Old friends and new fancies

by Sybil G. Brinton

"Well, yes, I think so; not that I have ever troubled much about it, but on general principles, I think I always do things, or try to do them, either because I want to very much, or because it is a matter of professional duty."

"Then you are decidedly to be congratulated, Mr. Price," said Georgiana, smiling. "I should—I mean, most people would think themselves fortunate if they had two such burning lights to guide them. I suppose the way is so clear that you do not need to seek any further motives, as to why you want to do the thing so much, for instance?"

"Of course not," promptly replied William, "that would be looking back. How would one ever steer a ship, unless one kept one's eyes fixed on the course ahead? If you suspect there are rocks, you must avoid them, but it would be a waste of time wondering how you came to be where you are. You see that, too, do you not?"

"Yes, I see what you mean," replied Georgiana, "but I am afraid I have not learnt to steer my ship quite so well, or perhaps I have too many lights, and they are confusing."

William began to reply, but was interrupted by Kitty, tired of a conversation in which she had no share. "Mr. Price, do you know what you have done? refused the lobster sauce! What can you be thinking of? your turbot will not be half so nice without it!"

William made proper apologies to the bearer of the lobster sauce, who returned it at Kitty's summons, and she was pacified by Mr. Price's applying himself to his dinner, and entering heartily into a reminiscence of hers at a dinner-party at Mrs. Knightley's, when they had met for the first time, and when there had also—strange coincidence—been turbot for dinner.

Georgiana was glad to sit for a while in silent thought. Mr. Price's suggestion, that her life was governed by a distinct purpose, appeared sadly wide of the mark. Did not the mistakes she had made in the past show that she was merely drifting, lamentably weak, and having no sound judgment of her own? Whereas people like Kitty, who had given themselves up to the guidance of a definite aspiration, and Mr. Price, too, who had owned what lights he was steering by, would they not soon be in safe harbour? It seemed so, and Georgiana almost envied them of that delightful security, for of late she had allowed herself to wonder if such heights of happiness would ever be attainable by herself, and a longing had sometimes crept over her, since she had known and liked Mr. Price, that she might meet someone who could be to her what he was to Kitty.

Throughout the remainder of dinner she did not have any further conversation with William Price, though occasionally appealed to by one or other of them to give an opinion upon some point at issue, generally connected with the charades. With Mrs. Ferrars, who sat on her other side, she enjoyed a quiet little talk, and before they left the table Elinor inquired casually whether Mr. Bertram was nice—whether they had found him pleasant.

"Yes, I think so—I think we all like him very much," replied Georgiana, who until that moment had not formed any estimate of him. "He is very lively—and he has taken an immense deal of trouble about the charades—and Mr. Bingley, I know, considers him an excellent shot."

"That is quite an adequate description of him in a few words," said Elinor. "I wondered what you all thought of him, as I know you had not met before. He is not much like his cousin, is he?"