Working with Campion

By Marian Knightley

Emelie

            It was early in the spring when our…mishap occurred. I was quite adamant in telling my father to wait another year before hosting another house party. Ever since mother died a year before, I had to care for my father. He had become rather absent-minded over the years, and I had taken over the majority of the housekeeping and management. My father was oblivious to everything, and quite used to the idea of my being the one in charge. But he was quite stubborn, as well, in keeping up with certain traditions. Especially our annual house party, and I had to give in.

I sent out the invitations to our close friends. It was only a select few; the Colonel and Mrs. Randings, their son Andrew; and my dear friend Catherine Hebert. There was also our neighbor Mr. Wilcox and his own son, Peter. And of course, there was myself, my father, and my older brother Tom. And I mustn’t forget Tom’s friend, but he only arrived on the second day of our party. Our house parties always lasted about a week or so, and it was on the second day that Tom’s friend arrived. Tom, as was his usual custom, did not remember to tell me that his friend would be coming, and I admit I was very flustered when I ran into the certain gentleman in the entryway. He had just arrived and Stevens, our butler, had shown him in and dashed off to find Tom. I stood at least for a moment, taken aback, and merely surveyed the tall stranger before me. He looked back, seemingly at ease, from behind his round-rimmed glasses. My first thought was that he was not very handsome, which was true. He was not particularly handsome with his sandy-colored hair, his dark eyes, or lean figure.

After the moment of staring, he smiled at me.

“Hullo,” he greeted, “Albert Campion. I’m a friend of Tom’s.” he held out a hand, and I took it. It was warm and firm, as if he was truly glad to meet me.

“Emelie Hardings. I’m Tom’s sister.”

“Charmed,” he flashed another smile that made me smile back.

“Ah, and this,” Mr. Campion turned to the tall, rough sort of looking man, who had just entered the house carrying some baggage, “,is my man, Lugg. Ugly-looking fellow, but a handy one to have around. He used to be a burglar.” Mr. Campion leaned forward and lowered his tone a bit as he spoke his last sentence.

Mr. Lugg nodded at me, “Miss,”

I nodded back. I had to glance at him curiously. A former burglar? What sort of friends did Tom have? I had to wonder.

It was at that moment that Tom decided to finally appear with Stevens close behind.

“Albert!” My brother greeted him enthusiastically, and the pair began to chat affably, as Tom led Mr. Campion into the parlor. Mr. Campion had the goodness to nod at me before following Tom.

Stevens inquired as to where he was to put Mr. Campion, and I had to go back to my hostess duties, and decided which room to give Mr. Campion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tom

I was dreadfully glad to see Campion that day when he first popped in. Emelie scolded me later for not giving her warning as to his coming, but I think she seemed to like his looks. Or rather his manners…poor fellow isn’t especially known for his looks.

“Charming girl, your sister. Doesn’t seem to have much of a voice.” Campion said to me, as we settled in the parlor.

“Oh, Emelie’s a great girl. She’s just all strung up about being the perfect hostess and all that.”

“Very pretty.”

“Yes, she’s the beauty of the family. Got the beastly Hardings temper too.” I had to chuckle. “I say, Albert, I’m frightfully glad you’re here. It’ll be so nice to have someone around who can talk some sense!”

Campion raised his eyes inquiringly at me, “Who are in the rest of the party?”

“Ah, well, there’s the old Colonel Randing and his wife, their awful son, Andrew. He and Peter Wilcox are stuck on Emelie, and it’s a blasted job keeping them off her back. They’ll have nothing to with each other either.”

“This Wilcox is here as well?”

“Yes, with his father. He’s an all right sort of chap. Just rather on the unintelligent side. Then there’s Cathy Hebert. She’s a friend of Emelie’s. You can seem them all there, out in the garden.” I pointed out the window to the party in the garden. Emelie was just joining them, and passing around some drinks. I suggested we head out and get a glass of the lemonade ourselves, and Campion readily agreed.

Speak Without a Word

Filled with wonder and delight!
Magic and sunbeams!
I discovered a secret land
Filled with all sorts of merry things grand!
Where a language is spoken differently
Where you speak not by tongue
But with your fingers!
A place where you'll always want to linger.
With this language, you'll see
You can raise up a storm
Set off fireworks
Cause yourself to weep
Or lull a baby to sleep.
The language is soft
And loud beyond all thunder!
It is kind and passionate.
It is loving and compassionate!
It speaks much more than words
Goes beyond what you could think.
To learn, is not burdensome.
You only have to stop and listen.
You have to slow down
Slow and stop.
Stop and listen.
Quiet
Now begin.
Touch it once.
Twice.
Thrice.
Don't you hear?
You're learning! Don't stop!
Tell your story...
Tell your thoughts.
Stroke and unlock the keys
Don't let the remain silent
Play whatever you see.
Discover the language of music.

Copyright belongs to LadyMarian. April 2008. (No stealing, please!)

How d'ya do and shake hands

I'm looking for friends

One and all from all lands

So if you want to be friends

Just speak up and say so

I'll wave and say hello

For I'm not shy in anyway

And will talk on if you'll stay

So helloooo to you all

Who want a friend too!

(Yes, I mean this as a real statement...not just as a silly rhyme. :D)

Black as far as eye can see

Waves rise high as the cliffs be.

Dark mixes with the wave swells

Spraying where the lighthouse dwells.

A tiny beam of light

Strikes a way through the mist

Giving the lost sight

Doing all it can to assist.

A small form works hard all night

Keeping that light always bright.

She is small in size and age

Working away with no praise nor wage.

All alone, but loyal and true

She works on, though the hours tick past

Doing all she can do

Making the oil and wick last.

Sleep is heavy and nigh

Anxiety is also close at hand

But she does not give in, aye!

She will not rest, til all are on land.

I might as well tell a bit about myself...

My real name is a mystery, but you can just call me Marian. :D Marian Knightley is one of the many nom de plumes I use for my writings.

I"m a writer, of sorts. I love writing, as you'll soon find out. :D I'm planning on using this blog mainly for my writings, as I already have a blog for my normal journaling.

Anyways, I love writing stories...mostly historical mysteries. I am particularly interested in WW2.

I would love to be a children's author, and am working on sending away for a course on learning to write for children.

I am eighteen years old, and am very passionate about many things. I love God with my whole heart, and am trying to serve Him...

I am also passionate about music. Particularly playing piano. I've been taking lesson for 10 years now, and have loved nearly every minute of it. :D I also love to knit, read, drink tea, watch period films (the '95 version of "Pride & Prejudice", "Sense & Sensibility", "North & South", "Cranford", "Wives & Daughters", "Emma", "Persuasion", "Northanger Abbey"...) as well as others ("Enchanted", "Nancy Drew", the "Thin Man" series, "National Treasure 1 & 2", "Batman Begins", "Elizabethtown", and many others...).

I'm very outspoken when it comes to my beliefs, and have my own opinions about nearly everything!

I was homeschooled all of my life, though I have graduated now. :)

And, that's all I'll say for now. After all, what's more interesting than to leave some mystery! :P