Today's Reading
CHAPTER ONE
You have a caller, madam," Godfrey said, in a tone of voice that implied Diana was at fault for this circumstance.
Diana looked up from her needlework in surprise, as it was past visiting hours and so close to dinner that it could only be assumed whoever was calling was angling for an invitation. She turned to look at her companion in confusion and inquiry, but "companion" was an exaggerated description of Mildred, her late husband's sister, who was asleep on the sofa. Mildred was the one thing Diana's wealthy husband had left to her upon his death that she could have happily done without.
"Mildred!" Diana said loudly.
Mildred's head snapped up. "I beg your pardon, but I slept poorly last night. The moon was waxing. Or waning. I always get the terms confused." She blinked a few times, before shaking her head. "Whichever it was, it had quite an effect on the river, and it was roaring ferociously. But I'm sure you heard it yourself..."
"I enjoy the sound of the river," Diana said.
"Yes, I know," Mildred said. "Your constitution is unnaturally robust for a widow." She looked reproachfully at Diana, as she often did, as if she knew Diana didn't mourn Mr. Boyle's death sufficiently. Diana found herself almost pleased at the news of an intrusion that she'd previously found annoying, as it gave her an excuse to change the subject.
"We have a caller, Mildred."
"A caller? At this late hour?" Mildred turned to Godfrey, who had stood watching this byplay and was now directing his disgruntled look at her. "Who is it, Godfrey?"
Ignoring Mildred, Godfrey walked over to his mistress, presenting her with the card he held. "Mr. Raymond Pryce," Diana read aloud.
"Never heard of him. Send him away," Mildred said.
Diana had considered doing exactly that, as she had grown so unused to going about in society since her husband's death (not that she had been what one would call gregarious before that), and she was anxious at the thought of entertaining a perfect stranger. Still, she was the mistress of Whitley House, little though Mildred might like it, and she had very few opportunities to exert her authority. So she nervously patted her hair and her dress, took a deep breath, and told Godfrey, "I am at home."
Mildred looked at her as if she had gone mad but said nothing in reply, though she made a clicking sound that signified her disapproval and caused Diana to feel even more pleased with her small act of rebellion.
Godfrey sighed, as if wondering how he'd sunk to serving such a troublesome pair of females, but left to do Diana's bidding. She spent the time while he was gone considering whether it was worth her while to look for a new butler, or if she should continue to employ her late husband's choice. It seemed cruel to reward Godfrey for his many years of service by giving him the sack, but neither did she think that the lady of the house should be intimidated by her own staff, and Diana had always been made to feel as if Godfrey were doing her a favor when he performed even the simplest of his duties.
Her musings were cut short by the entrance into the drawing room of their mysterious caller.
Even though Diana had been married for five very long years and widowed for more than one, she had just recently turned five-and-twenty. However, Mr. Pryce looked even younger than she was, though Diana might have been misled by the fact that his ears were slightly oversized and gave him the appearance of a child who had not yet grown into them. Or it could have been that she had grown so accustomed to Mr. Boyle, who had been fifty-eight years old when he died, that a man of her own age appeared infantile in comparison. But it was not only Mr. Pryce's appearance but also his demeanor that gave the impression of a shy young boy, as he entered the room as if he was afraid of them, darting a quick nervous glance at Mildred before performing a jerky bow.
Diana and Mildred rose at his entrance and bobbed their heads in response to his bow, before Diana gave him permission to sit. His reaction to her command was also very bizarre, as he looked at Diana in surprise, which quickly transformed into delight.
"You are Mrs. Boyle?" he asked, smiling tentatively at Diana and looking her up and down—a little too obviously, Diana felt. Mildred must have shared Diana's opinion, as she cleared her throat angrily.
...
