Old friends and new fancies

by Sybil G. Brinton

The ride duly took place on the following morning, and the circumstances caused Elizabeth much secret pleasure. Her husband hesitated to attach any importance to the friendship thus inaugurated, and did not care to consider the possibilities arising out of it, for the engagement between his sister and his cousin had been a scheme very near his heart, and when it failed he was so much disappointed that he could not give up the idea of Fitzwilliam's being disappointed too. It was difficult for him to imagine that a man who had lost Georgiana could console himself with another woman, however talented and charming. It therefore followed that Elizabeth was compelled to keep her satisfaction to herself, and being very anxious that nothing should be said to dispel it, she refrained from giving any account of her cousin when the carriages assembled before her aunt's door at eleven o'clock. With a warning glance at her husband, she replied to Lady Catherine's peremptory inquiries that Robert had an engagement that morning, but he would join them at dinner, coming over on horseback.

"An engagement!" repeated Lady Catherine haughtily. "I was not aware that any engagement could have a prior claim, when my party has been made up for some days. It is very annoying. The result is that you have an empty seat in your carriage; if we had known, Captain Tilney's gig would not have been wanted."

"Perhaps Captain Tilney would not mind giving poor little me a seat in his gig," suggested Miss Steele, who, since she saw that the honour of sharing a back seat with Colonel Fitzwilliam was denied her, had been revolving the next most advantageous plan in her mind. Captain Tilney, who was already in his gig, hoping that his destined companion had not yet appeared, looked round for a way of escape: but from Lady Catherine's generalship there was none, and she said, after a moment's consideration: "Very well, I suppose that must do. I had intended—but when people are so extremely ungrateful—I sent a note round last night to Mrs. Grant and Miss Crawford, Elizabeth, asking them to join us. They actually declined. It is not often that I go out of my way to take notice of strangers—"

"My dear aunt," interrupted Darcy, "had we not better start? We are collecting a crowd in the street. Miss Steele, may I help you into the gig? I suppose your sister and her husband will go with my aunt and Miss de Bourgh. Take care of the wheel. Tilney, your horse looks as if he were going to leave us all behind. Now, Mrs. Ferrars. It is a good thing we have a spare seat, you know, madam. Mr. Morland can take care of the baskets and the wraps. If you like, we can make different arrangement in coming home."

The carriages drove off, and Elizabeth, in the highest spirits, congratulated her husband on his disposal of the Steele faction. The party, however, was not destined to be so successfully divided for the whole day, and while they were all strolling about at Clifton, in the hour preceding diner, Elizabeth was taken possession of by her aunt, to listen to some severe strictures upon her management of the family affairs.

"I blame you exceedingly, Elizabeth, for not using your influence with Fitzwilliam. He ought to go about with the rest of us in an ordinary way, not wander off by himself, heaven knows where. That is not the way to teach him to forget that affair, which so unfortunately miscarried under your guidance."

"But, Aunt, we cannot control his movements as if he were a child. He naturally goes where he likes and makes his own friends."

"His own friends, yes, indeed! Desirable friends they must be, to cause him to break an engagement with his nearest relations. I think it is quite time that he were taken in hand by someone who cares as much for his welfare as I do. Even at his age a man cannot be trusted to know what is best for himself. I always thought no good would come of it when you and Darcy took so much pains to throw him and Georgiana together. Your own family's matrimonial affairs have always been conducted in such extraordinary lines—"

"We will leave my family out of the discussion, please, Aunt Catherine. I do assure you that the breaking of Georgiana's engagement was for the best in every way."

"Of course, I know you feel bound to defend your handiwork, and I am only too glad to think that my dear nephew has not suffered more than he has from the effects. Perhaps next time you will agree that he should be guided by the advice of those older and wiser than himself."