Pomp and Circumstance: A Pride and Prejudice Continuation

Chapter 16: A Lesson on Perspective

"I am afraid it will be the same set as usual - rather dull, but there is very little to be done for it."

This, Emma Benson was remarking upon the subject of the upcoming dance at Pemberley, to her sister and Georgiana, as they set up their easels and paints in anticipation of Mr. Crawford's soon arrival. The weather, which had been so sullen and stormy the past several days, had seemed to take pity upon the young eligible ladies of Derbyshire, and had decided, in a rare moment of benevolence, to clear itself into a lovely summer day, as if specially for their appointed afternoon of painting.

The three of them were joined, too, by Edmund, who lazed on one of their lawn chairs behind them, and by Mary, who listened to them absently as she glanced every so often upon the hill, from where new - and expected - company might be seen any moment to emerge.

"Edmund shall be bringing some of his friends from university, I expect," Emma Benson continued. "One of them is a Lord Henry Alstock; he's a tepid gentleman himself, but he comes from a very respectable family indeed."

"And certainly, the sin of tepidness is pardoned by the virtue of noble stature," Edmund remarked sardonically.

"My aunt and cousin will also be joining us, I believe," said Georgiana, angling her canvas just so, so that the light did not fall directly on her eyes.

"You do not mean the Lady Catherine de Bourgh!" Emma Benson exclaimed. Georgiana's pronouncement seemed to delight her in its unexpectedness, and in the new avenue of conversation it procured her. "But it was my understanding, after certain injuries rendered, that there still remains some severance between the two parties! Has it then been mended, after all?"

"You need not give her any reply, Georgiana," Edmund broke in. "My dear sister derives pleasure only from things of a most sensational and salacious nature; you speak of everyone far too compassionately for there to be any entertainment in it for her."

"Oh, Edmund, you are a scoundrel! How you do tease your poor sisters!" Emma exclaimed, but her smile was taut as she said it.

That Edmund was in some squabble with his sisters had been clear to Mary as soon as her and Georgiana had arrived that afternoon; hardly a remark could be made by Emma or Charlotte that was not rebutted accordingly and snidely by their brother, in his usual sardonic tone. Mary should have assumed this to be a quarrel of the sisters' own orchestration, if not for the fact that Emma's displeasure with Edmund was as much evident as his displeasure with her.

At this particular instance, however, whether intentionally or not, Georgiana had actually been done a service by his words; she was saved from divulging any greater detail on her estimable aunt Lady Catherine, or on their family's previous rift.

"Lo, here comes Mr. Crawford at last!" exclaimed Charlotte; and it was true; there he arrived over the crest of the hill. Mary's heart seemed to still in her chest a moment as she laid eyes on him; and the memory of their conversation in the gardens, though its sharpness had seemed washed out by the days of rain which had followed it, was once again perfectly vivid in her mind.

Once he reached them, he greeted them all decorously; but it took only a moment for Mary to survey him, and discern that all was not right; that there was in his shoulders a stiffness, and an unfamiliar tightness to his words as he exchanged pleasantries with all of them. With much earnestness did Mary wait for his gaze to meet hers, so that she might from his expression gain some further understanding, but his bow to her was brief and perfunctory; and this only served to assure her even more that some alteration had occurred in him, in the time between their walk in the gardens, and this present moment.

"Mr. Crawford, how glad we are you have joined us!" Emma declared, pleased to have at last a proper audience, and she sat down prettily before her easel. "We are, indeed, quite prepared for our lesson; you find before you most willing and eager pupils, and we hope only that our artistic skills, meager as they might be, might do your tutelage the justice it deserves."