A Carriage for the Midwife
“‘There is to be a ball at Bever House!’ she cried. ‘And we’re all invited, even Bessie! You must take the lace off my Sunday gown, Susan, and sew it on to my green silk.’ ‘I ha’ better things to do than sit around stitching at your gowns, Miss Marianne,’ said Susan, briskly piling newly washed linen into a basket. Marianne scarcely heard her.
‘’Twill be such happiness to go to a real ball! I wish I had one o’ those big waving ostrich feathers to sew to my cap!’ ‘Why don’t ye wear a cock’s tail-...feathers like the Miss Smarts ha’ sewn on to their bonnets?’ asked Susan tartly as she hurried off upstairs. Since Mrs Twydell had returned to Pulhurst with her baby, Mrs Bennett spent a great deal of time visiting her there, and Susan’s household responsibilities had increased.
Marianne’s excitement was short-lived.
‘Your father won’t go hobnobbing with the Calthorpes and their grand friends,’ said the farmer’s wife, ‘and neither will Tom. Bessie’s too young to stay up so late, and my dancing days are over.MoreLess
‘’Twill be such happiness to go to a real ball! I wish I had one o’ those big waving ostrich feathers to sew to my cap!’ ‘Why don’t ye wear a cock’s tail-...feathers like the Miss Smarts ha’ sewn on to their bonnets?’ asked Susan tartly as she hurried off upstairs. Since Mrs Twydell had returned to Pulhurst with her baby, Mrs Bennett spent a great deal of time visiting her there, and Susan’s household responsibilities had increased.
Marianne’s excitement was short-lived.
‘Your father won’t go hobnobbing with the Calthorpes and their grand friends,’ said the farmer’s wife, ‘and neither will Tom. Bessie’s too young to stay up so late, and my dancing days are over.MoreLess
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