[ The afternoon should be spent the way Mary always spends it: reading, playing the pianoforte, keeping her mother company in the drawing room, and perhaps engaging in some sort of busywork. But with Mr. Cartwright in residence, everything is in disorder. Once she's collected herself, she visits her mother in her apartment. It is too small for a separate sitting room, so her mother lies on a chaise lounge acting as though this will be the death of her. Unsure how to aid her mother, Mary merely sits on the window seat for half an hour as Mrs. Bennet goes on and on, repeating phrases about that man over and over. Mary knows from past experience that trying to soothe her mother or talk sense into her doesn't work. Her mother wants to be vexed, and vexed she shall be. Her thoughts drift to the man downstairs and she hopes he is sleeping now. If he won't allow a doctor to examine him, then rest must be the next best thing.
After enduring all of her mother that she can, she returns to her own room, but there is a restlessness clinging to her that she cannot shake. Unable to focus on reading, she contemplates playing the pianoforte that takes up a good deal of her room but knowing how the sound carries through the house she decides not to disturb their guest. She attempts embroidery and pricks her fingers a half dozen times from being distracted. How the rest of the afternoon progresses she can't say because none of it achieved anything worthwhile and soon enough the maid is helping her dress for dinner.
The Bennet dinner table is not always so empty. Even with three daughters married and one often staying up north, Mrs. Bennet enjoys throwing dinner parties for her neighbors. However, with the fair going on few families are hosting such an event so the Bennets have neither invited anyone nor been invited to dine out. Mary takes her place on her father's right at a lonely chair in the middle of that side of the table. As usually, her father is seated sideways with legs crossed, holding a book aloft as he reads. "It shall be a quiet dinner tonight, child, with your mother abstaining," he observes to her with a light tone. ]
Yes, papa. I suppose I should have Hill take her up something?
[ "If you would like," is his airy response. Mary goes to relay those instructions and returns to the table just as Mr. Cartwright comes in. Her eyes immediately move over him and what he's wearing, and she feels a bit sorry that they could do no better for him. Resuming her seat, she looks to her father for guidance, but naturally there is none. If Lizzie were here, this is where he would turn towards her and make a sly joke at their guest's appearance and Lizzie would immediately add a clever comment. But it is not so when it is only Mary at home. ]
No apology is needed. I was leaving instructions for the housekeeper and so we have not yet begun. How are you feeling, sir? I hope that a few hours rest has began the mending process.
no subject
After enduring all of her mother that she can, she returns to her own room, but there is a restlessness clinging to her that she cannot shake. Unable to focus on reading, she contemplates playing the pianoforte that takes up a good deal of her room but knowing how the sound carries through the house she decides not to disturb their guest. She attempts embroidery and pricks her fingers a half dozen times from being distracted. How the rest of the afternoon progresses she can't say because none of it achieved anything worthwhile and soon enough the maid is helping her dress for dinner.
The Bennet dinner table is not always so empty. Even with three daughters married and one often staying up north, Mrs. Bennet enjoys throwing dinner parties for her neighbors. However, with the fair going on few families are hosting such an event so the Bennets have neither invited anyone nor been invited to dine out. Mary takes her place on her father's right at a lonely chair in the middle of that side of the table. As usually, her father is seated sideways with legs crossed, holding a book aloft as he reads. "It shall be a quiet dinner tonight, child, with your mother abstaining," he observes to her with a light tone. ]
Yes, papa. I suppose I should have Hill take her up something?
[ "If you would like," is his airy response. Mary goes to relay those instructions and returns to the table just as Mr. Cartwright comes in. Her eyes immediately move over him and what he's wearing, and she feels a bit sorry that they could do no better for him. Resuming her seat, she looks to her father for guidance, but naturally there is none. If Lizzie were here, this is where he would turn towards her and make a sly joke at their guest's appearance and Lizzie would immediately add a clever comment. But it is not so when it is only Mary at home. ]
No apology is needed. I was leaving instructions for the housekeeper and so we have not yet begun. How are you feeling, sir? I hope that a few hours rest has began the mending process.