Hi, I have finished the new chapter. I hope it's fairly decent. Thank you for the reviews and to Margaret and kggirl21 for their kind words. To kggirl21, Eric and Molly aren't brothers, sorry :)

So without further ado...

Chapter 5

Miss Mary received an invitation to tea three days later. It was from Molly Bronhill. She accepted heartily. When she arrived at their residence, however, she noticed Molly was walking out of the house, tying up her bonnet.

'But aren't we having tea, Miss Bronhill?' Mary asked.

'Oh, Miss Bennet, I thought the weather was so lovely we'd much better have a walk.'

Mary acquiesced and told the carriage groom that she would return in an hour or so at the same spot.

'Do you enjoy walking, Miss Bennet?'

'Very much. I can clear my head better when I walk.'

'Clear your head? Do many ideas torment you?' Molly asked smiling.

'Well, there are so many things to think about.'

'And what do you chiefly think of, Miss Bennet?'

'Please, call me Mary. I like to think about God.'

'God?' Molly exclaimed, almost chuckling. 'Well, I admit I am religious, if I can say so, but I hardly ever think of Him.'

They stopped at a cake shop to buy two buns of chocolate which they ate as they walked around the town square.

'I mean there isn't a lot to think about Him since we know nothing for certain,' Molly explained.

'Oh, but there's a lot to know.'

'Pray how?'

'Well, everything in this world can provide it,' she said.

'You are a philosopher, Miss Mary,' Molly replied. 'I would like to be as fond of God as you are, but I get terribly bored during sermons.'

Mary had nothing to say to that.

'Tell me more of your sisters, Mary.'

'Well, the eldest, Jane, is the wife of Mr. Bingley.'

'That I knew. But what is Mr. Bingley like?'

'He's…well he's very friendly and kind, goes everywhere, sees everyone. He cares a lot for Jane. He treats everyone with the cordiality.'

'He sounds a bit boring, but do tell me more.'

'They live in Derbyshire, close to the Pemberley estate, where my sister, Elizabeth is mistress.'

'She is married to Mr. Darcy?' Molly exclaimed surprised.

'Yes.'

'Well, he is a fine man! Your sister is very lucky. I hear he has a great fortune and is very handsome.'

'Yes, I suppose he is. But he is very arrogant and proud, or at least he used to be.'

'Rich men can afford to be proud,' Molly replied.

'I don't think so. No one has the right to belittle others,' Mary contradicted.

'But power, Mary, you must admit does establish what is due to who.'

'Only on the surface,' she said nonchalantly.

'You have very firm beliefs for one so young. You'll change them when you grow older.'

'I hope not,' was the answer she received. Molly was disconcerted. Was Miss Bennet a pedant? No, she refused to believe that, just yet.

'Well, now that we have talked about sensible things, tell me, is there someone in Hertfordshire that you cherish?'

Mary hesitated. 'No, not really.'

'No one at all? Has no one caught your eye?' Molly asked amazed.

'Well, no, there aren't many young men anyway.'

'But you must have liked at least one young man!'

'I did once,' she said pausing. 'He was a clergyman.'

'And what happened to him?'

'He got married,' Mary said serenely, no trace of any feeling on her face.

'Oh, well…that must have upset you.'

'Maybe a little, at first. But then I never really knew him,' she replied.

'And you only like clergymen?' Molly asked, teasing.

'I don't know, probably not.'

'Well, on Friday we shall see each other at the ball. And I will show you some handsome fellows,' Molly said smiling.

'Oh, you don't have to show me, I will see them myself,' Mary replied bluntly. Molly smiled benevolently, thinking this young girl would get in trouble with that sort of speech.

Mary was very tempted to ask about the man called Eric. But she did not have the courage to talk about him.

'Will you be expecting anyone?' Mary asked finally.

'Pardon?'

'The man you like,' Mary explained.

Molly blushed deeply and looked away, saddened by some recollection.

'You put things very bluntly, Mary. I am not expecting anyone. Although, I confess I do like a young man. Only he is a very bad sort. I shouldn't like him at all.'

'Oh, who is he?'

'It doesn't matter, he is just a cad. You would despise him, Miss Bennet. You with your firm principles.'

'But you care about him, even so?'

'Well, maybe a little. But I won't very soon.'

Before they could continue the conversation, they were interrupted by the arrival of Molly's brother, who joined their walk.


On Friday, Kitty and Mary were getting ready to leave for the ball. Mrs. Smithson was making the last arrangements, fixing the last flowers in Kitty's hair and making sure Mary's hem wasn't stained.

'Don't eat too much girls, it is not couth or ladylike at all. Be careful with the dresses, don't get them dirty. And don't lose your fans, I bought them from France, they are worth a fortune.'

Mary was now seeing the first time the inadequacy of her dress. It looked very ill on her. She looked out of place, as if she was a peasant girl. Or some vulgar being.

'Mary, stop looking in the mirror so much, you're worse than Lydia,' Kitty muttered pushing her away to arrange her shawl.

'Well, I don't like the way I look,' she complained.

'You look fine. No one will notice if you don't look your best,' Kitty told her indifferently. 'It's a ball, there will be too many girls anyway.'

When the carriage stopped in front of the Ton, they got out quietly and followed Mr. and Mrs. Smithson up the stairs. The building looked like it needed new paint. The stairs and the banister were eaten by termites.

They walked into the entrance hall where the town's wealthiest families were receiving everyone with ceremony.

A butler presented them to the families and after they greeted each other and exchanged pleasantries, they were allowed to enter the Ball rooms.

The music was already playing, but no one was yet dancing.

Mr. Smithson quickly left the ladies to themselves and the three of them sought company with the Bronhills, who had arrived earlier and were already seated.

Mary tried to find Molly with her eyes but Mr. Bronhill quickly dispelled her hope, informing her that their daughter was having a bad spell and would absent the ball.

Mary sat down and looked around the room with curiosity. Everything was shining, from the tall red curtains, to the goblets of water. The chandelier was throwing rays of soft light on the people's faces. She heard the sound of dresses kissing the floor.

Mr. Bronhill the younger invited Kitty to dance and they repaired to the dancing room.

'Mary, go with your sister and sit about in the back. Mayhaps someone will ask you to dance,' Mrs. Smithson advised her.

'No, thank you, ma'am, I'd much rather stay here.'

'No, no you'd better go, I have many things to talk to Mrs. Bronhill and the other ladies.'

Mary had to oblige, though reluctantly.

She entered the dancing room which was already quite crowded with young couples and found a chair in the back.

As she watched the couples dancing, she couldn't help tapping her foot to the cheerful melody.

Suddenly, she noticed from the corner of her eye a small door opening and a little girl, holding a very large, heavy tray.

She looked far too feeble to be handling that sort of crockery. When she passed Mary's corner she managed to spill a bit of punch on Mary's dress.

'Oh, missus, I am so very sorry!' the girl exclaimed, bowing down with the tray. She tried taking out a handkerchief she had in her pocket but failed.

'Oh, Miss, let me clean it up!' she said hastily.

'Do not alarm yourself, you did no harm,' she said looking at the visible stain on her yellow dress. She took the handkerchief from the little girl and tried wiping it as best as she could.

'Here, let me take that tray from you.'

'No, Miss! I must do it, I am the maid. Mama put me in charge!'

'Yes, well, would you like to spill more punch on other young ladies?' Mary asked, smiling. 'Let me have it now. I will help you.'

She took the heavy tray from the little girl and walked with her towards the tables at the other end of the room.

As she set down the silverware and the cups, she couldn't possibly know that someone had observed her.

A young man had walked into the room, looking for Molly Bronhill. She was not there. He took out his pocket watch and sighed with boredom. He wondered why she had not come. Was she avoiding him at all costs?

Well, that was stupid and childish of her, he thought.

As he walked about the room, he noticed a figure in the back, carrying a large tray. She was wearing a very soppy yellow dress.

When the girl turned her head to look at the tables ahead, he recognized her face.

What a small world! So she is a maid! I assumed correctly.

He followed her to the tables.

'I am sorry, Miss? May I have a cup of punch?'

Mary looked up and almost dropped the tray. She quickly settled it on the table.

It's he! It's Eric. But what do I do now?

'Um, certainly Sir,' she said almost mechanically and took a glass.

'Thank you,' he said taking the glass. 'May I have the honour of your name?'

'I…don't give my name,' she said.

'I thought you would. After all, we've seen each other before, haven't we?'

Mary was panicking. The little girl had vanished into thin air. It seemed that she was all alone with him.

'I doubt it, although you look familiar,' she replied shyly and set about to arrange the silverware.

'You were the one eavesdropping, weren't you? You heard everything about me, didn't you?'

'Well no, I only heard very little,' she said, blushing. 'It wasn't my fault.'

'Yes, it was, it was very rude of you. Now tell me, what did you hear?' he asked, his tone light and playful.

'I heard what you said. You probably remember it better than I.'

'Well, you are a very impudent maid.'

'I won't tell anyone, if that is your concern,' she said looking at him.

'Oh, I had never even given it a thought,' he lied. 'But since you are offering so kindly…'

'I wouldn't have anyone to tell anyway.'

'Servants always talk among them. You never know.'

'Right, that is true. But I am a bit different,' she said.

'How do I know that?'

'Well, I guess you cannot. You will just have to take my word,' she said seriously.

He chuckled.

'Take a maid's word. Fine. Can I at least know what they call you?'

'Um…Mary.'

'Mary. Right well,' he said taking her hand, 'I appreciate your services, Mary.'

'Oh, and Sir?'

'Yes?'

'That woman, Miss Molly, as you called her, I believe she still likes you,' Mary said half-smiling.

He raised a brow, baffled.

'You were probably looking for her, weren't you?' she asked.

'Maybe I was. How are you so sure she likes me?'

'I just know, I have a vast experience of these things,' Mary lied.

'Yes I would believe that,' he said eyeing her suspiciously. 'Well, I can't take your word for more than one thing. Which is it; that you will not tell anyone or that Miss Molly likes me still?'

'Well, which is more important to you?' she asked.

He frowned, not knowing how to answer the question.

'I'd better go back to the kitchens now,' she mumbled embarrassed and bowed down, taking the large tray with her.

Eric watched her walk away with perplexity. But Mary walked away smiling.

She opened the small door and passed through it. She crossed the servants' hall and made a turn that led her to the back court. She leant against the wall, breathing heavily.