Page 187 of The Sisters of Sea View
36
The bride was elegantly dressed; the two bridesmaids were duly inferior; her father gave her away; her mother stood with salts in her hand, expecting to be agitated.
—Jane Austen,Mansfield Park
The next day, Sarah gathered her thoughts and went to talk to Mr. Gwilt. She found him on the veranda, Parry perched on a nearby chair. She sat on his other side, feeling unaccountably nervous.
“Beautiful day, Miss Sarah, is it not?” He glanced at her and then took a deep breath of fresh sea air. “I loves it here, I do.”
“I am glad.”
Twisting her hands in her apron, she began, “Mr. Gwilt, my family and I have been discussing your situation. And we don’t want you to deplete your savings by staying here and paying guest-house rates.”
His face creased in a sad smile. “If you don’t want us here, then of course, we shall go.”
“No, no. You misunderstand me. We are all happy for you to stay. We were only wondering if you might be willing to work for us in exchange for room and board? You mentioned you’ve beena clerk and bookkeeper, and I could certainly use help in those areas.”
His small eyes brightened. “Are you in earnest?”
She added quickly, “I should make it clear this would not be an all-day job, nor can we afford to pay regular wages. Although that is a possibility for the future, if we are successful here. I’m afraid we would have to add other tasks as well, like carrying trunks and bathwater and that sort of thing. Lowen is getting older, so we could use another man around the place. However, I have no wish to offend you, if that seems—”
“Offend me? Not in the least. You honor me. That you would put your trust in me, well ... I am nearly as speechless as Parry.”
Tentatively, she asked, “You would not deem such manual work beneath you?”
“Miss Sarah. If I ever had such unwarranted pride, it has long been driven from me. I would find it a pleasure to serve your family and your guests.”
She bit her lip. “We would probably have to ask you to move to a different room. There is a spare room belowstairs—originally meant for a butler—and several small rooms in the attic.”
He shook his head. “Wouldn’t dream of intruding on Miss Georgiana’s privacy, but if the folks belowstairs would not mind an addition to their number, then that would suit us fine. I would warn Parry to keep the noise down, never fear.” He winked.
Sarah remained serious. Better to address all of the uncomfortable topics ahead of time so he would know what he was agreeing to. “About Parry...” She glanced at the bird and felt a stab of guilt. “He would certainly be welcome in your room, but we would have to ask that he stay there, at least when you’re working.”
“Right you are, Miss Sarah. I understand. Never fear, I will explain to him, I will.”
Sarah exhaled in relief. “Good. Well. We can iron out the particulars later.”
The following week, Mamma handed Sarah a large, flat parcel.
“What’s this?” Sarah asked.
“It’s for you—well, for all of us, really, but I wanted you to see it first. Go on.”
Sarah peeled the wrapping from the rectangular box and lifted the lid.
Nestled in tissue lay the china plate rimmed in gold. The heirloom she had broken, with the colorful image of three young girls in Chinese robes, clustered close as a fourth read to them. The gift from their father.
It had somehow been put back together, though faint lines from the repaired cracks were visible if one looked close. Yet it was, again, in one piece.
“How did you manage this?” Sarah asked. “I had given up. It seemed hopeless to me—too badly broken.”
“Oh, you know Miss Stirling,” Mamma replied. “She knew ‘the very person.’”
“Ah. Of course she did.”
Her mother traced her finger over one of the repairs. “I know it’s not perfect. You can see where a few original pieces are still missing, filled in and repainted as best as he could.”
Sarah studied the plate once more. The replacement pieces fashioned by the expert craftsman were fitted precisely into place, lending a beauty of their own.
