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Updated: June 11, 2025
One is that one likes to know where such gifts come from, and the other is that for a party of children to go away alone, with only Kink, is a great responsibility." "It's a risk you must take," said Uncle Chris. "Don't anticipate trouble." "Because," Mrs. Avory went on, "I should not go with them, although I might arrange to meet them here and there on their journey.
Wrottesley replied, 'I want to be reasonable; and she told him the whole story of how her presence might save from very serious consequences two people who were admittedly not very wise, but who were certainly nothing more than foolish, and might prevent a scandal which would damage them in the eyes of the world and result in all sorts of trouble for Mrs. Avory.
The years between boyhood and manhood had been bridged over by a sense that some one needed his care, and that he was a protection to a little woman who was weak and unhappy. And, whether it was love or not, the thing was honourable and straightforward as an English boy can make it. And then one night by the late post had come a letter from Horace Avory of a kind particularly calculated to wound.
He was warned by a curious presentiment that the information which he had received was in accordance with facts, and, being always ready with a word of counsel, Canon Wrottesley was writing to his wife to warn her that until the whole thing blew over it would be wiser for her not to see anything of Mrs. Avory.
Her unusual behaviour accounts for the fact that her letter arrived by the second post at Hulworth; Canon Wrottesley was so much upset at the time that he read half-way through it before he quite realized what it was about. 'MY DEAR CANON, it ran 'you must allow me to say what I think of your splendid conduct in regard to poor little Mrs. Avory.
My horse's name is Pencil. I came here from Banbury, and I am making slowly for Cropthorne. Now tell me all about yourselves. Tell me in the order of age." The children looked at each other, and laughed. "You first," said Mr. MacAngus, again to Janet; "you're the eldest, I can see." "My name," said Janet, "is Janet Avory. I live in Chiswick. Our caravan is the Slowcoach.
He's a careful and very capable old sport, and Janet's as good a mother as you any day." Mrs. Avory laughed. "Yes, I know that," she said. "But what about gypsies and tramps?" "One has always got to take a few chances," said Uncle Christopher. "They may get things stolen now and then from the outside of the caravan, but I should doubt if anything else happened.
Collins was the cook, a fat, smiling, hot lady of about fifty, who had been with Mrs. Avory ever since she married. Collins understood children thoroughly, and made cakes that were rather wet underneath. Collins collected picture postcards and adored the family. She had never been cross to any of them, but her way with the butcher's boy and the grocer's boy and the fishmonger's boy was terrible.
"Collins, what's the best part of beef for stewing?" "Collins, you can put anything into a stew, can't you? Absolutely anything?" "Collins, if you've put too much pepper into a thing, is there any way of getting it out again?" Mrs. Avory was very particular about tinned things.
Toffy had a Bradshaw twelve months old which he promised to consult if Mrs. Avory would walk back with him across the fields again to the house. He consoled her as best he could, and assured her that it would be all right. And Mrs.
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