"You can do subjects beyond specimen illustration, I imagine," observed the undaunted Mr. Farthingham.
"I can, but I do not like to," was Dora's reply.
Mr. Farthingham sat there a quarter of an hour more, ignoring me as he plied Dora (who continued to ignore everyone) with flattery. Despite his neglect of me I was quite pleased with him, for when Mrs. Hamilton called just a few minutes after his arrival his presence provided some excuse for Dora's lack of conversation which Mrs. Hamilton might have otherwise thought rude.
Instead of feeling slighted by Dora's lack of attention to her, Mrs. Hamilton approved her her performance. Nodding sagely at the couple she whispered, "Knows what she's doing that one. Always best to play coy at first. Gentlemen like the chase, you know."
Mrs. Hamilton, having recently fulfilled her life's purpose of seeing her only daughter well settled with a suitable husband, considered matchmaking her greatest talent and was now determined to see everyone else properly wed. I knew this after only a few minutes conversation with her at Lady Truesdell's dinner where she pointed out every hint of flirtation between the guests and predicted the chances of martial felicity among the potential couples.
"Son of Lord Ware, you know.Secondson, unfortunately. Has an appointment of some kind with the government, cannot remember what at the moment. Will have some monies settled on him from his mother's father, I understand. Quite a comfortable situation. And such connections. His mother is the grandniece of the Earl of Chesterton," said Mrs. Hamilton in an excited whisper.
I had noted the lady's abhorrence of full sentences the first time I spoke to her, so I was somewhat prepared for confusion, but all this information was pressed upon me sosuddenly I did not at first know what to make of it. Then I realized she was speaking of Mr. Farthingham, of course, and it was not idle gossip, it was something that I, as Dora's chaperon, should know.
After a furtive peek at the gentlemen in question to see if he had heard this concise assessment of him (he was still completely ensnared by Dora), I leaned towards Mrs. Hamilton entreatingly, the universal signal for "Tell me more."
"Cannot think his parents will be—oh, how to put this delicately?—his parents may not be overjoyed at the prospect of a daughter-in-law so lacking in," Mrs. Hamilton paused, producing a theatrical sniff to display her distaste at uttering the very word, "money.But the Darcy name, of course, issomething."
Well, many of those who bear the name are certainlysomething.
"And she is a beauty," my informant continued, "And when a young man is determined there is very little anyone can do about it."
I felt that I should point out that they had only met twice now and it would be rather precipitate to declare their marriage an unstoppable eventuality at this early juncture, however Mr. Farthingham's infatuation was obvious and offers of marriage were often made after an acquaintance of a few months or sometimes only a few weeks. Mrs. Hamilton was right. Dora could soon expect an offer of marriage, especially if Mr. Farthingham considered her complete disregard of him encouraging. I held my silence.
"Very young indeed, you know. Not yet four and twenty. Perhaps too young to be settled, but he is the steady sort, though he associates with a wild crowd. Yet I do not think him wild, as I said, but I feel I should tell you."
I thanked her for her revelations because she seemed to expect it and her information was certainly helpful even if it had been communicated distressingly near the subject.
"Well done of you to steer her his way. Well done, indeed. Some might say with her beauty, she might make a better match—perhaps not better connected, but more wealth. Such fancies do not do at all. Even if such gentleman could be found and enticed, there is such a thing as marrying too far above oneself."
With much mock gravity I said, "Yes, I can imagine."
Mrs. Hamilton pinkened at once and I knew her words had not been meant as an underhanded swipe, rather she had completely forgotten to whom she was speaking. Which is rather wonderful as it means my scandalous marriage is already fading from memory. Gossips' memories. For some reason I have not been able to forget it.
In an effort to show her I was not at all offended I complimented her dress. I have no idea why as it was really a terrible dress, and the cut could not be said to flatter her figure at all but one has to say something and, "Goodness, you really put your foot in your mouth there," is really only something you say to close friends.
Before Mrs. Hamilton went away she cast the couple a final glace and, without endeavoring to whisper this time, said "Charming couple they make. Wedding bells before Easter, mark my words."
Dora looked up at that moment, eyes wide, yet she said nothing (not even a farewell to Mrs. Hamilton) returning to her work as if nothing shocking had been spoken. Mr. Farthingham showed no signs of upset at the remark, he stood and said all the proper things to Mrs. Hamilton before taking his own leave in her wake.
I do not know what to do about Dora. I have no wish to be like Mama, forever babbling about advantageous matches and suitable husbands, yet the truth of the matter is Dora is penniless. It has been suggested that Darcy's great aunt Margaret will leave her something, but to my understanding it will not be much. Relying on an inheritance of some unknown amount to be settled on one at some unknown time in the future does not seem wise. Dora can of course stay here or go to any other relative who is willing to take her, but that does not seem a very steady future either.
Should I tell her she ought to encourage Mr. Farthingham because he has a cozy government appointment and titled relations? I hate the very idea of such mercenary considerations, yet a husband is really the only likely solution to her problems.
It occurs to me that before my marriage my situation had been only slightly better than Dora's and I had had no serious plans for husband hunting either. I just thought a rich, handsome husband would come along. And he did. Husband hunting should always come so easily.
After Mr. Farthingham left, Mr. Bingley called. I wished Jane had arrived earlier to see him (Mr. Bingley, I think, wished the same thing) but I invited him to dine with us tonight so they will be reunited very soon.
"Will you wear your blue gown tonight, Jane?" I asked, because I am apparently Mama and I must speak a thing the moment it comes into my head.
Jane turned to me, startled. I had interrupted her desperate attempt to carry on a polite conversation with Dora which she had been struggling valiantly at since I had begun woolgathering some minutes ago.
"You should definitely wear the blue," I continued, because once one has been rude it is really so much easier just to continue being so. "I think Mr. Bingley likes you in the blue," I added just to nettle her because I am her younger sister and nettling is what younger sisters do.
"I am sure neither of us can know what Mr. Bingley likes," Jane replied primly, taking far more interest in the invitation she was working on than was necessary.
Every time I bring up Mr. Bingley she goes all cryptic and strange. She can be as cryptic and strange as she wants provided she does not do it in front of Mr. Bingley. That would only confuse him and I do not think he handles confusion well. He is not at all like Mr. Farthingham. He needs encouragement. Really obvious encouragement. Cryptic and strange will not cut it.
Dinner tonight will be perfect. Lady Catherine won't be joining us. She informed me of this fact as if I had made an invitation (I hadn't) and I would be terribly crushed that she was turning it down (I wasn't). She will be dining with a dear friend who is a Very Important Personage. She made the importance of the personage very clear several times obviously desperate for me to ask to whom she was referring (I didn't).
