by Jane Austen
It was something of a hurried invitation, for the matter of informing the relatives of Lady Denham’s demise was not to be delayed. Suffice it to say that Maisie accepted with heartfelt exhilaration, the doctor gave her a single kiss on her pink cheek, and little more was to be said between the two of them until all the formalities of attending the grieving members of Lady Denham’s family had been seen to.
There was a brief exchange on the stairs, when Dr. Wellscott, unable to contain his delight, said to Maisie,“You curious little creature, a bookworm all along, eh? That explains the mystery of my books seeming to move about in the breakfront by themselves.”
Tragedy could not be felt! It might have been expected that a person as seemingly sprightly as Lady Denham would have lived longer; many others have determined to do so before her. Alas, she did not, but her death was judged, by at least three people, as having occurred at a most fortuitous time. Dr. Wellscott, Maisie, and Charlotte all knew, once the points of the matter had been discussed amongst them, that if Sanditon still had its great lady, it would not have its Dr. and Mrs. Wellscott. And their value was not to be underestimated.
CHAPTER 32
In life Lady Denham had been nobody’s fool and her character in death was not about to alter, her Will and Testament delighted and disappointed, as was to be expected and the simplest way to give explanation of how the lady dispensed her fortune is to peruse the document that outlined the matter. It ran as follows:Last Will and Testament of Lady Elizabeth Grace Denham
In the name of God,Amen.
I, Elizabeth Grace Denham, of Sanditon, East Sussex, in perfect mind and memory do make and ordain this my last will and testament, inform as follows, to witnesses:
To my niece, Clara Brereton, it is my will that she shall have the collection of lace collars in my possession at the time of my death. It has been my belief that a legacy such as this will prove useful and of some small sentimental value to her.
To Miss Esther Denham, I bequeath the sum of two hundred pounds. My suggestion is that she might consider pursuing a career in nursing; such has been her attentive kindness to me, during my last illness.
It is my dearest wish that Sir Edward Denham should be in possession of a greatly valued collection of verse, in various volumes, from the library at Sanditon House. His love of poetry exceeds any I have occasioned to witness in any other human.
To Eliza, Julia, and William Hollis, respectively, I wish to state that, due to their connection to my late husband Mr. Hollis, I have always felt very particularly toward them. In recent years, the importance of this connection has intensified in me and with that in mind I determined to have exact replicas of my late husband’s portrait made in order that they would each have these mementoes to enjoy. These, I am sure, they will treasure.
Additionally, my entire estate, to include the sum of thirty five thousand pounds, land, and property, I bequeath to the town of Sanditon. It is my wish to appoint Mr.Thomas Parker as trustee of this legacy, which he must use to the benefit of the place by means of its promotion, improvement, and protection in order that others, for many years to come, might enjoy the advantages.
Lastly, I constitute, make, and ordain Dr. C. E. Wellscott the sole executor of this, my last Will and Testament, and I do hereby utterly disallow and revoke all former testaments, legacies, and executors ratifying and confirming this and no other to be my last Will, in witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and seal, one thousand eight hundred and seventeen.
Signed, sealed, published, and delivered by the said Lady Elizabeth Grace Denham, as her last Will and Testament.
Can there be anything so shocking—so heartbreaking—to a fortune hunter as to see the coveted wealth given over to a good cause, a cause so decidedly removed from thoughts of luxury as would sicken a greedy heart? Esther Denham, who had always felt herself to be unsuited to the coast, opted for the sophistication of a house in town, preferring, what Mr. Parker rather harshly described as, “the filth of the Capital to the clean fresh purity of a seaside town.” Clara Brereton was to remain, so too Sir Edward Denham, despite the exposure of his character and the revelations surrounding him and his multitude of secret engagements. In truth, he ended up being publicly disgraced and reviled by anyone who, due to his deceptions, had fancied themselves betrothed to him. He did not marry Miss Lambe. She, much to Mrs. Griffiths’s delight, was later carried off by a widower of good fortune some fifteen years her senior whom she had met in Eastbourne. Miss Lambe (Mrs. Noble as she became) took on her husband’s children, riches, and house with a seemingly natural flair. Visits to Sanditon were rare although she did much to recommend the place as being one of the jewels of the Sussex coast in her way of talking about it to her new acquaintances.
Sir Edward Denham remained shameless. He had engaged in flirtations, seductions of multiples of women, telling each one who he was secretly engaged to that these outward displays of alternative interest would serve to conceal their alliance. His character, his reliance upon his personality and charm, afforded him a degree of acceptance. Word of his scurrilous conduct soon spread and in its way contributed to a healthy fluctuation in Sanditon’s business. Scandals are so well liked by society in general, any hint of drama or sensation is relished, it is comforting, for the flawless at least, to learn that others err, although quite why they are in need of such solace is something of an oddity. Mrs. Noble (née Lambe) eventually viewed Sir Edward Denham as little more than a comical figure, which, coupled with her new husband’s attentions to her, allowed her to recover far more quickly than Mrs. Griffiths had ever expected.
“For she always appeared such a frail thing, poor tender child, to think of her being victim to a seducer quite rattles me.”
With Mrs. Griffiths rattled, Miss Lambe settled, and the majority of the Sanditon residents in a general state of contentment it must not be overlooked that the Hollises, less grieved at their relation’s death than they were by their inconsequential legacies, left Sanditon promptly with no goodbyes. Nothing was made of their having ever been there at all, they took their portraits of poor Mr. Hollis, and were not ever heard of again.
One Miss Beaufort felt herself crossed, the other felt them both deceived, for William Hollis, in a rather ungentlemanlike manner, failed to honor either of them with a parting gesture.The unfortunate Miss Beauforts, who had made such a promising start with their bright smiles, coquettish giggles, and pretty clothes, had suffered somewhat in their being not so in the middle of things as their characters craved.To endure an entire summer only for it to end in dull frustration had left them less sparkling and more in need of flattery and flirtation than ever before.
Sir Edward, now reduced in circumstance, presented no noticeable signs of retrenchment. His less than respectable pecuniary condition meant that debts mounted rapidly and credit was offered less readily than it otherwise might have been. Still he maintained an air of extravagance, boasting of plans for a house in town and of intentions to go to Italy where, he claimed, “the poetic is never overlooked.” He kept himself to two rooms in Denham Place and took lodgers to bolster his income; thinking nothing of gambling what little extra he had at card tables. He could no longer bestow his attention on a young lady of any sense without inducing an element of caution in her heart. His intentions were thwarted by his character being known and the reduction of his circumstances.
The Miss Beauforts were different creatures altogether now; to secure interest of any sort from any type of man was their aspiration and the sisters, once again the object of Sir Edward Denham’s overt attentions, would soon regain a little of their glow.Was there ever to be a proposal of marriage it is certain that foolish hearts would be broken.There was little to choose between the sisters and little now to recommend a fallen Sir, as opposed to an elevated Mr., so the three were destined, for the remainder of that summer at least, to linger, dissatisfied and discouraged, in a flirtatious impasse and make their own kind of wildly inappropriate happiness.
/> CHAPTER 33
Arthur and Abigail, Charlotte and Sidney, Maisie and Dr.Wellscott all married in Sanditon and all remained there. There was something about the place, without a doubt.
Must every neighborhood have a great lady? Sanditon had thrived to a degree with one, but did so now far better without one. Lady Denham’s meanness had served Sanditon very well. Her legacy, albeit given in a spirit of posthumous retribution toward her family, did everything to lift the place. She became greater acknowledged in death than she had ever been in life. So much bad feeling could now be released. Lady Denham’s poor relations were free to openly despise her for her final neglect of them.
Mr. Parker decided against a monument but, unable to overlook the need for a memorial of some kind for Sanditon’s deceased patroness, deemed an annual garden party at Sanditon House to be the very thing. It was just the event to reel in visitors and such an appropriate way in which to celebrate the truly great difference the lady, not to mention her money, had made to the neighborhood. Mary Parker, who had always been a good deal more thoughtful than her husband, thought a garden party the most offensive form of tribute. “Poor Lady Denham’s decline began at a garden party,” she reminded her husband when the idea first sprang into his mind.“Would it not be imprudent, insensitive even, to commemorate her in such a way?”
Mrs. Parker, as usual, was ignored and carried with her very strong feelings of displeasure at the thought of the damage an annual garden party would do both to the lawns at Sanditon House and their, the Parkers’, reputations. People were sure, she convinced herself, to think the idea wholly inappropriate. She felt very impressed by the notion that Lady Denham’s spirit would be in a state of perpetual fainting unease at such an indignity.
Sanditon House itself, however, was to become something between an hotel and a place for convalescence. It was later to be renamed Waterloo Lodge which satisfied Mr. Parker’s longing to use the name. Overseen by Dr.Wellscott and his wife and generally managed by Diana Parker, it proved a most successful business. It is said that the Prince Regent stayed there in pursuit of a means to recover from the effects of overindulgence. Certainly the wine list for the period, written records of an entirely odd centerpiece (half water, half vegetation) and a handwritten note by the housekeeper (HRH requests 12 entrees for a midweek dinner) suggest that there is truth in the rumor.
Furthermore, Mrs. Wellscott, in her 1819 diary, observed that the Prince Regent was “just as Lamb has described him” and that the “monstrosity at Brighton” would “never be a public treasure, merely an embarrassing reminder of the excesses of its creator.” “Prinny,” as the droves of intimates who reportedly came to Sanditon to share his hospitality referred to him, was a wealthy, if unprincipled, guest. Thereby, Mr. Parker had succeeded in attracting the ton. Such visitors were not to be scoffed at; ladies, should they think themselves unequal to the sight of unclothed men seabathing, were advised to stay in their bathing machines, cover their eyes, or stay indoors. The wealthy, for all their eccentricities, were not to be discouraged on account of the sensibilities of the poor!
Mr.Woodcock, the keeper of the other hotel in the neighborhood, bore Waterloo Lodge no grudge. All the time it did not claim his business he was not inclined to resent its success. Moreover, he believed Waterloo Lodge promoted his own establishment. His regulars, those who could not afford the luxury of the Lodge, still came; so too did new faces.And these fresh visitors, either disappointed by Waterloo Lodge’s “No Vacancies, By Private Appointment Only” sign or unequal, financially, to securing rooms there would apply to Mr.Woodcock with every confidence of his receiving them with his customary politeness and warm welcome.
Waterloo Lodge’s favored and permanent guest, however, was one Mr. Stafford, formerly of Heddingham House, who, on the advice of the now retired Dr. Brown, came to Sanditon to live out his days. He was dutifully and lovingly attended by Dr. Wellscott’s good lady Jane, who saw to her patient’s every need with full-hearted compassion and genuine feelings of fondness. Old Mr. Stafford often thought, when the mists of his mind temporarily cleared, that he had seen young Mrs.Wellscott’s face before and this fleeting recognition was a comfort to him. He could not recall the night when the young chambermaid, quite dejected after a night in a cornfield, had discovered him by the roadside one Thursday morning. He had no memory of her accompanying him to London, no knowledge of her selling a fine piece of silver to a scoundrel for far less than it was really worth, and absolutely no idea that it was she who had placed him in the safe hands of Dr. Brown. It was never much talked about but it was generally known, in private Sanditon circles, that Mrs. Jane Wellscott had once been Maisie Granger, who had once been Jane Tailor.
Dr. Brown, whose retirement proved tolerable by his being made useful at Waterloo Lodge, only once spoke of Maisie’s story. He confessed that his part in her deception had been to send her, with his full recommendation, to Willingden Abbots. A colleague of Dr. Brown’s, a good doctor who was leaving the sanatorium to set up his own practice, agreed that Maisie would indeed make a fine assistant. Both were satisfied that she would make a good nurse. Dr. Brown’s confession was given, with Mrs. Jane Wellscott’s consent, to Charlotte Parker who, having had the greater part of the story in a letter could not settle until she had the rest. She had always been inquisitive, analytical, and there was nothing like an unsolved mystery to intrigue her.
CHAPTER 34
Lady Raynor’s search in Willingden Abbots for her chambermaid had come to nothing.The doctors’ practice had closed by the time she got there and the doctors and their nurse had departed.There was nothing to be done. One Dr. Kendall had gone away and no one in the neighborhood knew where Dr.Wellscott and his assistant had disappeared to. It was thought he had been destined for the North of England, but it could not be confirmed that he ever got there.
Her delight therefore on discovering, in a letter from Dr. Brown, that her dear little Jane was living in Sanditon, was immense. The letter, however, was scant in its detail. It was too much of general matters. Such brevity in correspondence was not to be accepted. How disappointing it is to pay the post only to find the chief of a letter taken up with the mundane. If one wanted particulars, one must find them out. To go to Sanditon became Lady Raynor’s new scheme. She was determined to take her daughter, Rosamunde, with her. Once she had persuaded her husband and rid him of his propensity for strictness with every firm assurance of caution, this plan was approved.
Edward Denham’s presence in Sanditon was not welcomed by the Raynors. On learning of his being there, Rosamunde made it clear she did not want to see him. He, likewise, had no desire to see her and he hid himself in the library, in his house, or in the drawing rooms of any young ladies who would have him whenever she was near. The avoidance was a success. Rosamunde Raynor and Sir Edward Denham only once laid eyes on each other and this was the cause of more pain to him that it was to her. Rosamunde Raynor cared not for Sir Edward now that she had the attentions of one Lieutenant Smith who, despite his love of life on the ocean, found himself quite steady and satisfied with love on dry land.The thought of setting sail in the spring now held less promise for him.
When blue shoes were no longer the fashion, Mr. Heeley proved his acumen by producing slippers of different colors and boots of every style in every material. Mrs. Whitby’s library prospered and her visitor list increased with each year that passed. She ensured enough of the Romantics filled her shelves and Edward Denham (the “Sir” so little suits him now that we shall dispense with it) was often seen there seeking out an excerpt, looking for a particular line and generally aiming to improve his eligibility by means of increasing his romantic appeal.
Arthur Parker improved so dramatically in health that Diana and Susan quite despaired of him. “All the years we thought him afflicted! To think, sister,” said Diana, “that our whole lives were dedicated to his improvement to no avail. I do not resent the sacrifice, we did what we thought was right in the way of duty, bu
t you know I now think we must blame Arthur, and Arthur alone, for our spinster states. We have wasted ourselves and our best years are gone, Susan. But he is so boisterous now, so unlike himself, I find it hard to believe he was ever so unspirited. It does seem, does it not, that his ailments were all in his mind.”
Thank Heaven for Waterloo Lodge and its visitors. By this new venture the Parker sisters, completely resigned to ending old maids as Arthur had taken up the whole of their youth, kept occupied. There was a new Arthur to be seen to every week. And in the winter months, when the frail or antisocial sought to escape the dirt of London or the madness of the season, they found themselves permanently engaged, ordering hot milk possets and other restoratives. Each sister delighted in complaining, with the vigor of persons far more healthy than they would admit to being, that they felt themselves very poorly used indeed.
Arthur, now free of both his ailments and his zealous sisters’ attentions, lost his inclination to be sickly along with the greater part of his appetite.Abigail Parker was no fusser.Arthur would have green tea if she served it and Arthur would live. Arthur’s right side would not be stricken, numbed, or immobilized. Arthur, in truth, had never in his life stopped to think that he might be anything other than sick, but with a wife, and the fresh Sanditon air to uphold him he was never to look at a leech again. And, as for buttered toast, his penchant there remained unshakeable. Arthur Parker also discovered the joy of seabathing but was instructed by his wife, with the harshest of penalties threatened, that he must remain clothed in the water whatever the fashion dictated. In this, he was, thankfully, inclined to obedience.