by Jane Austen
Charlotte, whose reluctance to become wrapped up in the proceedings counted for very little, cried, “Perhaps an apothecary’s jar in place of a vase or if you sincerely mean to follow the theme, bandaging might do as well as any cloth for the table. So well indeed, it would be a pity to remove it at dessert.” At this, Mrs. Parker frowned but her husband smiled knowingly.
“Your high spirits are promotion indeed for Sanditon, Miss Heywood,” declared the latter, “how much you find to laugh about, how truly happy your disposition, how essentially humorous your character has become. It is hard not to smile by the sea, is it not, Miss Heywood?”
Not wishing to deny Mr. Parker the pleasure of believing that location rather than disposition was the cause of her good humor, Charlotte responded quietly, “With all my heart, Sir, I am sure I could never smile so easily in another place.”
Mr. Parker, so delighted with the world in general, and particularly pleased with Charlotte, proclaimed life a thorough success and announced that he would not be opposed to spending several pounds more than budgeted on the proposed evening’s entertainment. Mrs. Parker felt the expenditure and excitement to be unwarranted but she was put firmly in her place by her husband.
“Mary! While it pains me to cause you any worry, I must remind you that Morgan is quite equal to the task and our cook’s instructions, if you have any concern over them, will be quite simple. We may not boast the advantage of a French chef but Heavens above, my dear, I am not so foolish as to be planning one hundred and twelve dishes!” Mr. Parker’s mind was soon on dessert.“Upon my word, I do so hanker after a forcing garden; it is the very thing to serve exotic fruits these days. Some have it that too much fruit excites the stomach but I never had a moment’s anxiety with fruit of any sort, cooked or fresh. No, indeed, I would honestly welcome a pineapple or two. Nevertheless, we shall do with what they have at Sanditon House. Andrew, the gardener there, stays with what he knows but serves us well enough.We may not have glamour in our puddings but the regular summer fruits are not to be frowned upon.” On the subject of expense, he said nothing more than, “Pray, spare us all the vulgarity of counting coins, Mary.”
Invitations were sent, received, and returned. The party was to consist of Mr. and Mrs. Parker, Charlotte,Abigail, Diana, Susan, and Arthur, Mrs. Griffiths, the Miss Beauforts, the three Hollises, and several Sanditonians who had been deemed suitable either by the nature and severity of their ailments or the size of their purses.The guests of honor were, naturally, Dr. Wellscott and his nurse. It was decided, with Lady Denham unable to attend, that Dr. Wellscott himself would lead the party in to dinner. With numbers totaling five and twenty it was agreed that there was a very high risk that the good doctor, such was his novelty, might be swamped. Every attempt, Mr. Parker insisted, to relieve the man of unnecessary suffocation was to be made.
“We must avoid situations that might force the poor fellow to talk business all of the evening, much as I am eager to promote him I fear too zealous an approach might overwhelm him.”
“And medicinal matters are not generally considered appropriate subjects for discussion at dinner,” observed Charlotte.“There is a very real danger of appetites being lost I think.”
“Quite so! You have it exactly right. Restraint must be encouraged. If any amongst the party wish to seek Dr.Wellscott’s advice, they should be urged to do so, but not publicly, not socially,” said Mr. Parker.
“Indeed not,” said Charlotte. “Let them save their ill heads and fevers for other more seemly occasions.”
“Occasions that must be paid for, Miss Heywood, not to be too harsh upon our residents, but some people are notoriously adept at wheedling advice when they might otherwise be expected to pay for it. Such is the medical man’s lot, I gather. Preposterous really, one would not expect a tailor to hand out new breeches to everyone he happened to meet at a gathering, but doctors are, I am sorry to say, oft victims of a certain type of robbery and I want none of it for my dear Wellscott.”
CHAPTER 23
Wellscott was a man whose five and forty years had served him well, he was too broadly built to be considered elegant, but his features were good and strong, his eyes the very representation of kindness, and his curls would have been admired had they been less unruly. He had gone about the world in a state of utter dedication, devoted as he was to his chosen profession, but it could not honestly be said that he excelled in his medical endeavors. His knowledge and his judgment were sound enough, but without that sturdiness of mind that other men of his profession possessed, he was inclined to allow the healthy to believe themselves ailing, if they wished it, and agreed, rather too readily, to oblige their whims. Moreover, he had a propensity to provide potions and pills for anyone who took a fancy to having them. Having made neither a serious diagnosis nor a serious mistake during his twenty years in practice, he had maintained his position creditably and now, in his forty-sixth year, was congratulating himself on having fallen into such a fortuitous situation as was to be his at Sanditon.
The only blemish that sullied his rosy view of life was his bachelor state. A good wife, he had lately thought, would prove an asset, a companion, and he had quietly convinced himself that at least one of the ladies, those expected to descend in their multitudes to his little seaside practice, would possess all the irresistible attributes that would induce him to make a proposal. He harbored few fixed ideas about what such a woman would be like, had made no general observations of other ladies in his acquaintance to have any notion of what pleased him and what did not. He was fond enough of dark eyes but not so smitten by them as to lessen the chances of a blue-eyed lady. He had but one prerequisite, one single aspect that was, to him, essential. The lady, whoever she might be and wherever she might come from, must love a book as ardently as he did. She must be a devourer of words, a lover of stories, a woman, not too highly academic as to induce terror in her husband, but a person improved enough to be equal to enjoying a book and perhaps later discussing it.
Dr.Wellscott’s books, though too few to constitute claims to the collection being a library, were his most valued possessions.Though it was only nominally impressive, he prized his small selection of volumes above any other material thing. He was heartened to find therefore, on appraising the small drawing room that was newly his own at the house he was to occupy at Sanditon, that one alcove to the right of the chimney breast housed a handsome breakfront bookcase which seemed designed exactly, by way of its capacity, to hold his own most treasured publications.
Charlotte’s immediate liking for both Dr. Wellscott and his nurse allowed a momentary warmth to settle in her troubled heart.Wellscott, amongst the eager party of guests, conducted himself with affability and Maisie, although of a timid appearance, impressed Charlotte by giving the impression of there being more to her spirit, her character, and her history than could ever be revealed during so brief an acquaintance. She was a small, pink-faced young woman, with more of the girl about her than her age might otherwise have dictated. It was thought she was around four and twenty, but there was to be no more clarity on the subject than that. She was a watchful creature, her dark eyes seemed always to be darting around the room, they sparkled when a joke was told and were the very illustration of sympathy when tales of woe were recounted.“I have ne’er seen such eyes as hers,” thought Charlotte.“They are so apparently open, so easily they convey sincerity, yet … am I deceived by her? Could such eyes delude me? I fear they could, but hope they do not, for I like her; I like her very well, indeed.”
Oh, dear Charlotte Heywood. Would not you think, reader, that her tendency to evaluate people and circumstances with no foundation to do so might now have been abated by her mistaken assessment of Sidney Parker? Would not you have hoped that a lesson needing desperately to be learned had now been learned? But Charlotte, whose faults were no more evil than are characteristic of a good deal of humans, was not ready to reform yet, she was cut out for quick judgment, overanalysis, and ill-formed conclusi
ons. The peculiarity lies in the fact that, although she was often wrong, there were occasions when she was not. But to speak so is to condemn poor Maisie, to presume, Heywood style, that the girl was a keeper of secrets. And so, for the sake of judging steadily, we must be resigned to form our own opinions, to allow time to offer us all the facts.
There was certainly a look about Maisie that one would not expect to see in a person who lacked the advantage of education, there was in her eyes a substantial degree of intelligent scrutiny, a bright intensity it might be called. Recognition showed in them when various matters, which were thought to be beyond her comprehension, were raised. On these subjects she never commented, while her eyes proved her understanding, her words were not about to reveal it. She remained quiet, speaking only when prompted and while the world about her talked incessantly, on this matter or that, she merely smiled. She could not be described as beautiful. But it can justly be said that the criteria for such an accolade is generally so obscure and so prone to rapid change as to make it almost an impossibility for any woman to lay claim to it with any assurance of its being permanent. Even those who are judged fair often struggle to live up to the honor.
Maisie’s features were pleasing although not fine, her hair, her complexion both tolerably good by way of her youth and her demeanour and manners were by no means lacking.Yet, despite all that was in her favor, there seemed an air of deficiency about her, a difficulty in expressing herself that Charlotte, at least, felt compelled to appease. “If she would only speak a little more, I am convinced I should find her amiable and equally persuaded that for her own comfort it would be beneficial to make at least one friend,” thought she.
CHAPTER 24
Dinners held in honor of one particular guest put a very definite stress upon the recipient, lucky though they may feel themselves in being so singled out, there can be nothing worse than sensing that expectations must be lived up to. Dr.Wellscott was no exhibitionist, and fortuitous this was indeed, for Mr. Parker, secure, elevated, and puffed up out of all reasonable proportion, was always ready to display himself and his beloved Sanditon to best advantage when in the comfort of his own home. A brief speech was all that was demanded of the good doctor.
“Nothing lengthy, my dear fellow, no need to talk yourself hoarse, but I do feel our party would appreciate it. You are an important addition to our town, Sir, unceremonious though we are here, there are some formalities worth adhering to, they pay dividends,” said Mr. Parker. And so it was that Dr. Wellscott, quite perplexed by the prominence his arrival seemed to be acquiring, prepared a written guideline for himself in order that his address might be delivered with apparent ease.
The assembly went off well. Wellscott talked, smiled, nodded, and enthused tirelessly. He spoke charmingly to all the ladies present and found himself, by the end of the evening, to be quite the favorite. By the end of his first week, he had been entirely swamped by Sanditon’s headaches, ill humors, backaches, and sprains. Illness, imagined or actual, found its way to his door, he soothed febrile brows and troubled minds, gave out pastes and pills, and no less than sixteen bottles of linctus in one afternoon alone. Mr. Parker, as soon he had the chance to inquire as to the doctor’s progress, was eager to be the first to hear the report.
“It was a very good week’s work,Tom, and only the one fever case needing the blood let out and that was Mrs. Leatham who fancies herself melancholy one day and choleric the next. I am no eager phlebotomist, Mr. Parker, but what must be done must be done and the lady, I am glad to say, felt the benefits immediately. She has inordinately obliging skin, very pale skin, and the veins are the easiest in the world to locate. Oh! I see you squirm, Mr. Parker, forgive me, I forget myself with matters of the body. I comprehend your aversion, I really do.The finer points of my profession used to affect me in the same way, I am more accustomed to the functions of human beings now but as I say, I do not let the blood without regretting the need to. Thankfully I am not often obliged to pick up a lancet or a fleam!” said Dr.Wellscott.
“The tools of your trade quite confound me,” said Mr. Parker, clearly shaken,“but I daresay you have the measure of them all.”
“For the most part, my dear man, I find instruments alarming. The brutality of them always impresses me greatly. Nevertheless, we doctors are lured into liking our implements by way of their being so well-crafted. There is much to recommend an ebony-handled scalpel so long as one does not too long consider its impact on the flesh.”
“Ah, on the subject of apparatus, did I ever mention that Lady Denham keeps a chamber-horse? It belonged to her first husband, Mr. Hollis. I cannot vouch for its being well-crafted, I do not think I ever saw the thing, but I hear of it from time to time and understand that it could be had on reasonable terms. I can report nothing of its benefits. It did not do the owner much good, Sir, he is dead.”
“Sir, I do not recollect any mention of a chamber-horse, but let us fix it that I shall not advocate the use of one. A chair on boards can never imitate a first-rate animal. The very thought of indoor riding seems to me ridiculous. One must be starved of air. I never knew a good man mount a chamber-horse in all my days.”
“Might not some of the ladies prefer the solitude and privacy of the indoors though, Sir?”
“If they intend to forgo dignity and ride without being obliged to sit to the side, then I daresay the confines of four walls and drawn blinds would be considered a blessing.”
“Surely, Sir, no lady deserves the title who would abandon her dignity in such a manner, privately or otherwise.”
“You understand then my failure to see any benefit in those machines. What has such a contraption to offer that a good brisk walk and fresh air cannot provide?”
Mr. Parker nodded solemnly. “I am entirely in agreement with you, Dr.Wellscott, entirely.”
Enamored were the sick, intrigued were the healthy and Dr.Wellscott, by the beginning of his second week in practice, rejoiced in the glow that a flourishing new business must always excite.Almost immediately Maisie found her duties increased. She mixed liquids, ground powders, steeped bandages, and took samples. In addition, she visited.The feeble and the hardy all clamored to have Dr.Wellscott’s good nurse attend them and the sight of her purposefully scurrying form dashing from one house to another during the day became so regular and accepted that very soon it was hard to imagine that she had not always been there.
Sanditon, you see, was an embracing town, a place with an affectionate grasp, an allure, an indescribable means of capturing the spirit.To its salty bosom, even the coolest heart could not help but be enfolded. Its very air and sounds mesmerized. Gulls screeched overhead, sea spray spattered the buildings leaving rusty tears trickling from windows.Waves crashed or gently rolled and fishing boats slept on the shore. It was beguiling and was set to become more so now that it could boast expertise in the area of medicine.
Lady Denham, still indisposed, was eager to see the doctor so long as fees could be kept “reasonable.” Moreover, she was gladdened by the prospect of having weekly visits from his nurse. “She will be a great comfort, and should she feel inclined I daresay she might read to me,” said Lady Denham to the doctor.
“Ah, my dear Lady Denham,” cried he, “my nurse does not read. I hope this will not disappoint you.”
Resigned, but not discouraged, Lady Denham said,“Then I shall read to her, when it suits me, and there is our solution! Send the girl on Wednesdays! Pray warn her of my state, the old can shock the young. Decay is wholly unattractive.Youthful eyes oft see their own mortality when they witness it in others.Vanity I am beyond, but insensible I am not, I would not wish to alarm.” All this from a woman who, to the good doctor, seemed hearty enough for her seventy-odd years. Her eyes were as bright as could be expected and when she wished some book or object to be nearer to her she removed swiftly from her chair and got herself about the room in order to retrieve it with more than a little spring in her step.
CHAPTER 25
Habits, good and bad, are formed quickly. Routines and regimes are decided upon and enforced with startling rapidity.Wednesday, habit now had it, was to be Maisie’s day for visiting Lady Denham. Thursdays would see her attending Mrs. Griffiths who, despite never having suffered a day’s serious illness in her life, found that her spirits were somewhat depleted by Miss Lambe’s absence.The Miss Beauforts provided little comfort there; each was so wrapped up in the other that they paid scant attention to their guardian.And so, for the most part, Mrs. Griffiths contented herself with the letters she received from Miss Lambe.
For two days in a row Maisie was to be read to; Wednesdays were devoted to the poetic; the odes of Collins, tales from Crabbe, and Cowper’s “The Castaway” were all read with feeling and listened to with fervor, but on Thursdays, how different a style of story she would hear. Miss Lambe’s letters intrigued her and she felt, by way of Mrs. Griffiths’s tireless description of their writer, that she knew young Miss Lambe as well as any person she had actually met. Eastbourne! What a haven it sounded. Miss Lambe was having treatment there but it was mentioned by Mrs. Griffiths that a lot of inconvenience might have been avoided had Dr.Wellscott been brought to Sanditon sooner.“Then my dear Miss Lambe would have been able to stay here, but,” said she with a smile both knowing and secretive, “if she had, then a certain event, a certain rather pleasing development might never have taken place.” Imprudent though it might have been for Mrs. Griffiths to speak so of her charge’s personal life, Maisie relished every detail.