Rebecca Stubbs: The Vicar's Daughter by Hannah Buckland Read Free Book Online

but inept attempts at dressing, soothing, and feeding her offspring were greeted with sighs and tuts from the experienced nanny; Ma’am soon realised her presence was not welcome in the nursery, so in order to keep the peace, she reluctantly retreated. The girls had spent many happy hours in the kitchen, playing in the sinks or licking bowls or in the servants’ hall playing games with the houseboy, who was only a few years older. But as they grew older, they “put away childish things.” The very people who had often given them piggy-back rides or kissed their grazed knees were now treated with disdain and aloofness.
    I did not meet the two sons until the summer vacation, as they were termly boarders at a respectable and costly private school. Master Charles and Master Bernard were lively lads who shared their father’s love of outdoor pursuits. They had more of their mother’s mild temperament than their father would have liked, but he did his best to toughen them up. At the ages of twelve and ten, they were still not above visiting us below stairs and would proudly bring pheasants they had shot or fish they had caught for our inspection and admiration. In return, they were rewarded with freshly baked biscuits or treats.
    The Davenports were also wards of an orphan son of Ma’am’s late sister. For the last eight years, Mr. Davenport had been the reluctant guardian of this unfortunate boy who had lost his mother to consumption and his father in a railroad disaster. Master Edward Thorpe had been given the same opportunities as the other children in the household, but he was taught that he was slightly below them in rank. He was always to show gratitude and humility for being allowed the honour of living in their house. Mrs. Davenport was incapable of expressing her love, even to her own offspring, so she was unable to comfort the grieving boy she hardly knew. Master Edward found a mother figure in the governess and was the darling of all the staff. Master Edward was now at Oxford University studying law, being of the lower ranks that have to live by the sweat of their brow. Once again, I did not meet Master Edward until his vacation.
    The whole Davenport family was privileged with all that wealth and influence could provide, but the head of the house did nothing for their spiritual well-being, apart from insisting all attend the Sunday morning service at the local church. From one Sunday morning to another, not a word or deed would indicate that the family had any concern for their eternal welfare or that of their staff. In many big houses, there would be a time of daily prayers that all the household would be expected to attend, but nothing like that occurred at Barton Manor. I enjoyed the company of my fellow servants and, on the whole, they were a decent and honest team, but I lacked true Christian companionship. No one else seemed to understand that Christianity was a living, personal relationship with the Saviour rather than a vague assent to the Apostles’ Creed.
    This lack of understanding was surprising, as the preaching of the vicar, Reverend Penfold, was clear and biblical. He did not hesitate to preach “the whole council of God,” warning of sin, judgment, and eternal damnation and then recommending Christ, His work, and perfect sacrifice. He presented Christ as a most suitable and willing Saviour, one who was truly God and truly man. He showed believers their security in Christ, based on His great promises, faithful love, and limitless power. He encouraged believers to look to Christ for assurance rather than for certain emotions in their own fickle hearts.
    I found Reverend Penfold’s sermons of great comfort and encouragement. When I considered the privilege of being in Christ, I would not swap my place with the richest person in England. I was sad to see my fellow servants and the family sit through powerful sermon after powerful sermon, week after week, with no apparent impression being