Clarissa and the Poor Relations Read Free Page A

she could bear it, her dear, dear, friends must not.

 
 
 
 
Chapter 2
The Ladies Contrive
 
     
    If they were to quit the Academy before the arrival of Mr Thorne, the ladies had a great deal to do. Miss Micklethwaite did venture the opinion that it would be better to await his arrival and inform him of her decision, but when Clarissa declared that it would be better if he were faced with a fait accompli she could not but see the force of it. A young man of overbearing manner who was ten years her senior, Mr Thorne would not take kindly to his wishes being overset. No doubt, thought Augusta, he also had some plans as to how to manage Clarissa’s money for her: plans that might be to his advantage. Of this, she said nothing, merely marshalling the ladies in the packing.
    They could now take all the books that they had been so unwilling to leave behind (even though Basic Arithmetic for young Scholars was unlikely to be of use in a country house), for Sullivan had declared his intention of travelling ahead with the trunks, whilst Mary could accompany the ladies on the hired postchaise. This was a relief, for who knows what state the house would be in and Sullivan could be depended upon to provide the basic comforts for their arrival.
    He had something to say to Clarissa before he left. ‘You have not been wont to worry much about your mode of dress here miss, quite understandable, I’m sure. But it will not do to arrive in Hertfordshire looking, well…’ Sullivan paused, embarrassed.
    ‘Shabby genteel. I know.’ said Clarissa. ‘But there is hardly time…I’ll discuss it with the ladies. Thank you Sullivan’
    ‘Very good, ma’am.’
    Oriana had already done some thinking about this she confided when Clarissa brought up the subject. ‘And I believe I have the very solution, if you will not take it amiss. Your mama’s wardrobe and some chests of fabric that I found have given us some unexpected treasures. If you would not object to having her black silk evening gown altered for you, I should think that would be the very thing. Plus the two black muslin gowns that Mrs Trimble in town is making for you will be sufficient for daywear until we find someone in Hertfordshire.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Clarissa, blushing, ‘But will they be grand enough for the lady of the manor? I wish to be taken seriously when I deal with the locals. I do not want feminine folderols, but only to at least look like a lady of quality rather than the silly schoolgirl that I fear I am.’
    Oriana suppressed a sigh and grabbed at her hand. ‘Only come with me and see what your mamma has been hiding.’
    Upstairs, in her mother’s room were closets and chests that she had not explored since she was a child. Oriana had thrown them opens and had heaped the gorgeous contents onto the bed. Clarissa gave a little sigh at entering her mamma’s sanctum, but soon became embroiled in the quite luminous hoard before her. Laid away carefully in mothballs and lavender, was all the finery of a Viscount’s daughter that was useless for a provincial schoolteacher. To be sure, fashions of whale-boned bodices and crinoline skirts looked strange to the young ladies who wore the simpler styles, but the sheer luxury and colour of the silks, satins, brocades and gold net could not but delight them.
    ‘Look. Some Brussels lace that we can use to trim your mourning gowns,’ said Oriana, ‘and a lace shawl from Spain to wear with your mamma’s black silk in the evening. And when we get to Hertfordshire you will likely find a dressmaker to make the velvet of this cloak into riding habit.  And if you were to buy some lengths of fine wool we can fashion a very respectable carriage dress and trim the bonnet and muff with this ermine.’
    Clarissa fingered the strange clothes with confusion and delight. ‘Trimmed with ermine …oh no, Oriana. I just wished to look more respectable.’
    ‘Stuff and nonsense.’ cried Oriana stoutly; ‘You must look the thing.