Wigs on the Green by Nancy Mitford Read Free Book Online

prize Jersey cows. He was no longer in love with Anne-Marie, but still took her at her own valuation, was proud of her beauty, and considered that she was the very glass of fashion and the mould of form. This did not, however, ensure him making the requisite allowances for her artistic temperament, often he irritated her profoundly when she was in one of her moods, by saying, ‘Don’t be ratty, old girl,’ and stumping off to his cowsheds. She would long on such occasions to pay him back with secret infidelities, but the Rackenbridge young men, whilst only too ready to profess undying love for her, were idle fellows and never seemed to contemplate adultery.
    As a result, little Caroline and little Romola both had tow-coloured hair, moon-shaped faces, and pale-blue eyes like the Major, and were, like him, stolid unimaginative personalities. They were a great disappointment to their mother.
    As soon as Mrs Lace heard, by means of Major Lace’s old governess who lived in one of his cottages and was a great gossip, that four people, all of them quite young, had come to stay at the Jolly Roger, she nipped round to have a look at the visitors’ book. The Jolly Roger was in many ways rather superior to the ordinary village inn, it had a reputation for good English cooking, cleanliness, and an adequate cellar, and was for this reason visited every now and then by quite notable people. Authors, actors, antiquarians, and distinguished members of various professions came there, and their names were treasured by Mr Birk, the landlord, but although Anne-Marie always kept an eye on the book, she found that the guests were usually too old, or their visits too short for them to be of much use to her. Today the signatures seemed more promising. It is true that she had never heard either of Noel Foster or of the Rickmansworth sybarites; on the other hand Jasper Aspect’s name was a name with which she was acquainted. She instantly planned to go home and change her clothes which were at present of the Paris-Plage variety. Mr Aspect, a well-known figure in society circles, was probably tired of sophistication and would be more likely to take an interest in simplicity and rural charm. Her Austrian-Tyrolean peasant’s dress would meet the case exactly. Delighted with the subtlety of this reasoning she hurried away in the direction of Comberry. On the village green, however, she met Noel, decided to waste no time, and weighed-in with an old conversational gambit.
    ‘Excuse me,’ she said, ‘have you seen two rather sweet children in a donkey-cart?’
    Noel had not. This was to have been expected, considering that, as Mrs Lace very well knew, the said children were at home playing in the garden, where they had been all day.
    ‘Oh! the monkeys,’ she continued playfully, ‘you can’t imagine how frightening it is to have a family. They do most awfully unnerving things. Where in the world can
les petites méchancetés
have got to now?’
    And she flapped her eyelids at Noel, who remarked, as indeed he was meant to, that she did not look old enough to have a family
    ‘Me? I’m terribly old. Actually I was married more or less out of the nursery.’ She sighed, and opening her eyes to their full extent she looked at the ground. Poor kid, poor exquisite little creature, trapped into the drudgery of marriage before she knew anything about life and love. Noel’s most chivalrous instincts were aroused, he thought her extremely beautiful, far more to his taste than Miss Smith, Miss Jones, or Eugenia. He felt thankful that, for once, Jasper was nowhere about.
    ‘Who are you?’ asked Mrs Lace prettily. ‘Perhaps you were dropped by magic on to our village green. Anyway, I hope you won’t vanish again into a little puff of smoke.
Espérons que non
. Promise you won’t do that.’
    Noel promised. He then went back with her to Comberry Manor, where he was given cowslip wine, and told a very great deal about Mrs Lace.
    She was happily married,