The Man from America by Mrs Henry de la Pasture (1905)

This is Pasture-lite. The author's initially established mode was to present a typically late nineteenth century tableau of marriage and money, leaven it with a large cast and comedy, and then add some moral depth for gravitas. In her previous novel she began to alter the mixture with a reduced cast and comedy and more moral depth. In this one she has switched the emphases again; the moral depth is much less evident. It starts with an aged Irish-French Vicomte de Nauroy established at one edge of Pasture's favourite location, in this instance the Devon-Somerset borders. An idyllic valley brimming with green, two great houses and a couple of lesser ones. The Vicomte, quite fat and comfortable and a little distant from worldliness (who could play him in the BBC adaptation? well, yes, only David Suchet) is very relaxed in the manorhouse-cum-cottage Honeycott. We follow his two charges, Rosaleen and Kitty, his granddaughters, through losing their mother, gaining a terrible stepmother, losing their father and their home (one of the two great houses) in favour of the stepmother's daughter. There is brightness and comedy scattered throughout this journey, the story is dappled with sunlight, twisting lanes, kitchen gardens, vast woods, flowers. Also part of the mix are a huge cast of well-to-do locals and some incomers. The 'boys' of the other great house, their nouveau-riche parents, as well as a family of incredibly wealthy Americans, one of the patriarchs of whom was the Vicomte's youthful friend in days of war, and who has acknowledged his debt to the Vicomte by supplying him with business-tips ever since. So, yes, this novel is even more about money than many of Pasture's others, although it's always an important skein. There is only one life challenge to be overcome in this plot, for all the young ones to marry well: that is to say, to marry someone they love, and be very comfortable financially by the way. And needless to say, with much tearing around, and an abundance of comedic come-uppances, all turns out as it should, and previously hidden wealth is put to very good use! I have to reiterate a previous comment: that Pasture is nothing if not a born storyteller; her resounding belief in this tale materially bulwarks its entertainment-value. But this is very 'spangly' - I'd like to see her return to the fine balance of her earlier efforts.