Section I, Next Section
Part 1
It was a sunny, warm May morning on Abbey Mill Farm. In fact, it was one of the first really fine days this year. Soon after breakfast, Elizabeth Martin took one of her books and went out, heading for the summerhouse by the river.
A lot of things had changed during the past months. Robert and Harriet had married last September, and Cathy had married George Mason in March. It made Elizabeth happy to see that her brother and sister got on very well with their partners, but their respective marriages had changed her life, too. Sometimes she felt left out, and she envied them their happiness. There were days when she felt very lonely.
Harriet was still her friend, they got on very well, but she hardly ever had time for Liz. This was only natural, the duties of housekeeping kept Harriet busy, and so she was sometimes quite happy to sit there and enjoy the sweetness of doing nothing. But Elizabeth felt that their friendship had changed. Robert was now the most important person in Harriet's life, and that filled Liz's heart with jealousy sometimes.
Robert, too, had changed. He had always been a very responsible and sensible man, but his being married had made him even more so. There were no more occasions like there had been before, with Liz and Robert going out for a walk together, or just having fun. Childhood days were over, but still sometimes Liz felt as if she wanted to be a child again, only for a few hours, to enjoy that feeling of untainted happiness and boundless freedom.
Liz looked up when she heard Harriet's light footsteps on the gravel walk, approaching the summerhouse.
"Good morning Harriet," she said smilingly. "It seems we have had the same idea. Is this not a delightful day?"
"Oh yes, it is, Elizabeth," was Harriet's answer, while she took a seat next to Liz.
She still calls me Elizabeth, although she is my sister now. Everybody else calls me Liz, even George does. But not Harriet...I'll always stay Elizabeth for her... Liz thought.
Liz took a closer look at her sister-in-law, while Harriet started working on her embroidery. Harriet had not looked very well lately; her complexion seemed to grow paler every day. Her skin was as white as porcelain, and looked about as delicate. Not to forget that she seemed to be out of spirits most of the time.
"Are you unwell, Harriet," Liz asked before she could stop herself.
"Of course I am, Elizabeth. Why, do you think I am not well?"
"You have been a bit low lately, I have noticed that."
"It is...nothing, Elizabeth, it is just that I am so tired, sometimes, and my stomach seems to be a bit upset."
"Nothing serious, I hope?"
Harriet smiled. "I don't think so, no."
They both sat there, Harriet doing her needlework, and Elizabeth reading. Sometimes Liz cast a sidelong glance at Harriet. Something was wrong, she could sense that, but Harriet did not seem to be inclined to tell her what it was. Well, it was not her business to inquire any further. If Harriet did not want to tell her, she had reasons for that. It was only so very unlike her usual behaviour.
After a while, Harriet got up, gathered her embroidery and went back to the house. She did not say a word, and Liz was too absorbed in her book to notice anything that happened around her. So she was quite shocked, when she suddenly heard a sharp whistle. She started and turned round to see where it came from, but she could not see anything.
There, again that whistle. Now Liz found out what direction it came from, and she recognised Davey Harris marching towards her. Davey Harris was a fine, fair-haired boy, about twelve years of age. He was the shepherd's son, and always up to some mischief or other.
"Hullo, Miss," he yelled, waving frantically. Somehow, Davey Harris had always been fond of her company, and whenever he was near he turned up sooner or later, to see what she was doing.
"Good morning, Davey. What are you doing here?"
"I was lookin' for stones, Miss."
"Not for a catapult, I hope," Liz said, hoping that she might sound strict.
"Nah, Miss, I need them for playin'. What's that you're readin'," he asked and moved closer to her, to see the book cover.
Liz turned the cover, to make it easier for Davey to read the title.
He sighed, with an unhappy look in his eyes.
"Wish I could read stories an' that, but I'm too old to learn readin', an' I think I can read already, a bit. Enough for me, Dad always says. He says a shepherd ain't got no use for books."
Liz looked at the boy. He seemed to be so genuinely unhappy, that she pitied him. Something had to be done.
"Do you want me to teach you?"
"Would you, Miss," he said, half laughing, and with a happy expression all over his face.
"Of course I would. Do you want to start right away?"
"Nah, I'll have to go back to Dad in a moment. But maybe tomorrow mornin' ? I could use my breakfast break for readin'."
"Certainly, Davey. Tomorrow morning then."
Davey Harris went away, absolutely convinced there was not a lovelier creature on Earth than Miss Martin, except Mrs Martin, that was. But Miss Martin was lovely, and clever, too. After all, she could read.
Harriet, in the meantime, had entered the house and looked for her mother-in-law. There were one or two things she wanted to talk about. She would have loved to confide in Elizabeth, but this was an occasion in which Elizabeth would not be much help...
Harriet found her mother-in-law in the kitchen, sipping at a cup of tea and chatting away with Mrs Simms, the housekeeper, as she always did at that time of day.
"I'm sorry if I am disturbing you, mother, but may I have a word with you?"
"Certainly, Harriet."
"Alone?"
Mrs Martin nodded, and led her out of the kitchen, into the drawing room.
"Now, what is it, Harriet?"
Harriet sighed. Well, one might as well get over it...
"I think I am... with child, mother."
Mrs Martin nodded. "I thought so," she said, and smiled at the horrified look Harriet gave her.
"Don't worry, it is not that obvious yet, but I have had three children and I recognise the symptoms when I see them. Have you already told Robert about it?"
"No, not yet...I didn't want to say anything before I was sure. I didn't want to...well, you know..."
"I know, Harriet. You didn't want to disappoint him if your suspicions turned out to be not correct."
"Right. And then I wanted to talk to you, first..."
"Why that, Harriet?"
Harriet looked at her with her big blue eyes. "Because...because you're the only woman with whom I can talk about that. I mean, you said before you have had three children, and so you know all the things a woman has to know about...being in the state I am in at the moment, and what she has to do, and.... well, things I cannot ask Catherine, or Elizabeth, or Mrs Goddard. You're the only one I've got."
Mrs Martin smiled. "Harriet, believe me, whenever you want help or advice, I will be there for you, any time, day or night. Do not hesitate to ask. All I can advise you to do at the moment is to take care of yourself. Make sure you get enough fresh air and exercise, but don't overdo it. You don't have to walk ten miles a day. And make sure to eat enough."
"Is there nothing I can do about that... nausea I feel every morning?"
"I am afraid no, Harriet, but cheer up, if you are lucky it will only last for about three months."
Harriet groaned. "Three months? I won't survive that!"
"I said, three months if you are lucky. If not, it might last all nine months."
Harriet sighed. "I guess I'll have to face it. I'm looking forward to having a baby, I really do."
Mrs Martin laughed and embraced her. "I am looking forward to it, too. Life will be much happier when there are children around. I am very happy for both of you. But now, Harriet, you'll have to tell Robert what he is to expect in...December?"
"Yes, I think the child will be born in December."
Harriet went out of the room, wondering if she should tell Mrs Martin... but no, she had to get over that by herself.
She knew that Robert would not be at home until the late afternoon and decided to go to her bedroom and lie down a bit. Life could have been so easy if she had not been so tired all the time...
Harriet was awakened by a gentle touch on her cheek. She opened her eyes, and saw that Robert was sitting at her side, looking at her apprehensively. With a sleepy smile, she put her arms around him.
"You're back already," she asked, and kissed him.
"Already? It's nearly five o'clock, Harriet."
"Five o'clock? That means I've slept all afternoon!" Harriet exclaimed and rose quickly, only to sit down on the bed the next moment because she felt a sudden giddiness. Robert watched her with increasing worry.
"Harriet, dear, is something wrong with you," he asked.
"No, I am fine, darling. But I wanted to ask you something..."
"Well, feel free to do so," Robert said, looking into her eyes anxiously.
"Today I was thinking about Catherine's room..."
Robert frowned. "About Cathy's room."
Harriet smiled. "Yes, I wanted to know what plans you've got for her room, now that she is married. I mean, she won't need it any more, will she."
"No, I don't think she will. But what are you up to? What do you have to do with Cathy's room?"
Men, Harriet thought. They will never get a hint. Let's give it another try then.
"I thought it might need some redecorating."
"Like?"
"A cradle, perhaps? I think we'll need a nursery in December."
Robert was looking her, with the happiest of smiles all over his face.
"Are you sure?"
"I've got all the symptoms, at least."
Next thing she felt was Robert was holding her close, saying, "I am so glad... so happy, dear..."
She smiled. "I'm happy, too. So, what about the nursery then?"
Robert kissed her. "Anything you ask for, love. If you want me to fetch the moon for you, it wouldn't be any trouble. Not now. Not after your telling me such wonderful news."
Harriet laughed. Somehow, Robert always managed to cheer her up. So did Elizabeth. Those two were really very much alike.
"I think I'll content myself with a nursery for the moment."
"Very well, Mrs Martin, you'll get your nursery. You know you really scared me?"
Harriet shook her head, incredulously. "Why, Robert?"
He took her hand. "Because I thought you were ill, that's why. That's why I wanted to know if something was wrong. And when you said you had something to ask me, I thought you'd ask me to send for Mr Perry or something like that."
Harriet smiled. "I don't think I'll need Mr Perry. Mrs Pearce, the midwife, will be perfect for me."
Again, Robert embraced and kissed her. "In December, you said?"
"December, yes. Some time between Christmas and New Year's Day."
Robert grinned. "I can hardly wait," he said. "Does mother already know?"
Harriet nodded. "I needed to ask for her advice, and she told me she'd already guessed it. It doesn't look as if I can keep anything secret from her."
"What about Liz and Cathy?"
"I haven't told them yet. Leave that to me, will you? You can tell George, if you want to, but not until I told Cathy about it. I want her to hear it from me."
Robert kissed her. "I promise. Not a word to anyone until you have told Liz and Cathy."
When Liz stepped out of the drawing room, heading for her own room to get dressed for dinner, she saw that Harriet descended the stairs, looking better than she had done in the morning. Actually, she seemed to be quite happy at the moment.
Harriet came towards her and said, "Will you take a turn with me in the garden, Elizabeth, before we go in for dinner?"
"Why not? It is still fine, I shall be glad to. You do look better than you did in the morning, Harriet."
"Thank you Elizabeth, I feel much better, too."
They stepped out into the farmyard and headed into the direction of the garden.
"You should go and see Mr Perry, Harriet. It could be something serious, you know." Liz frowned. "You must consider your health."
Harriet laughed out loud. "Elizabeth, you know you sounded just like Mr Woodhouse? Believe me, I am perfectly happy and healthy at the moment."
Liz doubted that. Earlier that day... "You said you were tired all the time, and that your stomach..."
"But it is not a sign of any illness, Elizabeth. Do you already have any plans for Christmas?"
"Not yet, no. Why that change of topic?"
"I only meant that you might have a nephew or a niece by Christmas."
"So that is your trouble at the moment! I should have known! Congratulations, Harriet!"
Liz grinned. "Poor Rob. I hope his son won't be too much like him, or he is going to have a hard time as a father. I cannot really imagine him as a father. What does he say?"
Harriet smiled. "He is very happy about it, and as proud as can be."
Liz laughed. "I dare say he is. Well, if you happen to have time in the months to come, and have nothing else to do, just ask me to tell you some tales of Rob's mischievous past. Then you'll wish for the child to be a girl..."
"Girls can be troublesome, too, sometimes."
"Oh yes, just ask my mother. She had Rob, and she had me, and I guess she still does not know which one of us was worse. I wonder why her hair has not gone completely white. I guess Cathy was her only comfort, she has always been a lady."
Harriet laughed. "And still both of you have turned out to be respectable people."
"Respectable, indeed," Liz said with a mischievous grin. "But there was hard work involved to reach that effect, I can tell you."
Later that evening, Liz sat in her room, brushing her hair and looking into her mirror. What she saw was not unpleasant, still Liz could never be persuaded to think of herself as "pretty".
Her hair was light brown, a rather dull colour, she thought. And, if the colour had not been enough trouble, it also refused to be straightened or curled. Liz had given up making her hair look decent a long time ago. It was no use. She had, in a way, called it a truce, and had allowed her hair to do as it pleased as long as it kept out of her face and did not give her too much trouble. Whenever a stray hair found its way into her face, she took it and put it behind her ears, where it stayed...for the time being. This gesture of drawing her hair back was familiar to anyone who knew her, and by the frequency of it one could tell how nervous or annoyed she was. Either by this, or by her toying with her necklace.
Her eyes were grey, another dull colour, Liz thought. She had always envied Harriet her beautiful blue eyes, or Cathy, whose eyes were of a pretty dark brown.
There was always a jolly sparkle in Liz's eyes, and her smiles and her wit made her even more attractive. Those who knew her and loved her wondered why Liz had no suitor. Liz, herself, did not wonder about that at all, and normally she did not care either.
Even if Liz was not really the belle of Donwell and Highbury, she was good looking (even if she herself did not believe so), and generally liked for her good humour and her readiness to help. Harriet had noticed this on the very first day of their acquaintance, when Liz had helped her in a tricky French examination. It had been Liz who had always made her laugh with her witty remarks, had helped her to cope with Miss Nash's malice, and it had been Liz who had invited Harriet to Abbey Mill Farm, where Harriet had met her brother...
Liz smiled at her own reflection in the mirror.
"Well done, after all, Liz Martin. Even if it didn't always look like it. Now, if you could only find someone for yourself, everybody would be content. Don't let Rob's children grow up to despise their spinster Auntie Liz."
Part 2
For about two weeks, everyone on Abbey Mill Farm was happy. They all had something to look forward to, and Harriet was everyone's pet at the moment. George and Cathy, like the rest of the family, had been delighted by the happy news, and Cathy spent most of her spare time at Abbey Mill Farm with her sister-in-law, talking mainly of babies. Liz felt a bit left out, but her daily appointments with Davey Harris kept her busy.
Davey was, indeed, a very intelligent boy, and had his circumstances been different, he would have done exceedingly well in school. But Davey's father did not think that schooling was important for his son. Davey was to be a shepherd, like his father and grandfather had been before him. There was no use in books, they only put ideas into people's heads and made them want to rise above the situation in life which was theirs. Davey was here to work, and when he was to do his duty as a shepherd it did not matter how well he could read or write. So, as soon as Davey had learnt some basic reading and writing, his father had removed him from school and had taken him into his own care, to teach him all he needed to know for his future profession. This would also "get the silly ideas outta his head", and he would be "less of a rascal" if he had to work hard all day and was tired every evening.
Liz had started teaching Davey because she had pitied him, but soon she found out that he was a model scholar. His problems with reading had more to do with an indifferent teacher and a lack of practice in the past than with lack of intelligence. He was a fast and eager learner, he wanted to know a lot of things, and Liz liked teaching him very much.
She met Davey early every morning in the summerhouse with one of her books, read with him and then talked about what he had read. Even though it had only been two weeks since they had started those daily lessons, a result was already to be seen.
Davey read more fluently, and his vocabulary had improved, too. He took pains to get rid of his broad accent, and tried to speak "proper English" when he was with "Miss".
Harris, his father, had disapproved of the lessons at first, but was reconciled to them when he thought more of it. This meant that he would know where his son was, and he was less likely to do some mischief when Miss Martin was with him. As long as Davey's work did not suffer from it, Harris grudgingly allowed his son to go to Abbey Mill Farm every morning, provided he "did not bother Miss Martin too much".
One morning Liz had just returned into the house after Davey's lesson, when a messenger arrived with a note, and wanted to see Robert.
Robert opened the letter, read it and went as white as a sheet.
"When did it happen, do you know?"
"Yesterday evening, sir."
Robert turned to Liz and said, "Liz, fetch mother and Harriet, will you? I've got bad news."
Liz hurried away, and after they had all gathered in the drawing room, Robert told them what the message was about.
"It's from Mrs Charles. Her husband has died last night. She...she wants me to come and be of assistance; she writes she is not in the condition to take all those business matters into her own hand. You know she has no one else to ask for help."
Mrs Martin went pale, and asked," But how did it happen, Robert? Did Mrs Charles write anything about it in her letter?"
"No, nothing, just that Mr Charles has passed away. But I am sure I'll get to know more as soon as I get there. I've already sent George a note, asking him to go along with me."
"Poor Mrs Charles," Liz sighed. "After all those years...How long have they been married, mother, do you know?"
"It must have been nearly forty years, Liz. Robert, I'll go with you, Mrs Charles has been such a comfort to me when your father died, I don't want to let her down now."
Robert nodded. "Very well then, mother. We'll just have to wait until I get an answer from George."
The reply arrived half an hour later. George suggested that they'd meet at Mrs Charles's house, it was about one mile out of Donwell, in the opposite direction of Abbey Mill Farm, so it would take George less time to get there than it would take Robert. Robert and his mother got ready and left shortly afterwards.
Harriet did not feel very well this morning, so she excused herself and went to her room, leaving Liz in the drawing room all alone, to reflect on what she had just heard.
Mrs Charles had been her father's cousin, a very good-natured lady. Her husband had been a farmer, too, on an even larger farm than Abbey Mill Farm was. They had only had one child, a daughter, who had died years before any of the Martin children had been born. Her name had been Anne, and Mrs Charles had never got over the loss of her child. She had always been like a second mother to Robert, Cathy and Liz Martin, and had been especially fond of Liz. Mrs Charles had never been an extraordinarily clever woman, but she was not dull-witted either. Her principal interest was gossip, and if she had the chance to talk, she would ramble on without even pausing to breathe. Liz's father had once compared her to a water mill, chattering on and on and being unable to stop.
And now, Mr Charles was dead. He had always borne with his wife's peculiarities with good humour, occasionally making fun of her, but never speaking of her in a disrespectful way. As a farmer, he had been very successful, and so his wife did not have to fear that he had left her without the means of a comfortable life. He had been fond of the little luxuries of life, such as good wine or an excellent meal, or even a good smoke, occasionally.
He had never talked much, perhaps because he was hardly able to put in a word edgewise when his wife was talking, but when he had spoken up his comments had usually been full of his subtle, dry sense of humour.
What was Mrs Charles to do, now that her husband was gone? There were no relations, except the Martins. Mr Charles had had no brothers or sisters. So there were no nephews or nieces who might be a comfort to her. Mr Charles had been Mrs Charles' only companion for most of the time, and she had been so devoted to him in all those years that she had not cared to find many more friends. Her husband's company was all the company she had required, and her husband's welfare had been her whole design.
Poor Mrs Charles! She must be heartbroken, Liz thought, and the idea of Mrs Charles, all alone in her house, made her want to cry. Even more so because Mrs Charles' present situation reminded her of a similar occasion in her own family, not too long ago...
Liz made a resolution. As soon as Robert came back she would ask him if she was allowed to go to Bellwood Farm, Mrs Charles' place, and if she might stay there until Mrs Charles had recovered from the first shock of losing her husband.
Perhaps she might not be of much help, but still, there would be someone there for Mrs Charles, and Liz might have the chance of being useful. No one really needed her here, but Mrs Charles needed a companion.
But Robert, on returning home, told her that her mother had already had the same idea and had stayed with Mrs Charles.
"Mother has had the same experience, Liz, so she will be much more helpful than you can be in that case."
Liz nodded. "How is Mrs Charles, Rob?"
"She is still in a state of shock, Liz. You wouldn't have recognised her if you had seen her today. She just sat there, staring at the wall, and started to cry whenever anyone addressed her. Finally we had to call for the apothecary to give her some laudanum. That's another reason why mother stayed with her. She needs to be nursed." He smiled sadly. "But it does you credit that you thought of it, Liz, and had mother not stayed with her I would probably have made the same suggestion."
Mr Charles's funeral took place two days later. It was as if nature itself had honoured the occasion by dressing itself in mourning, there were dark clouds in the sky and it looked as if it was going to rain soon when the congregation gathered on Donwell parish churchyard to pay their last respect to Mr Daniel Charles. Mrs Charles looked composed, but she had to be supported by Robert Martin and his mother throughout the service, and there was a faraway look in her eyes. It broke Liz's heart to see the gentle, good-humoured woman like that. She was so unlike herself. One could only hope that time would heal her wounds, finally.
After the funeral they took Mrs Charles back to her house, and stayed with her for dinner. Mrs Martin had agreed to stay with her for another week, and no one knew what was to happen after that. Mrs Charles did not give them the impression that it was safe to leave her all by herself.
In Mrs Charles' parlour nothing had changed, except that Mr Charles's easy chair was missing.
"I could not stand the sight of it any more," Mrs Charles said when Liz pointed out the change. "It was his favourite place. I could not stand...." She broke into tears, and Liz put her arms around the old lady. She did not know how to console her, she could not think of anything to say, and so she decided to keep quiet and let Mrs Charles have a good cry on her shoulder.
After a few minutes, her sobs subsided and she looked at Liz.
"Thank you, Elizabeth, dear, you have always been such a good girl. That is why I have always been so fond of you."
She took a handkerchief, dabbed her eyes and said, "I have something to ask of you, Elizabeth, a favour. Promise me to consider it."
"I will, Mrs Charles. What is it you want to ask me?"
"In the past days I have found out that I cannot go on living here. Everything reminds me of my dear husband...it is too much for me to bear. I need a change of situation, I need to get away from here..."
She paused for a few moments, collecting herself, and then went on.
"As long as I can remember, I have always dreamed of going back to the seaside one day. You know I have been to school in Weymouth?"
"No, I did not know that, Mrs Charles."
"Very well then, my plan is to go there for a few months. The only thing that makes me hesitate is that there will not be any friends or relatives there, and an old widow cannot go into company much... To make it short, Elizabeth, I wanted to ask you to accompany me."
"I would be very glad to go to Weymouth with you, Mrs Charles."
"Not exactly to Weymouth, there a small town west of Weymouth on the Dorset coast. Cranston...have you ever heard of it?"
"No, I have not, Mrs Charles."
"I have been there once during my stay in Weymouth, a delightful place, you will like it. I remember I fell in love with the place at first sight."
"I am sure I will, Mrs Charles. I will be happy to go with you, but I will have to ask mother first. Well, I think she will consent."
Indeed, Mrs Martin fully approved of Mrs Charles' plans. She, too, thought that a stay by the seaside might do Mrs Charles good, and she was absolutely sure that Liz's company would help Mrs Charles to overcome her grief. So the matter was settled. Liz was to go to Dorset with Mrs Charles as soon as Mrs Charles had found a reliable man to manage the farm while she was away.
"I would have liked to ask Robert, but he has enough to do with Abbey Mill already."
Later in the evening, when Robert entered their bedroom, he found Harriet sitting by her dressing table and crying.
"What is the matter, dear," he asked in a tender voice.
"I don't know," she sobbed. "There were so many things I have thought about today. I guess....I guess it was the funeral, and everyone being so depressed...and I'm so scared..."
Robert took her in his arms. "Why scared, Harriet?"
But he got no answer, Harriet just leant on him and cried. He stroked her hair gently, and waited for her to calm down a bit. Why would Harriet be scared, he wondered. What reason could there possibly be?
After a while, she calmed down and said, "It is good to have you here, Robert. I feel much better now, thank you."
"But what was the reason for you crying, Harriet? I've got to know, love."
"I'm afraid you'll laugh at me if I tell you, it's ridiculous..."
"Harriet, no excuses. You told me that something frightens you, and I want to know what it is. How am I supposed to help you if you don't tell me what's wrong?"
He looked at her earnestly. Harriet sighed.
"It was just that...the funeral today made me think of what I would do if...and then I thought of my mother...you know how she died..."
She started to cry again, and now Robert understood. For one moment, fear got hold of his heart, and he held her close.
"This won't happen to us, Harriet, believe me. Don't even think of that, dear." He kissed her forehead. "Believe me, this won't happen to us."
I couldn't bear it, he thought. How could I ever live without her?
"Everything will be fine, Harriet, you'll see. We'll both live to see our grandchildren, believe me. And if anyone of us has to go before the other, I want to be the one. I couldn't stand the thought of losing you."
They both sat there, for a while, holding on to each other. Now that Harriet had talked about her fears, she felt relieved. The possibility of her dying in childbirth like her mother had worried her ever since she had known that she was pregnant. Somehow, now that she had talked about it, she felt much better.
Robert, however, had never thought of that risk before, and now that Harriet had mentioned it to him, he was alarmed. He would not have admitted it, but he felt absolutely helpless.
Part 3
It lasted another month until Liz and Mrs Charles were finally able to set off in the direction of Dorset.
It had proved to be more difficult to find a suitable manager for Bellwood Farm than Mrs Charles had thought first. Robert had done his best to manage both farms for the time being, but he admitted that he would not be able to do so for a longer time. It was now June, the haymaking season would soon start, and this meant that he would be too busy with his own farm to take care of someone else's.
In this situation, Mr Knightley had made an offer. William Larkins, his steward, had a son who had learned his profession from his father. William Larkins was a man who was generally respected, and Mr Knightley thought very highly of him. His son was known to be a young man of common sense and very talented in business matters.
Mr Knightley's suggestion was that young Mr Larkins might take over the management of Bellwood Farm until Mrs Charles returned from the seaside.
Mrs Charles assented promptly, and so, finally, the preparations for the journey began.
Among all her other duties, Liz did not forget Davey Harris, who still came to Abbey Mill Farm every morning, to read with her. His progress in learning pleased her, and she was sad that Davey's lessons would soon have to stop.
Davey thought so too, these lessons had grown very dear to him.
"Miss, it will be so boring when you're gone. I'm sure I won't be readin' .... reading much."
"Davey, you must promise me to keep up your reading. You have been doing so well lately, you must not give up now. You do not need me, you can do very well by yourself."
"But I ain't...haven't got any books, Miss."
Liz smiled. "I've got a present for you, Davey." She took a book out of her purse, and gave it to him.
Davey's face was beaming with happiness. "For me?"
Liz nodded.
Then, suddenly, Davey's smile disappeared.
"Miss, I can't take such a present from you. It's far too...expensive. No, I can't."
Liz looked at Davey sternly. "Don't be ridiculous, Davey. If I had not been able to afford this present, I would not have bought it."
She smiled at him. "I would be really hurt if you didn't accept it, Davey. Do you want me to be hurt?"
The boy shook his head. "No, Miss," he said and took the book in his hand.
He started to flick through the pages, and then he exclaimed, "Hey, you have even written something in it!"
Liz laughed. "Read it, Davey."
"To my favourite ...pupil and good friend.... David Harris. E. Martin." He swallowed hard. Being twelve years old, he considered himself as a grown-up man already, and men didn't cry, did they? But losing one's best friend was hard...
"Thank you, Miss," he said in a ruffled voice, and cleared his throat, "Miss, take care of yourself, will you?"
Liz laughed. "I will, Davey, depend on it. I am only going to Dorset though, not to India. There are no cases of fever, and there aren't any tigers going to eat me, so I guess I'll be quite safe."
Davey laughed now, too.
"You know what, Davey? Write to me from time to time, so I'll always know what you're about."
"I will, Miss."
Liz grinned. "And no catapults! Even if I am a hundred miles away, I'd find out about it."
"No catapults," Davey said, looking at the floor.
"Look into my eyes and say it again, Davey," Liz demanded. Davey looked up. "I promise, Miss. No catapults."
"That's a good boy. Now, good-bye, Davey, and take good care of yourself. Keep up your reading, and try to be good. Will you? Give my regards to your father and mother. And don't forget to write."
In the evening, Liz went for another walk around the house and garden of Abbey Mill Farm. The last time she had left her home for a longer time had been after her father's death, when she and Catherine had gone to Mrs Goddard's. But that had been different. Catherine had been with her, and they had had the chance to meet their mother whenever she went to Highbury. Their home had never been out of reach.
A journey over a distance of a hundred miles was a different matter. Liz knew that she and Mrs Charles would spend most of their time together, as they had no acquaintance in Cranston. Her home and family would be far away, and she knew she would miss them. She trusted Mrs Charles to do everything to make her visit pleasant. Liz had always liked Mrs Charles, so she did not have any fear that they might not get on with each other. But Liz knew that there was no place like Abbey Mill Farm, and even an affectionate friend like Mrs Charles could not replace her mother.
Liz sighed, picked up a small stone and tossed it into the river. It skipped over the surface twice, before it sank.
"You used to be better at that," her brother's voice said behind her.
Liz smiled and turned to Robert. "I know. You taught me, remember?"
When they had been children, Liz had followed her big brother like a puppy, and sometimes he had been exceedingly annoyed about that. Still, Robert had to admit that whatever the boys had done, Liz had been quite ready to join the fun, and she would have done anything to keep up with them.
Robert laughed. "I don't know why, but somehow I couldn't get rid of you. Whenever George and I were up to something, who would turn up but my bothersome little sister."
"You can tell George that your bothersome little sister will be gone for a while," Liz said with a teasing smile. "A good time for some pranks. Boys only. But be prepared, I'll return, and then I'll have another match with you."
"You can have a match now, if you want," he said, picking up a pebble, weighing it in his hand.
"What if I win?"
"You won't. You never did."
"Well, but what if I win now?"
"Then you can tell George how shamefully I've lost. That will contribute to his amusement tonight."
"And if I lose?"
Robert laughed. "Then I will tell George how shamefully you've lost. AND I want you to play the pianoforte for us. I know you've been practising lately, Liz."
"Very well, Rob. The bet is on. You'll regret it, believe me."
"I only believe what I see. Go ahead!"
Liz picked up a pebble, and went to the riverbank. She aimed and...
"One..two..three..four..five," she counted. The pebble skipped over the surface five times before it sank.
She turned to her brother. "It's your turn now, Rob. Can you beat five?"
"Left-handed, sister," he said in a mocking tone. For a moment, he was like the twelve-year-old Rob teasing his five-year-old sister.
Robert, too, threw his stone. It skipped seven times.
"See? I told you, Liz. You always lose," he said, smiling, "but in the nineteen years of your life you've never believed me."
Suddenly, he saw a tear trickle down Liz's cheek. Robert was puzzled. Why was she crying?
"There, there," he said, putting his arm round her shoulders, "you're not going to cry because of that childish game of ours?"
Liz shook her head. "No. It's just...I'm going to miss you all so much."
She took out her handkerchief and blew her nose.
"Rob, don't tell anyone I cried, will you?" She smiled. "No one would believe it, anyway."
Robert laughed and offered her his arm. Liz could never stay serious for a very long time. He would miss her, too...
To honour Liz's last evening at home, the Martins had invited the Masons to dinner. Liz looked forward to seeing her sister and her brother-in-law. Catherine Mason, nee Martin, had always been the Martins' "family belle", or so Liz had called her. She had dark hair, dark brown eyes, and a beautiful figure. Beside her, Liz had always felt a bit awkward, but that had not led her to dislike her sister, on the contrary. Catherine was not a person one could possibly dislike. Her manner was calm, and she was friendly with everyone. It took some time until she was at ease with new people, but as soon as one had earned her friendship, she was the most loyal and affectionate friend one could wish for.
George Mason, her husband, had been Robert Martin's best friend ever since their early childhood. Their parents had been friends, and so the two boys had met frequently. George and Robert had grown up together nearly like brothers, and anyone who knew them noticed that. Sometimes it seemed as if either of them could read the thoughts of the other.
George was tall, dark-haired and handsome, and he was a pleasant companion. He was friendly, and amusing. In his bachelor days, many a young lady's eyes had gone dreamy as soon as his name had been mentioned. For some time, he had had the reputation of being a "horrible flirt", which had never been true.
His easy manner had sometimes given people the impression that he had been flirting, when he had actually only meant to be friendly and polite, and especially young ladies who were inclined to take the tiniest hint of politeness for a sign of love had thought so.
But George had known for years that Catherine Martin was the only woman he really cared for. It had taken him some time before he had dared to confess his feelings to Catherine, because Catherine as well as anybody had known about his "bad reputation".
Their engagement had taken place two years ago, on the day after Robert's 24th birthday.
The only thing they had had to wait for, before they could get married, had been for George to become a partner in his father's law office, so that his income would allow him to provide for a family. Finally, on the third of March, they had got married, and now Cathy lived with her husband in the village of Donwell, about one mile from Abbey Mill Farm.
"Well, Liz," George said after he had greeted everyone, "are you already nervous?"
"Why should I be nervous?"
"Oh," George said with a mischievous smile, "Going away from home for such a long time, to a place where no one else has been before you..." He winked.
"I'll write to Cathy as soon as Mrs Charles and I have settled comfortably in our bamboo hut, and you'll see how I like it."
George laughed heartily at the thought of Mrs Charles living in a bamboo hut in Dorset.
Robert came towards Liz and George, smiling. "May I join in?"
"I was just describing Mrs Charles's house in Dorset. A bamboo hut, and the roof is made of banana leaves. I think we'll call our savage servant....Tibbets."
George was still laughing. "Oh, please, Liz, stop..."
"You know, the only trouble will be keeping the snakes and tigers out of our hut, those animals have not the least sense of propriety, calling on people every hour of the day and night...but I think if I arm Mrs Charles and Tibbets with a spear, and keep a loaded pistol ready next to my pillow when I go to sleep, we will manage."
Robert laughed. "What was that about, George?"
"I don't know, ask your sister..." George tried to compose himself. "Liz, if you go on like this I'll entirely lose my dignity."
"Don't fear for your dignity any more, Mr Mason.", Liz replied playfully.
"Well, Rob, it was just because he was acting as if I was going to some remote place. A place where nobody has been before...that was what he said. That naturally reminded me of...some remote tropical island."
"Naturally," said George. "I need to watch my words when Miss Martin is around."
Robert laughed. "Will you two just stop fighting for a moment? Liz, it is time for our bet..."
"What bet?"
"You know which one."
"You were not serious, were you?"
"Indeed, I was Liz, and there's no way out of it," Robert said, grinning.
"A bet," Cathy, who had just joined their group, asked.
"Liz and I were down at the river this evening, and she challenged me to another game of ducks and drakes."
George laughed. "Really? Who won?"
"The one who always wins, George. Me. That is why Liz is going to play on the pianoforte for us."
George shook his head, turned to Liz and said, "I thought you were out of that age already, Liz. I am surprised, shocked, ..."
"Are you? I think the only thing you dislike about it is that you weren't there to join in."
"You've caught me, sister. I'd have loved to see it. Two grown-up people behaving like children."
"Do I really have to," Liz said to Robert, with a pleading look.
"Oh yes, you have to. Gambling debts are debts of honour, Liz. There is no way out of them."
"Very well, Shylock," Liz said with a theatrical sigh. "He is merciless, isn't he," she said to Cathy.
Cathy laughed. "It is your own fault, Liz. You shouldn't have challenged him."
Liz went to the pianoforte, sat down and placed the sheets of music before her. Once again, she looked about her, seeing the smiling, expectant faces of her family, and then she started to play.
Since her sister's marriage, she had taken possession of the pianoforte in the drawing room, and she had practised quite often, even if she had not really liked playing before.
Meanwhile, she was doing quite well, but she still did not like to play to other people. She was rather content as long as no one listened to her, but as soon as she noticed that someone was paying attention to her, she stopped.
That was why Robert had wanted her to play that evening, and had he not had the excuse of the lost bet, he would have asked her to play nevertheless.
The evening was soon over, Catherine and George left them for their own home. Cathy embraced her sister, with tears in her eyes, and wished her all the best.
"Do take care of yourself, Liz," she said, "and don't forget to write from time to time. I will write at least once every week, you can depend on that."
"I will be looking forward to your letters, Cathy."
"How long will you be gone, Liz," George asked.
"I don't know, it is all up to Mrs Charles. But I think it will be at least three or four months, if not longer."
"You will be missed around here." He grinned. "Now I'll be the one to lose against your brother."
"You'll get used to it. I did." She smiled. "Good bye, both of you. George, I expect you to take good care of my sister. When I come back I want to see her in the same good spirits as she is in now."
George took a short bow. "I will do my very best, Miss Martin."
Liz went back into the house, and went straight up the stairs. Her departure would be early the next morning, so she'd better get some sleep. Liz sighed. This was easier said than done.
Part 4
After a long night in which Liz had desperately tried to get some sleep, the morning was dawning. Liz realised that it would be no use at all to try and go to sleep, and decided to get out of bed and check, once again, if she had packed everything she needed.
Liz was one of the "rather be safe than sorry" people, who would rather check on everything for a fifth time, even if they knew that everything was allright.
One never knows, after all, and there might be a thing or two that have escaped your notice before, Liz...better check again.
After confirming that her trunks definitely contained all that she needed for her journey, Liz washed and got dressed. It was now six o'clock, and Mrs Charles would soon arrive to pick her up. Her family would already be waiting for her with their breakfast. All of them had promised to breakfast with her before her departure.
She opened her bedroom window and breathed in deeply. It was a bright, beautiful morning, and that meant that the weather for the first day of their journey would be just fine. If it didn't get too hot during the day, that was...
Liz sighed. She dreaded the long journey that lay before her. Two days in a carriage with Mrs Charles, even the thought of it fatigued her. But there was no other way of getting to Dorset, and so Liz had to put up with the inconvenience of travelling.
When Liz entered the dining room, her mother and brother were already waiting for her. Shortly after Liz, Harriet entered the room.
They did not talk much during breakfast. Mrs Martin was unusually silent. Liz knew how hard it was for her mother to hide her feelings. Even if she had always approved of the journey, now that Liz was going to leave she did not really want her to go. It was a sign of increasing age if one's children all left their parents' home...and, one never knew, perhaps Liz would only come back to be married from this house? A lot of things could happen in four months. Mrs Martin had a hard time in fighting back her tears.
Harriet had no scruples in that respect, she embraced Liz tenderly and cried bitter tears while she took leave.
When the carriage arrived, they all accompanied her to the carriage, took leave of Mrs Charles, too, and then Robert gave Liz one last hug.
"I won't ask you to take care of yourself, Liz, because I know that this is what you will do, anyway. Make the best out of that journey, and don't forget us, will you?" He winked.
"As if I ever would..." Liz hugged Robert and kissed him on his cheek. Then he handed her into the carriage, the carriage door was closed, and the journey began.
Liz took a closer look at Mrs Charles. In the last month, Mrs Charles had aged at least ten years. She had grown thin, and there was a bitter expression in her eyes.
Poor Mrs Charles! Liz thought. I hope my being with her will do her good.
Mrs Charles noticed her searching look and smiled. "I know what you must think, dear Elizabeth. I know I do not look very well at the moment, but I do feel a bit better. And I am sure I will be my old self again after a while. I will just have to try and get along without my dear husband. But it is hard, you can believe me."
"I think it is, Mrs Charles."
"He was such a good man, the best that ever lived." Mrs Charles's face brightened while she talked of her husband. "I know for you he must have been just an old gentleman of your acquaintance, and a friend of the family, but we were young, once...." She smiled dreamily, and her eyes shone.
Liz had never really thought about the Charleses as a young couple, and Mrs Charles mentioning the past made her curious.
"Where did you meet Mr Charles for the first time, Mrs Charles?"
"Do you want to hear the story?"
"Oh yes, please, if you don't mind telling it...please don't tell it if it gives you pain."
"It does not give me pain at all, Elizabeth, on the contrary, these are pleasant memories...and it will pass the time on this long journey.
Well, I'll start right at the beginning then. You know that your grandfather and my father were brothers? Your father was my cousin."
"Yes, I know, Mrs Charles."
"My family lived in London, my father owned a small shop there. Nothing extravagant, but a good sort of shop in a respectable neighbourhood. My mother was from Dorset, that is why she sent me to school in Weymouth. She always said that there was nothing like the sea air for a girl. Well, but that has nothing to do with my story, really...I'll keep to the topic, I'll try at least, you know me..."
Liz smiled.
"One day my uncle, your grandfather, invited me to visit his family. We had never had much contact with his family, but my father wished me to meet them. So this invitation was considered to be a good opportunity for me to meet my uncle, aunt and cousin. I was welcomed in a very friendly manner, and I felt at home almost immediately. I enjoyed life in the country; I preferred it to life in London. I have never been very fond of London. It is true, town life is more exciting, but I love the peaceful atmosphere of a country home. I never wished myself back to London, no, I never did. But then, who would wish herself away from such a home as Bellwood Farm. Oh, I am off the track again. Forgive me, Elizabeth."
"There is nothing I have to forgive you, Mrs Charles. We've got all the time we need, so take your time to tell your story."
"Right, so where was I?"
"You said you were invited to Abbey Mill Farm, Mrs Charles."
"Right, well, my uncle and aunt, your grandparents, were very kind to me, and so was your father. He was much younger than I was, I was already twenty years old and he was twelve. He was a bit of a rascal at that time, I can tell you..."
Liz laughed. Her father a rascal? She could imagine that very well.
"But now to Mr Charles. I met him at an assembly at the Crown in Highbury. Nowadays, such assemblies do not take place very often in Highbury, but at that time they did. My uncle and aunt got an invitation, and they asked me to come with them. I was very fond of dancing, and was delighted. You can imagine that I was the sensation of the evening - the Martins' niece from London, you know. All the young ladies wanted to know every single thing about London, and London society. I did enjoy this, in a way, never before had I got so much attention from other people. And then Mr Charles was introduced to me and asked me for a dance...I liked him from the first moment, though I cannot say that I fell in love with him so quickly. That took some more time. But I still remember that evening to be one of the most pleasant evenings in my life."
"What did you like most about Mr Charles?"
"That evening, or later?"
"That evening AND later, Mrs Charles."
"That evening...he was very attentive, friendly, amusing. He had this fine sense of humour, he made me laugh. I liked his company. Later I found that there were a lot of things to love about him."
Mrs Charles's face became very sad again, and Liz had enough delicacy of feeling not to inquire any further.
It must be wonderful to love someone so much as Mrs Charles loved her husband, she thought. But surely this will never happen to me.
To distract Mrs Charles's thoughts, she said, "Where are we going to stay in Cranston?"
"I have rented a house in town from a Mr Searle. He is said to be the richest man in Cranston, he owns this house in town, and another one, about a mile out of Cranston, where he lives with his sister."
"So Mr Searle is not married?"
"It seems so, Elizabeth. I have not made his acquaintance yet, all correspondence concerning the rental of the house has been done by Mr Mason and Mr Searle's lawyer. But Mr Searle has promised to visit us as soon as we have settled in Cranston."
"George arranged everything?"
"He did. And I am very happy that he did. He is an excellent lawyer, he will make his way in the world, mark my words, Elizabeth."
For the next half hour, none of the two ladies spoke. Liz looked at the scenery outside the window, and Mrs Charles dozed off now and then.
Then the carriage stopped at an inn, and Liz and Mrs Charles went inside the inn to have something to eat.
"How far are we going today, Mrs Charles," Liz asked while they were eating.
"We will spend the night in Winchester," was Mrs Charles's answer. "And we will arrive in Cranston some time tomorrow evening, but I suppose it will be already dark when we get there."
"Tell me some more about Cranston, Mrs Charles. You have been there once, haven't you?"
"I was there with a school friend of mine, yes. She was from Weymouth, and her parents invited me to go on a trip to Cranston. They said it was a delightful place, and it is. It is a small town, about the size of Highbury. It is a small port, mostly for fishermen. There is a long pebble beach near the town, a delightful place for long walks, I guess, if you watch out for the tide. The countryside near Cranston is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. The town itself, well, it has been forty years since I have been there, so I cannot really tell you what it looks like, I guess it has changed very much ever since. At my time, there were one or two public houses, a shop, and an old Norman church. Well, I suppose the church will be still there, don't you think?"
Elizabeth laughed. "I guess so, Mrs Charles. Well, from your description I think I shall like the place very much, and I am looking forward to seeing it tomorrow."
That night in Winchester, Liz could hardly stay awake during supper. The long journey had fatigued her more than she had thought before, and all she really wanted was a comfortable bed.
When she finally got into her bed, she fell asleep at once, and could not believe that it was already time to get up when Mrs Charles woke her up the next morning.
The journey went on like the day before, the weather was fine and the roads were in a good condition, so they had no problems in moving on.
The sun was blazing, and it was rather hot in the carriage, which made both Liz and Mrs Charles tired and they fell asleep quite often.
Later in the afternoon, Liz took out a book, and started reading, until Mrs Charles awoke.
She smiled at Liz guiltily and said," You must think me a bad travelling companion, Elizabeth. But the heat has had its effect on me."
"It is no problem at all, Mrs Charles. I have been asleep myself for some time."
"It will not take very much longer now. I guess we will get to Cranston in two or three hours. Most of our journey is over."
Liz smiled and nodded, and said, "Do you want me to read to you, Mrs Charles? It would pass the time."
"That is a good idea, Elizabeth, do so."
So Liz started reading to Mrs Charles, until Mrs Charles dozed off again. Liz smiled. With all her worries, and being so fatigued herself, Mrs Charles was still concerned about Liz's well-being. It was good to have such a friend.
It was already dusk when they arrived in Cranston. They got out of the carriage, and Liz looked around her.
Clouds were gathering in the sky, and gusts of wind came in from the sea. It was cool and fresh out here, and Liz wished she could go for a walk at once. This was not a good thought, though, she did not know the place, and it was nearly dark. She did not wish to get lost on her first evening in Cranston; it would be a bad start, indeed.
Sarah and Peter, Mrs Charles's servants who had been sent before them to get the house ready for their arrival, welcomed them. Liz entered the house, took off her bonnet and took a close look at her surroundings.
The entrance hall was not too big, but not small, either. There was a staircase leading upstairs opposite the front door, and there were several doors leading to the different rooms in the ground floor. Sarah showed them into the different rooms. There were a breakfast room, a dining room, a parlour, a drawing room and a study. All of them were elegantly furnished. Large windows made them look light; Liz could imagine that, even though it was dark outside the windows at the moment.
From the drawing room they could go through a French window that led to a patio, and from there into a small garden. There was a lawn, and flowerbeds.
Upstairs there were the bedrooms. Sarah showed Mrs Charles and Liz into their rooms and told them that supper would soon be ready. Then they were left to themselves to refresh themselves.
Liz's room was large, larger than the one she occupied at home. It looked as if it had always been a young lady's room. There were two windows. The furniture was modern and comfortable; there was a writing desk by one window, and an easy chair by the other one. A large bed was standing opposite the windows, next to which there was a dressing table. The fireplace was opposite the door, and there was a crackling fire burning in it. There was a large bookshelf with books, and Liz was pleased to see that there were some books that she had not yet read. She would definitely like it here...
Liz went to one of the windows and looked outside. Her room was just above the parlour, and from here she could overlook the garden and the whole town of Cranston. Cranston was situated on a hill, sloping gently towards the sea. Liz could see the lights of the town. She sighed and turned away from the window. It was time to get ready.
Liz was glad to get rid of her travelling dress. It had been very hot in the carriage, so her dress felt damp.
She washed herself, put on a different dress and then did her hair. Once again she wished her hair might be easier to handle. "I'm looking like a scarecrow," she said to her reflection in the mirror. "Why can't my hair be a bit more like Harriet's, or Cathy's?"
Then she shrugged her shoulders. There was no use in worrying about things one couldn't change.
She met Mrs Charles in the dining room, and they ate their supper. None of them spoke very much, they were both tired and so they soon retired to their rooms.
Even though Liz was extremely tired, and her bed was very comfortable, it took Liz some time until she fell asleep. She was not used to this place. The wind was getting stronger, and Liz heard it whisper and moan outside the house. Then there was a flash of lightning, and a thunder. Liz had never before been afraid of thunderstorms, but now she was. At home, thunderstorms had never been so violent as this one was. Liz lay in her bed, and prayed that the storm might soon be over and no one would be harmed.
After some time, the storm subsided, and Liz finally drifted off to sleep...
Part 5
The next morning Liz woke up late. She quickly got dressed and looked out of the window. The thunderstorm in the night had cleared the air, and the sun was shining brightly. Liz could see some fishing boats in the harbour, and the sparkling blue water of the sea. In the distance there was a white streak, this had to be the pebble beach Mrs Charles had referred to. Liz smiled happily. Mrs Charles had been right, Cranston was a charming place.
Mrs Charles was already waiting for her in the breakfast room.
"Good morning, Elizabeth, I hope you slept well."
"Good morning, Mrs Charles. I did sleep well, but not very long, I am afraid. The thunderstorm kept me awake."
"There was a thunderstorm? Dear me, I must have slept really well, then, I did not hear a thing. What do you think of going into town after breakfast, Elizabeth? I could do with a walk, and knowing that you like to walk, too, I thought you might perhaps wish to accompany me."
Liz smiled. "I would very much like to, Mrs Charles."
Sarah came in, handing a card to Mrs Charles. "There's a gentleman here to see you, Madam."
Mrs Charles read the card. "Oh, it is Mr Searle, our landlord," she said. "Show him into the drawing room, Sarah, I will be there directly."
She turned towards Liz, while Sarah left the room.
"Isn't he nice, to visit us on the first day we are here? I am already curious what he is like. Aren't you?"
Liz laughed. "Not really, no. Anyway, I am going to meet him in a minute, am I not?"
They both went to the drawing room, where Mr Searle was waiting for them. He rose when the two ladies entered the room, and bowed to them.
"Please forgive my impertinence in calling on you so early, Mrs Charles, but I had to know if you had arrived safely, and if everything was to your satisfaction."
Liz took a closer look at Mr Searle. He was exceedingly handsome; he had a friendly face and an amiable smile. He was dressed elegantly, and behaved in a very gentleman-like manner. His age was hard to guess, but certainly he had not yet reached the age of thirty.
"There is no reason for you to apologise, Mr Searle. I am honoured that you should care about our well-being, and I am delighted to make your acquaintance." Mrs Charles smiled at the young man benevolently. "May I introduce you to my companion, Mr Searle?"
Mr Searle gave Liz a smile. "I'd be very honoured, Madam."
"Elizabeth, this is Mr Searle. Mr Searle, this is Miss Martin."
Elizabeth curtsied, and Mr Searle bowed to her. "I am charmed to make your acquaintance, Miss Martin." The look that he gave Liz showed her that this was not mere politeness. He meant what he said.
"Take a seat, Mr Searle," Mrs Charles said. "We were just planning to go into town later, to have a look at the place. I remember the church is particularly worth seeing, is it not?"
"Indeed, it is, Mrs Charles, a very fine example of Norman architecture. Mrs Charles, may I be so bold as to make this offer: I would like to be your guide to Cranston. Let me accompany you and show you all the places of interest. It would be such a pleasure for me if I could be of assistance to you."
"Certainly, Mr Searle. We are infinitely obliged, are we not, Elizabeth?"
"It is very kind of you, Mr Searle."
Liz's opinion of Mr Searle was not yet settled, but she thought him to be a likeable sort of man, maybe a bit too eager to please her and Mrs Charles, but one could not blame a man for his goodwill. He seemed to be willing to make their stay agreeable, and he had quickly earned Mrs Charles's approval, and had made her ... well, interested enough to wish to keep up the acquaintance.
They stepped out into the street together, and Mr Searle soon started pointing out the different buildings to them, addressing mainly Liz, but also answering Mrs Charles's questions.
Soon they knew all the shops of interest, and they reached the harbour.
"Well, and this is our main source of income, Miss Martin, our fishing port. Facing the waterfront over there you can see one of our two public houses, the Anchor. The other one is a bit further away from the water; it is called the Red Lion Inn. Sometimes there are assemblies taking place at the Red Lion. Are you fond of dancing, Miss Martin?"
He looked at her with an expectant smile, and while Liz was still thinking of an answer, Mrs Charles answered for her.
"Miss Martin is a very good dancer, Mr Searle."
"Oh, really?" He looked at Liz. "I hope you will come to one of our assemblies, then, Miss Martin. There will be one next week." He laughed. "My sister is talking of nothing else these days."
"You have a sister, Mr Searle," Liz asked, to lead him away from the topic.
"Yes, I have a younger sister. She is sixteen years old, and immensely fond of dancing. That is why she is longing for the assembly next week. Would it be too much to ask...would you allow me to introduce my sister to you, Miss Martin?"
"Please do, Mr Searle. I am looking forward to meeting her."
"I am sure she will be delighted to meet you, Miss Martin."
They walked on along the quay, and Liz looked at the houses and the sea. She did not tire of looking at the sea; there was something fascinating about it.
Then they met a young gentleman, and Mr Searle greeted him civilly.
"Mr Maynard! Are you already on duty this morning?"
Mr Maynard, a young gentleman of about twenty-five, nodded. "I am always on duty, Mr Searle, as you may well know."
Mr Searle turned to the ladies again. "Mr Maynard is our customs officer, a very able and diligent man."
Mr Maynard seemed to feel a bit uncomfortable at this praise. "I am only doing my duty, sir, as well as I can. If you will be so kind as to excuse me, I have to move on..." He gave Elizabeth a shy smile, bowed, and went on.
"Mr Maynard does not like to be praised," Mr Searle said. "Although I cannot understand why. Everyone needs to be praised, now and then."
"Perhaps he thinks that he does not deserve any praise, Mr Searle," Mrs Charles said. "Maybe he thinks he could do better."
"Possible, Mrs Charles, possible. Still I do not think he could do any better. He is the best customs officer we ever had, taking his duty really seriously. Now, if you would follow me? This way leads to the church."
They followed a path, and then they were entering the churchyard. Next to the gate there was an elderly man holding a horse, greeting Mr Searle and the two ladies respectfully.
"Ah, we are lucky. Mr Adams, our vicar, is here too. He will be able to tell you everything about our church you will ever care to know. Perhaps even more."
His look as he said this made Liz laugh. Mr Searle became more and more agreeable.
They entered the building and had a look. Liz moved forward, until she had reached about the middle of the aisle, and looked around her. The inside of the church was rather gloomy, so one could not see many details, but Liz liked what she saw. The building was awe-inspiring. The walls were massive, and the windows were small. A few pillars were supporting the roof. There was not much ornament in this church, even though the arches were ornamented. The whole room gave her an idea of what eternity meant. This church had been here for more than seven hundred years, and it would still be here when she and everyone she knew and loved would be long gone...If these walls could speak of what they had seen, what stories would they tell her?
Meanwhile Mr Adams, the vicar, had joined their group and was most happy to share his knowledge of local history in general, and his church's history in particular, with them. He finished his narrative with an eager invitation.
"I hope we will meet here on Sunday, Mrs Charles."
"We will, to be sure, Mr Adams. I am already looking forward to it."
After their walk, Mr Searle accompanied the ladies to their house and took leave while he waited for his horse to be fetched.
"I have already taken too much of your time, Mrs Charles and Miss Martin. You must think me the most disagreeable fellow in the world."
"Not at all, Mr Searle, I assure you," was Mrs Charles's answer. "It has been a delightful morning, and thanks to you we now know the place very well. Thank you for spending so much time with us, I am sure you had more important business than showing us around."
"It has been a pleasure, Mrs Charles. Miss Martin." He bowed, gave Liz a last smile, and then mounted his horse to ride away.
"Now what do you think, Elizabeth," Mrs Charles said. "Is Mr Searle not a charming young man?"
Liz smiled. "Oh yes, he is, Mrs Charles," was all she said.
She did not want to admit that she liked Mr Searle VERY much, indeed.
Later that afternoon, a coach arrived in Cranston, and a young gentleman got off. He had recently returned from a cruise to the West Indies and had now come to Cranston to visit a Navy friend of his.
William Price looked around him and smiled when he recognised his friend, John Campbell, waiting for him at the door of his house. Campbell had been with him on the Thrush, where he had had his first commission as a lieutenant.
Unfortunately, Campbell had had to resign from active Navy duty due to ill health, and had set up a practice as a surgeon in Cranston. Recently, he had got married, and on receiving his friend Price's letter of congratulations, had invited him to visit him and his wife as soon as he returned from his journey.
This invitation had already awaited William Price in his home in Portsmouth when he had arrived there, and he had eagerly accepted it, even more so because he wanted to know how his friend fared, now that he was confined to the land.
"Campbell! It is good to see you again, old chap," William said, smiling at his friend. "I am glad you are looking so well."
Mr Campbell smiled. "I can only return the compliment. You are looking remarkably well for a man who has just come back from the West Indies. No problems?"
William laughed. "You know me, Campbell, I always get on somehow."
Mr Campbell turned to a young lady who was standing next to him.
"Eleanor, may I present my friend, Lieutenant William Price? He used to be my shipmate on the Thrush."
Mrs Campbell gave William a close look. William was generally considered a handsome man. He had fair hair and blue eyes and was rather tall and slim. His easy and friendly manner added to his charm.
"I am very pleased to meet you at last, Mr Price. My husband has told me so much about you, I was very curious to make your acquaintance," Mrs Campbell said.
"I suspect your husband has spoken a bit too well of me, Mrs Campbell. I am honoured to meet you."
They entered the house, a handsome building in the main street of Cranston. William looked around and complimented the Campbells on their furniture. It was not expensive, but cosy and proper. Mrs Campbell blushed at his praise, so he assumed that the whole fittings were her doing.
He was shown into his room to unpack his trunk, and then joined them for dinner. During the meal, he readily answered all the questions Mrs Campbell had.
"My husband told me that you are from Portsmouth, sir. Do you have many relations in Portsmouth?"
"My family, yes. My parents, and some of my brothers and sisters live there."
"Not all of them, then?"
"No, two of my sisters live in Mansfield in Northamptonshire. Fanny is married to Mr Edmund Bertram, and Susan lives with Uncle and Aunt Bertram. And two of my brothers are in the Navy, too, so they are not always in Portsmouth."
"When did you first go to the sea, Mr Price?"
"I was eleven years old when I went on my first cruise, Mrs Campbell."
"Eleven! I dare say that it is very hard for a boy at that age, to leave his family. Did you not miss your mother and father?"
"I did, at the beginning. But I was lucky to have a Captain who treated me as if I were his own son, that made it a bit easier for me."
"What was your first Captain's name, Price," Mr Campbell asked.
"His name was Harville. An excellent man, both as a seaman and a friend. I owe him a lot."
"Harville, you said? Might he be identical with the Captain Harville who lives in Lyme?"
William thought for a moment. "I heard that he had to leave the service after he was seriously wounded. It could be him, yes. How far is Lyme from here?"
"About twenty-five miles."
"Well, perhaps I'll try and pay him a visit then, as long as I am here. I'd like to see him again."
After dinner, Mrs Campbell left the two gentlemen to themselves for a while.
"So, Campbell, how is your business?"
"I cannot complain, Price. There is enough to do for four surgeons. The nearest surgeon is in Weymouth, and there is an apothecary in Chickerell, but else I am the only one around. My wife sometimes objects; she does not understand why I have to leave her alone so often. I tried to explain it to her, but it is no use. Well, she will get accustomed to it, sooner or later. But what about you?"
"Yes, what about me? I have just been transferred to a new vessel, the Achilles, and I have to be in Plymouth by the end of this month. We are going to sail to the Mediterranean."
"Who's the commander?"
"Admiral Crawford. It seems he still remembers me, after all those years. I'm not sure if I should take it as a compliment, though."
"It is a good sign, he might well be able to get you promoted sooner or later."
William shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I'll just have to wait and see what happens. It is not wartime any more, Campbell. All I can do is do my duty as well as I can, and hope that someone of consequence notices it. That is what I always have done."
"This is not your old "everybody gets made but me" sickness, is it, Price," Mr Campbell said, grinning.
William laughed. "No, it is not. I know that such things take time, and I am still a bit too young for a command. Being a lieutenant on an Admiral's ship is a start, after all, and time and hard work will do the rest."
"Well, at the moment you are my guest, Price, so please do not worry about Navy business. I want you to spend some pleasant weeks here."
"I am sure I will," William answered, drinking from his glass of port. "It has already started with a pleasant evening."
Part 6
The next morning, Liz decided to write a letter to her brother and sister, to let them know that she had arrived safely and that she liked Cranston very much. However, she did not find any writing paper in her desk, and so she resolved to go into town to buy some paper and ink.
Mrs Charles did not want to go with her; she thought it better to sit in the garden for a while. So Liz set off in the company of Sarah, the maid, and went into the shop while Sarah was heading for the butcher's.
She had made her purchase and was just looking at some cloth, when suddenly a female voice addressed her.
"Excuse me, Madam, but you do look so familiar to me. Is your name - by any chance - Elizabeth Martin?"
Liz turned around and saw a young woman of about Cathy's age, eagerly looking at her. Her face looked familiar to Liz, too, but she did not quite know where she had met that lady before.
"My name is Elizabeth Martin, yes. I think we have met..." Liz thought hard, but still she could not recall a situation when she had met that woman before.
"I was in the same school with you," the woman answered, looking at her expectantly. "Mrs Goddard's school in Highbury. You were there with your sister, Catherine."
Now Liz remembered her. "Eleanor Harrison! I am sorry, I should have remembered you before, but I have never been very good at remembering faces."
The lady smiled at her and said, "Well, you are right, my name was Eleanor Harrison then. But now my name is Campbell."
"So you are married! How wonderful! Congratulations! And you are settled here in Cranston?"
"Yes, my husband is the surgeon here. But what is it that brings you here? After all, it is not the nearest way from Highbury to Cranston."
"I came here with a friend, Mrs Charles."
"I see. How are your family? Are they all well?"
"Oh yes, they are, thank you. My sister Catherine got married in March, she married Mr George Mason from Donwell."
"George Mason? Oh, she must be very happy then. I remember Mr Mason, he is a very agreeable man, is he not?"
"Indeed, he is, Mrs Campbell."
"You used to be friends with that girl, what was her name...Harriet Something.... very pretty, short, with blond curls... Have you heard from her lately?"
"You mean Harriet Smith, Mrs Campbell. Harriet is married with my brother."
"Is she? Now that is good news! I am afraid I have to leave you now, Miss Martin, but I would be very honoured if you paid me a visit one of these days. I live in Main Street, just over there."
"I will be glad to come, Mrs Campbell."
Mrs Campbell left the shop, waving her a short good-bye. Liz sighed. Eleanor Harrison...she had not changed a bit. Now she could remember her very well, and what she thought was not really pleasing. Miss Harrison had always been the sort of girl who had put herself forward and had taken the slightest opposition as a personal insult. Her main interest had been other people's affairs, and she had always tried to extract as much information from others as possible, without being obliged to tell much about herself. The trouble was that she always succeeded somehow.
Eleanor Harrison - pardon, Campbell - was the very last person she had expected to meet in Cranston, and even if she had never really liked her in their school days, Mrs Campbell was her only acquaintance in Cranston, besides Mr Searle. So, in a way, Liz depended on her.
Going to see her and spending some time with her will do me no harm, Liz thought. It is not as if I am going to spend a lot of time in her company, after all, I am here as a companion for Mrs Charles and am not supposed to socialise much more than she does.
When Liz arrived home, she told Mrs Charles that she had met a former schoolmate in town.
"Have you, indeed!" Mrs Charles exclaimed. "Now that is good for you, is it not? I have to admit I have already been worried about taking you here with me, not knowing any people in this town at all. After two weeks you would have been fed up with being confined to this house and my company. Now you have made Mr Searle's acquaintance, you will meet his sister soon, I am sure, and this school friend of yours...what is her name again? Mrs Campbell?"
"Yes, her name is Mrs Campbell."
"There, a familiar face a hundred miles from home. Who would have thought of it? But I am very happy for you, Elizabeth, and you must not neglect this friendship."
"There has never been any such thing as friendship between me and Mrs Campbell, Mrs Charles."
"Then this is a good time to start a friendship, Elizabeth! I know you do not really like to make people believe that you like them more than you actually do, but in this particular case I'd recommend you to be a bit more diplomatic. She is a respectable woman and will introduce you to the society here in Cranston. She can be a valuable acquaintance, and if I were you I'd be very careful not to snub her."
"I have no intention of snubbing her, Mrs Charles. I am going to pay her a visit tomorrow. Do you want to accompany me?"
"No, we have not yet been introduced...but I'll go to the church and will pick you up at Mrs Campbell's on my way home."
Liz did not really look forward to that visit, but Mrs Charles was right. She was not in the position to ignore an acquaintance that might be able to be of service to her. There was no way but to pay Mrs Campbell a formal visit, and to hope that Mrs Campbell did not insist on a closer relationship.
The next day, Liz and Mrs Charles set off into the direction of the church, and Liz stopped at Mrs Campbell's house. She rang the doorbell and cast another longing glance at Mrs Charles, before a maid opened the door and asked her to come in.
Liz was shown into a small, but cosy parlour, where Mrs Campbell was sitting by a table, doing some needlework.
"Ah, Miss Martin! Good morning!" she said, rising. "Welcome to my house. What do you think of it?"
Liz was glad to have a topic to talk about with Mrs Campbell, and complimented her on her home. This kept Mrs Campbell busy for some time, after all she needed to tell Liz in every particular how much time it had taken her to find the perfect fabric for the curtains, and how she had first thought that the other one she had seen and that had looked so pretty in the shop would be much nicer, but that she was now glad to have chosen that one because it matched so well with the carpet...
Several days in a carriage with Mrs Charles had prepared Liz very well for such a lecture, so she pretended to be very interested and nodded and said, "Indeed, Mrs Campbell," or "You are so right, Mrs Campbell," from time to time.
After a few minutes, the topic of furniture had been thoroughly treated, and there was a pause of conversation. Mrs Campbell took up her needlework again, and Liz tried to think of a way to leave soon without appearing too rude. As she had to wait for Mrs Charles, Liz tried to change the topic, at least.
"How is your husband, Mrs Campbell? He is very busy, I suppose."
Mrs Campbell put her embroidery down for a moment and sighed.
"I sometimes think that people fall ill at the most inconvenient times. It is so very troublesome when they turn up in the middle of the night, or during a dinner party, to fetch him away. And he always goes with them, whatever it may be. I tried to persuade him to be less...available for everybody, but he doesn't seem to listen. I do not know what to do with him."
Even though Liz did not know Mr Campbell yet, she liked him. He seemed to be a man who took his work seriously, who had dedicated his life to helping others, and in her opinion there was nothing wrong with that. If Mrs Campbell was not able to accept this, she should not have married him. Surely she had known about his profession before.
"I am sure he is highly respected in Cranston, Mrs Campbell."
"Oh yes, he is, and it is just what he deserves. The local people seem to like him very much. Well, perhaps it has to do with his former profession, he used to be in the Navy before he came here."
"I see, so he must have had a particular wish to stay near the sea. I can understand him there, I have only been here for three days now and I am already fascinated by the sea."
"I cannot find anything fascinating about it."
How on earth did Mr Campbell find this woman, and what made him fall in love with her, Liz thought. She does not like his profession, she does not understand his liking for the sea...Poor man!
"Tell me, Miss Martin, if you are not otherwise engaged tomorrow evening, would you come to dine with us? I am planning to have a small dinner party; I have invited Mr and Mrs Adams, and my husband's friend Mr Price will be here too. I am sure you will like Mr Price, he is a very agreeable gentleman," Mrs Campbell added with a sly look.
Oh, you think so, do you, Liz thought, determined not to like Mr Price, just to oppose Mrs Campbell. And, if it was possible, she had to find an excuse so she did not have to come to that dinner party at all...still, it would at least be some entertainment, and she remembered what Mrs Charles had said... Be careful not to snub her.
"I would love to come, Mrs Campbell, but you see, there is Mrs Charles..."
"Oh, she is very welcome, too, Miss Martin."
"Well, that is the problem, Mrs Campbell. Mrs Charles is in mourning for her husband, so I am afraid she will not be able to accept the invitation. I have come here to be her companion, and I cannot leave her all to herself. It would not be right."
"Nonsense, Miss Martin, I am sure Mrs Charles can do very well without you for one evening. I do not believe she will want to keep you away from your friends! She has no claim to do so, has she?"
Liz sighed inwardly. This woman was really a trial for her nerves.
"I can ask her, Mrs Campbell, but I cannot accept an invitation without having talked to Mrs Charles about it."
The maid knocked at the door and told them that Mrs Charles had come to take Miss Martin home with her. Liz rose.
"Would it be convenient if I asked Mrs Charles and sent you a message in the course of today, Mrs Campbell?"
Mrs Campbell agreed, Liz took leave of her, and left the house to meet Mrs Charles.
"So, how did you enjoy your visit with Mrs Campbell," Mrs Charles asked as they walked on.
"Not very much, to be honest. It was just what I imagined it to be. First she showed off with her furniture, although I have to admit that she really has a good taste in furnishing her house. Then she told me how vexing it is if one's husband is so busy. She behaved as if people needed a surgeon just to annoy her."
Mrs Charles laughed. "I guess she would prefer her husband to be at home, but that is nothing new. A newly wed wife always wants her husband around her. After a few years she is quite happy if he is NOT always around her."
Liz smiled. Mrs Charles had always been fond of her husband's company, as far as she knew, but she did not want to remind her of her husband, now that she seemed to be in such excellent spirits.
"Mrs Campbell has invited me to dinner tomorrow, but I am still not sure if I am going to accept," she said. "What would you advise me to do?"
"Go there, by all means, Elizabeth. It will do you good to be among people of your own age."
"But that would mean that I'd have to leave you on your own, Mrs Charles. I am not sure if it is right to do so."
"Don't be ridiculous, Elizabeth. I asked you to be my companion, not my prisoner. And," she added, smiling, "it gives us something to talk about. I expect a complete report about that evening, of course. This will amuse me, even if I cannot be there myself." Mrs Charles smiled.
"But will you get along on your own? I do not wish to inconvenience you in any way."
"Elizabeth, a woman of my age usually knows how to pass her time, even if she is on her own. Never mind me, go to Mrs Campbell's and amuse yourself. I'll have a nice quiet evening by the fireside, and I'll go to bed early."
So Elizabeth, on returning home, wrote a note informing Mrs Campbell that she would gladly accept her invitation, and sent Peter to Mrs Campbell's to deliver the letter.
Liz spent the rest of the day deciding what to wear for that occasion, and wondering about Mr Campbell and the mysterious Mr Price.
I wonder what they are like, she thought, and decided that she would definitely not let Mrs Campbell interfere with her own affairs, in which way she would ever try to do so. She only hoped that Mr Price was not too agreeable, or it would be very hard not to like him.
Part 7
The next day, Mrs Campbell returned Liz's visit, and was introduced to Mrs Charles. The two ladies became friends at once; with Mrs Charles being as eager to hear local gossip as Mrs Campbell was to get rid of the latest news, this was no wonder. Liz was sitting in the drawing room with them, and tried to find out what was so very interesting about the fact that Mr Maynard, the customs officer, was not yet married, and what a certain Miss Rigby had said about this.
Liz suppressed a yawn and cast a longing look out of the window. She wished to go for a walk, the weather was so fine, and the garden was so inviting...
Then there was a knock at the door, and Mr Searle and his sister were announced. Liz's face brightened at once. Now at least someone would want to have some intelligent conversation.
Miss Searle was a young girl of sixteen, with a fresh countenance and pretty manners. She was...well, there was only one term one could use to describe such a young lady, "the sweetest creature in the world".
After five minutes of acquaintance, she already swore that she had never had "such a dear friend as Miss Martin" before, and asked her to accompany her on a walk the next morning. Liz was glad to get the opportunity of walking with someone who knew the place very well, and assented willingly. Miss Searle would be able to point out the places of interest in the scenery, and perhaps she could also persuade her brother to go with them? Liz half wished that it might be so. The more she saw of Mr Searle, the more she liked him.
In a way, Miss Searle in her unpolished and yet friendly manner, and in her keenness to be friends with her, reminded Liz of a young puppy, and won Liz's heart at once.
Then Miss Searle touched the topic of next week's assembly.
"Dear Miss Martin, will you be there too? It will be so much fun. I long for a dance. I haven't danced for AGES, I declare! Please, you MUST come, Miss Martin. She simply must, am I right Richard?"
She turned to her brother for assistance. "Tell Miss Martin that she must go there, too, or I won't be able to enjoy the evening."
Mr Searle smiled at Liz and said, "I think I have nothing to add to what my sister has said, Miss Martin. As you can see, Emily is quite determined to have you there, and who am I to contradict her? To be sure, the evening would only be half as enjoyable if you were not there."
Liz tried to explain to Miss Searle that it was not proper for a young lady like her to go to an assembly without a chaperone, and as Mrs Charles was recently widowed and not supposed to go to a ball, there would be no chance for her to go, either.
Then Mrs Campbell said, "But, Miss Martin, of course you have a chaperone. You can go with my husband and me, and I will take good care of you. Mrs Charles, what do you think, can you spare Miss Martin for one evening?"
"Certainly, Mrs Campbell." Mrs Charles turned to Liz. "That is, if you want to go, Elizabeth."
Liz thought for one moment. It was, indeed, a tempting thought to go to that assembly, even if it meant that she had to put up with Mrs Campbell as her chaperone. After all, it also meant that Mr Searle and his sister would be there...
"I am sure it will be a pleasant evening," Liz said and was rewarded with a radiant smile from Mr Searle.
Miss Searle was thrilled, and did express her pleasure in no uncertain terms.
"Oh, the fun we will all have, will we not, Richard? Mrs Campbell, thank you ever so much for offering to take Miss Martin with you, now I have one more thing to look forward to! Believe me, Miss Martin, this will be the most delightful evening you've ever had!"
Liz had to smile at such enthusiasm, and said, "I am sure I will enjoy myself excessively, Miss Searle."
Then the visitors took leave, Miss Searle not without extracting from Liz another promise to walk with her the next day.
Shortly after that, Liz went into the garden with a book. She had found a quiet, shady spot under one of the trees, where she could sit and read without being seen or disturbed.
However, she could not concentrate on reading very well. One thing troubled her. Why was she thinking of Mr Searle all the time? What was it that made her hope that he might step in every moment? She had never felt like this before...
Come on, Liz you are not going to fall in love with Mr Searle, are you? Certainly you are the very last woman he would fall in love with. Pull yourself together, will you?
When Liz arrived at Mrs Campbell's that evening, she realised that she was the first guest. She was shown into the drawing room, and Mrs Campbell introduced the gentlemen to her.
Mr Campbell was a man of about thirty-five, with an agreeable face and pleasing manners. He was an earnest, intelligent man, and there was something about him that made Liz like him immediately. He welcomed her and asked her a few questions about her journey, and even though these were commonplace questions, merely asked for the purpose of keeping up the conversation with a new acquaintance, Liz felt that Mr Campbell was genuinely interested in what she had to say.
Mr Price was about the same age as Liz's brother, Robert. He was tall and handsome, and very gentleman-like. Against her will Liz had to admit that Mr Price was very pleasant company, even if Mr Searle was much more agreeable in her opinion.
Just as his friend, Mr Price was very attentive and willingly answered all her questions. There were quite a lot of them, as Liz was eager to hear about all the foreign places where Mr Price had been, and he had a way of telling his stories that captured all his listeners' attention. Liz caught herself laughing heartily at Mr Price's jokes, and now she knew that she would never be able not to like Mr Price. Still, she would not do Mrs Campbell the favour to fall in love with Mr Price - no way!
When Mr and Mrs Adams arrived, they all went to the dining room, and Liz and Mr Price were separated for the moment. Liz was seated between Mr Adams and Mr Campbell, and so her conversation was restricted to the topic of her family, Highbury and her opinion of Cranston.
"I understand you were in school with my wife, Miss Martin," Mr Campbell said.
"That is right, Mr Campbell, I met your wife in Mrs Goddard's school in Highbury."
"According to what she has told me, Highbury seems to be a delightful place, Miss Martin."
"Oh, yes, it is, Mr Campbell."
"Where does your family live, Miss Martin," Mr Adams asked.
"They live on a farm near Highbury, Mr Adams. My brother and mother live there, that is, my sister lives in Donwell with her husband."
"Well, Miss Martin, and how do you like Cranston," Mr Adams asked. "Have you already got used to the place?"
"I like Cranston very much, sir. It is a very pleasant town, and I did not expect to meet so many agreeable people here. I am quite happy to be here." Liz smiled.
Mr Adams was content with her answer, and for a few minutes, none of them spoke, until Mr Campbell said, "My wife said you were going to join us at the assembly next week."
"That is right, Mr Campbell, your wife has been so kind as to offer to take me with her."
Mr Price, having overheard her last sentence, looked at her across the table and smiled approvingly.
There is something about the way he smiles, Liz thought. It looks as if he wants me to be there, too.
Mr Campbell smiled. "Another reason to look forward to the assembly, then."
Had Mr Campbell not been a married man, Liz might have rated this comment as an attempt of flirtation, but in his case she took it as a simple compliment.
"Thank you, Mr Campbell," was all she said.
After dinner, the ladies were in the drawing room, talking about the local gossip. Liz felt a bit bored, but she took care not to show it. To keep herself occupied, she went over to the small piano and took a look at the sheets of music. Mrs Campbell's taste in music was good, Liz had to grant that. Perhaps she ought to play a bit? No, music would be wasted on those two ladies...they were far more interested in gossip and would only feel disturbed by music.
Then Mrs Campbell addressed her.
"Miss Martin, you have made the acquaintance of Miss Searle today. What do you think of her?"
"I think she is a delightful young lady," Liz answered cautiously. "But to be able to tell you what I think of her I need to know her better."
"Oh, she is delightful. The only problem is that she behaves in a very improper way, what do you say, Mrs Adams?"
Mrs Adams agreed. "Miss Searle is too straightforward, sometimes. Her brother would be well advised to make her mind her tongue a bit more."
Liz thought for a while. Miss Searle's straightforwardness had not disturbed her at all, on the contrary, it had been refreshing to meet a person who showed her feelings so openly, and given the choice between Mrs Campbell and Miss Searle, Miss Searle would always be her favourite.
Somehow she felt that she had to defend Miss Searle.
"Perhaps, Mrs Adams, this is due to her youth. Miss Searle is still very young, don't you think that she will learn how to check herself when she gets older and has more experience in society? Her behaviour is very much like a child's. I am sure she will change when she gets older."
I sound like an old matron, Liz thought. Miss Searle is only three years younger than I am!
Mrs Adams nodded. "You have made a good point there, Miss Martin. We must consider Miss Searle's youth. Besides her lack of self-control, she is a very friendly and good-hearted girl. If only her brother got married, I am sure the influence of a lady might do Miss Searle good. What do you think, Mrs Campbell, Miss Rigby might be just the match for Mr Searle?"
Liz's face darkened. Even though she did not know Miss Rigby, she hated her.
The conversation stopped when the gentlemen joined them. Liz was glad to see them. It seemed that Mr Campbell and Mr Price were the only pleasant company she could expect that evening. Perhaps Mr Price could be prevailed upon to tell her some more of his experiences at sea? She felt a pang of disappointment when he sat down next to Mrs Campbell and talked to her.
Mr Campbell joined her and Mrs Adams and they talked about some poor family in Cranston, who were clearly Mrs Adams's protégés, and who were in the medical care of Mr Campbell. Liz liked to listen to Mr Campbell when he was talking about his occupation, one could see clearly that he did not only work for his living, but also for his private satisfaction.
Meanwhile Mrs Campbell suggested a card game, and a card table was set up. Liz was asked to join in, and she gladly accepted. Mrs Campbell was to play with Mr Adams, and Mr Price was to be Liz's partner.
Mr Campbell and Mrs Adams had both expressed a wish to be left out of the game, as Mrs Adams was not fond of card games and Mr Campbell felt it to be his duty to attend to his guest.
During the game, Liz took the opportunity to look at Mr Price more closely. He was very handsome, one had to admit that. Then she noticed that Mr Price was looking at her too, and smiling. Somehow she felt caught, and averted her gaze.
What will he think of me, she thought. Staring at him that way. Where are your manners, Liz?
Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and the maid came in, heading towards Mr Campbell.
Liz could not really hear what she said, because she was speaking in a low voice, but she could tell that it was something serious. Mr Campbell rose at once, and went to the card table.
"I am afraid I will have to leave you now," he said. "There has been an accident, and my help is needed."
"Oh, why do such things always happen when I expect to have a nice evening with you and our guests," Mrs Campbell exclaimed angrily. "Can't people take more care of themselves? It is extremely vexing!"
Mr Campbell's face grew pale and he looked as if she had hit him right into his face, but only for a moment, then he resumed his calm and easy manner, apologised once more for his sudden departure, and left them without saying one more word to his wife.
Liz tried hard not to show her displeasure with Mrs Campbell. How could a person possibly be so selfish in a moment like that? Any other woman would have shown concern for the poor person who needed a surgeon, but not Mrs Campbell. All she could think of was that her dinner party was ruined, which was not true, at least not because Mr Campbell had had to leave them.
Mrs Campbell still lamented how inconvenient it was to be married with a surgeon, and while Mr and Mrs Adams tried to reason with her, Liz had to use all her self-control to remain silent.
Then she looked at Mr Price, and had to smile. He had arched his eyebrows and gave her a meaningful look. So he shared her opinion...
It seemed as if she had made a friend.