--Commentaries. Jeremiah xx., Mathew Henry
Emily’s aunt had been correct when she guessed that Andrew would be angry at Emily’s decision to invite Dr. Fairmont to stay with her, but his solution had been to make almost a nuisance of himself. He brought Julia with him to visit on a daily visit, and continually invited them to dine at either Sir Graham’s or the Munsons, so that there would be some supervision of the unpleasant visit.
On one such visit, Andrew had taken Dr. Fairmont and Miss Fairmont to the stables to show them the new horse he had just bought at the fair and was keeping stabled at his sisters, since his great uncle was likely to think another horse too much work for his stable hand. He had urged Julia to speak to his sister about Dr. Fairmont. Julia was eager to please Andrew, and felt sure that if he thought something was amiss, he must be right. So, without having much skill at being indirect, she attempted to question her cousin on the young man.
"You all seem very happy here," she said with a smile. "We do make a happy trio," Emily said, pleased to be able to discuss her arrangement with someone who appeared to think it innocent. "Andrew and I were discussing it." Emily’s guard immediately was raised at these words. "My brother means well, but he does not see these things as I do," she said picking up the book next to her, so that she might end conversation if necessary. Emily felt that Julia was already beginning to defer to Andrew on all things, and she was somewhat disappointed in this development in her cousin. "He does mean well," Julia urged. "But, perhaps you are right, and he does not see things through unbiased eyes. As your cousin, you might speak to me as a woman, and tell me what is in your heart."
Emily was confused by Julia’s words. "I consult not my heart in this regard, Cousin," she said, as she put the book down once more. "Dr. Fairmont is family to me, and his cousin is very fair company, as I’m sure you have come to see." "Yes, she is delightful. If I was not so assured of Andrew’s affections, I could not stand to spend one more evening in her presence," she said with a slight laugh. "Then there is no need to make mention of the unreliable heart," Emily said with scorn. "We must have misunderstood," Julia said, somewhat chastened. "We…Andrew and I had both perceived an attachment present, at least on one side." "Oh, well, I am not one to gossip, but I think there surely is," Emily allowed.
Now Julia was thoroughly confused. She could only sit and look at her cousin. "She is so lovely, as you allow, and he is ever so attentive," Emily said, reaching for the tea and offering to refill her cousin’s cup. "Miss Fairmont and Dr. Fairmont?" Julia asked quietly. "I assume that Dr. Fairmont is slow to declare his feelings, because of the particular position he has been placed in, as her guardian," Emily said, pouring and looking over her cup. "Indeed, do you think?" Julia managed, after some time to collect herself. "Oh, yes, I am certain."
When the men and Miss Fairmont returned and it was time for Andrew to accompany Julia home, Julia had much to share. They walked arm in arm away from the house, and as soon as they were safely out of earshot, Julia turned to Andrew. "I must confess that your sister’s comments were very odd." Andrew shook his head. "She does not see things as she should! I hope to convince her to hear nothing more from this man when he leaves." "No, you misunderstand me. She thinks that Dr. Fairmont has an attachment for his cousin, Miss Fairmont!" Julia said, stopping for a moment, herself still finding it so odd. "Surely Emily is not that blind." "I think perhaps she is. She seemed most happy about it as well, not at all…she did not seem disturbed that his heart might be fixed elsewhere."
Andrew swung his cane in front of him disrupting the gravel on the path. "Well, that at least is good news." Julia was relieved that Andrew was pleased with her information. "I had hoped you would feel that way. Cousin Emily means no harm, I am sure." "No, no she does not. But there is still the appearance of things. And while I know my sister to be a very good woman, she is also very stubborn, and I cannot trust him as I do her." Julia sighed. "I don’t know what could be done now though, Andrew." "Nor do I, although I think once we are married and established, there might be other options to explore."
Julia blushed, still thrilling at the notion of setting up house with Andrew. When Sir Graham had made his intentions of supplying Andrew with an income known, Mrs. Munson had immediately began to make inquiries into neighborhood situations for the young pair. There were a number of small houses somewhat further out that could be had, but all were in need of some repair. While Andrew wished to give Julia a lovely little house to furnish as she wished and begin a gentleman’s type household with perhaps one or two servants, once he sat down and looked at his funds and the cost that would be incurred immediately at making any of these homes livable, he feared that no such thing was within the realm of possibility.
He dreaded asking Julia to live with Sir Graham, for he knew she had already envisioned creating a space for herself, so it was only another bit of good luck when Sir Graham offered him yet another blessing. Andrew had not as of yet spoken of the generous offer to Julia or any of the Munsons, and even his sister was ignorant of the plan. He saw Julia’s face beaming under the sunlight, and he was filled with a wish to let her in on the good news.
"Shall I show you our house, Julia?" Andrew asked, pausing on the path to turn to her. Julia’s look changed to one of happy confusion. "Mama has not yet decided between the Hartford house and the Remington estate." "Neither of those would do, I don’t think," Andrew said with a smile, happy to be able to share the surprise. Julia was about to begin listing the other homes that they had crossed from their list earlier, but Andrew shook his head. "Would you not like to be somewhat closer to your sisters?" Julia could think of no homes that were unoccupied near her own, so she offered no response.
"Sir Graham has been very good to us, Julia, dear. He has given us the caretaker’s house by the main road." Throughout the years, a series of caretakers had lived in the house on the main road that one would pass on the way to the road leading to Sir Graham’s estate. The last caretaker had a young wife, who had maintained the house well enough that although they had left some three months ago, there was little that would need to be done to the house. Sir Graham had found it difficult to find a suitable replacement for the role of estate caretaker, and so the house sat empty. Beginning to think of the long evenings completely alone, Sir Graham had thought of a plan of his own: to give Andrew the house and the role of caretaker would keep all of his family near at hand as well as filling the position.
The possibility of such a gift had not occurred to the Munsons, and it was considerably more than Julia had hoped for. Indeed, she had not wished to live so far outside of the neighborhood that she could not walk to see her family and friends, as she was aware that Andrew would probably not be able to maintain a carriage for her. At best she would have a horse suitable for a lady, and Julia was not much of a horsewoman. Materially, the house was even somewhat superior to the homes they had thought of, even had they been repaired. It was considerably more substantial than the cottage in which she had been raised, and it was a newer building than Sir Graham’s own grand house; it stood two stories tall, was made of solid grey stone with white shutters, and a bright robin’s egg blue door faced the short stone wall covered in creeping flowering vines that separated the estate from the main road for some distance.
Feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the news, Julia dropped her gaze to the ground, while wishing to throw her arms about Andrew’s neck. Andrew put one finger under her chin, tipping her face up. "Does this please you?" "It is perfection," she whispered. Andrew had daily proofs of what a pleasant marital life he had to look forward to, and he was so pleased to provide Julia with this news that obviously meant so much to her. "Then come, let us go to your mother and your sisters; we shall all go to Sir Graham and make merry."
--Speech, July 25 and 27, 1846. Vol. v. p. 187., Daniel Webster
Emily had been contemplating her guests under the bright afternoon sun. The family resemblance was strong. While Miss Fairmont was tall for her sex, she was not nearly as tall as Dr. Fairmont, nor as broad, herself being delicately boned, but otherwise they seemed nearly siblings, not cousins. Both had hair that was blonder than Emily had thought possible for adults. Miss Fairmont had a narrow aristocratic nose that was a smaller version of her cousin’s. The cousins had bright blue eyes, and Miss Fairmont’s delicate smile had something of the jovial quality that Dr. Fairmont’s had. Emily had also noticed that Miss Fairmont took extra care with her skin, and she did not doubt that Sicily had the tendency to darken, which was obvious in the glow of Dr. Fairmont’s warm skin tones.
Emily had hoped that after showing Dr. Fairmont the new sanatorium, Dr. Fairmont would offer his services, but he had made no mention of any such desire, although he praised the facility greatly. She now felt as if she must say something herself. "We have not discussed the sanitarium since we visited," she began quietly. Dr. Fairmont stirred. "It is an admirable facility. It serves the community well," he replied, looking from Mrs. Langley to his cousin’s watercolor. "Dr. Ploughman is rather overwhelmed. He has been looking for the right professional to help lighten his burden." Dr. Fairmont changed his position in his chair, crossing his one leg over the other and audibly sighing. "He is rather more suited to having a neighborhood practice than providing for the pressing needs of an establishment such as that," Dr. Fairmont agreed.
Emily was a little discouraged that he was refusing to acknowledge her hint, and she was baffled by his seeming discomfort at the discussion. "Would you not feel fulfilled in such a position?" Emily finally ventured. Dr. Fairmont turned his gaze back on Mrs. Langley: the gaze was so intense that she once again felt as if he was looking inside of her, and she had all she could do to restrain herself from getting up and leaving her companions. He wore a strange expression, but after what seemed an eternity, he looked back at Miss Fairmont’s painting. "Brighton pleases me," he asserted, sounding wholly displeased.
***
There was a soft rap at Dr. Fairmont’s door, and he paused in packing his traveling case. "Come in." The door opened a small way, and Sicily peered through. "Am I bothering you?" she asked quietly. "Of course not, come in," he said, turning back to his task. Miss Fairmont closed the heavy wooden door behind her. "Are you all packed, Sicily?" "I am," she said, coming to stand by his bed.
Dr. Fairmont glanced back up at his cousin. "Is something wrong, Sicily? You look as if you have something to say." "I do, but you will think me presumptuous." "I have never felt that way before, so I shan’t begin to now. You can always speak frankly with me," he said, removing his satchel from the bed. "I was listening this afternoon, when perhaps you thought I was absorbed in my watercolors," she began hesitantly. Dr. Fairmont nodded, but at what she was hinting he could not guess. "I simply don’t understand, Colin," she said, nervously fingering one of the four engraved wooden bedposts. "I am at a loss: to what do you refer, Sicily dear?" "Only, I believe Mrs. Langley…I believe…she is a major contributor to the hospital, and I believe she was trying to request your assistance. You would not even understand her."
Dr. Fairmont shifted on his feet and thrust his hand behind his back. "You are angry: it is as I thought," she said biting her lip. "No, but I have my reasons for not ‘understanding’ Mrs. Langley." "I thought I would never need remind you of your familial duties," she continued quietly. Dr. Fairmont laughed. "I think she has just about as much assistance from her family as she can stomach. No, Mrs. Langley does not require help from me. If I thought perhaps she did…" but Dr. Fairmont trailed off. Sicily stood quietly before her cousin, but he did not continue. "We have had such a lovely time, have we not?" she asked, trying to end the silence. "Yes, Sicily. Mrs. Langley’s company is altogether too lovely."
Miss Fairmont was confused by her cousin’s answer, and Dr. Fairmont misread the look that crossed her face. "I’m not saying that we will never see Mrs. Langley again. I shall see to it that you visit her whenever you should wish and whenever she will have you, but I shall not assist with the sanatorium." He paused for a moment, thinking of what he could say that would make his cousin agree with his decision. "You would not wish to leave Brighton, would you?"
Feeling as if her cousin posed this question rhetorically, Miss Fairmont came forward, kissed her cousin on the cheek, and wished him goodnight, as she had done every night since she had been placed under his charge, before leaving the room and closing the door softly behind her.
Be it ever so humble, there ’s no place like home;
A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,
Which sought through the world is ne’er met with elsewhere.
An exile from home splendour dazzles in vain,
Oh give me my lowly thatched cottage again;
The birds singing gayly, that came at my call,
Give me them, and that peace of mind dearer than all.
--Home, Sweet Home. (From the opera of "Clari, the Maid of Milan."), J. Howard Payne
Emily stood at her brother’s entrance into the room and kissed him on the cheek, bidding him to sit down. "You look well, Andrew. Your impending nuptials must agree with you. Do they suit Julia as well? Every time I call at the Munsons’ she is absent." "She is very busy, I believe, but she does well." "I am glad to hear it. It would seem that you will have a brilliant day as well: the weather has been very fair." Emily was unaware of the purpose of her brother’s visit and was looking forward to merry chatter with him about the long awaited and much desired event, but watching him, she felt as if he had something else he would like to say.
"Is something wrong, Andrew?" "No, nothing is wrong, although I can think of no advantageous way to speak to you about this." Emily sighed: she was now certain a lecture was coming, and she could think of no reason for such a lecture. As of late she had been an exemplary sister, cousin, and widow. Even her aunt seemed less vexed by her than usual. "Well, I sit here waiting," she said with a rueful smile.
"I worry about you here alone, Emily." She was shocked by the topic: she had thought this all decided some months ago. "I am not alone: I have my servants and do very well." "Yes, yes, I know, but the fact remains that I worry. I have let the matter go, until now, because I know that you value your independence." "I also value the right to live in my husband’s home. You have been given a home, and I don’t think you would care to be driven out." Andrew ran his hands through his hair. "The situations are entirely different, Emily. But you jump ahead and fail to let me finish." "Oh, I sit here enthralled. Do finish."
"I know it is useless to ask you to come live with Julia and I. I know very well that you would have nothing of that. I do not presume to request such a situation." Emily laughed. "This at least shows that you know me somewhat, brother dear." "Yes, I do. I also know Sir Graham, and I hate to leave him alone. He has had one or both of us to keep him company for quite some time now. I don’t think he should be abandoned."
Emily stood, and walking past her brother, went to the window. "This is quite the tact to take. You seek to make me feel guilty, when it is you who are altering his situation. But then, I suppose I am more easily disturbed than the rest of us." Andrew remained silent, hoping his sister would come to feel the rightness of his suggestion. Emily swung around. "No, Sir Graham surely does not desire my constant companionship. I wear on him with my plans and my speeches and my pert opinions. He is better suited to someone merry and easy. That is why he has preferred your company so much to mine. I have considered his change in situation, but you and Julia are within easy walking distance. I daresay his daily pursuits will be as uninterrupted as ever."
Andrew stood. "I had thought you would be more reasonable." "I doubt very much that you did," Emily said, resting against the windowsill. "If you must be willful, I must exact a promise from you." "Oh no, I will do no such thing. Goodness knows what you should wish me to promise." Andrew shook his head: this interview had gone even worse than he had imagined it might. "I know you mean well, Brother, but I am capable of making decisions for myself. If at some time in the future, anyone in my family truly needs my presence, I will come. I know that as a widow I need to help my family where I can. When that day comes, trust that I will come, but for now, there is no need, and I do not think you should ask it of me."
Andrew was somewhat chastened. "Forgive me," he said quietly. Emily came forward to her brother and grasped his clasped hands. "Let’s not speak on it. I want only to think about your wedding. I couldn’t be happier." Andrew embraced his sister. One of the things he loved about her was that he knew what she said to be true: she took true delight in the happiness of her brother and the rest of her family. He felt in his heart that his sister was right, and that he had nothing to worry about concerning her, as long as her pride was kept somewhat in check.
"Come with me back to Auntie Munson’s. There are a million things to do, and if you come with me, I might not be asked to do so many of them," Andrew said with a smile. Emily laughed, shaking her head. "I believe I have done a million and one more things for your wedding than I did for my own." Andrew began to stride out of the room and down the hallway. "Well, no use complaining about it. I shouldn’t think you’d be surprised. This is Julia that I’m marrying." Emily followed close behind, picking up her shawl as she passed the side table. "I shall tell her you said that."
-- The Marriage of Guenevere. Act i. Sc. 3., Richard Hovey
The couple glowed with happiness, as did the Munsons, who rejoiced in the marriage of their eldest daughter, feeling somewhat more secure in their future. Sir Graham was quite pleased, considering that his personal happiness was assured now that his family was installed so near to him. As Emily sat beside her great uncle, she felt more happiness on this day than she had on her own. Andrew was the dearest person in the world to her, and her cousins followed closely in her affection; seeing these two united was near perfection, and she felt some small satisfaction in having helped bring about the union.
She did not admit to herself that there were other reasons for her joy that afternoon. The post had arrived that morning with a letter from Dr. Fairmont. It was only the second missive from him since the visit. The first had been a simple thank you for her hospitality, and Emily had thought it somewhat guarded. She blamed herself for pressing the issue of the sanitarium, concluding that Dr. Fairmont had thought it presumptuous of her. When nothing arrived from him afterwards, she was even more convinced of her error, but knew not how to amend the situation. This morning’s letter, however, left her feeling that all was healed.
It was nominally sent to offer well wishes for Emily’s brother and cousin, whom he thoughtfully remembered were to be married on this day--a kindness she thought very considerate. It was the warm inquiries into her own well being and communications of how both he and Miss Fairmont faired, however, that showed a renewed understanding that Emily found quite comforting. Having read it through three times, she had folded it back up and tucked it into her skirts, so that even now it was still with her, as she sat at her brother’s wedding feast.
Not everyone was so well disposed that afternoon, however. Miss Cassidy was feeling decidedly discontented and did little to pretend otherwise. She had said very little to her aunt, who was her only companion at the festivities, her father and brother both having left England once more for their duties. Eloisa secretly wished that some duty could have called her away from being present today.
"There is a shocking lack of refreshments," her aunt commented. "There would be more, if the laborers did not eat more than their share," Eloisa said crossly. "The late Miss Munson does look pretty though." Eloisa made no reply to her aunt’s concession, preferring to stare at the ground below her. After some minutes, fearing that her aunt suspected her of some attachment for Mr. Dawson, she began a new subject. "I am glad my brother is not here to witness this." "Oh, you’re right, my dear. We mustn’t mention it to him in the next letter we write. Although, as handsome as he is, I dare say he will find a young lady who better appreciates his potential." "Yes, I’m sure," Eloisa agreed meekly, fearing that no one would see her potential.
Dr. Ploughman approached, putting an end to their discussion to Miss Cassidy’s relief. "Good afternoon, Dr. Ploughman," Mrs. Cassidy said. "Good afternoon, ladies. I trust you are well." Both women nodded in affirmation, although the younger was feeling far from well. "I have just had the fortune of coming from the table where the wedding party is entertaining. What a pleasant young couple!" "Indeed, what a favorable event when compared with the former Miss Dawson’s nuptials," Mrs. Cassidy said with a shake of her head. Dr. Ploughman raised his eyebrows. "That did not turn out all that well, that is true." "No, and there is something very satisfying in watching two young people beginning their lives, rather than one finishing his and…well, this is preferable," Mrs. Cassidy said authoritatively.
"However, I happened to mention to Mrs. Langley that I had it on good authority that she might soon follow her brother to the altar," Dr. Ploughman said, pleased to have a bit of gossip for the ladies. This revelation was unforeseen by the ladies. "Truly?" Miss Cassidy asked, coming out of her sullen mood for a moment. "Well, I happen to have a certain intimacy with Dr. Fairmont, as you know. Did you know that he was here some weeks ago visiting Mrs. Langley?" Mrs. Cassidy put her hand to her chest. "Oh, lower your voice, Dr. Ploughman. This might not be appropriate discussion for today." Dr. Ploughman frowned. "I meant no harm in mentioning it. I simply thought it to mean there was a continued relationship between the two since Mr. Langley’s death that bespoke of some growing…"
Miss Cassidy stopped listening and began straining to see through the crowd of well-wishers surrounding the table where the family sat. She had always thought of Mrs. Langley as a rather odd contemporary, but this titillating possibility made her more human and decidedly more interesting to Miss Cassidy. She turned back to Dr. Ploughman. "How did Mrs. Langley take your hint?" "She blushed and would not understand me. All young ladies dissemble when it comes to their sweethearts though, so I did not expect a confession." Dr. Ploughman felt very superior having this knowledge both of young ladies in general and Mrs. Langley in particular, even more so, because he had never had any success with the ladies in his youth.
Dr. Fairmont had not given Dr. Ploughman any hint of his attachment for Mrs. Langley. Nor was Dr. Ploughman using any great understanding of the situation when he made his assumption concerning Dr. Fairmont and Mrs. Langley. Instead, having grown somewhat womanish in his love for gossip and having spent many years sitting with Mrs. Cassidy, he was making the type of leaps in judgment that ladies sometimes make out of idleness. Nonetheless, his comments to Mrs. Langley, however ill-informed, were enough to make her feel as if the letter in her skirts was as heavy as a lead weight.
