Charlotte Collins: A Continuation of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice by Jennifer Becton Page B
Authors: Jennifer Becton
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amongst people. It would be so much pleasanter to be a hermit."
He laughed and then turned contemplative. "I am also sorry to see what effect this situation is having on you, but I hope it does not cause you to turn into a hermit.
"It has not affected me half so much as it has Maria."
"Oh, but it has."
"I am afraid I do not follow your logic, sir."
"I have noticed that no one has spoken to you all morning, and I have heard what they said about you after you pass by. Does not that concern you at all?"
"Of course it does, but I must think of Maria."
They walked along and Charlotte fancied that she could feel the stares of people on her.
"Have you considered taking a holiday?"
"A holiday?"
"Yes. Perhaps a trip to London for a few weeks will allow the storm clouds to pass."
"I do not know, Mr. Edgington. I do not relish the idea of retreating and retrenching."
"Nonsense. You know the nature of society. Your current trouble will dissipate upon the occurrence of the next event worthy of salacious gossip. I simply believe that there is no reason to witness the slander of your family firsthand."
Charlotte considered for a moment. She had advised her sister only this morning to go out and face her trouble, but having witnessed the magnitude of the situation for herself, having spoken to poor Mr. Card, she could well see the advantage of waiting out the storm in London.
"Do you have relatives or friends whom you could visit?"
"Yes, I do have some cousins in London whom I have not seen in quite some time."
"Well, perhaps now is the time to renew your acquaintance," he suggested. "And London has many pleasant distractions for ladies."
They lapsed into silence, and Charlotte spent the remainder of her walk with Mr. Edgington considering her options. She took her leave of him, completely forgetting to purchase cream cakes for which she had ventured out, and returned home to discover that Maria was not downstairs. As Charlotte ascended the steps, she began to hear the sounds of sobbing.
She knocked on the door to Maria's bed chamber and found her sister sitting in the middle of the bed dressed in her favorite gown of a white fabric patterned with blue stripes and medallions. Her hair had been done, but it had slipped its hold and now strands hung around her face. Her eyes looked defeated, and Charlotte immediately felt compassion for her.
"Oh, Charlotte."
She sat on the rumpled bed beside her. The same position she had taken that morning."What has happened?"
Maria held up a letter. "This was delivered an hour ago. From Miss Farmington. She says...she says...here, read it for yourself."
Charlotte opened the letter, which was written in a looping, exaggerated hand, a silly choice of script.
My dear Maria--
I know that you must be having a difficult time at present and are probably not anxious to venture out amongst our acquaintance. However, I know you are too polite to rescind your acceptance to our picnic next week. I will save you the pain of disappointing us by telling you are no longer required to attend.
It was signed in exaggerated swirls that Charlotte imagined was her name.
The situation was utterly ridiculous, and Miss Farmington's behavior only served to convince Charlotte that she was not like her old red roan pony at all. She more closely resembled a mule.
"Is it not awful?"
"Yes, it is." She patted her sister's arm. "What would you think of a holiday?"
Maria's face lit. "Holiday?"
"Yes, to London to visit our cousins the Emersons for a time."
Hope lit Maria's eyes, then suspicion. "But you said I must face society and not run away."
"Forget what I said this morning. Perhaps this is the best way. What do you think? Shall we go?"
"Could we?"
"I believe we should."
Maria, whose eyes had brightened despite their red rims, smiled for the first time that morning. "I must admit that a holiday would be welcome. I will prepare my trunk straightaway...after I ring for tea. I could certainly do with a fresh
He laughed and then turned contemplative. "I am also sorry to see what effect this situation is having on you, but I hope it does not cause you to turn into a hermit.
"It has not affected me half so much as it has Maria."
"Oh, but it has."
"I am afraid I do not follow your logic, sir."
"I have noticed that no one has spoken to you all morning, and I have heard what they said about you after you pass by. Does not that concern you at all?"
"Of course it does, but I must think of Maria."
They walked along and Charlotte fancied that she could feel the stares of people on her.
"Have you considered taking a holiday?"
"A holiday?"
"Yes. Perhaps a trip to London for a few weeks will allow the storm clouds to pass."
"I do not know, Mr. Edgington. I do not relish the idea of retreating and retrenching."
"Nonsense. You know the nature of society. Your current trouble will dissipate upon the occurrence of the next event worthy of salacious gossip. I simply believe that there is no reason to witness the slander of your family firsthand."
Charlotte considered for a moment. She had advised her sister only this morning to go out and face her trouble, but having witnessed the magnitude of the situation for herself, having spoken to poor Mr. Card, she could well see the advantage of waiting out the storm in London.
"Do you have relatives or friends whom you could visit?"
"Yes, I do have some cousins in London whom I have not seen in quite some time."
"Well, perhaps now is the time to renew your acquaintance," he suggested. "And London has many pleasant distractions for ladies."
They lapsed into silence, and Charlotte spent the remainder of her walk with Mr. Edgington considering her options. She took her leave of him, completely forgetting to purchase cream cakes for which she had ventured out, and returned home to discover that Maria was not downstairs. As Charlotte ascended the steps, she began to hear the sounds of sobbing.
She knocked on the door to Maria's bed chamber and found her sister sitting in the middle of the bed dressed in her favorite gown of a white fabric patterned with blue stripes and medallions. Her hair had been done, but it had slipped its hold and now strands hung around her face. Her eyes looked defeated, and Charlotte immediately felt compassion for her.
"Oh, Charlotte."
She sat on the rumpled bed beside her. The same position she had taken that morning."What has happened?"
Maria held up a letter. "This was delivered an hour ago. From Miss Farmington. She says...she says...here, read it for yourself."
Charlotte opened the letter, which was written in a looping, exaggerated hand, a silly choice of script.
My dear Maria--
I know that you must be having a difficult time at present and are probably not anxious to venture out amongst our acquaintance. However, I know you are too polite to rescind your acceptance to our picnic next week. I will save you the pain of disappointing us by telling you are no longer required to attend.
It was signed in exaggerated swirls that Charlotte imagined was her name.
The situation was utterly ridiculous, and Miss Farmington's behavior only served to convince Charlotte that she was not like her old red roan pony at all. She more closely resembled a mule.
"Is it not awful?"
"Yes, it is." She patted her sister's arm. "What would you think of a holiday?"
Maria's face lit. "Holiday?"
"Yes, to London to visit our cousins the Emersons for a time."
Hope lit Maria's eyes, then suspicion. "But you said I must face society and not run away."
"Forget what I said this morning. Perhaps this is the best way. What do you think? Shall we go?"
"Could we?"
"I believe we should."
Maria, whose eyes had brightened despite their red rims, smiled for the first time that morning. "I must admit that a holiday would be welcome. I will prepare my trunk straightaway...after I ring for tea. I could certainly do with a fresh
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