Elinor and Marianne arrived at the party together. Both had gotten dressed up especially for the occasion. They had gotten ready together and shared a few laughs together while adorning each other with delicate trinkets and hair pieces. They had stood side by side in the mirror and regarded each other together. Marianne was petite, yet round in countenance with fair skin, but dark curly hair and dark brown eyes. Elinor was slightly taller in stature but seemed to tower over Marianne because of her broad shoulders and wide-set hips.
As they entered the room they were greeted by a number of their close friends. Immediately, they were offered both drinks and appetizers. Not even two minute had passed before the two were introduced to an attractive looking young man. It was soon apparent just why they had been introduced as Elinor awkwardly became the "third-wheel," to the two. It wasn't the first time an instance like this had occurred. At this point in her life, she had grown accustomed to it.
Elinor stood and listened as Marianne completely engrossed her listener with frivolous occurrences in her day-to-day life. Nonetheless, the man seemed fascinated by what unintelligible things Marianne had to say. It wasn't that Marianne was un-intelligent. Quite the contrary. She had always been one to excel with her studies and even surpassed many of her equals of her age and status.
But, Marianne always knew what to say when it came to men. She had the so-desired after gift of knowing exactly what to say at precisely the right time. And presently, this was no exception. The man with whom she was currently conversing seemed so engrossed in her almighty conversation-even if it was just about whether sun-rooms should be painted sky blue, or soft yellow.
Elinor didn't dare intrude in the conversation. She knew better than that now. For one thing, she knew there was really no clear-cut answer to the matter, for it was based on personal opinion alone. And for a second thing, Elinor would have been inclined to steer the conversation to a more serious point such as whether or not they would tear down part the incredible forest opposite their house in order to install the new railroad tracks. No, interfering in the conversation would not do. In any case, she knew that no matter what she said, the man currently conversing with then would only reply with a polite bow of his head and a sheepish smile, meant of course as a friendly concurrence, but taken as a brush aside.
Next, Marianne made her way to the pianoforte. Her choice of music would be indubitable: Mozart. Only a true mastermind such as he could capture Marianne's fire and spirit, as well as her cravings for attention. Yes, indeed as Marianne's fingers flew to play the runs and trills of the music, every ear in the room admired her indescribable talent for being able to play such an exciting piece of art.
Predictably, Elinor was kindly asked to play for the company next. Predictably, Elinor chose a piece by J.S. Bach, and even more predictably, people appreciated it less than the Mozart. Elinor cared not to impress people on the way she played, nor on the artist who could write such a piece. Rather, Elinor wished for the hearers to be brought to a peaceful state of mind which was enveloped in thoughts of things more sacred or more divine.
When Elinor had finished, it was announced that the first of the evening's dances should begin at any moment. Elinor watched as more than one admirer advanced towards Marianne's general direction. OF course they all wished to be the first with whom she would be so gracious as to dance with.
Elinor stepped outside and into a small garden off the side of to house. She did not want the humiliating experience of being left alone for that first dance. It had happened to her more than once before. Perhaps if she went out for some fresh air it would give her an excise to not be a part of the ritualistic ceremony.
As she stood in the middle of the garden she found herself amidst a beautiful section of carnations. She stood looking up at the stars as tears welled in her eyes. Certainly, it wasn't appropriate to show such emotion and usually she always did her best to hide it. But for some reason, be it the sun room, the Bach, or the carnations, Marianne felt over come by her emotions.
She was deep within her own thoughts when suddenly a rustling sound behind her snapped her back into reality. That's when it occurred to her for the first time that the charming garden wasn't such a private place to hide after all. Indeed, she was not at all alone in the garden.