Chapter Nine: Preparing to Part

Who never wanted, — maddest joy
Remains to him unknown:
The banquet of abstemiousness
Surpasses that of wine.

—E. Dickinson, "Desire"

Edith studied the glossy ivory keys of the piano carefully, as if she were to write a report on its condition afterwards. Her index finger floated over the keys and at last rested on middle "C", and she clumsily played the note, the bright timbre of the instrument echoing through the drawing-room. Then she took her left hand and placed it on the piano; and she was at last to commence her practicing, when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Fearing it might be Miss Brendan coming to check her progress, Edith jumped right into the song, fumbling through wrong chords and rhythms; and then when the door opened, she turned round and saw that it was Mrs. Edwin. Edith smiled at her prettily, but the façade was thin enough that the housekeeper saw through it.

"Edith," said Mrs. Edwin sharply, "have you gone into the village lately?"

"No," was the response, Edith mimicking her elder's tone; "Why do you ask such a question?"

Mrs. Edwin crossed her arms and looked very stern. "Because I do not think it wise for you to do so: you must keep away from there for a while."

Edith scowled, and stood up from the piano-stool. She did not understand why she could not go into Lambton if she so chose; and her inclination to do so only rose with Mrs. Edwin's advising her against it. After a pause, she replied:

"You can't tell me what I can and cannot do, Mrs. Edwin. I will go to the village if I like."

"Edith!" cried the housekeeper reproachfully; "I do not think it is safe, what with strange ladies calling on you and making you their confidante." She was, of course, referring to 'Miss Hawkins', and hoped that by using such measures she could at last extract the truth from the obstinate little girl. Edith now saw the subject which lingered foremost in the housekeeper's mind, and was not displeased with the realization.

"Well, my being shut up in this house will not stop them, will it?"

"Child, I beg you will tell me what she said! You do not understand how you harm yourself by keeping it secret."

Edith made no reply, but reseated herself on the piano-stool, as if she was fully prepared to ignore whatever chastising Mrs. Edwin had up her sleeve. Mrs. Edwin ground her teeth, not so much upset by the girl's refusal in light of it placing her in danger, but more that she could not bear her own unsatisfied curiosity; her desire to know. She knew she could not very well ban her master's charge from going into the town; but then another idea presented itself, in the form of a bribe.

"I dare say I could get that pearl-grey silk dress made for you; I find that I have time enough in the evenings that I could dedicate to its construction. But, I do not think I could manage it till you have told me of Miss Hawkins' visit in detail, for I could not in good conscience reward a naughty girl."

Edith now looked attentive to Mrs. Edwin; now she was speaking her language.

"That is very kind of you, Mrs. Edwin; but you know, I should not like to betray my confidences. That would be very naughty indeed."

"It would not be so naughty, if it was for your own good; and surely Miss Hawkins did not mean that you could not tell the poor old housekeeper who has taken care of you since you were very young; nearly a babe. On the contrary, it would be a very good thing. And if you were very good, I also might be able to re-trim the new bonnet you bought last week."

Edith was positively beaming now, as she reaped the benefits of the influence she held over Mrs. Edwin. The prospect of a re-trimmed bonnet and a new silk frock was very enticing; but she found she liked the high of seeing Mrs. Edwin in a state of almost desperation better.

"I will consider it, dear Mrs. Edwin. But I had better practice, and Simon will be lunching with me very soon, once he returns from the Applewhites'."

So Edith recommenced plugging at her songs and scales, and Mrs. Edwin was obliged to leave the room, and still with a deep curiosity unfulfilled.

----

The visitors at Pemberley were to leave shortly after the beginning of the New Year; and now the Bennet family's return to Hertfordshire was imminent. Catherine was disappointed that, though she had opportunity to dine at the estate of an elderly bachelor once, most of the time was spent at Pemberley, and among its inmates. Apparently it was felt that entertaining them was enough of a burden for the Darcys, so no more dinners or luncheons were held; and though there was the occasional caller, none among them was Mr. Mulligan or Edith; and this was what was chiefly disappointing to Catherine. She fancied she was as thick as thieves with them, their acquaintance being as slight as it was; but now that only a few days remained of her stay in Derbyshire that winter, she felt the inclination to call at the Kympton parsonage again.

She was in Lambton with Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy, and Lady Rosaline, as they visited some of the local shops. It seemed an odd party enough; but it came about by Darcy's desire for his wife to become better acquainted with his favorite cousin; and Catherine had happened to be in the same room at that time, therefore the invitation was extended to her out of common courtesy. It was eagerly accepted, for she had not been into Lambton very many times during her stay, and nothing pleased her better than a shopping expedition. And her initial wish of having new things was also satisfied, for Elizabeth had bought her a new bonnet, and a ready-made dress which fitted Catherine as well as ready-made dresses could. So she was very cheerful, and had even forgotten to be afraid of her ladyship as they spent their money.

"Oh! Look at that ribbon!" cried Catherine wistfully as they passed by the ribbon shop, and she peered into the window. "I have never seen such an exquisite shade of gold. Why, it almost glitters!"

Interestingly it was Rosaline who took heed of this exclamation, for she was feeling a bit put out by how attentive Darcy was being to his wife (though he could hardly be blamed for being so) and admired alongside Catherine with almost a childish fascination.

"It is much finer than the gold ribbon I have," remarked Rosaline.

"And I would buy it, only I have not a farthing," sighed Catherine. Then the two ladies turned around, only to be arrested by the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy chatting with Mr. Mulligan and Edith. Catherine was delighted at so convenient a meeting; Rosaline was not.

Catherine went over to them, so there was nothing left to do but for her companion to follow; and she greeted them with cheery alacrity. Then Mr. Mulligan was obliged to turn to Rosaline, whereupon his smile faded into almost a scowl, and he bowed gravely to her ladyship.

"I am so glad to see you," addressed Catherine, taking note of the parson's altered countenance once he discovered Lady Rosaline was present, but not choosing for such to be reflected in her expression: "I was going to call on you while I was in town; but see how things work out much to our advantage!"

Before Simon could retract his gaze from her ladyship, Edith put in:

"What were you looking at over there?" She gestured to the ribbon shop.

"The finest gold ribbon," said Catherine; then studying little Edith more closely, added: "It would suit your complexion very well, I think; for gold never quite looks well on me." She glanced at Lady Rosaline, and then at Mr. Mulligan, and continued, still addressing Edith: "And it would likewise wear well on Lady Rosaline. You have the same coloring of the skin, you know."

Rosaline caught this remark, and immediately retreated behind Darcy, as if she were a frightened child. Catherine colored in embarrassment, fearing that she had been too untoward; for she had been very giddy, and had forgotten to show her usual amount of reserve and awe towards her ladyship. Catherine looked down at her gloved hands, and paid no attention to the conversation, till she was suddenly addressed by Mr. Mulligan:

"Miss Bennet, you have made yourself quite a stranger this past week."

She looked up. "I'm very sorry for it, if I have! But as I said before, I meant to call while I was in the village to-day."

"Do you return to Hertfordshire soon?"

"Yes; in two days' time."

"So soon!" cried Edith with a frown, who had somewhat attached herself to the pretty Miss Bennet, though she knew her but little. "You can still come back with us. You haven't even heard the newest song that I learnt."

This, though the thought of the moment, did not end with the moment; it was agreeable to Catherine, and Elizabeth could find no objection to it, for she thought with satisfaction that her sister should want to make friends with a sensible man such as Mr. Mulligan, rather than be begging for a ball or the acquaintance of officers. The chaise would come to conduct her back to Pemberley, and she would be back in time to dine with her family. All the while Rosaline was looking about her anxiously, as if she wished to find some reason to excuse herself; and once all of the arrangements were sorted out, Rosaline was the first to lead the way to some other shop, while Catherine remained with Mr. Mulligan and Edith.

The former stood still for several moments, his eyes fixed on the departing party with a cloudy expression; but was startled out of his trance by Catherine saying:

"Well, shall we head to the parsonage?"

He nodded his head and they began to walk down the lane the opposite way that the Darcys and Lady Rosaline had gone, Catherine taking Mr. Mulligan's proffered arm, and Edith bouncing along beside her friend happily.

"It is a very warm day for January," remarked Catherine as the shops that marked the center of town dissipated, giving way to modest country cottages with their thatched roofs, tan stones, and wilted little gardens. This was met with murmurs of acquiescence, and other little comments on the weather; and then Edith began to speak of everything she had done since she had last seen Catherine at church, and this constant flow of conversation helped to lift the uneasiness that had settled over their small party.

When they at last reached Kympton Parsonage, Edith was eager to display her talents to Catherine, while the latter and Mr. Mulligan kept up small talk that had dominated the conversation walking to there. When Edith had played to her heart's content, she received some gratifying applause from her audience; and then she sat down next to Catherine, smiling and content. Catherine, however, had had a question that had been tugging at her mind for some time now; and so before she quite knew what she was saying, she had asked Mr. Mulligan:

"Were you acquainted with Lady Rosaline previously?—I mean, before Christmastide."

The addressed looked startled and slightly taken aback by the question; and there was a flicker of anger in his eyes: and Catherine was beginning to relent asking at all, recalling how easily he had been offended formerly. So she said nothing, and was quite ready to accept no answer; but after what seemed a longer pause than it actually was, he said:

"Yes."

Catherine nodded slightly, in order to gesture her willingness to drop the subject. So Mr. Mulligan segued into some other subject which they could all discuss with indifference, and Catherine happily contributed to it without ever alluding to the taboo subject of Lady Rosaline again, though she was to think of it for some time afterwards, conjecturing as to why there was such an uneasiness between the two; and every supposition always led back to one principle subject.

After three quarters of an hour, they could hear the sound of the carriage stopping in the lane; and Catherine bid her final adieux to the Mulligan household, promising to write to Edith, as she was not to see them again before she returned to Hertfordshire.

"But I shall come back again, hopefully very soon," she added somewhat cheerfully as she shook hands with Edith and Mr. Mulligan. Edith smiled widely at this hope of renewing their acquaintance. Edith showed her to the gate, and Mr. Mulligan handed her into the carriage; and with one final look back at her new friends, she was going down the lane, with the disappearing silhouettes of Mr. Mulligan and a waving Edith set off by the sun inching closer to the horizon. Then she turned round, and thought of packing and journeying and returning to the dreary place that was Longbourn.

Once the carriage bearing Pemberley's livery had gone down the hill and was out of sight, Edith and Simon turned back, walking up the gravel footpath to the parsonage house.

"I like Miss Bennet very much. I shall miss her sorely while she is gone home in something-shire," remarked Edith.

"So shall I," said Simon with a sad smile which Edith was not at leisure to observe, and then they re-entered the house.