“Oh, my, this sounds like the introduction to a good-bye speech,” her cousinsaid.
Susan lowered her eyes. “Yes, Jessica, I’m afraid itis.”
“I’ve seen how restless you’ve been since we returned from Bath. I was expecting you might want to leave. Did you have a dreadfultime?”
“Oh, not at all. And you have been the perfect hostess. It’s just… I’m afraid, I have a small appetite, and London is too much of a feast for a quiet country girl likeme.”
Jessica smiled and nodded. “I understand. And when you become hungry once again, please just drop me a note and you’re always welcome to visitagain.”
Susan smiled sweetly. “Yes, my dear cousin, Ishall.”
* * *
Susan was so relievedto be home in Ash, and in her own bed. She woke up the morning after she arrived back from London and luxuriated in the softness of her own sheets, lying awake for several moments before stretching and thinking of actually getting out of thebed.
She went to her window where the dawn had progressed to the actual sunrise. She opened the casement windows and inhaled the fresh morning air. How invigorating after the haze of the London mornings. She heard the cock crowing again and watched as the chickens pecked at the earth around thebarn.
Yes, she washome.
“Mamma,” she called out, as she entered the kitchen. “How can Ihelp?”
* * *
Katherine was sittingat the Wilton’s kitchen table with a huge basket of ripe plums in front ofher.
“What are we to do with all of these?” Susanasked.
“Bumper crop. I hate to see them go to waste. Could we make some jam orchutney?”
“Let me see if we have enough crocks to put these up. Louisa used to help with jamming, but she’s no longer with us.” Susan suddenly burst out laughing. “That didn’t come out right. It sounds as though she’s passedon.”
“I’ll help. We’ve been making jams all week. I’m used to it by now,” Katherinesaid.
So they stood up from the table, rolled up their sleeves, and set to work, seeding and cutting up the plums, and putting them into a large jampot.”
“Oh, Mamma will love this. She’s very partial to plumjam.”
The jam was simmering on the stovetop when Susan asked. “Have you heard from your brother? Has he shipped outalready?”
“We had a very short note saying he was sailing on the high tide Tuesday last. He said he was short of time and was unable to write a letter to you, but asked me to give you his regards. You were still in London when the letter came or I would have told you sooner. And how was your trip, by theway?”
“It was lovely seeing Jessica, but the pace of Bath and London tiredme.”
“You went to Bath as well?” Katherineexclaimed.
“We did.” Susan sighed. “But I didn’t enjoy it except for one day when we wallowed in mud like a couple ofpiggies.”
Katherine hooted with laughter. “Mud?”
“Yes, it was a deliciousexperience.”
“Why ever would one wallow in mud? And this is something one pays for?” Katherinelaughed.
“Oh, it was wonderful. It’s excellent for the skin and it makes one feel like being six years old again at the swimminghole.”
Katherine sighed. “I’ll never understand the ways of Londoners. I’m just too much of a countrygirl.”
“Yes. Me too,” Susan said, as she began spooning jam into thecrocks.
