Page 17 of Affectations of Candour

While Darcy added his earnest entreaty to Miss Baker’s, Miss Wright, on the way back to her chair, passed close by and appeared disconcerted by his having made such a request of another lady. But Miss Elizabeth would not hear of playing.

“I must humbly decline. Surely no one could expect me to follow Miss Wright’s extraordinary performance.”

“Your easy and unaffected playing at Lucas Lodge was most pleasing.” Though by no means capital. “What of Miss Hughes? Does your friend perform?”

“She plays and sings, and I know she has brought her instrument with her. She may not care to perform, though. Miss Hughes is in mourning, or half-mourning now. However, I shall enquire.”

Watching as the two spoke, Darcy assumed there would be no consent. After briefly conferring with her aunt, Miss Hughes spoke to the footman, who then left the room.

Upon return to Darcy’s side, Miss Elizabeth told him her friend’s instrument was being fetched. She bit her lip, though, and frowned. “Miss Hughes will sing and accompany herself, and although a lone, late blooming rose is used as a metaphor, I admire her courage in choosing a song with poignant lyrics that speak of lost loved ones and of solitude.”

The footman returned and handed to Miss Hughes an elegant wooden instrument that was painted a lovely shade of blue with pretty gilded designs. He then took the bench from the pianoforte and placed it just so in the middle of the room for her.

While tuning the instrument, Miss Hughes said, “This is a harp-lute, perfect for accompanying one’s voice in such an intimate venue as this. The song is called”—she bowed her head, took a deep breath, then raised her chin—“The Last Rose of Summer.”

Miss Baker gasped, and her brother clasped his hands in front of his mouth.

Seated and resting the harp-lute against her shoulder, Miss Hughes played and sang, her voice silvery sweet and bright.

’Tis the last rose of summer,

Left blooming alone;

All her lovely companions

Are faded and gone

Her eyes filled with tears, and her voice faltered. Miss Elizabeth rushed to her side, joining her friend in harmony.

No flower of her kindred,

No rose-bud is nigh

To reflect back her blushes,

Or give sigh for sigh.

Miss Hughes persevered through the entire second verse; but, although she kept playing, her voice failed her during the final verse. Miss Elizabeth sang the last four lines alone.

When true hearts lie withered,

And fond ones are flown,

Oh! Who would inhabit

This bleak world alone?

Abruptly standing, Miss Hughes set her instrument upon the bench, curtseyed, then fled, leaving a silent room behind her.

To his consternation, Darcy’s eyes prickled. Looking about the room, he saw Georgiana reaching for her handkerchief. Tears rolled down Miss Elizabeth’s lovely cheeks as she returned to her seat. Miss Baker openly wept.

Next to him, Mr Baker gruffly cleared his throat. “Moving lyrics, sweetly sung.”

“Indeed.” The Wrights, Darcy saw, fidgeted and appeared to suffer more from confusion and embarrassment than any other emotion.

No one seemed to know what to do, until, to Darcy’s amazement, Georgiana took Miss Althea by the arm and led her to the pianoforte, where they played a Beethoven piece with a frolicsome air meant for four hands.

Already this sojourn has worked wonders on her. Brava, little hen!