Old friends and new fancies

by Sybil G. Brinton

"Yes, he liked her very much, I think. You know, she played the harp, and he is so fond of anything to do with music."

"Yes, I know," said Georgiana; and added, in a low voice: "I remember he would always much rather have listened to my playing than have talked to me."

"Do not let yourself grieve, Georgiana," said Elizabeth, kissing the young girl's fair brow; "you know that Robert has the greatest possible regard for you, and you will find, next time you meet, that you are the best of friends."

Georgiana smiled rather sadly; she often felt that she must have not only fallen in the estimation of a cousin she revered, but that she must also be possessed of no qualities capable of inspiring affection, and what was even worse, of no heart of her own to give. Elizabeth understood her well, and tried often to give her more self-confidence and to raise her lowly opinion of herself; but though she was growing less reserved, and more disposed little by little to trust her own judgments, the old habits of timidity, of reliance on the guidance of those whom she loved, were still strong in her. Elizabeth would often refuse to decide a thing for her, but when she was helped to weigh it in the balance, to judge it by all the standards available, her choice could always be recommended for discretion and clear-sightedness.

The month of May was now nearly half-way through, and the time was approaching when James Morland was expected to pay a visit to his friends at Pemberley. So much of their stay at Bath had been productive of disappointment, that they looked back upon their acquaintance with this young man as its one circumstance of unalloyed pleasure. Darcy, whose regard for him had grown very warm, had received letters from home which enabled him, prior to leaving Bath, to inform Morland that a living in his gift would shortly be vacant, and that he would have the pleasure in offering it to Morland when the time came. This important communication had been received by the young clergyman with a depth of joy and gratitude which had increased the Darcys' satisfaction in being able to assist him. The living, though not a rich one, would suffice for his needs, as he possessed some capital advanced by his father: and its situation, in a hilly and bracing country district, made it most desirable for a person whose health, like his own, had to be considered. The conversation between himself and Darcy, which had been very short, had taken place only the day before the latter's departure, and Morland, still scarcely realizing his good fortune, had hurried round to the hotel the following morning to repeat his acknowledgments to both his friends and to make his adieux. There was time only for a very few words to be exchanged at the house door, and Morland found it difficult to express himself fluently on a subject which lay so near his heart, but Elizabeth and her husband set him at his ease with a few kind remarks, repeating cordially an invitation already given, that he come and stay with them on the conclusion of his visit to the Portinscales. Since their return home the resignation of the old Rector at Kympton, the living in question, had been made public. He was to leave within a few weeks; so that Morland's visit would afford him, as the rector-designate, an opportunity of getting to know the place and of meeting some of his future parishioners. Pemberley was not in the parish, for Kympton was eighteen miles away, but the link between the two places had always been strong, and the distance was frequently bridged, for Desborough Park, the home of the Bingleys, was the principal house in Kympton Parish, and only a mile and a half from the parsonage house. Morland's pleasure was extreme on hearing that his nearest neighbours would be the brother-in-law and favourite sister of Mrs. Darcy. Next to being within a stone's throw of the Darcys themselves, it was the best thing imaginable.

Morland arrived at Pemberley late one afternoon, just in time to prepare for dinner, and was introduced to Miss Darcy when they all assembled in the drawing-room before the meal. Georgiana's intense shyness generally caused her to appear at a disadvantage with strangers, but there was something in the young man's open countenance and pleasing, unaffected manners that attracted everyone to him at first sight, and they were soon chatting together completely at their ease. Morland was deeply interested in everything that he could learn of his future home, and asked eager questions of his hosts. Georgiana had been so lately staying at Desborough, and had, while there, so frequently called on old Dr. and Mrs. Taylor, that she was able to give more particulars of the house and garden than her brother and sister were able to recollect. The evening passed quickly away with conversation and music, and Morland learned that on the following morning the whole party were to drive over to Desborough Park to dinner, starting early that they might have time to walk through the village and inspect the church and parsonage as well.

The weather proved propitious, and the drive, through some of the most beautiful vales of Derbyshire, was agreeable to all, but especially delightful to Morland, feeling as he did that he was within reach of the goal he had so long desired—restored health and the power to do the work he loved amid congenial surroundings. It was in vain that Darcy, not wishing to raise his hopes too high, told him that the parish was very scattered and the roads bad, that the climate was exceedingly cold and the distant cottages were almost inaccessible in stormy weather, that some of the farmers were people of a very independent way of thinking, difficult to get on with—he could discover no drawback, only fresh incentives to throw himself into his task. Elizabeth commended him for his enthusiasm, but added a sly reminder that he might be disappointed in the house; large, rambling and picturesque though it may seem when tenanted by the Taylors and their seven children, it would, she feared, be an inconvenient residence to a bachelor.

"It will be too big, I have no doubt," responded Morland, "but, you know, I need not furnish more than a part of it. Besides, I intend, as soon as I am thoroughly settled to have my sister Sarah to stay with me if she can be spared from home."

Georgiana was interested in hearing of the sister, and James Morland at her request gave an account of his home at Fullerton, and of his brother and sisters, eight besides himself and Catherine, who was now Mrs. Henry Tilney. Catherine was evidently the favourite—there was a smile and a lightening of the eye when he spoke of her—he wished it had been possible for her to come and help him with his settling-in, but they lived such a great distance away—Woodston was forty miles away from Bath, quite at the other end of Somerset.

Mr. Darcy's chaise and four rolled through the village of Kympton not long after twelve o'clock, and paused to put down its owner, his sister and his young guest. There was so much to see, but Georgiana was an untiring walker, and intended staying with the gentlemen until the carriage should be sent back to bring them to Desborough in time for an early dinner. Elizabeth drove on for another two miles, and was presently alighting at the door of a handsome modern house built in the Italian style, and being warmly welcomed by Bingley and Jane, whom she had not seen for some weeks.