Hello there,
It's Mandy here.
Thanks for joining me tonight and welcome back to Diary of a Provincial Lady by E.
M.
Delafield.
This book has never been out of print.
It also inspired several sequels chronicling later portions of Delafield's life.
They are The Provincial Lady Goes Further,
The Provincial Lady in America,
Which might be an interesting one,
And The Provincial Lady in Wartime.
In fact,
In 1961,
Delafield's daughter,
Rosamund Dashwood,
Published Provincial Daughter,
A semi-autobiographical account of her own experiences of domesticated life in the 1950s.
So,
We've reached Chapter 17 and before I go ahead,
Please make yourself really comfortable settling down into your chair or your bed,
Relaxing your hands,
Releasing your shoulders,
And softening your jaw.
That's great.
So,
If you're ready,
Then I shall begin.
Chapter 17.
March the 28th.
Read admirable,
But profoundly discouraging,
Article in Time and Time Again.
Relating to Bernard Shaw's women,
But applying to most of us.
Realize,
Not for the first time,
That intelligent women can perhaps best perform their duty towards their own sex by devastating process of telling them the truth about themselves.
At the same time,
Cannot feel that I shall really enjoy hearing it.
Ultimate paragraph of article,
Moreover,
Continues to haunt me most unpleasantly,
With reference to own undoubted vulnerability,
Where Robin and Vicki are concerned.
Have very often wondered if mothers are not rather a mistake altogether,
And now definitely come to the conclusion that they are.
Interesting speculation as to how they might best be replaced.
Interrupted by necessity of seeing that Fitz is turning out spare bedroom,
According to instructions.
I'm unspeakably disgusted at finding him sitting in spare room armchair with feet on the windowsill.
He says he is not feeling very well.
I'm much more taken aback than he is,
And lose my head to the extent of replying,
Then go and be it in your own room.
Realize afterwards that this might have been better worded.
April the 2nd,
Barbara calls.
Can she,
She says,
Speak to me in confidence.
I assure her that she can,
And at once put Helen Wills and kitten out of the window,
In order to establish confidential atmosphere.
Sit,
Seething with excitement,
In the hope that I am at least to be told that Barbara is engaged.
Try to keep this out of sight,
And to maintain expression of earnest and sympathetic attention only.
While Barbara says that it's sometimes very difficult to know which way duty lies,
That she has always thought a woman's highest vocation is homemaking,
And that the love of a good man is the crown of life.
I say,
Yes,
Yes,
To all of this.
Discover,
On thinking it over,
That I do not agree with any of it,
And am shocked at my own extraordinary duplicity.
Barbara,
At length,
Admits that Crosby has asked her to marry him.
He did it,
She says,
At the zoo,
And go out with him as his wife to the Himalayas.
This,
Says Barbara,
Is where all becomes difficult.
She may be old-fashioned,
No doubt she is,
But can she leave her mother alone?
No,
She cannot.
Can she,
On the other hand,
Give up dear Crosby,
Who has never loved a girl before,
And says he never will again?
No,
She cannot.
Barbara weeps.
I kiss her.
Howard Fitzsimmons selects this moment to walk in with the tea,
At which I sit down again in confusion,
And begin to talk about the vicarage daffodils being earlier than ours,
Just as Barbara launches into the verdict in the Podmore case.
We gyrate uneasily in and out of these topics,
While Howard Fitzsimmons completes his preparations for tea.
Atmosphere ruined,
And destruction completed by my own necessary inquiries as to Barbara's wishes in the matter of milk,
Sugar,
Bread and butter and so on.
Memo must speak to Cook about sending in my new segment of sponge cake,
Remains of one which,
To my certain recollection,
Made its first appearance more than ten days ago.
Also,
Why perpetual and unappetizing procession of small rock cakes?
Robert comes in.
Talks of swine fever.
All further confidences become impossible.
Barbara takes her leave immediately after tea,
Only asking if I could look in on her mother and have a little talk.
I reluctantly agree to do so,
And she mounts her bicycle and rides off.
Robert says,
That girl holds herself well,
But it's a pity she has those ankles.
April the 4th Go to see old Mrs Blankensop.
She is,
As usual,
Swathed in shawls,
But has exchanged Lord Beaconsfield for Frood and Carlyle.
She says that I am very good to come and see a poor old woman,
And that she often wonders how it is that so many of the younger generation seem to find their way to her by instinct.
Is it,
She suggests,
Because her heart has somehow kept young,
In spite of her grey hair and wrinkles?
And so she has always been able to find the silver lining,
She is thankful to say.
I circuitously approach the topic of Barbara.
Mrs Beat once says that the young are very hard and selfish.
This is natural,
Perhaps,
But it saddens her.
Not on her own account,
Oh no,
But because she cannot bear to think of what Barbara will have to suffer from remorse when it is too late.
Feel a strong inclination to point out that this is not finding the silver lining,
But refrain.
Long monologue from old Mrs B follows.
Main points that emerge are A.
That Mrs B has not got very many more years to spend among us.
B.
That all her life has been given up to others,
But that she deserves no credit for this,
As it is just the way she is made.
C.
That all she wants is to see her Barbara happy,
And it matters nothing at all that she herself should be left alone and helpless in her old age,
And no one is to give it a thought for a moment.
Finally,
That it has never been her way to think of herself or her own feelings.
People have often said to her they believe she has no self,
Simply none at all.
Pause,
Which I do not attempt to fill,
Ensues.
We return to the subject of Barbara,
And Mrs B says it is very natural that a girl should be wrapped up in her own little concerns.
I feel we are getting no further,
And boldly introduce the name of Crosby Carothers.
Terrific effect on Mrs B,
Who puts her hand on her heart,
Leans back and begins to gasp and turn blue.
She is sorry,
She pants,
To be so foolish,
But it now is many nights since she has had any sleep at all,
And the strain is beginning to tell.
I must forgive her,
I hastily do forgive her,
And depart.
Very,
Very unsatisfactory interview.
I am told,
On my way home,
By Mrs S of the Cross and Keys,
That a gentleman is staying there who is said to be engaged to Miss Blenkinsop,
But the old lady won't hear of it,
And he seems such a nice gentleman too,
Though perhaps not quite as young as some,
And do I think the Himalayas would be all right if there was a baby coming along?
Exchange speculations and comments with Mrs S for some time,
Before recollecting that the whole thing is supposed to be private,
And that in any case,
Gossip is undesirable.
I am met at home by Mademoiselle,
With intelligent inquiry as to the prospects of Miss Blenkinsop's immediate marriage,
And the attitude adopted by old Mrs B.
Even the infant Vicky suddenly demands if that gentleman at the Cross and Keys is really Miss Blenkinsop's true love.
At this,
Mademoiselle screams and is much upset,
At the impropriety of Vicky's language.
Even Robert inquires what all this is about Barbara Blenkinsop.
I explain,
And he returns very,
Very briefly,
That old Mrs Blenkinsop ought to be shot,
Which gets us no further,
But meets with my entire approval.
April the 10th,
Entire parish now seething with the affair Blenkinsop.
Old Mrs B.
Falls ill and retires to bed.
Barbara bicycles madly up and down between her mother and the garden of the Cross and Keys,
Where C.
C.
Spends much time reading copies of the Times of India and smoking small cigars.
We are all asked by Barbara what she ought to do,
And all give different advice.
Deadlock appears to have been reached,
When C.
C.
Suddenly announces that he is summoned to London and must have an answer one way or the other immediately.
Old Mrs B.
,
Who has been getting better and taking port,
Instantly gets worse again and says she will not long stand in the way of dear Barbara's happiness.
Period of fearful stress sets in,
And Barbara and C.
C.
Say goodbye in the front sitting room of the Cross and Keys.
They have,
Says Barbara in tears,
Parted forever and life is over,
And will I take the guides meeting for her tonight,
Which I agree to do.
To be continued.
