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Updated: May 18, 2025
So he sat down at last. "Well," said Mrs. Prockter, "I'm not sorry she isn't. But if she had been I should have spoken just the same not to her, but to you. Now, Mr. Ollerenshaw, I think you and I are rather alike in some things. I hate beating about the bush, and I imagine that you do." He was flattered. And he was perfectly eased by her tone. She was a woman to whom you could talk sense.
For the realism of those foaming waves had always struck James as the final miracle of art. And, moreover, this was the first time that any of Helen's haughty "set" had ever deigned to recognise the merits of the ship and ocean. "Where shouldst hang it, Master Prockter?" James genially asked. "Hang it, uncle?" exclaimed Helen. "Are you going to hang it?
Can I go up and talk sense to him? He's just like a child, you know." "Let me take you up," cried Helen. And the two women ascended the grand staircase. It was the first time the grand staircase had been used with becoming dignity since Mrs. Prockter had used it on her visit of inspection. That staircase and Mrs. Prockter were made for each other.
The truth was that James never had a moment's peace of mind with Helen. She was continually proving that as a student in the University of Human Nature he had not even matriculated. Georgiana appeared with an odd cup and saucer, and a giggling statement that she had not been able to discover any more teaspoons. "Never mind," said Helen. "Mr. Prockter shall have mine."
Prockter looked at him. "Men are trying creatures!" she said. "So it seems you can't tell a tarradiddle for me?" And she sighed. "I don't know as I object to that. What I object to is contradicting mysen." "Why did you bring Helen?" Mrs. Prockter demanded. "I didna'. She come hersen." They exchanged glances. "And now she and Emanuel have run off."
Prockter at once that you were entirely in error, and that she is on no account to breathe a word about me to any one. Whatever you were both thinking of I cannot imagine! But I can assure you I'm extremely annoyed. Mrs. Prockter putting her finger in the pie!... Let her take care that I don't put my finger into her pie! I always knew she was a gossiping old thing, but, really " "Mr. Ollerenshaw!"
You misunderstood me, though I'm surprised that you should have done. Perhaps I was a little excited this afternoon. Certainly you were thinking about other things. I expect you were expecting Mrs. Prockter this evening. It would have been nicer of you to have told me she was coming." "Now, please let it be clearly understood," she swept on. "You must go down and tell Mrs.
She argued, with a sure feminine instinct and a large experience of mankind, that if he could only be dodged into tacitly accepting the new scale for even a single meal, her task would be very much simplified. And what an ally Mrs. Prockter would be! "Tell cook there will be three to dinner," she said to the page, who fled gleefully. After a protracted interval Mrs. Prockter reappeared.
The strangest thing, perhaps, in all this strange history is that he thought the name suited her. He had no intention of accepting the invitation. Not exactly! But he enjoyed receiving it. It constituted a unique event in his career. And the wording of it was very agreeable. Mrs. Prockter proceeded thus: "In pursuance of our plan" our plan! "I am also inviting your niece.
Emanuel Prockter, clad in triumph, approached, and questioned James, as one shrewd man of business may question another, concerning the value in the market of Wilbraham Hall. Shortly afterwards a remarkable occurrence added zest to the party. Helen had wandered away with Sarah and Jos Swetnam.
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