Chapter One

Posted on Monday, 13 June 2005

Katherine Bennet Romsen stood, shielding her eyes with a hand, searching for her eldest daughter across the wide expanse of lawn. She spotted the girl sitting a ways off, with angelic face raised to a tree, apparently listening intently to some nature sound. She called, "Hannah, would you be so kind and fetch Daniel's ball from the bushes over there?" Her request was not heard on first attempt, but Hannah turned away from her fascination on second entreaty. With a pretty little flounce, Hannah spun on her heels and ran to do as her mother bid. She reached the said bush, got down on hands and knees, careful not to smudge dirt on her pinafore, and retrieved the lost ball.

As she straightened, a splash of lavender petals brushed her face. She sniffed in the deep aroma of lilacs. Before returning to Mother's side, Hannah picked off a few sprigs of the purple clusters. With them in hand and the ball in the other she ran across the lawn. Kitty, as Katherine was often called, had just put down one-year-old Leah, and the little imp took the opportunity to escape across the grass. The young mother, shaking her head, took off after her and finally caught the mischievous child by the hand.

"You little monster, Leah! You'll be the death of your poor Mama yet." Hannah knew her mother was feigning frustration by the light tone she used in addressing the babe. Kitty smiled and nestled her head against the baby's, and tickled Leah's neck and causing both mother and child to giggle with delight.

Daniel, a strapping little lad of three, ran to Hannah's side with open hands, "Anny, ball? My ball?"

"Oh, yes. Here, Daniel." Hannah dropped the ball into his pudgy hands and he immediately resumed throwing it across the lawn with vigor.

"Why do I even bother? He'll just throw it under a bush again." Hannah thought with a maternal shake of her dainty head. She was just six years of age, but wise beyond her years. As eldest of her two siblings, responsibility made her so.

Hannah skipped to her mother to bring forth the exquisite gift she found. "Mother, look at what I have found." Girlish thrill laced her voice as she held the little bouquet up for Kitty to see.

"Just a second, darling..."

Leah had grabbed her mother's brooch and was determinedly trying to claim it as her own valuable. Prying the youngster's fingers loose from the pin, Kitty set her down and stood on the edge of the tyke's dress, her foot serving as a temporary confining force. "There little girl, there'll be no escaping from me!" Straightening her brooch she gave her attention back to Hannah. "What is it you want, dearest?"

Young Hannah lifted up the flowers for her mother to view. "Are they not pretty, Mother?"

"Yes, they certainly are. And their scent is even prettier, I think." Kitty replied, burying her nose deep in their softness.

"Might we have Mrs. Higgins put some in my chambers? I would like to have them there where I can smell them as I go to sleep tonight." Hannah asked hopefully, thinking how pretty they would look against her new peach-colored curtains.

Laughing, Kitty replied, "I do not see why not? A good idea, Hannah, very good. Perhaps we could use some in my chambers as well. Just what our lonely house needs."

A shout from behind made them both turn around in alarm. Daniel was running madly down the hill to the road below. "Daniel, stop!" Hannah yelled. He did not stop, but kept running, his plump legs gaining speed as he flew down the hillside. She began to run after him, knowing that if he reached the road he would be in trouble with Mother and perhaps receive a spanking for his disobedience, but she stopped short at the sight of a figure on horseback approaching. Daniel had recognized the man's tall form sooner than either she or her mother had. Galloping nearer, was none other then their father, Harold Romsen, looked splendid as he sat astride his strong chestnut horse, Sahara. Hannah squealed with delight and ran to catch up with her brother.

He reached them in a short while and stepped down off Sahara, quickly gathering them both in his strong arms.

"Papa, I am so happy you are back." she cried against his shoulder, clinging to his neck.

"I cannot tell you how happy I am to be home. Daniel, you scalawag, I hope you've been a good boy while I have been away?"

"Yes, Papa." came the proud reply. Harold tousled his dark hair with affection.

"And Hannah, my beautiful, you've grown at least seven inches since I left."

Hannah's mouth dropped down in a moment of disbelief and then saw the teasing grin that played upon her father's lips. "Papa, you are jesting with me."

"Yes, I am. Now, lovely dears, where is your mother? I am dying to see her."

She came over the small ridge that moment, holding Leah's hand firmly in her own. Hannah heard the unmistakable quick intake of breath from her father as he looked at Kitty standing on the hill, and no wonder, her mother's beauty was magnified by the shaft of sunshine that lighted upon her breaking through the overcast clouds. Setting his children down with a flourish, Harold strode quickly to his wife, taking her in a loving embrace. Hannah took Leah's hand from her mother's and held her still while they said their greetings after such a long separation.

"I've missed you so, Harold. Please never leave like that again." Kitty spoke with a voice split between joy and pain, the yearning she had experienced over the past month finally subsiding. It had been unbearable for all of them to endure that month, with father gone on business.

He held Kitty tighter and said that his trips would no longer take him for such duration of time. It was several moments before they pulled apart and Harold gathered little Leah into his arms. "She has been a good baby, I trust?"

Snickering slightly, Kitty said, "No, she has been as willful as Lizzy lately. I just know she has inherited her aunt's spirit for life and consistently uses it to amuse us."

"I do not know," Harold said, running his fingers through the baby's soft curls, "but that it could be part of Caleb too." He referred to his younger brother, former suitor of his wife, and now happily married to Kitty's dearest girlhood friend.

"I suppose there was no avoiding it if it comes from both sides of the family." She replied, eyes glowing as she grabbing her husband's arm in pleasant possession.

"How was your trip, Papa?" Hannah inquired as they started towards the house.

"It was painfully long drudgery without all of you, but successful."

Her mother's eyes brightened even more, "Harold, it is all settled then?"

"Yes, they have offered to buy any horses we breed for the next five years. Greenwoods is a well-known riding school throughout England and they only accept the best of what a breeder has to offer. I suppose that means we have the very best, Mrs. Romsen." He kissed her tenderly on the head as their small family strolled on.

Hannah ran back a few feet from her family to pick up the flowers her mother had dropped when Papa came up. The lilacs were unharmed and she lifted them to her face once again. Everything seemed perfect in her young six-year-old world, Papa was home and everyone was happy. Clouds swept themselves into exquisite shapes above, birds whistled, exchanging gleeful calls to one another.

Five Years Later...

"Daniel Romsen, you are a disgrace to the Romsen name! Just look at you, what a dreadful mess! Mama will not be pleased with your appearance. And have we not always told you not pick fights, especially with complete strangers. What if someone from the town should come down the road and see you in such a state!" Hannah stomped her foot with passion, trying to express her great exasperation. Her boot sunk into the soft mud several inches, therefore making her look more ridiculous than enraged.

Sharp, clear laughter rang out from Daniel and one of the mud-covered figures that sat on the ground as she struggled to pull her foot loose from the sucking grip. She directed her attention away from the cackling hyenas as she tried to force it free. Her efforts were in vain; her booted foot would not be released. Another taller boy, looking to be a few years her minor despite his tall form, stifled his chuckles behind a hand as he moved to assist her. He knelt down on hands and knees, his clothes having been already soiled with the muck, and pulled her foot up and out with some careful effort. Hannah, while grateful to be free, was not about to let her younger brother off duty in regards to his misconduct.

"Daniel..." she began before he interrupted her lecture.

"Ah, Hannah, we weren't in a set-to. We was only having a jolly wrestle and happened to land in the mud. And these aren't strangers, why they are great fellows!" Her younger brother blurted as he wiped the filth from his cheek.

Hannah, nearly at her wit's end, looked on him with disdain. "Don't say 'we was' and you know you were to stay near the house, and how do you know these boys are not plain stable hands or simple country urchins?"

The taller boy who had assisted her swept off his soiled cap. "Please, Miss, as crude as we appear we are nothing of that sort."

In a saucy voice she replied, "Indeed, sir? Then, pray, what or who might you be?"

"Ever seen the grand house down the road from yours?"

"Breckenridge?"

"Yes, that is our new home. Our family has recently occupied the house for the summer. We will be your neighbors. I'm Alton Hendershaw." He struck out a hand in greeting, but hastily pulled it back after realizing how filthy it was.

Her eyes grew wide with the statement. "You are one of the Hendershaws? I had heard my father speak of your coming to our neighborhood. Please forgive my rash judgment. You must admit that thick covering is deceiving attire."

"You are right. Come David, we should go home and clean up. Mama will bring all her scolding and threatening upon us, but we might as well face up to the challenge. Farewell, Daniel. Pleased to have made your acquaintance and I am most sorry for any grief we have caused you, Miss Hannah." With that he and his brother ran across the field and crossed the log, over the creek that separated their lands.

Hannah grabbed a corner of Daniel's tunic, the only unsoiled part of him, and dragged him across the field, going the opposite direction. "How troublesome boys were at eight years of age." were her thoughts as pulled him along.

"A fine way to meet our new neighbors, Daniel, wallowing in the mud! Why must you be so rag-mannered?"

"Hanny, you are altogether too peremptory. When will you learn that we boys like to do things like get dirty and roll around? It cannot be terribly bad for us to do it, for it always comes off somehow. Bruises heal and mud washes off with a little water."

Hannah decided to ignore his impertinence and proceeded towards the house.

"Oh, Daniel, how could you do this to your new outfit? Well, I shall have to order a special solution for Adriana and Mrs. Harper to clean it with." Kitty spoke with light concern as she assisted her son in removing his muddied garb.

"Mama, do not scold him too harshly. I really think I did a royal job of it at the scene of the crime." Hannah's voice held a touch of guilt remembering her harshness at the moment of discovery. Never had she imagined to find her brother in such an indecorous situation and including their new neighbors in his caper. Her cheeks crimsoned slightly at the memory.

"She surely did. No wonder those Hendershaw boy left in a jiffy. She was in a purely frightening mood."

"You were introduced to the Hendershaw boys?"

"They were wrestling in the mud with Daniel, all covered in the mess." Hannah offered.

Daniel protested faithfully. "No, only David and I were wrestling. Alton would have no part in the rough play, until we got in the mud and then he stepped in break us up and he got muddied in the process."

"Well, I really cannot condone this behavior, but it must have been entertaining for you to do something that is in a boy's nature for once, Daniel?" His mother winked shamefully at him, in Hannah's opinion, and he brightened, grateful for his mother's excellent understanding.

Hannah sighed. Mother was just feeding the flame of his disobedience and would have to deal with further consequences. But of course, Mother was quite capable of that. Many times when Daniel had gone too far with his behavior she would give a swift paddle and he would do the ill deed no more. In Hannah's eyes, her mother was lovely, charming, and capable of anything. Even with several young children under foot, she attended to their needs with smart judgment and untiring love.

Chapter Two

Posted on Monday, 13 June 2005

The wind blew inundating rain against Hannah's windowpanes. The storm was a miserable one and had raged mercilessly for two hours. Hannah sat curled up in her bed, feet and knees tucked deep in her covers, with a book in hand. The rain beat with such force against the great house that she could not concentrate on the puzzling plot of the story. She set the book down gently on her night stand and looked to the window as the lightening lit up the sky and surroundings with powerful sporadic rays.

Such nights as these brought an apprehensive hush over the household, as if the occupants awaited a dreadful happening. The dark of the night, the raging fingers of wind that tore at the house, the incessant rippling of rain over and over against the roof. With all this, Hannah almost wished she had the comfort of a companion in her room. As the shadows moved along the walls, she moved quickly to the shelve of books against the other wall.

Pulling out a book of children's fairytales that was well worn by years of being read, she took it back to her bed and opened it to her favorite tale. She was well over the age for such juvenile stories, but they brought Hannah some comfort as she remembered back. As if reliving it again, she saw her father, a young and impressionable figure, holding her against his chest reading the tales that stir a girl's heart.

Hannah never allowed that she partook in such childish fancies, but she still, at age seventeen, imagined herself to be a fair distressed princess in the tower, with her prince charming riding through obstacles to claim her from trouble. This was just what type of girl Hannah Romsen was. She was such a rare sort of girl that many dull people knew not what to think of her.

She was neither extremely reserved nor rapturously giddy. She held herself with grace, dignity and cordiality. Her manners were impeccable and refined and were such that she would have been fit to meet with the queen herself. Hannah had a good backing of moral views, with convictions which could be matched with few other ladies of her time. These reasons, accompanied with her soft natural beauty, attracted men from far and near to her side.

Enamored young beaus came calling as soon as she was marriageable age. Hannah had even received her first proposal that very year.. She calmly and respectfully declined the man's proposal. Hannah felt nothing for him and saw no point of marrying except for the deepest love and admiration. Neither did she feel prepared to take on the task of running her own household. She knew full well what it would take of her time and energy. Had not her own mother been counseling her for years on every particular of a married lady's daily performance? No, she was content for now to be a single maiden, free to be of assistance to her own ties of blood.

The storm cleared by morning, leaving a fresh new world behind to awaken the day. Hannah dressed and walked to her younger sister's rooms to see if Leah might be prevailed upon to accompany her on a walk after breakfast. Opening the doors quietly, Hannah slipped into the room. Leah lay curled up in the position of a young infant, looking as if about to be swallowed up by her large bed and coverings. Her light blond hair slipped completely loose of its unraveled braid and spilled out in luscious waves upon her pillow. She was beautiful in sleep, appearing as a goddess of some unknown world. Hannah did not wake her, but simply watched as the child breathed in deep slumber.

Her only sister had been a joy to her through the years. The brightest, liveliest Romsen child had come into the world with much force the night she was born. Hannah remembered how many times she had heard her father say that Leah was birthed quicker than any of their children, leaving her parents and the midwife in complete surprise.

Everything was that way with Leah. She was rash in judgment, quick in temper; along with the hasty anger was a quick retreat back to forgiveness and bliss though. She seemed to always be laughing. In fact, as Hannah watched her now, she caught a faint smile creeping upon Leah's lips. An amused snort came from the supposed sleeping child, startling Hannah from her thoughts. One eye peeping open showed that Leah was not asleep but merely playing the part, Hannah put on an equally pretend look of grievance and said aloud, "My, Daniel was right; she does look like Old Mrs. Gretner when she sleeps."

This insulting comment, given in reference to the oldest lady in the community who slept during all of Rev. Edmonds' sermons, had to be corrected. Leah sat straight up in bed and said in a highly offended voice, "I do not look like that old hag! Oh, just wait until I get my hands around Dan's neck. He will soon see how awful I can look!"

Hannah softened her sister's anger in laughter and told her it was a joke, meant to replay itself on her for feigning slumber. Leah calmed as quickly as a candle could be blown out and tossed a pillow in Hannah's direction, a teasing gesture. It fell short of hitting Hannah and she scooped it up, and propped it beneath her elbow to rest on the bed.

"I came in to ask if you'd care to go on a jaunt down to the lake with me. 'Tis beautiful outside after last night's storm. Oh, but I did not think of the mud that will mar the road until now."

Leah smiled, with a wave of her hand, "Who cares about mud. I'll never allow plain old dirt to stop me from enjoying a brilliant day."

"Then it is all settled. Maybe we can influence Mama and the boys to take a picnic with us instead."

"Yes ... or we could skip on over to the Hendershaws and ask Alton, David, Prissy and Livvy to join us. Wouldn't that be a cheerful party?"

Hannah nodded though she knew the Hendershaws would more likely decline the invitation. They were preparing to leave for a three-month holiday in Bath. Hannah left Mrs. Ledstrom to dress her younger sister and descended downstairs to inquire after breakfast.

As Hannah waited for the rest of the family to join her for the early meal, she gazed out the east window at the almost fully risen sun. Calming, peaceful, splendid ... all were words to describe the scene before her eyes. The land that her father owned was very beautiful. Hannah had lived on its rich grounds all of her life. She couldn't remember a day, in all her nearly eighteen years, when she had viewed the grounds without pleasure. It was truly a land 'flowing with milk and honey' in her perspective and she loved it will all her heart.

As children, she, along with the other Romsen and Hendershaw children, found many amusements in the layout of the land. There were haunting, dark forests for pleasurable bandit hideouts and golden rippling fields to run through. The land was magnified in its charm by the many little streams and brooks that ran through and across its borders. This was the cause for its name. Sharingbrooks Glade just seemed the perfect title for the enchanting place.

But of course, she could not sit here dreaming all day long. Mrs. Harper, who was the cook and overseer of laundering, came in, setting the crocks and bowls of food on the table. Hannah saw the lady struggle with a large pitcher of milk in one hand and a platter of steamy sausages in the other. Hannah moved briskly to aid her. "Here, Mrs. Harper, allow me to help."

The stout woman sighed in profound relief. "Thank you, miss. I was not sure 'ow I'd handle that one. Seems like there be no more room in me arms to carry all the food your younger brothers require. They be getting so large, and their appetites too at that."

A laugh escaped Hannah's lips. "Yes, I fear that they shall surely eat our mother and father out of money. If they do not take smaller portions with their meals, I fear they will be so large that their beds will cease to hold them and then what would they do?"

"I suppose sleep in the barn and stables with your father's fine steeds." grunted Mrs. Harper as she passed back into the kitchen.

"Good morning, my beautiful." Harold Romsen, greeted with a fond look at his daughter's cheery face. He had always greeted her with the name 'my beautiful', showing his love for her in tender terms. She was to be envied; a kinder, loving father was not to be found in Frome, nor in all of England, as was Hannah's opinion.

"Good morning, Father." She returned, rewarding him with one of her most endearing smiles. She walked over to give him a kiss on the cheek and then sat next to him at the table.

Her mother did not accompany him and slight unease arose in her. "Where is Mother this morning? I hope she is not unwell."

"Oh, not at all, she is simply taking longer to get dressed. She is going to call upon Widow Hemner today. She has spent the last half-hour alone trying to decide upon a gown." Harold, though a middle-aged father now, smiled with boyish proclivity.

A few moments of silence passed before the room became bombarded with noisy boys. Nine and seven-year-old, Randall and Thomas, came in with voices so full of volume and disturbance that they received a stern reprimand from their father. They immediately quieted and sat at their places with a little more civility. Leah and Daniel arrived next, speaking in quiet tones to one another. The two had always been companions in every particular.

Daniel, at fifteen years, was tall and handsome with laughing brown eyes and wavy near-black hair. He was devoted to his younger sister and never hurt her feelings if he could help it, unusual for a boy his age. He spoiled her endlessly, defended her against upsetting situations, and wiped away her tears when she was hurt. Leah's loyalty to him was without difference. She looked up to him and asked him for advice in everything. They were quite a pair, she with her fair looks and he with his dark. Leah was tall for her age. People who were not well acquainted with them confused the brother and sister to be a couple of very young lovers because of their closeness.

The entire room quieted soon after, which was very rare for the large family. Kitty entered the room with fresh, graceful step. Admiration shone in Harold's eyes for his still lovely wife. The past twenty years had altered her beauty little, each year seeming as if it had not even passed. Of course he was subjected to what is called 'blind love' and never noticed the soft wrinkles forming at the corners of her eyes and the slight sprinkling of grey in her dark chestnut hair.

She sat at his right and smiled at her children, all waiting patiently for grace to be said. Harold offered up a prayer for the food and concluded with a... "And I am deeply grateful for such a lovely wife." Hannah opened her eyes a bit to see her mother quietly rebuke him, but she did not overlook the tiny smile of pleasure that Kitty did not manage to cover.

Chapter Three

Posted on Monday, 13 June 2005

The first autumn leaves, dropped from high branches, rustled beneath the fallings of their feet and sounds of the children's laughter created a tranquil atmosphere as Hannah, Leah and the Hendershaw offspring walked down Terry Lane in the glorious sunshine. Walking beside her old chum, Alton, and holding little Priscilla Hendershaw's hand, Hannah gazed at the picturesque scene laid out in front of her. Off the left side of the road, her father's rich land could be seen, forests and brooks in full view, and to the right, meadows of wildflowers splayed out in delightful splotches of gold, red, and deep purple.

Autumn had always been Hannah's favorite season of the year. The mild chill in the air invigorated her senses as she breathed deep of its crispness. The world was indeed a picture of calming beauty that was pleasurable to those wise enough to participate in recreation. Hannah enjoyed walks of solitude in the early mornings, but today seemed as if it should be shared with those dear to her.

The party was moving quickly towards the small lake that was not far from Sharingbrooks Glade and Breckenridge. After walking on for fifteen minutes or so, they found themselves crossing over a hill. Just over the ridge Hannah could view the quaint little lake's waters, a shimmering form, standing out against the countryside's wild fields. Leah and the younger Hendershaw children began to run towards their destination so quickly that Alton laughed at their eagerness. Little Priscilla, always the cautious one, looked to her older brother for permission before joining them in their sprint. Alton nodded and Prissy smiled at Hannah before removing her hand and rushing down the road, dark auburn hair streaming behind her, dress rippling out in the wind.

"To be a child again, Hannah?" Alton's voice rumbled into her thoughts.

"Those are my thoughts exactly at the moment. Watch them run so freely, spirited with the pure pleasure of living. I almost envy them their careless state of mind, Al. There was once a time when I would have run with them without giving a thought. Why do we have to grow older each day, friend? It is not thrilling any more to envision myself grown up." Her thoughts continued on to remember the dreams she and Sarah had promised to act upon when they were grown.

He laughed quietly, soothing Hannah's dampened soul with the balm of understanding. "I know. Growing up is a hard reality to face once you've actually begun. At first, it is a fun, exciting prospect and you long for it with passion. But as soon as you've reached a certain part of the aging, it no longer holds the intriguing mystery for you."

He shook his head as if to shake off low-spirited mood that had set upon them. "Look at us, standing, talking as if we were eighty years old and dying tomorrow. Really girl, you and I should not dwell on such gloom. There is a bright happy day awaiting us. Let's allow it to sparkle upon one of our days of youthhood." He startled her by grabbing her hand and quickened her pace until they were almost running alongside the children.

Reaching the grassy patch of earth that ran around the expanse of the lake, they slowed and came to a stop at the water's edge. Alton let go of her hand and she stood breathless. After a few moments, Hannah's breathing and that of her companion's slowed into typical rhythm again and she exclaimed, "That was an amusing surprise, and I might add that it felt glorious. I could have never done that if anyone else was around though." Alton only grinned in response before moving to count the children, ensuring that they were all there.

David Hendershaw and Randall and Thomas whisked up their fishing poles in no time and baited their hooks. They had made a deal with Mrs. Harper that if any fish were caught, they should be fried for a supper dish. The girls amused themselves by making delicate wreath crowns for one another out of the fall wildflowers. Hannah grabbed the picnic basket and blanket from where David had hastily dropped it on the ground. Its contents where surprisingly unharmed in the brutality of their treatment and she began to set up the meal.

As each item was removed, Hannah marveled at the vast amount of pleasurable fare. Lambstone and Sweetbread Pie, dainty sandwiches, fruits of the season, Shrewsberry cakes and a range of other delightsome victuals were produced from the large basket. Hannah set each out and eyed them with pleasure. She would most handsomely thank Mrs. Harper for the fine cuisine, hardly expected for their simple outing, when they returned to the house.

She did not have to call the children twice when the meal was all prepared. They came willingly and greedily eyed the food before Alton gave the signal that they might partake of it. Alton often took charge as the eldest of both families' children. It came easily to him, and he never abused his authority. Occasionally, when Hannah asserted her own domineering position, they came to relatively stubborn blows, but such battles rarely happened between them.

Alton Hendershaw was not necessarily handsome in terms of dashing looks. In fact, some thought him somewhat plain. Those who looked deeper, beneath the surface of his physical casing, never thought him plain though. He was everything good at heart, possessing an even temper, pleasing manners, bright refreshing ideals and a fatherly protectiveness of those around him. Only a few close friends and family knew that had weaknesses, though even those weren't so grievous.

At the last Frome Assembly, Hannah had overheard a young lady make several kind remarks about Alton to her friend, each of a nature that would please any man. They were watching Alton and his partner, Miss Henrietta Regis, with great intent as he swept her across the floor

Miss Rebecca Trent spoke in a confidential voice to her friend, Miss Green, "Just look, the charm of his movement is something indescribable; some quality of his step is superior to that of any other man attending. I not only praise his dancing merits, but his character, I have noticed, is amiable and worthy. He is most agreeably jovial, sensitive, and generous in all his dealings. I am extremely astonished that no woman has claimed him thus far..."

Miss Green looked at her friend with eyes searching for information on the lady's feelings. "Surely you do not mean to do so yourself? Why he never casts a glance at any woman, except for Hannah Romsen. My dear friend, you have not been acquainted to our society for long," with the knowledge that Miss Trent had recently moved to Frome from some town in Shropshire, "and he is less likely to look about at any other pretty faces."

Unbeknownst to the two conversationalists, Hannah was standing behind them and had unintentionally heard every uttered word. Of course she knew that the two women had absolutely no idea of the true relationship that bound Hannah and Alton. He was the only truly close friend she allowed in her life, aside from her mother and father. It was a simple matter that did not really need correction. Let the poor girls talk, there was nothing for her to hide.

Over the past seven years, Hannah and Alton had formed a comradeship of complete propriety. Unattached feelings of admiration founded the base of it. There was no question in her mind that nothing serious would come of it, and so she left it at that thought and did not allow the comment to upset her. Quite the opposite, she felt she must encourage Alton on Miss Trent's behalf. The girl was sweet and gentle, everything worthy of Alton, except one fact which Hannah tried best to ignore.

Rebecca Trent had a very turned-up nose that ruined the whole of her features in Hannah's opinion. But then, how could one help what one was born with? She endeavored to forget Miss Trent's unappealing nose and offered inconspicuous hints to Alton, commenting helpfully about Miss Trent's good nature. Of course, he merely smiled each time she praised Rebecca's merits and muttered something polite. Poor Miss Trent's feelings of tenderness were subject to be crushed by an oblivious male.

Chapter Four

Posted on Friday, 8 July 2005

Hannah contemplated on the last meeting between the potential couple. She and Alton had happened to meet Miss Trent in the street on a Saturday morning outing to town. The meeting was brief but both Alton and his admirer were as polite as aristocrats and easily exchanged their greetings. Hannah said little, allowing Alton to take the lead in the conversation. She saw the great display of cordiality Alton presented towards the lady. He inquired after her family and health in a most kindly way.

"Were his polite manners to Miss Trent a bit more polished than usual? Perhaps he too felt something for the sweet girl before him?" she wondered in mind and heart. The look of bliss on the young lady's face was unmistakable. Her very being glowed with radiance, eyes bright, cheeks flushed rosy, reveling in the attentions paid to her by the man she admired.

Though she did not often try her hand in the game of matchmaking, Hannah simply could not excuse the fact that they made a charming couple. From that moment on, she decided to press harder to turn Alton's mind to the fair maiden. She was indeed a young lady worthy of his attentions; no other woman in Frome was so suitable a match for her dear friend.

Hannah's musings were halted after realizing Alton had said her name repeatedly. With a small shake of her head and a blink of her eyes she replied, "Yes? What was that?"

He grinned, showing teeth placed in two ideal lines. "So quiet today, Hannah, what is on your mind? I beg that you will tell me, since 'tis not often you keep a subdued tongue."

"Is that correct, sir? 'Not often'. I daresay you would retract that statement after a fortnight of my silence. Admit it; you enjoy the soft tones of my chatter when you would rather rest your own voice." Her jest was matched with a sarcastic rolling of his eyes. He reached to retrieve another sandwich from the basket at her side, and before taking a bite, asked again what her unvoiced thoughts were.

She would not betray the information she had collected from her vigilant study of the couple. She knew that if Alton were to know of Miss Trent's attachment and that if his own feelings did not coincide, the young lady would suffer heartbreak before Alton had a real chance to form his opinion of her. Hannah merely smiled with the possession of sacred knowledge and asked teasingly if he wouldn't like to know her thoughts. He retorted playfully that her thoughts were her own and if she was going to be so obstinate, then she could keep them to herself and nothing would please him more.

Both burst out in laughter over their pretend dispute and commenced eating in hearty silence. The younger children had hastily downed their meal and resumed their exploration of the autumn world. Alton assisted her in the cleanup and spoke of their preparation for the Bath holiday. At once, Hannah felt the loss of her dear neighbors, even though they had not yet departed. A three month absence would certainly make a gap in her social department. She was almost at loss for what she would do with herself while the Hendershaws were away from home. Perhaps she would order some new pieces of music to conquer.

From an early age Hannah had loved music. Her mother played simple tunes when she was a toddling child, accompanying Hannah's little impromptu dances with lighthearted encouragement. At the age of five, Hannah had been sitting on the settee in the drawing room, studiously working on her needlework under her mother's direction. The moment her mother was summoned to take care of some other chore, she slipped off the couch and walked to the pianoforte and climbed onto the high bench. She was a little breathless after completing the feat, for the bench was very high and had taken quite a bit of scrambling to sit atop it.

She looked over the ivory keys, curiosity ruling her thoughts as she proceeded to press a note. Her light staccato touch produced a quick fleeting sound with a ring. Pleasured that she had made a noise, she attempted it again, finding the pleasure renewed. She tried out a few more notes, though not in any particular fashion. She worked hard at listening to the different tones as she pressed more individual notes. Then she mechanically moved up and down a row of keys, not knowing that she was producing a scale. Nonetheless, she was thrilled to find that she too could make sound. Though they were not songs or tunes like Mother, they were sounds still the same.

Later that week, she again picked out notes on the instrument for a few minutes, this time finding two notes that began one of her favorite ballads. She had heard her mother play it a number of times and knew its tempo and melody by heart. She attempted to find the correct notes, fingers stumbling over the keys until she found just the right one. When she had figured out one complete bar, she sighed with rapture. She was on the road to being a musician. At that tender age, she believed the title to be quite romantic.

Her mother happened to walk by the drawing room entrance on her way to look over the menu with Mrs. Harper and became aware with a start that someone was playing the melody to "All in a Garden Green". It could not be her dear husband, for though he had an ardent appreciation for the gift of music, he could not play a jot. None of the servants would take such liberties with their handsome new instrument and Kitty doubted any of them were instructed in the arts anyhow. As she opened the door, ever so quietly, a tiny gasp of delighted surprise escaped her lips. There sat her daughter, barely five years old, plucking out the notes of the old English ballad. "How ever did she learn that?" Kitty wondered in bewilderment. She felt almost sorry to interrupt, but felt the story behind the awesome performance must be revealed.

"Hannah?" she prompted, with a soft voice. The girl swung around, quite startled but then calmed. She smiled widely at her mother.

"Did you hear, Mother? I can play part of 'Garden Green'!"

"Yes, dear, it was astounding, but where did you ever learn how to perform it? Surely, I have not taught you and no one else has that I know of."

The girl's hazel eyes reflected a studious light and she wrinkled her brow in concentration, trying to explain the situation. "Well, I was in here a day or so ago, doing my needlework until you were called away. I stopped doing my work to try the pianoforte, just for a minute. I know it was wrong to neglect my needlework, Mama, and I'm sorry." Hannah hung her head, afraid to see the hurt in her mother's eyes. The whole time she had thought of her own pleasure and not of obeying Mother who was trying to make her into a respectable lady, and she felt very selfish indeed.

Tender emotions swelled in Kitty's heart at this sorrowful confession. Now as she fought back tears of gratitude for this child, she placed a hand on Hannah shoulder, causing the girl to look up. Alarm registered in Hannah's mind. Was she so bad that she had made Mother cry? Shame washed anew.

"No, no, Hannah. I am not angry with you. My feelings are quite the opposite. Did you find out the notes to that song on your own, dear?" she asked, hugging the troubled little darling. The slight nod of the little one's head caused a flooding of thoughts in Kitty's mind. If Hannah could figure out the notes to one song, why not another? She was bright, why could she not be taught to read music? Why not? The questions flowed through at rapid speed as she collected the other details of the experience.

"Would you like to learn more on the pianoforte, darling?" she asked as she stroked Hannah's chestnut hair. Hannah's eyes brightened noticeably as she exclaimed in the affirmative. Then it was settled, Hannah should learn to play. Kitty regretted that she herself had no knack for teaching music, having only learnt in recent years herself, but knew she could find a suitable instructor somewhere about the countryside. She told Harold of the genius efforts of their daughter and he agreed that a teacher must be secured. They found one with relative ease, a middle-aged woman who lived in Frome, a widow in need of funds to sustain her three children after the death of their father.

Thus began the beginning of Hannah's favorite pastime. Over the years she progressed tremendously in her playing and became quite known around for her skill. Those who knew music well and listened to her play felt there to be something more than her expertise put into the music. It was the amount of spirit and feeling with which she played each piece. It reached the listening ear with an undeniable knowledge that the music came from her very soul. This touch made it more than a passing delight to hear Hannah play, but with each performance came a promise that the listener would end the song feeling whichever emotion the song was meant to portray. Such a natural gift of style was rare to find amongst the musicians of the world and her family treasured it with deep appreciation.

Chapter Five

Posted on Friday, 8 July 2005

Hannah sat at her window three days later, writing away in her little calico-covered book. It was a delicate little piece of fancy, bound in a soft blue and white stripped cloth with a complimenting robin blue ribbon to tie it closed. It was presented to her as an early birthday gift from her only living grandmother, Abigail Romsen. Grandmother Romsen knew how much Hannah loved to write down her thoughts and occasional short tales or poems. The pages of this new book were crisp and white, ready for her to paint her thoughts upon. As a writing tool she used a small pencil, not wanting to bother with the mess of ink.

August 28, 1833

This new book is so wonderful! I shall straightway thank Grandmother for it. I was certainly surprised to find a neatly wrapped parcel awaiting me when I returned from riding my dear horse, Lampe, yesterday afternoon. I tore it open with excitement after reading the note that accompanied the package, "Open when you please, Hannah dear." Mother was present and we both loved the beautiful little book instantly. I will keep my most personal thoughts and feelings here as well as the little trifles I enjoy jotting down every so often.

Today my thoughts are with our neighbors, the Hendershaws, as they travel far from our snug community. They are taking leave of us for a long three months as Mr. Hendershaw establishes himself in some business deal. They are also using the trip as a holiday and I envy them it.

Bath is an exciting place, full of interesting artifacts, curious people, and great landmarks to view. I have been there but twice in my life, but both times its atmosphere intrigued me greatly. I would love to join them, but I must stay here and patiently content myself with other things.

A funny thing did occur today to capture my amusement. I was riding Lampe. Her name is French meaning 'Light', for she is that, light as a small bird soaring on the horizon. Through the East Meadow we flew and down by my favorite little brook. I brought her to a pleasant canter, weaving to and fro by the line of willow trees that grace its banks. I felt released to the gentle wind, akin to my horse, flying on imaginary clouds of contentment. While thus in my limitless fancy, I received a cruel blow. I had led my obedient horse closer to the trees then I had believed and we ran right through the curtains of a weeping willow. The drape of leaves was so thick and hit my face with such force that I nearly fell off dear Lampe. As we slowed and arrived out of the curtain, I found both myself and the horse unharmed and we had a little laugh together.

What followed was not humorous, so it seemed to me, though in future years I daresay I'll look back and chuckle. I returned to the house, fully recovered from the ordeal, and entered through by way of the kitchen. I suppose Mrs. Harper was off with some laundering duty or else she would have stopped me from making a fool of myself. Well, as I proceeded towards my chambers to change for dinner I heard voices in the drawing room and walked to it, my curiosity peaked. I was noticed by Mrs. Fletcher first and the old loose-jaw fairly screeched.

Mrs. Fletcher, I should explain, is a lady in our community that has an uncanny interest in visiting her good neighbors to simply give them advice. She thinks it her solemn bound duty to lecture the world with her remarkable guidance. She reminds me in a way of Great-Aunt Catherine, though not half so ugly and lording. Now that was uncharitable of me to speak of my relation so and I shall repent it by saying at least Aunt Catherine enjoys my musical skills.

Really, she is not my aunt by blood, but is the aunt of my mother's sister's husband, Fitzwilliam Darcy. Still, she is somehow fond of us Romsen children, having met us at Georgiana's, Uncle Darcy's younger sister, return from Edinburgh three years ago.

Mrs. Fletcher happened to be midst a lecture to Mother about the latest fashion in hats when I appeared. Mother stared for a second then her dear mouth turned up into a smile and I saw immediate unspoken laughter in her eyes. Mrs. Fletcher's voice rose uncommonly high, "Miss Romsen, is it a modern fashion to be decked with the embellishments of nature?" She stared blatantly at me, hardly requiring a reply. I look down at my gown and found several crisp leaves stuck fast to the skirt. I reached up to feel my hair; it too was covered with scads of leafy twigs and particles.

I am sure I blushed clear to my toes as I mumbled an excuse and slipped out the door and down the hall. I was huffing at the top of the stairs with the humiliation just placed on me. Mrs. Fletcher is not only an instructor on every subject, but also a well-known gossip in the town and word of my interesting attire would certainly be spread. I reached my rooms and glanced horrified in the full-length mirror. Not only was I sprinkled with verdant array, but my face was smudged with wet mud spots, no doubt left on the willow's boughs from the light rain the previous evening.

I am thoroughly chastened and humbled. From now on I'll look where I am steering poor Lampe! She is such a faithful little horse that she would move any way I guided her without questioning my sanity or judgment. What a foolish, silly little piece I am at times!

Now, the months of August and September passed with painful sluggishness, with the exception of Hannah's eighteenth birthday. She received kind gifts and trifles from her family members and Mrs. Harper took the precious time to make her choice dessert, almond cheesecakes. Her favorite gift, aside from her little book, was a tiny locket, given thoughtfully to her by Daniel. It was traditionally formed into a heart, but a beautiful and artistic flower arose from its center. The blossom was undoubtedly a forget-me-not bloom, her favorite flower. Tears sprung in her eyes as she uncovered it from the box of green velvet. She could imagine what it had taken her younger brother to come up with such a gift. She wore it around her neck always, it pleased her so.

Nothing worthy of mention occurred during those two months until it was nearing a windy November. Kitty came in from a brisk walk to town with the three youngest children. Hannah looked up from where she was practicing her new Mozart piece at the pianoforte and saw a letter in her mother's hand. Kitty was reading it assiduously, nodding and smiling at turns.

Then a questioning look came across her face, she appeared to be pondering something. Hannah inquired gently and she replied that the letter was from her eldest sister Jane Bingley. They were soon to arrive in London where they were to stay for the winter, moving from their estate in Longbourn, Herefordshire. They usually removed to Town during the cold months.

Kitty handed the letter to her daughter, pointed to a paragraph and waited in gathering silence.

Hannah's eyes skimmed over the carefully scripted letters until the phrase "Hannah join us" caught her attention. It seemed that Aunt Jane was asking if Hannah would care to join them for two months in Town. The extra pair of hands would benefit Jane, since she had several young children to care for. Hannah was known to the family as a helpful, responsible girl and she undeniably had a way with children. This would be a wonderful chance for Hannah to be introduced to London society and see some of the sights of the great city as well. The Bingleys were well liked by the Town and there would be ample opportunities for her to get out and attend enjoyable functions.

Kitty looked at Hannah, her face an unreadable pose. "I'll let the decision be your own, if your father agrees to it. Oh, I do not deny what a wonderful chance it will be for you, with all those parties and gatherings, but of course we shall miss you." She touched Hannah's arm and gave her an affectionate pat, "Think it over, dear." Hannah smiled gratefully and announced she was going to her rooms.

Two months was a dreadfully long time to be separated from her family, but thrill ran up her spine at the prospect of visiting London, the town that the whole of England seemed to center around. What adventures, people, and sights awaited her if she chose to accept? What was there that could hold her back from accepting? Nothing, she realized, except maybe the possibility of extreme homesickness.

As she thought more on it, her excitement grew until she knew she must go. How could she give up this chance and live with the regret of missing such an opportunity? No, she decidedly gave a nod of her head, as if it resolved the whole thing. Father would very likely agree to it, since he liked to see her get out in public and make a name for herself. She would be a beautiful representation of the Romsen family while there and would enjoy herself as a young lady should.

A suddenly distress crossed her mind, what should she wear? In Frome, many people were unaccustomed to fine dress since most of the town folk were of a middleclass group. Her family was considered wealthy by many, though they did not grudge them the fact. The Romsens had taken special care that all their clothes were fresh and clean, but that unnecessary extremes were avoided. While her dresses were quite nice and fit her well, she feared them not quite altogether fitting for the parties and balls held in London. Though she hated to ask such a favor of her hardworking father, one or two new gowns should be purchased. She made up her mind to just ask for one for outing-going and Hannah would be satisfied.

Later that evening as they sat down to dinner, Harold Romsen spoke to his daughter, "Hannah, dear, your mother told me of the splendid opportunity placed at your feet. I gave my blessing if it is your desire to accept the invitation provided by Jane and Charles. What do you have to say? We," he said with a quick glance towards Kitty, "want it to be solely your own decision."

Hannah smiled at the dearness of her parents. Oh, how she would long for them at times during the next few months! Her thoughts turned to the compensations of the trip though and her heart lightened. She placed down her fork carefully and flashed a dazzling smile at her cherished father. "Thank you, Papa. I know I'll be sick at heart for you and the family at times, but I really do want to go. I desire to go help Aunt Jane with the children; I admit that I am extremely fond of them. Settling into a new place can be stressful, especially with children underfoot. I resolve to be of assistance and lighten her load of burden as they settle in. And the social engagements will be interesting in the least I suppose."

Her wide hazel eyes danced at the thoughts of sparkling chandeliers hung over whirling couples in majestic halls, attending the concerts of the great musicians, and visiting with her pleasant relatives. Perhaps she might even have a chance to see other members of her mother's family, Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Darcy lived within a day's travel distance of London.

The previous thoughts of her wardrobe came back to mind and her mouth unconsciously dropped into a frown. "But what is it, darling?" Harold questioned, sensing her discontinuation of happiness.

"Well, Father, you know I am grateful for everything you and Mother have given me and I know this may be selfish to ask, but ... may I purchase a new gown for party-going? My others hardly seem suitable for London society."

Her modesty and magnanimity elated Harold and he exclaimed with a deep laugh, "You dear thing, of course you shall have new gowns!"

Her eyes widened more as she repeated the word, "Gowns?"

"Yes, gowns, and hats and shoes and what ever other things a proper young lady needs to show herself in London. Nothing but the best to be found in Frome."

Her wonderment deepened. "Really Father, I don't need all that! One or two gowns should suffice..."

He took her hand and pressed it tenderly. "Nevertheless, you and your mother will go into Frome or some other city and get whatever your trip requires. Why just the other day, I passed Mrs. Fletcher on the road and in three minute's conversation, she advised me that you should add to your wardrobe." He replied with a merry wink. Hannah returned his squeeze and was contented though she knew Father was spoiling her mercilessly.

Chapter Six

Posted on Friday, 22 July 2005

"Only three days remain," Hannah considered as she repacked her portmanteau for the third time. She had crammed as many items in as possible and still wondered how she would ever fit everything into the three bags she was allowed to take. Her father gave her the strict luggage guidelines the Royal Mail permitted on their coaches:

"No more than 3 articles, Portmanteau, or Carpet Bags, are on any pretense to be allowed, whether they be large or small. Portmanteau is not to exceed 2 feet 4 inches in length, and 1 foot 6 inches in height. By Portmanteau is meant any articles made of or covered in Leather or Hair, and Boxes of other Materials, Bundles, Baskets etc. are to be rejected. No luggage to be allowed on the roof until the front boot is full, and only then if the space is not required for additional mail bags."

Harold had secured her passage on one of the Upper mail coaches leaving from Bath that Tuesday. He arranged to personally escort her to Bath in his own carriage. There she would stay with the Hendershaws in their temporary home until her final departure. She was to leave at five o' clock Tuesday evening and arrive in London the next day.

The details caused Hannah's head to whirl with their perplexity, but she was grateful to be traveling straight through with the mail. There was the added security of a guard, no coach changes, better class of passengers, and numerous other advantages traveling with the Royal Mail.

The prospect of visiting the Hendershaws the night before her departure was comforting to Hannah. They would see her to the inn that her coach departed from. Her tension eased as she went over this again and again.

She had every right to worry however, being a young woman unescorted by any personal acquaintances, and traveling in the dead of night through country unfamiliar to her. The previous night she had received little sleep, due to the worrying over these facts. Hannah was accustomed to being responsible but the thought of being left to her own devices frightened her secretly. She prayed everything would go smoothly.

Hannah and Mr. Romsen arrived at Bath on Monday afternoon. He gave her over to the care of their neighbors, bade her a tender farewell and left for the journey back home. She was quite comfortable among their old friends and slept peacefully that night in Prissy's bed. Mr. Hendershaw and Alton relayed her to the Lamb Inn the next evening, set her on the coach and waved goodbye as she rolled away.

She got a good seat inside and nodded to her companion, an older woman, who spoke but a few words their entire trip. The ride was uneventful traveling through the late hours. The time seemed to go by with relative ease, so that Hannah was quite surprised when morning's light shone through the window. She rubbed the inkling of sleep from her eyes, descended from the carriage when they stopped at a little inn for breakfast and ate a filling meal. After the stop they continued on. Several hours later they arrived at the General Post Office in St. Martins le Grand, London.

As the coach rolled to a gradual halt, Hannah looked anxiously out the window, hoping to catch sight of her uncle. The coachman assisted her down the steps and asked about her luggage. He situated it around her as she sat down on a bench just outside the tall Portland stone building. Hannah could see no sign of Charles Bingley so she settled to wait a few minutes. After all, what other alternatives were offered?

The street was active with cabs and carriages wheeling on busily. A few people were out hustling about their business. At least here there was some opportunity for entertainment, she considered.

Hannah had not waited above fifteen minutes before a handsome vehicle halted on the street and a familiar figure walked forward to greet her. She stood quickly and crossed the distance to give her uncle a quick hug and kiss. Charles Bingley's eyes twinkled with their usual joviality as he looked her up and down. "Hannah, my dear, it is wonderful to see you and all in one piece! I trust your journey was not unpleasant?"

She smiled up at him, endeared by his genuine concern. "No, I traveled quite in comfort. Father was very wise and prudent in arranging for me to travel with the mail. It was so easy that I had no cause for distress."

"Ah, good!" He uttered as he took her by the elbow and guided her towards his carriage. He gave instructions to his coachman for the luggage. They drove on through the London streets, joining in hearty conversation over her trip. Past shops, theatres and squares they drove, past all the busy people of London.

Here and there Hannah spotted the poor of the city, their garb standing out against the gaudy attire of the wealthy, like odd trampled flowers in a garden of vibrantly colored blossoms. It was sad that some people were so unfortunate. Sympathy stirred deep inside her as she watched a young boy hail gentleman for a shoeshine. The carriage moved speedily on, so she did not see whether or not the gentleman accepted the service.

It was about three miles distance from the General Post Office to Regent Park, which was where, along its East side, the Bingley's had rented their townhouse. As they turned into street after street, drove past square after square, Hannah was reminded overwhelmingly of the numerous parts of the city. She gazed widely at the magnificent structures along some streets. Why they were easily reputed as the finest shows of architecture in the town was unmistakable.

They drove past Russell Square and Hannah spotted the tall figure statue of the fifth Duke of Bedford. His hand rested heavily on the handle of a plow, little sheep played at his feet. Hannah doubted that even a farming figure of royalty would be capable of coaxing sheep to him. The sculpture was very unrealistic in her opinion. Artists were an imaginative lot.

Charles waved a hand at a row of fine houses. "This is it. Cumberland Terrace."

Hannah unconsciously drew a hand to her mouth. There, towering above her, was a building of white sparkling stone, supported by thick carved pillars. She viewed balconies spilling out from the inner house, surrounded by the great marble-looking stone. It was much grander than any house in Frome. Her awe delighted her uncle and he gave her a nudge and a chuckle.

"Uncle Charles, this must be the most pleasant spot in London! The building is gorgeous."

He pointed to the other side of the street and directed her attention to a section of Regent Park. An imposing villa stuck out from the beautiful greenery. "Sir Taylor's place, lovely prospect. The entire park is lovely. After you get settled in I am sure Emily will enjoy showing you around the place."

She nodded speechlessly as they drove through a large arch, round to the back of the terrace. As Hannah and her uncle entered the house, the rest of the Bingley family made a joyful clamor to welcome their new arrival. Warm embraces and kisses on cheeks went well around before Hannah could even remove her wrappings.

There they all stood, her Aunt Jane, sweet and angelic as ever, Emily and Emmett, her twin cousins who were barely her seniors, young Robert, Henry and Eliza smilingly expectantly at her. It warmed her heart to see the family. Hannah loved her relations immeasurably. If she did not feel so she would not have desired to leave home for such duration of time.

She waved away her aunt's excuses for the overpowering greeting, delighted by the reception. The children hung on her hands and arms, demanding her attention, asking questions at rapid speed. She allowed herself to be led to the parlor where she could comfortably give them her full attention.

Chapter Seven

Posted on Friday, 22 July 2005

Hannah rested easily on the settee with an arm around little Eliza. She brushed a curl fondly from the girl's forehead and studied her sunny-shaded locks. Eliza turned up to her with a trusting smile and asked if Dimples had come on the journey too. "Dimples" was the beloved Romsen feline who ruled the sitting room at home. Usually animals were not permitted in the house, but Dimples was the family pet and therefore above the commonplace carriage-house cats.

Hannah told her that Dimples would not have liked to be moving so far from her velvet cushion, and had stayed at home. But she rubbed away the child's frowning brow with a pleasant inquiry after her new clothes. Eliza was more than happy to oblige her. The little girl's rendering of her trip to the dress maker's shop was uncommonly descriptive for one so young. She not doubt had a sharp mind and a quick assessment of her surroundings, much like her namesake, their aunt Elizabeth.

"Dear Hannah, are we tiring you? The trip was long and taxed your strength at least a little, I'm sure. Would you like to rest now before we dine?" Aunt Jane asked with concern in her eyes.

Hannah smiled and thanked her for the thoughtfulness. "But I think I can hold out for a few minutes more. I am just gratified to be here with you all that I wish nothing more than to be in your company." Jane answered by the gesture of giving her hand a loving squeeze.

Charles Bingley piped up cheerfully, "Your father's business is growing favorably, I trust?"

"Yes, he is most pleased with a new transaction he just settled. He hopes to sell the five new colts within a matter of months. I will miss one colt in particular though."

"Ah, yes. One risk of raising and selling animals as fine as your father does, you do grow attached to them."

"Do you still have your beloved Lampe?" Emmett asked with a rare crack of a smile, for he was usually a very serious type of young man.

"Yes, indeed I do. I should not retire her unless her health fails. But she is well and has carried me through the grounds of Sharingbrooks Glade with all possible spirit of a faithful steed. I shall miss her while I am away, but that is of no consequence for I do have everyone here to keep my attentions otherwise engaged. You too, little imp!" Eliza squealed as Hannah gently tickled beneath her arm.

Emily sat in the chair across from them, her light blue eyes touched with merriment. Hannah was drawn to her delicate features again and again. Her hair was up in the most recent London fashion, with soft tendrils of reddish-gold hair trailing down her temples. She was uncommonly pretty with her graceful neck and ready smile.

Hannah pressed down the touch of envy she felt for Emily. She loved her cousin more than any other young woman in the world, but that didn't stop her from coveting a little. Emily was always more beautiful, more well-known in society, more graceful. Hannah, being human, saw her cousin's lovely points and wished she were similarly endowed. Now Emily looked her over with excitement and spoke, "We have a spare room set up for you, and if you'd rather, you can stay in there, but..." with a quick glance at her mother she continued, "I just wondered if you would care to share my room. I would be so glad of your company."

Hannah smiled softly, "I would like that too. If you don't mind, of course, Aunt?"

Jane nodded her consent, "I remember when Lizzy and I would spend nights talking in bed. I know you two have much to catch up on. But should you decide it is too crowding, Hannah, never hesitate to ask for a removal to the spare room."

Emily raised a brow, sharing a conspiring look with Hannah. Their guest laughed, "As long as she does not tire of my mumbling and kicking in my sleep, we should get along very nicely."

Emily burst out, "You do not kick and talk in your sleep!" Then in a little less certain tone, "At least you didn't when we were ten." Hannah giggled and everyone laughed. Emily had been take, falling victim to the joke.

After a half-hour of visiting time, Emily ushered her up to their room where she could freshen up before dining. They came back down and ate a hearty meal. When the meal was concluded, Emily and Hannah played with the younger children while Mr. and Mrs. Bingley had a meeting to overview the household needs. Settling into a new residence was always a engaging affair which required much organization. Hannah was grateful again to be with them in their time of need.

Chapter Eight

Posted on Friday, 4 November 2005

"You would have them fight to the death then?"

"Indeed not!" Emily sounded indifferent to her cousin's suggestion. She and Hannah were nicely settled beneath several comforters on the bed.

Hannah's eyes were mirthful as she poked her cousin's side. "Then you must choose neither, or at least one of the poor chaps. If your affections are not engaged too deeply, I would suggest that you select the former option. Here in Town there are a plentiful lot of young men, especially with the *Little Season still upon us. Though I have yet to see any that catch my attention, in the extension amount of time that I have been here." her voice touched with sarcasm.

Hannah propped her head up with an elbow as Emily turned to look at her earnestly. "You will soon, I am sure. The ball at the Plaudins's will be the night where you will see why this place is called the Marriage Mart. There promises to be at least twelve young men in attendance, all unmarried."

Hannah raised a playful brow, "Including the two that worship you?"

"I think they would not miss it for anything." Emily blushed pink.

"So then, I shall be left alone with no one to introduce me while you dance with them by turn. I'll be left unleashed in a room full of young men."

"Since when have you needed a diligent chaperone, Hannah?" The elder girl giggled, knowing full well that her cousin was a very proper young lady. "I daresay you'll find friends enough. Mayhap I will talk Emmett into taking you upon the dance floor once or twice. That is ... if you do not kick in your sleep tonight."

"You are most generous to me, dear cousin. I do not know how I shall be able to repay you for your condescension."

"Now you've made me think of an unpleasant person and I will not be generous at all."

Hannah knew well the answer, but asked whom she meant..

"That horrid man, Mr. Collins, of course."

Their giggles were interrupted by a knock on the door. A muted voice emerged from without, "Girls, kindly remember that others are settling in for a night's rest, even if you two are far from slumber."

Emily replied ashamedly, "Sorry, Mother. We will try to be quiet."

"Thank you. Sleep well, dears."

As Mrs. Bingley's footfalls faded down the hall, "Emily, what do you plan to do tomorrow? I would like to tag along if you are going somewhere. That is ... if you do not mind terribly."

"Of course you are coming along with me! I think a shopping spree is in store. We might convince my friend Annette Watkins to join us. What fun that will be!" Hannah agreed with enthusiasm.

That next morning, the London streets bustled with action. Three young ladies rode through the streets, established in a fine carriage. Hannah, the quietest one of the party, eagerly received the intriguing sights, smells and sounds of city life into her senses. The twittering vocals that came from the opposite seat had no effect on her attention to the street life without. She spied a man peddling everything from brass doorknobs to silver spoons, a flower girl, an old haggard women with no less than five children near her skirts, a group of fine gentleman greeting each other cordially, some with bedecked wives on their arms, and so much more. London., she decided, presented some of the very best and worst England had to offer.

The carriage stopped at their first destination. As the ladies stepped down, Hannah's eye scanned the scene before her. A young boy, similar to the one she had noticed yesterday on their way to Cumberland Terrace, stood near a shop's door. His dirty attire badly clashed with the handsome tunics displayed in the window behind him. Hannah's heart seemed to press within her. He must have been around nine or ten years of age, but a life of poverty had undoubtedly taken his childhood from him. His eyes peered out from beneath a mud-smudged cap and a shock of blond hair showed begging to be cut. Hannah watched a constable come along and usher him away from the shop entrance, giving him a stern reproach for loitering.

At that moment, Hannah realized how many poverty stricken people were around her. They dotted the square, barely blending in with the drabness of the walls and pavement. She also noticed how the higher class pedestrians looked past their miserable street companions. Hannah, stepped forward away from her party. The calls of her companions were unheard as she moved toward the boy, whose back was toward her. She tapped him on the shoulder, inciting a flinch and frightened look.

"I'm sorry, Miss. I didn't mean anything." His voice cracked in reply to her touch. The poor little dear! "No, you have done nothing wrong, I have need of a helper, if you are free this afternoon?"

His eyes and face indicated surprise, suspicion and then eagerness. "And what would you be needing help with?"

Hannah gestured back to her companions, "We... my friends and I, are doing a bit of shopping. We will be needing a fine, strong fellow to help us tote such heavy loads from a few shops. I think you look sturdy enough. I would be more than glad to pay you for your trouble. Would that be acceptable to you?"

James Rollier, as he presented himself, consented to the agreement zealously and returned with her to where the puzzled young ladies stood.

"Miss Romsen, just what is this?" Annette Watkins questioned, making a plain show of her intolerance for the unkempt boy before them.

Hannah, not about to be bullied, rested a protective hand on the boys' shoulder. "This is James, and I have asked him to help me carry my purchases whilst we shop."

Emily looked doubtful and cast a sideways glance at her aggravated friend, "Hannah, I'm not sure that..." But then she studied Hannah and understood that somehow her cousin was resolved in this action. "Very well, let's go into Rumford's, there across the street."

Annette protested strongly, "But Emily, a common peasant... that child following us around Regent Street..."

"Hush, Annette. It is Hannah's own business whom she commissions for their services."

Miss Watkins scrunched up her face once again in disgust before leaving the matter silent. Hannah gave a smile of reassurance to her charge and was rewarded with one of his own, though it was slow in coming.

Hannah could not suppose what the youth had been through in his short, rough life, but she knew that he had never, nor would ever have the comforts that her own brother had been given. Determined to make a difference in his life, she planned to give him a good portion of the allowance her father had granted her for London shopping. She could do without a great deal of the frippery and dainties. He and his family could put her quid to much more sensible and efficient use, she was sure.

The party moved on from shop to shop, examining, comparing and buying to their heart's content. After the fourth shop they had frequented, Emily announced a stop at *Hartley's Gowns and Fancies. The store's window showed an alluring display of folds of satins and silks, gloves, and an array of things to delight the ladies of London.

As they entered in, leaving James to wait outside the door, a pleasant smell of some floral odor invigorated their senses. Squeals of delight escaped Miss Watkin's throat as she began to venerate what she proclaimed to be a "darling" set of slippers. Hannah looked away from this outrageous demonstration of triviality and her eye caught a glint of rosy shaded cloth. Her gaze became riveted, as her companions, to the gown that hung lightly on a stand in the corner of the room. She moved to it, already knowing it was a priceless gown.

She reached out to run a finger over the delicate needlework that ran along its neckline. The floral shapes were embroidered to perfection and the thread contrasted slightly darker than the cloth. Light pink ribbon encircled the edges of the sleeves and hem of the dress. The fabric was dazzling in itself.

Emily joined her, "Hannah, it's simply gorgeous! Are you not looking for the very thing? I would purchase it myself, but I have enough gowns and it would not look half as well on me. Why, just to see you near it makes your eyes lovelier. It matches your complexion excellently."

Hannah fought within herself, whether or not it would be pure inanity to purchase such an exquisite gown. Remembering again, as she found it necessary to repeat to herself several times, that she was not in the more subordinate society of Frome, but in the fashionable city of London, she nodded.

A clerk stepped up to them, undoubtedly excited at the prospect of customers, and inquired whether one of the young ladies would care to try on the gown. Emily pushed Hannah forward and she followed the woman into a back room where she could have privacy to try the dress. As she buttoned the back, she stood back from the floor-length mirror to survey how it fit. Hannah gasped. It was indeed a lovely gown and the color, she acknowledged, harmonized with her features in an amazing way. But her smile fell as she studied the bodice of the dress.

With a sigh of melancholy, she removed the gown and put back on her everyday dress of cotton. She folded the roseate material and reentered the main body of the shop.

Author's Note

*Little Season -

A smaller version of the Season, when London society attended a variety of entertainments. The Little Season took place from September to mid-November.

*Hartley's Gowns and Fancies, was a shop made up by myself for the purpose of the story.

Chapter Nine

Posted on Thursday, 10 November 2005

Emily, Miss Watkins, and the clerk were consulting over a shawl when she arrived beside them.

"Is it to your taste, Madam?" The clerk asked, hands reached out to pack it.

"Of course she is taking it." Emily offered, but when Hannah remained silent she questioned, asking if it was the correct size.

Hannah handed the piece back to the clerk and announced that it had fit, but she would not be buying the gown. Emily asked, "Why ever not, Hannah? It's a lovely gown and I did not see that the price was above your preference..."

Resolutely, Hannah shook her head, "It will not do for me. The neckline is too low for my comfort. I simply would not feel at ease in it."

"And just where is your comfort?" Annette snickered. Hannah implied that the gown she wore presently was her preference.

"Well, I never!" Annette huffed in exasperation. "Miss Romsen, have you not learnt of the way of things? This town is called the Marriage Mart for good reasons. Do you not wish to secure a good husband? Why, you'll never come with in a inch of catching a well-heeled man!"

Hannah's eyes flashed in aggravation, yet she kept a calm civility in her tone, "Miss Watkins, if that is your idea of securing a worthy or wealthy husband, two traits which you esteem to be the same, by displaying yourself immodestly, I would rather marry a country farmer."

"Indeed!" sputtered the incensed girl, "Well, birds of a feather flock together."

Emily cut in with a quiet, yet forceful plea, "I believe that is enough, ladies. It will not do to argue the point, Annette, when such an action would compromise Hannah's principles. I think we must leave and perhaps return at a later time this week." She guided her companions outside.

Even whilst in her flustered state, Hannah remembered her little friend who had waited so patiently by the door, arms loaded with packages.

"Young Master Rollier, I am afraid we must go home now. You have done a good service for me today. When our carriage comes up, just hand the parcels to the driver and I shall give you the payment you so creditably earned."

He nodded and touched a hand to his cap, "Very good, ma'am."

When Uncle Charles's carriage came to the steps, all their articles were set atop the trap. Emily and Annette sat inside while James received his pay. His eyes grew wide at the generous handful of coins she enfolded into his upturned palm.

When he began to protest, she placed a finger to her lips. "Shh, do not question the sum. Just take it to your mother and have her put it good use."

"Thank you, ma'am." His voice was reverent as she gave his arm a gentle compression and turned to enter the carriage.

Hannah avoided Miss Watkins's constant glares of contempt and kept a still tongue in her head. The silence hung heavily in the stifling air for the whole of the trip. No one spoke until Miss Watkins was conveyed to her home.

Propriety was nearly brushed beneath the rug as they said their "good days". Hannah pushed back unkindly thoughts and offered a polite return to Annette's nod of leave-taking. Emily turned round in her seat after looking out the window and took Hannah's hands in hers.

"I am truly sorry for the awful way she mistreated you, Hannah. Had I known she would be so contemptuous of you, I would not have arranged to have Annette come."

Hannah gave her cousin's hand a reassuring clasp, "No, you could not have foreseen so many conflicts. And I am afraid it is partially my fault for being so inflexible, perhaps....."

"Oh, no...." Emily cried in earnest. "I think you did entirely right to stick to your convictions. In a moment, you made me realize how truly small-minded Annette is. I was blinded by her easy way of pretend acceptance. I should have not known her true nature had you not the courage to speak out. And more, Hannah, I believe you are right."

"About what?"

"Catching a good husband, if you truthfully want a respectable man then you must have similar standards."

Hannah gave Emily an appreciative look before withdrawing her hands and folding them in her lap. "Those are my thoughts as well. Oh, but Emily, is was so very hard to give up that gown! I suppose I am glad for Miss Watkin's derisive presence, for while in conflict with her I had little time to regret my choice."

When they arrived back at Cumberland Terrace, a low honeyed voice sounded in the parlor. Hannah and Emily shared a look before entering the room. There, sitting ceremoniously on the

settee, was none other than Mr. Bingley's elder sister, Caroline. The tall, imposing lady, dressed in a rather sickening jade-colored gown, was stopped amid a haughty laugh. She rose to greet them, all the while looking Hannah over in a most unsettling way.

"Emily, dear." she crooned after receiving a dutiful embrace from her niece. "And is this Hannah, young Miss Romsen, my, haven't you grown taller..."

Hannah curtsied with respect, though it was trying for her to be deferential in Miss Bingley's presence. She was still Miss Bingley, despite the many attempts she had made to catch a husband. Hannah remembered that Caroline had once tried to entrap even her Uncle Darcy.

Hannah supposed she knew more about this woman then perhaps even Miss Bingley knew of herself. The only good thing Miss Bingley was entitled to was the respect she required as Charles's sister, in Hannah's hasty opinion. She resolved to shower the lady with kindness and cling to the hope that Caroline's call would be as brief as possible.

"And how are your mother and father?" Caroline asked, with false interest embedded in her pointed features.

"Fine, thank you, ma'am. And yourself, how do you fare?"

"My, what a polite young lady you are, to inquire after my well-being! How old are you now, my dear ... if I recollect correctly, you are fifteen?"

Hannah seethed at this apparent affront, but coolly and smilingly answered, "I recently celebrated my eighteen birthday."

"Ah." Caroline responded before turning back to Jane, who had been watching the interaction with weariness. "Well, Jane, now that you have talked my brother into returning to Town, I must asked how you accomplished the task. You know, despite my several pleas, he has not surrendered. Tell me, by which means did you persuade him? Or should I not ask?"

Hannah's stomach turned. Her aunt, always a lady of the highest respectability, answered calmly and gently. "Caroline, I could never persuade Charles to do anything contrary to his own desires. He is a determined man who does what he thinks best for his family. We thought it a good thing to quit Meryton for a season and give Emily and Emmett a taste of society." She looked warmly at her eldest daughter. " I suppose I did not specify, in my last letter, that we were only to stay for a time in London. I am sorry if you were lead to believe differently."

Caroline was taken aback, amusingly, before recovering with quick falsity again. "I should have known that he could not stay away from his beloved country home for longer. And Hannah's parents have sent her for a "taste" as well, I suppose?"

Hannah refused to look at the merciless woman but chose instead to watch her aunt answer with the all the forbearance and majesty of a dignitary. "No, actually we invited Hannah as a guest, as company for Emily, and we did think that her help with the children would be a blessing. She has thus far not disappointed us." This, with a heartfelt, reassuring smile from Jane, made Hannah almost able to brush aside Caroline's insults with ease.

"Now Jane, I must ask that you take every opportunity to call upon me. I will so enjoy seeing you and Charles often now that you are come to Town."

"Hmpf! The first true sincerity I've heard from her the entire length of the visit." Hannah thought unkindly, before checking herself once again. It would not do for her to think such ill judgements on her aunt's relation.

Nearly a half hour later, Caroline stepped down the front steps, reminding them to call upon her on the morrow. Hannah, feeling relieved, looked to find her dear aunt pale and disconcerted somewhat, which of course no one could blame her for. Jane turned to her and gathered her in a soothing hug.

"I am so sorry, Hannah. She had no right to treat you so horribly. I am not making excuses for her behavior, but there are times when we must simply ignore people's remarks, lest we cause a greater conflict."

Hannah looked up forlornly into her aunt's blue eyes, "It seems that I am an objectionable young lady today and that I do not live up to the standards of London society."

Emily told her mother of the dispute Hannah had with Miss Watkins earlier. Jane comforted her as best she could.

"Do not feel dejected, my dear, you were entirely in the right. And when you do what you feel is best, even if it is questioned by your peers and associates, you must simply move forward and linger upon their opinions no longer." The older woman spoke in such a tone, with such gentle verification, that Hannah, for a moment, saw a glimpse of her own mother in her. A tear slid down her cheek as she hugged Jane with her heart's full gratitude.

Alone, Hannah climbed the stairs to Emily's room, begging to rest on account of what she had been through. She entered the room as a few more tears slid gently from her tired eyes. Finding her portmanteau, she reached inside and found her little blue book. She sighed wearily as she took out her pencil and began to write out her woes. An hour later her heart was soothed by the spilling of her grief. Had Hannah not been blessed with the ability to write out her feelings, she would have surely gone mad long ago.

"Charles, do you not think we could manage it? After all she has been through on account of us? She deserves something." Jane held her husband's hand two nights later, cradling his large one in her small. The fire in the library's hearth crackled comfortingly, as she stood off to his side.

"Darling, you are an angel as I always have known. Of course, I trust you to carry out what you deem is right. You hardly need my permission for this sort of thing." He whispered and brushed her cheek worshipfully. His action was rewarded with the warmest of her smiles and accompanied by an embrace about his shoulders. He stood up, turned from his position at his desk and more fully returned the gesture.

They remained quiet, standing so, content in the very presence of the other. Moments later their eldest son happened upon them in his quest for a book, but he settled to leave them uninterrupted.

As Emmett walked back to his room, a faint smile passed his lips.

Jane and Emily sat closely together on the divan in the drawing room, whispering pleasurably like two school girls. Hannah descended the stairs and entered to see them thus positioned. Inclined to find out what the excitement was about she moved near to hear the chinwag better. But as she drew close, they ceased speaking. A queer blush came over her aunt's cheeks. Emily looked up in all innocence and composition and asked if Hannah would like to take a walk round the edge of Regent Park that afternoon. Still struggling to decipher the obvious secrecy the two women had shared, she accepted most gratefully.

In the week that she had been in London, aside from the second day of her visit, she had enjoyed her experiences. The Bingley family was, as always, sensitive and attentive to her every need. The town was full of so many wonders that her mind nearly spun trying to keep track of all the places they had been, and also those which she was promised they would frequent as well. Homesickness had luckily not settled in yet, though she was not doubtful that she would have a small portion of it within the next week.

Chapter Ten

Posted on Thursday, 15 June 2006

Each day proved to be genuine pleasure. Hannah hardly remembered to lament her situation far from home. The bond of friendship and mutual affection that she had with each Bingley family member, excepting Caroline, put her at ease. She thoroughly enjoyed her cousins, both the older and younger sets. In the morning hours she played with the boys and Eliza, while the afternoons were devoted to Emily and occasionally Emmett. They had many rousing games of chess and strolls along the edge of Regent Park. The evenings were a particular comfort as the family joined together to the sitting room to speak of the day's happenings and reminisce family memories.

Entering into the room on one such, Hannah found the children cheerfully engaged in a game of wit. Mr. Bingley's sat very comfortably in his cushioned chair, with a leg crossed leisurely across the other. He studied the Evening Post, restlessly turning the folds of paper.

When Hannah's presence was known, he leapt up and took her hand. "Now I have a splendid idea! It has been long since we had an adequate musician here. I mean to say we have not had the delight of hearing you on the pianoforte, Hannah. Would you be persuaded to give us a small concert? I long for some music. As you know, Emily does not care to practice." His expression was chiding as he directed his look to his daughter. Emily looked contrite, but seemed not about to repent.

Looking to her aunt, Hannah saw Jane nod assent. "If you feel to do so, I would indulge your uncle and the rest of us. Go on, dear."

Hannah accepted gratefully. Her fingers had yearned to touch the keys, but she had not dared ask to use their instrument. The wood gleamed rich in the candlelight, the keys stood out clear white against it. She moved into the familiar position on the bench.

Sorting through her mind, she decided on a piece to perform. Even before touching the keys, she felt happy. Creating music always brought her satisfaction and joy. She began with a gentle, lighthearted piece by Brahms. The intermezzo climbed nimbly from one measure to the next, softly pushing its way to her fingers from her memory. It surged and receded much like the waves, in a constant rhythm. This, as well as being her favorite, was one of the only ones she could perform by heart.

Though bestowed with much talent, she had difficultly in memorizing pieces. As she stroked out the last few notes and closed the piece, silence had claimed her audience. Her uncle held a sobered, yet grinning countenance. Sighing contentedly, he proclaimed, "Magnificent."

Emmett stirred, then applauded and the rest followed suit. Hannah knew her cheeks were burning but she hardly cared. "That is my favorite one."

"And so it should be," Charles agreed. "It is moving, very soothing with its harmonies. The changing of the melody from one hand to the other gives it a sense of infinite tranquility."

Jane looked up from her needlework, "I did not recall you being such an expert in the field of music, Mr. Bingley."

Charles grinned, "I suppose I'm a bit out of practice now, but my sisters both gave me enough experience betwixt themselves as they learnt the art. I was oft times forced into being their audience or to attend their lessons. So many years of hearing them pound and plunk their way through Handel and the like left with little ignorance. I wonder that I didn't ever take the notion to learn myself. Pity."

With the regularity of music now restored to her, Hannah felt complete. She practiced every day when mot otherwise engaged. One afternoon, she was moving with fiery fervor on a piece called Tarantella. It was known as a dance that originated in Italy's mountain country where many dreaded Tarantula's dwelt. The music was played at a dangerous tempo. This was to enable the victim of the spider's bite to dance so hard that he could prevent himself from falling into a coma.

Hannah's heart beat wildly with the music. Her fingers tapped the keys fluently. She was so involved with in the reel that she did not see or hear the three intruders enter. When the song had finished one of them shifted, alerting her to the presence. Expecting to see one of the family, her hand flew to her heart when it was discovered there were strangers. They applauded.

Emmett offered a consoling half-smile. "I'm sorry, Hannah. We," gesturing to the company, "could not help but savor the performance."

Feeling slightly foolish, Hannah gathered some dignity and rose to meet them. One was very tall and sported a neat mustache. His expression was full of clear admiration, she minded with pleasure. She liked the overall look of him, for he seemed open and optimistic.

His companion was of slightly dark complexion and, though Hannah did not credit herself as an excellent judge on the matter, she thought him exceptionally dashing. He had expressive eyes and a well-placed, prominent nosed. She liked him very much, perhaps more so than the first. After all, she was partial to such a nose.

Emmett introduced them as Arthur Kearns and Robert Browning. They both bowed admirably and exclaimed pleasure on meeting her as she applied a curtsey.

"These are chums of mine from the University, cousin." Emmett offered.

"London University?"

"Yes." Arthur sighed. "We met in Greek class several months ago. I believe this friendship is the only thing I will recall getting out of it, I'm sure."

Robert looked at him and teasingly said, "Perhaps if you'd pay attention more and daydream less, the work would seem easier and more pleasurable."

Arthur looked on in mock disgust, "You are unfair. You do much more daydreaming than is healthful for a youth. Plus, you have had the advantage. You've been learning Greek all your life. Don't lecture me, please."

Hannah liked the playful banter. They seemed to be very good young men and she looked forward to getting to know each better. They soon had her talking about home and Somersetshire. They talked of London and increased her desire to see the sights.

When a pause was served Arthur took it to approach Hannah, "Miss Romsen?"

"Yes, Mr. Kearns?"

He looked hopeful, "Do you plan to attend the Plaudin's ball on Thursday? Robert and I will be there. It would be a pity that you should miss it and especially now that you have some acquaintances here."

Feeling a comforting security, knowing that this increased her chances of being asked to dance, she gave him a glad smile. "I would hardly forgive myself if I did not go. It seems all that Emily and I talk of. It shall be my first official event at London and I am looking forward to it with great anticipation."

"I'm very glad to hear it. Would you consider me beastly if I were to ask you to reserve me the first two dances?"

She felt her heart rejoice, "How kind. You may be sure that I will."

"Well," Young Mr. Browning cut in with a look at Arthur, "if you intend to claim her so well in advance, I must too. Will you save me one?"

Amused, she returned, "I would be delighted."

Emmett, growing tired of the display, jumped in to say, "Good, it's settled. Now men, if we don't want to be late for the lecture, we'd best set off."

They bid her farewell. When they had gone she returned to her practice. Forcing herself not to get sentimental and imagine their manners to be more than they were proved a challenge as she tripped her way through some Bach Interventions.