A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who is following along on Mary's journey! Reviews are always greatly appreciated :D
And now, finally, introducing the annoying side characters which are obligatory for any Jane Austen novel...
Chapter 4: A Social Call
Though Mary had already begun steeling herself for her inevitable acquaintanceship with the Benson sisters, she was, in actual fact, obliged to make it unexpectedly soon, for they came several days hence for an afternoon visit to Pemberley, 'expressly,' as they said, 'on account of meeting her.'
Lizzy was out for the afternoon, and was unable to attend, leaving only Georgiana and Mary to welcome them to tea.
They were much as Mary should have pictured them to be, and much as she had dreaded. They were both of them striking, possessing an icy, indifferent beauty consisting of graceful angles and most attractive, winsome smiles. Their dress was no doubt in the latest fashion, and most carefully selected, but was nowhere near as elegant or reserved as Georgiana's and Lizzy's was wont to be, and rather teetered on the precipice of garishness. They laughed excessively and charmingly, praised Georgiana and condemned themselves most harshly, only to receive assurances that they were of no lesser merit or accomplishment.
"But of course, it is Georgiana who is the true virtuosa of our little stretch of England, for I but warble like a little hatchling swallow," a tinkling laugh to follow, "do I not, Charlotte?"
And Charlotte would nod her head vigorously, her most perfect blonde curls trembling with agreement, and would reply tremulously, "Oh, yes, I'm afraid neither I nor Emma have talents of any equal to Miss Darcy, she is simply the talk of the neighborhood."
And Georgiana would protest, and tell them that 'certainly, they were both such gifted singers, and she had already heard from many who were so looking forward to hear their performance at the dinner party.'
"Oh, my dear Georgiana, surely you see how I can hardly believe you!" Emma exclaimed, "For I know how kind of heart you are, and that you would gladly say such things for the sole purpose of furnishing me with solace and false assurance. You are too kind, my darling, simply too kind."
And Georgiana would have to insist most determinedly that she spoke only the truth, and that she herself thought Emma to be of exceeding accomplishment, until at last Emma would concede, thoroughly pink with gratification and smugness, that she supposed she had often been complimented on the clarity and strength of her voice, and even if it were not too exceptional, at least the pleasure she derived from performing was exceedingly dear to her.
Mary watched all this as an observer of a well-rehearsed play, and found herself generally and happily ignored by the Miss Bensons in favor of Georgiana, whom they fussed and cooed over most emphatically. They insisted she should try on one of their new bonnets, and when she did, were simply astounded at how well it suited her, and promised most ardently to send for another one from their favorite shop, so she might have her own in the same style. They had her twirl for them to demonstrate her new dress, which they evidently had not before seen ("so graceful and bewitching, do you not think, Charlotte?" "Oh, yes, you are growing into such a beauty, Georgiana, dear!"), had her fetch her painting from last afternoon so that they might admire its textures anew, and had her play a charming little ditty on the pianoforte, for Charlotte had been simply dying to hear it once more, and could not bear to wait till the party.
"Do you know, however, who shall be most pleased to hear you playing at the dinner party, Georgiana?" Emma said, with a dramatic pause. "Our dear brother Edmund. In fact, Charlotte thinks it is the express reason for his early return from London."
For the first time since their arrival, Mary saw a deep unhappiness cloud Georgiana's face, and though she could not begin to fathom its true cause, she knew at least that it was tied to the brother Mr. Benson, and that the Miss Bensons were not unsurprised to see it, and had of all likelihood mentioned it for the express purpose of exciting such distress.
Feeling she was the only one present who might come to Georgiana's defense, and thus feeling obligated to do so, Mary set upon changing the subject, and spoke unsolicited for the first time since their arrival: "In my opinion, the greatest pleasure one should derive from performance is not of others' praise, nor of their approval, but rather a pride, and a healthy dignity, in one's own accomplishments. Otherwise, one runs the risk of being only ever as pleased as their own audience."
The Miss Bensons both started, for it seemed they had forgotten her presence; or at the least, had certainly endeavored to forget it. Thus far, they had only obeyed the barest decorum dictated by first meetings, making only the usual polite pleasantries, and submitting some vague, half-hearted questions on how long she planned to stay in Pemberley, and was Hertfordshire not rather nice this time of year, they had never been themselves. But whatever answers she gave where clearly of no particular interest to them – or perhaps she had been in some sense doomed to bore them before she even spoke, for they had surveyed her charcoal dress and pale visage most unsympathetically when they first entered.
But now, unexpectedly, they were forced to attend to her, and to readmit her to their discourse, albeit quite reluctantly, which was shown briefly in their countenances.
Georgiana too had been surprised by Mary's contribution – but not displeased; rather, relieved, in that a foreseeably unpleasant conversation had been avoided at its inception, and grateful, for its diversion, to Mary. And in her gratitude, she agreed most earnestly with her, "Yes, I cannot disagree in the slightest, I find myself that I have as much keen satisfaction when I am playing alone as when I am playing before others, when I find I have mastered a complex piece or particularly challenging phrase – even more satisfaction, perhaps, when I play alone, for I am not looking to the approval of onlookers, and am content by my own judgment."
And in agreeing so emphatically with Mary, she found herself unwittingly (and perhaps for the first time) displeasing the Miss Bensons, who felt it to be a jibe to their vanities, which, however potent they might be, they preferred to preserve illusion of not possessing; and though Georgiana was fully unaware of the offense which she inflicted, Mary was observant to it, and felt their displeasure turn towards her, who had the gall to steer the conversation in this unapproved direction.
"I suppose, Miss Bennet," Emma said, "it might indeed be best for some to not depend upon the approval of their audience." The cool tone of the comment could not be misconstrued – the unexpected offense from their docile Georgiana had sufficiently ruffled, and had momentarily revealed the contempt that lurked beneath the attractive phrases and charming smiles – even Georgiana started at the unfamiliar coldness. Emma was directly aware of her mistake, however, and covered it with her tinkling laugh, so charming and genial that it was quite difficult to imagine one had not simply misinterpreted her inflection, and so Georgiana was quickly soothed – but Mary certainly was not.
"I do so look forward to the dinner party," Charlotte resumed their discourse. "May we hope to find Mr. Crawford in attendance?"
Mary felt her cheeks redden slightly at his mention, but mercifully it seemed she had been once more disregarded at the preference of a more engaging topic, and the Bensons gave no notice to her.
"Indeed!" Emma chimed in, "he has always the most fascinating stories to share from his days abroad."
Georgiana conceded that he had most interesting stories, and that he was sure to attend their dinner party.
"But do you not find him particularly charming?" Emma pressed Georgiana, her tone most innocent, and eyes wide with youthful ingenuousness. "He pays such attentions to you, Georgiana, and certainly, why should he not? A more clever, educated, pretty girl than yourself he is hardly likely to find, even among his smart academic set in London."
"Oh, certainly, most attentive to you, dear," Charlotte agreed sweetly, to which Georgiana blushed perplexedly, and murmured some unintelligible, embarrassed response, and the Benson sisters were pleased with their handiwork.
Mary gathered that such topics of attachment and courting were unfamiliar and upsetting to Georgiana, and that had Elizabeth been present, it should have been a topic which would not have been broached. Distracted as she had been upon their first meeting, Mary could recall no particular warmth or attachment which Mr. Crawford had bestowed upon Georgiana then, nor which she had bestowed on him; and while such matters of the heart lay inevitably out of her purview of discernment, she could not imagine that any of the Miss Bensons' comments, whether true or not, were made for Georgiana's benefit, but rather purely for their own mean amusement.
Emma and Charlotte were preparing to take leave. "You do not think, Georgiana, that we might stroll the gardens some half an hour, and stop in on Mr. Crawford to give our regards? It has been some time since we have visited, and I do so enjoy seeing his illustrations as he works."
The invitation was not, as it stood, extended to Mary; but Georgiana turned to her without hesitation and asked, as if they were already most intimate friends, "Should you care for a walk, Mary?"
To think now of Mr. Crawford brought up within Mary a mixture of embarrassment and aggravation, and to meet him again so soon, and under the observations of the Miss Bensons, would have been quite miserable.
"I am afraid I was just in the midst of writing a letter to Longbourn, which I am already several days late in posting, and which I must finish today," she said tautly.
"Oh," Georgiana said in such earnest disappointment, that it made Mary suspect perhaps she was herself reluctant to go, on account of the awkwardness arisen through Emma's pointed remarks; but it was too late to alter her response, and Georgiana was swept up between the two sisters, who were chattering already on plans of a trip to some coastal town, for it had been so long since something novel had happened in Derbyshire, and they should so desire a change of scenery, and wouldn't it be great fun to gather a group for the trip?
Mary retired to the library upon their departure, and, as prophecies are often wont to become self-fulfilling, began to pen an obligatory letter to Longbourn.