Ashworth Hall Read Online Free PDF

reputation was beyond damaging, and her spirit accepted no artificial bounds.
    “I shall,” Charlotte agreed. “Right away. How many days did you say?”
    “You had better prepare for five or six.”
    She swept out, her head already whirling with ideas, problems, domestic details, plans and difficulties.
    She picked up the telephone and had little trouble in establishing a connection with Vespasia’s house in London. Within three minutes she was talking to Vespasia herself.
    “Good evening, Charlotte,” Vespasia said warmly. “How are you? Is all well?”
    “Oh yes, thank you, Aunt Vespasia, everything is very well. How are you?”
    “Curious,” Vespasia replied, and Charlotte could hear the smile in her voice. She had intended to be tactful and approach her request obliquely. She should have known better. Vespasia read her too well.
    “About what?” she said airily.
    “I don’t know,” Vespasia replied. “But once we have dispensed with the trivia of courtesy, no doubt you will tell me.”
    Charlotte hesitated only a moment. “Thomas has a case,” she admitted, “which requires that we both spend several days in a country house.” She did not specify which one, not because she did not trust Vespasia absolutely, but she was never totally sure if the telephone operator could overhear any of the conversation.
    “I see,” Vespasia replied. “And you would like a little counsel on your wardrobe?”
    “I am afraid I would like a great deal!”
    “Very well, my dear. I shall consider the matter carefully, and you may call upon me tomorrow morning at eleven.”
    “Thank you, Aunt Vespasia,” Charlotte said sincerely.
    “Not at all. I am finding society very tedious at the moment. Everything seems to be repeating itself. People are making the same disastrous alliances they always have, and observers are making the same pointless and unhelpful observations about it. I should welcome a diversion.”
    “I shall be there,” Charlotte promised cheerfully.
    Charlotte then telephoned her mother, who was delighted to have the children. She hung up the receiver and went upstairs briskly to start sorting out petticoats, stockings, camisoles—and of course there was the whole matter of what Pitt would take. He must look appropriate as well. That was most important.
    “Gracie!” she called as soon as she reached the landing. “Grade!” She would have to explain at least the travel plans to Gracie, and what would be expected of her, if not yet anything of the reason. There were hundreds of things to be done. The children’s clothes must be packed, and the house be made ready to leave.
    “Yes, ma’am?” Gracie appeared from the playroom, where she had been tidying up after the children had gone to bed. She was twenty now, but still looked like a child herself. She was so small Charlotte had to take up her dresses, but at least she had filled out a little bit and did not look so much like the waif she had been when she first came to them at thirteen. But the biggest change in her was her self-assurance. She could now read and write, and she had actually been of marked and specific assistance in more than one case. She had the most interesting master and mistress on Keppel Street, possibly in Bloomsbury, and she was satisfyingly aware of it.
    “Gracie, we are all going away this coming weekend. Daniel and Jemima will go to my mother’s in Cater Street. Mrs. Standish will feed the cats. The rest of us are going to the country. You are coming with me as my maid.”
    Grade’s eyes widened. This was a role she was untrained for. It was socially several stations above household, and she had begun life as a maid of all work. She had never lacked courage, but this was daunting, to say the least.
    “I shall tell you what to do,” Charlotte assured her. Then, seeing the alarm in her eyes, “It is one of the master’s cases,” she added.
    “Oh.” Gracie stood quite still. “I see. Then we in’t got no choice,