by Jane Austen
Miss Diana probably felt a little awkward on being first obliged to admit her mistake. A long journey from Hampshire taken for nothing, a brother disappointed, an expensive house on her hands for a week must have been some of her immediate reflections; and much worse than all the rest must have been the sensation of being less clear-sighted and infallible than she had believed herself. No part of it, however, seemed to trouble her for long. There were so many to share in the shame and the blame that probably, when she had divided out their proper portions to Mrs. Darling, Miss Capper, Fanny Noyce, Mrs. Charles Dupuis, and Mrs. Charles Dupuis’s neighbor, there might be a mere trifle of reproach remaining for herself. At any rate, she was seen all the following morning walking about after lodgings with Mrs. Griffiths as alert as ever. Mrs. Griffiths was a very well-behaved, genteel kind of woman, who supported herself by receiving such great girls and young ladies as wanted either masters for finishing their education or a home for beginning their displays. She had several more under her care than the three who were now come to Sanditon, but the others all happened to be absent.
Of these three, and indeed of all, Miss Lambe was beyond comparison the most important and precious, as she paid in proportion to her fortune. She was about seventeen, half mulatto, chilly and tender, had a maid of her own, was to have the best room in the lodgings, and was always of the first consequence in every plan of Mrs. Griffiths.The other girls, two Miss Beauforts, were just such young ladies as may be met with in at least one family out of three throughout the kingdom. They had tolerable complexions, showy figures, an upright decided carriage, and an assured look; they were very accomplished and very ignorant, their time being divided between such pursuits as might attract admiration, and those labors and expedients of dexterous ingenuity by which they could dress in a style much beyond what they ought to have afforded; they were some of the first in every change of fashion. And the object of all was to captivate some man of much better fortune than their own.
Mrs. Griffiths had preferred a small, retired place like Sanditon on Miss Lambe’s account and the Miss Beauforts, though naturally preferring anything to smallness and retirement, having in the course of the spring been involved in the inevitable expense of six new dresses each for a three-days visit, were constrained to be satisfied with Sanditon also till their circumstances were retrieved. There, with the hire of a harp for one and the purchase of some drawing paper for the other and all the finery they could already command, they meant to be very economical, very elegant, and very secluded with the hope, on Miss Beaufort’s side, of praise and celebrity from all who walked within the sound of her instrument, and on Miss Letitia’s, of curiosity and rapture in all who came near her while she sketched and to both, the consolation of meaning to be the most stylish girls in the place.
The particular introduction of Mrs. Griffiths to Miss Diana Parker secured them immediately an acquaintance with the Trafalgar House family and with the Denhams and the Miss Beauforts were soon satisfied with “the circle in which they moved in Sanditon,” to use a proper phrase, for everybody must now “move in a circle”—to the prevalence of which rotatory motion is perhaps to be attributed the giddiness and false steps of many. Lady Denham had other motives for calling on Mrs. Griffiths besides attention to the Parkers. In Miss Lambe, here was the very young lady, sickly and rich, whom she had been asking for and she made the acquaintance for Sir Edward’s sake and the sake of her milch asses. How it might answer with regard to the baronet remained to be proved but, as to the animals, she soon found that all her calculations of profit would be vain. Mrs. Griffiths would not allow Miss Lambe to have the smallest symptom of a decline or any complaint which asses’ milk could possibly relieve. Miss Lambe was “under the constant care of an experienced physician” and his prescriptions must be their rule. And except in favor of some tonic pills, which a cousin of her own had a property in, Mrs. Griffiths never deviated from the strict medicinal page.
The corner house of the Terrace was the one in which Miss Diana Parker had the pleasure of settling her new friends and, considering that it commanded in front the favorite lounge of all the visitors at Sanditon and on one side whatever might be going on at the hotel, there could not have been a more favourable spot for the seclusion of the Miss Beauforts. And accordingly, long before they had suited themselves with an instrument or with drawing paper, they had, by the frequency of their appearance at the low windows upstairs in order to close the blinds, or open the blinds, to arrange a flowerpot on the balcony, or look at nothing through a telescope, attracted many an eye upwards and made many a gazer gaze again. A little novelty has a great effect in so small a place.The Miss Beauforts, who would have been nothing at Brighton, could not move here without notice. And even Mr. Arthur Parker, though little disposed for supernumerary exertion, always quitted the Terrace in his way to his brother’s by this corner house for the sake of a glimpse of the Miss Beauforts, though it was half a quarter of a mile round about and added two steps to the ascent of the hill.
CHAPTER 11
Charlotte had been ten days at Sanditon without seeing Sanditon House, every attempt at calling on Lady Denham having been defeated by meeting with her beforehand. But now it was to be more resolutely undertaken, at a more early hour, that nothing might be neglected of attention to Lady Denham or amusement to Charlotte.
“And if you should find a favorable opening, my love,” said Mr. Parker, who did not mean to go with them,“I think you had better mention the poor Mullins’s situation and sound Her Ladyship as to a subscription for them. I am not fond of charitable subscriptions in a place of this kind, it is a sort of tax upon all that come.Yet as their distress is very great and I almost promised the poor woman yesterday to get something done for her, I believe we must set a subscription on foot, and, therefore, the sooner the better, and Lady Denham’s name at the head of the list will be a very necessary beginning.You will not dislike speaking to her about it, Mary?”
“I will do whatever you wish me,” replied his wife, “but you would do it so much better yourself. I shall not know what to say.”
“My dear Mary,” he cried.“It is impossible you can be really at a loss. Nothing can be more simple. You have only to state the present afflicted situation of the family, their earnest application to me, and my being willing to promote a little subscription for their relief, provided it meet with her approbation.”
“The easiest thing in the world,” cried Miss Diana Parker, who happened to be calling on them at the moment.“All said and done in less time than you have been talking of it now. And while you are on the subject of subscriptions, Mary, I will thank you to mention a very melancholy case to Lady Denham, which has been represented to me in the most affecting terms.There is a poor woman in Worcestershire, whom some friends of mine are exceedingly interested about, and I have undertaken to collect whatever I can for her. If you would mention the circumstance to Lady Denham! Lady Denham can give, if she is properly attacked.And I look upon her to be the sort of person who, when once she is prevailed on to undraw her purse, would as readily give ten guineas as five. And therefore, if you find her in a giving mood, you might as well speak in favor of another charity which I and a few more have very much at heart, the establishment of a Charitable Repository at Burton on Trent.And then there is the family of the poor man who was hung last assizes at York, though we really have raised the sum we wanted for putting them all out, yet if you can get a guinea from her on their behalf, it may as well be done.”
“My dear Diana!” exclaimed Mrs. Parker, “I could no more mention these things to Lady Denham than I could fly.”
“Where’s the difficulty? I wish I could go with you myself. But in five minutes I must be at Mrs. Griffiths’s to encourage Miss Lambe in taking her first dip. She is so frightened, poor thing, that I promised to come and keep up her spirits and go in the machine with her if she wished it. And as soon as that is over, I must hurry home, for Susan is to have leeches at one o’ clock which w
ill be a three hours’ business. Therefore, I really have not a moment to spare. Besides that, between ourselves, I ought to be in bed myself at this present time for I am hardly able to stand, and when the leeches have done, I daresay we shall both go to our rooms for the rest of the day.”
“I am sorry to hear it, indeed. But if this is the case I hope Arthur will come to us.”
“If Arthur takes my advice, he will go to bed too, for if he stays up by himself he will certainly eat and drink more than he ought. But you see, Mary, how impossible it is for me to go with you to Lady Denham’s.”
“Upon second thoughts Mary,” said her husband. “I will not trouble you to speak about the Mullinses. I will take an opportunity of seeing Lady Denham myself. I know how little it suits you to be pressing matters upon a mind at all unwilling.” His application thus withdrawn, his sister could say no more in support of hers, which was his object, as he felt all their impropriety and all the certainty of their ill effect upon his own better claim. Mrs. Parker was delighted at this release and set off very happy with her friend and her little girl on this walk to Sanditon House.
It was a close, misty morning and, when they reached the brow of the hill, they could not for some time make out what sort of carriage it was which they saw coming up. It appeared at different moments to be everything from a gig to a phaeton, from one horse to four and, just as they were concluding in favor of a tandem, little Mary’s young eyes distinguished the coachman and she eagerly called out,“It is Uncle Sidney, Mama, it is indeed.”And so it proved. Mr. Sidney Parker, driving his servant in a very neat carriage, was soon opposite to them, and they all stopped for a few minutes.
The manners of the Parkers were always pleasant among themselves; and it was a very friendly meeting between Sidney and his sister-in-law, who was most kindly taking it for granted that he was on his way to Trafalgar House.This he declined, however. He was “just come from Eastbourne proposing to spend two or three days, as it might happen, at Sanditon” but the hotel must be his quarters. He was expecting to be joined there by a friend or two. The rest was common inquiries and remarks, with kind notice of little Mary, and a very well-bred bow and proper address to Miss Heywood, on her being named to him. And they parted to meet again within a few hours. Sidney Parker was about seven or eight and twenty, very good-looking, with a decided air of ease and fashion and a lively countenance.This adventure afforded agreeable discussion for some time. Mrs. Parker entered into all her husband’s joy on the occasion and exulted in the credit that Sidney’s arrival would give to the place.
The road to Sanditon House was a broad, handsome, planted approach between fields, leading at the end of a quarter of a mile through second gates into grounds which, though not extensive, had all the beauty and respectability which an abundance of very fine timber could give.These entrance gates were so much in a corner of the grounds or paddock, so near to one of its boundaries, that an outside fence was at first almost pressing on the road, till an angle here and a curve there threw them to a better distance. The fence was a proper park paling in excellent condition, with clusters of fine elms or rows of old thorns following its line almost everywhere.“Almost” must be stipulated, for there were vacant spaces, and through one of these, Charlotte, as soon as they entered the enclosure, caught a glimpse over the pales of something white and womanish in the field on the other side. It was something which immediately brought Miss Brereton into her head and, stepping to the pales, she saw indeed, and very decidedly in spite of the mist, Miss Brereton seated not far before her at the foot of the bank which sloped down from the outside of the paling and which a narrow path seemed to skirt along. Miss Brereton seated, apparently very composedly, and Sir Edward Denham by her side. They were sitting so near each other and appeared so closely engaged in gentle conversation that Charlotte instantly felt she had nothing to do but to step back again and say not a word. Privacy was certainly their object. It could not but strike her rather unfavorably with regard to Clara but hers was a situation which must not be judged with severity.
She was glad to perceive that nothing had been discerned by Mrs. Parker. If Charlotte had not been considerably the taller of the two, Miss Brereton’s white ribbons might not have fallen within the ken of her more observant eyes.Among other points of moralizing reflection which the sight of this tête-à-tête produced, Charlotte could not but think of the extreme difficulty which secret lovers must have in finding a proper spot for their stolen interviews. Here perhaps they had thought themselves so perfectly secure from observation, the whole field open before them, a steep bank and pales never crossed by the foot of man at their back, and a great thickness of air to aid them as well! Yet here she had seen them.They were really ill-used.
The house was large and handsome. Two servants appeared to admit them and everything had a suitable air of property and order, Lady Denham valued herself upon her liberal establishment and had great enjoyment in the order and importance of her style of living.They were shown into the usual sitting room, well proportioned and well furnished, though it was furniture rather originally good and extremely well kept than new or showy. And as Lady Denham was not there, Charlotte had leisure to look about her and to be told by Mrs. Parker that the whole-length portrait of a stately gentleman which, placed over the mantelpiece, caught the eye immediately, was the picture of Sir Henry Denham and that one among many miniatures in another part of the room, little conspicuous, represented Mr. Hollis. Poor Mr. Hollis! It was impossible not to feel him hardly used.To be obliged to stand back in his own house and see the best place by the fire constantly occupied by Sir Henry Denham.
Too much concern over the fate of Mr. Hollis’s spirit, despite his place in death having become secondary to his position in life, would detract focus from those creatures alive and vibrant and all amassed at Sanditon. Charlotte put aside thoughts of Lady Denham’s husbands now she was in the lady’s house, and, attempting to reform her opinions of the woman, she said aloud, “Poor Mr. Hollis, in such a crowd!” She was determined to think well of Lady Denham, however, but more due to force of will, and as a nod in the direction of etiquette, than any true inclination to view the woman as anything less than someone small in spirit but noticeably large of purse.
Mrs. Parker, who had not Charlotte’s shrewd eye for analysis, relished the advantages that having the well-appointed sitting room unattended afforded her. She held no feelings of contempt for Lady Denham, on the contrary, her estimations led her to think the woman’s character entirely in keeping with her situation, but she noted that success in absorbing all the details her inquisitive nature craved was best achieved in the lady’s absence. Her eye was cast around; there were all those aspects that any woman familiar with the operations of housekeeping might pick out without meaning to do so with a view to criticism. The mantelpiece: was it free enough of dust to prove daily attentions? The floral display: was it fresh with upright blooms, rigid stems, and perky foliage as would speak of today’s pickings? Mrs. Parker’s expectations were entirely satisfied, all matters of homely comfort blended perfectly with the subtlest indications of grandeur.
The ambience at Sanditon House was the result of a rigorous housekeeping regimen and a good fortune.The sun had not been permitted to ravage this room. Some of the windows were bricked in and the blinds were more often down than up and the pristine condition of the furnishings, the well-rubbed mahogany and the paintings, proved such attention was worthwhile.The carpet was a new one, from Moorfields, London, with large octagons of crimson and gold. The plasterwork ceiling, should one’s head be inclined upward, provided a pleasurable distraction; beasts entwined with fulsome fruits, insects, and ribands.This was by no means Mrs. Parker’s first visit to Lady Denham’s home, but the opportunity for unsupervised inspection was a novelty and her curiosity was satisfied in just one half of an hour.With Lady Denham away Mrs. Parker naturally took the lead in the proceedings, appearing at once knowledgeable and at ease with the place. Charlotte obliged he
r companion by playing the role of newcomer with such obliging and wide-eyed fascination as might win her acclaim in the theater.
“Is it not all you would expect, Charlotte my dear?” said Mrs. Parker.“The very picture of a home of significance?”
The younger turned to her elder, mindful to check her inclination to appear unimpressed. “Yes, it is very much as I expected, most significant,” said she.
“Lady Denham has exactly the right number of servants you know, neither too little a band to be unequal to the demands of such a house, nor so large a throng as might cause inconvenience.” Seeing Charlotte’s expression, and judging her querulous, Mrs. Parker explained, “An excess of servants makes for as miserable a situation as having none at all.Too many mouths to feed, too many varying opinions as to result in discord and the increased possibility of a hapless chambermaid running off with an under-gardener.” In a hushed tone she made further efforts to support her argument, confessing, “This sort of thing has happened, my dear Miss Heywood, it was the very fashion for some years. I think every great house must have suffered from the complaint at one time or another,” then in an even lower whisper she went on, “I heard a tale, not so long ago enough as to render it less disquieting, of a butler, yes a butler—and quite a respected fellow at that—who went out of his wits for a parlormaid. The pair, disloyal scoundrels they proved themselves to be, dispatched, it is said, for Gretna without so much as a mention! The worst of it was that a whole ham and a soup ladle were discovered to have been misappropriated the following day. I ask you! A soup ladle! A ham! A whole one.”
Charlotte heard this with a smile in her heart but a solemn countenance.“I wonder at the reasons for their choice.”