So much for gaining Mr Channing's attention.
Georgiana soon discovered that she had gained nothing by offering to sketch and lost a great deal. For she was now forced to sit still and watch everyone else play hide and seek. Even Mr Gatley participated. He ran around and laughed and was as silly as the rest of them, while she was condemned to contemplate the melancholy scene of the crumbled ruins, which she had not even cared about in the first place.
Soon Mrs Gatley, announcing that she was quite tired of sitting after the long carriage ride rose to her feet and suggested to Mrs Channing that a game of hide and seek would surely do them good.
Her sister puckered her lips and looked uncertain. "Do you think so?"
"Of course."
Mrs Channing, though not convinced, rose and did as she was told, following Mrs Gatley reluctantly.
Only Georgiana and Mrs Moffet were left sitting. The others laughed and shouted and played at hiding.
Her frustration reached such a peak that she felt quite prepared to tear up the sketching pad. Fortunately, before she could put into practise such a detrimental plan--for she would certainly lose face--she hit upon the idea of sketching the young people 225
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themselves as they skipped around. It gave her an excuse, at least, to watch Channing more closely.
Sketching their happy faces did not make her feel better. Clarissa was right; there was nothing in the world as dull as sketching.
For good measure, she added some sheep.
Meanwhile, Mrs Moffet, who had been more firm than Mrs Channing in refusing to join in the game, brought her chair closer to Georgiana's.
A particularly difficult patch of embroidery seemed to require all her attention. She was working on a scene with a swan, and seemed to have reached a part that needed delicate work. She said nothing for several moments.
"You must be very fond of the Odyssey," remarked Georgiana by and by, feeling that she should make an effort to be polite.
Mrs Moffet denied having read the Odyssey or anything of the classics.
"Indeed," she said with a laugh, "I have no inclination towards reading at all.
"But one hears these things bandied about everywhere, and the moment dear Odysseus was born, I knew he had the look of a hero, and nothing would satisfy me but to call him by a hero's name.
For I have always disliked my own name, you know. Jane is such a trivial name, and I cannot think that anyone called Jane could possibly be anyone of importance. But with a name like Odysseus, there can be no limit."
"Foul!" came a cry from Mr Channing, interrupting Mrs Moffet's explanation. "You are cheating, Mr Moffet! You are not supposed to look while you are counting! What shall we do with him? Shall we dunk him in the river?" He looked at Clarissa.
"By all means," said Clarissa. "Serves him right for cheating!"
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Georgiana wanted to protest that Mr Channing too had cheated, for she had seen him, and that it was hardly fair to punish only Mr Moffet. But Mrs Moffet had grown so alarmed by this time that she rushed forward to defend her son, beating down the hands of Mr Channing with her parasol and chastising him loudly.
"You should be ashamed of yourself. Have you not outgrown this by now? I remember all too well the time you pushed Moffey into the river because his father bought him a mare, and he would not let you ride it. You will not dunk my son or anyone else in the river"--and here she stared significantly at Mr Channing--
"simply for opening his eyes while counting. Why, he might catch his death."
Channing protested that he did not really mean to do it, only to discourage Moffet from cheating again.
Meanwhile, Mr Moffet, his neck cloth awry and his hair as ruffled as his pride, glared at Channing.
"Oh come, Moffey," said Channing with the familiarity of a childhood friend. "Surely you don't mean to hold it against me.
Where's your sporting nature?"
Mrs Moffet, reassured that her son was not to be mauled or thrown into the river in the near future, returned to her seat, looking satisfied. As if she had never been interrupted, she picked up the threads of her conversation with Georgiana.
"I chose the name Athena for the same reason, you know," said Mrs Moffet. "Is it not the best name a girl can have?"
"Athena has a noble ring to it," replied Georgiana.
"Yes, it does indeed," replied Mrs Moffet. "The name of a goddess will give her a great advantage in life, mark my words."
Mrs Moffet's mission in life was to improve the situation of her children, for she was convinced that her own lot in life would have 227
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been much better if only her parents had tried harder to provide her with the advantages needed for success.
"Not that I have anything to complain of in Mr Moffet. He is a perfectly respectable gentleman and has proved to be a very obliging father, and we rub along well enough. But even he agrees with me that one must not become complacent, and must always strive to improve oneself and do everything one can to assure that one's children's lot is better than one's own."
Georgiana wondered how much Mr Moffet agreed with his wife, since he had remained in the country, steadfastly refusing to go up to Town.
"Is he not very handsome? Mr Channing was always jealous of him, for my son is certainly the handsomer of the two," asked Mrs Moffet proudly, putting down her embroidery and following her son with her eyes. "The girl who catches my Odysseus's fancy will quickly realise how lucky she is to have him."
Just then Miss Moffet let out a scream and ran towards them, with Channing in hot pursuit. She took refuge behind Georgiana's chair, and Georgiana, faced with Channing in front of her and Athena behind, her, covered her sketchbook to prevent her sketch from tearing. A playful dodging game ensued, in which Athena proved very skilful at evading Channing. Georgiana meanwhile did not know where to look, for Channing was far too close to her.
Fortunately, the game came to an end when Channing lunged at Athena and caught her by her dress.
"You should not have tried to escape me," he said, grinning.
"You knew I would win at the end."
"But I did get away. Admit it," said Athena. "You have to acknowledge that I had you for a moment."
"Only for a moment," replied Channing.
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They returned to the others, and the game--whatever it had become, for it was no longer hide and seek--resumed.
"You know, I am quite determined to have Mr Channing for Athena," said Mrs Moffet suddenly.
Georgiana stiffened. "I do not know why you are telling me this, Mrs Moffet. It is up to Mr Channing to choose the object of his interest, surely."
"True enough," said Mrs Moffet quite good-naturedly. "But I think your cousin would not make him a good wife, and neither would you."
"I do not know what you mean," said Georgiana faintly.
"You will come to understand it well enough," said Mrs Moffet.
"He is not for you. He will suit my daughter far better. They have known each other for years, and she has his measure. You are too clever for him."
Not knowing what to make of this remark, and whether to take it as praise or discouragement, she did not reply. She hoped Mrs Moffet would enlighten her further. But Mrs Moffet had resumed her embroidery and had become quite absorbed by it. She brought it closer to her face and examined it carefully for flaws.
Georgiana could not shake off the feeling that Mrs Moffet had given her a warning to stay away.
Presently, tired of their games, everybody began to drift in their direction, since drinks had been set up next to them on a table for those who were thirsty.
Clarissa came over to see how the sketch was progressing.
"I like it," she said. "Though I wish you had focussed on the ruins more. You have spent more time drawing us."
"Did you draw me?" asked Channing, coming over. "Let me see."
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Georgiana waited for his verdict.
"Very nice, you have captured me quite well," said Channing.
"Shall this be my copy?"
"I cannot give you the original," she replied. "I promised the sketch for Clarissa."
Channing seemed put out that she could deny him. He turned deliberately to Miss Moffet, who was standing next to him, and invited her to take a stroll with him.
Georgiana could not help feeling that he had done it almost as a punishment.
"You should not look so stricken," whispered Clarissa, leaning over. "You are supposed to conceal your feelings, Georgiana. What did I teach you?"
The reminder served its purpose. Georgiana sprung to her feet and headed towards Gatley.
"I am thoroughly tired of being seated," she said gaily. "I hope you will keep me company in a walk."
Mr Gatley, raising an eyebrow, answered politely that he would be more than glad to accompany her.
Georgiana caught Channing looking in her direction. She was so anxious to prove to him that she was indifferent to his slight that she turned quite flirtatiously to Gatley.
"I am still a little irked with you, Mr Gatley, you know."
"Indeed?" he replied. "I was not aware of having offended you."
"You may profess ignorance, but you surely remember our last encounter. I did not want to mention it in front of your mother, but I have not quite forgotten it."
It was quickly apparent that he had no idea to what she referred.
"Surely you remember that I was quite cast down by your comment about my hat."
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Gatley threw a quick glance at the wide-brimmed leghorn bonnet she wore.
"Yes, I do remember," he replied with a half-smile. "And now you are wearing one that is quite different. You see I am not quite as forgetful as all that."
"No, I did not think you could be. But tell me then: Do you like this one better?"
"You must allow that I am not a good judge of ladies' fashions, particularly when it comes to hats. I am sure your hat is very fashionable, for I have seen enough to know that enormous bonnets laden with fruits, flowers, and enormous feathers are quite the rage at the moment."
"That is what is called damning with faint praise," remarked Georgiana, though secretly she agreed many of the hats were quite monstrous.
"I prefer to remain neutral on the subject of female fashion."
"I can only conclude, in that case, that you believe a female should not follow fashion at all."
"That is not my meaning. One cannot be introduced into society in anything but the latest fashion. But from those fashions, a lady has some choice."
"Hardly, when the fashions are dictated by others."
"I shall try to explain what I mean. Do you think a dress looks as well on a modiste's mannequin--no matter how perfectly proportioned the mannequin--as it looks on a real young lady, despite her imperfections?"
"No, of course not."
"That is what I wish to say about your manner of dressing. You have tried to adopt a certain style which may look well on others, but since it is a style not your own, it lacks conviction."
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"You are suggesting, then, that I am as lifeless as a mannequin?"
she cried.
"I am suggesting only that a style that is your own--no matter how simple--may sit better on you than the most elaborate costume, however expensive and fashionable it may be."
Since to Georgiana the word simple at the moment was very high on her list of detestable words in the English language, one could not expect her to be gratified by this statement.
"Then you would condemn me to be dowdy, since that apparently seems to be my style."
Gatley stopped abruptly. Georgiana feared that she had pushed him so far. But he merely pointed his walking stick at a swan that was just then traversing the water. The water parted before it on both sides, and it glided majestically through, buoyant as air.
"You see the swan, how simple, and how graceful its contours are. She is perfect as she is. Beyond those white feathers of hers, she needs no more ornamentation. Would you agree?"
"Naturally," said Georgiana.
"Think then how different she would be if she happened upon a peacock, and struck with envy at its vibrant colours, determined to cover herself in colourful feathers as well. How would the swan then appear?"
Georgiana was heartily tired of this conversation by now.
"I believe you are about to tell me," she remarked.
"Yes, I will tell you. She will be ridiculous. She will neither be a swan, nor a peacock, nor anything else at all but a swan pretending to be a peacock."
"Very well, Mr Gatley," she said, still trying to be playful, though she was sorely tempted to send him to the devil. "I will not ask your opinion about my hat another time if I am to be compared first to 232
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a mannequin, then to a swan masquerading as a peacock. It seems I am to be a figure of fun."
"You wilfully misunderstand me, Miss Darcy. You know very well that my intention is to compliment you. But I can see that you will not be content unless I am more direct." He smiled. "I will paraphrase. What I meant to say is that you are quite beautiful yourself and require no decoration. Now are you satisfied?"
Georgiana wished she could be satisfied. But Mr Gatley had placed so many qualifications on his praise, and had spoken in such a manner, that he had cast doubt on the very words he was expressing.
She put up her chin in mock haughtiness. "I will accept your compliment, Mr Gatley," she said with a little smile. But she could not resist teasing him. "It is far better, at any rate, than your moral tale about the swan."
Mr Gatley did not rise to the bait. His lips twitched in amusement, but he gave no answer.
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Chapter 19
In the second week of June, as the Season reached its height, an astonishing piece of news reached them.
"I can scarcely credit it! Anne, of all people!" said Darcy, striding into the drawing room with a missive in his hand.