The Sweet Dove Died by Barbara Pym

The Sweet Dove Died by Barbara Pym

Author:Barbara Pym [Pym, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Literary
ISBN: 9781559213011
Publisher: Pan Books
Published: 1978-01-02T06:00:00+00:00


XIV

Getting rid of Miss Foxe proved surprisingly easy. Leonora had left the letter for her on the table in the hall where she could not fail to see it, rather than risk the embarrassment of an encounter by slipping it under her door. She had then gone out to calm herself and prepare for what was to come, for even Leonora – hard though she professed to be – could not but realise that turning an elderly gentlewoman out of her home might well be an upsetting experience. She paced round the park in the sunshine, admiring the beds of heliotrope and fuchsia and remembering the time she had walked there with James. It was for him that she was doing this, not for herself. Two turns round the park convinced her of the Tightness of her action, so that when she got back to the house to find Miss Foxe hovering in the hall she was ready for her, determined to be firm but not unkind, or at least no more unkind than was necessary.

‘Oh, Miss Eyre,’ said Miss Foxe – they had never become ‘Leonora’ and ‘Charlotte’ to each other – ‘I’ve just had your letter. I wonder if we could talk about it.’

‘Certainly, Miss Foxe,’ said Leonora, relieved that she did not appear unduly agitated. ‘Come in and have a cup of coffee,’ she added graciously.

‘Oh, thank you, Miss Eyre, your coffee is always so delicious.’

‘I’m afraid my letter must have been rather a shock to you,’ Leonora began as she poured the coffee.

‘Well, in a way it was, but really it was more of a relief. You see, I’ve been wanting to ask you if I could leave before the end of the lease, because I’ve found what I believe one calls “alternative accommodation”’ – here they smiled at each other – ‘and naturally I’m anxious to get into it as soon as possible.’

Leonora was almost disappointed. Where could Miss Foxe have found to go at as reasonable a rent as her present one that would be at all suitable?

‘It’s St Basil’s Priory,’ Miss Foxe went on, as if Leonora would know at once what she meant. ‘A delightful country house for elderly people run by Anglican nuns,’ she explained, ‘and they’ve agreed to take me in.’

She made herself sound like a fallen woman, Leonora thought, being ‘taken in’ by nuns.

‘A vacancy occurred through death – Mrs Ainger told me about it, only of course you don’t know her, do you? – anyway, there it is and I should like to go next week.’

‘But what about your furniture?’ Leonora asked, thinking of Humphrey. ‘I suppose you’ll want to sell it?’

‘Oh, no, I can take my bits and pieces with me. I’m to have two unfurnished rooms.’

‘I see – it sounds ideal for you.’

‘Yes, I’m so glad things have turned out like this. When you said that in your note about your friend returning from abroad and needing somewhere to live, I thought, well, perhaps this has



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