Chapter 21: In your presence

It was bright and early when Mr. Bennet left the Gardiners. Mary was up and about, attending to her father who had hired a coach to take him to Kent. Luckily, only Mr. Gardiner was awake and he was in no mood to inquire further into the business of this trip, which he supposed was only a departure to Longbourn.

He only advised her father to stay for breakfast as well, but he was not up for it and preferred to leave. Mr. Bennet felt at ease to have Mary close to him, helping him. He almost wished he could take her with him to Kent, but that would not have been fair to the young woman who had never really seen London. What was more, Mr. Collins was an acquaintance to avoid and the last thing he wanted was to make his daughter suffer his so called "sagacity".

She was sorry to see him go, she would have liked him to join her through the busy streets rather than the busy Mr. Gardiner, who had no time to accommodate her with the life of the city.

'Must you leave, then?'

'I'm afraid I must, Mary. I will be back at Longbourn soon…and I shall be expecting your return as well,' he said smiling.

'Promise me you will take care, father,' she said worried.

'Have I ever ignored my welfare? Why, I am a selfish man, I always tend to look after myself and my family first.'

'That is good to hear.'

'Now, you remember our secret, don't you Mary?' he said winking as he climbed in the coach giving her a last kiss on the forehead.

'I do, I will not let you down.'

'I knew you wouldn't,' he said gaily and waved at her as the vehicle departed.

'Be safe, father! Goodbye!' she yelled after him as the coach was lost in the morning dust of the streets. Her yells had perturbed the still silence of the day and some birds croaked agitated up in the sky.

The weather appeared to be bad, it was going to rain soon and her uncle abhorred walking the streets under the cover of cold drops; her aunt, as her duty had it, abhorred it too. Thus, inside they remained for the rest of the day, which did not disturb Mary much. Her heart was already filled with some worry and she sat reading, trying to make the thoughts go away.

At lunch she saw Anita for the first time since the day before and she could hardly face her, though the maid seemed completely unaffected. She knew Anita had not seen her watching that evening, but she still felt self-conscious. The maid was still a very sharp-tongued girl, her figure still swung indecently, her lips parted in a secret sigh sometimes, nothing was changed about her. Mary wondered why she should think something would have changed. It probably wasn't the first time Anita had done such thing.

At times she wanted to ask her whether she would marry that man, but even she knew that was far too naïve, so she ignored her as much as she could.

Mrs. Gardiner was occupied with sewing, her favourite activity and in the afternoon Mary joined her, having nothing else to do. They both sat in the pretty parlour, watching the passers-by from the wet windows as they rushed from work. She wished she could have been one of the passers-by, rushing so from toil, trying to get home to her family or to her faithful hearth. For she felt a bit useless, sitting there sewing for the "hamper of good will". This hamper went from house to house to each wealthier lady who improved it with cloth, poultry, medicine and all sort of trinkets that were then given to the poor. It was not exactly a hamper, it seemed more like a huge bag, but it was Mrs. Gardiner's turn and she would not draw back from her duties. She told Mary this custom originated from little hamlets and villages and had reached the big city, but Mary knew well this business, for she had to deal with it at home as well. The goods never really reached the poor, or only a quarter of these did and even fewer actually served the poor.

So she thought, it was wrong to sit there instead of taking what could be taken from the house and rush to the poor and give it to them, seeing their happy faces glow with glee. That way, she would be rushing too; she would be doing something useful.

'I hope tomorrow Mr. Gardiner will take you out,' Mrs. Gardiner spoke.

'I hope so too,' Mary agreed.

'You know, the streets are so clean after the rain, the air is so fine, all is well, but you need only wait. And I think the way we occupy our time is delightful, we do not make any waste.'

'Indeed,' she murmured carelessly.

'Maybe you would like to play the piano a bit.'

At this she looked up frightened as if someone had asked her to go shoot hares on the field.

Mrs. Gardiner sensed her uneasiness and patted her hand friendly.

'No worry, I won't be in your way! I was going to rest for a while, I am rather drowsy. I'll let you practice alone.'

This she agreed to, pleased, and was left on her own before supper.

The drawing room was well lit even if the skies were grey outside; the pianoforte seemed to be waiting for her. She saw some strange scores placed on its lid and she inspected them curiously.

She had never played such music before, the score was Vivaldi's. Italian composers were almost banned in Hertfordshire. She would never be allowed to play it at home, simply because so many ladies there were against any such "perversities". Handel's Messiah was their favourite and should it have been otherwise, the gossip and snickering would have been immense.

Mary seated herself on the stool and placed her hands rigidly on the claps. She still remembered how to play, she knew where every finger was supposed to be, she knew how she needed to move, like a gentle storm over her fingertips, but the music brought some challenge.

Eventually she started playing.

At first she made a great deal of mistakes and advanced roughly, having to stop every now and then and start again. It was not ambition that was driving her to try again after a new blunder. She simply had nothing else on her mind.

At length, she managed to play a good portion of it without too many flaws, or so she considered, though the warmth and suaveness that Georgiana showed when playing did not appear and was not felt.

Something was missing. She racked her brains at what it could be. With her thumb in her mouth she frowned at the score.

What was she doing wrong?

It always went this way. She was going too fast, she slowed down.

She was going too slow, she sped up.

But there was something else when all these chagrins were removed.

There remained something stiff in her performance. She knew she played like a statue. What was it that made Georgiana dive in her music so?

Maybe it wasn't the right material, but it was…it was Vivaldi, it was passionate and sweet, it was still proper.

She brooded over this silently and tried again.

When supper was ready she could sing a good portion of it with no flaw.

The stiffness remained.

That evening she dined, resentful. Resentful of other people's talent and easiness, of their gaiety which was felt in their music as well.

Somehow, Mary knew it had been a bad idea to play again. She had felt well, to be hugged by light and surrounded by clear sounds, but some pain remained and she urged herself not to continue. It was just one try.

The next day, the sun rose angrily and it was clear they could go off on another "excursion" through London since the weather had improved considerably.

It was so warm that Mr. Gardiner did not take his flannel with him, no matter how Mrs. Gardiner chided him. She always gave in to his wishes eventually. Mary was always angered to see this, but said nothing.

They set off around ten o' clock and Mr. Gardiner decided to take her to his office first. His warehouses were in proximity, he would show her those too. Mr. Toddler would probably be present to aid them, he seemed to be pleased to assist them.

'Mr. Toddler…he thinks you are quite something, Mary!' he said laughing as they exited the house. 'I daresay he will be thoroughly happy to see you have come to our humble abode.'

She said nothing, she barely knew him and vice versa, he did not know her one bit, but her good manners and her lack of superiority in her eyes had secured her his good opinion.

They needed to reach Theobalds Road which was some way off, but he insisted they walk. That way his niece could see more and be pleased.

Mary complied and was sure she would enjoy the visit.

She was partially right. They reached the office at twelve o' clock. That was because Mr. Gardiner had loitered a great deal on the way and Mary had been made to step into many shops.

They stopped in front of a green-painted building over which hung the black sign in silver letters "Gardiner's and Toddler's". It seemed desolate, but upon seeing some young men rushing to and fro inside she felt more secure.

The building had two floors and a basement where the cloth was kept. On the first floor some girls were hired to sew and spin the thread at some odd machines she had not seen before. There were only five and they did not look younger than sixteen, they were all cheerful and sang happily, dressed in white aprons.

The room was quite barren and cold, but the sun tried creeping in; no one protested, though. She saw all this in wonder before each girl smiled and bowed at her.

'We only have five, the best one's Martha Stamplow, she is the eldest, but we wish to hire more. We only do not know how to go about it. I've always dealt with the selling of furniture, I do not know much about this fabric business.'

Upstairs, they had their offices separately and had to do with orders. Here Mr. Gardiner was chief as Mr. Toddler only had authority downstairs; here he felt at home to talk to his helping boys and talk to the carpenters about the new pieces brought in.

They did not have many employees, Mr. Toddler was more thrifty, so he had an assistant, a pretty lady who helped him everywhere. He had tried courting her and only after six months did he find out she was married.

Mr. Gardiner did not bother with that, he was happy to work on his own with his boys. The warehouses were his favourite retreats. He liked to inspect them every day, to walk there and smell the fresh wood.

He led Mary on a tour there and even though they looked grimly on the outside, they were welcoming on the inside and luminous. Everything was clean and put up nicely, though the air felt damp. She looked around curiously, but avoided the stares of the young boys there.

Mary kept close to her uncle and after some time they went back to the office since there was not much left to show to a woman like her who had not much interest in trade.

At half past one Mr. Toddler arrived. He had gone to the bank on some errands, he said, but he was beyond agitated to see them there and sweated a great deal. Mary sat in the hall, next to the desk of his assistant and he invited her in his small study.

Arthur was so proud that he showed his yellow teeth in a large grin as she inspected the room, searching for something to pique her interest. He thought she was searching for something that was not in its place and he was relaxed to know everything was in order, but she still seemed dissatisfied.

Mary wrinkled her nose and did not say much. It was a small place but decorated so amply that it was obvious he was well-off. On his desk he had many ribbons, of all shapes and sizes.

'My passion is collecting ribbons. I always liked clothes when I was a child, especially my mother's since I was raised only by her. So I knew I would go into the business some day and I have not lost my old love. They are so precious! But you must like ribbons, don't you?'

A clever man would have observed Mary hardly ever wore ribbons, but she smiled mercifully and pretended to look them over interested.

He was beaming as he called Mr. Gardiner as well to show how Mary liked his ribbons.

After some time was spent idly, her uncle took out some notebooks and showed her how the orders were taken by letter and copied in registers. He showed her the bills and invoices, the way they were written prettily by one of the boys helping there. She thought with mirth she could have done that, she was good at algebra and her writing was even prettier, but the opportunity of working there appeared very grey to her.

If everything failed her in life she would try this, her uncle needed more girls downstairs after all.

At four o' clock they left the office and turned towards the city centre, but Mr. Toddler did not join them. He had to see his physician about a back pain which had been bothering him for a while.

They said goodbye and Mary thought they would be going home, since Mrs. Gardiner expected them with something to eat.

'Do not trouble yourself, she will be expecting us later. No, let us go on, I am not fed with walking. Why, I promised to take you to a law office as well, have you forgotten?'

'No, I have not, but we can go tomorrow…'

'And I think Mr. Prowler would be expecting us, we did not go yesterday, today would be polite to go, don't you think Mary?'

'Mr. Prowler's office? I don't think he'll want us there, he might be busy,' she tried.

'Heavens, no! It's Sunday, no one's busy on Sunday. The girls got off at three at my office, it's silly and they work on Sunday because they are too poor, dear girls. No, no one's really busy on Sunday, unless it's a life and death matter!'

Mary hung her head in protest, but there was nothing she could do, she didn't know the way back home, she could only follow her uncle.

They advanced further on Rosebery Avenue where Mr. Gardiner knew the lawyer worked and was in a very good mood, thinking they might even have some supper with him if they could convince him to leave his office.

'And you must help me do so, Mary,' he said merrily.

The place was quite deserted when they arrived and her uncle had been right, for only the lawyer himself and his clerk, a Mr. Croswell, a haggard old looking gentleman with pinched whiskers, were there to welcome them.

The building was not large, but very proud, erect and spacious as no other shop or house crammed it. It looked warm, but genial. The colours were pastel and dark here and there, the walls looked old. There was an entrance hall where one left one's coat and hat. Then one stepped in Mr. Croswell's office through which one had to pass to get to the lawyer's office, for they were adjoined by a wall and a black door made it possible for the clerk to reach his master.

Mr. Croswell was very kind, much to Mary's surprise, he treated James like the son he never had. She thought he would be bitter since he was witness to the wickedness of men and misfortunes of honest ones, but nothing seemed to affect him anymore.

He bowed deeply to both of them and saluted her uncle warmly, since they were good acquaintances.

'This is my niece, Miss Bennet. She was very keen on coming, you see, she was quite curious. She's the studious kind, reads a great deal,' he said to his friend who smiled politely.

'Very keen on coming? I have told you before that I am flattered Miss Bennet,' a voice spoke and when she looked at the door he was standing there, legs crossed and hands folded, peering at her and her uncle with a playful look.

Mary looked away embarrassed, it was her uncle who said so, but she still felt vexed. Her eyes fell on some paintings on the wall, but they did not show any proud men, they delighted her with some views of the country and of some lakes she felt she had seen before.

'Mr. Prowler, we have come you see, we have not forgotten,' her uncle said.

'And I am pleased you did, I knew you would come…after all, Miss Bennet is very curious as you said. Well then, let us walk in.'

She was ushered inside his office with her head down in shame, but as they stepped in she couldn't help looking up. The room was very simple.

Nothing adorned the walls, only sunshine crept in through some large windows in front of her. The curtains were velvety red, with no motif on them, but it still surprised her. The furniture was of mahogany but the walls were painted white. A great deal of books were scattered everywhere, in many cupboards and drawers. His desk was very neat, though. Only a case of cigars lay open on it.

She noticed no fireplace though there had been one in Mr. Croswell's office. He must have suffered in winter heavily, but he was probably used to it. Men had a strong constitution, it was preferable they learnt to bear the cold.

On one chest of drawers she saw many porcelain figures of young ballerinas. This was strange, did he like such figures?

Her questions were soon answered since he had noticed her stares and was only too happy to notice she felt unsure at not knowing something.

They sat down, but her eyes still wondered.

'The curtains were a present from Mrs. Croswell, she's a lovely lady who likes to make the place less morbid. I could not refuse her, I am quite fond of them. I bring a lot of my books here, at home they are too crowded. If I have room here, I take advantage of it. I apologise if some things here are in disarray, but it's more comfortable this way. As long as I have ample light, I am pleased.'

She nodded gratefully, but waited for him to explain more.

James was waiting for her to ask him, he wanted to see she was interested. Men always did when the object was their personal space.

She frowned when she became aware of this and coughed as way of starting.

'What about those porcelain figures, Mr. Prowler?'

He smiled and walked to them. 'They are the last thing I have left from my deceased mother,' he said shortly.

'Oh…' she uttered ashamed. 'I am sorry…to have mentioned…'

'It's quite alright, you could not have known. I must say, Mr. Gardiner, you have never asked me of them. Ladies have a knack for details.'

'Yes, yes, indeed, she is very attentive, she noticed my carriage had a bit of paint off in one corner. She has good eyes.'

'I noticed,' he muttered looking out the window. 'Well, you came to see a law office, so let me show you one…'

He went to a cupboard at the back of his desk and unlocked it, taking out some dusty files. He also unlocked some drawers of his desk to take out a book with grey covers.

'Come here, then,' he bade Mary with no shadow of jest.

At first she was reluctant, but his eyes fixed her questioningly and she obeyed. She stood next to him at his desk looking over the files he showed her. He was quite happy to show his work, especially his successes, which were many she admitted.

'This was three years ago, one of my first cases and my first serious one. It dealt with forgery, it was easy back then, I had more enthusiasm,' he muttered.

'And now?' she asked.

'Now, I have more peace of mind,' he said smiling. 'I deal with my customers promptly. Pragmatism is not a bad thing. Over the years you get used to some triviality. Not everything is an adventure.'

She nodded and looked on. He let her flip through each new case, let her see his notes to it and she smiled from time to time approvingly.

'I do not understand some things here…I am not really accustomed to jurisprudence, but I know Latin. Here you say "guilty mind", interesting.'

'Yes, the first thing one must say when dealing with crime is "actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea".'

'The act does not make a person guilty unless the mind is also guilty,' she translated nodding.

'Yes, quite so. I use this book whenever I forget something,' he said pointing to the book with grey covers. 'I have dozen others of its kind, but this one deals with the rarest possibilities, the law may have loopholes.'

'That's good,' she said taking the book in her hands. 'So you like working with the law?'

'It's what I am best at…I do not think I could have tried trades or anything of its kind. The thought does not tempt me,' he spoke looking at Mr. Gardiner as form of apology.

'Well, some people are not cut out for it,' she stated.

'Thank you for underlining the obvious, Miss Bennet,' he spoke cynically, smirking at her in his usual way which she did not stand.

'I am glad to see Mary takes an interest in anything, a woman needs to be knowledgeable, why, if her husband does so and so she must know what he is about,' her uncle said.

She frowned, angrily and tried to retort, but James touched her hand slowly and shook his head.

For some reason, she listened to him and remained quiet.

'Yes, a woman needs to be knowledgeable, married or not, human beings cannot bear the triviality of life without inner fortune,' he said and walked away from her.

I do not need him to speak for me.

But he had nonetheless. She felt a little bit grateful.

The rest of the hour passed in some small talk between the men as she sat and poured over the book he had given her. From time to time she would sneak a glance his way, but he remained with his back turned.

Suddenly, something caught her eye. It was a small piece of paper stuck between two pages. She took it out and hid it under her folds, placing the book on her knees as she read the note.

Thank you so much, Sir, for the wonderful roses. Mama enjoyed them so! I am glad to say she is much better now. Thank you for the kind visits, we expect you any time.

Geraldine Durant

She frowned confused, but said nothing as she bit her lip.

Miss Durant? Yes, I remember they spoke of their acquaintance at the wedding. He is courting her, I suppose. Well, it does not concern me.

And with that she put the note back and flipped the page, but for some reason she could not find focus to read anymore and shut the book annoyed.

At length, her uncle rose to go, he felt it was time and his stomach had started to rumble. She rose too and he looked up at her.

'I'll put those away, do not bother Miss Bennet,' he told her when he noticed she wanted to open his drawers.

'Oh, I am sorry,' she said and stepped away.

Does he know the note was in that book?

''Well, we're off to supper, aren't we? Haven't eaten all day, poor Mary, she must think I'm an awful host indeed,' Mr. Gardiner said.

'Oh, not at all!' she retorted. 'I am not so hungry.'

'I know a place right around the corner, they have excellent roast potatoes and pies. The price is decent, I often eat there when I cannot get home early. If you wish, you can dine there.'

'What a superb idea! This was Mrs. Gardiner will not have to worry herself too much about the pheasant she wanted to have tonight. But you must join us, Mr. Prowler,' he said gaily.

'Oh, no, I could not intrude, it will be a family dinner.'

'Nonsense! We could always use someone else to keep us company and you have been so kind with us, isn't it so Mary?'

They both looked at her expectantly and she suddenly felt angry.

'Well, if the decision depended on me it was obvious Mr. Prowler wanted to come, that is why you asked this knowing I would be polite and agree, so why should we bother with this?' she asked defiantly.

James grinned as Mr. Gardiner stared at her.

'Well, Mary, the gentleman was only trying…'

'It's alright, I am already persuaded,' James said sarcastically opening the door for them.

'Isn't it very grand, Mary?' her uncle asked her as they ate their meal peacefully next to the window. The public house smelled of burnt cinder and hay, but it was not a bothersome smell, it even encouraged good appetite. It was cosy, but not too hot inside and the crowd was dwindling slowly, so there would be more room soon.

Angus, the barman, nodded from time to time their way smiling. He had rough red hands and queer blue eyes, but he wasn't Scottish as she had guessed, he was French.

'A former client…' explained James. 'He always lets me have half-price dinners. For lunches he gives me an apple on the house sometimes.'

'I see you help all walks of people, Mr. Prowler,' she spoke, but immediately regretted it when she noticed it sounded arrogant.

'The benefit of helping commoners is something you perhaps have not enjoyed, Miss Bennet,' he replied coldly.

'What I meant was that…' she tried, but was rudely interrupted.

'I receive orders from lowly people myself, but the barman seems a very good sort,' her uncle butted in.

'I do not doubt it,' she said loudly. 'I simply thought that what with your success, Mr. Prowler…'

But the man decidedly ignored her excuses and went on eating quietly.

In the last half-hour she had experienced much vexation and she suspected she would still.

'Have you gone to church this morning, Mr. Prowler? We did not have time to attend,' spoke Mr. Gardiner.

'I'm afraid not, Sir. I am not in the habit of trusting church too much. I admit it's an admirable institution, but easily corrupted,' he spoke.

'So then, you're an agnostic,' Mary quickly said.

'I did not say so, but you are right, Miss Bennet. And what of you? Are you a loyal Presbyterian?'

'Surely not…but I am certain of the existence of God. I…I attend church with my family, it's very pleasant early in the morning. We are friends with the reverend. He does not think highly of agnostics. He says they avoid all responsibility,' she said stumbling over her words.

'And what do you think, Miss Bennet? Do you preach the same singsong?'

'I agree with him; people should heed to their creed and stand up for what they believe in.'

She did not know why she had replied so, but something about his inquiry upset her. She had lied, for she did not have anything against agnostics, but she protested nonetheless.

'Ah, I see, another idealist. You say that to yourself, but you do not really keep to it, do you?'

'I certainly do, I believe everyone should…'

'And I do not stand up for what I believe in?'

'Well, what do you believe? You do not believe in His existence, but you do not believe in His inexistence either.'

'That's right, I see nothing against it.'

'But it's ignorance. You do not really stand up for anything. If someone tells you they are fanatics you nod your head, if some tell you they are heretics you nod your head. That's not the way to go about it.'

'And what do you expect me to do, then?' he asked a bit cross.

'You cannot worm out of responsibility by pretending to be neutral. Some do this so they cannot be accused of anything by those who adhere to a certain creed.'

'Miss Bennet, this is a creed and if you are not tolerant enough to see that, it is your issue, not mine.'

'Tolerance?'

'Yes, you do not show so much of it.'

'Now, now, what's this talk of religion at the table! Quite troublesome, let's have with it,' Mr. Gardiner intervened as he folded the newspaper he was looking through. 'Mary, dear, it's not polite to have such talks when eating.'

She bowed her head in submission and kept quiet. Yet she felt guilty.

Why had she stormed at him like that?

'I apologise, Sir, I have nothing against agnostics,' she said after a while humbly.

'No, Miss Bennet, you just have something against me,' he said looking away and making sure only she heard him.

'That's not…'

'But I couldn't care less,' he replied.

Now she felt truly guilty and wanted nothing more but to get out of there and run home to Longbourn. She was such a silly girl, after all.

'I do not want you to think I have such ill manners,' she tried again.

He nodded and borrowed the newspaper from Mr. Gardiner.

They did not exchange another word for the rest of the meal and so it passed miserably for her whilst she struggled between anger and regret.

Some time passed before they left the public house and when they stepped outside the sky was already half-dark, sending some red rays of dusk in their way. The light fell on her shoulders which sagged as she looked down pensively.

She noticed her uncle and James were still talking, but she tried not to listen to their gab, she fixed her eyes on the dust.

Suddenly, she felt a sweet pain and when she looked up he was holding her hand, intending on kissing it.

'Do not be too miserable, Miss Bennet, I can easily forgive your daftness for one evening. Goodbye!' he said and dropped her hand, leaving her.

She looked after him as he hurried away, his coat billowing behind him. She was now alone in the street with her uncle.

Daftness! How shameful…well, he provoked me!

However, she could not quite convince herself of that and she decided not to think of it anymore. All she wanted now was to go to bed and she trod away with Mr. Gardiner back home.

The next day went peacefully by, she thought, for she did not go out of her room much, only kept company with her books. She did not wish to study, she could not keep focus. Instead she delved into Oliver Goldsmith's "The Vicar of Wakefield", hoping to regain her disposition soon.

Her uncle was busy at the office and could not walk with her that day so she stayed in with her aunt who seemed upset at knowing Mary's plans had fallen through because of that.

She was telling her so that afternoon as they were having tea, but the girl was pleased not to have to go out, she did not feel up to it.

The room was warm, she felt cosy, she did not wish to get up soon, yet Mrs. Gardiner's buzzing was disrupting her.

'How unfortunate that it's Monday and it's always a busy day, you know. But how unfair for you! After all, it's not every day you come here and look how we treat you.'

'I am very comfortable, thank you.'

'And probably bored to death! I thought I should send my husband a note, but I think he will not forget of you entirely, I am sure! If he cannot make it, he will…'

But here she was interrupted by a sudden heavy knock at the door. Both ladies looked up and Anita, as expected, went to open the door.

'Mr. Toddler, Missus,' Anita announced.

Arthur Toddler entered the parlour looking as if he had run all the way there, his locks wild on his forehead.

'Good afternoon, good afternoon!' he bade them, taking off his hat. 'How good to …to have found you, how good.'

'Mr. Toddler, how do you do? You have finished work early?'

'I have Mrs. Gardiner, I have, but p-poor Mr. Gardiner still has to be at the warehouse, but…but he enjoys it, so I was sent away.'

'And you came to see us, how kind of you! I was just about to tell Mary if my husband could not entertain us, maybe you would.'

'H-how you guessed my thoughts!' he spat agitated. 'Mr. Gardiner told me how...v-vexed he felt at leaving Miss B-Bennet home so he asked me if I could and…and of course, it is my pleasure.'

'Pardon?' Mary asked confused.

'W-Would you like to go on a w-walk with me, Miss Bennet? I have my carriage outside.'

'Oh, how wonderful! Mary surely would like that, wouldn't you?' Mrs. Gardiner asked delighted.

'I…yes…that would be nice,' she replied unsure. 'Give me some minutes, Sir.'

She left the room promptly to fetch her bonnet and Mr. Toddler bowed as she passed him.

'But please, sit down, Sir!' Mrs. Gardiner pleaded making room on the plush couch.

'Oh, I couldn't. I've s-sat all day…'

The wait took longer than expected and he decided after all to sit down, but no sooner did he place himself near Mrs. Gardiner, than Mary came down and was ready to go.

He rose embarrassed and hurried to open the door for her.

'Enjoy yourselves!' Mrs. Gardiner called from the door as Mary was being led to his vehicle.

They climbed in and the coachman pulled the reins as the two sandy horses trotted on the pavement.

'You look q-quite pr-pretty Miss Bennet,' he said at length when fifteen minutes had passed in silence.

All this time she had looked out the window pensively. At his remark she turned her head surprised.

'You exaggerate immensely, Sir, or are too kind. I am rather a plain sort.'

'That's…that's not true, I know a p-plain woman when I see one.'

'Then she is standing in front of you. But I do not care much for this, I would rather be complimented for other things.'

He looked at her worried as if he had made a mistake.

'Th-then please, tell me…what do you wish me to c-compliment you on?'

She almost laughed at his naïve question.

'Do not bother, Sir. Compliments come naturally from the heart, they are not studied, you have to admire a quality first in order to single it out.'

'I…I understand…well I see…I see that you are p-pretty.'

Mary shook her head amused, but chose to say nothing. He was such a shy man she could barely make him see logic.

'Tell me more about yourself, Mr. Toddler, for you are very mysterious, I dare say,' she said.

He instantly smiled, happy to oblige for he needed guidance in order to spark up a conversation.

'I..I am a very simple sort of man. I enjoy my work very much…I have a h-humble home and I live alone with…with my dog, she's a bitch, her name is C-Clara.'

'Pretty name for a dog…'

'Y-yes, I named her after my sister. She lives in Nottingham. I have two maids and…and I like to d-dine with m-many, I do not like to dine alone.'

'No one does at times…but what do you like to do, besides work?'

'Well…I've told you I collect r-ribbons. I've always b-been good at backgammon and enjoy reading on politics. But I...I do that because every gentleman must. Yet I h-have a secret partiality to music.'

'Oh, you do? How good, I enjoy music as well, everyone should, it's part of life.'

'Y-yes, I agree. But my fellow tradesmen laugh at me…They say I indulge in s-stuff that's not worthy of me.'

'How foolish and nasty of them! Not everyone can indulge in something as refined as good music.'

'I agree…I enjoy concerts…I like to h-hear people play. D-do you play any instrument, Miss Bennet?'

She paused.

'I do. I play the piano, but not so well.'

'Oh! How…how charming! How knowledgeable you are! B-but then I wish to hear you play.'

'I doubt you would enjoy it, Sir. I am not a great proficient. You might want to reconsider.'

'H-Heavens no! I would thoroughly like to hear you play, M-Miss Bennet. Please, honour me that p-pleasure!'

'I do not suppose I could in any case.'

'Mrs. G-Gardiner has a pianoforte. That little drawing room is absolutely charming, it w-would do.'

'It's true, but I do not know if Mrs. Gardiner would allow it…'

'Nonsense! I…I will w-write to her, she always wanted to h-have another gathering in the drawing room, e-ever since New Year's eve.'

'That's really not necessary…'

'T-Think nothing of it!'

She tried persuading him otherwise, but in this he was as stubborn as an ass. He kept on saying he would love to hear her play and there was no end to it, until she nodded resentfully.

There she was, trapped to play for an audience once again.

And what if she made a fool of herself like she had at the Netherfield Ball? That had been horrid, indeed.

She tried telling herself at least the audience would not be so displeasing.

He went on to talk of his business more and forgot all about music. Since he was trying so hard to be liked she listened to him patiently and replied properly. He was so delighted with her knowledge that he praised her continuously.

As time flew by, Mary would turn her head more often to the window to look at the dull streets, since she was getting quite tired of this ride. She enjoyed walking, but Mr. Toddler apparently had no wish to do that.

She did not even remark they had stopped all of a sudden.

'Please excuse m-me for a while, I shall be back in a minute,' he said and with that he stepped out of the carriage and left her alone.

She stood waiting for him, with her head leant against the window. It was more refreshing and less exhausting to walk, she discovered. She felt almost encaged. Only long journeys should be spent this way.

She saw him leave a building, followed by a taller man with dark hair.

They paid their adieus as Arthur hurried back to the carriage.

'Well, well, well, if isn't Miss Bennet in Arthur's carriage!'

She looked alarmed out the window. The figure laughed.

'Mr. Prowler!' she almost yelled at him.

'Good afternoon to you too, Miss Bennet.'

'I w-was giving the lady a ride…' explained Arthur as he climbed in.

'How nice of you, I bet she was such a bore until you came, Sir. Well, enjoy the ride,' he said bowing mockingly.

She wanted to reply, but he stepped in again and was gone.

Why does he have to be so fickle and rude?

'W-Well, Miss B-Bennet, where do you wish to go further?'

'We should return, Sir, it's getting dark,' she said and turned her head upset.

Mr. Toddler fidgeted nervously and bade his coachman to return to Southwark Street. All the way back he tried to ask Miss Bennet of her sisters more, but he was not so successful.