edited June 26

Holding the Berrow’s Worcester Journal (Great Britain’s oldest newspaper started in 1690), under her arm, May knocked on the door of Muriel’s house.  Both girls lived in Lansdown Crescent, an off shoot of Rainbow Hill, an exclusive area of large wealthy houses, with huge gardens, owned by the upwardly mobile new rich of the city.

May lived with her parents Eliza and Tom, and brother Tom, in number 9.  Muriel, an only child, lived with her parents, George and Louisa in number 7.

When Emily, one of the servants opened the door, May burst in and said, “I must show this paper to Muriel right away.  Where is she?” 

“I will inform Miss King that you are here,” said Emily, trying her best to sound formal and proper, and ushered May into the Drawing Room and took her coat. May was wearing a pale green daytime dress with straight sleeves which developed into bloused effects gathered into wrist bands.

Minutes later Muriel appeared, very pleased to see her friend again. It had been several days since the Queen’s funeral service, and she wanted to start immediately to plan her campaign of marrying the young man she had met there. She was wearing a white and black print taffeta skirt, straight in front with gathers in back,  and a double flounce at bottom of skirt and a blouse a creamy textured cotton material, with fancy embroidery and openwork, and a high neck. 

“Look what it says here,” said May, showing the report of the Queen’s real funeral.  “This was written by a man who was in charge of the procession,” and she quoted from it.

“February 2, 1901, was a bitterly cold day with some snow, and the gun-carriage, under the charge of S Battery, Royal Horse Artillery and under the independent command of Lieutenant M. L. Goldie, had been kept waiting at Windsor Station, together with naval and military detachments, etc., for a considerable period.  N/R.H.A. were posted in the Long Walk ready to fire a salute of 81 guns, commencing when the cortege left Windsor Station for St. George's Chapel, at about 3 p.m.    Lieutenant P. W. Game was placed in command, and proceeded to the station to ensure that signaling arrangements were perfect. When the Royal coffin, weighing about 9 cwt., had been placed on the carriage, drums began muffled rolls, which reverberated under the station roof, and the cortege started. Actually, when the horses took the weight, the eyelet hole on the splinter bar, to which the off-wheel trace was hooked, broke. The point of the trace struck the wheeler with some violence inside the hock, and naturally the horse plunged. A very short time would have been required to improvise an attachment to the gun-carriage. However, when the wheelers were unhooked, the naval detachment promptly and gallantly seized drag ropes and started off with the load. The "gun-carriage" had been specially provided from Woolwich and was fitted with rubber tyres and other gadgets. This was due to Queen Victoria's instructions after seeing a veritable gun-carriage in use at the Duke of Albany's funeral, as also was the prohibition of the use of black horses.

"On February 4, in compliance with the command of King Edward, the royal coffin was conveyed on another carriage, from Windsor to the Royal Mausoleum at Frogmore by means of the same detachment of men and horses. A few days later King Edward said that no blame for the contretemps was attached to the Royal Horse Artillery by reason of the faulty material that had been supplied to them.”
“What a laugh,” said May.  “To think that our glorious Queen almost didn’t make it to her own funeral.”

“I don’t think you should make light of it,” said Muriel sharply, “and I am very pleased that those brave men did the courageous thing and took the place of the horses to make sure it all went to plan.”

Having shared her enjoyment at the article, May was then invited to take tea, and Muriel said they must begin to make their plan.

“I must find out whom that young man was who spoke to Eveline Duncan after the service,” she said.

“Why are you so worked up about it? He was young and good looking, but he said he was off to Oxford, so he won’t be around here much of the time.”

“He said, Aunt Eveline, didn’t he?  How well do you know Eveline Duncan? Can you get her to invite us around to her house for tea?”

“It would be easier to ask Charlotte Walker to make the arrangements. She is very thick with Eveline. I myself hardly know her, and would find it most strange to barge in on her on some pretext or other. But I still don’t quite understand your interest.”

“I knew from the moment I saw him that our destinies would be entwined. I knew from the moment I heard his voice that I would never rest until he spoke again to me, in those dulcet tones.”

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic. I don’t see what he has that appeals to you so.”

“Let’s go out now and call on Charlotte Walker.  I don’t feel like I can rest until I have made some progress in my plan.”

“Your plan?”

“I plan to marry him.”

“Oh Muriel, how silly you are. Anyway, he smiled just as brightly at me. Perhaps I shall marry him myself.  Is this part of that same thought you had in church about being of royal blood? Do you think you can command whomever you wish to marry you?”

“I said I would tell you more about my ancient royal lineage. Wait here; I will fetch Mother’s letters.”

May sipped her tea and enjoyed the roaring fire, as it was a bleak day outside.  Not five minutes later, Muriel was back.

My father’s mother was called Ann Williams. She had this letter from her cousin, Mary Michelle.  I’ve marked the important phrases. I will read them out to you. This first one was written in 1894.

“If the tradition in the family is true, our grandmother also came from noble lineage being the descendant of the Marquis of Winchester. I have an old book said to have belonged to that family. £50 and a share of his library books were left to each of those who could claim and prove their cousinship to one of the family. Grandmother Burgess proved and received £50 and the books. My mother said that Aunt Eager had a ring, which she told me Lady Elizabeth Paulet gave to her, Grandmother Burgess saying that she, Aunt Eager, was her granddaughter.”

“That’s very interesting, but hardly proof of royal blood.”

“Here’s the other letter. This one is from 1899.

“Our grandmother was Sarah, 5th daughter of George and Elizabeth Burgess who had a farm at Nuthurst not far from West Grinstead Park. The mother of Elizabeth Burgess was the daughter of Lord Peter (5th son of the Marquis of Winchester) and Lady Paulet, who married a Mr. Bates. Mr. and Mrs. Burgess had six daughters and no son.

"The eldest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Burgess was first married to Mr. Michell of Hermanger Guildford, Sussex and secondly to Michael King of Linacre, Craleigh, Surrey. (We actually called our house Linacre, because of him.)

"The fifth Daughter married B. James Robinson of West Grinstead.”

“What do you intend to do with all this information about your royal family?” asked May with a wry smile.

“I will make a family tree, and find out all of those who are involved. Then I shall write to anyone who might know where that ring is. I would like that have that ring myself.”

“First you say you want to marry a stranger who has only said one sentence to you, and then you say you want to get possession of a ring which belongs to royal ancestors. I think you have ideas far above reality, my girl.”

“I usually get what I want,” said Muriel firmly, ending the conversation.

The girls put on their warm woolen cloaks and mufflers, and set out for Charlotte Walker’s house.  Charlotte and her family lived at 26 Lowesmore – right in the middle of the commercial area of the city.  Her father, Charles, who had spoken eloquently on the occasion of the funeral, owned 2 properties – and ran his business from the next door house, number 27.  Charlotte, although a dynamic and obviously talented individual had not married, and Muriel suspected it had to do with her elder sister Mary.  The Walker parents were getting on in years, and neither had very good health.  Mary, the oldest of the Walker children, had always lived at home. She was somewhat simple, and Muriel suspected that she was of no use whatever in helping around the household. There were two other Walker daughters, older than Charlotte.  Both had left home under rather awkward circumstances, leaving without telling their parents where they were going, and then only communicating by letter later, once their futures were established. Lilian Elizabeth had gone to London to be a nurse and was working at St. John’s Westminster Hospital for Women.  Lucy Marion had gone north to Kirby Lonsdale and had become a teacher at the Clergy Teachers’ School.  Rumour had it that Mr. Walker was livid and said he wanted nothing more to do with either of them, and cut them out of his will. So that left Charlotte to try to please her father by remaining at home, helping care for Mary and also for her aging parents.

“I often wonder if my fate will be similar to Charlotte’s” said May. “If my father died suddenly, as I am the only daughter, I expect Mother will want me to live with her and care for her.”

“You must not do it,” said Muriel. “You must make your own life. Daughters should no longer be regarded as unpaid servants to their parents. I will not let you ruin your life like that. I will personally see that you marry, and when I get to meet my mysterious stranger, I expect he will have a friend who will do nicely for you.”
May couldn’t help but smile at the determination of her friend. She would willingly go along with Muriel’s plans – because it was the most excitement that she could see likely to come into her life. Maybe Muriel was right and she would meet a suitable man at the same time. She could but hope, and she did find the young man they hadmet at church handsome. So far men had not featured highly in her life.  She found herself unable to converse with them easily. Not a great beauty, she was not altogether unhappy with her appearance. She had rather pretty hair, chestnut brown with natural curl. Her features were regular and her eyes a sparkling blue. She was not of great stature – measuring only five feet two inches, but she was slim and well proportioned.

Her friend Muriel struck a much more impressive note. She was very confident and determined.    Muriel was the taller of the two, perhaps five foot five, and her dark brown hair was swept dramatically on her head – held in place with sparkling combs. Her eyes were hazel, sometimes looking green, and one almost felt like they bore into you as she held your attention.  Muriel was always in the plays at school - and always the lead. She always answered questions in class, and wouldn’t admit to it, if the teacher didn’t allow her answers.  She studied art and architecture, and had ever so many books about them. It was as if Muriel was in waiting for a very exciting life to come and sweep her away.  And perhaps now it had begun. May was equally clever at school, gifted at music and languages and she enjoyed organising work.  She was very capable of accomplishing whatever plan she set before herself.

It was only a ten minute walk to Charlotte’s house, but the girls walked briskly to keep from getting too cold. The door was answered by the maid. “Please could you ask Miss Charlotte Walker if she could see us,” said Muriel. “We are not expected, but if Miss Charlotte Walker had a few minutes, we would be most obliged.”
The maid took Muriel’s card and told the girls to have a seat in the front hall while she went to enquire.  Not a minute later Charlotte herself came into the room. She had only been reading, and was very pleased to have a reason to escape for awhile. She recognised the girls, and ushered them into the morning room. Her mother and sister were in the parlour, embroidering, and she didn’t want to disturb them.

“May I offer you some tea?” Charlotte looked neat, wearing a cream coloured high necked lace blouse and a plain black skirt.

“No, thank you. We just had tea,” said Muriel. “I know this is enormous cheek, but we have come to find out from you whether you will do us a great favour. We would like to visit your friend Eveline Duncan, and we didn’t think she would know who we were or be willing to see us on our own. We wondered if we could impose on you to take us with you when you next visit her.”

“How intriguing” said Charlotte.  “Why do you suddenly have this urge to get to know Eveline, if I may ask?”

Muriel looked a bit uncomfortable, but decided honesty was the only answer. “Well, it isn’t Eveline at all that we want to know better – but her relatives.  We would very much like to make the acquaintance of her nephew, who spoke to us briefly the other day, and she seemed the most likely avenue by which to get such an introduction.”

“I know little of her nephew – only that he and his family used to live next door to Eveline in Little Perdiswell. But I don’t see why you shouldn’t have your wish.  I will write to Eveline and suggest that I bring you both with me and go to visit her in the near future.  Would any day suit you?”

“I will make sure that I am available whenever you say,” said Muriel. “I will let nothing get in the way of my quest,” she added, but when Charlotte looked at her strangely, she rather wished she hadn’t put it quite like that.

“I would be most grateful to you for your help in this matter,” she added, “and will anxiously await the details of our visit to the Duncans.”

Their task accomplished, May and Muriel made their goodbyes, calling into the parlour briefly to say hello to Mrs. and Miss Walker, and then did a bit of window shopping as they wended their way back to Lansdown Crescent.