Worldly Wiseman: How earnest thou by thy burden at first ? Christian: By reading this book in my hand. Worldly Wiseman: I thought so. - Pilgrim's progress, John Bunyan
Mary was beginning to understand what Georgiana found so intimidating about their cousin.
Despite her invalid state, Miss de Bourgh had pulled herself up onto her pillows and kept interrupting every few paragraphs to point out what she saw as theological inconsistencies in the text.
"How is it right," she asked in a cracked voice, "that a man should abandon his family and his community to embark on a possibly doomed attempt to find personal salvation? Would it not be more moral to stay behind and be a good influence on everyone else?"
"But then they would all be damned," explained Mary patiently. "By leaving, he set a good example, which inspired his family to go on their own pilgrimage."
"But that does not make any..." At this point Miss de Bourgh's body reasserted its dominion over her mind and she was overcome by a fit of coughing. Mary stared at her in shock while Georgiana rushed over and patted her on the back. After a few seconds Miss de Bourgh regained her composure and gestured for a glass of water before lying back on her pillows looking rather the worse for wear.
"Perhaps you should not exert yourself so," suggested Mary.
"Perhaps you should not choose such vexing books," replied Miss de Bourgh.
This struck Mary as deeply unfair.
Miss de Bourgh sighed and said, "No, no, that is not fair. I did say you could read whatever you liked." She rubbed her eyes and looked up at Mary with an expression more friendly but suffused with weariness. "Miss Bennet, were I in better health, I might enjoy arguing with you about the merits of whichever theological metaphors took your fancy. But given my current state I should probably stick to poems about daffodils and other such uncontroversial fare."
Talk of daffodils made them both turn instinctively to Georgiana, who smiled wanly and said, "Shall I read to you some more, then, cousin?"
And so they settled into a new routine. Georgiana spent her afternoons reading to Miss de Bourgh and her mornings practicing with Miss Bennet. Word had arrived that Kitty would be returning soon, and Georgiana had convinced Mary to delay their duet until then. As she admitted to Mary during one of their sessions, she appreciated having a guaranteed escape from the stressful attentions of her aunt and cousin. Even when they were not practicing, the two girls found many opportunities for conversation. Mary was not used to having someone express a desire for more of her company, and found she rather enjoyed it.
The imminent return of the younger Miss Bennet had affected Mary in another way. Lady Catherine had declared that Miss de Bourgh was too sick to be moved and seemed in no hurry to shift. Mrs Bennet had retaliated by stating her intention to stay on until she could "see her darling daughter again" (and, as she would say to anyone who would listen, to show she would not be scared off from her own daughter's house).
Mary accepted these changes with equanimity. Her bedroom offered a sweeping view of the woods behind Pemberley, and she spent much of her time there, reading or doing needlework.
She sat there one morning pondering the patterns formed by the wind as it played across the sparse leaves of the oak and ash. There was a sudden enthusiastic knocking at the door, and opening it she was surprised to see Georgiana, looking more animated than she had seen her in their entire acquaintance.
"There is a carriage," she explained. "Do you think it might be Kitty? I thought you would want to know. I am sure that if I had a sister I would be desperate to see her after so long a parting!"
"I am sure you would," replied Mary.
The two women walked down to the front room, where they were greeted by Mr Darcy.
"Is it Kitty?" asked Georgiana with great anticipation.
"I am afraid not," said her brother. "It is only the doctor."
Her face fell, and then she looked up and asked quickly, "Is Anne very ill? She seemed much improved yesterday."
"Oh no, there is nothing to worry about," he replied. "I am sure she will be fine. In fact, Lady Catherine suggested she ride with you and Mary after she sees the doctor. Anne has not had a chance to see the grounds of Pemberley since she was a girl. That is, if you would like to go.""Yes, of course," said Georgiana. "Mary has not seen all of Pemberley yet either; Elizabeth and I can never persuade her to come with us on our walks."
They both looked at Mary. She nearly went into her prepared speech about the dangers of too much time spent out of doors before realising they were asking for her assent, which she quickly gave.
Lady Catherine had a large and fine carriage, whose many features she proudly enumerated as they rattled past the doctor's carriage and down the path. She had placed Miss de Bourgh and Georgiana together in the back of the carriage, leaving the seat next to herself for Mary. For quite a while Lady Catherine busied herself by pointing out all the major features as they passed, with the occasional request for confirmation from Georgiana. But eventually she turned her eye upon Mary. "So, Miss Bennet," she asked, "how do you find living at Pemberley? I am sure you have never stayed anywhere so fine."
Mary thought for a moment. "No," she replied, "I have not."
"And I am sure you have enjoyed sharing the refined company of my niece and nephew."
Mary considered this too and somewhat surprised herself by answering, truthfully, "Yes. I have enjoyed my stay here quite considerably. When I leave I shall..." She stopped, unsure how to finish her sentence. From the other side of the carriage she was rewarded by a shy smile from Georgiana and a thoughtful expression from Miss de Bourgh.
"Well, if your sisters are anything to go by, I am sure you will enjoy being able to return to your parties and dancing. You will not find much of that sort of thing here."
"No," replied Mary.
"Oh, but Aunt," said Georgiana, "Mary does not dance. Well, I am sure she would dance if she was asked. But she is very kind and plays the piano so that others may enjoy themselves. Although I suppose she may miss that too..."
"Well," said Lady Catherine. "That may well be. You do certainly seem more dedicated to your music than your sister. I have noticed you practicing and I am glad of it. I suppose Georgiana has been a good influence there." It is perhaps a sign of how accustomed Mary had become to Lady Catherine's disdain for contrary opinions that she did not reply.
The carriage trip seemed to mark a turning point in Miss de Bourgh's recovery. Although Georgiana still read to her, she did so in a dimly lit sitting room rather than Anne's bedroom, and Miss de Bourgh even deigned to join the household in the drawing room for cards after dinner. Since Mary was not fond of cards, she still did not spend much time talking to Miss de Bourgh, but was glad to see her in better health.
Mary was not one for studying other people's characters. She liked to make sure of whether or not they were moral, and thus if they should be seen as inspiration or dangerous example, but beyond that was content to leave their motives unexamined and just take them as they were. She found it very difficult to explain or predict others behaviour, and saw no need to make the attempt.
She had thus not formed any very strong opinion on Miss de Bourgh. Despite intimidating Georgiana, she did not seem a bad sort of person, but she did not show any very strong signs of goodness either. She and Georgiana were working their way through some of the more recent works of Blake, which Mary was not entirely sure was appropriate, especially for a young girl. And while she had an enviable reserve, she was not quite able to mask her intense annoyance any time she lost a game, when seemed like unwomanly pride.
The only thing that made Mary genuinely curious was the fact that Miss de Bourgh seemed curious about her. She often noticed her staring calmly at her over her cards. When Mary stared back, Miss de Bourgh neither smiled nor looked away until she had to return to her game. It was very disconcerting.
Mary was thus not entirely surprised when Miss de Bourgh approached her and asked to meet with her after lunch.
Miss de Bourgh sat in a faded brocade chair facing away from the window. Mary sat herself opposite, and waited.
"Miss Bennet," began Miss de Bourgh, "you cannot fail to be aware that Miss Darcy does not enjoy my company."
Oh dear, thought Mary. She never knew how to deal with these sorts of situations. Should she lie? What could she say that would not get Georgiana into trouble with her cousin?
"This is understandable," continued Miss de Bourgh. "I do not always enjoy my company myself. But I also do not enjoy being forcibly reminded of my unlikableness every time I wish to hear some poetry. I know you like Miss Darcy, and so do I in my way, while as far as I can tell you do not find my company too odious to bear. I was hoping that between us we could organise some new arrangement to everyone's benefit."
Mary could see where this was going and did not like it. It was less that she minded the idea of reading to Miss de Bourgh and more that she resented the loss of her afternoons.
"How long are Lady Catherine and yourself likely to stay at Pemberley?" she asked, delaying the inevitable.
Miss de Bourgh looked a little surprised at this question, but did not hesitate in answering it.
"To be honest, I cannot say. I am as well as I am ever likely to become in a strange house. The problem is that my stomach is incredibly sensitive and unpredictable, and even with weeks of discussion with a good cook it is hard be sure of getting food that will not make me ill. To have this discussion for every meal, for days on end, is not something I approach with enthusiasm. And the ride itself is a strain, all those days cooped up in a tiny box. No, I do not know when we will leave."
"If there is no benefit in waiting, why not leave right away?" asked Mary.
Miss de Bourgh stared at her in frank shock. "Are you always this rude, Miss Bennet?"
"It is my opinion," she replied, "that honesty, regardless of public censure, is always the best policy."
"I am inclined to agree," said Miss de Bourgh. "Though I note that neither of us pursues this with much vigour around my mother. So perhaps my problem, then, is not that you express your opinions, but that they so clearly stem from nothing but pure selfishness."
It was Mary's turn to stare in astonishment.
"I have heard much of your moral readings, Miss Bennet. May I ask, for all your philosophising, when is the last time you took some action, unprompted by expectation, which was solely for the advantage of another, without any benefit for yourself?" Miss de Bourgh carefully lifted herself up out of her chair and went to the doorway. "I shall expect you here tomorrow afternoon," she said, and left.
Mary sat there for some time, trying to think of an answer to her question.