Her answer gave Lady Constance pause. “Well, it is difficult to argue with that,” she said, after a moment. Then she went to ring for Lord Fredrick’s lozenge.
EPILOGUE
A Letter to Miss Charlotte Mortimer
WITH SO MUCH TO PONDER, and so much tidying up to do (for of course Penelope and the children volunteered to help clean up the dreadful mess that had been made), it was nearly a week before Penelope had organized her thoughts sufficiently to write to Miss Charlotte Mortimer about this first, eventful Christmas at Ashton Place.
She and Cassiopeia were seated in the nursery near the window, where the light was good for writing and Cassiopeia could enjoy the antics of Nutsawoo playing in the branches. Alexander and Beowulf were a little ways away, reenacting the Battle of Hastings with toy soldiers, but they were doing it quietly, and everyone was content.
After wishing her a Happy New Year and inquiring how she liked the journal Penelope had sent as a gift, in quick strokes Penelope told Miss Mortimer about the unsavory tableaux, the unexpected letter, the uninvited squirrel, and the unthinkable hunting expedition. She decided not to mention the mysterious howling from behind the attic wall, at least not for now. The more time passed, the more she doubted she had really heard anything, and ever since the embarrassment of mistaking Old Timothy for the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, she had vowed not to let her imagination run so wild in the future.
She concluded her letter with her thoughts on the question of who might have let the squirrel in, and why. Then she added a postscript about how all the fuss had ended happily, for not only had she not been fired from her position and the children sent away, but the whole escapade had led to the addition of dear Nutsawoo to their lives.
You know I believe that all children should have pets if it can possibly be managed, she wrote. I feel it is beneficial to give even the littlest children responsibility for something more helpless and in need of care than themselves. In this way selfishness is avoided, generosity is nurtured, and the heart’s affections are exercised until they can bend and stretch to encompass all the world’s creatures.
Penelope signed her name and then blew on the ink to dry it before folding the letter and addressing it for the post. During the letter writing Cassiopeia had taken out her doll-sized combs and brushes and amused herself by playing with Penelope’s hair, as little girls so dearly like to do, even to this very day.
“Lumawoo hair, pretty, look.”
“I am not in the habit of gazing into mirrors for entertainment,” Penelope said distractedly. But she was secretly pleased by the compliment. With all the hullabaloo of getting ready for the party, she had never had time to apply the herbal poultice Miss Mortimer had sent to her, but even without it she noticed how her hair seemed to be remaining in good health—perhaps it had even acquired a bit more shine in the last week or so. No doubt the abundant food at Ashton Place and fresh country air agreed with her.
“Look,” Cassiopeia said again, as she brushed Penelope’s hair down its full length, now about halfway down her back. “Apples.” Apples was her current word for all things reddish. “Cassawoof apples, Lumawoo apples,” she repeated.
Before Penelope could see what on earth the girl meant, Cassiopeia pulled a lock of her own auburn hair loose from its ribbon, laid it next to a lock of her teacher’s, and draped them forward over Penelope’s shoulder, where they could both see them intermingled. The color was identical.
“Apples,” Cassiopeia said, delighted with the discovery. “Same apples!”
“Silly girl,” Penelope said fondly, as she quickly twisted her hair back into its customary bun. “It is just a trick of the light I am sure. Now, let us read another chapter of A New Friend for Rainbow—but this time I expect you to follow along. It is time you began learning to read for yourself….”
And, with little Nutsawoo nestled in Cassiopeia’s lap (for he too seemed to enjoy a good story), that is just what they did.
To Be Continued…
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Abundant thanks to my agent, Elizabeth Kaplan, who would make a superb governess, and to my remarkable editor, Donna Bray, who loves Jane Eyre as much as I do. They are both Swanburne girls, through and through, and I am lucky to know them.
Thanks to Alessandra Balzer, Ruta Rimas, and all the excellent people at Balzer & Bray and HarperCollins Children’s Books for their support and enthusiasm. I’m especially grateful for the attentive copyediting by Kathryn Silsand and Kimberly Craskey. Special thanks to Melissa Sarver at the Elizabeth Kaplan Literary Agency for her smarts, good cheer, and unfailing professionalism.
Squealing fangirl thanks to Jon Klassen, whose illustrations are so marvelous they make me want to howl with joy.
I salute and thank the many faithful family members and friends whose patient and supportive energies help keep this writer from slipping too far down the slope, especially Beatrix, Harry, Laury, Mana, Andrew, Joe, and of course, Bob. Lil’ the dog deserves a nod also, and a scratch behind the ears.
Sincere thanks to Professor Michael Oil for his useful comments, especially regarding the work of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Portions of the book were written and revised during several delightful residencies at the Lasagna Cottage Writer’s Sanctuary and Snack Shack; for this I am deeply grateful. (To my fellow authors: do not endeavor to apply for this residency; it is offered by invitation only and, frankly, there is not much room at the cottage. However, the lasagna is delicious.)
Maryrose Wood
April 17, 2009
About the Author
MARYROSE WOOD writes books for the sort of reader who is not yet old enough to drive but enjoys taking journeys of the imagination nevertheless. Her qualifications for this important work include a scandalous stint as a professional thespian, many years as a private governess to two curious and occasionally rambunctious pupils, and whatever literary insights she may have gleaned from living in close proximity to a clever but disobedient dog.
She writes her books in a room that faces a garden; the squirrels are a never-ending source of distraction. You can visit her online at www.maryrosewood.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Credits
Jacket art © 2010 by Jon Klassen
Jacket design by Sarah Hoy
Copyright
THE INCORRIGIBLE CHILDREN OF ASHTON PLACE BOOK 1: THE MYSTERIOUS HOWLING. Text copyright © 2010 by Maryrose Wood. Illustrations copyright © 2010 by Jon Klassen. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data.
Wood, Maryrose.
The mysterious howling / by Maryrose Wood; illustrated by Jon Klassen.—1st ed.
p. cm.—(The incorrigible children of Ashton Place; bk. 1)
Summary: Fifteen-year-old Miss Penelope Lumley, a recent graduate of the Swanburne Academy for Poor Bright Females, is hired as governess to three young children who have been raised by wolves and must teach them to behave in a civilized manner quickly, in preparation for a Christmas ball.
ISBN 978-0-06-179105-5
[1. Governesses—Fiction. 2. Feral children—Fiction. 3. Orphans—Fiction. 4. Balls (Parties)—Fiction. 5. Christmas—Fiction.] I. Klassen, J., ill. II. Title.
PZ7.W8524Mys 2010 2009024256
[Fic]—dc22
EPub Edition © January 2010 ISBN: 978-0-06-198665-9
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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