Curricle & Chaise Read Free

your station, my girl. You no longer have the run of your father’s house (which I always felt to be highly misjudged on your poor mama’s part – but then, she was never of such superior understanding as myself) – and you have no low tradesmen to deal with here. Just you remember how desperate your position would be wi thout your u ncle Abdale to protect you – there is no room for proud, wayward airs and graces here.’
    ‘Wayward airs and graces?’ returned her niece, angrily. ‘Wayward airs and graces? How can you possibly say that I am wayward? I have scarcely been in this house twelve hours and already …’
    ‘You seem to forget…’
    ‘I f orget nothing, a unt. I would, rather, remind you that – until this very day – I have required nothing of your family in spite of all my troubles. I thought that you had offered me a home as befits your sister’s daughter but I no sooner enter your door than it appears that I am to be treated little better than a servant. Worse, for at least the servants receive some income for their efforts whilst I (I am surely correct to surmise) will receive nothing for mine.’
    ‘You should realise, Lydia, that your high and mighty ways, which may have served you well when dealing with tradesmen in Bradbury, have no place here at Abdale where your position is so inferior as to make them totally inappropriate. Indeed, I should hope that you might actually appreciate the kindness I have shown you in offering you a home here (with the luxury of which you could scarcely be familiar) by remembering your place from now on. You are here purely because your uncle could not see you thrown onto the streets. In return I should hope for a little respect in future and an acknowledgement of the very great favour we have done you in welcoming you under our roof. All I ask in return is that you undertake some little duties, which will be of no consequence to you at all, in an endeavour to make your residence a little less burdensome to us. I shall tolerate no more insolence from you, Lydia. You would do well to remember that from now on.’
    It was no more than Lydia shoul d have expected. It was beyond a unt Abdale’s power to be truly charitable. Deep in her heart she had suspected something of the sort all along. The thought flashed through her mind that she should re-label her trunk and go post haste to her a unt Bridger in Netley, but this was almost instantly dismissed. Aunt Bridger, although she made light of the fact, was a lady of very small accommodation and even smaller means; she had already done Lydia the kindness of taking her sister to live with her. She could not really be expected to take Lydia too, however attractive the prospect. Lydia looked at the cold, proud woman before her with dislike. Her aunt was triumphant and preparing for another round with evident anticipation. Lydia smiled wryly to herself . If a battle was what she wanted then at least she could deny her that .
    ‘I appreciate and thank you for the honour you have done me by taking me in. I thank you, also, aunt, for explaining my position in your household so clearly. I will remember it in future and not offer you any further rudeness. Neither shall I again mention the injustice I feel you have done me today. Suffice to say that, had our positions been reversed, and it were my cousin Julia seeking assistance, I flatter myself that she would have been welcomed with much more genuine warmth and sympathy in my parents’ house than I have been accorded today in yours. What I would say is that, whatever my own financial position and however you choose to disparage it, I remain the daughter of parents of whom I am justly proud. No-one, ma’am – not even you – can rob me of my birth.’
    With that, she turned haughtily to the door and glided out of t he room, leaving a discomfited a unt Abdale behind her.

Chapter 2
    Although she had managed to hide it quite admirably, Lydia was seething when she returned