1790 Meryton
MERYTON
Mrs Lucas found her son, John, wailing in the pantry. She went to him, flooded with sorrow to see him so distressed. With some difficulty – allowing for a heavily pregnant belly – she got down on her knees. ‘What is it, my darling?’
‘Archie has gone! He’s lost!’
She pulled her son to her and held him. Poor little John, only four, loved the family rabbit very dearly.
‘I am sure he is not gone. Is he not in the run?’
Between sobs, John shook his head.
Holding his pudgy little hand, Mrs Lucas went out into their garden.
Their home, a middle-size townhouse on the west side of Meryton, was a pleasant one, although she worried that it would soon become snug for their growing family, with Charlotte, John, little James in the crib, and another on the way.
She led John to the generous-sized run they had created for Archie, the black and white rabbit who had lived longer than anyone had imagined – and longer than some had hoped.
But he was now a part of the family. Archie has proportionately more generous quarters than anyone, thought Mrs Lucas ruefully.
Archie belonged to Charlotte, really; it was to her that Mr Lucas had proudly presented the creature – a gift from an eccentric foreign trader – and Charlotte had taken to having a pet immediately, loving him wholeheartedly and kindly sharing him with her younger brother.
But whereas in John’s arms, the rabbit usually wriggled, terrified, with Charlotte, he would sit very still for a good length of time, assured by her steadiness and her quiet nature.
‘Are you sure he is not in there somewhere?’ asked Mrs Lucas, scanning the large patch of ground edged with wooden planks where Archie was often let out to enjoy some freedom, under Charlotte’s supervision.
But, no, she checked all over the run and inside the hutch, and it appeared John was right: Archie was not there. And further searching of the house and grounds failed to locate him.
When she returned, Mrs Lucas found Charlotte comforting John, sitting on the steps of the terrace, her arm around his shoulders.
She was a good sister – and thank heaven for that.
Mrs Lucas would need help in the years to come.
She hoped this would be her last; four was plenty.
She was comforted to have two boys already, with only one daughter so far to marry off – that should be easy enough.
Due to some miracle – or to Archie’s complete indifference to the local countryside – he was found that evening.
Mr Lucas went out with fairly low expectations of success, but soon found the beloved creature, shaking and cold, hiding under a hedge about ten yards from the back of their garden.
The news brought great jubilance to the household, particularly to John.
When Mrs Lucas tucked her daughter in at bedtime, she made a point of saying to her, ‘You were very kind to your brother today, darling. You’re a good girl.’
Charlotte smiled drowsily; she was ready for sleep. ‘He was very sad.’
‘He was. But were you not sad as well?
Charlotte shook her head.
‘Why not? Wouldn’t you miss Archie if he went away?’
‘Yes,’ responded her daughter, her eyes now falling shut, ‘I just knew he’d come back to me.’