for writers and readers….
Mrs Finnegan has discovered a pack of letters at the back of the KITCHEN dresser and cannot account for how they got there, but has now issued SWIFT replies to all those NEEDING advice (a selection are published below). Well known as the sage of the working class, Mrs Finnegan regrets that she is ONLY able to offer guidance when not OCCUPIED with her duties as Housekeeper of The Regency Town House.
Should I Escape to the Country?
My goodness, no! Everyone knows everyone else in the countryside. If you need to escape, go to the City.
I’m always Hunting for Bargains. Are you, Madam?
No. Bargains often prove to be mistakes. I am ALWAYS looking for good markets with dependable traders who occupy the SAME pitch week after week.
I sometimes feel life is Pointless. Do you know what I mean?
Yes, all intelligent people do at SOME time or other. Keeping busy is the ANSWER and knitting socks is a useful occupation for everyone.
The Mistress has found a new HOME for her diary under the washstand and I think I’ll let her tell you what’s been happening this week as my wrist is ACHING from a prodigious amount of letter writing and associated quill work
I confess I am at a loss as to what to do.
Mrs Finnegan has enquired the name of the father of Susan’s child and was brushed off . Susan absolutely will not divulge the secret and has threatened to leave me if any further enquiries are made. What cheek! In any event, Mrs Finnegan’s efforts have come to nothing , and in this I must believe her (although she has proved herself untrustworthy on other matters).
Is this what they call being damned with FAINT praise? I think so. But I’ll let the Mistress carry on. I won’t interrupt again. My wrist needs the rest.
The thought occures to me that I should tell Thomson Jr of my fears. I have just heard that he has business in London (praise the Lord) and must attend to it before he comes here. He is most apologetic. What a dear son, I dote on him.
We were cooking and cleaning in preparation for his visit all day and most of the night – she didn’t tell us he wasn’t coming till nigh on midnight, but I digress. Back to Mrs Hankey
Another thought has occurred to me.
This child of Susan’s may not be the progeny of my son, but of my husband!
I am sure that Thomson Jr has enjoyed the occasional peccadillo, but he is ambitious and would be very careful to cover his tracks. Not so, my ailing, drunken, wayward and increasingly led-astray husband.
So I resolve to write to Thomson Jr at his London address with a very full description of Susan and the child and ask him to be completely honest. If he recognises her I will warn him not to come here. If he does not, I shall welcome him with a very warm heart and open arms.
I may have to confront Thomson Sr which will be very difficult since it has been many years since he was honest and straightforward in any of his replies to me. It is possible, of course, that he might simply deny the whole affair. I may never know the truth.
I NEVER thought I would write these words, but I COULD weep for Mrs Hankey
I wonder what I should say to Mrs Finnegan. It has been so useful to have the threat of dismissal to keep her on her toes. I must keep see to it that she does not forget it. I will be able to ask her to do almost anything. So very convenient.
There again, perhaps not.
MRS FINNEGAN is a regular feature created and written by Bridget Whelan with the support of a WONDERFUL team of volunteers at The Regency Town House, along with the MOST charming of readers and subscribers.
This week a special thank you to CATHERINE PAGE
Don’t miss next Tuesday’s thrilling episode.
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Not too early. We don’t go out until the streets are well-aired.