Chapter 1

Back to Misselthwaite

Thwaite Train Station

1914

Everyone thought that Archibald, Lord Craven was mad as a March hare when he allowed his niece Mary Lennox to go to university with her cousin Colin. But the two always have been together, and they spent time that wasn't used for studying or socialising with the people from the people they met in Oxford with their friend Dickon, who recently completed his education in the Royal Agricultural College.

In gratitude for his contribution towards his son's ascent to good health, Archibald had taken an interest in young Dickon Sowerby. The lad was bright and quick, with a dab hand at gardening. So after Archibald conferred with a very exultant and grateful Susan Sowerby, Dickon would be going to the local school, then the Royal Agricultural College. All expenses would be paid for by Archibald—asking nothing in return but for the lad to make a good living for himself and help his family.

Standing next to Archibald was John—who now drove a car—the horses weren't used so much except for hunts and such. John Petrie was no longer known as John Coachman, but simply John. His Lordship procured two cars, and paid for someone to teach John drive automobiles. Although it took the now former coachman a bit longer to get used to automobiles, he was able to drive without fear of colliding into something. Or someone.

"Oh, here's th' train, m'lord. I'll take care of th' luggage. Ye excited to see them?" asked the former coachman turned chauffeur.

"Aye, that I am. It's a graidely day, to be sure," replied his employer. Archibald became a changed man after he came home to find his son healthy, strong, and standing. He could hardly believe that eleven years have passed since then, when his niece Mary—who he had come to treat like the daughter he never had—came from India—a yellow, sour-looking puss of a girl. But Mary ceased to be that, Archibald. The garden changed Mary's features—filled her out, brought a rosy glow to her cheeks.

Archibald remembered Ruby Lennox. Her husband Leonard was Lilias' older brother. Ruby was indeed, but frivolous, shallow and flighty. He thought that her daughter had now surpassed her beauty. Colin once reported to him that Mary had all the Oxford lads chasing her without her knowing it—as she treated her cousin's friends like brothers. And who wouldn't chase her? The young woman had hair the colour of dark honey, which fell in a waterfall of curls and waves. Her eyes a peculiar mix of green, grey and blue—depending on the direction of the light, and her skin—a rosy, pearly glow, which was the result of spending her free time in the garden.

Archibald remembered Mary protesting about the large brimmed hat that Medlock had given her. Funnily though, the girl had crept her way into the rather irascible housekeeper's heart, thus softening her. Medlock was concerned that the sun would ruin Miss Mary's complexion. "And you know, my lord, that she has a very remarkably beautiful complexion. If her mother would be alive, she would be envious."

"Mary wouldn't be here if Ruby Lennox survived the cholera," Archibald remembered replying rather tepidly.

"You're right," the housekeeper murmured her assent. "I'll see about getting her a sun-hat, all the same."

When Mary saw the hat, she initially looked at it with distaste. It was a good, simple sturdy hat, but it was not the design that she had found wanting. "I don't need a hat, Uncle," she said in confusion.

"Mrs. Medlock says that it would be protection for you when the sun goes too hot in the sky. She doesn't want you to ruin your complexion."

"Uncle, you know that I don't really care for these things." Mary protested.

"Mary, my dear girl, humour Medlock. After all, she's got a soft spot in her heart for you, no matter how much she denies it."

Mary only laughed. But she used the hat, and went to Thwaite to buy some ribbons for the hat to make it look gay. This she used, along with Dr. Craven's gift to her—a pair of new gardening gloves.

Archibald's reverie was interrupted by a young woman who rushed toward him and gave him the warmest of hugs. "Uncle Archie! It's sooooo good to be home!"

"Darling girl. You look so well."

"I feel well. I've finished University! Although I'll miss hurrying and scurrying around libraries. And I'll miss St. Hilda's!

Colin gently disentangled Mary from his father. "Everything all right, Father?" he asked. Archibald nodded his head heartily. "I'm looking forward to working with you, my dear boy. Are you sure you do not want to work in Lincoln's Inn? I can put in a good word for you…"

"Absolutely sure, Father. I read Law so I could be of some use to the estate. It's about time I worked with you."

"Have you heard about what Mary plans to do after she's finished university?"

"She says she intends to take some exam. Wants to teach at the village school. Best that you ask her yourself."

Dinner time was a rather gay affair. The two cousins chattered about their last days in Oxford, and Archibald nodded as they relayed their adventures.

"…there was a ball a few days ago before we started home, and we didn't leave until we saw dawn," was Mary's excited narration.

"And Mary was the belle of that ball, Father. I can only bet that if I were not at the ball, half the lads in my class at Brasenose would propose marriage to her."

"Colin!" Mary burst into horrified laughter.

"'Tis true, dear cousin. When you were dancing with Alexander Birtwistle, James Wraysford was looking daggers at him. And Father, when Donald Carmichael was dancing with Mary when the quadrille came, Martin Hillsover looked ready to kill him."

Mary groaned. "Oh Colin, that's the most outrageous tale! They're just good friends—and that's all they'll ever be for me, and besides, Martin Hillsover is going to marry Jennie Wilson from Lady Margaret Hall."

"You're not serious!" Colin gasped. Mary nodded. "Some woman gave out a tea party, and Jennie was there with the other girls at St. Hilda's and Lady Margaret Hall. I was there too, so I had the privilege to see the engagement ring for myself."

"Well I'll be dashed," Colin said in astonishment.

"Colin," his father said mock reprovingly.

"Yes, Father," Colin grinned sheepishly. So did Mary.

Archibald turned to his niece. "So….Mary. What do you intend to once university is over?" Mary smiled eagerly. "Well, Uncle Archie—I intend to ask your permission, but tomorrow, I intend to visit the village school and ask if I can apply for a place there. If I need to take some exam before I can apply, then so be it."

"Well, that's a worthy endeavour. As long as you can handle the village children," Archibald replied encouragingly.

"Thing is…you see, people might talk. You know…what's a girl living in a large manor doing teaching village children. I do know why I want to teach, but you know…" Mary trailed off.

"I understand, dear girl," Archibald replied reassuringly. "Let them talk. I'll deal with them. There's nothing wrong with a young woman finding her place in the world."

Mary went to her own bedroom. It still looked the same, with a few improvements. After all, she was no longer a little girl, but rather a young woman with a future ahead of her.

Well, at least, she hoped so. She didn't want to get married—at least not yet. Colin had been giving her digs about it all the time. And every time, they had a row about it. Why was he keen to marry her off to anyone he thought suitable?

She rang for Louise to help her get ready for bed. Usually it was Martha, but it was her day off today. Mary sighed. There wasn't anyone else for her to confide in.

Tomorrow would have to wait.