--Idylls of the King: The Marriage of Geraint. Line 355, Alfred Lord Tennyson
Having arranged her hair in a pleasing manner that she thought would befit the wife of Sir Graham’s grandnephew, Eloisa hurried down the stairs to join her aunt in the sitting room, where she would soon commence a reading from the Bible. Mrs. Cassidy, however, having needled the news out of her nephew before he left on his errand, wished to discuss matters other than religion. "He should be there by now, I imagine," she began. "Yes, I imagine so." Mrs. Cassidy smoothed her skirts needlessly. "I hope she realizes the wisdom of the choice," she hedged, pursing her lips. Eloisa was confused by her aunt’s comment. "Why should she not? He is handsome, kind, and has done and seen so many things. He is certainly worth more than she is." "Well, the young Dawson boy pays her much attention; she might be fool enough to think that he shall inherit his great-uncle’s fortune. Your brother, however, is a sure thing: he has a promising career with the army." "But Auntie Portland’s children will inherit Sir Graham’s fortune!"
By chance, in a small neighborhood such as Baconfield, even the more humble families were commonly connected to the greater ones. In the case of Sir Graham’s family and the Cassidys, Sir Graham’s elder sister had one son. It happened that never having married himself, Peter Portland proved to be the nearest male relation that Sir Graham had until Andrew was born some twenty-eight years later. By that time, Sir Graham had already designated Peter Portland as his heir, even though he had little contact with his sister Eleanor or her son since her marriage to Mr. Portland, who was a barrister in London. The Portlands became tied to the Cassidys through the marriage of Mrs. Cassidy and Mary Cassidy’s younger sister, Deirdre, to Peter Portland. It was a collective selfish hope of the Cassidys that Mr. Portland would inherit sooner, rather than later, as they would all materially improve socially and possibly even economically, should Mr. Portland bring his wife and children to the Baconfield neighborhood to inhabit Sir Graham’s estate as the new peer of the district. As it was, he was following in his father’s profession with only enough prosperity to share with his immediate family.
Armed with this knowledge, in addition to Eloisa’s general belief that her brother was superior to any other young man in England, she felt as if her aunt’s anxiety concerning Julia’s acceptance was merely a reflection of her aunt’s generally dire outlook. So, when she heard the back door open and the echo of her brother’s boots in the back hall, she eagerly awaited his appearance in the parlor to announce his success. When some minutes had passed, and it was clear he was not coming to join them, Eloisa looked to her aunt for some hint as to what she should do. Her aunt merely raised her eyebrows as if to say--it is as I thought!
***
Emily sat with her brother in the library, carefully pouring over her list of charities that she had taken up again for both herself and her great-uncle. She was unsure as to why her brother had paid her this early morning visit, especially since he had sat in silence looking out the window ever since he arrived. As she came to the listing for the new hospital, she paused for a moment and drew a light line underneath Dr. Ploughman’s name: he had mentioned to her yet again the need for another doctor to assist at the sanatorium, and she was toying with the idea of writing to Dr. Fairmont with the information that such a position was open. She might, due to proximity, be able to do something for both Dr. Fairmont and his young charge, where as she presently felt incapable of doing anything much with for them being so far removed as Brighton.
Her brother’s clearing of his throat broke her reverie, and Emily put down her pencil, seeing that he appeared as if he was ready to break his silence. "I know what it is everyone is whispering about, Emily. I may not be as well read and studious as you, but I am not dense." His statement threw Emily, knowing nothing of what he spoke, or having heard any such whispers. "I’m afraid you will need to be plainer with me, Andrew: it is I, who am the dense one, it would seem." Andrew stood and began ranging the room. "What a fool everyone must think me." Her brother was succeeding in making her nervous, a condition she had lately avoided, seeing as she had gotten some degree of independence. "Who would think such a thing?" she asked in her sisterly tone of affection. "The whole neighborhood: the Munsons, the Cassidys, even our great uncle, I wouldn’t doubt," he said, voice rising as he came to lean over the desk at which Emily sat. "For shame, Andrew. Why should you doubt the Munsons or our dear great uncle’s love for you?" Now she began to think her brother might be somewhat mad.
Andrew turned his back to his sister. "Then you truly know nothing of this?" he asked. "I am completely in the dark." "Then at least I might pretend that you would have been forthright with me, should you have known." "I keep no secrets from you, Andrew. Please sit down. Shall I fetch something for you to drink? Some wine? Water, perhaps?" Andrew obediently sat down, but refused any drink, holding up his hand before putting his face in it. "Tell me from the beginning, dearest," Emily pleaded, coming around from behind the desk to sit next to her visibly disturbed brother.
"I went to sit with the Munsons yesterday afternoon and brought an invitation from Sir Graham to dine with us that evening, but I was not well received. Aunt Munson said little. Elizabeth looked as if she had been crying and would not look me in the face. Only Catherine played as usual. Julia, I was told, was indisposed, and she would not come down, nor was I allowed to go to her and wish her better." Andrew looked as if there was more to say, and Emily had to place her hand over his to urge him to take up his narrative once more. "Lt. Cassidy, I have it on good authority, had been there earlier in the day and paid his addresses to Julia."
Emily took back her hand, so as to cover her heart, which had begun to race. If her dearest relation was about to tell her that their cousin had agreed to marry another, she feared that she would not be able to hold back tears. She might have ruined her own hopes for marital bliss in marrying Mr. Langley, but she could not bear the thought of Andrew’s hopes being dashed as well. After some minutes pause, both being unable to look at the other, Andrew spoke once more, this time in a more modulated tone.
"Everyone thinks me a loafer, and I suppose that is what I have been. I have placed my hopes in Sir Graham’s hands, thinking that I was born to be a gentleman, being not much good at anything in particular, other than a life of leisure. I should have worked harder in school, and I should have gone to the university, but it is too late for that now. As it is, I am so far behind that I could never succeed in any profession." Emily would have stopped him and protested, but she wanted him to finish with his story, as she was still unsure as to the resolution of the drama.
"Who is Lt. Cassidy to Julia? I don’t believe he knows how best to make her happy. I have spent the past ten years learning just that." Emily had never heard her brother verbalize his feelings for Julia, even though she had suspected them for some time. "I agree, Andrew. Please tell me then that she did not accept his offer," Emily said, all color drained from her face. "She did not answer at that time, but she also did not answer in negative." Emily felt some relief, at least, at this news. "Then, something can be done. Who told you all of this news?" Emily questioned. "Elizabeth came to me last night. I could not bear begging her to her speak on my behalf, though, Emily, as much as I wished to do so." "Perhaps that is unnecessary. Julia is a good girl, Andrew. I assume you have not spoken to her in romantic terms?" Andrew shifted in his chair. "No, I have nothing to offer her, sister. I could not, and will not, come to Julia without something to offer her. She would be assigned to poverty, if she married me as things are now." It had not occurred to Emily that her brother was prevented from marrying Julia due to his economic dependence on Sir Graham. Summoning up her inner strength and belief in the goodness of her family, Emily set her jaw, and informed Andrew that she was sure everything would be put right.
--Meditations. x. 38, Marcus Aurelius
Sir Graham was alone when she was led into the winter parlor, and Emily could perceive his look of duress at her approach. Sir Graham, used to having dealt with his grandniece for a decade now, was familiar with the look of determination she wore whenever one of her plans was churning in her head, and although he was not clear as to what form this one would take, he feared it would involve much effort and some cost to himself. He wished that Andrew had not already retired for the evening, as he could sometimes be looked to as a buffer for Emily’s pointed comments, questions, and demands.
"I hope you’re well, sir," Emily said as she sat down, folding her hands in her lap. "Well, enough," Sir Graham grumbled. "I have come for a specific reason, I’m afraid, and I shan’t bother to pretend that I haven’t. It concerns something of a somewhat sensitive nature." Emily detested discussing money, but there was no way around it. Sir Graham sighed audibly and said nothing, waiting instead for his grandniece to begin her harangue. "I assume you’ve heard of Lt. Cassidy making an offer to Julia." This was not the discussion that Sir Graham had anticipated, and it seemed as if it might not be as painful as he imagined.
"Well, your aunt did come to speak to me about it. I understood she had not yet given an answer, however. Women are always the same, no matter how much time passes: indecisive." Emily sighed, but decided not to protest. "Are you aware of the reason Julia considers Lt. Cassidy’s offers at all? I do not believe that she fancies him." Sir Graham was in one way similar to his grandniece: he was somewhat oblivious to what a the pressing concern money was to the majority of the world. Before her great uncle had a chance to answer, Emily pressed on. "She looks elsewhere for monetary stability, because she cannot count on it from our Andrew. No one knows where Andrew will be in ten years. And for that matter, Auntie Munson does not know where her family shall be in ten years."
Emily paused, since she could see that Sir Graham was shocked by her forthright speech: more shocked than he usually was by her plans and speeches. Just when she thought she would begin again, Sir Graham put his hand up to stop her. "Wait now, Emily. You have said one thing that quite confounds me: Andrew and Julia? I’ve never thought of them as anything but playfellows." Emily could not help but smile at her great uncle’s lack of perception. "They have meant much more to each other for quite some time now, sir."
Julia fit Sir Graham’s idea of what a young lady should be nearly perfectly, and the only thing that he would have changed about her would be her penchant to speak rather too much, but he attributed that to the fashion of the day. He also thought Andrew a model young man, and had never fretted much that he had not chosen to go to the university; he enjoyed his company, and Andrew never was around so much as to become a bother. Sitting there, considering the proper alliance of the Dawsons and Munsons, Sir Graham was quite pleased. They were already a very close family, and he saw it as the perfect solution to having it remain so until the end of his days.
"And why should Julia not marry Andrew then? She has some objection?" Sir Graham’s short flight of fancy had made him forget that Emily had spoken of money. "What, sir, would they live on, should they marry?" This seemed like a ridiculous question to Sir Graham. "If Andrew came to me, we could discuss these matters. It has nothing to do with you, though, I’m afraid." "Andrew would never come to you begging for assistance to marry, with all due respect, sir. And neither do I. I am sure you intend on doing the best by him, to the best of your ability, but until he knows that…or rather, until the Munsons know that, Julia might feel as though she should consider other prospects."
Emily had taken a calculated risk by approaching her great uncle on behalf of her brother: she knew the elderly gentleman hated to discuss his inheritance, as he probably intended on living forever. Therefore, there was a chance that Sir Graham would respond rather irritably to his grandniece’s questions. Sir Graham, however, never liked to be looked upon as miserly or ungenerous with his family, even though he spent little time thinking of providing for them. So, instead of raising his hand and ending all conversation regarding the future support of his grandnephew, Sir Graham quickly decided to act as if he had established generous intentions all along, which he had just failed to mention thus far.
"Well, Mrs. Munson might rest easy, Emily dear. If anyone had simply inquired, I could have assured them that Andrew would be taken care of." Emily smiled and stood to come kiss her great-uncle on the cheek. "I thought as much, sir." Sir Graham, rather unemotional and unused to being petted, cleared his throat and quickly asked his grandniece one last question. "How can we be sure that your foolish cousin won’t accept the young Cassidy’s offer?" "Oh, there isn’t much danger of that, sir. I’ll go myself to the Munsons on my way home." Emily now had only to go to the Munsons with her happy news, although she would have to disguise it as just friendly familial gossip.
--Works. Book iv. Chap. xlviii., François Rabelais
Her guests had already been with her for two days when Tintrup came running into the breakfast room, where Emily was taking her morning meal alone. She was quickly followed by Mrs. Munson, who was so red in the face that upon seeing her, Emily feared that her aunt was close to fainting. "I tried to announce her, Mrs. Langley," Tintrup began to explain, but Emily waved her off.
"Auntie, please sit down. You do not look well," Emily said, as she stood and pulled back a chair for Mrs. Munson. "Is it no wonder?" Mrs. Munson fumed. Emily now saw that her aunt was angry and not somehow ill. She sat back down, not quite as eager to help any longer. Mrs. Munson fitfully pulled at the ribbons on her bonnet, and in her anger she was having trouble making her fingers work. Finally succeeding, Mrs. Munson tossed the bonnet on the table and sat in the chair with a loud thump.
"You have done wrong," she said between huffs. "And I suppose you are going to tell me how I have done so," Emily said, pursing her lips and folding her napkin. "I said you were to have a lady companion and within a few weeks you have relinquished her services, and it leaves you completely open to this sort of thing. Without a husband, you must, being such a tender age, apply to your male relatives for permission to invite men into your household," Mrs. Munson said in a heated whisper, leaning towards her niece as she did so. "I never thought the daughter of my dear upright sister could behave so!" "Auntie that is quite enough, thank you."
"No, no, I must have my say! When your brother learns of this, God knows what he shall do! He might come here and turn out this…this…" "Dr. Fairmont is family, and he brings his cousin, Miss Fairmont, whom I have very much wished to become acquainted with for some time now. If Andrew were to come here and make a scene, he would be wrong to do so. I saw no need to seek his, nor anyone else’s approval in this matter."
Mrs. Munson was almost shocked into silence at this admission from her niece: she had hoped that when she had chastised Emily that her niece would immediately feel the due shame of the situation. On the way to the Langley estate, Mrs. Munson had pictured her niece in tears and possibly thanking her for looking out for her, since her mother was incapable of doing so. In Mrs. Munson’s youth, she had not been what you would call a scholar, but she had been an avid reader of novels written for girls that were romantic to a fault. Her private caprices were still tinged with this romantic vein, and since her life seldom stood up against these fancies, she was continually disappointed.
"I am appalled. No one knows a single thing about this Dr. Fairmont," Mrs. Munson said loudly, trying to rise above her disenchantment. "Hush! He might hear you, Auntie. I’ll have to ask you to lower your voice." Emily was beginning to grow seriously annoyed, and was trying to think of a way to ask her aunt to leave before her visitors heard the commotion. Mrs. Munson had one last arrow to shoot: "You would think that with your cousin’s wedding upon us, you would not bring dishonor on the family with an action like this." Emily sighed, exasperated. "Auntie, you come here and misuse my guests and misuse me with these accusations. I would never cast a shadow on Julia and Andrew’s wedding."
Emily stood, pushing her chair back as she did so. "If you would be so good as to give my regards to my cousins and my brother should you see him today, I would be very much obliged." Mrs. Munson raised her eyebrows, but feeling somewhat in awe of her niece’s obstinacy, she decided to get up and leave as a show of visible disgust, having no wish to remain any longer in her niece’s sight. She believed this demonstration restored something of her power in the situation, and she mumbled "unthankful headstrong girl" as she bustled from the room.
Emily sighed as her aunt left. She was now sure that her brother would soon hear of her guests, and would be perhaps as upset as Mrs. Munson had intimated he would be. Perhaps she had done wrong in not alerting her family to her visitors, but she had so longed for them that she had feared telling anyone of her plan. This being the case, Emily vowed not to let it tarnish the remaining time her guests would be with her. In the short time since they had arrived, Emily had quickly developed an affection for Miss Fairmont, which she felt was returned in full: it was just as she had hoped. And seeing the true devotion Dr. Fairmont demonstrated for his cousin only cemented her deep respect and fondness for him, as well. Emily was normally only prey to humanitarian fantasies, involving great improvements, while being completely unfamiliar with the more personal types of fantasies most of us entertain; in this case, she was quickly being swept away with the thought of having these two intelligent and thoughtful creatures as her closest neighbors and companions.
Having gone to sit in the parlor, engaging in these very fancies, she had quickly pushed aside her aunt’s visit. It was here that she was found by Dr. Fairmont. She was staring out the window at nothing in particular, and having her back nearly turned to the door, she did not see him enter. Dr. Fairmont was happy to find her thus alone: while he was pleased beyond words that his cousin had so quickly become affably attached to Mrs. Langley, he did wish to spend some time unaccompanied with her. Given the chance, however, he stood watching her, momentarily able to observe her without making Mrs. Langley nervous and aware of the attention.
The last time Dr. Fairmont had the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Langley, she had not appeared well and she had been cloaked in the black of mourning. While her delicate features and snowy skin had been set off rather strikingly in her mourning, Dr. Fairmont felt he could not look on her without thinking of his uncle, which gave him no joy. Therefore, when he had arrived some days past, he had been inwardly pleased to see her once more in her demure but feminine and more youthful dresses.
"Good morning, Mrs. Langley," he said, drawing her gaze. Emily’s face lit up as she turned to face him, Dr. Fairmont observed, and he hoped that this was visible proof of her affection for him. "You look well this morning," he said as he came to sit by her. Emily colored at the remark and not knowing quite how to respond, she sought to deflect the attention from herself. "Is Miss Fairmont awake?" "I believe that she will not be down for some time. We kept her awake quite late last night with our discussion of art. Miss Fairmont is still rather used to her school schedule of early to bed." "Oh, I hope we did not make her ill," Emily said concernedly. "No, she slept later than usual, and that is all the harm that was done." "I am afraid that I have always kept odd hours. Andrew and I never had much structure to our daily schooling, providing no reason to be up at any certain hour. And being much thrown in with adults at a young age, we would stay up much later than is healthy, I suppose."
Dr. Fairmont enjoyed listening to Mrs. Langley speak of herself, and he was forever thinking of ways to learn more about her past and her views on things, and this had been his aim in their discussion that had lasted into the morning hours. Emily, in turn, always full of strong ideals and views, without being aware of it, saw herself reflected in Dr. Fairmont: he listened carefully to the answers to the questions he posed, and he provided thoughtful responses to her own questions. He complimented her knowledge, and she complimented his.
