--Sir Philip Sidney, Defence of Poesy.
As the hour grew later, she concluded that her hurried departure the previous day had left Dr. Fairmont in doubt of her actually desiring an interview with her. She had told her great-uncle’s manservant to watch for visitors and to immediately announce anyone who approached, but no one had even passed through this corridor in the house for the past two hours. Contemplating this possibility, she stared somewhat absently out the window at the blue sky, when Dr. Fairmont came striding past, swinging his cane ahead of him, hitting the bushes lining the walkway as he did.
She stood, feeling somewhat lightheaded as she did, and hurried to the window, leaning on the window jam. Why was Miss Fairmont not at his side? All morning she had fretted over what to say to Dr. Fairmont, if he should come, and now that he was close to entering her home, she feared that she would be incapable of uttering a single planned word. And now there would be no young lady with whom to chatter with, if she lost her nerve and could not face Dr. Fairmont. When a servant came to announce Dr. Fairmont’s arrival, Emily had seated herself once more with her hands folded in her lap, so as to give the appearance of composure.
"Mrs. Langley, forgive me for coming somewhat late: I left Miss Fairmont at Mrs. Cassidy’s, and it took me longer to get away than I had planned." Emily had stood, during this short soliloquy and given Dr. Fairmont her hand. "I’m sorry that you didn’t bring Miss Fairmont," she said, arranging herself on the sofa and gesturing for him to join her. "You seemed somewhat distressed, yesterday, and I thought that perhaps a private interview would be better." Emily knew not how to respond, and after a short pause, Dr. Fairmont continued with a gentle smile, "although I hope this does not mean that sometime in the near future you might not become well acquainted with my cousin."
Emily stood and began to restlessly walk around the room, picking up knick-knacks as she did. Dr. Fairmont watched her every movement from his place on the sofa, tapping his cane on his shoe and waiting for Mrs. Langley to compose herself. Finally, Emily turned to face him, hands at her sides, and felt that to rush into what she had to say would be the only way. "Dr. Fairmont, I must beg your forgiveness for having not sent word of the funeral. You had more claim to be there than I, but I felt that it would be best to follow your uncle’s wishes in that matter. I found…I found instructions for his service…and, well, I assume you understand, since you were just as ill treated in his final instructions for his estate. I am so very sorry, Dr. Fairmont. I intend on doing the best I possibly can for you and Miss Fairmont."
Dr. Fairmont, although he felt as if he should maintain a somber appearance, could not help but smile at the fountain of words that had just poured from this bit of perfection standing before him. "Nonsense, Mrs. Langley. Sicily and I are doing very well in Brighton. Besides, knowing what my uncle was like to live with, I know full well you deserved even more from him, if there had been more to give, after the patience and care you demonstrated." Emily blushed brightly and sat once more. "No, Dr. Fairmont, what Mr. Langley did was wrong. In our life together, I never spoke an ill word of him, but I feel fully justified in saying that by leaving you nothing, Mr. Langley did not show himself to be the good Christian that I thought him to be when I married him."
Dr. Fairmont was somewhat taken aback by this avowal, and as Mrs. Langley still appeared pale and worried, he did not wish for her to continue down this path of reflection. He reached over to put his hand over hers, and without saying a word spoke what was in his heart. Emily became embarrassed, and slowly pulled her hand away, diverting her gaze to some random point on the Oriental rug. "It’s all in the past, Mrs. Langley. From this point on, there won’t be my uncle to consider. His wishes have been made known and fulfilled, and we can go on from there. Hopefully, you will occasionally indulge me in a visit? Miss Fairmont has heard much of you, and I’m sure she would benefit from a friendship with you." "Oh, Dr. Fairmont, you flatter me. I’m sure your cousin is a lovely girl, and I would like nothing more than to have the chance to become more intimate with my husband’s family." Dr. Fairmont wished that she would refrain from mentioning the deceased, but he felt some joy in hearing her express the sentiment, nonetheless.
"You return to Brighton though…presently?" Emily asked distractedly. "Yes, there is a train leaving shortly. I can’t leave my patients for long on such short notice, I’m afraid." "Well, it doesn’t matter," Emily sighed. "If my aunt Munson knew that I was receiving visitors, even my husband’s family, she would be shocked, and I’m sure I would receive a stern lecture. One goes from child to wife and then wife to child so easily, it would seem. Yes, it’s better that I’m alone for awhile, I suppose." Dr. Fairmont stood and bowed. "Not for too long, I hope, Mrs. Langley. Do take care." And with that, he was gone, and Emily was left to herself.
A wave o’ the sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that.
--William Shakespeare, The Winter’s Tale. Act iv. Sc. 4.
Mrs. Munson had just walked in on the conversation, having little patience for being alone while gossip might be going on elsewhere in her house. "You need not speak like that, Emily. You’re too young a lady to say such preposterous things," she said, taking the dress from Julia. "Besides," she continued to lecture, "it being the holidays, I’m sure no one will consider it amiss, if you put away your mourning habit. Now is as good a time as any." Emily sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling as she did so. "Thank you, Auntie, for your advice, but I think it’s best to follow my heart in this case." Mrs. Munson raised her eyebrows, and handing the dress back to Julia, quickly exited the room.
"You only wish me to take some of your beaux away, so that you can spend the whole night with my brother," Emily teased. "Andrew?" Julia said laughing. "You can’t be serious. You and Elizabeth should stop conspiring against me." "Oh, so she agrees, does she?" Emily prodded with a smile. "Well, I hope you say no such things to him." "And why is that?" "Because Andrew and I simply can’t be. There is no ‘we’ beyond his being my cousin." Emily watched her cousin holding the dress before her own image in the mirror, turning slightly one way and then another. "Now, you can’t be serious. I haven’t spoken with Andrew. No, he and I don’t really ever speak seriously. But, it seems to me that you are both very fond of each other…to say the least, Julia." Her usually flirtatious and superficial cousin suddenly appeared unsettled. "I’ll be downstairs," she said, throwing the dress in a chair and hurrying from the room.
This little exchange did much to worry Emily: she felt in her heart that Andrew loved Julia, and she could not imagine why her cousin would feel as if they could not be together. Emily was always unconcerned with social and monetary issues, so it did not occur to her that perhaps Julia might consider Andrew’s lack of capital as an obstacle. If she had felt closer to her great uncle, she would have approached him on the subject, but as it was, she doubted he had noticed Andrew’s partiality. All she could do was hope that Julia’s comment was only made in an attempt to hide her own partiality that she was perhaps not willing to share with anyone before Andrew had expressed his own. Pausing on the threshold, Emily considered one last thing before taking the handrail and joining her family in the sitting room below: from now on she would be merely an observer in other people’s relationships, as she had already had her one relationship and it was over so quickly that sometimes it seemed to her and her family as if she had never been married at all.
***
Lt. Cassidy was once more home for the holidays, and accompanied his sister to the dance of which was much spoken of in the Munson household. Eloisa was delighted to have her brother as a chaperon, instead of her aging aunt, who was always eager to leave after she had heard the latest gossip and viewed everyone’s dresses. More than one Baconfield young lady was glad to see Lt. Cassidy as well, as he was handsome in his regimentals and expanded their somewhat small and unvaried selection of gentlemen from which to dance with and potentially marry.
Everyone, however, was not pleased with his attendance: Andrew, for one, remembered his previous visit and dreaded Lt. Cassidy taking all of his cousins’ attention and monopolizing them all night with dances. Immediately vexed, Andrew pulled his sister aside as soon as he spotted the other young man from across the room. "He would have to be here." "He has as much right as we do, Andrew, dear." "Perhaps, but he’ll spend all evening dancing with Julia and Elizabeth. Who then shall I dance with?" "There are the…" Emily began to list other young ladies with whom her brother might dance with, when Elizabeth came over to join them, and she was forced to break off.
"Elizabeth, dearest, you look beautiful," Andrew said bowing. Elizabeth blushed, being unused to being the center of attention, having spent her life playing second to her older and more showy sister. Seeing as her cousin was unable to speak, Emily took Elizabeth’s hand, and put it into her brother’s. "Do dance with our Andrew before I have to listen to him complain about a lack of eligible partners much longer." And with that, Emily was left to her thoughts, as no one would bother her to dance while she continued to wear her mourning habit.
Emily had always claimed to think little of parties, dancing, and merriment, but truly, although she was studious and philanthropically minded, there was seldom a pretty girl that did not enjoy parties, especially during the holidays. Sitting with the other dowagers present, however, Emily felt decidedly out of place. Her first party not only since her husband’s death, but since her marriage, was beginning to bring a dark cloud over her head, and she was only too eager to agree to leave when Andrew had become disgruntled watching Lt. Cassidy dance all evening with Miss Munson.
Handing his sister into the carriage, Andrew knocked invisible dust off of his hat. "It is just as I knew it would be. You would think he would have better taste than to dance with Cousin Julia all evening." "There were other ladies without partners," Emily acquiesced. "Yes, there were. I dare say Julia was sick of all his stories this time around. They cannot be much different than the last heroic set." In the darkness, Emily smiled indulgently at her brother. She had once found it necessary to scold him in an attempt to mold him into something better than a leisure loving man of the hunt, but lately she had considered him beyond improvement, and had decided to merely enjoy his company as such. "It was all very maddening," he said with a sigh, as the carriage jerked forward.
They had nearly reached the entrance to Sir Graham’s estate, when Andrew began again. "And then there was the aggravation of watching you sitting with all those hens. Sitting there in that dreadful black, looking as if you were never going to have another moment of joy in your life. You cannot get all your pleasure from books, Emily. You will, at some point, have to take off that mourning and join the rest of us." Andrew did not usually say so very much all at once, and Emily was somewhat stunned: she was used to being lectured by her aunt about some things, her cousins about others, but Andrew usually expressed his displeasure rather succinctly and rarely at that. Lately, however, he had been making increasingly more comments regarding her mourning and her social life or lack of one. She was also increasingly unsatisfied, and she thoughtfully reflected that perhaps her brother’s displeasure might be used to help her angle for what she wanted.
But thought’s a weapon stronger;
We’ll win our battles by its aid,
Wait a little longer.”
--Charles Mackay, The good Time coming.
Andrew pushed his chair back. "Wait, wait, what is this?" "I’m moving back into Mr. Langley’s estate. I won’t be crowding you and Sir Graham any longer." "Your Aunt Munson won’t like it," Sir Graham said nervously. "I don’t see how we need to include Auntie in this decision. My mind is made up." These words made Sir Graham go cold: never before had he convinced his grandniece of anything once her mind was already fixed. Andrew looked as though he was about to say something, so Emily continued in order to prevent it. "I thought perhaps that I might have more visitors if I had my own household, and it would present a good opportunity to end my mourning." As soon as she saw the look of relief pass over her brother’s face, she knew that she had won him over to her cause. She smiled across the table at him. Perhaps, she thought with some amusement, Andrew dreaded her becoming the widowed sister and aunt in his household, as much as she did.
"Who will tell your aunt?" Sir Graham asked quietly. "Can we not send her a note once I’m established there?" Emily queried with a charming smile. Sir Graham was almost roused from his fear by her lighthearted comment, but the momentary pleasure passed away quickly enough when he remembered that his niece had promised to bring the girls for a visit in the afternoon. "If it should come up this afternoon," he said pushing away his plate, which was picked up by the servant standing quietly in the corner, "then I shall not argue your point, Emily. You are on your own." Andrew stood, tossing his napkin down on the table. "I shall take your part," he asserted, coming to kiss her cheek before striding from the room.
***
"Oh heavens no!" Mrs. Munson said, beginning to fan herself, the very thought of her niece living alone at such a young age apparently having turned the air into something unbearable to breathe. Julia perked up at the thought, and immediately realized this would provide an amusing opportunity to contradict her mother. "I think it will be grand! You can make the place into just what you like now without anyone else to please. There is plenty of possibility in the house. I would start with the entry hall, as it is far too dark. Don’t you think, Andrew?" "Well, I don’t know about the house, but I do think Emily should live in the estate that is rightfully hers. She certainly earned it." Julia disregarded Andrew’s comments, and continued on with her wistful commentary. "We can visit," she said, reaching over to tap her youngest sister’s shoulder, who was sitting on the ground sketching the window, "and I will help with picking out patterns. I’m very good at picking out patterns. Aren’t I, Mama?"
Mrs. Munson was torn between disagreeing with the notion behind the need for picking patterns and praising her favorite daughter. The ensuing confusion provided Emily with a moment in which to continue speaking about her plan as if it was already settled. "I will be within walking distance of the church, so I can continue with my charitable deeds, which are most important to me. And I would not stay alone: I shall have a companion and a manservant."
There was a sizable audience to observe this dispute. Andrew, who might normally have gone out riding, having already visited the Munsons in the morning after breakfast, decided to stay in, so as to watch the fireworks. No one enjoyed watching Mrs. Munson squirm more than Andrew; and this was quite a claim, considering that his favorite cousin, Julia, despite being the most beloved of daughters, also made it a favorite pastime to plague her mother, while all the while getting everything that she desired. The only member of the immediate family missing, disregarding the recurrently missing Mr. Munson, was Sir Graham, who feared his niece’s nervous wrath: therefore, he had excused himself to his study as quickly as he could after the Munsons had arrived after lunch.
Mrs. Munson’s jaw was working, but nothing was coming out. She knew how stubborn her niece could be, and she was judging whether it was best to continue opposing the plan or to bend it to her specifications as a compromise. She settled on the latter. "Who do you intend on having as a companion?" she asked disagreeably. "Tintrup: Mr. Langley’s former servant. She has been living with her mother since I removed from Mr. Langley’s estate." "That won’t do," she said, setting her fan down with as much emphasis as possible. "I shall speak with Mrs. Morgan, tomorrow, as she knows of a young lady companion, who has just left her previous employer; perhaps she is still unengaged. Tintrup might be your servant, but you need a proper lady companion." Emily smiled back at her aunt: this was an arrangement with which she could live.
