by Jane Austen
“That is quite apparent, Sir,” said Charlotte,“but if you will not offer her your support then I am afraid I must take leave of you and offer her mine.” Charlotte released herself from his possession and turned to find Miss Brereton making slow but steady progress toward her. “Your collar, Clara,” said Charlotte proffering the garment to its owner. “Put it on, it is a little puckered but it will serve well enough until you can replace it with another.”
Miss Brereton set about wrapping and tucking the sad looking scrap about her person. Sir Edward Denham waited, with an air of impatience, just a short way ahead of them. Charlotte wished he had walked ahead, she could not bear the embarrassment she felt for Miss Brereton nor the disgust she felt for Sir Edward Denham. Oh, he who had certain expectations to live up to seemed equal to none of them. He was good-looking to be sure but possession of good looks in a man of a lascivious demeanor make him all the more dangerous. Charlotte, mortified that she could so readily have approved of him once, was determined that she could not any longer like him. What was an intelligent man of fair fortune and good breeding doing going about the world with the express purpose of seduction? Why had not Sanditon’s purifying air had the effect of driving out his evils? He had surely breathed enough of it in—his lengthy style of discourse, his penchant for extensive verbalizing, and his love of a prefix or ten, would have dictated that he had done so. Such a person, such an avid speaker, has his mouth open far more often than others do.
As the two ladies neared, Sir Edward Denham made clear that his inclination was to favor Miss Heywood, again her arm was forcibly linked with his, and the situation, the atmosphere, and the conversation were all uneasy. He was unlike any person Charlotte had ever occasioned to meet in her life. She hoped he was unique. To meet more than one such person in a lifetime would be misfortune indeed. Neither her sharp mind nor her sense of fairness would allow her to be influenced by his elegant appearance or accomplished manners. He was, throughout his very being, the epitome of dishonesty and selfishness. Miss Brereton did not utter a word during their walk back to Sanditon House, the responses to Sir Edward’s comments all had to be Charlotte’s, the difficulty being that what she felt strongly compelled to say was left unsaid and what she actually said meant nothing and in no way reflected her actual feelings.
Returned to the house, Charlotte thought with irony on the very different natures of her two visits to the place that day. Lady Denham was now at home and the sitting room, despite the portraits of her deceased husbands, was entirely filled with her presence. She did not seem in as amiable mood as befitted a rich woman on a sunny day and Charlotte wondered if the news of Miss Brereton’s incident would prove to distract her from her misery or further plunge her into it. Sir Edward greeted Lady Denham with a kiss on each cheek, but it seemed without genuine feeling.The lady received Charlotte graciously, gesturing for her to take up a seat nearby.“You find me quite fatigued, Miss Heywood, I have been about the place this morning, the mists are quite my remedy you know and I always take the trouble of inhalation whenever I can. My fatigue is not to concern you. It is merely a side effect of my moisture intake. Some people cannot take the moisture, themselves being somewhat sodden to start with, but I always feel the benefit of inner lubrication.”
Charlotte could do nothing but agree whilst noting to herself that the residents of Sanditon were amongst the oddest creatures imaginable. Sir Edward Denham paced the room and at that moment, Clara, who had been taken up with replacing her collar, returned looking remarkably refreshed.
Teas were on the table, and a selection of sandwiches, which Lady Denham ignored. “Ah, Clara my dear!” she cried,“your walk this morning was beneficial?”
There was no more than a “Yes, ma’am,” as a response.
Charlotte was bemused. Sir Edward was quick to interject; the edge to his voice did not go unnoticed by Charlotte. “Miss Brereton lost her collar by the bank, apparently.”
“Oh, not the white-work piece?” cried Lady Denham.“ I shall be mortified if it were that one, you know it is such a perfect example.”
“Madam, do not be alarmed, the collar is found, but in need of a little repair, I came across it myself while walking the area,” said Charlotte.
“Clara walks the area with regularity,” said Sir Edward to Charlotte and when it became clear that he had nothing more to say on the matter Lady Denham felt herself obliged to add but one firmly spoken word.
“Alone,” said she.
In that instant, Charlotte felt the whole group conspiring to mislead her. Miss Brereton was sitting with a contented air about her, no signs of her previous distress were immediately discernable, and she made no effort to explain to Lady Denham that she had been involved in an incident. Sir Edward did not offer up the subject although this fact was not so startling to Charlotte for she believed his silence on the matter to be the result of his wishing to conceal some unpleasant truth. Lady Denham was disinclined to talk after taking the mists, stating that talking allowed some of the restorative vapors to escape from the inner body therefore rendering the entire process of inhalation pointless.With the lady of the house inclined to silence, the others were obliged to remain quiet and the party eventually dispersed with Sir Edward Denham announcing that he was to call on the Miss Beauforts, Clara Brereton electing to visit the library, and Charlotte heading gratefully toward Trafalgar House with such feelings of astonishment as she had never owned before.
CHAPTER 12
When Mrs. Parker was over her dismay at Charlotte’s lengthy absence, she set about the task of informing her that Mr. Parker had an appointment to call on the Miss Beauforts and that he would be heartily glad of her return, as his wish was that she should accompany him. She had reprimanded poor little Alice for eavesdropping and told her husband that Lady Denham could not be prevailed upon to support either the Mullinses’ or his sister’s stream of causes due to having been absent during their visit. On the subject of his intention to formally introduce himself to the Miss Beauforts, she was nothing but animated.
“My dear Miss Heywood, my husband would feel so much more at ease if you were to accompany him, to take the lead in feminine conversation. Mr. Parker is fully aware that his conversation might be too much of Sanditon and business matters for the young ladies.Your presence will alleviate this.”
Charlotte’s wish was to remain at Trafalgar House, she had heard little of the Miss Beauforts that encouraged her to want to be acquainted with them but, due to a feeling of being bound to do so, she consented to the visit. She was, in all honesty, urged, prompted, and nudged into agreeing. Visits were everything in Sanditon, the encouragement of newcomers was a religion, a necessity, a matter of life or debts. For newcomers bring new wealth, which, if they are favorably received, they are inclined to spread about the place. Old or new, money could never be ignored. And so it was that Charlotte Heywood found herself setting off as friend to Mr. Parker to call on the Miss Beauforts.The very idea of them wearied her. Fashionable young ladies, those who are fashionable to a very particular degree, were generally conceited and Charlotte had not the energy to enthuse about the prospect of spending time with their like. She was likely, she mused, to be thought too much a country girl to be accepted by them.
The much-spoken-of Miss Beauforts were exactly as Charlotte had expected. Prettyish girls, splendidly dressed, whose splendor seemed too much the result of misconceived ideas of elegance. Their ribbons were too brightly colored, their corsets too obviously boosting, and their manner of fluttering their fans by their faces altogether too contrived to be accepted as a natural inclination. Even in the privacy of their sitting room, the Miss Beauforts seemed to feel themselves on parade. And the setting, which had the fashionable look of industry about it, was perfection itself. There was music at the spinnet, a writing case (open) at a small round pedestal table, a work box and books stacked, opened, and scattered about the place, even the sofa was drawn up nearer to the table. A harp—every one of its forty-
one strings would later be discussed and admired—and artist’s tools and achievements completed the picture.This was to be something of an exhibition and the Miss Beauforts displayed themselves with every belief that they represented the finest examples of beauty. In their own way they had about them an air of elegance, their complexions were good as was to be expected, and hoped for, in girls so young, though Charlotte detected traces of rouge.Their voices were cultured, and they were, without doubt, accomplished.They had no compunction in recommending themselves to new acquaintances.
Their particular appeal, however, was ever increased by there being two Miss Beauforts. Here was, in Charlotte’s experience, a very definite case to be argued. Two sisters, even if plain, seemed to have about them a mystical allure that young men or otherwise could not resist.Three or more sisters would merely confuse a gentleman, and one girl with no sisters or rivals lacked all of those charms. Charlotte concluded with conviction that the Miss Beauforts exemplified this rule and she felt sure they had used it to their advantage in the past and were very likely to depend upon it in the future.
The musical Miss Beaufort, who had a sharper nose and more determined look than her sister, was eager to exhibit her talents to her new acquaintances and she struck up on her harp.The artistic Miss Beaufort displayed some of her drawings to the room. She was not without an eye for symmetry or form and her pieces were excellent in quality. It occurred to Charlotte that these sisters, these two girls so prone to flaunt their attributes, had mastered the art of a virtually symbiotic existence where neither girl’s magnetism would detract from the merits of the other.Their chosen pastimes were so intrinsically compatible as to ensure equal attention was always bestowed on both girls.The musical sister would play while the artistic sister drew or showed off her masterpieces. Admirers could listen and look, all at once.Their unity and their affinity were thus displayed that afternoon with the one girl’s pleasant strains on the harp being every bit the accompaniment that the other’s gallery of sketches demanded. Simultaneous admiration was thence awarded and the Miss Beauforts, bright, sparkling, narcissistic creatures that they were, bathed in it.
Mr. Parker, although happily married, had not lost his liking for pretty females and relished being the only man in their audience. Charlotte felt herself very plain and provincial while in the orbit of the sophisticated Miss Beauforts.And French names indeed, thought she, the height of fashion! That was the very impression to give at a small gathering in a small, English seaside town. Quite ladies of the world they promoted themselves as. They were templates; beings torn from La Belle Assemblée; with their pained talk of not yet having decided on the benefits of veils when parasols were surely considered prettier.
All members of the party took some coffee and some cakes, with the exception of the Miss Beauforts who drank the coffee but declined the Maids of Honor with looks of abhorrence and very strong representations about the risks to their figures and their complexions. They each consented to a small piece of bread; though economy of appetite appeared to be the only restriction they imposed upon themselves. In all else, they were extravagant. When refreshments had all been had, Mr. Parker and Charlotte, who had each decided that the introduction could now be considered fully established, were about to take their leave when another addition to the party was made which, by necessity, increased the length of their stay.
Of Miss Lambe, they had had intelligence, but the information had been too scant to entirely forewarn them of her exact character. She was known to be substantially wealthy and seen, upon her arrival, to be abominably thin and considered too precious, too sweet, and too delicate for her own good. Where creed and color had mixed, Miss Lambe had skin the hue of which put Charlotte in mind of the creamy coffee the party had just enjoyed; her eyes, so dark and languid, were contrastingly shiny in her dusky and pretty face. Miss Lambe had undoubtedly earned the honor of being Mrs. Griffiths’s favorite charge and the latter ushered the girl forth into the sitting room with an attitude of panicky reverence; ensuring hers was the most comfortable chair and taking care to check that the draft from the window would not have ill effect.Where Charlotte had noticeably paled in the company of the glittering Miss Beauforts, they now knew their own charms to be diluted. Miss Lambe’s beauty was of the serious kind that needs no adornment. Her simple muslin dress was of the best quality, expertly sewn and exquisitely tailored to her delicate frame. She wore an understated topaz crucifix and no other embellishments. She did not speak, it seemed to Charlotte that her only concession to the procedure of being introduced to those she did not know was to smile and incline her head very carefully as if overdoing the gesture could actually break her neck. It soon became clear that Mrs. Griffiths’s delight was to talk on behalf of her young charge and it was through the exuberant woman that the party learned about Miss Lambe’s first excursion into the sea.
“Goodness me, what a remedy! Your dear sister,” this to Mr. Parker, “elected to go into the machine with poor Miss Lambe. What a kind soul Diana Parker is.The waves were quite at a peak today, I think they quite alarmed Miss Lambe. Did they not, dear?” This last was emphasized with a quick look at her charge but thereafter Mrs. Griffiths’s attention, once more, was devoted to Mr. Parker, who, on hearing such praise of his sister and his Sanditon and indeed his waves, thought it very fortunate that he had not left early. He was all delight.
Mrs. Griffiths continued, “Your good sister had not a shred of hesitation about the matter, the waves, she assured us, would only serve to agitate the remedial deposits of the seabed, so indeed it was fortuitous because Miss Lambe’s single immersion has had the effect of two or maybe three such treatments. She does look markedly improved in color, posture, and humor.The dippers, I daresay, felt the benefit of the lively sea, the horses, mind, were not in the mood. I have never been in a machine that rocked and rattled so. I am always comfortable in one though, I need the protection. I so dread coming across men bathing since the King has made it the trend to immerse unclothed.”
“I was only ever in a bathing machine at Weymouth where I drank the water, not through choice I might add. It did me no good at all, the salt is harsher there, I daresay, than here,” said Charlotte.
Mr. Parker could not disguise the delight he felt in spending time in such company. Mrs. Griffiths was so violently struck with Sanditon that he felt confident of persuading her to visit every year. She would, he was certain, bring with her a good number of sickly, but rich, young women. Sanditon dominated the conversation; all that Charlotte had heard before was repeated and other snippets, which she had not yet been party to, were revealed. She was sure to be subjected to more such details in the future. There was little chance of reminding Mr. Parker that their intention had been to leave at least thirty minutes before. He was engrossed. He was enraptured. They were afforded no break in his unstoppable stream of chatter. Miss Letitia Beaufort, fully aware that Miss Lambe was enjoying the attention she, Letitia, felt herself and her sister to deserve, strolled to the window. Her guise was that of cooling herself, of taking the air, but her intention was to throw a look to her sister without the others of the party being aware of it. She was now heartily tired of Mr. Parker, his attentions had turned so dramatically from her sister and herself to Mrs. Griffiths and Miss Lambe and she wished him gone immediately. Standing there by the casement, her dejection soon dissipated upon seeing Sir Edward Denham, or who she suspected to be him, approaching their lodgings.
“More visitors, cherie,” said she to her sister, affectedly. They had both adopted the fashionable habit of mingling French words with English.
“Who is it?”
“If I am not mistaken, it is Sir Edward Denham himself,” said Letitia, still peeping from behind the drapes.“Yes! It can only be he; too finely dressed to be any other, I am convinced his green coat is taken from the wonderful pattern we admired in Le Beau Monde.”
“And is he handsome?” inquired her sister.
“Soon you shall see.”
The sisters were soon afforded the opportunity of appraising just how handsome a fellow Sir Edward Denham was. Soon after Letitia had announced his arrival, he was brought into the room. An expression of pleasure appeared on his face on his noticing Charlotte but it soon departed and was swiftly replaced by another. He had his first glimpse of the sisters. Oh! Where to direct his eyes, which pretty face to gaze upon first and which to stare at longest! He observed the two young women, who he assumed to be the Miss Beauforts, sitting together on a chaise, each held a fan close up to their mouths so that only their hungry eyes were to be seen. On being introduced to them (Mr. Parker presented the young women as if they were princesses or duchesses at worst), Sir Edward bowed and the young women twittered, but it was impossible to ascertain which twitter came from which girl for the fans remained aloft, coquettishly positioned, and obscured their pretty mouths. Such fluttering was an aptitude, one only acquired with practice. They carried it off well.
“Oh, dismay is all mine,” thought Charlotte.“Surely he is not so impressive as to render two adult girls to dissolve so!” Sir Edward Denham greeted her with courtesy, she responded likewise.“Good afternoon, Sir,” said she.