Posted on Saturday, 22-Aug-98

lizabeth," Sir Walter Elliot addressed his daughter as they were slowly strolling down the streets of Bath, "I know that the season is not over, but how would you feel about leaving Bath?"

"I would be most glad!" Elizabeth prettily stifled a little yawn. "Indeed, things are so dull around here. I suppose that all the ton are in London."

"Well I wasn't planing on going to London (And so soon? It would be most shocking to be seen there so early!) Yes, I wanted to go to a small town called Highbury."

"Highbury!" exclaimed Elizabeth angrily. "Oh, papa, really! There would be more society in London than Highbury--season or not. Why, I have never even heard of a decent family coming out of that little village. And such a dirty little place will certainly corrupt me!"

Sir Walter laughed and protested only further. Elizabeth finally gave her consent, on condition that they would only be staying in Highbury for a weekend, and then as hastily as possible travel on to London. I would never wish to go with such a plan, thought she, but papa will have his little whims. He is still so grieved by Mrs. Clay. And I really must consider the elderly--papa is over fifty; so close to death!

Sir Walter Elliot's wish to visit Highbury had nothing to do with society, money, or the baronetage. It wasn't even an elderly whim. But it was linked with Mrs. Clay, and Walter's anger and spite towards younger women. They don't love as they did in my day! So a woman from his day was what he was looking for; and not just a woman, but the woman. He chuckled to himself as he remembered Althea Clarett, a maid hired by his parents during his days at Oxford. How well he remembered coming home from the term, expecting to be bored completely, only to find that this little vixen of a maid filled his conscious hours with more than enough fun and spirit.

After a marriage to Elizabeth Stevenson, and an intented union with Mrs. Clay, the thought of Miss Clarett came to his mind for the first time in years. It did not take his lawyer long to track the lively little maid down, and it was found out that she now was a Mrs. Goddard--widowed, to be sure-- (But that doesn't matter, I suppose. I'm still the same handsome devil I was then, ha ha!)--and the operator of a small boarding school for girls. So Sir Walter reached Highbury in the great hopes of having a little fun.

"Papa!" exclaimed Elizabeth as they descended from the carriage, attended by their carriageman, James. "What a boring place you've brought me to! The streets are covered with filth, and I haven't seen one feathered cap since we got here!"

"Now, now," admonished Sir Walter. "You be a good girl! I have to visit, so please try to employ yourself somewhere."

"Employ myself? I can't learn so quickly! But I can visit, I suppose, but who? I'd be very fortunate, indeed, to find a respectable person in Highbury."

"Well, ma'am," broke in James, who had lived in a nearby town before obtaining his situation with the Elliots, and was very knowledgeable about the genteel, "I don't mean to sound too forward, but Highbury has plenty of good society! You can always visit Mrs. Emma Knightley."

"Mrs. Emma who?"

Mrs. Goddard's boarding school was just the sort of place Sir Walter had expected it to be--small, neat, pleasantly-located. He smiled as he saw the little girls rush around in their plain frocks. So quaint! But I never would imagine to find Althea running a place like this! Ha ha!

He went to the door, where he waited a few minutes in both nervousness and excitement. Finally it was opened, and a rather large, grey-haired woman stood before him.

"Can I speak with Alth--Mrs. Goddard, ma'am?"

The woman smiled. "I am Mrs. Goddard, my good sir!"

Sir Walter, in great confusion and disgust, managed to mutter something about finding the wrong house, but the woman kindly told him to come in. He was shown to a seat; Mrs. Goddard took a little chair across from his, making it creak as she sat down. She took up her work dilligently, hardly casting an eye at her guest.

This treatment rather annoyed Sir Walter. "Don't you remember who I am, ma'am? I should think you would, Althea!"

"Althea?" she cried in surprise. "Why, how did you know my name was Althea? I've never seen you before!"

"Oh?" smiled Sir Walter, trying to look debonaire. "Then you don't remember your job as maid at my parents' house--the good times we had?" Observing the woman's confusion, Sir Walter continued, "You don't remember calling me Walty, and chasing me around with the broom? I'm Sir Walter Elliot!"

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Mrs. Goddard calmly. "I don't remember."

This made Sir Walter angry. Of course she was too old and altered for him now, he conceded, but she should at least remember him. He tried relating other memories to her, but she continued on as engaged with her work as before.

"If you will excuse me, sir, I must be attending to the supper."

"All right," he said, "But will you at least give me a room to lodge in?"

The woman showed him to a spare, neat bedroom, and then sauntered down to the kitchen.

The night was spent sleepless for Sir Walter. His vanity was shaken by this unfeeling woman who had hurt his feelings even more than odious Mrs. Clay had. Why, a simple maid should remember me, by d---!

His thoughts, however, were interuppted when the door flew open. To his great surprise stood before him Mrs. Goddard, her enormous person clothed in a rather short night dress; ribbons tied into her unruly grey curls.

"Walty!" she cried, running to him. "I remember you now, old boy! Ah yes, we had some fun times! I've always remembered that one verse you used to read to me:

"And my divine Althea brings
To whisper at the grates;
When I lie tangled in her hair"

"I shall never read Lovelace again," moaned Sir Walter, fearing that a heart attack would come on. He had wanted the lady to acknowledge him, but this was too much.

"Yes," continued Mrs. Goddard, unheeding his frightened looks. "You were quite the boy, Walty! Oh, yes! Ha, ha. And remember, you gave me this--see, right here..."

Actually seeing that Mrs. Goddard was slowly lifting up her night dress, Sir Walter jumped off of his bed, tore down the steps, and rushed out into the night.

"So we are leaving Highbury already?" questioned Elizabeth the next morning. "Your business was bad, I guess?"

"Very," assented Sir Walter, "It always is!"

"Shame," sighed Elizabeth. "I was beginning to actually like the village! Such excessively amusing people! And Mrs. Knightley was telling me of a most diverting place that I simply must visit--a boarding school run by one Mrs. Goddard!"

"No!" muttered Sir Walter. "It's certainly not diverting: I would know! Hurry, James, on to London--as fast as you can go!"