by Clara Benson
As soon as she reached this conclusion, Maria felt a sense of relief, for the idea of Thomas Fairhead’s having announced his love for her all over Meryton, before she had even begun to think about him in any great degree, had caused her a great deal of disquiet. Now, in the knowledge that they were quite as they had been before, she felt perfectly easy and equal to talking to him again without embarrassment. He need never know what had been said about them, and she could laugh to herself at everybody’s lack of perception. To be sure, the idea of his preferring Mary over herself gave her some pain, for she could not deny that she found him very agreeable, but she thought too little of herself to imagine that she had any claims to his attention.
‘Mamma has always told me what a foolish creature I am,’ she said to herself, ‘and it is true enough; I cannot match Mary’s wit in conversation, or understand clever remarks, or play the pianoforte, or speak French. I have nothing to set me apart from other young ladies—why, then, should I hope for anything more than I have? I must learn to be happy as I am, and not wish for more, for I am certainly not clever enough to deserve it.’
FOURTEEN
‘You are in good looks today, Maria,’ observed Lady Lucas one day in late November. ‘Remember that Mr. Thripp is expected to dine this evening. I hope you will wear your new pink silk, for it becomes you very well.’
‘Thank you, ma’am,’ replied Maria. ‘I had not begun to think about it, but I believe I shall do as you advise.’
‘You are an obliging girl,’ said Lady Lucas, in great good humour, ‘and I hope you will continue to show it before Mr. Thripp.’
Maria did not quite understand what Lady Lucas meant, but she was not attending fully, for she was at that moment engaged in threading a needle. Had she been less inclined to retreat into her own thoughts, she might have noticed a particular tone to her mother’s voice, and become suspicious. As it was, she suspected nothing, and had no idea that anything particular was intended for that evening except a dinner with her father’s friend.
As for Mr. Thripp, he had resolved that this evening should determine his future, and that by the end of it he should know whether he were to remain a single man or no, for he was becoming impatient. For the first week or two after he had received the hint that Maria Lucas was in love with him, he had taken pains to converse with her and deepen their acquaintance, but according to his observations she seemed much as usual, and at last he was forced to admit to himself that if she did harbour an affection for him, she kept it well hidden. It was not to be supposed that Sir William could be mistaken, so Mr. Thripp could only assume from her conduct that she was shyer than he had supposed, and that it would take some time and effort to encourage her to open her heart to him. There was no hurry, however, for in the meantime, Mrs. Partridge had continued to improve in health, and had served up a succession of such delicious dinners that by the end of November he had begun to feel secure. It would be long, he was sure, before he needed to seek her replacement. But alas for all his confidence! Two days ago his housekeeper had fallen ill again, and had taken to her bed, and Mr. Thripp once again foresaw the danger of her permanent removal to Bedfordshire. His comfort must not be attacked, or life would be miserable indeed! He felt the need to settle the matter quickly—regretted having left his future in doubt for so long—and was now determined that there was no time for delicacy, and that Miss Lucas must be persuaded to reveal her true feelings for him as soon as may be.
Accordingly, he arrived at Lucas Lodge in good time, having been more than usually fastidious in dressing, and they all sat down to their meal. Lady Lucas took care to inform Mr. Thripp that Maria had been responsible for the soup, which had turned out particularly well. He turned to Maria and complimented her on her abilities in the kitchen.
‘For it is the duty of every woman to understand what she is about in the home,’ he said. ‘Whether rich or poor, a woman who has been taught nothing of housekeeping ought to be censured; and her mother must bear a large part of the blame for having neglected such an important part of her daughter’s education. Lady Lucas is to be commended for having taught you well,’ (this with a bow in that lady’s direction).
‘It was the first wish of my heart that my daughters be taught the domestic arts,’ said Lady Lucas. ‘I should not have been easy had I seen them grow up without it. I know that some families prefer to fill their daughters’ heads with pretty accomplishments: music, drawing, and what-not—but what use are those when there are four dozen apples waiting in the kitchen to be put into pies? A concerto is a fine thing, but it will not feed a family, Mr. Thripp, and we cannot all hope that our daughters will marry great gentlemen, and do nothing but sit idly in the drawing-room all day. A woman ought to know how to be useful, and I should have considered myself to be neglecting my duty had I not insisted Maria learn it. She is a good girl, and, I flatter myself, has taken her lessons well. I do not think one could find anything wanting in her.’
‘I have no doubt of it,’ said Mr. Thripp, with a complacent smile at Miss Lucas.
The gentlemen did not sit long after dinner, for as soon as he had arrived at Lucas Lodge, Mr. Thripp had dropped a hint of his intentions to his host. Sir William was only too happy to oblige, and had apprised Lady Lucas of what they might expect, that she might assist in forwarding their plans. Accordingly, very shortly after the ladies removed to the drawing-room, Sir William sent Mr. Thripp to join them, while he himself retired to his study to await events.
‘Maria, my dear,’ said Lady Lucas, after the three of them had sat a while. ‘I do not believe Mr. Thripp has seen the napkins you embroidered so prettily last week. Perhaps you might fetch them to show him.’
Maria obeyed without question, but when she returned to the drawing-room, she found only Mr. Thripp there.
‘Where is Mamma?’ she said.
‘She was wanted,’ he replied. ‘I dare say she will be back shortly.’
There followed a short silence, for Mr. Thripp, while not usually uncertain of himself, was unaccustomed to courtship, and was reflecting on how best to proceed so as to be sure of attaining his object. He soon remembered that he was supposed to be admiring Maria’s needle-work.
‘And so these are the very napkins to which your mother alluded as having been wrought by your own fair hand,’ he cried, taking up one of the aforesaid articles and striking an attitude of delight. ‘They are quite charming. I congratulate you, Miss Lucas, on the industry and accomplishment which produced so harmonious an object—for this little scrap of fabric I hold here in my hand combines both beauty and utility, and is in every respect a thing to be preserved and cherished.’
Here he paused to congratulate himself inwardly on having begun so well, for he recalled having heard that to pay compliments was the surest way to win a woman’s heart.
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Maria, in some surprise, for she knew not why her modest handiwork should inspire such a display of ecstasy. ‘It was at Mamma’s suggestion that I did them.’
‘Ah! Your dear mother,’ said Mr. Thripp. ‘Happy thought indeed! And happy the table that is so fortunate to find itself adorned with such precious works of art!’
Maria wished to reply, but knew not how, for his raptures seemed to her to be so out of proportion to what was required, that she wondered whether he was making fun of her. He seemed serious enough, however. Might he, then, be in drink? He had certainly partaken of the wine at dinner with great eagerness. Maria glanced at the door involuntarily and hoped her mother might return soon.
Mr. Thripp was pleased with his beginning, and wished now to press his advantage. It was his object to inform Maria of the advantages which she might expect as his wife, and so he began by talking of his house, and the comfortable arrangements which might be found therein.
‘I was only too delighted to accept your dear mother’s invitation this evening, Miss Lucas,’ he said, ‘for in my opinion Lucas Lodge is one of the most charming houses in the neighbourhood, and quite
the only one for which I should consider leaving my own fireside of a winter’s evening. It is not, perhaps, the thing to say, but I am sure that, as a young woman of feeling, you will understand that there is nothing like the comforts of one’s own home. I do not remember whether you have ever been inside the parsonage?’
‘I do not know—that is, I think I have, but when I was quite a child,’ said Miss Lucas.
‘Ah! Then you will not have seen the changes I have made since I took over the living here in Meryton. That is not to say that I have altered the place out of all recognition—indeed, far be it from me to ruin the associations of your childhood, for I should wish that when you return, you will see it quite as you remember it, and that it will awaken many happy memories.’
‘Oh! I have no particular memories of it,’ said Maria. ‘Indeed, I do not think I was ever there above two or three times.’
‘All the better!’ cried Mr. Thripp. ‘Then I trust I need not fear your disapproval if you find I have blocked up a door here, or painted a closet there.’
‘By no means,’ said Maria.
‘It is of the utmost importance to me,’ went on Mr. Thripp, ‘that the arrangements of my humble home be not unwelcome to those whom I choose to invite into it—I allude especially to the fair sex, naturally, for I know that ladies in general are particularly fastidious in bestowing their approval in these cases.’
‘Perhaps they are,’ said Maria hesitantly. ‘Yes, I believe you are right—it is usually women who care about the looks of a house, while men are commonly supposed to take little notice of such things. I dare say that is because a woman is at home so much more than a man.’
‘Indeed, that is the very reason,’ said Mr. Thripp. ‘And yet a single man is unlike other men, I believe, for he has not a wife to take care of the domestic sphere, and must shift for himself in many ways. Mrs. Partridge is an excellent woman, but she has not the deep interest in the precise colour to be used on the walls of the dining-room as she would be if she were mistress of the house. I had some thought of changing yellow for green, or perhaps a pale blue. What think you, Miss Lucas?’
‘I could not say, without seeing it first,’ said Maria.
‘But what is your favourite colour? I believe that with one word from you I should change my mind completely, for I quite look upon you as my guide in all things.’
Here Maria made some general answer as to the advisability of considering the effects of the sunlight at different times of day, but inwardly she was feeling more and more uncomfortable, for by now she was almost certain that Mr. Thripp had taken too much to drink, and she longed for her mother to return and save her from a conversation which she was having some difficulty in following. Mr. Thripp seemed to be dropping hints and allusions to something which she did not understand. Why was she to be his guide? Surely if he wanted advice on how to improve his house, he ought to ask her mother, or Mrs. Long, or some other person with knowledge of such things?
Mr. Thripp now caught up one of the napkins and examined it again.
‘Ah! Blue!’ he said. ‘You have embroidered it in blue! I have my answer. Blue it shall be, and these napkins, or just such another set, will take their pride of place on the table as early as may be.’
‘I shall be more than happy to work you another set, sir,’ said Maria in astonishment. ‘But, pardon me, there is no need to paint the room blue to match these particular ones if you do not like it, for I can just as well do them in another colour.’
Mr. Thripp observed Miss Lucas’s cheeks, which were pink with confusion, and was certain that she had begun to understand him.
‘Well, well, we shall see,’ he said. ‘I know that whatever you choose, the room will look a thousand times better for it. I trust your taste implicitly, Miss Lucas, and know that you could not make a mistake, for I know it is in your nature to be happy and to make others so, and that you will make every effort in your power to create domestic harmony and accord when that happy day comes on which you will leave Lucas Lodge for a home of your own. I know that Sir William and Lady Lucas are quite of my opinion—indeed, who could doubt that they have every trust in their daughter and her talents?—and so you need not fear their disapproval—although your father tells me that he has already spoken to you on the subject, and that you have reached a good understanding. We must not be too precipitate, naturally—oh, no! That would never do, for we do not wish to provide sport for our neighbours, but I believe we must give them something to talk about at last—what say you, Miss Lucas? I am sure you are not unwilling to take my part. Shall we tell Sir William and Lady Lucas that the owner of this fair hand and I are of one mind, and that they might congratulate themselves on the prospect—let us not say, of reducing, but rather of increasing their family by one?’
As he spoke, he had caught hold of her hand, and in her surprise she could hardly listen to what he was saying, nor understand much of his meaning—although it was now very clear to her that he had taken far too much wine, which had caused him to forget himself. She pulled her hand away.
‘I beg you would not, sir,’ she said, in some agitation. ‘Mamma might come in at any second.’
‘Ah! Forgive me. I see your modesty does not approve of such displays of feeling—and I cannot blame you for it. On the contrary, perhaps it were as well for a clergyman to avoid them—for it behoves him to set the example for all his neighbours, and it would not do for everybody to conduct themselves in such an unguarded manner, as they might take it upon themselves to do if word were to get out. Yes, yes, you are right, Miss Lucas, and I congratulate you on your delicacy. I cannot consider myself to have chosen ill when you show me so gently and kindly what is right. I wish that every man might choose a wife of such prudence and consideration.’
Here Maria stared, for at last she had begun to understand his meaning, and could hardly believe her ears. What? Could it really be that Mr. Thripp wanted to marry her? It seemed almost impossible, and yet she knew not how else to interpret his words. He had complimented her work, had asked for her advice in the new decoration of his house, had talked of her father’s approval, and as though she knew all about it, then finally had taken her hand and talked of a wife. Maria was not quick to catch a hint, but it all seemed to point in only one direction. And yet he had not said the words—had not actually asked her to marry him, and so she was assailed by doubt. It could not be! What? Marry Mr. Thripp, who, she was sure, had never thought of her at all until now? For she was quite certain she had never thought of him. Once again she suspected a joke, and in her confusion her only thought was to leave the room as soon as possible.
‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ she said. ‘I have a sudden headache. I will fetch Mamma. Goodbye.’
And with that she ran out of the room. Lady Lucas had been standing by the stairs, and was caught by surprise when her daughter came out and hurried past. She was about to follow Maria when she remembered that their guest was alone in the drawing-room, and went to join him. All was soon explained, and Mr. Thripp had no reason to complain of the progress he had made, although he confessed he was a little surprised at Miss Lucas’s hasty departure.
‘But I dare say she was overcome by the emotion of the moment, and her natural shyness caused her to seek a means of escape,’ he said. ‘Perhaps I was too ardent in my declaration, and she has gone away to seek solitude until she can master her overpowering agitation and joy at the happy fate which will soon be hers.’
‘But did she accept you, sir?’ said Lady Lucas, who could not reconcile his supposition with what she knew of her daughter.
‘Not in so many words,’ he replied. ‘I fear I may have taken her by surprise in my sudden request for her hand—and on reflection, I believe it is only right that she be given a little time to calm herself and reflect upon the matter before she commits herself irrevocably.’
‘I do not know how much time she should need,’ said Lady Lucas doubtfully, ‘and it was shockingly rude of her to run away in that m
anner. I shall fetch her at once.’
‘I beg you would not disturb yourself,’ said Mr. Thripp. ‘It grows late, and now is perhaps not the time to urge my suit. Let her reflect in private, Lady Lucas, and prepare herself for what she knows must come. As to the eventual outcome, I am sanguine, and do not doubt but that if I am granted another audience with her, then all will be settled. If you and Sir William have no objection, I will call again tomorrow, and I trust that by sunset we shall all be congratulating one another on the prospect of our nearer connection.’
They were then joined by Sir William, and all was explained again. Mr. Thripp took his leave, and Sir William and Lady Lucas were left to stare at each other and wonder at the evening’s events. Had Maria accepted Mr. Thripp or not? The gentleman himself seemed to have no doubt of it, but what had he said to frighten Maria away?
‘I shall fetch her,’ said Lady Lucas at length, and went upstairs to do so, but upon opening her daughter’s bedroom door discovered that Maria was already sound asleep.
‘No, do not wake her,’ said Sir William, on hearing the news. ‘Better give her time to sleep and speak to her in the morning.’
Since there was nothing else to be done until Mr. Thripp could address Maria again, they shortly afterwards went to bed.
FIFTEEN
Lady Lucas had great difficulty in restraining her curiosity at breakfast the next morning. She longed to speak to Maria about exactly what Mr. Thripp had said, and to find out whether they had reached as good an understanding as that gentleman seemed to think. Sir William, too, was eager to know all—although he felt it better to leave the task of finding it out to his wife, for matters of the heart were a woman’s province—and, besides, he knew Lady Lucas to be more artful than himself in drawing out secrets. Accordingly, as soon as everyone had finished eating, he summoned the younger Lucases out of the room under some pretence, so that the two ladies might be left alone to talk in peace.