6. A Second Glance
Chapter 6
A Second Glance
T he next day, I woke up early and joined Kitty as she prepared for work. Despite the state of Frances Street, Kitty made sure to always look prim, proper, and presentable in her chambermaid dress. I made us some eggs, bread, cheese, and we ate some pickled mangos before we departed. Together, we took the omnibus and we each got off near our destination. Kitty and I got off first, because the family that Jane employed under lived further in the depths of Milton.
Once we got off, we turned down a street and were met by a large rush of people who were obviously factory workers. We got caught in the rush and I felt as if I was fighting back a large current of a human wave. Kitty grabbed me, laughing, to keep me from falling over and getting trampled by the onslaught.
“Is it always like this?” I asked, holding onto my bonnet. I was more startled than I was upset by it. Kitty, on the other hand, was somewhat exhilarated.
“Yes, it is. They are on their way to work. It’s easy to get caught up in their mission.”
“You find it amusing.”
“I can’t explain it, but their frenzy helps me wake up. Besides, their chaos makes me appreciate things more.”
“In what way?”
“I could never see myself working in a factory. I’m sure that if I did, I would swallow so much fluff that I would be dead within half a year. I seek my luck where I may.”
“Luck?” I replied, arching my eyebrow. “I haven’t seen that word attached to our name in quite a while. Oh well, it’s good to know that it rests somewhere.”
Eventually we reached the hotel and called on the Hales.
“Miss Kitty!” Mr. Hale called to her when we met them.
“Mr. Hale,” Kitty replied, “we meet again after so long.” She embraced Margaret and Mrs. Hale, who both were happy to see her. While Margaret was always closest to Jane and me, she still did enjoy Kitty’s company. However, it was Mrs. Hale who doted on Kitty and favored her the most. Kitty’s lively spirit and voluble ways was always the sort of characteristics that leant itself toward Mrs. Hale and Dixon.
“How have you both been?” Kitty asked. “And did you bring Dixon with you?”
“They did, indeed,” Dixon replied, entering the parlor, “Miss Kitty!”
“Good ole’ Dixon,” Kitty said, kissing her on the cheek. “Still a rock?”
“I’m not a rock; I’m a boulder.” Dixon looked Kitty over. “So, you really are a chambermaid?”
“Well, I hate working, I don’t deny that. But I do find some amusement in it all. At a hotel, there are so many people to meet and tend to, that I am never bored or feel wanting in amusement. At home, whenever it rained severely, it felt as if we were always removed from the rest of humanity.”
“I know the feeling, my dear,” Mrs. Hale said, taking her arm in hers, “sometimes, when the weather was awful at Helstone, I felt as if the world was completely removed from me and as if I would never see another living soul outside of my window. But Kitty, how can you bear to live here? After seeing the beauties of the country and London?”
“I live and work here for one reason only,” Kitty replied, coughing a bit, and covering her mouth with a handkerchief, “because I have no choice.”
“And this place has given you a cough,” Dixon observed.
“I’ve always had a cough,” Kitty admitted. “It’s been my ongoing friend from one month’s end to another.” She looked at Margaret and me. “Only one good thing has come from now being orphans; mama is not here to complain about how my coughing vexes her.”
“She was annoyed by your coughing?” Margaret asked.
“Mama’s patience could be tried by the strangest of things,” I explained, “especially if she was already annoyed by something else beforehand.”
“Oh, how you both speak about your mother!” Dixon gasped. “Don’t go speaking meanly of your parents, god rest them, or it will come back to haunt you.”
“They don’t speak meanly of her, Dixon, but factual,” Margaret explained. “I’m sure that they do miss her, for all her characteristics.”
“True,” I responded. “Dixon, our household could teach you the beauties of laughing to ward off sadness and despair. Levity is our chief way of recovery.”
“Well,” Dixon said, pinching my cheek, “I will not deny the sense in that. See? I am not against learning new perspectives, for all that people say.”
“Dixon is very loyal to me,” Mrs. Hale said, “thus she has a natural inclination to mothers.”
“Anyone of common sense ought to,” Margaret confirmed, “Dixon, your words are safe from us.”
Kitty could not remain long in our company because she had to begin working. She left, to tend to cleaning rooms. When I saw her depart, I noticed that she fell in line with the other chambermaids with ease and walked away with them, engaged in friendly conversation and jokes.
“And to think,” I said to Margaret, “I pitied Kitty when I discovered what she had become.”
“And she doesn’t feel that way,” Margaret responded, watching Kitty’s light step as she departed. “She seems as if she was made for understanding the virtue of working for one’s money.”
“Virtue?” I laughed. “We humans, by nature, enjoy what we excel at, with as much ease as we can. Work is a necessity, not a luxury. Even you are aware of it.”
“Am I?”
I looked past her and at Mr. Hale.
“Mr. Hale,” I said, “forgive me if I am mistaken, but when you find that you could not remain in your present position, and began to take life into your own hands, was there a sense of relief on that score?”
Mr. Hale stuttered for a moment.
“Never fear, Mr. Hale,” I excused, “you do not have to answer that question. With such a query, it is hard to have words for an answer.”
“That is just the thing, however,” Mr. Hale responded, a little perturbed as he put on his coat, “I have the words, but was merely surprised at your suddenness and desire to care for how I feel. Come, I shall tell you all as we walk.”
He bade farewell to Mrs. Hale and Dixon, and he, Margaret and I left to go house-hunting.
As we walked along the Milton streets, I tried to be attentive to the street names, while also being an avid listener to Mr. Hale’s feelings.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Hale began, “it was more than just me uprooting my family from Helstone to this industrious town for the sake of rebellion. There was a desire for liberty involved, but it was done also as a matter of conscience.”
“You did not wish to swear to indoctrinations that you did not believe in,” Margaret clarified.
“Precisely. I could not and would not do it. The new bishop treated us like children and ordered us to reaffirm our faith in the book of common prayer. I know that it must look like I decamped, under a formality. But I could not live with myself if I adhered to it for the rest of my life.”
“Then you did want liberty,” I determined, “the right to order your life. You preferred that freedom over the freedom that comes with a steady living, where the work would continue to be a drudgery.”
“And how do you relate that to people not wishing to work?” Margaret challenged. “I await that connection. For Father goes from one profession to another.”
“He has to charge for lessons when he teaches, yes,” I determined, “but you always enjoyed teaching, did you not, Mr. Hale?”
“Yes, I do,” Mr. Hale acknowledged, “I confess to looking forward to this new experience that faces me here. To bring education to this place—I cannot deny that it might be difficult, at first, but perhaps that will enhance the adventure of it.”
“There, you see?” I said, triumphing over Margaret, “unless one does the vocation that gives them much pleasure, humanity would prefer to leaf and loaf as it wishes. That is the pain of having a profession, besides how society views it; finding work that you like—and that likes you in return. But if you can’t find that sort of line of work…emotional chaos!”
Mr. Hale and Margaret chuckled as we walked along.
After seeing a couple of establishments, both of which deemed unsuitable, Margaret was eager for us to separate.
“Let us split up,” she suggested, “Elizabeth and I will see this next house, and father, you can see the one on Hobson Street. This way, we can see more homes in an economical time.”
“Are you sure?” Mr. Hale asked her, with a raised eyebrow.
“We will be fine,” Margaret assured him. “It’s an economical plan. The more houses we see today, the sooner that we can get settled, and the less money we spend by staying longer at the hotel.”
“True,” he consented. Next, he got a protective look in his eye. “Are you sure that you can understand the directions?”
“If we get confused, we can ask someone,” I added.
“Please, do not go on any side roads, and be very careful.”
“We shall, Father,” Margaret assured him. “We shall see you again when we return to the hotel.”
“Very well.”
Mr. Hale nodded and left in the other direction.
“Two women on a destination,” I narrated as Margaret and I walked together, “in an industrial town where they have no familiarity with. How long do you think it shall be before we get lost?”
“Not long.” Margaret smiled. “But I’m determined anyway.”
“I know you are.” I chuckled.
While she didn’t laugh, her face was heavily amused.
We reached a second street and Margaret came to a revelation.
“Then again,” she said, “now is not the time to be proud.”
Following her lead, we went into a shop and asked for directions to the first street of the house we were to visit. The shop owner was kind, very good at explaining, and we were able to go to the next house with ease.
“Sadly, the rooms are too small, and mama would not like the view from the windows,” Margaret whispered after the proprietor showed us around the place. “It’s a pity because it works perfectly for our income. But still—I could not make her unhappy.”
“Where mothers and fathers are involved, matters never are simple,” I theorized.
“I would easily bet fifty pounds that they are saying the same thing about us,” Margaret responded.
“I am certain that they are.”
We turned onto High Street and began to walk down it.
“In Hampshire,” Margaret confided in me, “Thirty pounds a year would have been enough for a roomy house and pleasant garden. But here, two sitting rooms and four bedrooms are unattainable!”
“The shocks of being in a new place. The change of currency content can be extreme.”
“Yes, it can. I confess that I was not prepared for that, though I ought to have been. Or perhaps I am being too hard on my own ignorance.”
“We all of us are hard on our ignorance, from time to time. That is why I prefer not to think about more than I may.”
“How is your home on Frances Street?” she asked me. “Is it better than any that we have seen?”
I looked down at the ground.
“Jane and I have to share a bedroom.”
“And here I was complaining about four bedrooms,” Margaret responded, empathetic, “I am sorry, Elizabeth.”
“You ought not to be,” I assured her.
“But I do. One should not speak of one’s bad fortune when their companion must view you as spoiled by comparison.”
“If all of humanity did not complain about their lives, because of the comparison to others, the human race would lose the power of speech.”
Margaret smiled slightly at me.
“You are determined to save me from my own insecurities. I daresay, we might be the only true friends that I have ever known.”
“Truly?” I asked, with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes. Think on all the friendships that you have known. Have they ever been found in a disinterested sort of way?”
Suddenly, it began to rain slightly.
“Oh, dear!” I cried. “Well, nothing for it!”
Grabbing her hand, I ran toward the nearest overhang in front of a shop, and she allowed me to do so.
“Get yourselves in,” the shop owner said when he saw the rain getting harder. Having seen us from the window, he came to invite us inside, to take refuge from the deluge. We accepted, thanking him as we entered. It turned out to be a music shop and we were able to look around.
“Still play?” Margaret asked me.
“A little,” I responded.
“A little will always be more than me,” Margaret admitted.
“Do I detect regret, all of a sudden?” I asked.
“No,” she smiled gently, “and that is the wonder of it. With all my qualities, or lack thereof, I never regretted not being musical. Either way, my dancing abilities have not abandoned me, so I shall be content with that.”
We separated as we looked around the shop, content to admire the spectacles that lay before us, in the form of paper and musical notes.
“If one cannot claim familiarity with music,” I said to myself, “at least one can marvel at the beautiful image of notes on the page.”
Since the sky had turned darker, under the shadow of rainclouds, and mixed with the smoke that came from the mills, the windows grew darker, and it was easier to see the reflection of images behind you.
Faces danced across the glass as customers moved behind me, separate from the scurrying figures that were rushing outside, to seek drier places.
However, behind me one face fell upon the glass. Rather than moving back and forth, shopping for the right sheet music, it just lingered there, motionless.
Not turning around, the slight reflection arrested me, for I could sense a familiarity about it. The figure moved closer behind me, and I was able to get a better view of the face.
The face!
How could it be? And so soon! I was not prepared. How horrible that it must be for me. For him! For us both.
“Good afternoon, Miss Bennet.”
I turned around, my breath practically caught in my throat.
“Mr. Darcy.” I sighed. “Good afternoon.”
There, before me, was Mr. Darcy, the man whom I had rejected a proposal of marriage from months earlier.