Oh, Hear the Wedding Bells Ring!

"Mama, hurry up! We will be late!" Maria's voice was anxious as she rushed down the hall and into our mother's bedroom, where I was helping Mama dress for the wedding.

"Child, 'tis only eight o' clock! The wedding does not begin until ten! Why are you so anxious?" Mama turned from her dressing table to look at her daughter's face, her countenance puzzled.

Maria did not answer, for was standing before the mirror fixing her curls for the tenth time.

"She is eager to be on time because a certain someone may be at the wedding..." I said teasingly, my voice low. 

Maria's cheeks heightened in color, but she tossed her head as if she did not know of what I was talking and retied one of her pink ribbons. 

"Such nonsense," she said lightly. "I am to be an old maid, remember?"

I didn't reply, but I doubted very much that she would remain alone all of her days. 

"Besides," Maria continued, still preening in front of the glass, "it is our own Aunt Georgie's wedding--why, we should be there at least an hour early! We are family, after all. Do I have to have an ulterior motive just to see my own aunt?"

"Maria, she is the Darcys' aunt, not ours'. We have met her but two or three times... we certainly are not as close as Liza and Lizzy are," I admonished practically. "We shall arrive with the rest of the wedding guests--no one will need us before then."

My sister turned back to her hair with a petulant frown. "Mama?" 

"Evelyn is correct, Maria," Mama said sternly. "Now go and see if breakfast is ready, dear."

Maria flounced out of the room, a bit of her former prissiness returned.

"Do you know why Maria is so adamant about arriving early?" my mother questioned me when we were alone. I was surprised that she had even taken notice of Maria's strange behavior. Mama normally concerned herself only with our gowns, ribbons and prospective beaus; anything beyond that was of little matter to her.

"Oh Mama," I said kindly. "You know as well as I that Maria loves to prepare for a formal event. It is in her nature. Naturally, she does not want to be late. That is all."

Mama satisfied herself with that as she finished her dressing. I put on the charming lavender silk I had been saving for this occasion, and sighed as I withdrew my new bonnet from its wrappings. I wondered if Edmond would like it on me, then blushed to be thinking of such things. Silly girl, I scolded myself. This is to be Aunt Georgie's day, and all eyes are to be focused on her--not you. Now fix that ribbon and go downstairs like a good girl... and not one more thought about Mr. Kingsley, mind you! I smiled at myself in the mirror, knowing full well that not thinking about Edmond was easier said than done. 

~ ~ ~

Pulling my bonnet from my head, I stepped into the pretty country church where the wedding was to take place. It fit Aunt Georgie just perfectly. I began searching among the crowd for a familiar face, but my searching seemed to be in vain.

"Hello, Miss Evelyn."

I jumped as someone behind me spoke, then relaxed when I realized it was Edmond Kingsley. I extended my hand and he bent to kiss my gloved fingers lightly. 

"It's good to see you," I said, smiling up at him. "But why are you here? I did not know you knew Aunt Georgie." 

"Oh no, I have not had the pleasure of meeting your aunt yet--"

"My cousins' aunt," I corrected.

"My apologies," Edmond said. "You refer to her so often as "Aunt Georgie," so I assumed you were related. But, enough about that. I have been a good friend of Matthew Clock's for some time, and I came here today because he would not allow otherwise." He grinned. "How could I refuse?"

"Well, I am glad you did," I said softly, blushing slightly. But Edmond noticed my somewhat-anxious eyes, and he questioned me about them.

"Is something wrong, Eva?"

"I'm looking for Pierre DeJohns," I replied. "My sister Maria will be heartbroken if he is not here."

"Isn't she the sister who--"

"Fainted at the Darcys' ball? Yes," I finished for him. "But she is much changed now. She no longer harbors any affection for Mr. Smith, other than that of a friend. Her heart lies elsewhere."

"She is not acting too quickly again, I hope?"

"Not at all. Pierre and she are good friends."

"Very good friends," Edmond said, nudging me. I turned and spotted Maria already sitting in one of the pews, speaking with Mr. DeJohns. Her face was alight with happiness, and they seemed to be having a most interesting conversation."

"If you will excuse me, Edmond, I think I'd best go get my sister so that we may sit down. Mama and Papa will be wondering where we are."

"Of course, Eva." He tipped his hat, then went to sit down himself. I managed to get Maria to come sit down with the rest of us, although not without some difficulty. 

A hush came over the church as Aunt Georgie made her way down the aisle on the arm of her brother, since their father had passed away many years before. Her dress was absolutely breathtaking, and her happiness made her radiant beyond comparison. Mr. Clock had eyes for no one but his beautiful bride as he watched her walking slowly toward him. 

The wedding ceremony was beautiful. I noticed not just one sniff coming from the audience as both Aunt Georgie and Mr. Clock said their vows. How beautiful, I thought as Mr. Clock kissed Aunt Georgie sweetly on the cheek. The way they looked at each other was just precious--I could see so much love shining through the two pairs of eyes.

After the ceremony, and many hugs and kisses to family and friends alike, the newlyweds climbed into their carriage. Big white satin bows, flowers, and many ribbon streamers hung from the vehicle, and all of this festive decoration fluttered in the wind as the carriage made its way down the country road, 'round the bend, and were gone.

Pierre Comes to Call

I was passing through the halls one morning, looking gloomily out the windows at the pouring rain. I had intended on taking my daily walk, but the rain had made that impossible. Every time I tried to sit down and read or do a bit of stitchery, I found it hard to concentrate. I was just about to go in search of Maria, in the hopes that she would have an idea as to how to spend our afternoon, when the maid entered.
"There's a gentleman at the door, miss," she said, curtsying. "He's inquirin' after Miss Maria."
"Tell him he may come in," I said, curious as to who this gentleman may be. I knew that Edmond was out of town for a week on business, and besides, the man was here to see Maria and not I.
"Mr. De Johns, miss," the maid said softly, interrupting my scattered thoughts. A tall gentleman with dark hair stood behind her.
"Pierre!" My voice was shocked.
"Miss Wickham," Pierre said politely, removing his dripping hat and bowing. "I, er... would Miss Maria be in the house?"
"Yes, she is here," I responded quickly. "Please, do sit down. I will go and fetch her."
"Thank you," he said, taking a seat by the fire.
I turned and left the room quickly, trying to think where my sister might be.
I soon found Maria in the bedroom we shared, reading a book. She looked up when I entered.
"What is it, Eva?"
"Mr. De Johns is here to see you."
Her face colored. "Here? To see me?"
I nodded, then took her hand. "Come, he's waiting."
Maria allowed me to drag her along the halls until we reached the parlor once more.
"My sister, Mr. De Johns," I said politely, curtsying.
Pierre rose from his seat, a wide smile on his face. "Miss Maria!"
Maria's cheeks turned pink once more, but she smiled a small smile. "It was good of you to come, Mr. De Johns, especially in such horrid weather."
"I didn't mind the rain a bit," Pierre assured her. Then they fell to conversing like old friends. I slipped out of the room quietly, a smile on my face.

Of Weddings And Other Matters

"Oh Mama, we have so many weddings to attend... how shall we do it?" Maria said one afternoon. She had been sitting by the fireplace, sketching complacently, but suddenly stood and put down her pencil. "Do you think it would be all right to wear the same dresses to each?" she asked, her tone worried. For all that she had changed after the incident with Leland Smith, clothes still ranked high in importance in her mind.

"Oh dear, I hadn't thought of that," Mama said worriedly. "There is Miss Georgiana Darcy's wedding, and then Miss Liza's, and then Miss Rosie's..."

"Don't forget Lizzy's wedding," I reminded her. We had just received word of Lizzy's engagement to Captain Milton that morning.

"Oh yes, and Lizzy's," Mama agreed. "How on earth shall we do it?"

"I'm sure it will be fine, Mama," I said, patting her hand reassuringly. "After all, they are all family affairs--it is not as if we have to impress anyone. We shall just be ourselves."

"Yes, but dresses!" Mama said impatiently. "I shall ask your father if he can afford to purchase several new gowns for each of you."

"Oh Mama, that won't be necessary," I interupted. "My emerald silk will do just fine for all of the weddings."

"But Miss Georgiana's is sure to be outside, and you can't wear such a dark gown to an outdoor wedding!" Mama protested. "You will need a light colored one."

"Mama, I purchased a lavender gown about a week ago, and with my emerald silk, that will be all I need." I set my jaw firmly. "I can't allow you to spend money on me when it is not needed. Maria?" I looked to my younger sister, hoping that she would back me up.

"Well..." she said reluctantly. I could tell that she would have wanted to purchase a new gown; several, even. Maria had quite a fondness for finery. But, she knew we couldn't be frivolous. Mama had been known to spend more than we could afford when it came to her favorite daughter's apparel. "I'll do just fine with my grey silk," she said slowly, sighing.

"Maria, I think I have a gown in my wardrobe I don't wear anymore," I said thoughtfully. "It's a very light pink, and a bit small for me... perhaps it will fit you. Would you like to try it on?"

Maria's eyes lit up. "Oh yes, thank you, Eva!" she said. "May I go now, Mama?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Mama conceded. We both left the room eagerly in the pursuit of the gown.

The gown was perfect, and Mama even had a pearl necklace that matched it perfectly. Maria was all alight with eagerness for the wedding, now that the issue of proper attire had been resolved.

A Garden Discussion

It was only three days before Aunt Georgie's wedding, and I was anxiously awaiting the happy day. Maria and Mama had bestowed all their time on the wedding, and Aunt Georgie was very gracious towards their always willing, if not useful, help. I devoted my time to taking lovely strolls through the parks and gardens of London, drinking in the delicious scents of the rosebushes. Bekah often joined me in these walks, and her presence was always very welcome.

One morning I awoke early, dressed silently, and slipped out of the house. I strode down the still-quiet streets, heading towards one of the large public gardens. I was concentrating on the beautiful foliage around me, and I failed to recognize the pretty strawberry-blonde girl who was sitting sullenly on a small bench.

"Lizzy?" I asked in surprise, recognizing my cousin.

She lifted her large blue eyes to my face, two tears shining in them.

"Lizzy, dearest, what is wrong?"

"You have heard, I assume, about Liza and Lee?"

"Oh, yes," I answered, still confused. "Isn't it splendid?"

"Indeed," she answered quietly, although her voice suggested otherwise.

"Lizzy, why are you crying here?"

"It is the only place I could go where I could be... alone. Oh, it is not fair!" I almost jumped at her sudden outburst. "Lee and Liza's romance turned out perfectly! Just like a fairytale. And mine..."

I sat quietly, listening.
"It's Captain Milton," Lizzy spoke quickly.
"Captain Milton." Ah, now I understood. Captain Milton was an aquaitance of Lee's, and Lizzy had been introduced to him at a ball back home. From my understanding, she had been immediately disgusted by him at their first meeting. But over the time we had been in London, Lizzy's opinion towards Captain Milton seemed to have altered. Her tone when she spoke of him became softer and less harsh, and she was less inclined to think ill of him. I had sensed that something was going on between them.
"What about Captain Milton?" I asked softly.
"He... he's leaving. Today."
"Why does that bother you, Lizzy? You often spoke of him in such tones that gave me the feeling that you disliked him."
"I do!" she almost shouted. I jumped a little, then shivered in the chilly, early morning air.
"I do," she repeated again, this time softer. "Or, at least I think I do. He was such a gentleman at the ball..."
"Lizzy, do you remember the story about Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Darcy?"
She turned to me, understanding in her eyes.
"Aunt Lizzy strongly disliked Uncle Darcy at their first meeting, the same as you and Captain Milton,"--she blushed when I put her name together with his--"and Uncle Darcy felt as though Aunt Lizzy's position in life was decidedly below his. But, after a while, they began to understand the love they had for the other. Uncle Darcy realized this first, and he proposed, but in a very disagreeable manner. Aunt Lizzy refused him. It took some time, but after a while--and after Uncle Darcy started behaving in a less-haughty manner--Aunt Lizzy realized that she loved him. And when he proposed a second time..."
"... she accepted him," she finished for me.
"Yes," I said.
"Eva..." Lizzy spoke slowly. "Perhaps Captain Milton and I are acting in the same manner."
"Indeed," I said, a smile coming to my face. "Now, shall we go to our separate homes? I am sure we must be the cause of much angst--leaving this early, without a note to anyone."
"Yes, you are right," Lizzy answered. She too was smiling. "And, perhaps, we can arrive home before Captain Milton leaves..."

All is Revealed ~ Part 2

The next morning I awoke to find myself in my bed at our townhouse. I could hear the carts clattering down the street and the whistle of the wind 'round the house. Suddenly, I sat up straight in my bed, recalling the events of the previous evening. I wondered how my little sister was doing this morning, and at that moment I decided to check on her. Rolling over in my bed, I turned to face her. Maria's face was pale and streaked with tears. Her lashes gently brushed her cheek as she opened her eyes and glanced over at my bed. "Oh, good morning, Eva," she said sheepishly, finding me to be awake.

I got up from my bed and walked over to hers. Sitting on the edge, I pulled Maria into my arms and stroked her tangled curls.

"Dearest," I began. "Do you think you could let me know what has been troubling you?"

Maria sighed in consent, then began:

"When I met Mr. Smith at that ball last winter, I found him to be a most gentlemanly person, very polite and obliging. I got it into my head that I loved him and that he was in love with me. What I took to be love, he only intended as politeness, and now I see it was no more than that. But, at the time, I was not to be brought down from my dream. I was in love — what could be more splendid?

"Well, when I learned he was to be in London, I persisted constantly that we should go as well. Aunt Georgiana's wedding was the perfect excuse. You know Papa saw right through me, but he consented anyway, to please me and Mama. 

"Even before we left, I started sending the letters. Letting him know I was here, wondering if he could come see me, things like that. I am ashamed to admit that I got more "romantic" with each letter. It embarrasses me to recall what I wrote in those foolish notes," and at that, Maria pressed her hand to her forehead despairingly. She then continued. "But the only thing that troubled me slightly is that I never once received a reply.

"The night of the Darcys' ball, I knew I had to be there to see Leland. So, with no thought of proper manners or propriety, I showed my great enthusiasm at seeing him. And... well, you know the rest." Maria concluded her story with a sad glance up at my face, as if to ask if I meant to scold her. I could not find it in my heart to scold her at this moment, so I simply continued to stroke her hair.

After about five minutes had passed, I looked down at Maria. Her face was slightly distraught, as if she feared to tell me something.

"What is the matter, Maria?" I asked gently.

"Well... I don't want this to end in the same fashion as... well, the situation with Mr. Smith, but... Eva, tell me right now if you think it is wrong of me to enjoy Pierre De Johns company?"

"Maria," I began. "From what I know of Mr. De Johns, he seems to be a most respectable gentleman. I find no fault with him. But..." I said in a warning tone, "take care not to assume that he loves you or cares for you more than he has expressed."

"Oh, I won't, Eva!" Maria said quickly. "It is just a friendship. I do not desire to be married, ever. I think I shall die an old maid."

Her reply brought on a fit of giggles in both of us, which sent Mama scurrying down the hall to our door.

"Girls, girls, is something the matter?" she asked with alarm.

"Oh no, Mama," Maria said, smiling up at me. "Everything is just splendid!"

All Is Revealed ~ Part 1

Edmond chased after Mr. Hornburg, catching his coattails. 

"For shame!" he said to the quivering man. "Behaving so rudely to a woman and then, when you are found to be a scoundrel and a cheat, you try to run away! You are a spineless man who does not deserve to be called a gentleman!"

I jumped a little and shivered. This was a side of Edmond that I had never seen before.

Just then, Rosie ran to us. I quickly explained the situation to her, quaking as I described Mr. Hornburg's behavior. She put her hand in mine and squeezed it, soothing me. Then suddenly, she dashed back into the crowd, returning with a man whom she introduced as Mr. Pierre De Johns, the elder brother of Amae. I nodded my head towards Mr. De Johns, but I was much too distressed to curtsy and introduce myself.

Rosie began addressing Mr. Hornburg, her voice soft and sweet, though the words she spoke were fiery with their hatred. Mr. De Johns seemed ready to let out a laugh; he glanced at Rosie several times, a smile on his face as if he found her speech comical. 

Mr. Hornburg, however, did not seem to be enjoying Rosie's tirade. He sneered at me, then Rosie, then Edmond, then back at me. Then his eyes seemed to catch something in the distance, and he looked past us, over my head, with a triumphant smile on his face. I turned and saw Amae herself hurrying towards us.

"Pierre? Rose? What are you doing to my husband?" Amae choked out her question through her tears, and her words were barely louder than a whisper.

"Amae, don't cry," Mr. Hornburg started to say, his voice barely disguising his disgust.

"Amae, don't go to him. He is a liar and a cheat." Rosie spoke with authority. Amae's eyes were now drawn to her face, and then to Pierre's. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Hornburg trying to slip away.

"Edward, what are you doing?"asked Amae. Mr. Hornburg turned, startled, and then, sighing with a look of defeat, allowed himself to be lead out of the room by Pierre.

I realized that I had never once danced during this whole ball. It had all been very frustrating and emotional, what with Maria fainting and Rosie's revelation about Mr. Hornburg and then Mr. Hornburg trying to fool me into thinking he was Edmond... I glanced at the clock on the wall and realized that it was just now nine o' clock. This evening had seemed to last so long, and yet it was now barely begun. Thinking of Edmond, I turned towards him. A smile was on his face.

"Would you care to dance, Miss Wickham?"

"I would be delighted, Mr. Kingsley." 

And we whirled away into the other swirling dancers, no longer outsiders, but now apart of them. And soon, I forgot about the troubles and trials we had experienced before, only that it was all over now and that I was dancing with the man I loved.

Heartbreak Comes Quickly ~ Part 3

Rosie then went on to reveal that she had met Edward Hornburg before, during the period of time that she had attended a boarding school in Paris. I listened in shock as she related how both she and Amae had witnessed his angry shouting at a young girl in the school's courtyard. The scene she described sounded shockingly similar to Amae's situation: the gentleman makes the young lady fall in love, persuades her to elope, and then steals her dowery and is never heard of again. 

"But this cannot be true!" I gasped. "Surely he has changed-"

"Evelyn, he has not changed," Rosie insisted. "How can you even consider that when you see how he looks at her? Not with love at all - no, rather like she is something to be bought and sold. It's awful, awful." And with that Rosie sank down to the ground with a despairing face. I was going to stroke her hair in an attempt to sooth her, but I saw a young red-headed gentleman approaching us with a hopeful look on his face. Rosie looked up and I saw her smile shyly. With one more glance in her direction, I left the room with a mysterious smile on my face.

"Miss Wickham!" I heard Edmond's voice call me. I whirled around and saw him with his arms stretched out towards me. "Do you care to dance?"

I felt a strange prick on my conscience that I ought to refuse, but I saw no way out. Walking slowly towards him, I took his hand gingerly, keeping at least a foot between us. 

"You seem a bit pensive, Miss Wickham," Edmond observed as we twirled.

"Sir, I find you changed."

"I know not why you should feel so."

"Well..." I looked up at him, searching for words. I noticed that his eyes were green. That's odd, I thought. I was sure they were brown. And how would he know my last name? 

"Did you like the flowers I sent?"

"Yes - and the note was very nice. But sir..."

"What is it, Miss Wickam?" he asked, curious.

"Sir, it is not at all proper that you should behave so. I am but eighteen!"

"I see no harm. You love me. I love you. Why should we not express our emotions?"

"But, sir-" I paused as I realized what he had just said. "Sir, when did I ever tell you that I loved you?"

"Of course you did not put it that clearly, but I know what you feel." He smiled, but something in his smile was off. An edge of menace was there - slight, but clear. And then he reached down towards my face, in an attempt to stroke my cheek. I stepped back once more, an expression of disgust on my face. This did not seem like Edmond, at least not the Edmond I had met. I spoke once more.

"Your eyes are green," I began, listing each fact. "You behave with much less decorum. You display a tendency towards an improper display of affection. And how do you know my name? I only told you my first name, yet all you have called me this evening was Miss Wickham! I do not know who you are, but I know that you are not Mr. Kingsley! Shame on you!" And with that, the fury of my anger burnt out and I burst into tears, much to my chagrin.

"Edward Hornburg," I heard a voice behind us speak in a deep tone. Whirling 'round, I beheld Edmond, the real Edmond Kingsley. Without a thought to proper decorum, I flung myself into his arms.

"Evelyn, what is wrong?" he said, pulling me away and looking at my tear-stained cheeks.

"This gentleman has been trying to fool me into thinking he was you, Ed - I mean to say, Mr. Kingsley."

"I can see that," he said in a stern voice, staring at the other man who must have been Edward Hornburg. The smirk on Edward's face was gone, replaced with an expression of fear.

Edward glanced warily at Edmond once more, then back to me, and then, before I had time to blink, dashed off and disappeared into the sea of dancers.

Heartbreak Comes Quickly ~ Part 2

Mama gasped as Maria fell, all the color having left her face. Seemingly out of nowhere, two girls appeared to come to our assistance. I recognized cousin Rosie, my Aunt Mary's only daughter, but the other girl was unfamiliar. She had large blue eyes and pale blonde hair. 

"We must get her air," the unknown girl said to me, in a French accent. I nodded quickly, and helped her and Rosie support Maria's head. We lifted her to a couch out on the terrace balcony, from which we could still see the swirling dancers. I turned my head towards Rosie's French friend, wondering what her name might be. The girl was nervously twisting her hands in her lap, glancing nervously from Maria's ashen face on the pillow to Rosie's face.

"Eva..." Maria whispered hoarsely.

"I'm here, Maria," I answered.

To the others, I said, "We must move her to a bed. I am sure Lizzy will not mind us putting Maria in her room." Rosie nodded, glancing once more at Maria. "But none of us are strong enough to carry her!" I said despairingly. "Who can help lift her?"

"I would be honored to be of service, madam," a gentleman said. I whirled and looked up at a man I instantly knew to be Mr. Gould, the man cousin Lizzy seemed to admire very much a while ago, but now despised for some unknown reason. Her letters had given me a little insight as to his looks, and this gentleman matched the description exactly. 

"Yes, thank you, sir! She just fainted - lack of air, I think, a case of too many people in one room-"

"I can lift her to a bed," the gentleman said.

"Maria," I whispered to my sister. "This kind gentleman is going to take you upstairs, dear. I think you should lie down."

She nodded weakly and made no protests when he lifted her into his arms.

Cousin Lizzy met us on the stairs, a look of alarm on her face when she took in my sister, pale and sickly-looking, in Mr. Gould's arms.

"What happened?" She asked.

"Maria fainted. She apparently was in love with Lee and he was not in love with her. She took his actions too seriously."

We took Maria to Lizzy's bed, where she seemed to be reviving. I left her there in the care of Mama and a very trusty maid of my aunt's. Mr. Gould had bowed, introduced himself, expressed his wishes as to her speedy recovery, and then rejoined the party. Lizzy had also come in and convinced me to rejoin the dancers. I gave her a grateful smile and left. But I did not intend to dance... not right away, at least.

I looked for Rosie on the stairs, but I could not find her. Locating her among the many people in the ballroom would be impossible. That's when I heard a small whisper. I recognized the sound of the French girl's soft voice.

"It ees not possible, Rosie," she said. "And I do not want to leave him. I love him!" Her voice sounded like it was about to break.

"Amae," I heard Rosie say gently. "I am not forcing you to end your marriage. It is just that you are so young..." Her voice trailed off.

"I will be eighteen next summer," Amae said stoutly. "Zat ees old enough, is it not?"

"Yes, but this Mr. Hornburg does not seem to be the most admirable of gentlemen, convincing you to elope..."

"He is ze finest, Rosie! Ze best! You leave me alone!" I heard Amae sobbing as she ran away.

I went softly down the stairs. Rosie was sitting underneath the staircase, looking pale and worried.

"What is wrong, Rosie?" I asked.

She seemed about to turn, but changing her mind, faced me. Her cheeks were stained with tears.

"Amae... Amae eloped with a man by the name of Edward Hornburg. We just learned of this a few days ago. Her father is searching for her."

My face went blank with shock. "But she seems such a nice girl! How could she-"

"She is nice, Eva!" Rosie was quick to defend her friend. "It is just... well, I think this gentleman is very affective in persuasion. She seemed absolutely swept off her feet in love with him, and she will not listen to reason!"

"She is married to this man?"

"Yes."

"Then what is wrong? Is not that enough to help repair her honor?"

"Evelyn, listen! He is not a man to be desired! I know this Edward Hornburg!"

My face went pale.

Heartbreak Comes Quickly ~ Part 1

I stepped quickly out of the carriage, turning to offer my hand to Maria to help her out of the vehicle as well. We had arrived at the Darcy's. Papa was standing as though he was strict and stern, but I knew he was pleased to be invited. Much had happened in the many years that had passed since Papa had attempted to elope with Aunt Georgie. Papa himself seemed to have changed; he was kinder and more generous. Uncle Darcy had cautiously invited him to this ball, in the hopes of renewing the friendship they had as boys. I smiled up at Papa, hoping that their camaraderie would be renewed this night.

Mama was beaming with pleasure that her daughters should be invited to such a fine ball, but she refused to admit that even a single piece of furniture was up to the standards of our home. "Tsk, tsk," she would complain. "This chair needs dusting," or "this sofa is entirely too fancy; quite spoils the sitting if one is always worried about ruining the furniture." Maria shot a sharp glance at Mama, her green eyes blazing. I knew that she did not want Mama to embarrass us even as much as I did. She pointedly brushed her gown and smoothed the ribbon in her hair. Nothing was to stop her from making her grand entrance tonight.

I too shook out my own gown, but not because I was worried about my entrance. I had overheard a conversation between a few gentlemen nearby, and I recognized one voice. The low voice of Mr. Kingsley rang back into my ears, and I blushed while trying to make myself look busy with my gown. Mama turned to me with a question in her eyes; I was not usually this awkward. I could tell that she was about to ask a question when I heard Maria scream.

"Leland!"

All heads turned to look in our direction. I blushed furiously at the attention, but I forced myself to look at Maria. Many emotions played across her face at this moment. Surprise, joy, anger, shock, disappointment, I counted off each one as it left her face. Surely she did not have any emotions left. But with a wild shriek, she tore herself from Mama's arms and flung herself into the swirling dancers.

"Leland!" she called once more.

And he turned. His face was surprised, but not particularly pleased. I could see him manfully hiding his disgust as Maria rushed at him.

"Oh, Lee, it's so wonderful to see you - did you never get my letters? - I was so worried - why, Leland, what on earth is wrong?"

Leland Smith withdrew from her embrace with a slight prying of Maria's arms.

"Miss Wickham," he said stiffly. "I never encouraged any of this behavior! Where would you get the idea that I -" he choked on the word - "loved you? When did I ever give you any reason to think that?"

Maria stepped back. In a shaky voice she said, "But - but, at that party-"

"I don't believe I was anything more than polite to you, Miss Wickham. I intended only courteousness, but I see you took more from my actions than I intended. I do not see how bringing you a towel when you spilled punch on your dress is love-" He stopped. "I am sorry, Madam. If you will excuse me." He bowed and walked away towards the Darcys.

It happened so quickly I barely had time to draw a breath. Maria shook, shuddered. Her face grew wild with pain. And then she collapsed.

The Excitement is Brewing

It was the night of the most glorious ball of the season. Uncle Darcy had decided to throw a ball. And not just any ball. This was a splendid occasion, to be held in the Darcys' luxurious townhouse. I got shivers down my spine every time I thought of it.

But something unsettled me that evening as I watched Maria dress for the party. She was wearing her silver-gray silk, and her curls were piled on the top of her head, extreme in their curliness. I had never gotten the chance to have a discussion with Maria regarding her strange behavior as of late, because the minute I stepped in after Edmond rescued me, Mama rushed her off to get new clothes for the ball, this silk gown among them. I had used the excuse of my ankle to stay home.

 Maria seemed to be back to normal, but a slight anxiety seemed to reign in her mind. Her hands fluttered anxiously and something seemed to be awry.

"What is wrong, dear?" I queried softly.

"Oh, nothing, Eva," Maria said, swiftly turning towards her jewelry box, so as to conceal her face. "Do you know where my silver chain is? I cannot seem to find it."

I realized that she was changing the subject, so I answered simply, "I believe it's on your nightstand, Maria."
Maria was almost dressed when Mama came in and motioned for me to come with her. "There are flowers at the door for you, dear," she said confidentially. Suddenly I felt my face grow warm.
"Here," Mama said, pressing a card into my palm. Then, with a beckoning motion to the servant, who was standing by the door, holding a bouquet of flowers, she whispered to me, "I believe it is from Mr. Kingsley."
I gasped at Mama's knowledge, then quickly glanced at the card she had put in my hand.
"Miss Evelyn," it said...


"I know not even your last name, and yet I know full well that my heart doth tremble when mine eyes see you. I hope that you will accept these roses as a token of my admiration." The note was signed "Your rescuer."


I frowned. Something about this note did not reflect the kind gentleman who had carried me home just yesterday. And the romantic, old-fashioned terms, though pleasing to the eye, did not seem very like the Edmond I knew. Mama did not notice my expression, for she was still exclaiming over the gorgeous roses, of which there seemed to be over a dozen. For a moment I forgot my misgivings in my rapture over the roses. They were gorgeous. I decided to wear one in my hair tonight.

The gown I planned to wear tonight was a deep emerald green. It shimmered as I put it on, contrasting beautifully with my dark curls and pulling out the green in my eyes. It was done in the new style, with a lower waist and sweeping train. I sighed in satisfaction as I glanced at myself in the mirror.
"Eva! Come quickly, dear! The carriage is here!"
I turned to place one of the roses in my twisted ringlets, then rushed from the room. I expected the door to slam sharply behind me, but it only closed with a soft thump. I didn't pause to go back and check what had caused that; instead I tripped daintily down to the waiting carriage. Maria was there, her cheeks a brilliant red from the chilly night and her curls piled on the top of her head. The night was dusky and romantic, and this time I felt both.

The Damsel in Distress and Her Knight in Shining Armor

I hurried out of the house, struggling to get my bonnet strings tied, trying to quickly escape the dreary hopelessness of Maria's unknown troubles. Her whole countenance, although much more sedate then was her usual nature, seemed to trouble me more than her previous persona. There was something so flat, so hopeless in Maria's quiet stillness and wakeful watching that I wanted to run away from it all, to shake my sister, to get her to speak. More than anything I wanted my sister to tell me the secret that seemed to chill her to her very core. 

Walking at a brisk pace down the street, I glanced idly at the shops, not interested in anything. I had planned on purchasing something for Aunt Georgie's wedding, but the thought of approaching any other human being right now, in my present mood, did not appeal. However, I knew I had to do something, so I forced myself to go into the next store, a small shop that sold bonnets, ribbons, and trim of that sort. I forced myself to look interested, and soon discovered that I no longer had to pretend - I was truly enjoying myself.

The store was quaintly decorated, without being showy, and I strolled luxuriantly around the store, looking for something that satisfied my tastes. Suddenly my eyes rested on the most beautiful bonnet, made of gleaming golden straw. It was tied with a wide satin ribbon, a ribbon that was the exact shade of lavender I needed - the color of my gown for the wedding. I felt a moment's hesitation; who knows how much this lovely headwear may cost? But it would do no good to guess. Meekly lifting the bonnet off of the display, I went to the counter at the front of the shop, where a rather gruff old man stood. His eyes seemed to glare out at me from under his bushy eyebrows, and for one moment I forgot my purpose in approaching him. But I swallowed quickly and opened my mouth to speak.

"Sir," I began softly. "How-how much would this bonnet cost?"

"That bonnet?" the gentleman said, still gruff.

"Yes, this is the bonnet I meant."

The older man seemed ready to frown, but then a smile lit up his face. "For you, madam, nothing."

I blinked, aghast. "You-you mean to tell me... that it does not cost anything?"

"No, no, you may take it."

"Sir, that-that would not be right of me."

"No, no, I insist upon it, miss. It will look lovely with those dark ringlets of yours." He motioned towards a curl that had escaped from the bonnet I was wearing.

"Oh! Oh, well, thank you, I thank you most gratefully, sir!" I gasped out.

"You are welcome, miss."

I turned to go, but then the gentleman called me. "Young lady! What would your name be?"

"Eva-I mean to say, Evelyn Wickham, sir."

"Wickham? Is your last name truly Wickham?"

"Yes, sir," I answered.

"Is your father's name George Wickham?"

"Yes, sir."

"I knew your grandfather," the gentlemen said softly. "We were great friends as boys."

"Sir," I said shyly. "What would your name be?"

"My name," he replied, "is Lowell. John Lowell."

My meeting with Mr. Lowell seemed to be an act of Providence. I walked out into the street, thinking things over. It was then that I happened to glance as the sky, then shrink back in dismay. The blue sky seemed to have disappeared, being replaced with heavy, dark clouds that seemed to glower at me. The whole climate threatened rain.

Luckily, my new bonnet was wrapped well in brown paper and tied with string. I worried not for my own attire, but rather for my lack of direction. As the sky grew darker, I began to have a sinking feeling in my heart about how to get back to out townhouse, into which we had recently moved, leaving the much-less tasteful inn. I turned this corner and that, but only succeeded in confusing myself more and more. By the time the first few raindrops began to fall, I was thoroughly, completely, and hopelessly lost. Just at that moment I slipped and twisted my ankle dreadfully.

Sinking down onto the walkway, I slipped around the corner into a small, uninhabited alley. There I awaited help, and the stop of the rain, whichever happened first. I tried to be optimistic, but as the rain poured down in torrents that seemed never to end, my situation began to feel more and more drab. My eyes brimmed with tears, and one or two spilled down my cheek.

"Madam, is something the matter?"

I jumped at the sound of the voice. Turning around, I beheld the most handsome gentlemen I had ever seen. He had dark curly hair, warm brown eyes, and a very reassuring manner. My heart started to beat wildly and I brushed the few tears away fiercely, enraged that this handsome stranger should see me crying. 

"Madam?" The gentleman was clearly still waiting for an answer.

"Oh-oh, no, no, I'm fine," I said quickly. 

"Pardon my interference, but you seem lost."

"Oh, well, you see, it's just my ankle. I will be fine-"

"No, no, I couldn't allow you to walk on that foot. Here, let me help you home." He held out his hand to me.

I grasped the man's hand gratefully. The stranger swept me into his arms and proceeded to carry me home, so as not to worsen the poor condition of my ankle.

"Where do you live, miss?"

"Just down the street. The address is 105 North-"

"Oh yes, I am very familiar with that area." He smiled down at me. I felt a warm heat creeping into my cheeks and realized I was blushing.

"Do-do you come to London much, sir?" I asked, by way of changing the subject.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do. I live just down there." He pointed down the street.

"Oh, that's a lovely house!"

"Yes, I quite like it myself. It has been in my family for years. Here is your house now, miss," he said, placing me lightly on the ground.

"Oh," I sighed, feeling regret that he had to leave. "Wait!" I called at his retreating figure. "What would your name be?"

The man turned. "My name is Edmond. Edmond Kingsley. And your name is..."

"Eva?!" Maria gasped in a shocked voice, staring out at me from her open window.

I quickly straightened my dress, hoping not to appear too bedraggled. Then I turned to my rescuer.

"Evelyn," I said with a small curtsy. "My name is Evelyn."

Edmond tipped his hat to me, then strolled back down the street. I turned, limping up the stairs while gripping the rail for support, and saw Maria staring at me from her window, her face full of misery and shock. My heart gave a quick stab of regret, which was then replaced with a determination to discover, once and for all, what was troubling my sister.

More Questions Left Unanswered

The evening of the Carter's party was dusky and "romantic" - the former my definition, the latter my sister's. I could tell that there was a certain giddiness to Maria as we were dressing in our bedroom - for once she didn't criticize Lillian's dressing skills. The maid seemed relieved at this, I reflected, and that made her less nervous around my critical younger sister, the result being an especially good job with Maria's extensive hairstyle. This, of course, put my sister in a lovely mood, and so we all dressed with an air of peace and contentment.

I had chosen for the evening my pearly gray taffeta, thinking to myself that it would never do to get dressed up more than that - the evening was not to be a formal affair. My curls hung around my face particularly well, to which Lillian cooed in satisfaction. 

My sister, of course, was the dictionary definition of "plumed." Her hair, twisted into a bewildering amount of tiny braids, was knotted and kinked until is could be no more knotted or kinked. She wore her sea-green dress, with the matching ribbons, and Lillian seemed satisfied that there would be no changing of gowns today. I watched in amazement as the maid pulled, seemingly out of thin air, a handful of white ostrich feathers and placed them in Maria's hair, to my sister's satisfaction. 

"But... Maria.. did Mama say-"

"Oh, Eva, don't spoil my fun!" Maria interrupted quickly. "Mama will be perfectly happy if I look my best - she does not care what elements I use to obtain that beauty."

I interrupted no more, but instead stared rather dully at myself in the mirror. Compared to my sister, I looked plain and dowdy. I had no feathers, no pearls, no braids. My only form of jewelry was my simple cross pendent. Mama constantly showered Maria with clothes and beads and jewelry of all kind, in the hopes of her making a "splendid match." Having expressed myself to be utterly against any of Mama's forms of matchmaking, I was simply "pushed to the side" sometimes to make room for Mama's second - and very willing - subject: Maria. 

With a straightening of my shoulders, I reflected that I did not want to be made into a doll. Besides, I was not going to this gathering to find a husband, as Maria seemed intent on doing. I was going to have fun. My sister had swept out of the room to present herself to Mama, and I followed her, suddenly feeling much better.

The evening party was a "great success," in every manner. The food was delectable and the talk was very entertaining. But something happened toward the end that seemed a bit strange. Maria was playing cards with a few of the young gentlemen, but she seemed pensive in spirit, constantly glancing at the door as if expecting someone to enter. When no one did, and the hour grew late, I nudged her to leave. Mama and Papa were putting on their cloaks, and it was clearly time to go. With a reluctant sigh, she rose and put on her cloak - but not willingly. 

The days continued like this. Maria would stare out of her bedroom window each and every day, only to be pulled away for meals and such. Her interest in gowns and ribbons seemed to wan, and she grew paler and more serious after each passing day. I began to feel a deep concern for my flighty sister - what could possibly be wrong? I knew it would do no good to ask, for all my efforts at unearthing this secret were in vain. And I had still never discovered why Maria had fainted on the day of our arrival...

The morning after the Carter's party dawned golden and rosy. The sky was a lovely soft blue, and the few clouds floated around airily, like downy puffs of cotton. The gorgeous climate seemed to beckon me out to take a stroll down the streets of London. I realized with a pang that I had never done this once, for we had been so busy with our unpacking that the idea had simply never occurred to me.
"I am going to take a walk about town today, Mama, if that is alright with you," I said at the breakfast table.
"Oh, yes, yes, of course, Eva," Mama replied hastily, while buttering a biscuit. Then she turned to Maria.  "What ails you, dear?" Mama asked questioningly. "You have not been yourself as of late. Is something the matter?"
"No, no, I am perfectly fine, Mama," Maria replied vaguely. "You shouldn't worry about me."
At this I turned from my plate of eggs to stare at Maria. This certainly was new. Since when did my sister care whether Mama worried about her or not?
"All the same," Papa said quietly. "You haven't been yourself lately, my daughter. Are you sure you do not wish to join your sister on her outing?"
"Yes, Maria, do come along," I added quickly. "The fresh air will do you well."
"No, no, I don't want to go. I have some stitching I wish to complete this morning."
Realizing that Maria seemed intent on staying home once more, I sighed quietly and left the table to retrieve my bonnet.

Morning With the Wickhams

It took me one minute after awaking to realize where I was. I awoke to the chiming of the clock. Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! It was six o' clock in the morning.

I rolled over in my bed and stretched. So this was how wealthy ladies felt when they woke in the morning. Lazy, luxuriant, and without a care in the world. I certainly felt that way at this moment. I stretched once more, than stepped out onto the balcony. The new morning in London needed proper greeting, such as what I normally gave to the sunrise at home.

When I stepped back into the room, I saw Maria standing by the floor-length mirror, fixing her hair. The maid, an Irish girl named Lillian, was watching nervously, hoping that Maria would issue no complaints.

"It-it's the best I can do, Ma'am," she was saying nervously.

"Yes, I can see that," Maria said slowly. "However, I don't think I look my best. Fix that ribbon, Lillian."

"Yes, o' course, Ma'am," Lillian said quickly. She arranged the sea-green ribbons again with nimble fingers, braiding the strands of silk in and out of Maria's ornately-twisted bun. 

"There, that will do," Maria said quickly. "Now for my gown."

Lillian took a gown of the same sea-green, starched until it could stand on its own, out of the wardrobe. The gown was be-frilled and be-ribboned as much as possible. I recognized it as Maria's best.

"Maria, if you wear that gown now... well, what do you plan to wear to the evening party tonight? Remember how Papa's old army friend, Mr. Carter, invited us to dine at his home tonight?"

"Miss Evelyn, Ma'am, perhaps you shouldn't have mentioned that-" Lillian said pleadingly.

"No, no, Eva is entirely correct, Lillian. Take out my sky-blue gown with the lacy ribbons, please."

With another despairing glance at me, the maid once more turned to the wardrobe. I felt a stab of pity for her and almost wished that I had held my tongue. But Maria had been wearing her best dress... and if she wore it now she could not wear it then... My conscience was pricking me from all angles, and I knew not what to do. I finally decided to just leave Maria and Lillian to their dressing and attend to mine.

I had decided on a white cotton gown with tiny pink roses sewn into the fabric. The high pink satin sash looked splendid in contrast, and I thought I would ask Lillian to arrange my curls with a ribbon of the same color. It was then that I overheard a conversation going on between the maid and my sister.

"Do you think Mr. Smith will think me beautiful, Lillian?" Maria asked.

"Aye, o' course, Miss Maria," the maid said, not daring to disagree, lest she anger her master's daughter. "Anyone can see that you are a very bonny girl," Lillian added hastily.

"Yes," said Maria in a condescending tone. "I am sure I must look my best. Therefore, you, Lillian, must do your best."

"I-I, o' course I will, Ma'am," answered Lillian. What else was the poor girl to say?

"Now, help me into that gown," Maria ordered.

As soon as she was in the other dress, Maria decided that she must change her hairstyle as well. After all, she pointed out, I couldn't possibly be expected to wear a sea-green ribbon with a sky-blue dress. What would people think of me? Lillian just nodded - as was her response to everything Maria said. Maria didn't like the way her hair was braided - Lillian nodded her assent to change it. Maria thought her shoes were too plain - Lillian went to retrieve another. After all, in the maid's way of thinking, she was the servant, and Miss Maria was the master's daughter. Nothing was too good for her.

I was attaching my small cross necklace around my neck when I heard my sister speak once more - and not to order Lillian around.

"I mean to make Leland ask me to marry him," Maria said placidly, forgetting to call him by his proper name. "What do you think, Lillian?"

"Well..." Lillian began. "I never went about making a man propose to me afore, but I am sure if any man could be induced to propose to a young lass, you would be the lass to do it, Miss Maria, Ma'am."

"Of course I could," said Maria, all the more placid. But suddenly she whirled 'round and looked with worried eyes at the maid. "But-but what if he can't be pushed into a marriage proposal? What if he is the type of gentleman who can't be forced to do anything? Uncle Darcy is that way, you know. And they are very good friends..." she added with a sigh, as if some of Uncle Darcy's character could somehow be rubbed off on those who were his close acquaintances. 

"I'm sure he likes you very much - Mr. Smith, that is," Lillian said hastily.

With an assured smile, Maria nodded her agreement and turned to the mirror, waving her hand to signal that she was done. And then she swept out of the room.

Sighing with relief, Lillian walked quickly to me to help me with my dressing.

"I know you must suffer much, taking all that trouble with Maria, Lilly," I said to her sadly.

"Oh no, Ma'am... I mean, I'm payed to do my job here, and, as me Mam always says when I arrive home each evenin', "it's all in a day's work." I don't like to complain, Miss Evelyn - that's the way I was raised."
I was shocked into silence at this selfless reply. "Doesn't she ever aggravate you?"
"Yes-and no," Lillian replied thoughtfully. "I see my place here as maybe, in some small way, having a chance to help Miss Maria. Your sister may be pretty vain," this said with a sad shake of her auburn head, "but she's got a heart, though she may hide it. You've just got to give her a chance, Miss Evelyn." Lillian sighed, then spoke to herself quietly. "I just hope she doesn't get her heart broken by that Mr. Smith."

Unanswered Questions

I was awoken from my slumber with a jolt. Mama was shaking me, trying to wake me from my sleep, and Maria was staring out the window, exclaiming at the size of the buildings she saw.

"Oh, look at that one! It's four stories! I never thought their could be a building so tall! And our townhouse... oh, I can just imagine how grand it must be!" Maria lay back with a dreamy look on her face.

"Dear..." Mama began. "Er... Your father decided that it would be best for us to stay at the inn while we await for our house to be..." she paused. "Ready."

Just at that moment the horses were reined to a stop in front of a rather shabby-looking building.

"You mean, I have to sleep in there?!" Maria gasped, looking with haughty disdain at the inn at which we had just stopped.

"Yes dear," Mama replied. "But I'm sure it will only be for a short while. Close your mouth, Maria." Maria snapped it shut. "That's better," Mama cooed. "You wouldn't want to appear as a codfish in front of any fine gentleman, now would you?"

But Maria wasn't fully convinced. "What chance do we have of finding wealthy gentlemen here?" she asked, clearly doubting that gentleman of high class ever graced the inns with their presence.
I smiled. I clearly remembered the story of how Uncle Darcy found Aunt Lizzy where she was staying at an inn. That was when my aunt had just learned of Mama's elopement. Clearly, if a gentleman wanted to visit Maria, he wouldn't let the rather shabby abode in which she was housed stop him - of that I was sure.
Luckily, Maria seemed to be more calm now. She fixed the ribbon on her bonnet and said with a smile, "Well, if any gentleman wishes to visit me, he will have to come to me." She spoke as if she could read the thoughts that had just run through my head.
Just then the coachman peeked into the carriage.
"Ma'am," he said, addressing Mama. "Mr. Wickham said to direct the servants to carry the luggage and he asked me," this said with an air of importance, "to escort you ladies to your rooms."
Maria and Mama didn't speak.
"Ladies?" the man questioned.
Still no response.
"Um... yes, of course, that would be lovely," I said quickly, seeing how my sister and mother were quite frozen in shock. "Thank you," I added to the coachman rather quickly, wondering what could be so shocking as to hold my mother's and sister's gaze for so long.
"Maria? Mama?"
Maria answered by fainting right then.

"Maria? Maria? Dear, are you quite alright?" Mama was getting to be nearly frantic now.
Maria's eyes blinked open. I could see them rolling sickeningly for a second, and then she suddenly seemed to remember where she was.
"Mama? What - what am I doing on the ground?" Now that she was awake, all of my sister's disdain seem to return.
"You - you fainted," Mama gasped. "And I don't know what I would have done without you!" At this, Mama began to weep. "Don't - don't you ever do that to me again! I was worried to death!"
"Mama, it's alright," I said in a soothing voice. "Maria is fine, see?"
"Yes, yes, I can see, I have eyes, don't I?"
"Of course you have eyes, Mama. I only meant -"
"Oh, never mind what you meant, child," Mama said. "Maria is fine, and there is no need for you to worry about your sister so." As if I had been the one in need of consolation! I swallowed the urge to smile.
"Get me off of the ground!" Maria said, interrupting my train of thought. With the help of two housemaids who had come out to help with the luggage, and the coachman, we were able to successfully lift her into the inn, up the stairs, into the room she and I were to share, and finally, onto one of the beds. Once there, Mama exited to her own room that she was to share with Papa, and the housemaids left with a rather apologetic smile.
When the room was finally empty, I turned to Maria, who was lounging like a queen on her bed.
"Whatever made you faint, Maria?" I asked her. "Did - did something frighten you?"
"No, no, do you think I would faint at that?" Maria questioned, a bit of color coming into her formerly pale cheeks.
"I don't. But if you could tell me what made you and Mama... um, freeze up so, then perhaps I could help you!"
"Nothing is wrong now. It was a matter of little importance that bares no relevance now," Maria said coldly.
And with that, I had to be content.

Maria's Sister

The carriage shook and rattled as we bumped along the windy road to London. I would have taken out my sketchbook and done a sketch in charcoals, but I feared that the drawing would smudge dreadfully with all the bouncing. Instead, I turned my attention to Maria, who was talking animatedly to Mama about what awaited all of us in London... or rather, what awaited her in London. She seemed to have this rather odd impression that Leland Smith loved her; had always loved her. As the days wore on, her fancies grew more and more ridiculous. Lee would be waiting for her in London; he would have missed her dreadfully; he would sweep her into his arms and proclaim his love for her.
"And then," Maria added. "I will execute a perfectly-timed faint, falling into his arms, to show him I am totally in control of my feminine delicacies."
I didn't quite know what she meant, and I don't think she did either, but I rather got the impression that Maria thought it sounded elegant to tack that onto the end of her long-winded speech.
But even Mama seemed to think it was time to curb Maria's enthusiasm a bit.
"Dear," she began. "Um... you have only met Leland once... and... I don't think he could have such strong emotions for you so quickly, seeing how he barely knows you."
"But Mama," Maria replied pertly. "It wouldn't take more than one meeting for a gentleman with knowledge to fall head over heals in love with me. They would see how I simply outshine all of the other girls, so they would use their heads and go after me."
It took all of my self-control not to laugh out loud at this remark of Maria's. Even so, a giggle escaped me, and Maria turned to look at me with scorn.
"It's just too bad you won't follow Mama's instructions, Evelyn," she replied cooly. "You could really make a lovely marriage. But instead, you spend all your time with your nose in a book, or sketching outdoors!" Maria laughed scornfully. "I guess you'll just die an old maid."
Mama interjected here.
"Maria!" she said. "You know you should not tease your sister so! I know that she is not as beautiful as you are, but that is no reason to behave so rudely."
Maria smirked at me. Mama had succeeded in subconsciously snubbing me in a way even she hadn't thought of. My sister couldn't be more pleased.
I decided to think of other things. I was greatly pleased to be going to London for one reason and one reason only: to visit with my cousins. Lively Liza, with her quick smile and ready laugh, was bound to be laughing about something when I came. And I was eager to discuss books with my quiet cousin, Lizzy. She and I had a great deal in common, and if it weren't for Liza and Bekah, we would spend all our time reading together.
Maria was now sleeping, leaning against a pillow on Mama's shoulder. Though Mama calls Maria her 'little beauty,' it is not quite true. Maria has curly, straw-colored hair. Her dark green eyes are thought to be alluring, but that is mostly due to the fact that she powders and paints them until they are no longer her own - just a mask she has chosen to paint on her face. In fact, she would be very beautiful if she just accepted her own, natural beauty. She looks a good deal like cousin Lizzy, but because she chooses to paint her face with makeup in order to outshine other girls whom she believes to be her "rivals," the contrast between the two is stark.
I suddenly realized something I had never thought of. Poor Maria. She was pampered and spoiled, allowed to paint herself up with powders and such, all because she was under the impression that she was not beautiful. It seemed a very sad place in which to be.
I immediately resolved to try to encourage my sister not to be so... forward. Perhaps, with improvement, Maria could become a beautiful young lady, one whom people enjoyed being around.
With my intentions resolved, I settled back against the carriage and closed my eyes. Slumber seemed to descend on me as the carriage lulled me to sleep...

Leaving

It was a competition.

It was titled See How Fast You Can Pack Your Trunk, and I was losing.

But soon our maid, Betsy, entered the room to relieve me.

"I'm really going to miss you, honey," she said as she set my trunk to rights.

I leaned my head on Betsy old, thin shoulder. "I know. And I really wish I could stay. It's just..."

"You must follow your mother's bidding, dear. And you're doing the right thing by listening to her without a complaint. Remember the fifth commandment."

I leaned my head on the bedpost and slumped over a bit.

"Are you alright, honey? You don't look so good." Betsy's voice was slightly alarmed.

"Oh, I'm fine. I don't know what it is - I just haven't felt myself these past few days. Perhaps it's all the worry over this trip."

"You need a good sleep tonight, dear."

"I know. But I don't see how I'm going to get one, rattling around in a carriage."

"You need a good sleep," Betsy repeated. "I'll see if Mrs. Wickham can put you in a softer part of the carriage." She finished folding my garments and closed the trunk lid. The door shut softly behind her.

I flopped on the bed and lay for about ten minutes. I thought on the last few days.

I hadn't really had time to watch the sunrise ever since that one day a week ago. Mama and Maria had gotten me up at dawn, but not to view the horizon. Rather, they wished that I spend my time shopping in the city with them. Mama was determined that we should not be outshined by our wealthy cousins, and Maria is in full agreement. As for myself, I don't really worry about that sort of thing. All the time Mama spends on our frills and gowns and laces and sashes seems ridiculous.

"Eva! Evelyn, come! We are to leave soon, and we cannot be late!" Maria dashed into my room the minute the words left Mama's mouth.

"Did you hear that, Eva? You must come! Goodness, won't it be so fine in London, with all those gentleman swirling around us?"

I opened my mouth for a reply, but she didn't give me a chance. "And when that darling boy Leland Smith sees me - why, he'll just fall head over heels in love with me! Don't you agree?"

I once more tried to speak, but she cut me off. "Oh, there's Mama! Come, Eva!" And with that, she skipped out of the room.

This was getting to be a very frustrating situation.

I peeked out the window and saw that the carriage had arrived at the door. Papa was helping Mama in, who was fixing the ribbon on her bonnet. Maria was doing the same, and taking occasional peeks into a small pocket mirror to check if her feather was straight.

Sarah, our young housemaid, came to help carry my trunk to the carriage. She smiled at me sadly, as if to say she was sad to see me go, but didn't speak a word.

Once we were all squished into the small carriage, the driver flicked the whip and the horses started off. I glanced back at our house and saw Becky waving sadly.

"Stop!" I cried. "Stop the carriage!"

Mama and Papa looked at me with alarm, but I didn't answer their unspoken questions. Instead, I climbed out of the carriage and ran back to the house. I ran into Betsy's arms, to give her one last hug. 

"I'll never forget you, Betsy. I won't forget you."

She kissed my hair, than pushed me forward. "Go. They are all waiting for you."

Climbing back into the carriage, I saw Maria staring at me, as if to say "I can't believe you ran back to hug a maid." 

I ignored her disdain and once more turned to look back out the carriage window. Betsy was growing smaller and smaller, far off in the distance. I repeated the words I had spoken to her not one minute ago.

"I won't forget you."

The Sunrise

The morning was beckoning me and I had to oblige. Slipping from between my bedclothes, I crept out of the room, so as not to disturb my sister, who was still sleeping. I stepped out onto the porch that was right off of my bedroom and took a deep breath of the clean morning air.  It was slightly chilly, and for a second I wished for my dressing gown, which I had left lying on a chair. But for nothing would I have gone back indoors. The wind blew my dark ringlets into my eyes, and I brushed them quickly to the side.

Oh, how lovely it is, I thought.

Mama and Papa, it seemed, were enjoying a rather enthusiastic disagreement in their room down the hall. I could hear the voices rising and falling, changing swiftly. I sighed. Why can they not see that life would be much easier if they did not argue? I thought to myself. It seemed that my parents were discussing whether or not to go to London. I didn't see Maria slip out, but suddenly her voice was mingled in with theirs, sweet and persuasive.

But the morning was too lovely to waste on arguing, or even thinking about arguments. I turned my attention to the horizon, where the sun was just starting to rise. The dusky clouds were rising, the sun was peeking out, and the horizon was a light pink. It was a gorgeous sight to behold. Every morning when I could, I would wake early and watch the sunrise. There was just something so soothing in the thought of a brand-new day, open to what ever I chose to make of it.

Suddenly the voices grew louder, and I strained my ears to hear what was being said. The few words I could pick out were "London," "gentlemen," and "fortune." I shook my head sadly. It would have been so lovely if I could just travel to London in the way that my cousins did: to see the sights, enjoy the food, without a thought of marriage or money. They were so lucky; they didn't have a mother who was constantly thinking of their marriages. Then I stopped myself. Grandmama was just like Mama to Aunt Jane and Aunt Lizzy, and yet they didn't let it bother them. In fact, they both ended up marrying fine, wealthy gentleman - but they didn't really do anything to try to attract them. I straightened my shoulders and looked once more to the sunrise. The day seemed a little brighter.

It seemed to me that the voices had stopped. I perked up my ears, but I couldn't hear a word. Then I heard a door slamming shut violently and giddy, girlish squeals.

My bedroom door banged open, and Maria ran in gasping.

"Eva! Eva, come here! Oh you'll never guess... oh, Papa is so kind... oh it's just so wonderful...!" Maria was gasping for air as she attempted to tell me her news.

"Maria, calm down! What is it?"

"Papa... Papa has decided that we... we are to go to London!"

My heart started beating at twice it's normal speed.

To London or Not to London?

"Pleeeease, Papa?" my sister Maria begged. She was known for her talents in the way of persuasion and manipulation, but she was not getting very far here.
"Absolutely not," Papa replied. I could see a slight smile on his face, but the beginnings of parental guidance hid behind his eyes.
"But why, Papa?" Maria asked, a frown on her pretty face.
"For one reason, and one reason only. I do not wish to send you to London only so you can flirt with Leland Smith!"
"Papa..." Maria began petulantly, with a slight pout. "You know that is not why I wish to go to London. I simply would love to visit my cousins, the Darcys, and Rebekah Bingley, who have planned a trip there. In fact," she paused to glance at the clock. "They should be there already. What a good joke it would be if we showed up, too!"
"I don't think they would enjoy that, my dear," Papa stated. "They have a slight... aversion to you, though why they ever would avoid you, I cannot think. I just don't..."
"My dear," Mama interrupted. "Why on earth are you so against us going to London? After all," with a slight glance at me, "you would not wish to take away from the girls their one change to find an eligible husband, now would you?"
"I would not," Papa said. "But-"
"Oh, never mind your worries!" Mama interjected again. "The girls and I will be fine on our own. You can stay at home, Wickham, though I will be desolate without you."
At this Papa's eyes snapped.
"I most certainly will not let you go to London by yourselves!" he said. "It is far, far too dangerous. We will discuss this matter later. Girls?"
Maria and I looked up.
"Go to bed now. Your mother and I have some discussing to do."