Chapter Eight #3
Lizzy turned and looked at them, tipping her head to one side like a bird and considering them. Finally, she said, “The owls are sleeping and have not budged, so I will go and rescue Mr. Darcy from Harry. Remember there are refreshments at one. Listen for the stable clock.”
“We will,” Mary promised. They turned and began to walk away.
“Will we hear the clock if we walk into the home wood?” Georgiana asked.
“There is a path that runs parallel to the wood perimeter. We will be able to hear the clock as long as we do not stray further into the wood,” Mary informed her. She indicated the direction they should walk, and they fell into step side-by-side.
Georgiana glanced her way, trying to see her expression. However, Mary’s floppy garden bonnet blocked Georgiana’s scrutiny.
“We are friends, now, are we not?” Georgiana asked.
Mary nodded.
“I heard you sigh, just now, and I thought to ask if something is amiss?”
Mary pushed a lock of golden-brown hair back behind her ear and bit her lip.
“Something is the matter, I can tell. Pray, are you sad about something?” Georgiana asked. She pressed a hand against her chest. “Oh, dear. Perhaps I should not ask something so personal. But…you see, I am often sad, too.”
Mary frowned and stared up at her, clearly surprised. “I am sorry.”
It was Georgiana’s turn to shrug. “Thank you. How old are you, Mary?”
“Eight-and-ten.”
“I am not quite seven-and-ten. Are you worried about your come out?” Georgiana asked.
Mary shook her head. “I am already out. We all are.”
“Five sisters, trying to find husbands at the same time,” Georgiana said in hushed tones. Then, she heard Mary swallow a sob. “Goodness, Mary. What is it? Please, tell me.”
Mary drew a ragged breath and flapped a hand, seemingly unable to speak.
Georgiana searched her brain to try and come up with a reason for Mary’s distress. She considered her own situation but did not think their experiences could be the same. However, perhaps Mary’s unhappiness was about a man.
“Is there some gentleman whom you admire?” Georgiana asked. “Someone… well, inappropriate?”
Mary grimaced. “It is not quite so bad as that. Not exactly.”
They entered the home wood and turned aside their feet from the main path to the parallel one. A light breeze rustled the leaves. Birds sang, and the bleating of sheep and goats could be heard from the home farm.
Mary tangled her fingers together as she wrung her hands. “This is quite a secret, mind.”
“I will never speak a single word to anyone about your confidences,” Georgiana swore. She earnestly clasped her hands to her chest. “I swear it.”
After taking a deep breath, Mary began her tale of woe. “Twice a week I volunteer at St. Michael’s Infirmary and Sanitorium in Meryton. I would go more often but Mama forbids it. I go on Thursday mornings and Sunday afternoons.”
“What do you do there?”
“I am not permitted to do any nursing, so I read to the patients. Sometimes I write letters for them. Not everyone has family to visit them, you understand, so I visit with them,” Mary explained.
Georgiana nodded to show she understood, and Mary continued.
“I read the newspaper, periodical articles, or poems. On Sundays I always read from religious tracts or from books of sermons.”
“That is lovely, charitable, work,” Georgiana praised. “Is that where you met your gentleman friend?”
Mary nodded, and shrugged, tears threatening, and then shook her head.
“Is he a doctor?” Georgiana ventured. She took Mary’s arm and squeezed it reassuringly as they slowly walked.
“He is a junior doctor,” Mary explained. “He is finished his schooling—he studied in Edinburgh. Now he works in his father’s practice here in Longbourn Village, and attends the patients at St. Michael’s.”
Georgiana frowned a little. “Then, you must have known him for some time?”
“All my life,” Mary said simply. “We all used to play together when we were children. He is an only child.”
“Is he…interested in you?” Georgiana asked hesitantly, steeling herself for the answer.
Mary shrugged and shook her head. “He speaks kindly to me, but…but he has never given me a reason to believe that he cares for me beyond neighborliness.”
“Would your parents object if he wanted to walk out with you?”
“I do not know. He is quite penniless. Not destitute, but I do not think he has the means to support a wife. Perhaps one day, but who knows when? My mama wishes us to marry…money.” Mary gulped and sniffed.
“To be fair, she only wishes us to be comfortably situated. Mama will be happy if we can find gentlemen with an income of at least a thousand pounds per annum. Our portion is tiny.” She pointed into the woods.
“Look at that red toadstool. How brilliantly polka-dotted it is—and quite poisonous.” Mary leaned her head against Georgiana’s arm, pushing her floppy bonnet off her head.
Georgiana felt the rush of warm harmony toward her new friend that comes when fellow-feeling is present.
“The toadstool is a magnificent size.”
“Hmm. What about you?” Mary asked, standing straighter. “Is there a gentleman you like?”