woman! – and had the horses put to the carriage to take her to that quiet and unfashionable but perfectly respectable neighbourhood where Lady Jane had her apartments, adjacent to those of Amelia Addington. Looking out of the carriage window, Clorinda saw signs that these streets were coming up, 'twas no wonder, were convenient for a deal of matters.

Nick Jupp handed her down, and said he would take the carriage round to the King’s Head and tend to the cattle there –

And I hope you will tend to yourself and take a mug of ale or so!

She was rather surprized, on entering Lady Jane’s sanctum, to find the place in a considerable bustle of company – there was Janey Merrett, and Amelia, and, why, Viola Mulcaster – 'twas quite the family gathering –

But also, over at the pianoforte, that Lady Jane was finding her fingers rather too stiff to play herself these days, but that Janey came to play to her quite frequent, Zipsie Rondegate and Thea Saxorby.

Lady Bexbury! cried Lady Jane, beginning to rise, as Clorinda besought her not to do so. I have a rare treat brought to me the day. Lady Rondegate has been rehearsing Lady Theodora in dear Grace’s settings of Sappho’s lyrics – lately turned 'em up among some papers sent from Nitherholme – Miss McKeown had copies –

But how charming! said Clorinda, taking a chair. One must suppose that dear Viola must have had somewhat to do with this – showed very well in her, when one recalled her own disastrous history with those songs, as a very young woman just out in Society.

Zipsie waxed very effusive about the songs, to Lady Jane’s perceptible gratification. O, she said, I must have been in some concern that they would be considered sadly old-fashioned – not to mention the work of an amateur hand

Not in the least, declared Zipsie, showed 'em to Uncle Casimir and he wondered was there any other compositions of hers surviving.

That was praise indeed!

So after some preliminary exercizes, Zipsie and Thea commenced upon the recital.

O, though Clorinda, that one might prevail upon Thea to perform at one’s drawing-room meetings, if not at a soirée. Such a voice. Not, perchance, these songs – mayhap somewhat unsuited to the taste of the present day? – one supposed Thea was ignorant of the life of the poet –

Tears were running down Lady Jane’s face, a most unwonted event.

Amelia Addington was an actress, and capable of keeping in character whatever disasters were going forward on stage or in the wings or even was there a riot in the audience – yet to Clorinda’s eye of old acquaintance, there seemed an air of – of distress?

The song became silent.

O my dears, said Lady Jane, blowing her nose, you have given me a great gift. I never thought to hear those songs again, and you performed them exquisitely.

Clorinda stood up and said, did not wish to be uncivil, but saw that they were about to engage in deep musical converse, and collected that she needed to talk to Miss Addington about a drawing-room meeting, might they step aside for that?

She drew Amelia out into the corridor, where the actress sank her head onto Clorinda’s shoulder and burst into tears.

Dearest Amelia, she said as she put an arm about her, you should not think that she loved who His Grace always refers to as that jealous Billston hag more than you – she remembers, doubtless, happy times of youth but that is very much about those years –

O, sobbed Amelia, it is not that. It is that I think of how ephemeral my own art is. I strut and fret an hour upon the stage –

Things were very bad was she quoting the Scottish play! Clorinda made certain gestures learnt in her youth backstage.

– and 'tis gone. Mayhap a critic will remark upon me in a newspaper, that will then wrap fish.

And you have taught a deal of generations of other actors. I daresay in Sydney there is Orlando Richardson saying, Addington did thus and so – I remember how Addington directed this scene – you will never come up to Addington in that role –

She gave a weak giggle.

– in New York I daresay Charlie Darcy reminisces, though careful to add that of course, his wife is in a very different style – would that one might see the pair of you together on stage –

Amelia mopped her eyes and blew her nose. 

– And one dares imagine that in heaven the great dramatists gather round and debate the rival virtues of your performance and that of Mrs Siddons in their great roles.

You flattering weasel! she exclaimed.

Is it not a vocation to bring those works to life?

The two women embraced and Amelia said sure she was being very foolish. And mayhap the late Miss Billston had had a pretty talent but she had led poor Lady Jane a sad dance – jealous scenes, and then getting up flirtations herself when they went into Society – and making a deal of her poor health –

Clorinda stroked her hair and said that Lady Jane had been young – only just coming into the understanding of her nature – in maturer years she had made a wiser choice –

She will even say as much, Amelia admitted. Let us go in, and make sober compliments to the performers.

They discovered Lady Jane quite exhorting Lady Theodora to consider upon the Parable of the Talents – and what is that fine passage from the Bard that you are wont to quote, Lady Bexbury, about not concealing our virtues but letting them shine forth?

Thea was blushing, and murmuring that mayhap she should think upon that.

So Clorinda went away, having agreed upon a further rencontre to talk orphanage, feeling that that had been an agreeable occasion and that mayhap Thea would come about to let her virtues go forth of her.

And now there was going to dine with the Wallaces, that had been wont to be an entire pleasure but had been constrained for many months by the louring presence of Lord Fendersham.

However, on her arrival she was greeted with positively giddy glee by Sir Barton and Susannah Wallace, as well as Bobbie and Scilla, conveying the very happy news that Fendersham was finally ceasing to be the prodigal father and returning home to take up his responsibilities.

Has been all day about settling various of his affairs – his valet about packing – takes a morning train –

So even though we are saddened to have dear Lady Fendersham going away for who knows how long, said Susannah, flourishing her lorgnette, we cannot be other than merry at this prospect.

Well indeed, thought Clorinda, wondering how it had come about. Had been quite unable to fathom how she herself might contrive such an end!

Later that night, darling Leda giggled and said, la, did Clorinda take a pet that some other hand had wrought this?

At which she laughed herself and said, was heartily glad that there were other hands that might undertake these burdens.


the read on the speed-meter says

Jul. 11th, 2025 03:20 pm
musesfool: (easy like sunday morning)
[personal profile] musesfool
Two guys came and measured the space for my new dishwasher and it will apparently fit, but there are as always several - okay, 2 - unexpected wrinkles: 1. the current machine is hardwired into the electric, but the new dishwasher needs a plug, so the installers are going to have to build an outlet? These 2 guys didn't seem to think it was a big deal but it is another $75, which at this point is whatever, fine. Secondly, they were concerned that the installation might damage the drain pipe under my sink, and I was like, can we wrap it in something to protect it from being dinged? and they were like, "Eh, maybe, but if it breaks you're responsible for fixing it." Which, thanks. I suppose I can get under there and wrap a towel around it if necessary.

So we'll see how this goes on Tuesday. Keep your fingers crossed that it doesn't completely wreck my kitchen!

Speaking of wrecking my kitchen, my current HGTV viewing is "Help! I wrecked my house!" which I'm enjoying, but oh my god, the sheer hubris of some of these mediocre white men, who think they can demo a kitchen or a bathroom down to the studs and then figure out how to put in a new one, and then have to call Jasmine because of course they can't. I don't understand these people, tbh. There is nothing wrong with asking a trained professional to come in and do that kind of work, especially if you're not particularly handy. (And even you are handy in the "can change a washer in the faucet" variety, what makes you think you can install a shower from the ground up??? WTF?) On the other hand, I am really sympathetic to the folks who did hire a contractor who turned out to be shady and didn't do the work properly and stiffed them of their money to boot!

In other news, I am now on vacation and very excited about it! Except shit, I forgot to set up my out of office message. I will have to log back in and do that.

*

Connexions (26)

Jul. 11th, 2025 07:41 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan
Had two missions to undertake

Polly, Dowager Lady Fendersham, could scarcely believe it. It was only days now before she would embark, along with that excellent fellow Cyrus Enderby and that still rather annoying young man the Honble Simon Saxorby, bound for Peru. And after so many years would see dear Christie, that had been doing well in the Consular Service at Lima, and the wife he had lately wedded. It was quite extraordinary.

But before she left, she had two missions to undertake.

She was staying with the Wallaces, the dear hospitable creatures, and most fortunate, Bobbie and Scilla had just lately returned from visiting Firlbrough to sound out the feeling there in advance of the anticipated General Election.

Also staying with the Wallaces, a much unwanted guest, was her stepson, Lord Fendersham, that continued to linger in Town even though Lady Wauderkell had gone on a retreat in a convent.

Polly had almost immediate upon her arrival in Town gone seek out Lady Bexbury, that she fancied would have the most useful intelligence upon this matter, and she was not in the least deluded.

Why, said Lady Bexbury, pouring tea, and drawing Polly’s attention to the cake-stand, I confide she continues to reside there because Lord Fendersham is unlike to venture within a league of a nunnery. And while I daresay the accommodation may be a little austere, and the food somewhat plain, 'twill all be a great improvement over Newgate. Furthermore, I apprehend from my friend that is a sister in the convent that she takes up her pen once more –

Polly groaned.

– takes up her pen to write improving tales for young people of the childhood of various saints, that will be published and sold for the benefit of the convent. So she is not idle – attends the various offices during the day – has had several visits from her cousin from Cork with a view to settling their legal difficulties – passing the time really quite agreeably until the evidence comes from Chicago confirming O’Neill’s previous marriage so the case can go to court.

One hears, she added, that there is an antient suitor in Cork that is now a widower still yearns

Polly snorted. One might suppose she had had quite enough of marriage.

Lady Bexbury raised her eyebrows and remarked that one must only suppose that with some, 'twas like unto a laudanum habit, a craving that they could not resist.

So she was able to go to Andrew, armed with this intelligence, although she intended to present him first with an appeal to duty. For had been approached by various neighbours and local dignitaries discreetly asking when Lord Fendersham was going to return and put matters in order, and with an election forthcoming, surely 'twas prudent that he should be at home.

For indeed, at present Fendersham Hall was a scene of riotous living by Drew Fendersham and his cronies. There was not a great deal of harm in Drew himself, but Polly did not feel so sure about some of the set that gathered about him. There was a deal of drinking, and while at first they had been engaged in the usual country pleasures, as far as the season permitted, latterly there had been a resort to cards as well as billiards, and, she feared, high play.

There her stepson was, sitting reading the Times with an expression of great disapproval, though indeed that was his normal expression. As he grew older he came to look a deal more like her late husband, but he had never had such sour looks. Oh, he had taken pets when he thought some fellow or other was showing Polly undue attention, and in his later years when he became invalid was wont to be fussy and demanding. But he had taken pleasure in life, simple though his pleasures were – give us a jolly tune, Poll! – and while he had not had particularly sensitive feelings, had been within his limits, kind.

Her stepson had been conscientious, and ever done the proper things, before this recent upheaval, but she had never felt that there was kindness.

She sat down opposite him and decided to go straight at the point. Everybody has been asking when you intend to return to Fendersham Hall and take matters in hand, she said. Your presence is considerably missed in local affairs as well as about the business of the estate. Drew is entirely irresponsible and treats the house as an inn, inviting who knows what chance-met boon companions under your roof.

He looked up from the newspaper and blinked at her.

I have been doing what I can, but I am going to Peru to visit Christie, that I have not seen these many years. And there is a deal that only you can attend to. Your father, she added, may have been given to self-indulgence – had not the present Lord Fendersham expatiated upon this theme to his father’s very face? – but did not neglect the duties of his position, even did he undertake 'em with a deal of sighing and groaning.

Fendersham emitted a sound somewhere 'twixt a moan and a whine. Then said that felt obliged to remain in Town lest Lady Wauderkell should need him –

Lady Wauderkell, said Polly, managing not to snap out the words, is very comfortable in the convent – you must not at all imagine a grim cell – bread and water – kneeling on hard stone. I have been assured that the guest quarters are entire what one would desire. She was not conveyed there by sinister monks directed by a conniving Jesuit priest, and is under no kind of duress. She has chosen to stay there now that she, as one understands, returns to the faith that she was brought up in.

Profound groan from her stepson.

Furthermore, there is a cousin from Cork comes to Town, about some matter to do with their business there, and is entire willing and competent to look after her interests – prepares to come to a compromise in the lawsuit &C – offers that is there aught he may do to assist her suit in this case of bigamy he is entire at her disposal –

Further groans.

Really, Andrew, I am astonished the Wallaces have not dosed your tea with laudanum and bundled you on to the next train going north, under care in the guard’s van! 'Tis a shocking abuse of hospitality the way you linger here.

He flushed. Really, he did not look at all healthy. Town life did not suit him. And was he literally pouting?

She left him to seethe and brood.

Her other mission was a good deal more agreeable! And it was a very agreeable jaunt out there in the carriage that the Wallaces had insisted that she took. She had no particular qualms about how Una Wallace did in the Ferraby household – would doubtless have heard was there any matter of illness – but still, she would like to be assured that the girl was doing well, for it must be a considerable change for her.

Indeed, Blackheath, though fine and green and leafy, and sure far more healthful than Town, was very different from a farm in Nova Scotia! And one must wonder how Una, that had been brought up among older people, got on now she was with the boisterous Ferraby girls and going to school.

Here they were, at this very fine house in excellent grounds that the Sir Harry Ferrabys occupied. And quite running out to greet her Lady Louisa, in very merry mood.

O, Lady Fendersham – oh, Polly – such a pleasure to see you! The girls are in the garden, a-romping with the little boys, so very pretty, come see.

So Polly stepped down from the carriage, and Lady Louisa instructed the coachman where to go, and then to go to the kitchen for refreshment.

Peru! she cried. So venturesome of you – Josh has been in some envy of the excursion –

Fie, said Polly, one apprehends that Lima is a fine modern city, I have no intention of making expeditions into forests and jungles, will leave that to Mr Enderby and his young apprentice.

Are there not, murmured Lady Louisa, enormous snakes in those parts that are said to swallow animals whole? and might one ingest Simon Saxorby? A very annoying young man.

O, he is somewhat improved though now will bore one quite like unto Mr Nixon about Peru and its history and its fauna &C.

Lou giggled.

They came out into the garden, where Hester and Maria Ferraby along with Una were playing at catch with their little brothers Hal, that was already breeched, and Gervase, that was still in dresses, though looking at him, Lou sighed that 'twas nigh time to cut those curls and put him into breeches.

Polly sighed too, thinking of the day when she had performed the like for Christie.

Quite letting fall the ball in her to come running up and embrace Polly, Una Wallace. Most delightful! For Una had been wont to be a little reserved and shy, one dared say that being among the Ferrabys had perchance given her easier manners than those she had learnt from Barbara Collins, that, though a very fine woman, had learnt hers in an earlier day, so that they showed somewhat of a stiffness in a child of Una’s years?

Oh, Auntie Polly, how exceeding! Do you come a long visit?

Polly looked down into the dark eyes, noting the healthy rose that had come to her cheeks – the gloss of the dark hair – one need be in no concern at all about the sanitive benefits of her present residence.

Alas, said Polly, stooping to kiss her, I only came for this very afternoon – am about to depart for Peru to visit my son, and his wife, that I have never yet met –

Una’s mouth drooped a little, before she straightened her shoulders and said, they would go look that up in the big atlas – study upon it mayhap –

The Ferraby sister came up to shake hands and make their curtseys and demonstrate that they were not, as their mother sighed, quite wild savages. Hal essayed a bow.

Came out of his workshop Sir Harry, and Una turned to him with a smile, that was warmly returned.

Here, said Sir Harry, is Miss Wallace shows a deal of interest in engineering.

Well! No, one could not have the least worry about Una, in this place. Little Gervase, clutching her hand – It was well.

(no subject)

Jul. 10th, 2025 11:33 pm
skygiants: the aunts from Pushing Daisies reading and sipping wine on a couch (wine and books)
[personal profile] skygiants
I mentioned that I did in fact read a couple of good books in my late-June travels to counterbalance the bad ones. One of them was The Pushcart War, which I conveniently discovered in my backpack right as I was heading out to stay with the friend who'd loaned it to me a year ago.

I somehow have spent most of my life under the impression that I had already read The Pushcart War, until the plot was actually described to me, at which point it became clear that I'd either read some other Pushcart or some other War but these actual valiant war heroes were actually brand new to me.

The book is science fiction, of a sort, originally published in 1964 and set in 1976 -- Wikipedia tells me that every reprint has moved the date forward to make sure it stays in the future, which I think is very charming -- and purporting to be a work of history for young readers explaining the conflict between Large Truck Corporations and Pugnacious Pushcart Peddlers over the course of one New York City summer. It's a punchy, defiant little book about corporate interest, collective action, and civil disobedience; there's one chapter in particular in which the leaders of the truck companies meet to discuss their master plan of getting everything but trucks off the streets of New York entirely where the metaphor is Quite Dark and Usefully Unsubtle. Also contains charming illustrations! A good read at any time and I'm glad to have finally experienced it.

Connexions (25)

Jul. 10th, 2025 08:37 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan
Brought up in Town Society from their earliest years

O, Verena – Verena, Countess of Imbremere, wife of Augustus, Earl of Imbremere that was the heir to the Marquess of Offgrange – had loved the Ukraine and the wide estates of her real father Count Rozovsky. She had not even minded the long winter and the deep snows &C, had quite relished 'em! Sleighrides through the forests &C –

And had not been idle, for while dear Gussie had been following in his father’s footsteps by studying upon the botany of those parts, she had begun learning the local tongue, and talking to the maidservants &C. While doing this, had come across the folktales of those parts, that she put herself to gathering, and also some of the songs. Finding her doing this, her father had sent for ancients from the villages thereabouts, and now she fancied she had quite enough to put together in a pretty volume when they returned to Town.

But much as they had enjoyed their time there and the more than generous hospitality, as it came towards spring, Rozovsky had groaned and declared that he supposed he should be making his way to St Petersburg – where one of his sons was in the Imperial Page Corps –

Gussie had sighed and said, had been thinking himself that they should be on their return to England. Sure his father was by no means old and in the halest of health, but news took a deal of a while to reach 'em where they were.

So they had all come to an entirely amicable agreement that the party should break up, and that Gussie and Verena were ever welcome, and Gussie extended a mutual invitation to come visit Dambert Chase was Rosovsky ever in England.

They decided to travel back southwards, by way of the Mediterranean – let us, Gussie remarked, make this a really extensive honeymoon voyage – have we not been quite exhorted to call at Lady Bexbury’s villa at Naples? – that indeed seemed a very pleasing prospect.

And here they were, so much sunlight, thought Verena, as she sat upon the terrace of the Villa Bexburi, looking over its magnificent vista of the Bay of Naples.

Had not quite anticipated to encounter the company they found there: here was Emma Reveley, that was, had married that most romantic figure, Bernardo di Serrante, half of antient Neapolitan aristocracy and half of Boston Quaker breeding, that one had heard had fought with Garibaldi in ’48, but now turned to the arts of peace and studied with the agrarian reformer, Marcello Traversini. Nardo was, she supposed, some connexion of her own? for was the son of Reynaldo di Serrante that was her elder sister Cara's father. 

La, Signore Traversini was not the vision one conjured up when thinking agrarian reformer! Not in the least like pudgy little Artie Demington, more like unto some classical figure in the paintings one saw when one went call on various local inhabitants to whom one had introductions! A demigod of grapes and olives one might fancy as he walked among his vines and groves.

Along with Nardo, that was very fine-looking himself! Not that she inclined to any fellow but darling Gussie, but one must admit that the men hereabout were very pleasing to the eyes. Even Mr White, that ran the printing-press that produced a journal and pamphlets on agrarian matters, and was English – one might even detect a slight Cockney note in his speech – was quite a handsome chap for his years.

Sure did she dabble in watercolours like Emmy she would find that a great inspiration to her brush! but there was Mrs di Serrante, conscientiously painting away at depictions of scenery, and ruins, and mayhap a quaint olive-tree or so. Well, mayhap in private she prevailed upon her husband to present as a sleeping satyr or such….

Verena, that was lying in a long chair on the terrace, a novel drooping from her hand, looked over to where Emmy di Serrante was leaning upon the wall with her sketchbook and colour-box, intent upon a seascape.

It was really somewhat vexing! Verena had been wont to consider the Reveley sisters as a pair of dowdy provincials that had been quite thrust into Town Society upon the death of the late Lord Raxdell – Verena, like possibly every other young woman in her set, had passed through a girlish passion for that dashing Viscount, so handsome, such a prime sportsman, a most noted whip, and while she had recovered, still felt a pang at his untimely demise. Their mother had been no use at all to 'em –

So unlike dear Mama! Mama that knew not merely all about dress and how to be in the crack o’style, but all the little tricks of manner that gave one a deal of assurance when going into Society. And indeed, my darlings, you will need that, alas, I fear.

(Because of the whispers that Cara – Adeline – Verena Zellen is not Sir Hartley’s daughter. Even if, in all matters of affection, they were.)

So darling Mama had conveyed 'em knowledge of Society and its conventions that had served 'em all well, and Cara and Adeline had married well, and Verena herself had made this quite spectacular and enviable match, to Gussie, that she had liked since childhood and come to love.

But the Reveley girls – so awkward – but then they were took up by Lady Bexbury, one supposed as it were as a bequest from Lord Raxdell – had long been give out that there were feelings 'twixt 'em of great affection – and had he not left her the famed pink diamonds? – though there had also been vulgar speculations concerning his feelings for Lady Ferraby –

That had conveyed 'em somewhat more of polish – and the elder of the two, Miss Harriet, received a most eligible offer from the Honble Brumpage Parry-Lloyd, heir to Lord Abertyldd, not perhaps the most thrilling of suitors but an excellent match.

Still, they might have improved considerable, but Verena had still been wont to consider 'em unsophisticated creatures compared to the Zellen sisters that had been brought up in Town Society from their earliest years. One was kind, of course, there was no need to be spiteful and cattish like that set that used to gather round Lady Trembourne before her disgrace, but in the way one was to visiting relatives or neighbours from Cornwall.

Yet, here was Emmy not in the least awkward – fluent in Italian, including the particular tongue of this region – on the easiest of terms with Signor Traversini and Mr White – and widely received in the very various social circles hereabouts.

Had, Verena discovered, the entrée to the local nobility by way of her husband – and also to the Americans that came here for assorted reasons – of course to English Society – also, one discovered, to a deal of savants through introductions from Signora Umberti, whose late husband had been an esteemed professor before fleeing into exile, and had been by way of a governess to the Reveley sisters.

And took this all with entire easiness and one could only say, aplomb.

Was, it appeared, in quite a constant whirl of routs, balls, excursions to sites of interest, invitations to come view this or that one’s villa or gardens, &C&C. One supposed she had to find some diversion while her husband went about with Signor Traversini or others learning about grapes and making wine with the intention of in due course setting up to do the like on American shores. Or going to meetings of agrarian reform societies.

Both couples were attending this ridotto at some palazzo: indeed, very fine, but such a mob of company, thought Verena, that found her head aching a little at the noise. Feeling a little chagrin at observing Emmy di Serrante quite the sparkling butterfly, flitting from group to group, demonstrating a little discreet flattering flirtatiousness to this or that older fellow. Nardo, Verena observed, was smoking on a terrace with a group of younger chaps – perchance former comrades?

Gussie took her hand and said, had a notion that there was dancing a little further on, and they were about to go there, for they danced together exceedingly well and it was quite of  their greatest pleasures, when came bustling up to 'em some lady she had met in the English set with Emmy – fancied her husband was here for his health? – begging to make known to Lord and Lady Imbremere her American friends.

This was undoubtedly what Mama would consider encroaching presumption, but one could hardly go so far as to deliver a cut, so they conceded to have the Rutledges, from Virginia, introduced to 'em, that made exceeding effusive –

Had not Emmy said somewhat about 'em, and that for citizens of a democratic nation they were greatly dazzled by tinsel show?

One gleaned that impression!

Upon finding that Gussie was an earl and a botanist, Mr Rutledge launched into the tale of his father’s friend, that had also been a botanist, and had gone plant-hunting in the Virginia forests with an English earl some considerable while ago. And alas, the fellow was attacked and killed by a bear, did not know the ways of things with the wild animals in those parts –

Gussie said drily that that must have been his grandfather – his mother’s father – that died before he was born.

This put a considerable chill on the conversation.

The following morning Verena found herself feeling considerable qualmish – somewhat she had consumed perchance – and said she would lie in a little when Gussie rose. A little later, feeling no better, she got up to seek her smelling-salts. Her maid had not seen them, very tiresome.

She would go ask Emmy did she have such thing as a smelling-bottle about her.

There was Emmy, sitting out on the terrace, carefully shaded from the sun, writing at a lap-desk. Shielding her own eyes from the glare of light, Verena went over to make her request.

Why, certainly, cried Emmy, I will go fetch it immediate, as she closed the lid of the lap-desk, not before Verena had observed that she had been writing in what looked like cypher – had come across Gillie Beaufoyle about the like. Gillie, challenged about this, had shrugged and revealed that he had been desired to make use of his sojourn in the Ukraine by his superiors –

But Emmy, about secret communications?

musesfool: Olivia Dunham, PI (there are blondes and blondes)
[personal profile] musesfool
It's no meeting week at work, which is the best week! And then I'm on PTO next week. I carefully portioned out my to-do list so that I have one main thing to do every day (on top of whatever comes up each day) and it's so satisfying to mostly just cross things off it and not have to go to any meetings (which always add things to my list).

Yesterday, it was so quiet that I was able to read a whole book! Just sitting at my desk and answering email occasionally! So, Wednesday reading!

What I've just finished
Stone and Sky by Ben Aaronovitch, the very latest Rivers of London book. And when I say, "very latest" I mean it was released yesterday. I enjoyed it! spoilers )

What I'm reading next
Idk, I'll keep opening books in my library until I find one that holds my interest, I guess.

*

(no subject)

Jul. 9th, 2025 07:20 pm
skygiants: Enjolras from Les Mis shouting revolution-tastically (la resistance lives on)
[personal profile] skygiants
When [personal profile] kate_nepveu started doing a real-time readalong for Steven Brust & Emma Bull's epistolary novel Freedom and Necessity in 2023, I read just enough of Kate's posts to realize that this was a book that I probably wanted to read for myself and then stopped clicking on the cut-text links. Now, several years later, I have finally done so!

Freedom and Necessity kicks off in 1849, with British gentleman James Cobham politely writing to his favorite cousin Richard to explain he has just learned that everybody thinks he is dead, he does not remember the last two months or indeed anything since the last party the two of them attended together, he is pretending to be a groom at the stables that found him, and would Richard mind telling him whether he thinks he ought to go on pretending to be dead and doing a little light investigation on his behalf into wtf is going on?

We soon learn that a.) James has been involved in something mysterious and political; b.) Richard thinks that James ought to be more worried about something differently mysterious and supernatural; c.) both Richard and James have a lot of extremely verbose opinions about the exciting new topic of Hegelian logic; and d.) James and Richard are both in respective Its Complicateds with two more cousins, Susan and Kitty, and at this point Susan and Kitty kick in with a correspondence of their own as Susan decides to exorcise her grief about the [fake] death of the cousin she Definitely Was Not In Love With by investigating why James kept disappearing for months at a time before he died.

By a few chapters in, I was describing it to [personal profile] genarti as 'Sorcery and Cecelia if you really muscled it up with nineteenth century radical philosophy' and having a wonderful time.

Then I got a few more chapters in and learned more about WTF indeed was up with James and texted Kate like 'WAIT IS THIS A LYMONDALIKE?' to which she responded 'I thought it was obvious!' And I was still having a wonderful time, and continued doing so all through, but could not stop myself from bursting into laughter every time the narrative lovingly described James' pale and delicate-looking yet surprisingly athletic figure or his venomous light voice etc. etc. mid-book spoilers )

Anyway, if you've read a Lymond, you know that there's often One Worthy Man in a Lymond book who is genuinely wise and can penetrate Lymond's self-loathing to gently explain to him that he should use his many poisoned gifts for the better. Freedom and Necessity dares to ask the question: what if that man? were Dreamy Friedrich Engels. Which is, frankly, an amazing choice.

Now even as I write this, I know that [personal profile] genarti is glaring at me for the fact that I am allowing Francis Crawford of Lymond to take over this booklog just as the spectre of Francis Crawford of Lymond takes over any book in which he appears -- and I do think that James takes over the book a bit more from Richard and Kitty than I would strictly like (I love Kitty and her cheerful opium visions and her endless run-on sentences as she staunchly holds down the home front). But to give Brust and Bull their credit, Susan staunchly holds her own as co-protagonist in agency, page space and character development despite the fact that James is pulling all the book's actual plot (revolutionary politics chaotically colliding with Gothic occult family drama) around after him like a dramatic black cloak.

And what about the radical politics, anyway? Brust and Bull have absolutely done their reading and research, and I very much enjoy and appreciate the point of view that they're writing from. I do think it's quite funny when Engels is like "James, your first duty is to your class," and James is like "well, I am a British aristocrat, so that's depressing," and Engels is like "you don't have to be! you can just decide to be of the proletariat! any day you can decide that! and then your first duty will be to the proletariat!" which like .... not that you can't decide to be in solidarity with the working class ..... but this is sort of a telling stance in an epistolary novel that does not actually center a single working-class POV. How pleasant to keep writing exclusively about verbose and erudite members of the British gentry who have conveniently chosen to be of the proletariat! James does of course have working-class comrades, and he respects them very much, and is tremendously angsty about their off-page deaths. So it goes.

On the other hand, at this present moment, I honestly found it quite comforting to be reading a political adventure novel set in 1849, in the crashing reactionary aftermath to the various revolutions of 1848. One of the major political themes of the book is concerned with how to keep on going through the low point -- how to keep on working and believing for the better future in the long term, even while knowing that unfortunately it hasn't come yet and given the givens probably won't for some time. Acknowledging the low point and the long game is a challenging thing for fiction to do, and I appreciate it a lot when I see it. I'd like to see more of it.
sartorias: (Default)
[personal profile] sartorias
Actually I've been doing a ton of reading while I shake off the last of this influenza, which is mostly now lingering chest crud and zero stamina.

While nothing has blown me away, and I've abandoned some other "not for me" books, I did make a virtuous start on The Cull. Beginning with C.S. Lewis's Out of the Silent Planet, first published in 1938.

My copy, the 1965 paperback edition printed in the US, has a cover that actually sort of fits the book, unlike a lot of SF covers of the time depicting generic space skies and cigar rocket ships, with or without a scantily clad lady joined by guys in glass helmets and bulky space suits.

No woman on the cover here, which would have been false advertising as the only woman on stage during the entire novel is a distraught country housewife in the first few pages. (And no, I do not think that this is a sign that Lewis despised women, so much as that he had spent all his childhood and early manhood among males, so his default characters are going to be "he" among "hims". But that's a discussion for another book.)

I've had Lewis's space trilogy since high school (1968). This one I read I think twice, once that year, and then again when the Mythopoeic Society had branches and our West LA discussion group covered the three books.

Teen-me trudged through the first reading looking for story elements that would interest me, and though a line here and there was promising, I found it overall tedious, missing the humor entirely. On that second reading during my college years I saw the humor, and found more to appreciate in Lewis's thematic argument, but that was a lukewarm enough response that I never reread it during the ensuing fifty years.

Now in old age it's time to cull a massive print library that neither of my kids wants to inherit. What to keep and what to donate? I reread this book finally, and found myself largely charmed. The structure is strongly reminiscent of the fin de siecle SF of Wells, Verne, etc--inheritors of the immensely popular "travelogue" of the 1600-1700s--which means it moves rather slowly, full of the description of discovery (and anticipatory terror) as its protagonist, a scholar named Ransom, stumbles into a situation that gets him kidnapped by a figure from his boarding school days, Weston, and Weston's companion, a man named Devine.

As was common in the all-male world of British men of Lewis's social strata, the men all go by last names--I don't think Weston or Devine are ever given a first name, and there are at most two mentions of Ransom's first name, Elwin, which I suspect was only added as a nod to JRRT. Apparently this book owes its origin to a bet made between Lewis and Tolkien, which I think worth mentioning because of the (I think totally wrong) assumptions that Lewis was anti-science. The bet, and the dedication to Lewis's brother, make it plain that they read and enjoyed science fiction--had as boys.

I suppose it's possible to eagerly read SF and still be anti-science, but I don't think that's the case here; accusations that Lewis hates scientific progress seem to go hand-in-hand with scorn for Lewis's Christianity. But I see the scientific knowledge of mid-thirties all over this book. In fact, I don't recollect reading in other contemporary SF (admittedly I haven't read a lot of it) the idea that once you're out of Earth's gravity well, notions of up and down become entirely arbitrary. Though Lewis seems not to understand freefall, he does represent the changes in gravity and in light and heat--it seems to me that the science, though full of errors that are now common knowledge, was as up-to-date as he could make it. That also shows in the meticulous worldbuilding--and to some extent in the fun he had building his Martian language.

What he argues against when the three men are at last brought before the god-like Oyarsa, is a certain attitude toward Progress as understood then, and also up through my entire childhood: that it didn't matter what you did to other beings or to the environment, as long as it was in the name of Progress or Humanity. We get little throwaways right from the start that Lewis's stance clear, such as when Devine and Weston squabble about having a guard dog to protect their secret space ship, but Devine points out that Weston had had one but experimented on it.

Lewis hated vivisection. He knew it was torture for the poor helpless beasts in the hands of the vivisectionists, who believed animals had no feelings, etc etc. He also hated the byproducts of mass industrialization, as he makes plain in vivid images. Lewis also makes reference to splitting the atom and its possible results; I think it worthwhile to note that during the thirties no one knew what the result would be--but there was a lot of rhetoric hammering that we need bigger and better bombs, and splitting the atom would give us that. All in the name of Humanity. Individual lives have no meaning, and can be sacrificed with impunity as long as it's in the name of "saving Humanity."

As his theme develops, it's made very clear that moral dilemmas trouble Ransom--he's aware that humans contain the capability for brilliant innovation and for vast cruelty. He also holds up for scruntiny the idea that the (white) man is the pinnacle of intelligence in the cosmos. The scene when Weston talks excruciating pidgin in his determination to subordinate the Martians and their culture to the level of "tribal witch doctors" is equally hilarious and cringey.

In short, it took over fifty years for me to appreciate this book within the context of its time. I don't feel any impulse to eagerly reread it, but I might some day. At any rate, it stays on the shelf.

Wednesday Reading Meme

Jul. 9th, 2025 09:37 am
osprey_archer: (books)
[personal profile] osprey_archer
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

I mentioned last week how much I was enjoying Hilary McKay’s The Time of Green Magic, and I continued to enjoy it all the way through. Just the kind of children’s fantasy I like: an old house all covered in ivy, magic that is strange and lovely and just a bit scary (as unknown and unknowable things should be), and just enough real world issues (in this case, the children in a blended family learning to get along) to give the story some emotional ballast without making the magic a mere metaphor for anything.

I also finished Marilyn Kluger’s The Wild Flavor, part food memoir and part foraging manual for wild foods in the Midwest and Northeast. Morels! Persimmons! Hickory nuts! And more! An inspiring read for anyone with foraging aspirations, and an appetizing read for anyone who likes reading about food.

What I’m Reading Now

I’ve begun Lord Peter, a collection of all of Dorothy Sayers’ Peter Wimsey short stories. The second story begins with Peter Wimsey admiring a comely French girl who turns out spoilers, if anyone cares about spoilers for a hundred year old short story? )

What I Plan to Read Next

I’ve got the Max in the Land of Lies! How will our twelve-year-old spy handle himself in Nazi Germany?? Tune in to find out!

Connexions (24)

Jul. 9th, 2025 08:40 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan
An admirable capacity to grasp a situation

Rosamund, Dowager Countess of Trembourne, was finding life in Delft curiously agreeable. Had quite seen the necessity of going into exile, somewhere where she would be most unlike to meet any of her social circles either from England or the Continent, before her condition became too apparent to conceal, but had supposed that 'twould be quite immensely tedious.

For she had been used to the diversions of the spaws and the cities she and her late lord had been in the habit of frequenting, quite aside from the excitements of her secret endeavours for the interests of the nation. And dear Gillie….

Even when they had returned to England, while there were still those shunned 'em after the scandal over slandering Clorinda Bexbury and Lord Trembourne had been obliged to publish a public apology in the newspapers, they were still received in enough circles to have a bustling social life, as well as a deal of family matters in train with all this marrying and begetting.

So she had anticipated that it would be exceedingly dull to rest and wait upon lying-in, and then to be brought to bed, and fancied that at her time of life might take rather longer than had been wont in earlier years to recover from her travails once that was done. Entirely ennuyant.

But she had not imagined how much she would feel freed of a burden: like to float up like unto a balloon. Sure she and her late husband had not lived in one another’s pockets, had not shared a conjugal bed since before Lewis’s birth: but he had ever been there, moping about complaining of draughts or stuffiness and sitting down to table to discourse of the unwholesomeness of whatever fare had been set before 'em, and getting into a fret about some symptom he supposed he had. Boring everybody about his spaws and his quacks &C.

At least he did not recount aught about the ladies that provided for his particular pleasures – one felt a little sorry for the creatures, though supposed they were well-remunerated for their trouble.

Here she was, under the care of Mevrouw Peeters, that was kind, and competent, and not in the least encroaching, a very good sort of woman, one perceived that midwives were considerably esteemed in these parts. And the house so very clean and well-kept.

She might beguile the time by improving her understanding of Dutch, one never knew when that might come to be of use, whilst also polishing her abilities in cyphers and lock-picking. And dear good Grissie, sure she did not deserve that her daughter had turned out so well, had put into her trunks materials for embroidery and some several novels.

She entirely did not deserve that Clorinda Bexbury, that must have a deal of business upon hand, sent her the English newspapers accompanied by letters that contained gossip about the inwardness of various matters reported. La, Talshaw dead of some accident! though Saythingport had very properly ceased pursuing that suit to Nora as most improper while the family was in mourning.

But she had not imagined how much time she would pass in simply doating upon tiny Penelope. Had found it not only possible, but strangely pleasant, to feed her herself, although Mevrouw Peeters was quite able to find a wetnurse was one required. Look into those miniature features and endeavour to discern some resemblance to Gillie. Wonder whether the blue eyes of babyhood would darken to that warm brown…. Gaze upon the little hands and feet as if she had never seen a baby before.

Indeed, she had give little enough attention to her others. Had seemed to her an entire ordeal from the begetting to the birth – the months of the discomforts of increase – the time out of the pleasures of Society – And then once born, the infants handed over to wetnurses and nurserymaids.

How different things were, now.

Mevrouw Peeters strongly commended the practice of going promenade somewhat, now that Rosamund was growing stronger – though forbade her yet from carrying the babe herself, so she was followed by Geertje with the child well-bundled-up as she walked along beside the canals, or ventured as far as the Markt square with its bustle and fine buildings.

As they were about to re-enter, came out Mevrouw, saying that there was a gentleman come call for Her Ladyship, that she had put in the best parlour.

A gentleman? Rosamund put out a hand to steady herself against the door. She could only suppose it to be Undersedge, come with some news that should be delivered in person – she could not suppose that the matter of Talshaw was of any great urgency but oh dear, mayhap somewhat had come to Hermione?

She gulped, straightened her back, desired Geertje to take Penelope to her nursery and went towards the best parlour, that was very seldom used.

As she opened the door, she saw that that was too tall to be Greg Undersedge – took a second or so to realize, yes, that was Gillie, Gillie that had somehow found out her refuge. She shut the door behind her and leant against it, her legs trembling.

Why Delft, asked Gillie, though I quite apprehend that it is entirely out of any society that you are to know, a retreat quite like unto a convent perchance.

You are unacquainted with Mevrouw’s profession?

Gillie frowned. Profession?

Rosamund took a breath, stood up straight, leant over to take his hand. Come, she said, opening the door, and leading him upstairs to the nursery, where Penelope was already sleeping peacefully in her crib.

Mevrouw is a very skilled midwife.

Gillie looked down into the cradle, and then up to Rosamund. Ours?

Sir Vernon had initially commended Lord Gilbert to her as a young man that had an admirable capacity to grasp a situation with exemplary rapidity. She nodded. Her name is Penelope.

He picked her up quite surprizing confident for a young bachelor, then Rosamund collected that he had several nephews and nieces, so perchance had some practice in the art. She watched him thoughtfully scrutinizing her.

A pretty babe, he remarked at length. What are you intending to do with her?

She caught his uneasy tone.

Fie, I am not going to leave her outside some foundling institution! She took Penelope, that was still peaceably slumbering, in her own arms. No, 'tis my intention to take her to Yeomans –

Yeomans!

My dear, you must have had the thoughts I have had that perchance the orphans are not quite as bereft of parents as 'tis give out? Even did those parents mayhap not go to church with one another.

Indeed I have supposed 'em mostly by-blows rather than true orphans! Doubtless of friends of Miss Ferraby that found subscribing to her views cost 'em rather too dearly.

Well, 'twould be unmannerly to interrogate upon the matter, but Clorinda Bexbury assured me that Miss Ferraby and Miss Roberts would be entirely agreeable to taking Penelope –

Gillie grinned and said, and she would be in the hands of that peerless mistress of nurseries, Betty Higgins! One could not have the least objection. Those very healthful surroundings – Essie entirely commends the characters of the existing family – for of course visits quite often, still doats on the fiery Flora, to the great distress of all aspirants to his hand – there is an excellent governess – indeed, a prime solution to any difficulty. For Sir Vernon, I must reveal, is most anxious to call you back into the game – has been worrying at me and any other who might know to discover where you are.

She kissed Penelope and placed her back in the crib. The dear thing. But one saw that it would not do to keep her with her, no, she must put her in that very excellent situation among good kind people.

She took Gillie’s hand. I am gratified to hear that Sir V thinks so well of my services! I daresay for the next several months I must be about lingering at spaws, repairing my nerves from the shock of my husband’s death. But I daresay there may be work to be at there.

Indeed, she thought, she was still somewhat knocked up from bearing Penelope, at her age 'twas no light business, recruiting was only sensible.

But let us go and take coffee so that you may tell me what you have been about.

So they went to sit in the parlour, and Gillie recounted his adventures on Rozovsky’s estate, and how the Imbremeres did, and then how things had gone in St Petersburg, and then throughout the Baltic –

Very cold, he remarked. But now, after this short holiday at home in the bosom of my family, I am bound for Paris.

Paris, sighed Rosamund. Alas, that is not a destination for a grieving widow I fear – mayhap when I am out of black – but I might try one or other of the French spaws – Vichy? one hears well of it. Or Spa would not be any very great distance, would it?

Gillie sighed. I fear Sir V may have opinions in the matter and desire you to go to Carlsbad

Rosamund groaned.

– or Baden-Baden, now that would not be an entire impossibility

They sighed. Duty to the nation’s interests, it had to be considered, and here she had been, resting up very comfortable these several months.

A silence fell.

I suppose, Gillie began, stammered, began again, I have been in some thought – now that you are free – that now there is no obstacle

O, Gillie! He had never looked so young.

Rosamund took a deep breath. My dear, she said, do not go further towards where I think you tend. 'Twould be entirely unanswerable –

And one day, she surmized, there would be a younger woman that would ensnare his heart, she could not imagine that this could endure – however much it had become more than a flirtation or a brief indulgence – however little could she deny that 'twas love

No, she would not tie him in formal bonds. And while they might keep the matter clandestine, was it ever revealed, she shrank from the spiteful gossip there would be. Had circulated too much of the like herself.

Now, she said, I fear you should depart. I may tell Mevrouw that you have been bringing me news and messages from family and friends, but I do not think it wise to make it look any more than that you were passing through and did that civil task.

Slowly he nodded. Wisest, he conceded. Lifted her hand to his lips. Until Vichy, then.


Book Review: Midnight is a Place

Jul. 8th, 2025 08:34 am
osprey_archer: (books)
[personal profile] osprey_archer
Onward in the Aikening! This time [personal profile] littlerhymes and I read Midnight is a Place, which is very loosely related to the Wolves series in that it also features an industrial city named Blastburn. There are no crossover characters, no wolves, no reigning Tudor-Stuarts, and the town has completely different industries. Aiken may have just liked the name Blastburn.

However, I’m glad that it is described as related to the Wolves books, as otherwise we wouldn’t have read it and this book is PEAK gothic. Start with Midnight Court, an old house which is falling into ruin because the crabbed and miserly owner has been selling off the furniture and firing all the servants! Add a lonely orphan boy and his Mysterious Tutor! Throw in a Dickensian carpet factory where the carpet-making process ends with a press that can and will squash children on a regular basis! Stir in one more lonely orphan, this one a small and furious girl from France, and you have yourself a rich and savory gothic stew.

This is merely the set-up. Other gothic elements arrive in due course. For instance: the current owner of Midnight Court won it in a midnight bet at the Hellfire Club! (Not actually called the Hellfire Club, but the same idea.) The lonely orphan boy must make his living by descending into the sewers to find treasure. (The sewers are inhabited by savage rats and thirty to forty feral hogs, because Aiken loves a wild animal attack.) The child-squashing press on the mantelpiece does of course go off.

Overall a delight. The only flaw is that the last chapter is pretty rushed, and introduces a completely random plot thread for two pages which is then summarily dropped. Spoilers for the random plot thread ) But you can just kind of ignore that bit and savor all the gothic everything that precedes it.

Connexions (23)

Jul. 8th, 2025 08:38 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan
Very fine news

There had come about a habit in the Rondegate household that one morning in a week Lady Abertyldd would come visit with Lotty and Gianna, to see how Zipsie got on, exchange family news, play a little music and sing perchance, 'twas exceeding agreeable. How different a mother from Cecil’s own was Lady Abertyldd! And on hearing that he had no sisters of his own, to their great shock and distress, Lotty and Gianna had quite offered that as he was now entirely part of the family, they would be his sisters.

Zipsie had given a little amuzed snort upon hearing that – o, a brother, that may take them about on jaunts, and no doubt make 'em little gifts of sweetmeats &C, and mayhap they will work you a pocket-handkerchief or so in recompense. She smiled. But they are good girls, did they not keep that brat Millie in order?

But as this week’s call impended, Zipsie looked across the breakfast table with a little frown, saying, that she would desire an opportunity to convoke privately with Mama, might he offer to take the girls on some excursion? They are lately in a great desire to go to the East India Museum, a girl at their dancing class told 'em of the automaton of a tiger devouring a Company officer to the sound of horrid growls and anguished cries and they are quite wild to see it.

I am quite wild to see that myself! I will be about finding out the terms of admission, and take 'em off on that treat.

That is exceeding kind. And bring 'em back here for tea, so that they do not feel I neglect 'em – Mama will have left by then, and I have Mrs Lucas coming to discourse of ghazuls, but we may send 'em home in the carriage.

He wondered what it was that she desired to be closeted with her mother about: might it be mysteries of womanhood? or might there be some matter of Ollie having an escapade? For his recent letters had contained several mentions of a young actress that had turned out to be one they had known in childhood – Zipsie had wrinkled her nose a little and remarked that sure she recalled the Richardsons, they had been quite the cynosure in charades, even better than the Merretts!

And added that mayhap 'twould be a good thing to distract Ollie from yearning over Thea.

So Lotty and Gianna had quite jumped up and down and clapped their hands at the intelligence that he had arranged this visit to the East India Museum, and a most enjoyable time of it was had.

When they finally re-entered the house, he could hear that there was still activity in the music-room. He told the footman to order tea served in the Mozart salon, and told his sisters-in-law to run along there, while he went to see what was ado with his missus.

In the music-room he found Zipsie at the piano, with Mrs Lucas – a fine figure of a woman, and very graceful for all her stoutness – leaning over her – and a man standing at her other shoulder.

Good Lord, that was Davison! Had lately been elected to the club – friend of Sallington – Oxford don – ah yes, great scholar of Persian, that was it –

Zipsie looked up. Can it be tea-time already? We have been quite lost in Persia I am afraid to say – reft by djinni – well, beginning to find a way to come at setting these ghazuls – la, I am failing in my social duties –

Cecil smiled and said that he and Mr Davison were already acquainted by way of Lord Sallington. Had foolishly not occurred to him that Mr Davison’s studies might be of interest to Zipsie.

Davison said that had only quite lately turned his attention to Persian music, but this was a very fascinating problem of as 'twere translation.

But, said Zipsie, I fancy we have laboured long enough the day – and should go have tea afore my little sisters devour everything – She stood up, and started tidying music and books and papers together.

Mrs Lucas said she could not bide long – was staying at Pockinford House and her sister got into the greatest fret was one a little late –

Zipsie raised her eyebrows a little and said, had heard somewhat of that from Thea. But they might send her in the carriage with her sisters – would not be greatly out of the way to go by Pockinford House –

Cecil nodded and said, entirely answerable.

When they came to the Mozart salon they found Lotty and Gianna drinking raspberry shrub, and having already done a deal of damage to the neat arrangements on the cakestands. Zipsie grinned and went to ring for replenishments as she exhorted her sisters to stand up and show civil – introduced 'em in proper form to Davison – that looked less daunted than Cecil had feared, mayhap he had young sisters of his own?

It was less awkward of a tea-party than he had anticipated – of course, one fancied that Mrs Lucas, in her capacity as a rector’s wife, had a deal of experience along those lines! – and any attempt by Lotty and Gianna to represent the action of the automaton was firmly quashed.

After the girls and Mrs Lucas had been dispatched, Zipsie remaining in the salon to keep Davison company, Cecil returned to find Zipsie proposing that Mr Davison might stay to dine – since they were dining quietly at home the e’en –

One could see no harm. The chap was entirely acceptable, and one need not worry that he was one of those bachelors that insinuates himself in order to get up flirtation or worse with married women. Had that tiresome journey back to Oxford to look forward to.

It transpired that in fact Davison was not returning to Oxford, but was staying at Mulcaster House – Her Grace had lately acquired a most fascinating manuscript that desired to convoke with him concerning – but it so happened that all the family had engagements the e’en and he found himself a little at loose ends –

So, really, he was entirely the thing and a person one would very much wish to know – indeed, very much a friend of Sallington’s rather than a mere club acquaintance – had been to Nitherholme to advize Julius Roberts concerning a Persian garden

He and Zipsie glanced affectionately at one another over the table and revealed that their match had been made at Nitherholme – had seen less than he might have desired of Roberts – had had some notion of inviting him to Wepperell Larches –

Was soon revealed a deal of mutual acquaintance.

After the dessert, Zipsie rose with a little moue saying she would do the proper thing and leave the gentlemen to port and tobacco. He had noticed, during the several courses, that she had not been eating as heartily as her usual wont, and wondered was she a little out of health.

A slight uneasy silence fell.

Do you care for cigarillos? Cecil enquired, going to the sideboard. Sallington has give me quite the taste for 'em. Understand has found an importer so is not dependent upon gifts from di Serrante –

Davison accepted a cigarillo.

After they had puffed a little he cleared his throat and remarked how very enviable was Lord Rondegate’s situation – a wife of such accomplishments and so amiable a nature –

Indeed, Cecil agreed, I am most exceedingly fortunate. We sort very well together. Her family are the most agreeable people – in an excellent set –

They did not linger longer than it took to smoke one cigarillo apiece and consume a glass of port, before joining Zipsie in the Mozart salon.

Cecil scrutinized her surreptitiously, but in the lamp-light she did not appear particularly pale, or have dark shadows under her eyes, so mayhap he was worrying unduly.

At length Davison departed, refusing their offer of sending him in the gig – Cecil had a notion that he was going to drop in at the club before returning to Mulcaster House – but expressing enthusiastic appreciation at their hospitality.

I hope, said Zipsie, taking Cecil’s arm as they turned away from the front door, you did not mind my inviting him to dine – it was so much the habit at Bexbury House that I did not think to ascertain whether 'twould suit you – whenever there was no particular occasion and we were dining en famille there would be quite the congeries of guests – old comrades of Uncle Casimir’s – business colleagues of Granda – all sorts of Ollie and Follie’s friends – old Mr Dalrymple quite often –

O, be entirely easy, my dear! He is a most agreeable fellow that thinks very highly of your talents. And that is a very fine practice, though sure, I fancy 'tis more practicable to accommodate at Bexbury House when there are more than one or two unexpected guests –

Quite so. But, Cecil, really?

Really!

She blushed.

Then gulped, and said, had somewhat to communicate to him, and mayhap they might return to the parlour and sit down to it?

So they returned to the salon, and he offered to ring for fresh tea, but she shook her head and went to sit upon the sopha.

He sat down next to her and took her hand.

She gave a little sigh, and then said, had been feeling a little qualmish this last little while – naught very serious, yet, not my usual state of health, but nothing that seemed any matter to go consult a physician over –

Was that why you wished to be closeted with Lady Abertyldd?

Zipsie nodded. And indeed, 'twas extremely agreeable to talk to Mama without the girls there – have had hardly a chance since we returned to Town – and she was most exceeding reassuring. Said that sure, in the early days of marriage, the humours may go as 'twere somewhat out of order, and that is nothing to fret about, but she is like to think there are signs that I go with child, though one cannot be at all definite –

Zipsie! He put an arm around her. That is very fine news, and I daresay she also had very sound advice about how you should conduct yourself – take care – special matters of diet - &C?

She giggled and said, certainly so! But not to make a great deal of it yet, might be mistook.

Well, we shall not convey the intelligence to Tunbridge Wells, then! He could quite imagine that his mother would wish poor Zipsie to lie upon a sopha for the next several months, did she hear this news.


Connexions (22)

Jul. 7th, 2025 08:38 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan
Had rather not be revealed

Sandy did not anticipate that Maurice was like to be at the club the e’en – was quite the height of Mamzelle Bridgette’s bustling time, the Season still a-whirl and already ladies wishing to be beforehand concerning the wardrobes wherewith they would devastate summer house-parties. But he had a deal less fret over his lover’s health during this time now that he came to apprehend the confederacy of his relatives, that sent Thomasina with a well-supplied basket to sustain her in her toil, and la, she did not dare take any back uneaten! So Maurice was at least eating good food from Euphemia’s kitchen, even was he staying up until all hours.

Mysell-Monting looked up from the chess-board and sighed that he might as well resign, for he could not see any way to evade this trap that MacDonald had got him into, tipped over his king, and rose. Sandy suspected that there was also some matter of an anticipated assignation – sure he would have liked to interrogate Mysell-Monting about his painful pleasures, that he found a very curious matter that converse with Maurice’s sister had not come about to greatly elucidate.

He stood up himself and took up his glass of whisky. Came squeaking towards him Chumball and Pemberton.

MacDonald! Have you heard? Pemb lately had an epistle from Wappinge, that goes antiquarianize in the vicinity of Naples, and in among the minutiae of the statues and ruins &C he has seen, mentions that Basil Linsleigh is about in Society in those parts.

Insofar, said Pemberton lugubriously, does one count Yankees as Society, as we apprehend Linsleigh is staying with some people called Rutledge, from Virginia.

Sandy took a sip from his glass and conceded that he had had some intelligence of Linsleigh’s whereabouts, and that he had not expired like Byron of marsh fever or been slain by Albanian bandits.

Do you suppose he will return? Sure the scandal was a seven-days wonder.

Chumball sniggered and said, did Wappy not mention some model he was painting of quite surpassing beauty?

So, thought Sandy, Marcello had managed to place one of their allies to keep watch upon Basil and his activities, as he had intended. He doubted that Basil was in any eagerness to return to English shores, since he had fled not because of any fear of a scandal over sodomy but from criminal charges to do with illicit black-birding. He remarked that he recalled from his own visits to Lady Bexbury’s villa in those parts that indeed, the local fellows were of exceeding handsome looks, and, it was given out, very willing to oblige Milords Inglesi for quite modest remuneration.

Chumball and Pemberton looked wistful.

Came up Sir Hartley Zellen, saying, did you mention Lady B’s villa? Have just had a letter from Verena, has been some while on its way, about their departing from Rozofsky’s estates and making the journey by way of the Mediterranean, and that they had been offered the hospitality there did they pass through Naples.

One observed that Sir Hartley manifested a pleasing paternal affection towards Verena even had she been staying for some months with her real father, as he remarked upon her various exploits in the Ukraine. Of course, Lady Zellen’s three lovely daughters entirely did him credit – all beautiful, for their fathers had been quite the match to Honora Zellen in looks! – well-trained by their mama in the ways of Society, and had all made good matches, though Verena’s was the most outstandingly remarkable, an entire love-match with Gussie Imbremere, heir to the Marquess of Offgrange.

Did MacDonald care to dine?

Alas, said Sandy, Offerton has been very pressing for me to dine with him privately as has some discreet matter wishes to unfold –

They all looked knowing, for Sandy had a justified reputation for looking into troublesome matters with discretion and bringing about an acceptable resolution. Was that not, in fact, how he had met Maurice? Investigating the theft of his notions by a newcome modiste, Madame Francine.

And here came Terence Offerton, horsey-looking chap with thinning hair, cheeks reddened with broken veins, making amiable to the company though with some air of being eager to be closeted with Sandy.

Sandy hoped that 'twas not some matter of horseflesh – sure he could not count himself as expert in matters of racing and breeding and training, though he supposed he might call upon the knowledge of Belinda Penkarding did it come to it.

As they settled into the private dining-room they exchanged a little general conversation – what sort of a racing-season was Offerton having? Did Sandy ever hear aught of Leo Harper? – but once they had been served and the door closed upon 'em Offerton came to his concern.

Had lately discovered his head groom had took on a young fellow – indeed the matter was of some urgency, one of the other grooms had contrived to break an arm and another had took a fever – that seemed entire all one could desire in the way of handling cattle, a very good way with him – but what gave one to pause was that had been discharged without a character by Blatchett –

 Sandy managed not to start at this intelligence.

Had been employed at Blatchett’s hunting-box in Buckinghamshire – and the tale is, one day His Lordship up and dismisses him, he does not know why.

Sandy looked thoughtful, and said, musingly, one wonders had he seen somewhat that Blatchett had rather not be revealed – might not have understood the inwardness of the business at the time – but did any come questioning –

For he already had some inkling of what the groom might have seen. And that 'twas somewhat that one hoped he had not gone blab about.

Indeed, seems a young guileless fellow enough, but sure have come across fellows at races &C looking as innocent as the babe unborn that were rogues incarnate.

Sandy suggested that mayhap he should come to Offerton’s place and interrogate the fellow, under cover of finding out was there any matter of unjust dismissal and remedy – though, he added gloomily, in Blatchett’s position they are wont to turn off their servants for mere caprice and there is little one may do.

Offerton remarked that to his mind, Blatchett was a poor judge of horseflesh, and not so fine a one of men, either, did he spend so much time in the company of that detrimental Mortimer Chellow. And commenced upon a lengthy and rather confused tale of Chellow’s conduct at some card-party at the races.

So it fell out that a day or so later Sandy went out into Berkshire to Offerton’s place, and had some converse with the head groom, Stalyward, that declared that young Oxton was a fine hand with the cattle – worth two men at least – could not see the least harm in him – would not be entire astonished to learn that Blatchett was about some sly tricks, there was tales about that Chellow chap – and the lad had seen something, or refused to undertake some underhand matter –

One could place a certain amount of confidence in one that had been about racing circles these many years and risen to head groom here: had doubtless developed sound judgement!

To give some air of solemnity to the proceedings Sandy had been made free of the steward’s office, but to ameliorate the severity of the occasion had also provided a mug of ale and a snack of bread of cheese. The lad would have been up since dawn –

Very prepossessing, he came in with damp hair from which Sandy deduced that he had washed away the evidence of the morning’s toil under the pump afore this interview. Was very grateful for the ale &C, as Sandy commenced upon the more general questions –

Brought up around horses – father a groom himself – the stable at Blatchett’s hunting-box had been his first place – very quiet – His Lordship would visit occasional with friends – or sometimes by himself – was mostly a matter of tending Tipton the cob – making sure all was in order against a sudden visit –

His Lordship had not been for some while, but visited lately.

There I was, said the young man, holding Benbow’s head while His Lordship mounted, and I bethought me of the young lady, and once he was in the saddle, I ventured to hope that she had suffered no ill-effects from being bolted with on such a nasty night?

So he snorts and says nothing and rides off. Then that evening his groom Mr Axbury comes to me and hands me over my due wages and tells me to go, I am dismissed. Very fortunate I had friends here that would at least find me a nook to sleep, and they say they are in dire need of a pair of hands – but the being discharged without a character must concern Mr Stalyward.

Sandy looked at him with all the kindness he could summon up – for inwardly he felt very much what Clorinda would term John Knox look at this naïf young fellow ensconced so very close to a place, Jupp’s horse farm, frequented by Bella Beaufoyle. His very good nature was like to be disastrous.

Why, he said, that is very harsh and one must suspect there was somewhat behind but I cannot fathom what it might be. But let me advance your case to Lady Bexbury, that has interest with the Potter-Welch agency, that was in particular established to assist those that had been unjustly turned off or had other reasons for difficulty in obtaining a place.

That is above and beyond kind! Oxton exclaimed. For although everyone here is friendly, and 'tis a good place as places go, I had rather not be about racecourses, where there is a deal of low conduct even without the gambling.

It was a puzzle to think what they might do with him – so many of the establishments to which he might be recommended were those where Bella was like to be a visitor – but Sandy fancied that matters had now got to the place where he should convoke with Clorinda. And mayhap Belinda Penkarding.

So he made further reassurances that the matter would be looked into, and that they would be about finding him a more eligible situation.


musesfool: Sam Wilson & Bucky Barnes (i'm your goddamn partner)
[personal profile] musesfool
I know I had some stuff I wanted to post about but now I can't remember what it was. Oh well.

I finally watched Captain America: Brave New World and it was fine. spoilers )

*

RIP Julian McMahon and Mark Snow.

*

Connexions (21)

Jul. 6th, 2025 11:06 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan
How the place was doing

It was concluded that this fine weather was entirely settled in, and that they could proceed with some confidence with this plan of taking old Mr Mamber on a jaunt out to Marashaylles. Pa said that the old man had revealed that had known those parts in his youth, and 'twould be a pleasure to him to visit the countryside once more, could it be managed.

So, there was arranging with Uncle Sam for the hire of one of their most commodious carriages, and there was the acquisition of one of brother Ben’s latest most comfortable and up to the mark invalid carriages, that he had quite specific designed for travellers. And of course there was Ma, making up a fine pique-nique basket to sustain 'em –

Jessamy and William looked at one another as they loaded it into the carriage and remarked, that sure they need not be in any fears of starvation, did there come some accident of breaking down upon the road in their return!

For they were both going too. William had tactfully put it that it would be most useful instructive to him to be able to converse with one that had been Pa’s mentor in good practices, when what was in his mind was that it would be prudent to be on hand to push the invalid carriage! While Jessamy had remarked that 'twould be a fine opportunity for her to go see how matters were getting along at Marashaylles, quite informal –

Pa quite saw the sense in that! Well, had she not come about to consider that good practices were not confined to questions of domestic administration?

Now they were at the almshouses – very neat and well-kept, a pleasure to look upon – and William lifting Mr Mamber into the carriage – and greetings, and no, this was not Patience, that was the nurse, this was Jessamy, that was now about the business of the manufactory.

Did she not have a look of her mother!

They settled down, and Pa was very particular over ensuring Mr Mamber was comfortable, and so they set off, hesitantly at first through the bustling streets of the City, but at last out onto the open road into Kent.

O, 'twas an excellent fine day to be bowling along a good road, bound on a jaunt into the country!

And there was Mr Mamber, displaying every sign of delight at this excursion, looking out of the window and declaring that 'twas a deal of a while since had come this way, but recollected this or that landmark – had not that coaching inn been there an entire age? – was those over there not what they called oast-houses for the hops?

Pa remarking on how much better the roads were these days – and the construction of carriages much improved as well –

So it went on, until they came to Marashaylles. They drove up to the house, and disposed the carriage in the stableyard, and Joey Smith uncoupled the team and went see about 'em in the very proper fashion that was expected of one that had a place at Jupp’s, relative or no. Jessamy minded on that there should be a fine cask of ale or so indoors in the pantry, went to ensure that she was not mistook, then drew a mug for Joey.

When she came out Pa and William were carefully lifting Mr Mamber into Ben’s fine chair and making sure he was comfortable.

Mr Mamber was exclaiming upon the sweet scent of the blossom, and the song of the birds, and la, were there tears in his eyes?

William came over to convoke with Jessamy as to the most convenable ways they might take him, and where they might halt to have their pique-nique. She – very proud of it! – showed him the map of the estate, adding that sure at present they were still coming about to bring it into being what it should be, had been sadly neglected, did not anticipate to have any great crops this year, but we should see – but did they follow these tracks, there and there, would not have any trouble. Pointed out the little rise in the plum orchard, that she fancied would make a very pretty place to take their rest and have their nuncheon.

Her brother nodded and grinned at her, saying good practices! at which she dug him in the ribs, before he went back to make sure he took the handles of the chair afore Pa could, Pa still being in reminiscent converse with Mr Mamber.

Mr Mamber took a little concern that Jessamy was going to be roaming around all by herself – her brother and father snorted a little at this, for was she not entirely the like of her mother, the figure of a Dahomey Amazon warrior? Moreover, had not her brothers taught her somewhat of the pugilistic art? And anyway, 'twas unlike there would be any about that was not entire licensed to be here and would know who Miss Wilson was.

So his frets were soothed, and they set off along the track. Jessamy went back to see how Joey did – still attentive to the nags to ensure they had not picked up stones or such – enquired as to was he provided with any snack, at which he grinned. Replied that his ma might not be a cook the like of Euphemia but had put him up a nice nuncheon of bread and ham &C.

That was all settled, then. She took a quick look around the parts of the house that were at present in use – the kitchen, the chambers that were now turned into offices, &C – but no-one was there.

Now she could go walk about and see how the place was doing.

No signs of slovenliness! Everything neat – no tools left about, cuttings swept up into piles –

While the birdsong was indeed very pretty, she had had concerns about birds – but observed that nets had been laid over the berry-bushes most like to be raided

Could see where glasshouses and frames were already well under construction.

Did not resist a little skip in her step as she went through into the walled apple orchard –

Oh!

That was not Mr Simcox, the manager that had come with so many impressive recommendations, or any of the others – a blackclad figure –

That turned and said, why, Miss Wilson, did not anticipate to see you here the day – had the desire to make a quick visit before I return to Oxford –

Jessamy made a little dip and ventured a conventional condolence upon Lord Peregrine’s bereavement.

He sighed. Has laid a great burden upon me – never anticipated to be the heir – but do you tell me how matters come along at the manufactory. Have not had the least opportunity to come see how they are.

They went sit upon a fallen trunk. She described how they had already commenced upon clearing that plot of land of his – pulling down the warehouse that was in a quite parlous state – already setting about preparing the foundations –

He said sadly that had hoped to come visit with his friends, show 'em about, but alas – after a brief pause added, Would you care for a little luncheon? Here I have this packed up for me – asked Miss Jupp for advice on trains – next thing is, she has that all writ down for me, and says, here is Miriam provides you with some snack, is most put about you did not mention this beforehand, 'tis a poor simple repast from what she had upon hand – and there is a good deal of it –

Jessamy could not help a small splutter of laughter. Then said, would not spoil her own appetite for the pique-nique she had in prospect, explaining how she came to be there herself.

Though when he unwrapped it, she said mayhap she would take just half of one of Miriam’s apple turnovers –

Birds came to peck about for crumbs.

Jessamy ceased her account of how matters went with Roberts and Wilson’s superior preserves and pickles, to say, but he was returning to Oxford to continue his studies as he had intended?

Lord Peregrine groaned. Oh, I am returning so that I may finish the final term and take my degree, but apparently 'tis not suitable for the heir to the Marquess of Saythingport to mew himself up in a college with fusty old tomes, must go about in Society – so I must decline my fellowship and go conduct myself according to this new station.

Jessamy recalled how very enthusiastic he had sounded about his future course – quite the like of Ben talking about engineering or Patience about nursing! – what was the word – a vocation.

O, how dreadful! she burst out. La, 'tis as if in some tale in the penny parts, that here I was, had been brought up supposing myself the child of Pa and Ma, going out about the family business, and then comes one to say, no, you are really a great lady, that has been hidden like King Arthur with Sir Ector to protect you from enemies, but now you must take up your true position in society. I cannot fathom that anything could be more tiresome. Live the life of a lady indeed! – a deal of you must not do this but you must do that – being very proper – chaperones – law, here is my cousin Gert, will shake her head and sigh over the life that her old schoolfellows Chloe and Bella lead –

You are not constrained to your working at the manufactory?

Not in the least! Had to quite fight with my family over it – had been fascinated since childhood – oh, I daresay I could go be a cook in good service like Ma or Miriam, but the business called to me.

Much about the like. I wonder does the swineherd who is told he is the rightwise king wish to stay with his pigs! But it must be done.

They looked at one another with sympathy.

In the distance someone was calling her name.

There is my brother goes summon me –

They stood up.

Might I come visit the manufactory?

Of course you can, you are part-owner, and welcome, are you able.

She turned to wave farewell as she passed through the orchard wall.

Connexions (20)

Jul. 5th, 2025 10:06 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan
Very agreeable to work thus

Clorinda looked very fondly across the breakfast-table at Leda and said, la, here she had been training up quite the contriver that she dared say would one day step into her own shoes!

Fie, 'tis a day will never come – was entire 'prentice work – but one could see the poor lady felt somewhat cast out into the chilly winds like unto a shorn lamb, even was she left this very comfortable competence. Did not say in so many words but we could apprehend that the ladies in her locality are inclined to be cattish – Mrs Mitchell goes confirm that from matters her maid let drop – And – Leda leant over to help herself to a mutton-chop in the style of General Yeoman’s cook – I could see Maude Coggin’s fingers quite itching to furbish her up a little – would look very well for good dressing – and sighing that was constrained by the restrictions of mourning.

Clorinda grinned as she buttered a pikelet and then considered upon the choice between various of Roberts and Wilson’s superior preserves. But a very sensible woman – did not sit about wringing her hands or hearkening to the gentlemen in the town that I am sure would have been entire delighted to be leant on, but came seek advizers that did not have a dog in the fight.

Tut, Lady Bexbury, that is an exceeding vulgar metaphor!

Dear Matt – Quennells are quite the pillar of probity – and young Mr Q assures me that the late Mr Brackley’s stockbrokers have the most excellent reputation, that Sebastian confirms. Has Mr Abrahams had any insights into the prospectuses yet?

Has been very scathing concerning the ones he has so far looked into! Are the fellows investing their own tin they are like to come to a very sorry state.

They smiled at one another. Sure, thought Leda, it was very agreeable to work thus. How far she had come from hardened Bet Bloggs of Seven Dials. O, Bet had been loyal to her friends, but had not had these, these wider sympathies that Leda had come to from knowing and loving Clorinda. Had learnt that one might be soft and gentle without being weak.

But while it was indeed agreeable to help so amiable a lady as Miss Kirkstall, there were still rogues in the world a deal worse than the fellows offering her business propositions and one dared say in due course their hand and heart. She sighed. Clorinda raised her eyebrows.

O, I was just a-thinking of this nasty business I am looking into, over finding out shameful secrets and then extorting over 'em.

Very nasty, agreed Clorinda. And on the subject of shameful secrets &C, one observes that Blatchett and his parasite Mortimer Chellow have been absent from Society this considerable while. Belinda tells me they have been much seen about racecourses, where doubtless the company is less fastidious.

They both groaned, for though the immediate threat of any damage to Bella Beaufoyle’s reputation had been scotched, there was still the feeling that there was a powder-keg might yet come about to explode, and moreover that there might be other, mayhap even worse, scandals pertaining to Blatchett could come to light.

And that beastly creature Linsleigh is still prowling about the vicinity of Naples, one must wonder what he is about, or mayhap these days is entire the dilettante

Leda rested her chin in her hands and looked at Clorinda. Did not that beastly creature offer to reveal some scandal about you, before was obliged to flee the realm?

Clorina coloured a little. O, poo-poo, has Sandy been a-gossiping? A matter of some paintings from my youth, of a somewhat improper nature, that are now stored very secret at Nitherholme by dear Sallington –

I should like to see those!

Naughty creature!

But, Leda went on, for would not be distracted, is there aught that might bring you into trouble in this way?

Clorinda did not dismiss this concern lightly. She put on a sober face, looked thoughtful, and glanced over at her desk, where Leda knew that, in a well-concealed secret drawer, were miniatures of her daughter Flora as a child, and certain letters that she could not bring herself to destroy.

I think, she said at length, all is secure – you have give me quite excellent advice, my love! – and sure, I never went about to conceal what I had been, and 'tis so long ago that 'tis almost a romantic tale. There is a little fear for Flora and Hannah’s secrets – but indeed, the one I am in most worry for is Josh. O, I fancy he is exemplary discreet over his liaison with Julia Humpleforth, minds on her reputation, but these matters of saving badgers and foxes – for feelings about the right to hunt &C run very high – did it come about revealed concerning his interference in hunts -  

Leda reached across the table to clasp Clorinda’s hand. La, I have seen that Josh can tame Nat Barron, that now believes 'twas entire his own prudent notion to eschew badger-baiting at Abbetts’ ring. And is ever cautious, has learnt somewhat from his Aunty Clorinda, I fathom, from seeing him in court that time presenting as one with his head entire in the air –

Clorinda smirked a little. Josh, that has quite the keenest eye!

Indeed, one saw that Josh Ferraby might appear a dreamer, but that was because his attention was very acutely upon some matter that others did not note.

But, my love, you go be a little evasive –

Leda wrinkled her nose.  I am to go call upon this fellow Vohle, in my guise as Larry Hooper, desiring him to make a daguerreotype that I may send to my aged aunt, to provide an excuse for looking about his premises, and I am a little concerned that he may penetrate my disguise. You have remarked as to how artists of your acquaintance will note resemblances &C –

Even does he find you out a woman, he will, I fancy, suppose that you are one that chooses to go thus for your own reasons – will not know who you are.

Somewhat reassured, Leda rose and went to kiss her beloved, afore setting off to Covent Garden, and Marie Allard’s house, where she was wont to metamorphose into Larry.

There she found the most unusual sight of Marie sitting quite at her ease, looking positive doating at the child Binnie teaching the dog Pompey some trick or other.

Followed Leda up to where she was wont to transmogrify, to convey that she had excellent good news – not merely that here was Binnie’s Ma, continued to show Dorcas’ pious convert, and had obtained work scrubbing, one might have a little confidence this would last – but that she had been in some dilemma about obtaining schooling for Binnie.

And would you believe it? There is one lately comes take refuge with Molly Binns at Dolly Mutton’s, that was a governess afore her wretch of an employer ruined her, and is quite delighted to take up her old occupation.

Why, that falls out exceptional! Leda contemplated Larry in the pier-glass and fancied he would do. Enquired did Marie ever have daguerrotypes made –

Marie snorted and said, she was not obliged to go tout for trade! These days 'twas all personal recommendation.

What, do these fellows confide over their brandy, do you seek a lady that has a fine fierce hand with the lash, can do no better than Whipping Marie

More like, they go mutter to Dumaine or other knowing fellows, do you know of any lady that will do such-and-such –

Sure there must be tales that Dumaine could tell!

But Dumaine, they both nodded and agreed, well knew the worth of discretion.

So Larry went about his business to Vohle’s studio, that did not seem to be doing anything in the way of bustling trade at this hour, and found the fellow there busy at making up stereoscopic slides, that he slid into a drawer when he observed that he had a customer.

Larry’s tale was, that the aged aunt in the country that had brought him up, was in a great anxiety to see that he was well, but he could by no means quit Town and travel to visit her, 'twas quite out of the question. So had the thought that sending her his picture, taken quite from the life, would surely reassure her that he was in health.

Vohle, a short darkish foreign-looking fellow that nonetheless had a marked Cockney note in his speech, looked Larry up and down and remarked that indeed he was a fit young chap.

So he discoursed on about the procedure and had Larry stand thus and so with the light falling in such a way, and must not move, and went fiddling-faddling about with the machinery of the thing, did not seem in particular to make very close examination of Larry himself: while acute observation took in the place and where there might be secret hiding nooks.

Then there was waiting about for the thing to be fixed and mounted – Larry wandered about, picked up a stereoscope, and blushed at what it showed. So the production of saucy pictures was, it seemed, proved upon Vohle?

Vohle, while his hands were busy about the task, and without looking at Larry, said did Mr Hooper ever have an interest in earning a little extra at any time, he saw he was a fellow of very pleasing figure – should strip well –

Saw he had seen somewhat of the other business that was about here – and the matter of it was, there was often commissions came – and at present had one upon hand – a gentleman had a fancy to a series of tableaux of a lady of ripe charms and experience that goes about to initiate a promising young fellow into amorous delights

Say you so!

One could perchance imagine somewhat of the like, had one examined certain of the volumes upon Clorinda’s shelves! But did not suppose Vohle had any apprehension of what would be revealed – sure there were those had quite the taste, one heard, for the presentation of Sapphic amorous delights, but doubted that was required here.

So Larry looked rather shocked, and said, would have to think on’t – extra tin was ever useful –

But would be returning here discreet when Vohle was absent, to have a good poke about!


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