Feral Park Read Online Free Page A

to do. I will not have my wife’s sister and your only extant aunt spending her parish nights at the Three Horse Inn. Imagine, as well, how tongues will waggle from the scandal of our having put up the two in Mr. Whitaker’s drab and dusty caravansary for no other reason than that she grates upon us.”
    “May we at least write to her first, Papa, and entreat her to have the companion, Miss Pints, deloused prior to their arrival?”
    “We certainly may not! The incident you have brought to mind was an exceptional occurrence and your aunt was duly apologetic over it. I trust that it will not happen again.”
    “It had better not.”
    “Check yourself, my dear daughter. The sullen look you present does not become you.”
    Anna obliged her father by softening her countenance.
    “Now who else to add to our guest list?” asked the father.
    “Left as is, it would be a strange party, would it not?” noted Anna in response.
    “Indeed. Let us then set an additional place for the bachelor Mr. Nevers.”
    Anna sighed. “Papa, the vicar is such a popinjay and so very dull. Must we have him?”
    “I rather like the fact that Mr. Nevers speaks his heart and mind without self-correction. Do you find his sermons dull?”
    “No. They are quite lively. It is when he steps from the pulpit that his speech becomes insipid. And I do not join him in any of his opinions. Moreover, he hardly seems interested in the opinions of women. Only men. Depend on it, he will spend the entire evening being inordinately interested in every little thing that Mr. Waitwaithe says, and I shall not have more than a word with the guest of honour, myself.”
    “Then we should ask to our table someone who may do to Mr. Nevers exactly what you predict that he will do to Mr. Waitwaithe. I suggest that we invite the milliner and tailor, Mr. Groves. You notice, daughter, how he tarries after the service each Sunday so as to engage Mr. Nevers in animated private discourse.”
    Anna smiled. “ That , Papa, is an excellent idea. And perhaps he will bring along some hats in the latest styles for us to try on. It should be a most droll finish to the evening.”
    “Now, of course, we are out of balance.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Four men and three women. We must invite one member more of the fairer sex. I suggest that it should be your friend Miss Dray.”
    “I am of two minds about Gemma, Papa.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “Only this: should I fail to request her attendance, I fear that she will take offence at being overlooked. And yet she promotes her cousin John Dray against my solid interest in Mr. Waitwaithe. I wager that she will scrutinize my every glance in Mr. Waitwaithe’s direction, and put herself to the task of dissecting every sentence I speak to him. I should be thoroughly discomposed for the chief of the evening, and not myself at all.”
    “And yet she is your dearest friend. Not only will she take umbrage not to be asked, she should be quite hurt as well.”
    With a sigh: “You are right. She is a dear friend. Oh, bother. I suppose ask he we must.”
    “May I enquire, daughter, as to the depth of your feelings for Mr. Waitwaithe?”
    “I do not swoon in his presence, Papa, but I am quite fond of him.”
    “Of his looks only, or is there any other attribute that solicits your favour?”
    “I understand from those who know him and from those who have had business with him, that he is kind and courteous, though a bit shy, but to me retirement is no demerit. I find diffidence in a man to be even somewhat endearing so long as the gentleman does not permit the trait to demean him before others.”
    “And you know for a fact that he does not demean himself through his retirement?”
    “For a fact, no, Papa. I am, however, hopeful that his pride—in whatever measure he possesses it—affords him the self-confidence and poise necessary to credit him to his sex. Now, before I bid you goodnight, spirited into my dreams by thoughts of