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Chapter 11, Part 2

Elinor arrived at the front doors of McNeill House, and looked towards the brightly lit cafeteria that was still teeming with people. She didn't want to be with anybody just yet, so she unlocked the front door and climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. After mulling over the contents of that conversation and preparing herself for what Edward was going to tell her tomorrow, Elinor opened her Greek Mythology textbook and began reading the chapter on Medea and Jason.

Elinor had barely gotten past the first three pages when Marianne returned from dinner. She was accompanied by Lizzy, and was laughing heartily at a crack Lizzy had made about their psychology professor, when she stumbled into the room and saw Elinor.

"You're back!" Marianne said, genuinely surprised. She had assumed that Edward had taken her out to dinner when Elinor didn't show up to eat with them. "How'd it go?"

"It was okay," answered Elinor, not bothering to look up from her book.

"Where'd he take you for dinner?"

"He didn't."

"WHAT?" Marianne looked indignant.

"We went for a walk in a park."

"Aw," Marianne cooed, as she slipped off her coat and eased into her chair. "That's cute."

"It's not what you think." Still she hadn't looked up from the page.

"Whatever," dismissed Marianne, "You're not fooling me with that 'I don't really care' attitude."

"Think what you will then."

Elinor was beginning to feel rather resentful towards Marianne's attitude. It was bad enough that things were not as Marianne had imagined, but it almost felt like Marianne was rubbing things in her face. Even though she knew her sister was not the one to blame, the rush of irritation just couldn't be contained within her and she felt her face contort in anger. Elinor turned away to hide the expression from Marianne.

Marianne swallowed uncertainly. She knew Elinor had turned away from her because she had said something that had irked her sister, but she wasn't sure what it was. Elinor seemed angry about something, but Marianne didn't have much experience in dealing with an angry Elinor. From what she could remember, Elinor rarely got upset at anything. Marianne remembered the time when their father had first told them of his divorce from their mother. Margaret had screamed and cried, while she had flown into a rage and stormed out of the room; Elinor, however, had remained sitting, as composedly as ever-- like a sponge that had absorbed water.

A short stretch of silence passed between the sisters, until Lizzy, who had been standing at their door, completely ignored by both sisters, spoke.

"There's a gathering that's going on in Emma's room tonight. Want to come?"

Elinor looked up from her textbook as if realizing Lizzy's presence for the first time, and looked highly embarrassed. She couldn't believe she had lost her self-restraint in front of someone who was not family.

Marianne nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah, that's right! You should come. It'll be a blast."

"What's it about?" Elinor asked.

"Well, midterm marks came out today for physics and Emma got one of the highest marks in the class. She says that she's going to take the night off and celebrate." Lizzy looked as if she didn't believe Emma would be capable of celebrating for a whole evening.

Elinor looked dubiously at Lizzy, "Is this a joke?"

Lizzy and Marianne shook their heads. Elinor stared at them some more and then shrugged and shut her books.

"Okay, let's go."

Phil Elton was the only person in the room when the three girls arrived at Emma's open door. He was sprawling on Emma's bed, twirling a lock of his silky brown hair listlessly. Harriet was sitting at her desk in front of her computer typing to someone. Looking over at Emma, they saw that she was also typing a message.

Uh-oh!

The sound came from Emma's computer and she reached for her mouse and double clicked on the flashing incoming message. She read it and snorted.

"Oh Knightley, you crack me up" she sighed as she began typing back her response.

Lizzy knocked to get their attention. "Where is everybody?"

Emma turned away from her monitor, her hands continued typing, and answered, "Chuck is still in Jane's room. They'll be coming by in a few more minutes. I think Will said he was going to come, so Caroline will probably be waltzing into this room right after he shows up."

"Will's coming?" Lizzy asked frowning slightly. "Why?"

Emma shrugged as she turned back to her computer and sent her message. "Beats me. He's been acting so strange lately that I've stopped wondering why." She gave Lizzy a sly look, and added, "Although, if you ask me. I think he as an agenda for coming tonight."

Lizzy seized the nearest pillow and chucked it Emma. "Keep your match making aspirations to yourself. I'm here to get a Bachelor's degree, not a Mrs. Degree."

Emma swept the pillow off her desk and waved for Elinor and Marianne to come into the room. Then she turned to Phil, "Go sit on Harriet's bed. My friends get priority for seats on my bed."

"Oh that's nice," said Phil, but like a faithful little dog, he migrated over to Harriet's bed.

Harriet spun 180 degrees in her chair to stare at Emma, who only smiled knowingly in return. Cringing, ever so slightly, Harriet turned back to her computer and tried to catch Phil's eye, but he wasn't paying attention. Her efforts were lost to the bubble he was blowing with his gum and the lock of hair he was twirling.

Harriet sighed. She really needed to tell Emma that maybe she was wrong about Phil liking her. Emma had told her to read the signs, and Harriet has been trying; however, no matter which way she looked at Phil's behaviour towards her, it didn't seem like he was interested. She broached it once with Emma, and it was met with a mad lecture about knowing when guys were playing hard-to-get. Harriet thought she saw more of 'don't-wanna-be-gotten', than 'hard-to-get' in Phil Elton, whenever he was with her. She didn't mind though; she didn't really like Phil Elton anyway.

Robert Martin, on the other hand, was more her type, Harriet believed. True, he did not look like George Clooney, but she welcomed his company more than Phil's. Yesterday when he had received another care package from his mother, he had immediately called her over so they could open it together. He told her that he had called his mother last week and told her to send more butter tarts because he knew Harriet liked them. His mother had actually sent him two boxes full of butter tarts. He gave her one of the boxes. She thought that was very sweet of him-no pun intended.

Harriet turned back to the ICQ message she was writing to Robert just as Chuck and Jane came into the room. The two looked around and sat down on the floor. Harriet looked concerned. She wanted to invite Robert, but the room was becoming too crowded. Maybe she ought to ask Emma.

"Emma?"

"Yeah?" Emma didn't look up from her computer.

"Can I ask Robert to come and join us?"

Emma tutted and sighed impatiently, "Why? It's getting too crowded in here."

Harriet was expecting such an answer and wrote back to Robert telling him that she was going to be busy tonight. To tell the truth, she would have preferred going over to Robert's room instead of staying here with everyone else. She always felt rather left out whenever she was with the girls. It seemed to her that everyone was special in some way except for her. All of the girls seemed to be smart and she felt rather dull next to them.

Harriet sighed. Nobody heard her. They never did.

Robert wrote her to wish her goodnight and then he logged off. Harriet turned off her monitor. She felt like she had just lied to Robert.

"Who are you writing to?" Lizzy asked Emma. "You've barely looked up from your computer ever since we came in."

"It's just George Knightley. You've met him, remember?"

Lizzy recollected, "Ah, yes. That guy who picked you up for Thanksgiving weekend. He's hot! I wouldn't mind getting set up with him. Or is he reserved material for you?"

Emma glared at Lizzy. "I'm not setting you guys up. It'd be... like my best friend dating my brother. Ew..."

"Oh, but I don't mind" teased Lizzy.

"Well, I do!"

Uh-Oh!

Emma returned to her computer, and read Knightley's message it said:

I just remembered that it is your birthday next week, want me to come down and take you home?

Emma wrote back:

Can't. I've got another Math Mastery test to study for.

Then she waited for Knightley to write back. The reply came very quickly. It read:

Okay. I just thought that you might want to come home for your birthday. It'll be your first birthday away from home. By the way, your dad told me that your mom's present got here today.

Emma wrote:

Why don't you come and visit me? Then you came bring my present down with you.

Knightley wrote back:

I'll try, but no promises, okay?

Emma wrote:

But then you'll be leaving me here all by myself for my birthday!

There was a short pause, and Knightley wrote:

I know. I'm sorry, but I really will try to be there. What about your friends? Are they going to do something for you birthday?

Emma wrote:

I think so. But the only time we have is at night, because most of us have the Mastery test on the same day. That means I'm going to spend most of my birthday by myself in my own room. Aren't you going to feel sorry for me and come visit?

Knightley wrote back:

LOL! But seriously, won't I be in the way if I go and visit you?

Emma quickly typed:

OF COURSE NOT!!! I'd love to see you again. Fighting with you online is not as fun as fighting with you in person.

Knightley wrote:

I'm not quite sure how I should feel about that, but for the time being I'm more inclined to feel a little insulted than flattered. Is that all I'm good for?

Emma giggled silently to herself and typed back:

You make killer spaghetti. That ought to count towards something, but I still say the best use for you is to fight with me.

Knightley retorted with:

Indeed, someone ought to keep your feet on the ground, and make sure your head doesn't become over inflated with too much flattery.

Emma typed:

No one flatters me around here

Knightley typed back:

Phil Elton?

Emma looked behind her at Phil who was flipping through her CDs with Harriet, and with a triumphant smile typed:

That's where you are wrong. Phil's interests are with someone else. I thought I told you about that.

Knightley wrote back, and Emma swore she could sense him smirking in front of his screen as he typed:

Yes, you did tell me, but I don't agree with you on this one. Do you honestly think that a person like Phil could ever like a person like Harriet? Emma, I thought you were smarter than that.

Emma gave her computer screen an affronted look and typed:

What do you mean a 'person like Harriet'? She's a very nice girl that any guy would like. You're just like those typical piggish guys in high school who only date girls with good figures and no brains whatsoever!

Knightley wrote back:

Calm down! I don't have any issues with Harriet. I met her when you moved in during Frosh Week and I spent some time with her during Thanksgiving. I think she is a very nice girl. I'm just saying that Harriet isn't Phil's type. Trust me. I know more about this stuff than you. And what are you doing playing matchmaker? Aren't you supposed to be studying?

Emma wrote:

Not right now. I've got some people in my room. We're having a 'gathering' in honour of my spectacular performance in the physics midterm.

Knightley wrote back:

Okay, I'll leave you alone then.

Emma typed:

But are you going to come down for my birthday?

However, Knightley never got the message because he had logged offline before Emma could send it

"Fine! Don't wait for me to say goodbye." said Emma in mild indignation.

"Something wrong on the home front?" asked Lizzy.

"No, just Knightley being too much like a brother."

Lizzy raised an eyebrow, "And you have a problem with that?"

"Not exactly," said Emma contemplatively. She looked around the room. "Who are we still missing? I thought Will and Caroline were coming. And Marianne, where is John?"

"He had an engineering meeting today," said Marianne. "He told me he might try to drop by if they finish early."

"Is that what he told you?" asked Will, who had just arrived.

Marianne looked suspicious, "Yeah. Why'd you ask?"

"No reason. Just asking, that's all." Will replied as he stepped into the room and took off his jacket.

Lizzy recognized the expression on his face. It was the same look of discomfort that he had when he had tried to avoid telling her the truth about the breakfast meeting during Thanksgiving. She wanted to ask Will what he knew about John Willoughby that they didn't, but decided not to. After all, today was Emma's celebratory gathering, and she didn't want to dampen the mood by arousing Marianne's suspicions about John.

"Where's Caroline?" asked Jane.

"Stuck in a bathroom stall, I hope," Marianne muttered under her breath.

Lizzy, and Emma heard her and laughed. Elinor looked disapproving; Jane looked pained; and Harriet hoped that they didn't talk about her like that behind her back. Chuck only shook his head and smiled, while Will stared openly at Lizzy.

Lizzy stared back at Will and snapped, "Is there something strange stuck to my face?"

Will shrugged, "No."

"He's just being protective of his girlfriend," teased Emma.

"Caroline's not my girlfriend," protested Will. He had gone red in the face.

"Then why are you turning all red?" asked Emma cheekily.

Lizzy stood by and watched, clearly enjoying the sight of Will being tormented by her friends.

However, it was not to last for long, as Elinor came to the rescue and said in her typical older sister tone, "Hey, guys. Play nice." This put a stop to their teasing, much to Will's relief, and some of the girls' displeasure.

The conversation then turned to music.

"Emma?" Harriet began timidly.

"Yeah."

"You have a CD burner right?"

"Yeah."

"Will you be able to burn me a copy of your Aqua CD?"

"Aqua?" asked Will, incredulous.

"I-I like it," stammered Harriet, clearly intimidated by Will's expressed disapproval.

Lizzy immediately sprung to Harriet's defense, "Tastes differ, Will. Do you have a problem with individuality? Out to conquer the world and homogenize everyone?"

Will furrowed his brows, "No. What did I say that gave you that impression?"

Before Lizzy could respond, Elinor quipped in, "Hey, didn't I tell you to play nice?"

Under her breath, Lizzy muttered something about being a sissy and having girls fight his battles for him, and turned away. Luckily, Will didn't hear her, or at least pretended he didn't hear her.

"So can you burn me a copy of that CD?" Harriet didn't want to mention the name of the CD in front of Will again.

"Sure, hand it to me," said Emma.

"Burn me one too," said Phil.

"I didn't know you liked Aqua," said Emma, surprised.

Phil shrugged, "I just want to give it a try." He winked and added, "You know, need to have some common interests."

Emma gave Harriet a significant look and Harriet obediently blushed; she was getting quite good at simpering and blushing on cue.

"Sure, no problem." Emma said, "In fact, I think I can get it done tonight before you leave."

She slipped the CD into her computer and began the process of extracting the files onto her computer so she could transfer them onto a new CD. Knightley had taught her how to work her CD burner last summer. In fact, he was the one who took her to buy the computer in the first place.

For some odd reason, Emma's eyes began to smart as she thought about Knightley. It was true that this was going to be the first birthday she would spend away from home, but it wouldn't have felt so bad if Knightley could come down and visit. He had been invited to every single one of her birthday parties ever since she could remember, and now suddenly, to be without him on the day she was to turn nineteen...

Lizzy sidled up to Emma's desk and asked quietly, so no one else would hear, "Are you alright?"

Emma blinked rapidly and pulled a smile onto her face.

"Yeah," she answered. Then changed the subject, "What do you think about Harriet and Phil? They seem to be getting along really well."

"I gather from that that you are interested in setting the two of them up?"

"Of course! They're perfect for each other."

Lizzy stopped and studied the couple closely. Both seemed rather stiff and polite with each other. A plastic sort of smile seemed to be a permanent fixture on Harriet's face whenever Phil looked in her direction. Phil seemed too preoccupied with himself and tidbits from parts of other conversations to notice Harriet much. Lizzy found herself with a lack of comments to make about Emma's declaration. Perfect, she was sure, was not the word to describe Harriet and Phil.

"Why do you think that?" Lizzy had to ask.

"Just look at them. Phil's a good-looking guy and Harriet's really cute. They've known each other since Frosh Week and get along really well. It's only inevitable isn't it?"

"How come you haven't thought about Phil for yourself?" Lizzy asked. "Why Harriet and not you?"

Emma rolled her eyes, "Oh please." She looked towards Phil to make sure he wasn't listening and whispered, "He's really not my type-- a little too immature. I like guys who are older than me, if not, then they have to act older. That's why I think Phil would go better with Harriet's playful easy-going temper."

Lizzy looked at Phil and Harriet again. It still didn't look like things would turn out the way Emma predicted. However, matchmaking is a highly inaccurate art, and debating its probability is as precise as determining the number of levels to a girl's heart.

The rest of the evening passed idly away. Caroline did manage to show up at what she believed to be a 'fashionably late' hour. She felt rather left out of the conversation as they involved very little of topics such as fashion and popularity. This gave her an excuse to sit by Will and assail him with her opinions on the latest fashions and gossips from her group of friends back home. Not being stupid, Caroline would stop occasionally to ask Will about his sister, so he could take part, before steering the conversation back to the topics she felt comfortable with.

The crowd dispersed when Emma finished burning the CDs and handed them to Harriet and Phil. Lizzy had just arrived at her room door when Will rounded the corner accompanied by Chuck. They had been visiting Jane and Caroline before they headed back to Leonard Hall.

"I need to talk to Elizabeth about something," Lizzy heard Will mutter to Chuck.

"I'll wait for you downstairs then," said Chuck, and he bolted down the stairs smiling to himself. Finally, Will was going to talk to a girl that was not his sister or Carol.

Lizzy frantically inserted her key into the lock, hoping that if she worked fast enough, she would be able to shut the door on Will before he said a word. She felt her face burn and much to her frustration, her fingers, that were so deft at playing the piano, had miraculously lost their ability to put a simple key in a lock!

"Elizabeth," Will said, to her back.

Lizzy slowly turned around and held her head high so she could look him straight in the eyes. She wanted show him she was not afraid of him.

"Yeah?"

"You're Marianne's good friend right?"

"Yeah."

"I think it would be a good idea for you to tell her watch out for John Willoughby."

So, he was reverting back to using the same haughty tone he used during the brother floor event, Lizzy thought. She was going to show him that she was not going to be commanded about like some lowly servant.

"And why is that?"

"I've seen things, and I think, as her friend, you should warn her about John. Don't get too close to him. It's safer for her this way." Will was looking deep into her eyes now, willing her to believe him without question, just this once. He didn't want to gossip and spread news about other people. Why couldn't she just accept what he said and heed his advice?

"I'm not doing anything until you tell me a good reason why." Lizzy said and crossed her arms in defiance.

Will looked away.

"I don't like gossiping."

"It is not considered gossip if it is true. If you think you might be gossiping then what you were going to say about John Willoughby is probably not true."

"I saw him going out tonight with a crowd. I saw them just as I was heading out to join you guys in Emma's room today." Will confessed.

"It was the engineering study group." Lizzy reasoned.

Will shook his head slowly, "No, I don't think so."

"Then you're just being paranoid."

"Maybe. You should still warn Marianne though. It really isn't good for her to be hanging around a person like him."

"Has John somehow lost your good opinion sometime in the beginning of the year and now you want to ruin the rest of his social life? Because once your good opinion has been lost, it is lost forever." Lizzy reminded, ruthlessly.

Will ran his hands through his brown curls and snapped, "Fine. You know what? To hell with this! I'm trying to be nice, and you're not going to let me. Do whatever you want. I'm not going to bother you again."

He stomped off.

Lizzy watched his retreating back until it disappeared down the stairwell. If blood could boil, hers would have done so at that moment.

Chapter 12, Part 1

Friday morning dawned bitterly cold. Relentless winds and sheets of rain descended unceasingly upon the students as they trudged across campus to their respective classes. With their faces raw and stinging from the morning battle with the weather, our heroes and heroines stumbled into the cafeteria ravenous, eyeing the steaming trays, of what seemed to resemble macaroni and cheese, hungrily.

"Two more classes and a physics lab to go," counted Lizzy when she sat down with her tray, across from Emma and Harriet, "and then I'm free for the weekend. Hurrah!"

"You must really hate Fridays then," said Harriet, who had only three classes on Fridays.

Lizzy reached behind her and wrung out her hair before picking up her fork and saying, "Actually, I don't mind Fridays. I deliberately scheduled my classes this way because I knew that if I have a whole weekend of freedom to look forward to, I'd stay energized for Fridays. Besides, it's more tiring having labs and classes all squished into the middle of the week. Spread them out, that's what I find works for me."

Harriet looked at Lizzy with great admiration. "I could never do that. I'm having problems enough going to my three Friday classes, that if I have such a full schedule on Fridays, I would never want to get up in the morning."

Marianne arrived next, and set her tray down next to Lizzy.

"Anyone coming to the concert tonight?" asked Marianne, who had stayed up all night yesterday worrying about the concert, and phantom playing her pieces on her pillow. Regardless of her confident belief in her performing abilities, Marianne was still apt to get stage fright. Luckily, she always did it the night before the concert and not the night of the concert.

"Of course we're coming," said Emma.

"What are you planning on wearing?" asked Harriet.

"I'm singing in the choir so I have to wear the usual black on bottom and white on top," Marianne sighed. "I wish they could be a little more creative. In all my years of performing, it's always been the same thing."

"Are we talking about clothes?" asked John, who sat down next to Marianne, as usual, and planted a kiss solidly on her cheek. "If we are, then I'm getting out of here while I still can."

"No, no." Marianne said. "We're talking about the concert tonight, and it's just your bad luck that you came into the conversation when we were talking about the dress code for the performers."

John smacked himself hard on the forehead, "Was the concert tonight?"

Marianne looked concerned, "Yes."

"I thought it was tomorrow. You told me it was this weekend so I assumed it was going to be on Saturday."

"Well, the weekend starts on Friday evening for me," said Marianne, who looked close to tears. "Do you have something planned for tonight?"

John sighed heavily, "Yes, that's why I got a little angry at you just now. I'm sorry." He truly looked apologetic. "I have another engineering meeting tonight."

"But you had one yesterday!"

"I know, but we didn't get what we wanted to get done yesterday, so we scheduled another one for tonight. If I knew that the concert was today, I wouldn't have agreed to that time. I'm sorry."

Lizzy watched John and Marianne closely.

Will's caution yesterday had roused her curiosity about the true extent of John's feelings towards Marianne. For quite some time now, it has been known within the group, that John and Marianne were extremely fond of each other. Next to her sister and Lizzy, John was the person that Marianne spent the most time with. According to Elinor, they called each other every night before heading off bed, and have been seen around campus with their arms around each other talking intimately.

From what she could see, John did look very sorry for having gotten the date of the concert mixed up. He looked like he cared very much that he had let Marianne down and was causing her grief.

"If only Will was here now," Lizzy thought to herself. "Then he could see just how wrong he is."

Lizzy's wish seemed to have been granted, for Will arrived at the table just as she finished her thought. He took one look around and sat in the seat furthest from Lizzy, and consequently John. Without even saying hello to the assemble occupants at the table, Will picked up his sandwich and began eating, averting Lizzy's eyes.

"I guess you won't be coming to the concert tonight," said Marianne in a choked voice.

"I'm really sorry, but I can't. We've got the get this project done before the weekend. Some of the guys in the group are going home the next day, so we really have to get it done tomorrow." John explained.

Down the table, Will's hand stopped halfway in raising a glass of milk to his mouth. Slowly, he set it back down on his tray and turned to look at Lizzy. One look told her that what he had said yesterday, about not caring anymore, was not true. Much to Lizzy's amazement, Will was not looking triumphant, but concerned.

Why should he care so much? Lizzy wondered. Surely, Marianne did not mean that much to him. If Will would only look at the expression on John's face, he would know that John really cared about Marianne's happiness. Or was Will so prejudiced against John that he could only see aspects that would confirm his opinions of John?

Marianne's vividly blue eyes began welling up in the beginnings of what promised to be a dramatic sobbing scene. Will saw this, and spoke.

"There's a concert tonight? Are you playing in it?"

Marianne nodded, her throat too tight to speak. Beside her, John passed her a napkin and she dabbed daintily at her eyes.

"Uh..." Will frantically searched his brain for something appropriate to say, "Uh, is anyone allowed to go?"

Marianne nodded again, and managed a croaky, "Yes."

"That means I can go right?"

"If you want."

"Good, I'll ask Chuck if he wants to go too," said Will, and he turned back to his sandwich.

"There," said John in a soothing voice. "There are two other people going in my place to hear you sing. I'll ask them how the concert was, and I'm sure they'll tell me that you were magnificent." He leaned closer to Marianne and added, "I wouldn't object to a private concert the next day, you know."

Will's head snapped up from his lunch and he shot John a disapproving look down the table. John didn't see it, although Lizzy did, and felt torn about whether she ought to defend John's honour or agree with Will and defend Marianne's honour.

Marianne, however, didn't seemed to have minded. She laughed and nudged John playfully. Her previous disappointment had faded away as quickly as it had arisen.

After lunch, and the promise from everyone at the table to attend the concert tonight, the group went in their separate ways to attend their classes. Regardless of the weather, the hours spent in classes and labs didn't seem to last very long. For Elinor, however, four o'clock could not come soon enough.

Elinor's last class on Fridays was the Shakespeare class, which ended at exactly four o'clock. The park in which she was to meet Edward was all the way across campus from Watson Hall, the English building. Much to Elinor's dismay, her professor insisted on keeping the class up until the last minute with additional comments on The Tempest. Stepping out into the winds and freezing rain after class, Elinor couldn't help but smile cynically at the simple ironies in life.

She dashed across campus, squelching across the rugby field, and slipping on some deadly puddles next to the Biosciences Complex. Thoroughly drenched with mud seeping into her sneakers, Elinor arrive breathless at John A. MacDonald Park. The sky was already darkening and Elinor squinted through the fading light and the torrents of rain and saw absolutely no one in the park. Was she late?

Elinor checked her watch. It read: 4:05.

She was late.

But it was not like Edward to give up after five minutes! Or was it? After all, people change, and judging from his behavior yesterday, Edward had definitely changed since last year. Countless additional doubts raced through Elinor's practical head.

It was cold. She was wet, and desperately wanted to get out of the rain. However, Elinor didn't want to take her chances. She sat down on a park bench to wait. Edward might show up. He might be late.

The rain continued to beat down on the earth relentlessly, completely unaware of its role in the deconstruction of a broken heart that had only begun to heal.

Elinor didn't know how long she sat in the rain. It was only until Anne tapped on her shoulder and offered Elinor the use of her umbrella that she realized darkness had finally settled on the day. And still Edward had not shown up.

"What are you doing out here in the rain?" asked Anne.

Elinor wiped some drops of water away from her face. Whether they were tears or raindrops, she did not know.

"Is it okay if I don't talk about it?"

"Of course it is," said Anne, "but if you are ready, we could head back to residence. It's really miserable out here in the rain."

Elinor nodded, and under the protection of Anne's umbrella, the two slowly made their way across campus. Back in McNeill House, Anne led Elinor to the don's room and sat her in the couch intended for use in such situations.

"Thanks Anne," said Elinor, when Anne handed her a towel.

"That's what dons are for," Anne replied, and began busying herself with some soup she was heating on her stove. With the exception of the common room, Anne had the only room on the floor with a stove and a sink.

Elinor sat in silence and watched Anne prepare the soup. She felt numb all over, not just in her body, which was numb from the cold, but also in her mind. She could not understand why Edward had not shown up today. He had practically promised her that he would come. Did he think that rain would stop her from meeting him in the park? Did the rain stop him from coming to the park? Was there a reason wholly unconnected to her and the weather that had stopped him from being there today?

"You look very pensive," said Anne as she handed Elinor a bowl of soup.

Elinor took the soup from Anne and decided to ignore the comment. Instead, she asked, "What were you doing out by the park?"

"I work at Queen's daycare center and was just walking back to residence when I saw you."

A few moments of silence passed and Elinor asked, "Aren't you going to ask me what I was doing in the park?"

"No. You didn't want to tell me when I asked you earlier and I'm not going to ask you unless you're ready to tell me."

There was a trusting finality in her voice that made Elinor want to tell Anne everything. The problem was where to start. After taking a few sips of the chicken noodle soup, Elinor decided to start at the very beginning with how she met Edward. She didn't know how long she talked, but throughout the whole of her tale, Anne listened attentively -- her sympathetic brown eyes fixed unwaveringly on Elinor's face.

"And I was supposed to meet him today in the park where you found me, but he never showed up." Elinor finished. Her soup bowl was now empty and she set it down on the coffee table.

"So you sat in the rain to wait for him?"

Elinor nodded, "I was late, and I thought he would show up sooner or later. It could be that I was late and he left. But he would never do that."

"What if it was his brother and Lucy that stopped him from being there today?" asked Anne. She had said what had been eating away at Elinor ever since she saw that Edward was not at the park.

Elinor chewed nervously at her nails.

"I don't know," she answered. "So much has changed about him since last year that I don't know what's wrong anymore, and I'm not even sure if he really wanted to tell me. Do you think that I read his meaning incorrectly? I mean, he didn't say explicitly that he was going to meet me in the park at four today."

"You might have." Anne said, thoughtfully. "But if I was you, I would have assumed the same thing. From what you told me, it seemed very clear that he was planning on meeting you today in the park."

Elinor sighed and buried her head in her arms.

"Oh, but I still feel like such an idiot..." she moaned.

Anne patted Elinor's damp hair comfortingly. "Don't feel so badly. It wasn't your fault and it wasn't Edward's fault. I say, 'Blame it on the Rain.'"

Elinor laughed from under her arms. "Milli Vanilli. What compelled you to say that?"

Anne giggled too and answered, "Well, it's very fitting isn't it, in this situation? Ah, music..."

Elinor's head suddenly snapped up from her arms, a look of abject terror on her face.

"What's wrong?" Anne asked quickly.

"I totally forgot! It's Marianne's concert tonight! Quick! What time is it?" Elinor frantically pulled at her soaked shirtsleeve for her watch.

"It's six o'clock according to my clock," said Anne pointing to the clock on the wall.

Elinor breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, I still have time to shower and change." She stood up and handed Anne her towel. "Thanks for the talk and the soup, Anne."

"Are you going to be alright?" asked Anne.

"Of course," Elinor answered. "I'm always alright. Are you going to come to the concert tonight?"

"When is it?"

"Eight o'clock. I think most of the girls are going. We'll knock on your door before we head out."

Anne nodded and rose to shut the door after Elinor had left. It seemed to her that the more she knew about Elinor, the more she realized that there was a lot more to Elinor than what she cared to tell.

This disappointment to Elinor was just like the other ones. Except this time, she had someone to talk to, and like what Lizzy had said, she did feel much better after confiding in someone. Ever since her discovery of her father's infidelity, Elinor had become resigned to the inevitability of disappointments in her life. Today was not an exception.

Fifteen minutes before the start of the concert, the girls of McNeill 4 and their don trouped into Grant Hall and sat down towards the back of the room. Marianne had told them at dinner to sit at the back of the room because the acoustical build of Grant Hall made the sound accumulate at the back of the room. Little did they know that other things accumulated at the back of the room too.

"What do you mean there's been a change in plans?" asked Jackie, not bothering to keep her voice down.

"Like what I said, there's been a change in plans," answered Tina. "Look, I may be good at juggling, but there's only so much of this I can do before I drop something."

"So, what are you going to do?" asked Jackie.

"Well, I'm going to have to cut out some characters."

"No!" Jackie cried. "That's just... just... You can't!"

"Hear me out," said Tina. "Take Miss Bates. She really doesn't have much of a function except to talk nonsense and later be insulted by --" She was silenced by a jab from Jackie, who looked severely towards Emma and company.

Lizzy waved at them. "I haven't seen you two in a while," she said.

Tina shrugged, "Oh you know, we just come and go as we please."

Jackie choked and said through clenched teeth, "Shut up."

"Are you two here for the concert too?" asked Anne.

"I guess," said Jackie.

"Marianne's singing, and the Colonel is going to make his debut today," piped in Tina. "Ow!"

"I thought to told you to shut up," Jackie warned through the side of her mouth.

"They are so weird," whispered Harriet. "It's almost creepy."

Emma nodded in return, "I know. Are you getting the impression that they know things we don't know?"

Before Harriet could answer, the choir walked solemnly onto the stage and the concert began.

As promised, it was a very beautiful concert. Marianne sung her solo flawlessly and played her pieces with elegant execution. With such tasteful entertainment, time passed quickly and soon it was intermission.

There was the sound of heavy footsteps on the ancient floorboards of Grant Hall. The group turned to see who had arrived. For a moment, Elinor allowed herself to hope that it was Edward. Lizzy hoped that it was John, for Marianne's sake. But it was neither.

They saw a tall black-haired man who was completely drenched from his trek through the rainstorm. He wore a pair of black pants, with a white shirt and an old fashioned tie. Peeping through his beige overcoat, in his shirt pocket, were pens and a pair of reading glasses. He didn't seem to have noticed the pairs of curious eyes that were transfixed upon him. He only stared at the stage where Marianne had just finished playing Liszt's Liebestraum.

"Enter the Colonel," Tina whispered to Jackie.

Chapter 12, Part 2

A tall, slightly slouched, man strode out of the Kingston General Hospital and pulled out his umbrella. In an instant, the winds attacked it and flipped it inside out. The man fought impatiently with his umbrella until, in a moment of frustration, he tossed it in a trashcan. He was clearly unprepared for the sheets of sleet sweeping across campus. When he had arrived for his shift this morning, the weather had been generally foul, and he thought that his overcoat and umbrella would suffice. He assumed that the weather would only get better as the day went on, but after his twelve hour shift, it seemed to have gotten even worse. The weather however, did not take mercy on a man's misjudgment and proceeded to drop heavy buckets of rain that soaked the man's coal black hair; it now fell in limp strands across his face. Resigned to the inevitability of being soaked through, he strained his eyes through the darkness for the nearest building for him to take shelter.

This weather-defeated man's name was Dr. Christopher Brandon. He was originally from Calgary, and graduated from the Royal Military College six years ago with a degree in chemical engineering. After working for a year in a military hospital, Christopher Brandon applied, and was accepted, to the highly competitive medical school in the University of Toronto. He completed his medical schooling in four years and a year ago, left Toronto to pursue his field of specialization at the Kingston Region Cancer Centre near Kingston General Hospital. He had liked the city of Kingston when he was studying at the Royal Military College, and it was among one of his first choices when choosing a hospital to complete his degree in medicine.

Christopher pulled his coat closer about him and tried to push his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. Looking up ahead, his eyes spotted the clock tower of Grant Hall up ahead on University Avenue. The hall looked lit and he started towards it to take shelter.

The third oldest building on Queen's campus is Grant Hall, which is over a hundred years old. It is most noted for its four-faced clock tower, which marked the highest point on campus and, due to a miraculous piece of ingenuity by the Queen's engineers, always told four different times. For many years now, it has been a vital part of old Queen's traditions such as first year of orientation and graduation ceremonies in the fall. The Queen's Music Department also occupies the building at various times throughout the year for their recitals.

The winds carried strands of music from Grant Hall to Christopher's ears. For a moment he thought it was the wind, but it was not possible for such demonic winds to sound so heavenly. Like an intoxicating drink, the music beckoned him to approach, and like a man entranced, Christopher reached Grant Hall and pulled open the doors.

"Hi," said a student sitting at a table with a metal box and a stack of red programs.

Christopher snapped out of his reverie. He stared blankly at the girl sitting at the table.

"Would you like to buy at ticket?" asked the student.

"Sure," said Christopher, delving into his pockets for his wallet. "How much?"

"Three dollars please."

Christopher looked surprised that such angelic sounds could be purchased for a mere three dollars, and handed the girl a five dollar bill.

The student took the money and placed it inside the metal money box and produced the change. She handed them back along with a program.

"It's almost intermission. We're on page two, at the last song before intermission," informed the girl.

Christopher pocketed his change and said a word of thanks before heading off in the direction of the alluring song. As he walked, he opened his program to the suggested page and read the name of the song and the pianist.

"Liebestraum by Franz Liszt played by Marianne Dashwood."

Once inside the auditorium, he cast his fatigue-lined eyes up to towards the stage.

It is amazing how quickly the human mind changes. The same man whose sole desire, just moments ago, was to be at home with a hockey game on television, a large roast chicken sandwich, and some hot soup, now possessed no other thoughts on his mind, but to stay and listen to this captivating Marianne Dashwood forever.

Even years from now, he could not find the proper words to describe what it was about her that enchanted him. Music seemed to flow from her fingers like water down a waterfall; it was the way had nature intended. She swayed with the flow of the music she was charming out of the hard polished piano. The spotlight, that can make some people look ghostly white, seemed to be absorbed by Marianne. Her skin shone golden and the curls that cascaded down to her shoulders radiated like a veil of spring flowers.

Christopher stood transfixed between the rows of chairs, completely oblivious of input from all other senses but the sense of sight and sound. He cared not that he was cold, wet, and tired. All he wanted was to stand between the rows of chairs listening to the marvelous music that came from Marianne. However, like one waking from a wish-fulfilling dream, the piece came to an end and Christopher was left with a sense of loss and longing.

Somewhere, someone whispered, "Enter the Colonel" and he emerged from his trance. For the first time since he entered Grant Hall, he realized how odd he must look-- a lone person standing at the back of the room, soaked to the skin from the rain. He quickly ducked into a seat behind a row of people.

Elinor sat, quietly contemplating the man who had just taken a seat behind them. She knew that Marianne's soulful playing always had an effect on her listeners, but never, in all of Elinor's observations of Marianne's audience, did they react in such a way. He not only listened with his ears, but also with his soul. It is a rare ability that even some musicians do not possess. Elinor felt a need to meet this person and introduce him to Marianne. If eyes were indeed windows into a person's soul, then Marianne's passionate blue eyes, and this man's mysterious smoky green eyes would be perfect complements to each other.

At this moment, Marianne bounded out from behind the stage and demanded hugs and complements from all around.

"Did you guys like it? How was it?" She asked repeatedly.

"You were a show stealer," said Chuck.

"Definitely worth my three bucks," said Lizzy cheekily.

"You were great," said Harriet.

"Lots of improvement from last year," said Elinor.

"It was beautiful," said Jane.

"You were pretty good," said Will.

"It was okay," said Caroline.

"Loved the last piece you played," said Emma.

"I agree," came a deep unfamiliar male voice.

Every turned to look who had said it. It was the man who had arrived just before intermission.

"Who are you?" asked Marianne bluntly.

"Marianne!" cried Elinor.

The man chuckled, "No, no. It's okay. I really didn't belong in the conversation anyway, but I wanted to compliment you on your playing. It was like nothing I had ever heard before."

Marianne smiled and flicked back her hair, "Thanks." Any person with a compliment for her was clearly welcomed by Marianne with open arms.

"Sorry, but I didn't catch your name?" Elinor asked politely.

"My name is Christopher Brandon. I work at KGH." Christopher answered. He was hesitant to tell them that he was a doctor. He already felt decades older than them when in fact, he was only ten years older. He was sure that telling them he was a resident doctor would instantly age him an additional twenty years.

Elinor did the introductions for everyone else. Christopher smiled and greeted everyone politely. Interestingly, when he got to Will and Chuck, he stopped and his eyes widened in surprise.

Chuck apparently recognized Christopher too and said, "I think I've seen you somewhere."

"At the hospital," informed Will in a hollow sort of voice. "He was one of the interns."

Chuck snapped his fingers. "That's right! You're the one who took Georgie out for an ice cream when it got really bad."

Christopher nodded. "Yes, that was me. How is your sister?"

Will's face brightened, as it often did whenever he spoke of his sister. "Georgiana's a great kid. She's in the eighth grade and as shy as ever, but I'm hoping she'll get better as she gets older."

Christopher nodded in approval, "They will, and the next thing you know, you'll be wishing that she was the shy little girl once more."

"What brought you to the concert?" asked Marianne, who didn't want the attention diverted from her for too long.

Christopher's eyes settled on Marianne once more, and for a moment, thought that every muscle within his body must have contracted at the joy of having the opportunity to speak directly to the svelte pianist that moments before had him in a trance. As for her question, he was sure the truth would not be appropriate.

"It was raining hard outside, and I ducked in here to wait it out. I seemed to have picked a good place to wait out the rain."

Emma snorted, "Good luck waiting. It's been raining non-stop all day."

"I think he's ascertained that much," said Will cynically.

"Oh gosh, I've got to dash." Marianne cried when she checked her watch. She turned and ran off in the direction of the stage. Halfway down the aisle between the rows of chairs, she turned and called back to the group. "Watch for me in Moszkowski's Guitarre." She made a terrible face and disappeared behind the doors leading to the back of the stage.

Little did Marianne know that she didn't need to remind Christopher to watch for her. It would be many years before Elinor understood why he was the only person who could watch Marianne and appreciate her art like no other person on this humbling earth.

Chapter 13, Part 1

Sunlight streamed in from the window through the thin linen curtains of Emma's room, and she rolled over in her bed. It was Saturday and there was no way she was going to wake up early on a weekend. She had finished all of her work last night, before heading off to bed; this clearly justified some sleeping in. Snuggling deeper into her covers, Emma covered her eyes from the light and willed herself back to sleep. Just then, there came a knock upon her door and Emma was wrenched back to wakefulness.

Silently cursing the person calling at this time of morning, Emma pulled her robe about her and opened the door.

"Happy birthday Sleeping Beauty!" greeted the jovial voice of the morning visitor.

For a moment Emma thought she had fallen back asleep and was dreaming. She reached out and poked at the lapels of George Knightley's coat. "Knightley?"

Knightley smiled, "Didn't I tell you before you shouldn't call me that in public?"

"Oh, it really is you!" cried Emma and she threw her arms around Knightley's neck.

"Ew! Morning breath!" joked Knightley as he embraced Emma.

Emma pushed him back and glared at him. "You don't smell like a bed of roses in the morning either."

"Actually, if I ever smelled like a bed of roses, you'd think I had gone queer."

"You know," said Emma thoughtfully, "That would explain why you're going on twenty-six and have no girlfriend in sight. Is there something you're not telling me?"

Knightley shook his head in disbelief, "I can't believe I set up that trap and walked into it myself! So, where would you like me to take you for your birthday brunch?"

"You're taking me out to brunch!" Emma squealed in delight. "But I thought you couldn't come visit today. You told me you had too much work to do this weekend."

"I got it all done this week," said Knightley. "Besides, would I ever miss your birthday? I haven't missed a single one of your birthdays since you were born."

"That's probably true. Geez, doesn't it make you feel so old?"

Knightley frowned and pushed Emma back into her room. "You better hurry and get yourself ready before I change my mind and go back to Toronto. I'll wait for you out here."

Emma grinned playfully then dutifully shut the door. She looked over to see if Harriet was awake yet and found that she was actually not in her bed. Emma wondered where Harriet had gone, but it was a fleeting concern, for today was her birthday and Knightley was going to take her out for food that was not associated with the Queen's cafeterias!

George Knightley leaned against a wall and waited. He watched various girls emerge from their rooms looking tousle-haired and droopy-eyed as they shuffle into the bathroom. They didn't seem to take much notice of him, but he still felt rather uncomfortable. It was a dormitory full of girls and he was sure loitering outside Emma's door did not reflect very positively on his gallantry. Just as Knightley was about to reconsider and flee back to the protection of his car, Harriet appeared from around the corner of the hall.

"Good morning, George," she greeted.

Knightley looked up and saw, much to his astonishment, that Harriet was walking with a boy. For a moment he suspected that this boy was Phil Elton, but from Emma's descriptions of Phil, this boy did not look the part.

Harriet saw that George was looking with some curiosity at Robert and said, "George, this is Robert. He's a guy I met on the brother floor." She then turned to Robert. "Robert, this is George. He's one of Emma's oldest friends."

"I heard that it's Emma's birthday today," said Robert. "Did you come to Kingston to take her out?"

"Yes," answered George, and he quickly added, "But it's not a date."

Robert looked rather puzzled as to why Knightley had to make that distinction, but being a simple man who always took the comments of other's at face value, he didn't care to ask why.

Knightley then turned to Harriet. "I'm taking Emma out for some breakfast. Do you want to come?"

Harriet shook her head. "Thanks for asking, but I already had breakfast with Robert. I just came back to get something from my room. Robert and I are going out to a movie today."

"This early?" asked Knightley.

A pink tinge crept onto Harriet's face. "Well, we've got other stuff to do today too," she was about to turn away and unlock the door when she suddenly turned back and gestured for Knightley to lean down closer. He did, and she whispered in his ear. "Would you mind not telling Emma that I'm going out with Robert today?"

"No, I don't mind, but if you don't mind my asking, why don't you want Emma to know?" Knightley whispered back.

Harriet's eyes flickered over to Robert.

Knightley understood and straightened himself. "Could you tell Emma to hurry up when you get in there?"

Harriet nodded and disappeared into her room.

Knightley stood outside and after a moment of silence between him and Robert, they began to talk. At first they stayed on general topics such as the weather, Kingston, and Queen's. Gradually, as Knightley began to speak more with Robert, he began to find that they had much in common. They were discussing the law school application process when Harriet emerged from her room with a fresh jacket and her purse.

Harriet's heart leapt at the sight of Knightley and Robert conversing comfortably together. If Emma didn't approve of Robert, perhaps Knightley would be able to persuade her.

Robert looked up at Harriet's beaming face. "Why are you looking so happy?" he asked.

"No reason," said Harriet. She extended her hand. "Come on, I think it's time we got going."

Robert took Harriet's hand and with the look of a small child who had secretly eaten a cookie, turned to Knightley and said, "I'll see you around."

The look of smugness and glee on Robert's face tempted Knightley to laugh, but instead he delved into his pocket and produced a small card. He handed it to Robert and said, "This is my business card. Give me a call at my office number if you have any other questions about law school."

Robert took it and pocketed it. "Thanks, and uh..." he hesitated. "Tell Emma happy birthday for me."

Knightley nodded, "I will. Have fun you two."

Hand in hand they quickly quit the company of George Knightley. Knightley knew that they weren't in a hurry to quit his sight, but to leave before Emma saw them together. At this point, Knightley made up his mind to talk to Emma about her unfounded disapproval of Robert Martin.

The door opened and Emma came out with her toothbrush and her face cloth. She was simply dressed in a pair of deep blue jeans and a pink high-necked knitted sweater. Before Knightley could say a word, Emma said, "Just a few more minutes. I'm going to brush my teeth and wash my face. You don't mind waiting do you? I didn't think so." And she ducked into a bathroom without waiting for Knightley to respond. Emma kept her word however, and after five minutes she came out of the bathroom and disappeared into her room again.

Knightley waited with mounting trepidation. From what he could recall when Emma had whizzed by him just a moment ago, her hair had not yet been combed and she had not done her makeup. How much longer of this waiting he would have to do, he was not sure. Just as he was about to lose his temper and pound on Emma's door for her to hurry up, the door opened again and Emma closed the door to her room with a finality that heartened Knightley's spirits.

"What took you so long?" was the first question that came out of Knightley's mouth.

"I had to get dressed didn't I?" Emma pointed out as she locked the door.

"Yeah, but how long does it take to put on a pair of jeans and a sweater?" he leaned down and studied Emma's face. "And you can't tell me you've been putting on makeup, because I don't see any on your face."

"Well, I had to do my hair," explained Emma as she pulled on her coat.

Knightley reached over and helped her while saying, "You just tied it up! How long does that take?"

"Hey," said Emma as she glared up at George. "It's my birthday and I can take as much time as I want."

"Too true," admitted Knightley. "Are you ready for breakfast?"

Emma nodded and the two of them went out to Knightley's car without further disputes. They drove out to a pancake house at Emma's request. While waiting for their orders to arrive, Knightley filled Emma in on all the news back home. He told her about the publication of her father's article on Plato's Republic in the Philosophical Review, and of her father's seminar in York University that only twenty students attended. He also told her a little about her mother.

Although Emma's mother moved away to South Africa years ago, the Knightleys had always stayed in touch with Mrs. Woodhouse and Isabella through letters and the occasional phone call. Much to the dismay of Mrs. Woodhouse, Isabella was beginning to take after her father and finally declared her major as philosophy at the University of South Africa. Being a professor of microbiology at UNISA, Mrs. Woodhouse frowned upon aspirations to study the arts.

Then it was Emma's turn and she told him about Marianne's concert and the appearance of Christopher Brandon at intermission. She had just started on the recent developments between Harriet and Phil when their food arrived.

It was over mouthfuls of waffles, dripping with syrup, that George brought up the topic of Harriet.

"I had a little talk with Harriet outside of your room this morning. She's really come out of her shell," said Knightley. Seeing the look of pride on Emma's face, he added, "Judging from that looking on your face, you had much to do with this change I see in her. Tell me, what did you do to induce such a dramatic change? Spike her food? Performed a bit of witchery? Or do I dare to think that I've just grown more charming?"

Emma rolled her eyes, "Hardly. You forget that I am a role model for the young and old. I learned in psychology class that observational learning is very effective. Harriet could simply have learned to become more sociable just by watching and learning from yours truly."

"I need a pin. Someone really has to pop that ego of yours before it becomes so big you can't even get out of bed in the morning."

Emma laughed, "Oh, come on Knightley. You knew I was joking."

Knightley smiled, but faintly. "Sometimes, I'm not even sure about that."

Emma chose to ignore that and said, "So, why did you suddenly mention her?"

"Like I said, I talked to her outside your room. She was there with Robert. Oh, by the way, he wished you happy birthday."

"You mean Phil, right?"

"No, Robert. About half a head shorter than me, straight brown hair, kind of skinny."

"Yeah, that's him. What was he doing there?"

"Painting the halls. How should I know?" said an exasperated George Knightley. "Is there something about this guy that you don't like?"

Emma slowly shook her head. "No, not exactly. I just don't think Harriet should hang around a person like Robert."

"He seems like a good person. I talked to him for a bit when we were waiting for you and Harriet. He has very good plans for his life, and is very responsible. Did you know that he wants to go to law school after getting his undergraduate degree?"

"Oh please, anyone can say they want to do something, but the question is whether or not they will be able to."

"And you don't think Robert is capable of getting into law school?"

Emma looked uncomfortable, "Well, no. Anyway, that's not the point. Even if he wanted to go to law school, he still wouldn't be a good person for Harriet to know. She wants to be a doctor. I think it would be best if she associates with other life science majors-- like Phil."

"What kind of reasoning is that?" cried Knightley.

"I'm just saying that a relationship has a better chance at succeeding if they have some common interests. Phil is in life sciences, and so is Harriet. They have almost every class together. What would Harriet and Robert have to talk about?"

"You seem to think school is the only thing people have to talk about! Robert and Harriet could have much in common. Maybe they like the same music--"

"Harriet and Phil both asked me to make them a copy of my Aqua CD just a few days ago." Emma cut in.

"What about having similar personalities? What about actually liking each other?"

"That'll come in time."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" exclaimed Knightley as he clutched his head in frustration. "For someone who is supposed to be smart and good at school, you are being unbelievably illogical at this point."

Emma became defensive. "Hey, don't blame me. Harriet's told me several times that she likes Phil Elton, not Robert."

"I think it was more like you telling her who to like," accused Knightley.

"Why is it that men can never believe it when women tells them that they've changed their minds and like someone else instead? Are we supposed to just fall head over heels over the first man we meet and fixate on that person as the man we're supposed to spend the rest of our lives with?"

"That's just ridiculous."

"Exactly! Then why can't you understand Harriet doesn't like Robert anymore and likes Phil instead? I'm just being a Good Samaritan and prodding them in the right direction!"

"If you think puffing Harriet up, so that she'll think she is much better than the average hardworking student, then you are seriously mistaken. What does it matter if she is studying life sciences and he is studying sociology? You should be encouraging Harriet in her relationship with Robert. She is fortunate to have met up that kind of guy. Most people would not notice Harriet because she is too shy, and hangs around with people like you and your other friends. You people steal her spotlight. Robert is the one in a million who saw Harriet and appreciated her for who she is."

There was a short but tense silence between the two then, Emma asked, "Why are you so confident that Phil wouldn't like Harriet?"

"Because I've spent far more years in society than you have. I know about people like Phil; they are not as nice as you believe them to be. I listen when you tell me about your friends, and I believe that I know them just as well as you do. I'm not trying to say that you're not a good judge of character, but have you ever watched Robert and Harriet together with an objective eye? And have you actually seen Phil and Harriet look happy when they are alone with each other?"

"No," answered Emma sheepishly. "But have you? Don't think that just because you are older than I am, you know much more about the world than I do. I'm the one who sees them everyday, and I know that Harriet only likes Robert because he was the first guy she met when she got here. When she gets to know more people, she'll realize how wrong Robert is for her."

"You are too confident in your judgment. I keep hearing you say that Robert is wrong for Harriet, but you've never once told me specifics. What is it about Robert that makes you think Harriet will never get along with him?"

Emma played with the straw in her orange juice as she attempted to formulate a cogent response. To own the truth, she wasn't quite sure why Robert would not be a good person for Harriet to go out with. In Emma's mind, like always begot like. Therefore, Harriet, the life sciences major, would have the best chances at succeeding in a relationship if the other person was also a life sciences major.

Knightley seemed to have read her thoughts for he said, " I know you think the relationship between Robert and Harriet is doomed because they are pursuing different majors. If that were really the case Emma, then the world would be full of couples who hold the same bachelor's degree. Granted that there are people out there who find each other at school when studying the same subjects, but there are also people who experience very fulfilling relationships even though they work in different fields and hold different degrees."

Emma sighed and set down her utensils. "I see that neither of us is going to budge in our opinions, but I would just like you to know that I was right about Jane and Chuck."

"You were right? Oh please, that was just a lucky guess!" scoffed Knightley.

"Be that as it may, but I think I know more about my friends than do you. In fact, I'm so confident that I'm reserving the right to gloat when the outcome turns out in my favour."

Knightley took in a deep breath and shook his head, but not in his usual humouring manner. He pointed to her plate, "Are you finished? I need to head back to Toronto this afternoon."

Emma looked shocked. "Why? It's my birthday! I thought you were going to spend the day with me."

"No, I've got to head back. There are some things I need to get done before Monday," was Knightley's short response.

Emma knew there was something wrong. "But you told me that you got all your work done before heading down to see me. Are you angry?"

"No," answered Knightley, but his eyes told a different answer. He took out his wallet and paid for their meal, then he stood up and waited for Emma to rise with him.

They had very little conversation as they drove back to Queen's campus. The jests and sounds of laughter that had occupied them on their way to the pancake house were absent on the returning trip. All too soon, they reached McNeill House and Emma got out of the car.

"Bye," she said in a rather subdued voice.

Knightley nodded, and said, without looking at her, "Goodbye Emma. Have a happy birthday."

Chapter 13, Part 2

Knightley took in a deep breath and shook his head, but not in his usual humouring manner. He pointed to her plate, "Are you finished? I need to head back to Toronto this afternoon."

Emma looked shocked. "Why? It's my birthday! I thought you were going to spend the day with me."

"No, I've got to head back. There are some things I need to get done before Monday," was Knightley's short response.

Emma knew there was something wrong. "But you told me that you got all your work done before heading down to see me. Are you angry?"

"No," answered Knightley, but his eyes told a different answer. He took out his wallet and paid for their meal, then he stood up and waited for Emma to rise with him.

They had very little conversation as they drove back to Queen's campus. The jests and sounds of laughter that had occupied them on their way to the pancake house were absent on the returning trip. All too soon, they reached McNeill House and Emma got out of the car.

"Bye," she said in a rather subdued voice.

Knightley nodded, and said, without looking at her, "Goodbye Emma. Have a happy birthday."

With very confused feelings, Emma went back to her room and shut the door. Normally, she would have left her door open so passing floor mates could drop in on her, but in her present state, she wasn't sure if she could act like her usual cheery self. All she wanted to do at that moment was sit and fume about Knightley. Emma was almost certain that if only Knightley had stayed around so she could introduce Phil Elton to him, then he would change his mind about Phil's appropriateness for Harriet. How could he be so sure he was right about Harriet and she was wrong? He had only talked with Robert and Harriet for a few minutes; how could he be so confident in his prediction? Surely, a seniority of seven years did not make that much of a difference? Just as Emma was about to settle into some serious moping, Harriet burst into the room with a wide grin on her glowing face.

"You will never guess what happened this morning!"

Emma stared blankly at Harriet.

"I was walking by Victoria Hall with Robert..." Emma frowned and Harriet quickly continued, "When we heard some music coming from the second floor. You will never guess what it was and who was playing it!"

"What and who?"

"It was the Aqua CD you burned for Phil!!! He was blasting it from his ghetto blaster in his room! It was so loud that you could hear it from Ban Righ!"

Now Emma became excited. "You're kidding right? Phil Elton playing the Aqua CD! Oh Harriet! You must know what this means right? It's a sign! Look at the effort Phil is putting into making you like him!"

Harriet didn't quite follow, and Emma had to explain.

"Phil is blasting that CD right now because he wanted you to know that you two have the same taste in music. You know how in medieval times the men would serenade the women? Well, that's what Phil is doing to you right now!"

"Are you sure?" asked Harriet.

"Of course I'm sure!" Emma replied. A part of her felt guilty about encouraging Harriet, contrary to the recommendations of Knightley.

"Well, what am I supposed to do now?"

"Go back out there of course and let Phil know you appreciate this gesture!"

"But-"

"But what?"

"Phil is waiting outside right now. He asked me if you were back yet. I told him I didn't know and invited him to come up and wait, but he said he would rather wait outside." Harriet reached into her pocket and produced a CD. She handed this to Emma and said, "Phil told me to give this to you if you were back and tell you to go down and see him."

Emma read the label. It looked like a CD that someone else had burned, and was simply called: Love Songs. Emma wondered at the title and turned the CD over to look at the list of songs. It was a collection of the works of current pop bands, and each song seemed to revolve around a desire for love.

"Phil said it was your birthday present and he wanted me to leave it on your bed so you could see it when you got home," explained Harriet, hoping she could clear the confusion on Emma's face.

Emma was looking perplexed for two reasons. Firstly, she was beginning to suspect that George Knightley's warnings about Phil Elton were beginning to have some veritable value. After all, Knightley did warn her that Phil would not be interested in Harriet, and that she, and all of her friends, stole Harriet's part in the spotlight. Secondly, she couldn't believe that Phil thought she would like the ensemble of songs he had put together for her. Emma was a fan of jazz and blues, not modern pop! She thought she made that very clear to him. And what was with the pervading theme of love?

A thought suddenly occurred to her, "Of course!"

"What?" asked Harriet.

Emma held out the CD to Harriet and said, "This isn't meant for me at all! Phil should know that I don't like modern pop. He had this CD specially made just for you! Look, all the bands that you like are on this CD, and every song involves the concept of love."

Harriet blushed and took the CD. "Really? I didn't notice." She stopped and read a few of the titles and blushed even deeper. "But why would he give this CD to you for your birthday if it was meant for me?"

"He clearly meant to throw you off by it. Think Harriet! It's a red herring. He didn't want to pressure you too much, just in case you got scared and backed away." Emma explained. "Is he still downstairs?"

"I guess so," said Harriet, who didn't look so happy anymore. She was looking in the direction of Leonard Hall, Robert's dormitory. What was she going to tell Robert now? Or would it be easier if she had just told Emma the truth?

Emma took her jacket from behind the door and said, "I'm going down there to invite him to come up. I hope that's okay with you."

Harriet gave a weak smile. "Of course it is. I would like to see him."

Completely oblivious to the look on Harriet's face, Emma bounded down the stairs and bumped into Phil who had been hovering at the doors of McNeill House for quite a while now.

"Hey there birthday girl!" greeted Phil as he pulled Emma into an embrace.

Emma pushed back, and said, "Thanks. I heard from Harriet that you've been waiting out here for a while.

"It wasn't that long," said Phil. "Time passes quickly whenever I'm waiting for you."

Emma gave Phil a quizzical look. Was he always like this? She wondered. Shaking off that feeling Emma asked, "Do you want to come up?"

"Is Harriet still upstairs?"

"Yes, why?"

"Why don't we go for a walk instead?" suggest Phil, and without waiting for Emma to answer, he put his arm around her waist and steered her onto Leonard Field and towards the lake.

They meandered for a while on the path surrounding the perimeter of Lake Ontario. Several times, Emma tried to direct their ambles back toward her residence, but every time she had tried, Phil had only tightened his arm around her and pulled her back towards the path. He finally released his grip around her when they reached a gazebo at the edge of the lake. Taking her hand, Phil led her to a bench and sat her down.

Emma swallowed nervously. Suddenly, she felt as if she was in the part of the movie where the guy is about to propose marriage to a girl. Surely, Phil Elton was not going to do something as rash as that! She felt that she had made it very clear that Phil was not her type, and had been encouraging him to take Harriet out as a girlfriend. Knightley's premonitions began to echo in her conscience again.

"You look troubled," said Phil reading the expression of deep frustration on Emma's face.

"Oh it's nothing," dismissed Emma. She looked down at her watch and without really reading the time, said, "I think it's time that we head back. We've been out for ages already. Harriet will be wondering where we are."

Phil leaned forward and took her hand. Emma tried to recoil, but he grasped it even tighter. "Forget about Harriet. I need to ask you something Emma, and I think you know what it is already."

For a fleeting moment, Emma envisioned herself dealing Phil a swift kick where it counted before sprinting back to McNeill House and barricading herself in her room for fear of another Elton-Invasion.

The thought brought a small smile to Emma's lips and Phil interpreted it as a sign of encouragement, and continued. He began by relating to her how he gradually became enamoured with her talents, charms, and of course, stunning looks. Then he progressed to how she had encouraged him and how he had done everything within his capabilities to make her happy. Finally, he spoke of how he decided that on her birthday he would make his love his present to her. It was a rather loquacious confession and when he had concluded his avowal, Emma reacted in a manner that was completely unexpected by him.

She doubled over and laughed.

"What planet have you been on?" Emma gasped when she finally came up for some air.

"Excuse me?" asked Phil, who still hadn't recovered from Emma's callousness.

Emma recalled her lessons on propriety and said in a softer tone, "Phil, I'm really sorry, but this is a joke right?"

"No," answered Phil. "How could you think that I'm joking? Didn't you hear all that I've said?" He began to repeat his declaration of adoration, but Emma stopped him before he got passed "I've loved you since..."

"There must have been a mistake! I thought you liked Harriet. She told me just a few moments ago that you were playing the same CD that I burned for Harriet. Wasn't it a gesture to show Harriet that you two have common interests?"

Phil shook his head. "I was blasting that song out the window because I was hoping you would hear it and see how much I am enjoying something you made for me. It had nothing to do with Harriet. Besides, why would I like a person like Harriet?"

Emma narrowed her eyes, "And why would you NOT like a person like Harriet? She is perfectly nice and fun to be with."

"I suppose," said Phil, with a touch of exasperation in his voice, "But really Emma, you should know that Harriet was never my type. I could never love Harriet like the way I love you, and I would be lying to you if I told you that I liked her. I am nice to Harriet because you are her friend and wanted us to be friends, nothing more. You, of all people, should know that I have better taste than to choose Harriet over you. You and I are more alike."

It was impossible to describe the astonishment that Emma felt as she listened to Phil Elton's insensitive confessions. How could her judgment have been so erroneous? This just could not be the same Phil Elton who had patiently helped Harriet with her chemistry assignments. However, upon further reminiscence, Emma recalled that Phil had paid more attention to her than Harriet. How could she not have noticed it before? All the pieces seem to be falling into place: the constant flattery, the CD, the birthday present, and now this declaration. Knightley was right!

With her mind reeling with the realization of her blunder, Emma neglected to make a response to what Phil had said. Interpreting Emma's silence as further encouragement, Phil leaned closer and attempted to kiss her.

"Get away from me!" Emma yelled in disgust, pushing Phil Elton so hard he was nearly tipped off his seat; Emma noticed, but she didn't care. The cruel words that Phil had used when he spoke of Harriet reverberated in her head, and Emma saw red. Throwing caution to the wind, she made her reply.

"It would be a mark of good taste if you had liked Harriet!" Emma exclaimed. "You seem to have forgotten that Harriet is one of my best friends. She is not some charity case that needs your friendship. She has plenty of friends, and frankly Phil, I don't think you ought to consider yourself her friend. I'm sorry if I've somehow led you on. I don't know what gave you the impression that I was interested in you, but rest assured, I did not and do not see you as anything more than a friend."

Phil was livid. He had been so confident that Emma would feel the same way about him, and now to have been told that he was mistaken was humiliating. He no longer cared about friendship. If Emma could never love him then he didn't want her as his friend. He stood up and there was a moment of very pregnant silence before he said, "It's your loss" and quickly stalked away.

Emma sat quite still in the gazebo for a few more minutes before walking back to residence. The day had barely begun and already Emma felt that it was, by far, the most bizarre day of her life. She could not work up the courage to walk into McNeill House when she arrived back. What was she going to say to Harriet? She was sure Harriet would be heart broken when she heard that Phil Elton never liked her, and admired Emma instead. Nervously, she paced the area around the entrance to her residence, hoping some intervention would come from above and send her back in time to right her wrongs.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder and Emma turned and saw Ann Taylor, her floor senior.

"Waiting for someone?" asked Ann.

Emma shook her head.

"Is there something wrong between you and Harriet?" tried Ann.

Emma started to shake her head, but stopped and with an imploring look said, "There is nothing wrong between Harriet and me... yet. It's just that I've got to go upstairs and tell her something that is going to make Harriet hate me."

Ann looked concerned, "What happened?"

Emma retold the story between her, Phil, and Harriet, and concluded with Phil's confession this morning.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Emma practically wailed. "Harriet thinks I'm her best friend and when she finds out that I've been giving her lousy advice, she'll hate me! She'll think that I've been toying with her, and tricking her into liking Phil when he actually liked me. Friends aren't supposed to do that to each other."

Ann smiled in a humouring way. "No Emma, you're wrong. Being a best friend for someone doesn't mean that you have to be perfect. Friends count on each other for advice, and they don't expect them to be right all the time. Harriet won't hate you because you told her to like someone who liked you instead. It was an honest mistake you made."

"I suppose you're right," said Emma. She opened the door to McNeill House, but her resolution quailed, and she grabbed Ann's arm and said beseechingly, "Will you do it for me? Please? You're the floor senior, just go up and tell Harriet that Emma's been stupid and deserves to be tarred and feathered and humiliated in public."

Ann laughed, "Nonsense. It was just a small mistake, not worthy of public disgrace at all. If you want, I'll come with you, but I won't be saying a single thing until you've told Harriet what happened."

Thus, with Ann at her side, Emma went back to her room and told Harriet what had happened between Phil and her just a few moments ago. She tactfully left out some of the more scathing things that Phil said, and added a few euphemisms of her own to dampen Phil's zealous words during the real situation. Surprisingly, Harriet took the information rather well. Not a single tear was shed, and she didn't blame Emma in the least. If Emma didn't know any better she would have thought that Harriet never really liked Phil at all.

Like most gossip involving the humiliation of the male sex and complicated misunderstandings, the rejection of Phil Elton by Emma Woodhouse became well understood and thoroughly discussed by our girls of McNeill House; it was unanimously agreed upon by the girls that Phil had been a superficial chauvinistic pig. In utter disgrace, Phil Elton severed his connections with the McNeill 4 girls. He now ate in a different cafeteria and sat with a new group of acquaintances during classes. Perhaps it was Emma's prejudice, but she felt that he seemed to be surrounded by girls quite often now. Phil seriously underestimated Emma's intelligence if he thought that he would be able to make her jealous, simply by surrounding himself with girls.

Continued in Next Section