Diary Of A Provincial Lady, Chapter 18

Diary of a Provincial Lady, published nearly a hundred years ago by E M Delafield, is a direct ancestor of Bridget Jones' Diary. In tonight's episode, Barbara Blenkinsop's engagement, which was very definitely off, becomes very definitely on again. The entire village is involved.

This gentle story of the daily ups and downs of domestic life has been compared with George Grossmith's Diary of a Nobody, also available narrated by me in Free Tracks.

If you would like to listen to the tracks seamlessly, please download the playlist, to which tracks are added as they are published here.

For more diary-style humor, do also try Ted the Shed, narrated by me in Free Tracks.

Transcript

Hello,

It's Mandy here.

Welcome back to Diary of a Provincial Lady by E.

M.

Delafield,

And thanks for joining me tonight for chapter 18.

Delafield was a respected and prolific author of middle-brow fiction in her day,

Along with writers like Angela Thirkell and Agatha Christie.

Of her novels,

Only the Provincial Lady series achieved wide commercial success,

But her contributions to magazines such as Time and Tide and Punch,

Which published over 400 of her pieces,

Gained her great fame in the UK.

She was also popular in the US and went on two successful speaking tours there in the 1930s.

Before I go ahead,

Please feel free to make yourself really comfortable.

Settle down into your chair or your bed,

Relax your hands,

Loosen your shoulders,

And soften your jaw.

That's better.

So if you're sitting comfortably,

Then I shall begin.

April the 12th.

Return of Robin for the holidays.

He has a cold and,

As usual,

Is short on handkerchiefs.

I write to the matron about this,

But have no slightest hope of receiving either handkerchiefs or rational explanation of their disappearance.

Robin mentions that he has invited a boy to come and stay for a week.

I ask,

Is he very nice and a great friend of yours?

Oh no,

Says Robin,

He is one of the most unpopular boys in the school.

And after a moment,

He adds,

That's why.

I'm touched and think this denotes a generous spirit,

But I'm also undeniably rather apprehensive as to possible characteristics of future guests.

I repeat the story to mademoiselle who,

As usual when I praise Robin,

At once remarks,

Madame,

Your little Vicky has no faults,

Which is neither true nor relevant.

Receive a letter from Mary Kay with postscript.

Is it true that Barbara Blenkinsop is engaged to be married?

And I'm also asked the same question by Lady B,

Who looks in on her way to some duke or function on the other side of the county.

Have no time in which to enjoy being in the superior position of bestowing information,

As Lady B at once adds that she always advises girls to marry no matter what the man is like,

As any husband is better than none,

And there are not nearly enough to go round.

I immediately refer to Rose's collection of distinguished feminists,

Giving her to understand that I know them all well and intimately,

And have frequently discussed the subject with them.

Lady B waves her hand,

In elegant white kid,

New,

Not cleaned,

And declares,

That may be all very well,

But if they could have got husbands they wouldn't be feminists.

I instantly assert that all have had husbands,

And some two or three.

This may or may not be true,

But of seldom known stronger homicidal impulse.

Final straw is added when Lady B amiably observes that I at least have nothing to complain of,

As she always thinks Robert such a safe respectable husband for any woman.

Give her briefly to understand that Robert is in reality a compound of Don Juan,

The Marquis de Sade and Dr.

Crippen,

But that we do not care to let it be known locally.

Cannot say whether she is or is not impressed by this,

As she declares herself obliged to go because ducal function cannot begin without her.

All I can think of is to retort that duchesses,

Of whom in actual fact I do not know any,

Always remind me of Alice in Wonderland,

As do white kid gloves of the white rabbit.

Lady B replies,

I am always so well read,

And Carr moves off,

Leaving her with,

As usual,

The last word.

Evolve in my own mind merry fantasy,

In which members of the royal family visit the neighbourhood and honour Robert and myself by becoming our guests at luncheon.

Cannot quite fit Howard Fitzsimmons into this scheme,

But gloss over that aspect of the case.

Robert has just been raised to the peerage and I am,

With a slight and gracious inclination of the head,

Taking precedence of Lady B at large dinner party,

When Vicki comes in to say the scissor grinder is at the door and if we haven't anything to grind he'll be pleased to attend to the clocks or rivet any china.

I'm disconcerted at finding itinerant gypsy of particularly low appearance encamped at back door,

With collection of domestic articles strewn all around him and his machine.

Still more disconcerted at appearance of mademoiselle in fits of loud and regrettable gallic merriment,

Bearing extremely unsuitable fragments of bedroom ware in either hand.

She,

Vicki and the scissor grinder join in unseemly mirth and I leave them to it,

Thankful that at least Lady B is by now well on her way and cannot descend upon the scene.

I'm seriously exercised in my mind as to probable standard of humour with which Vicki will grow up.

Look for Robin and eventually find him with the cat,

Shut up into totally unventilated linen cupboard,

Eating cheese which he says he found on the back stairs.

Undoubtedly a certain irony can be found in the fact that I have recently been appointed to new guardians committee and am expected to visit workhouse etc with particular reference to children's quarters in order that I may offer valuable suggestions on questions of hygiene and general welfare of inmates.

Can only hope that fellow members of the committee will never be inspired to submit my own domestic arrangements to similar inspection.

Right letters,

Much interrupted by Helen Wills wanting to be let out,

Kitten wanting to be let in and dear Robin who climbs all over all the furniture,

Apparently unconscious that he is doing so and tells me at the same time loudly and in full the story of the Swiss family Robinson.

April the 14th.

Cook electrifies me by asking me if I have heard that Miss Barbara Blenkinsop's engagement is on again,

It's all over the village.

The gentleman she says came down by the 8.

45 last night and is at the Cross and Keys.

As it is exactly 9.

15am when she tells me this I ask how she knows.

Cook merely repeats it is all over the village and that Miss Barbara will quite as like as not be married by special license and old Mrs B is in such a way as never was.

I'm disconcerted to find that Cook and I have been talking our heads off for the better part of 40 minutes before I remember that gossip is both undignified and undesirable.

Just as I'm putting on my hat to go down to the Blenkinsop's our Vicar's wife rushes in.

All is true she says and more.

Cross speaker others in altogether desperate state has threatened and written terrific farewell letter to Barbara who has cried herself as our Vicar's wife rather strangely expresses it to the merest pulp and begged him to come at once.

A Blenkinsop family council has been summoned.

Old Mrs B has had attacks nobody quite knows what of but has finally been persuaded to reconsider entire problem.

Our Vicar has been called in to give impartial advice and consolation to all parties.

He is there now.

Surely I urge he will use all his influence on behalf of CC and Barbara.

Our Vicar's wife agitated says yes yes he is all in favor of young folk living their own lives whilst at the same time he feels a mother's claims are sacred and although he realizes the full beauty of self-sacrifice yet on the other hand no one knows better than he does that the devotion of a good man is not to be lightly relinquished.

Feel that if this is to be our Vicar's only contribution toward the solution of the problem he might just as well have stayed at home but naturally do not impart this opinion to his wife.

We decide to walk down to the village and do so.

The gardener stops me on the way and says he thought I might like to know that Miss Barbara's young gentleman has turned up again and wants to marry her before he sails next month and old Mrs Blenkinsop is taking on so they think she'll have a stroke.

Similar information also reaches us from six different quarters in the village.

No less than three motor cars and two bicycles are to be seen outside old Mrs B's cottage but no one emerges and I'm obliged to suggest that our Vicar's wife should come home with me to lunch.

This she does after many demurs and gets cottage pie,

Too much onion,

Rice shape and stewed prunes.

Should have sent to the farm for cream if I'd known.

April the 15th old Mrs Blenkinsop reported to have come round.

Elderly unmarried female Blenkinsop,

Referred to as Cousin Maud,

Has suddenly materialised and offered to live with her.

Our Vicar has come out boldly in support of this scheme and Crosby Carruthers has given Barbara engagement ring with three stones said to be rare Indian topazes and has gone up to town to make arrangements.

Immediate announcement in the morning post expected.

April 18th.

Received visit from Barbara who begs that I will escort her to London for quiet and immediate wedding.

I'm obliged to refuse owing to bad colds of Robin and Vicky,

General instability of domestic staff and customary unsatisfactory financial situation.

Offer then passed on to our Vicar's wife who at once accepts it.

I undertake however at Barbara's urgent request to look in as often as possible on her mother.

Will I,

Adds Barbara,

Make it clear that she is not losing a daughter but only gaining a son and two years will soon be over and at the end of that time dear Crosby will bring her home to England.

I recklessly commit myself to doing anything and everything and write to the army and navy stores for a luncheon basket to give as wedding present to Barbara.

The girl guides present her with a sugar caster and a waste paper basket embossed with raffia flowers.

Lady B sends a chafing dish with a card bearing illegible and far-fetched joke connected with Indian curries.

We all agree that this is not in the least amusing.

Mademoiselle causes Vicky to present Barbara with small tray cloth on which two hearts are worked in cross-stitch.

To be continued.

Reviews

Oh, the Life and times… hilariously wrought 🤭 thank you, Mandy!✨🙏🏼✨

Such fun to hear how quickly the village gossip gets around. And chuckled at our narrator’s reference to her “ homicidal impulse” regarding Lady B. Thanks Mandy 🙏🏻

“Middle Brow” stuck with me. A phrase that makes perfect sense and yet I never heard spoke before 😊I wonder if my mother or grandmothers ever read this series. 🤔 Thanks Mandy for another fun chapter!