Charles nodded. “I shall ship out on the Protector as soon as my brother returns to Portsmouth.”
“Excellent! And when do you expect—”
“Now, Charles, that is foolish talk, and you know it,” his mother admonished him.
“A lot of use you would be to William!” Susan laughed. “A pretty cabin boy you would make! I have never known you to obey a single command of mother’s or mine. What will you do, Charles, when a midshipman knocks you about the head and orders you to black his boots. I fancy you would pitch him over the side—”
“And that would reflect very poorly on your brother, you know,” finished Mrs. Price.
“Since William is the commander, no-one would ill-treat me,” protested Charles.
“That is all you know,” said his mother wisely. “Cabin boys are made to be ill-treated, and to follow orders all day long. You had better stay with me for now, and we will find you an apprenticeship. Perhaps our friend Mr. Miller will take you on,” she added, with a significant look at Susan, who screwed up her face and turned away.
“I hope we shall see Commander Price in Portsmouth before long,” said Mr. Gibson affably, for William Price, the oldest of Mrs. Price’s numerous progeny, was a close friend of his.
“We do not expect him until later this spring,” Mrs. Price explained, picking up her knitting from the basket beside her. “His convoy is in Ireland at present. And you, Mr. Gibson, how long will you be staying amongst us this time?”
“Unfortunately, madam—” Mr. Gibson began, but Mrs. Price carried on without waiting for a reply—
“For my part, you know, Mr. Gibson, I have been thinking on it, and I believe I might not remain here in Portsmouth for the rest of my days, now that my dear husband is gone. I could return to Huntingdon, I fancy. I left a great many friends behind when I married Mr. Price. If I returned, perhaps Sir Thomas might assist me in finding a little cottage. I should be vastly content!”
Betsey dropped her sewing and ran to her mother’s side.
“Oh mama, how I hate to hear you say so! Leave Portsmouth and all my friends! Go away from the harbour to horrid old Northamptonshire! Please, say we will stay here always.”
“And, should I remove back to my girlhood home, it would be in my power to visit my sister Bertram, and show my respects to Sir Thomas now and again,” Mrs. Price continued, “and I am sure that is the least I can do, after all he has done for me and mine.”
Fanny said nothing, but was inwardly persuaded that her uncle could well dispense with his share of the honour of a such a visit.
“Our Susan should be off my hands before the year is out,” Mrs. Price added complacently, “for she is being courted by Mr. Miller’s son—and a very pretty match she has made.”
Susan looked chagrined, and sighed.
“Indeed, ma’am,” said Mr. Gibson, winking at Susan.
“Yes, and I am sure there is nothing to look down upon there, for all some would say they are not truly gentlefolk. I will own that baking bread is not a proper profession. My uncle, you know, was an attorney, and of course my late husband was an officer of Marines. More than that, Susan is niece to a baronet, we must remember. I hope Sir Thomas does not—in short—if I have no objections, then I trust Sir Thomas will not. The Millers are a very good sort of people, and prosperous as well.”
And so Mrs. Price give her sanction for her portionless daughter to marry into a family who were a byword in Portsmouth for their industry and respectability.
“Indeed, ma’am, so I imagine—”
“So, as I was saying, after Susan is married and Charles is apprenticed, there will be only Betsey and I—”
There arose the usual cacophony that constituted a discussion in the Price household, where nobody could command attention when they spoke and nobody stopped to listen to the others.
“Mother, I did ask you not to speak so freely about Jacob—there is no saying—”
“I shall not be apprenticed, Mother. I am going to sea—”
“I shan’t leave Portsmouth! I shan’t, I shan’t!”
Mr. Gibson waited for a pause in the conversation.
“I do not wonder at your thinking of leaving Portsmouth, ma’am,” he said. “The city will suffer grievously once the war is finally over. A great many sailors are already thrown upon shore, more are coming, and many men who have made supplies and victuals for the Navy will be out of employment.”
“Yes, that’s so,” Susan agreed. “Mr. Miller says he expects to lose his contract for ship’s biscuit and he will be forced to discharge three score of his workers.”
“My William will be wanted, even if the others are not,” said Mrs. Price in a tone that admitted of no doubt. “He will not be cast off. The Navy will require his services, even after the war.”
“But then, ma’am, if you are far away in Northamptonshire, it may not always be in William’s power to visit you when he calls to port,” said Fanny, for it was no secret that William, her first-born, was Mrs. Price’s favourite child.
“Oh, gracious!” exclaimed Mrs. Price. “Yes, indeed. Well, we shall wait and see how William fares when the war is over. When I learn
