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Short Story

Ask an Interfering Dowager from a Victorian Novel

Fintan O'Higgins

Dear Interfering Dowager,

I’m about to get married to a wonderful man. He’s kind, considerate and handsome. There’s just one problem – he snores! And how. I’m a light sleeper at the best of times and this is driving me crazy. I’ve done everything to try and stop him – I even tried wearing earplugs for a while, but I couldn’t sleep with lumps of styrofoam in my ears. It’s driving me nuts and I’m beginning to worry about how his out-of-control noise may affect our future life together. If it’s like this now, how will it be when we are living together? And how will I cope if I have a baby screaming in one ear and a husband snoring in the other?!

     On the Verge.

 

Dear On the Verge,

Yes, yes, my dear, it must be allowed that Captain Graves is a pleasant enough companion, so far as it goes, and I have no absolute reason to suspect his character to be anything other than irreproachable. Well-favoured, too, if you must have it so, although what he thinks to achieve with those extravagant whiskers is, I confess, beyond me. But – and please remember, my dear, that I have only your own best interests at heart – is the Captain a man of substance? I do not presume to resolve the matter here, I merely mention it for your consideration. Well, my dear young friend, I should have thought that quite plain. But since you insist on being blunt – what are his means? Glossy moustaches and a wellturned ankle are all to the good, my dear, but they are hardly the foundations of a fortune.

 

Dear Interfering Dowager,

My wife and I recently moved to a new city. To begin with we found ourselves alone and strangers in our new area, but we soon made friends with our neighbours – call them Tom and Barbara. Naturally we were delighted to have such friendly and welcoming neighbours and we accepted their invitations to barbecues and picnic outings gratefully. However, much of Tom and Barbara’s social life revolves around their church - they are both devout Christians – and increasingly I get the feeling that our new friends are targeting us as part of some sort of recruitment drive! My wife and I have our own beliefs and we are not interested in joining our neighbours’ church. But how can we preserve our friendship with this wonderful and generous couple without compromising our beliefs or seeming to belittle theirs?

     In a Diplomatic Minefield.

 

Dear Minefield,

Nonsense, my dear – never reproach yourself! Indeed the sentiment does you credit, but your affection for the Captain, who is a gentleman if nothing else, was as much to be understood as it might have been deplored if left unchecked. And while the silly ardour of a childish infatuation is never becoming in a young person of your station and prospects, still it would be a cold heart indeed that could condemn the warmth of a youthful fancy. Now! Let us leave the matter, for I am sure that Sir Edmund will be here at any moment, and if he cuts perhaps a less glamorous figure than the Captain, still you will confess that a man of such substance must deserve to see you at your best. Gracie, fetch our young friend’s toilet things! We must display your charms to their fullest advantage, my dear!

 

Dear Interfering Dowager,

Since the death of our mother last year, my sister Jean has come to live with my husband and me. Up until Mum died, Jean lived at home, had a dead-end job and no social life to speak of. I always got the feeling she resented my life – wonderful husband, two great kids and a job I love – and now she seems to be getting her revenge! She constantly snipes and criticises everything I do. It’s driving me crazy and it’s affecting my marriage, since I find myself constantly making excuses for my sister to my husband. But when I try to challenge Jean she just breaks down and tells me how much she misses our mother, and how she appreciates our generosity in allowing her to stay. I love my sister and I want to help her, but she’s ruining my life – what can I do?

     Twisted Sister

 

Dear Sister,

Oh, Sir Edmund, you are too wicked! I declare you have made your young companion blush. Indeed if it were not to impute an ungentlemanly motive to your pleasantries, I should have almost thought them designed to bring about such an effect; for I allow she does blush most prettily. Ah, but I see we have embarrassed our young friend. Well then, I shall cease to torment you, my dear. It is such a delightful evening, won’t you show Sir Edmund the rose garden? The roses are a joy, Sir Edmund, and if the garden is perhaps best seen in the light of day, still I daresay there is one rose at least whose bloom will not be shown to disadvantage by moonlight! Away with you now! Not you, Captain Graves! I have a very particular desire to interrogate you on your adventures in the South Seas.

 

Dear Interfering Dowager,

I have been dating my boyfriend for nearly a year now and I’m very much in love. However, recently, he has become fat! He must have put on twenty pounds in the last couple of months. He eats nothing but junk and never exercises. It’s getting to the stage where I’m embarrassed to be seen out with him. How can I make my slob of a man get trim? Am I being shallow to judge him this way? I don’t want to end up married to a fat man. I love my boyfriend, but it’s getting out of control.

     Tubby Hubby Trouble

 

Dear Trouble,

So! This, then, is how I am repaid for my efforts! To find you and this creature making love in my dear dead husband’s garden. Have you no shame – at once to betray the confidence and love of a dear friend, who have never I declare had any but your own interests at heart; and still to ally yourself to a man whose prospects amount to no more than will keep him in shoe-leather, though his moustaches be never so fine! No, not a word! I blame myself, I do, for ever having interested myself – nay devoted myself – to so silly and shallow a girl, whose sense of gratitude barely urges her to preserve her own honour, never mind that her choice of companion must cast a shadow on the judgement of her dear foolish old friend, must even compromise the decency of a venerable old house and still serve to mock the affections of a gentleman of title and substance so far beyond the merits of this poor sailor as to disgrace the one by mere verbal association with the other! There, now, I have done, and I hope, my girl, that you never have cause to regret your betrayal of the fondest and sincerest friend that ever a silly young thing might have had cause to think of with some kindliness!

 

Margaret, Lady Hyssop is an interfering dowager from a Victorian novel, whose advice column is syndicated to 250 newspapers nationwide.

[This problem page is grateful to The Onion for its existence - Ed.]