SANDITON
CHAPTERl
A GENTLEMAN AND A LADY travelling from Tunbridge towards
that part of the Sussex coast which lies between Hastings and
Eastbourne, being induced by business to quit the high road and
attempt a very rough lane, were overturned in toiling up its long
a scent, half rock, half sand.
The accident happened just beyond the only gentleman's house
near the lane -- a house which their driver, on being first required
to take that direction, had conceived to be necessarily their object
and had with most unwilling looks been constrained to pass by.
He had grumbled and shaken his shoulders and pitied and cut his
horses so sharply that he might have been open to the suspicion
of overturning them on purpose (especially as the carriage was
not his master's own) if the road had not indisputably become
worse than before, as soon as the premises of the said house were
left behind -- expressing with a most portentous countenance that,
beyond it, no wheels but cart wheels could safely proceed.
The severity of the fall was broken by their slow pace and the
narrowness of the lane; and the gentleman having scrambled out
and helped out his companion, they neither of them at first felt
more than shaken and bruised. But the gentleman had, in the
course of the extrication, sprained his foot; and soon becoming
sensible of it, was obliged in a few moments to cut short both his
remonstrances to the driver and his congratulations to his wife and
himself and sit down on the bank, unable to stand.
"There is something wrong here," said he, putting his hand to
his anle. "But never mind, my dear," looking up at her with a
smile, "it could not have happened, you know, in a better pIace
Good out of evil. The very thing perhaps to be wished for. We
shall soon get relief. <1There, I>1 fancy, lies my cure," pointing to
the neat-looking end of a cottage, which was seen romantically
situated among wood on a high eminence at some little distance
' Does not <1that>1 promise to Be the very place?"
His wife fervently hoped it was; but stood, terrified and anxious,
neither able to do or suggest anything, and receiving her first real
comfort from the sight of several persons now coming to their
assistance.
The accident had been discerned from a hayfield adjoining the
house they had passed. And the persons who approached were
a well-looking, hale, gentlemanlike man of middle age, the
proprietor of the place, who happened to be among his haymakers
at the time, and three or four of the ablest of them summoned to
attend their master-- to say nothing of all the rest of the field,
men, women and children, not very far off.
Mr. Heywood, such was the name of the said proprietor,
advanced with a very civil salutation, much concern for the
accident, some surprise at anybody's attempting that road in a
carriage, and ready offers of assistance.
His courtesies were received with good breeding and gratitude,
and while one or two of the men lent their help to the driver in
getting the carriage upright again, the traveller said,
"You are extremely obliging, sir, and I take you at your word-
The injury to my leg is, I dare say, very trifling. But it is always
best in these cases, you know, to have a surgeon's opinion without
loss of time; and as the road does not seem in a favourable state
for my getting up to his house myself, I will thank you to send off
one of these good people for the surgeon.
"The surgeon]" exclaimed Mr. Heywood. "I am afraid you will
find no surgeon at hand here, but I dare say we shall do very well
without him."
"Nay sir, if <1he>1 is not in the way, his partner will do just as
well -- or rather better. I would rather see his partner. Indeed
I would prefer the attendance of his partner. One of these good
people can be with him in three minutes, I am sure. I need not
ask whether I see the house," looking towards the cottage, "for
excepting your own, we have passed none in this place which can
be the abode of a gentleman."
Mr. Heywood looked very much astonished.
"What, sir] Are you expecting to find a surgeon in that
cottage? We have neither surgeon nor partner in the parish, I
assure you."
"Excuse me, sir," replied the other. "I am sorry to have the
appearance of contradicting you, but from the extent of the parish
or some other cause you may not be aware of the fact -- stay --
can I be mistaken in the place? Am I not in Willingden? Is not
this Willingden?"
"Yes, sir, this is certainly Willingden."
"Then, sir, I can bring proof of your having a surgeon in the
parish, whether you may know it or not. Here, sir," taking out
his pocket book, "if you will do me the favor of casting your eye
over these advertisements which I cut out myself from the <1Morning>1
<1Post>1 and the<1Kentish Gazette>1 only yesterday morning in London,
l think you will be convinced that I am not speaking at random.
You will find in it an advertisement of the dissolution of a partner-
ship in the medical line -- in your own parish -- exttensive busi-
ness -- undeniable character -- respectable references -- wishing
to form a separate establishment. You will find it at full length,
sir,' offering the two little oblong extracts.
"Sir, if you were to show me all the newspapers that are printed
in one week throughout the kingdom, you would not persuade
me of there being a surgeon in Willingden," said Mr. Heywood
with a good-humoured smile. "Having lived here ever since I was
born, man and boy fifty-seven years, I think l must have known
of such a person. At least I may venture to say that he has not
much business. To be sure, if gentlemen were to be often
attempting this lane in post-chaises, it might not be a bad
speculation for a surgeon to get a house at the top of the hill. But
as to that cottage, I can assure you, sir, that it is in fact, in spite
of its spruce air at this distance, as indifferent a double tenement
as any in the parish, and that my shepherd lives at one end and
three old women at the other."
He took the pieces of paper as he spoke, and, having looked
them over, added,
"I believe I can explain it, sir. Your mistake <1is>1 in the place.
There are two Willingdens in this country. And your advertise-
ments must refer to the other, which is Great Willingden or
Willingden Abbots, and lies seven miles off on the other side of
Battle. Quite down in the weald. And <1we,>1 sir," he added, speaking
rather proudly, "are not in the weald."
"Not <1down>1 in the weald, I am sure," replied the traveller pIeas-
antly. "It took us half an hour to climb your hill. Well, I dare
say it is as you say and I have made an abominably stupid blunder.
All done in a moment. The advertisements did not catch my eye
till the last half hour of our being in town -- everything in the
hurry and confusion which always attend a short stay there. One
is never able to complete anything in the way of business, you
know, till the carriage is at the door. So satisfying myself with
a brief inquiry, and finding we were actually to pass within a mile
or two of a <1Willingden, I>1 sought no farther.... My dear" (to
his wife) "I am very sorry to have brought you into this scrape.
But do not be alarmed about my leg. It gives me no pain while
I am quiet. And as soon as these good people have succeeded in
setting the carriage to rights and turning the horses round, the best
thing we can do will be to measure back our steps into the turn-
pike road and proceed to Hailsham, and so home without attempt-
ing anything farther. Two hours take us home from Hailsham.
And once at home, we have our remedy at hand, you know. A
little of our own bracing sea air will soon set me on my feet
again. Depend upon it, my dear, it is exactly a case for the sea.
Saline air and immersion will be the very thing. My sensations
tell me so already."
In a most friendly manner Mr. Heywood here interposed,
entreating them not to think of proceeding till the ankle had been
examined and some refreshment taken, and very cordially pressing
them to make use of his house for both purposes.
"We are always well stocked," said he, "with all the common
remedies for sprains and bruises. And I will answer for the
pleasure it will give my wife and daughters to be of service to you
in every way in their power."
A twinge or two, in trying to move his foot, disposed the
traveller to think rather more than he had done at first of the
benefit of immediate assistance; and consulting his wife in the
few words of "Well, my dear, I believe it will be better for us,' he
turned again to Mr. Heywood.
'Before we accept your hospitaliey sir, and in order to do away
with any unfavourable impression which the sort of wild-goose
chase you find me in may have given rise to-- allow me to tell
you who we are. My name is Parker, Mr. Parker of Sanditon;
this lady, my wife, Mrs. Parker. We are on our road home from
London. My name perhaps -- though I am by no means the first
of my family holding landed property in the parish of Sanditon
-- may be unknown at this distance from the coast. But Sanditon
itself -- everybody has heard of Sanditon. The favourite -- for
a young and rising bathing-pIace -- certainly the favourite spot
of all that are to be found along the coast of Sussex; the most
favoured by nature, and promising to be the most chosen by man.-'
-"Yes, I have heard of Sanditon," replied Mr. Heywood. "Every
five years, one hears of some new place or other starting up by the
sea and growing the fashion. How they can half of them be filled
is the wonder] Where people can be found with money and time
to go to them] Bad things for a country -- sure to raise the price
of provisions and make the poor good for nothing -- as I dare
say you find, sir."
"Not at all, sir, not at all," cried Mr. Parker eagerly. "Quite
the contrary, I assure you. A common idea, but a mistaken one.
It may apply to your large, overgrown places like Brighton or
Worthing or Eastbourne -- but <1not>1 to a small village like Sandi-
ton, precluded by its size from experiencing any of the evils of
civilization; while the growth of the place, the buildings, the
nursery grounds, the demand for everything and the sure resort
of the very best company -- those regular, steady, private families
of thorough gentility and character who are a blessing everywhere
-- excite the industry of the poor and diffuse comfort and im-
provement among them of every sort. No sir, I assure you,
Sanditon is not a place -- "
"I do not mean to take exception to any place in particular,"
answered Mr. Heywood. "I only think our coast is too full of
them altogether. But had we not better try to get you -- "
Our coast too full]" repeated Mr. Parker. "On that point per-
haps we may not totally disagree. At least there are <1enough.>1
Our coast is abundant enough. It demands no more. Every-
body's taste and everybody's finances may be suited. And those
good people who are trying to add to the number are, in my
opinion, excessively absurd and must soon find themselves the
dupes of their own fallacious calculations. Such a pIace as
Sanditon, sir, I may say was wanted, was called for. Nature had
marked it out, had spoken in most intelligible characters. The
finest, purest sea breeze on the coast -- acknowledged to be so --
excellent bathing -- fine hard sand -- deep water ten yards from
the shore -- no mud -- no weeds -- no slimy rocks. Never was
there a place more palpably designed by nature for the resort of
the invalid -- the very spot which thousands seemed in need of]
The most desirable distance from London] One complete,
measured mile nearer than Eastbourne. Only conceive, sir, the
advantage of saving a whole mile in a long journey. But
Brinshore, sir, which I dare say you have in your eye -- the
attempts of two or three speculating people about Brinshore this
last year to raise that paltry hamlet -- lying as it does between a
stagnant marsh, a bleak moor and the constant effluvia of a ridge
of putrefying seaweed -- can end in nothing but their own dis-
appointment. What in the name of common sense is to
<1recommend>1 Brinshore? A most insalubrious air -- roads
proverbially detestable -- water brackish beyond example,
impossible to get a good dish of tea within three miles of the
place. And as for the soil -- it is so cold and ungrateful that
it can hardly be made to yield a cabbage. Depend upon it, sir,
that this is a most faithful description of Brinshore -- not in
the smallest degree exaggerated -- and if you have heard it
differently spoken of -- "
"Sir, I never heard it spoken of in my life before," said Mr.
Heywood. "I did not know there was such a place in the world."
"You did not] There, my dear," turning with exultation to his
wife, "you see how it is. So much for the celebrity of Brinshore]
This gentleman did not know there was such a place in the world.
Why, in truth, sir, I fancy we may apply to Brinshore that line of
the poet Cowper in his description of the religious cottager, as
opposed to Voltaire -- <1'She,>1 never heard of half a mile from
home. ' "
"With all my heart, sir-- apply any verses you like to it. But
I want to see something applied to your leg. And I am sure by
your lady's countenance that she is quite of my opinion and
thinks it a pity to lose any more time. And here come my
girIs to speak for themselves and their mother." Two or three
genteel-looking young women, followed by as many maid servants,
were now seen issuing from the house. "I began to wonder the
bustle should not have reached <1them. A>1 thing of this kind soon
makes a stir in a lonely place like ours, Now, sir, let us see how
you can be best conveyed into the house."
The young ladies approached and said everything that was
proper to recommend their father's offers, and in an unaffected
manner calculated to make the strangers easy. As Mrs. parker
was etceedingly anxious for relief -- and her husband by this time
not much less disposed for it -- a very few civil scruples were
enough; especially as the carriage, being now set up, was dis-
covered to have received such injury on the fallen side as to be
unfit for present use. Mr. Parker was therefore carried into the
house and his carriage wheeled off to a vacant barn.
CHAPTER2
THE ACQUAINTANCE, thus oddly begun, was neither short nor
unimportant. For a whole fortnight the travellers were fixed at
Willingden, Mr. Parker's sprain proving too serious for him to
move sooner. He had fallen into very good hands. The Heywoods
were a thoroughly respectable family and every possible attention
was paid, in the kindest and most unpretending manner, to both
husband and wife. <1He>1 was waited on and nursed, and <1she>1 cheered
and comforted with unremitting kindness; and as every office of
hospitality and friendliness was received as it ought, as there was
not more good will on one side than gratitude on the other, nor
any deficiency of generally pleasant manners in either, they grew to
like each other in the course of that fortnight exceedingly well.
Mr. parker's character and history were soon unfolded. All
that he understood of himself, he readily told, for he was very
openhearted; and where he might be himself in the dark, his
conversation was still giving information to such of the Heywoods
as could observe. By such he was perceived to be an enthusiast
-- on the subject of Sanditon, a complete enthusiast. Sanditon,
the success of Sanditon as a small, fashionable bathing place, was
the object for which he seemed to live.
A very few years ago, it had been a quiet village of no preten-
sions; but some natural advantages in its position and some
accidental circumstances having stiggested to himself and the
other principal landholder the probability of its becoming a
profitable speculation, they had engaged in it, and planned and
built, and praised and puffed, and raised it to something of young
renown; and Mr. Parker could now think of very little besides.
The facts which, in more direct communication, he laid before
them were that he was about five and thirty, had been married --
very happily married -- seven years, and had four sweet children
at home; that he was of a respectable family and easy, though
not large, fortune; no profession -- succeeding as eldest son to the
property which two or three generations had been holding and
accumulating before him; that he had two brothers and two
sisters, all single and all independent -- the eldest of the two
former indeed, by collateral inheritance, quite as well provided for
as himself.
His object in quitting the high road to hunt for an advertising
surgeon was also plainly stated. It had not proceeded from any
intention of spraining his ankle or doing himself any other injury
for the good of such surgeon, nor (as Mr. Heywood had been apt
to suppose) from any design of entering into partnership with
him; it was merely in consequence of a wish to establish some
medical man at Sanditon, which the nature of the advertisement
induced him to expect to accomplish in Willingden. He was
convinced that the advantage of a medical man at hand would
very materially promote the rise and prosperity of the place,
would in fact tend to bring a prodigious influx; nothing else was
wanting. He had <1strong>1 reason to believe that <1one>1 family had
been deterred last year from trying Sanditon on that account --
and probably very many more -- and his own sisters, who were
sad invalids and whom he was very anxious to get to Sanditon
this summer, could hardly be expected to hazard themselves in
a place where they could not have immediate medical advice.
Upon the whole, Mr. parker was evidently an amiable family
man, fond of wife, children, brothers and sisters, and generally
kind-hearted; liberal, gentlemanlike, easy to please; of a sanguine
turn of mind, with more imagination than judgement. And Mrs.
Parker was as evidently a gentle, amiable, sweet-tempered wom-
an, the properest wife in the world for a man of strong under-
standing but not of a capacity to supply the cooler reflection
which her own husband sometimes needed; and so entirely waiting
to be guided on every occasion that whether he was risking his
fortune or spraining his ankle, she remained equally useless.
Sanditon was a second wife and four children to him, hardly
less dear, and certainly more engrossing. He could talk of it
forever. lt had indeed the highest claims; not only those of
birthplace, property and home; it was his mine, his lottery, his
speculation and his hobby horse; his occupation, his hope and his
futurity.
He was extremely desirous of drawing his good friends at
Willingden thither; and his endeavours in the cause were as
grateful and disinterested as they were warm. He wanted to
secre the promise of a visit, to get as many of the family as his
own house would contain to follow him to Sanditon as soon as
possible; and, healthy as they all undeniably were, foresaw that
every one of them would be benefited by the sea.
He held it indeed as certain that no person could be really well,
no person (however upheld for the present by fortuitous aids of
exercise and spirits in a semblance of health) could be really in a
state of secure and permanent health without spending at least
six weeks by the sea every year. The sea air and sea bathing to-
gether were nearly infallible, one or the other of them being a
match for every disorder of the stomach, the lungs or the blood.
They were anti-spasmodic, anti-pulmonary, anti-septic, anti-bil-
lious and anti-rheumatic. Nobody could catch cold by the sea;
nobody wanted appetite by the sea; nobody wanted spirits; nobody
wanted strength. Sea air was healing, softening, relaxing --
fortifying and bracing -- seemingly just as was wanted -- some-
times one, sometimes the other. If the sea breeze failed, the sea-
bath was the certain corrective; and where bathing disagreed,
the sea air aIone was evidently designed by nature for the cure.
His eloquence, however, could not prevail. Mr. and Mrs.
Heywood never left home. Marrying early and having a very
numerous family, their movements had, long been limited to one
small circle; and they were older in habits than in age. Excepting
two journeys to London in the year to receive his dividends, Mr.
Heywood went no farther than his feet or his well-tried old horse
could carry him; and Mrs. Heywood's adventurings were only now
and then to visit her neighbours in the old coach which had been
new when they married and fresh-lined on their eldest son's coming
of age ten years ago.
They had a very pretty property; enough, had their family been
of reasonable limits, to have allowed them a very gentlemanlike
share of luxuries and change; enough for them to have indulged in
a new carriage and better roads, an occasional month at Tun-
bridge Wells, and symptoms of the gout and a winter at Bath,
But the maintenance, education and fitting out of fourteen children
demanded a very quiet, settled, careful course of life, and obliged
them to be stationary and healthy at Willingden. What prudence
had at first enjoined was now rendered pleasant by habit. They
never left home and they had gratification in saying so.
But very far from wishing their children to do the same, they
were glad to promote <1their>1 getting out into the world as much as
possible. They stayed at home that their children <1might>1 get out;
and, while making that home extremely comfortable, welcomed
every change from it which could give useful connections or
respectable acquaintance to sons or daughters.
When Mr. and Mrs. Parker, therefore, ceased from soliciting
a family visit and bounded their views to carrying back one
daughter with them, no difficulties were started. lt was general
pleasure and consent.
Their invitation was to Miss Charlotte Heywood, a very pleas-
ing young woman of two and twenty, the eldest of the daughters
at home and the one who, under her mother's directions, had been
particularly useful and obliging to them; who had attended them
most and knew them best.
Charlotte was to go: with excellent health, to bathe and be
better if she could; to receive every possible pleasure which
Sanditon could made to supply by the gratitude of those she
went with; and to buy new parasols, new gloves and new brooches
for her sisters and herself at the library, which Mr. Parker was
anxiously wishing to support.
All that Mr. Heywood himself could be persuaded to promise
was that he would send everyone to Sanditon who asked his
advice, and that nothing should ever induce him (as far as the
future could be answered for) to spend even five shilling at
Brinstore.
CHAPTER3
EVERY NEIGHBOURHOOD should have a great lady. The great
lady of Sanditon was Lady Denham; and in their journey from
Willingden to the coast, Mr. Parker gave Charlotte a more detailed
account of her than had been called for before. She had been
necessarily often mentioned at Willingden -- for being his col-
league in speculation, Sanditon itself could not be talked of long
without the introduction of Lady Denham. That she was a very
rich old lady, who had buried two husbands, who knew the value
of money, and was very much looked up to and had a poor cousin
living with her, were facts already known; but some further par-
ticulars of her history and her character served to lighten the
tediousness of a long hill, or a heavy bit of road, and to give the
visiting young lady a suitable knowledge of the person with
whom she might now expect to be daily associating.
Lady Denham had been a rich Miss Brereton, born to wealth
but not to education. Her first husband had been a Mr. Hollis, a
man of considerable property in the country, of which a large share
of the parish of Sanditon, with manor and mansion house, made a
part. He had been an elderly man when she married him, her
own age about thirty. Her motives for such a match could be
little understood at the distance of forty years, but she had so well
nursed and pleased Mr. Hollis that at his death he left her every-
thing -- all his estates, and all at her disposal.
After a widowhood of some years, she had been induced to
marry again. The late Sir Harry Denham, of Denham Park in the
neighbourhood of Sanditon, had succeeded in removing her and her
large income to his own domains, but he could not succeed in the
views of permanently enriching his family which were attributed
to him. She had been too wary to put anything out of her own
power and when, on Sir Harry's decease, she returned again to her
own house at Sanditon, she was said to have made this boast to a
friend: "that though she had <1got>1 nothing but her title from the
family, still she had <1given>1 nothing for it. For the title, it was to
be supposed, she had married; and Mr. Parker acknowledged there
being just such a degree of value for it apparent now as tt? give her
conduct that natural explanation.
"There is at times," said he, "a little self-importance -- but it is
not offensive -- and there are moments, there are points, when her
love of money is carried greatly too far. But she is a good-natured
woman, a very good-natured woman -- a very obliging, friendly
neighbour; a cheerful, independent, valuable character -- and her
faults may be entirely imputed to her want of education. She has
good natural sense, but quite uncultivated. She has a fine active
mind as well as a fine healthy frame for a woman of seventy, and
enters into the improvement of Sanditon with a spirit truly
admirable. Though now and then, a littleness <1will>1 appear. She
cannot look forward quite as I would have her and takes alarm at
a trifling present expense without considering what returns it <1will>1
make her in a year or two. That is, we think <1differently.>1 We now
and then see things <1differently,>1 Miss Heywood. Those who tell
their own story, you know, must be listened to with caution.
When you see us in contact, you will judge for yourself."
Lady Denham was indeed a great lady beyond the common
wants of society, for she had many thousands a year to bequeath,
and three distinct sets of people to be courted by: her own relations,
who might very reasonably wish for her original thirty thousand
pounds among them; the legal heirs of Mr. Hollis, who must hope
to be more indebted to <1her>1 sense of justice than he had allowed
them to be to <1his;>1 and those members of the Denham family whom
her second husband had hoped to make a good bargain for.
By all of these, or by branches of them, she had no doubt been
long, and still continued to be, well attacked; and of these three
divisions, Mr. parker did not hesitate to say that Mr. Hollis's
kindred were the <1least>1 in favour and Sir Harry Denham's the
<1most.>1 The former, he believed, had done themselves irremediable
harm by expressions of very unwise and unjustifiable resentment
at the time of Mr. Hollis's death; the latter had the advantage of
being the remnant of a connection which she certainly valued, of
having been known to her frosn their childhood and of being
always at hand to preserve their interest by reasonable attention.
Sir Edward, the present baronet, nephew to Sir Harry, resided
constantly at Denham Park; and Mr. Parker had little doubt that
he and his sister, Miss Denham, who lived with him, would be
principally remembered in her will. He sincerely hoped it. Miss
Denham had a very small provision; and her brother was a poor
man for his rank in society.
"He is a warm friend to Sanditon," said Mr. Parker, "and his
hand would be as liberal as his heart, had he the power. He would
be a noble coadjutor] As it is, he does what he can and is running
up a tasteful little cottage orne on a strip of waste ground Lady
Denham has granted him, which I have no doubt we shall have
many a candidate for before the end even of <1this>1 season."
Till within the last twelvemonth, Mr. Parker had considered
Sir Edward as standing without a rival, as having the fairest
chance of succeeding to the greater part of all that she had to give;
but there were now another person's claims to be taken into
account -- those of the young female relation whom Lady Denham
had been induced to receive into her family. After having always
protested against any such addition, and long and often enjoyed the
repeated defeats she had given to every attempt of her relations to
introduce this young lady or that young lady as a companion at
Sanditon House, she had brought back with her from London
last Michaelmas a Miss Brereton, who bid fair by her merits to vie
in favour with Sir Edward and to secure for herself and her family
that share of the accumulated property which they had certainly
the best right to inherit.
Mr. parker spoke warmly of Clara Brereton, and the interest of
his story increased very much with the introduction of such a
character. Charlotte listened with more than amusement now; it
was solicitude and enjoyment, as she heard her described to be
lovely, amiable, gentle, unassuming, conducting herself uniformly
with great good sense, and evidently gaining by her innate worth
on the affections of her patroness. Beauty, sweetness, poverty and
dependence do not want the imagination of a man to operate
upon; with due exceptions, woman feels for woman very promptly
and compassionately. He gave the particulars which had led to
Clara's admission at Sanditon as no bad exemplification of that
mixture of character -- that union of littleness with kindness and
good sense, even liberality -- which he saw in Lady Denham.
After having avoided London for many years, principally on
account of these very cousins who were continually writing,
inviting and tormenting her, and whom she was determined to
keep at a distance, she had been obliged to go there last Michael-
mas with the certainty of being detained at least a fortnight.
She had gone to a hotel, living by her own account as prudently
as possible to defy the reputed expensiveness of such a home, and
at the end of three days calling for her bill that she might judge of
her state. Its amount was such as determined her on staying not
another hour in the house, and she was preparing -- in all the
anger and perturbation of her belief in very gross imposition and
her ignorance of where to go for better usage -- to leave the hotel at
all hazards, when the cousins, the politic and lucky cousins, who
seemed always to have a spy on her, introduced themselves at this
important moment; and learning her situation, persuaded her to
accept such a home for the rest of her stay as their humbler house
in a very inferior part of London could offer.
She went, was delighted with her welcome and the hospitality
and attention she received from everybody; found her good
cousins the Breretons beyond her expectation worthy people; and
finally was impelled by a personal knowledge of their narrow
income and pecuniary difficulties to invite one of the girls of the
family to pass the winter with her.
The invitation was to <1one,>1 for six months, with the probability
of another being then to take her place; but in <1selecting>1 the one,
Lady Denham had shown the good part of her character
For, passing by the actual daughters of the house, she had chosen
Clara, a niece, more helpless and more pitiable of course than
any -- a dependent on poverty -- an additional burden on an en-
cumbered circle; and one who had been so low in every worldly
view as, with all her natural endowments and powers, to have
been preparing for a situation little better than a nursery maid.
Clara had returned with her and by her good sense and merit
had now, to all appearance, secured a very strong hold in Lady
Denham's regard. The six months had long been over and not a
syllable was breathed of any change or exchange. She was a
general favourite. The influence of her steady conduct and mild,
gentle temper was felt by everybody. The prejudices which had
met her at first, in some quarters, were all dissipated. She was
felt to be worthy of trust, to be the very companion who would
guide and soften Lady Denham, who would enlarge her mind and
open her hand. She was as thoroughly amiable as she was lovely;
and since having had the advantage of their Sanditon breezes, that
loveliness was complete.
CHAPTER4
"AND WHOSE very snug-looking place is this?" said Charlotte as,
in a sheltered dip within two miles of the sea, they passed close
by a moderate-sized house, well fenced and planted, and rich in the
garden, orchard and meadows which are the best embellishments
of such a dwelling. "It seems to have as many comforts about it as
Willingden."
"Ah," said Mr. parker. "This is my old house, the house of my
forefathers, the house where I and all my brothers and sisters
were born and bred, and where my own three eldest children
were born; where Mrs. Parker and I lived till within the last two
years, till our new house was finished. I am glad you are pleased
with it. It is an honest old place; and Hillier keeps it in very good
order. I have given it up, you know, to the man who occupies the
chief of my land. He gets a better house by it, and I, a rather
better situation] One other hill brings us to Sanditon -- modern
Sanditon -- a beautiful spot. Our ancestors, you know, always
built in a hole, Here were we, pent down in this little contracted
nook, without air or view, only one mile and three quarters from
the noblest expanse of ocean between the South Foreland and
Land's End, and without the smallest advantage from it. You will
not think I have made a bad exchange when we reach Trafalgar
House -- which by the bye, I almost wish I had not named
Trafalgar -- for Waterloo is more the thing now. However,
Waterloo is in reserve; and if we have encouragement enough this
year for a little crescent to be ventured on (as I trust we shall)
then we shall be able to call it Waterloo Cresent -- and the name
joined to the form of the building, which always takes, will give us
the command of lodgers. In a good season we should have more
applications than we could attend to."
"It was always a very comfortable house," said Mrs. Parker,
looking at it through the back window with something like the
fondness of regret. "And such a nice garden -- such an excellent
garden."
"Yes, my love, but <1that>1 we may be said to carry with us. It
supplies us, as before, with all the fruit and vegetables we want.
And we have, in fact, all the comfort of an excellent kitchen garden
without the constant eyesore of its formalities or the yearly
nuisance of its decaying vegetation. Who can endure a cabbage
bed in October?"
"Oh dear, yes. We are quite as well off for gardenstuff as ever
we were; for if it is forgot to be brought at any time, we can always
buy what we want at Sanditon House. The gardener there is glad
enough to supply us. But it was a nice place for the children to
run about in. So shady in summer]"
"My dear, we shall have shade enough on the hill, and more
than enough in the course of a very few years. The growth of my
plantations is a general astonishment. In the meanwhile we have
the canvas awning which gives us the most complete comfort
within doors. And you can get a parasol at Whitby's for little
Mary at any time, or a large bonnet at Jebb's. And as for the
boys, I must say I would rather <1them>1 run about in the sunshine
than not. I am sure we agree, my dear, in wishing our boys to be
as hardy as possible."
"Yes indeed, I am sure we do. And I will get Mary a little
parasol, which will make her as proud as can be. How grave she
will walk about with it and fancy herself quite a little woman.
Oh, I have not the smallest doubt of our being a great deal better
off where we are now. If we any of us want to bathe, we have not
a quarter of a mile to go. But you know," still looking back,
"one loves to look at an old friend at a place where one has been
happy- The MiIliers did not seem to feel the storms last winter
at all. I remember seeing Mrs. Millier after one of those dreadful
nights, when <1we>1 had been literally rocked in our bed, and she did
not seem at all aware of the wind being anything more than
common."
"Yes, yes, that's likely enough. <1We>1 have all the grandeur of the
storm with less real danger because the wind, meeting with
nothing to oppose or confine it around our house, simply rages
and passes on; while down in this gutter, nothing is known of the
state of the air below the tops of the trees; and the inhabitants may
be taken totally unawares by one of those dreadful currents,
which do more mischief in a valley when they <1do>1 arise than an
open country ever experiences in the heaviest gale. But, my dear
love, as to gardenstuff, you were saying that any accidental
omission is supplied in a moment by Lady Denham's gardener.
But it occurs to me that we ought to go elsewhere upon such
occasions, and that old Stringer and his son have a higher claim.
I encouraged him to set up, you know, and am afraid he does
not do very well. That is, there has not been time enough yet.
He <1will>1 do very well beyond a doubt. But at first it is uphill
work, and therefore we must give him what help we can. When
any vegetables or fruit happen to be wanted -- and it will not be
amiss to have them often wanted, to have something or other
forgotten most days; just to have a nominal supply, you know,
that poor old Andrew may not lose his daily job-- but in fact
to buy the chief of our consumption from the Stringers."
"Very well, my love, that can be easily done. And cook will
be satisfied, which will be a great comfort, for she is always
complaining of old Andrew now and says he never brings
her what she wants. There -- now the old house is quite left
behind. What is it your brother Sidney says about its being
a hospital?"
"Oh, my dear Mary, merely a joke of his. He pretends to
advise me to make a hospital of it. Me pretends to laugh at my
improvements. Sidney says anything, you know. He has always
said what he chose, of and to us all. Most families have such a
member among them, I believe, Miss Heywood. There is some-
one in most families privileged by superior abilities or spirits to
say anything. In ours, it is Sidney, who is a very clever young
man and with great powers of pleasing. He lives too much in the
world to be settled; that is his only fault. Me is here and there
and everywhere. I wish we may get him to Sanditon. I should
like to have you acquainted with him. And it would be a fine
thing for the place] Such a young man as Sidney, with his neat
equipage and fashionable air. You and I, Mary, know what effect
it might have. Many a respectable family, many a careful mother,
many a pretty daughter might it secure us to the prejudice of
Eastbourne and Hastings."
They were now approaching the church and neat village of old
Sanditon, which stood at the foot of the hill they were afterwards to
ascend -- a hill whose side was covered with the woods and
enclosures of Sanditon House and whose height ended in an open
down where the new buildings might soon be looked for. A
branch only of the valley, winding more obliquely towards the sea,
gave a passage to an inconsiderable stream, and formed at its
mouth a third habitable division in a small cluster of fishermen's
houses. The original village contained little more than cottages;
but the spirit of the day had been caught, as Mr. Parker observed
with delight to Charlotte, and two Dr three of the best of them were
smartened up with a white curtain and "Lodgings to let"; and
farther on, in the little green court of an old farm house, two
females in elegant white were actually to be seen with their books
and camp stools; and in turning the corner of the baker's shop,
the sound of a harp might be heard through the upper casement,
Such sights and sounds were highly blissful to Mr. Parker.
Not that he had any personal concern in the success of the village
itself; for considering it as too remote from the beach, he had done
nothing there; but it was a most valuable proof of the increasing
fashion of the place altogether. If the <1village>1 could attract, the
hill might be nearly full. He anticipated an amazing season. At
the same time last year (late in July) there had not been a single
lodger in the village] Nor did he remember any during the whole
summer, excepting one family of children who came from London
for sea air after the whooping cough, and whose mother would
not let them be nearer the shore for fear of their tumbling in.
'Civilization, civilization indeed]" cried Mr. Parker, delighted.
"Look, my dear Mary, look at William Heeley's windows. Blue
shoes, and nankin boots] Who would have expected such a
sight at a shoemaker"s in old Sanditon] This is new within the
month. There was no blue shoe when we passed this way a month
ago. Glorious indeed] Well, I think I <1have>1 done something in
my day. Now, for our hill, our health-breathing hill."
In ascending, they passed the lodge gates of Sanditon House
and saw the top of the house itself among its groves. It was the
last building of former days in that line of the parish. A little
higher up, the modern began; and in crossing the down, a
prospect House, a Bellevue Cottage and a Denham Place were
to be looked at by Charlotte with the calmness of amused
curiosity, and by Mr. parker with the eager eye which hoped to
see scarcely any empty houses. More bills at the windows than
he had calculated on, and a smaller show of company on the hill
-- fewer carriages, fewer walkers. He had fancied it just the
time of day for them to be all returning from their airings to
dinner; but the sands and the Terrace always attracted some, and
the tide must be flowing -- about half-tide now. He longed to be
on the sands, the cliffs, at his own house, and everywhere out of
his house at once. His spirits rose with the very sight of the sea
and he could almost feel his ankle getting stronger already.
Trafalgar House, on the most elevated spot on the down, was
a light, elegant building, standing in a small lawn with a very
young plantation round it, about a hundred yards from the brow
of a steep but not very lofty cliff, and the nearest to it of every
building, excepting one short row of smart-looking houses called
the Terrace, with a broad walk in front, aspiring to be the Mall of
the place. In this row were the best milliner's shop and the library
a little detached from it, the hotel and billiard room. Here began
the descent to the beach and to the bathing machines. And this
was therefore the favourite spot for beautey and fashion.
At Trafalgar House, rising at a little distance behind the Terrace,
the travellers were safely set down; and all was happiness and joy
between Papa and Mama and their children; while Charlotte,
having received possession of her apartment, found amusement
enough in standing at her ample Venetian window and looking
over the miscellaneous foreground of unfinished buildings, waving
linen and tops of houses, to the sea, dancing and sparkling in
sunshine and freshness.
CMAPTER5
WHEN THEY MET before dinner, Mr. Parker was looking over let-
ters.
"Not a line from Sidney]" said he. "He is an idle fellow. I
sent him an account of my accident from Willingden and thought
he would have vouchsafed me an answer. But perhaps it implies
that he is coming himself. I trust it may. But here is a letter
from one of my sisters. <1They>1 never fail me. Women are the
only correspondents to be depended on. Now, Mary," smiling
at his wife, "before I open it, what shall we guess as to the state of
health of those it comes from -- or rather what would Sidney
say if he were here? Sidney is a saucy fellow, Miss Heywood.
And you must know, he will have it there is a good deal of
imagination in my two sisters' complaints. But it really is not
so -- or very little. They have wretched health, as you have
heard us say frequently, and are subject to a variety of very serious
disorders. Indeed, I do not believe they know what a day's health
is. And at the same time, they are such excellent useful women
and have so much energy of character that where any good is to
be done, they force themselves on exertions which, to those who
do not thoroughly know them, have an extraordinary appearance.
But there is realIy no affectation about them, you know. They
have only weaker constitutions and stronger minds than are often
met with, either separate or together. And our youngest brother,
who lives with them and who is not much above twenty, I am
sorry to say is almost as great an invalid as themselves. He is so
delicate that he can engage in no profession. Sidney laughs at
him. But it really is no joke, though Sidney often makes me
laugh at them all in spite of myself. Now, if he were here, I know
he would be offering odds that either Susan, Diana or Arthur
would appear by this letter to have been at the point of death
within the last month."
Having run his eye over the letter, he shook his head and
began,
"No chance of seeing them at Sanditon I am sorry to say. A
very indifferent account of them indeed. Seriously, a very
indifferent account. Mary, you will be quite sorry to hear how ill
they have been and are. Miss Heywood, if you will give me leave,
I will read Diana's letter aloud. I like to have my friends
acquainted with each other and I am afraid this is the only sort
of acquaintance l shall have the means of accomplishing between
you. And I can have no scruple on Diana's account; for her
letters show her exactly as she is, the most active, friendly, warm-
hearted being in existence, and therefore must give a good im-
pression."
He read:
<1My dear Tom, we were all much grieved at Wour accident, and
if you had not described yourself asfallen into such very good
hands, I should have been with you at all hazards the day
after the receipt of your letter, though it found me suffering
under a more severe attack than usual of my old grievance,
spasmodic bile, and hardly able to crawlfrom my bed to the
sofa. But how were you treated.? Send me more Particulars
in your next. If indeed a simple sprain, as you denominate
it, nothing would have been so judicious as friction, friction
by the hand alone, supposing it could be applied instantly.
Two years ago I happened to be calling on Mrs. Sheldon
when her coachman sprained hisfoot as he was cleaning the>1
<1carriage and could hardly limp into the house, but by the
immediate use offriction alone steadily perservered in (and
I rubbed his ankle with my own handfor six hours without
intermission) he was wellin three days.
Many thanks, my dear Tom, for the kindness with respect
to us, which had so large a share in bringing onyour accident.
But pray never run into perilagain in looking for an apothe-
cary on our account, for hadyou the most experienced man in
his line settled at Sanditon, it would be no recommendation
to us. We have entirely done with the whole medical tribe.
We have consulted physician after physician in vain, till we
are quite convinced that they can do nothing for us and that
we must trust to our own knowledge of our own wretched
constitutions for any relief. But if you think it advisable for
the interest of the place to get a medical man there, I will
undertake the commission with pleasure, and have no doubt
of succeeding. I could soon put the necessary irons in the
fire. As for getting to Sanditon myself, it is quite an impos-
sibility. I grieve to say that I dare not attempt it but my
feelings tell me too plainly that, in my present state, the sea
air would probably be the death of me. And neither of my
dear companions will leave me or I would promote their
going down to you for a fortnight. But in truth, I doubt
whether Susan"s nerves would be equal to the effort. She
has been suffering much from the headache, and six leeches
a day for ten days together relieved her so little that we
thought it right to change our measures,- and being con-
vinced on examination that mach of the evillay in her gum, I
persuaded her to attack the disorder there. She has
accordingly had three teeth drawn, and is decidedly better,
but her nerves are a good deal deranged. She can only
speak in a whisper andfainted away twice this morning on
poor Arthur's trying to suppress a cough. He, I am happy>1
<1to say, is tolerably well though more languid than I like
and I fear for his liver. I have heard nothing of Sidney since
your being together in town, but conclude his scheme to the
Isle of Wight has not taken place or we should have seen him
in his way.
Most sincerely do we wish you a good season at Sanditon,
and though we cannot contribute to your beau monde in
person, we are doing our utmost to sendyou company worth
having and think we may safely reckon on securing you two
large families. One a rich West Indianfrom Surrey, the other
a most respectable Girls Boarding School, or Academy, from
Camberwell. I will not tell you how many people I have
employed in the business -- wheel within wheel. But suc-
cess more than repays. Yours most affectionately -- etcetera.>1
"Well," said Mr. parker, as he finished. "Though I dare sa
Sidney might find something extremely entertaining in this letter
and make us laugh for half an hour together, I declare l, by myself
can see nothing in it but what is either very pitiable or very credit-
able. With all their sufferings, you perceive how much they ar
occupied in promoting the good of others] So anxious for
Sanditon] Two large families -- one for Prospect House prob
ably, the other for Number two Denham place or the end house
of the Terrace, with extra beds at the hotel. I told you my sister
were excellent women, Miss Heywood."
"And I am sure they must be very extraordinary ones," sai
Charlotte. "I am astonished at the cheerful style of the letter,
considering the state in which both sisters appear to be. Thre
teeth drawn at once -- frightful] Your sister Diana seems almost
as ill as possible, but those three teeth of your sister Susan s ar
more distressing than all the rest."
"Oh, they are so used to the operation -- to every operation
and have such fortitude]"
"Your sisters know what they are about, I dare say, but their
measures seem to touch on extremes. I feel that in any illness
l should be so anxious for professional advice, so very little
venturesome for myself or anybody I loved] But then, <1we>1 have
been so healthy a family that I can be no judge of what the habit of
self-doctoring may do."
"Why to own the truth," said Mrs. Parker, "I do think the Miss
Parkers carry it too far sometimes. And so do you, my love, you
know. You often think they would be better if they would leave
themselves more alone -- and especially Arthur. I know you think
it agreat pity they should give <1him>1 such a turn for being ill."
"Well, well, my dear Mary, I grant you, it <1is>1 unfortunate for
poor Arthur that at his time of life he should be encouraged to give
way to indisposition. It <1is>1 bad that he should be fancying himself
too sickly for any profession and sit down at one and twenty, on
the interest of his own little fortune, without any idea of attempt-
ing to improve it or of engaging in any occupation that may be of
use to himself or others. But let us talk of pleasanter things.
These two large families are just what we wanted. But here is
something at hand pleasanter still--Morgan with his 'Dinner on
table.' "
CHAPTER 6
THE PARTY were very soon moving after dinner. Mr. Parker
could not be satisfied without an early visit to the library and the
library subscription book; and Charlotte was glad to see as much
and as quickly as possible where all was new.
They were out in the very quietest part of a watering-place day,
when the important business of dinner or of sitting after dinner was
going on in almost every inhabited lodging. Here and there might
be seen a solitary elderly man, who was forced to move early and
walk for health; but in general, it was a thorough pause of com-
pany. It was emptiness and tranquillity on the Terrace, the cliffs
and the sands. The shops were deserted. The straw hats and
pendant lace seemed left to their fate both within the house and
without, and Mrs. Whitby at the library was sitting in her inner
room, reading one of her own novels for want of employment.
The list of subscribers was but commonplace. The Lady
Denham, Miss Brereton, Mr. and Mrs. Parker, Sir Edward Den-
ham and Miss Denham, whose names might be said to lead off the
season, were followed by nothing better than: Mrs. Mathews, Miss
Mathews, Miss E. Mathews, Miss H. Mathews; Dr. and Mrs.
Brown; Mr. Richard pratt; Lieutenant Smith R.N.; Captain Little
-- Limehouse; Mrs. Jane Fisher, Miss Fisher, Miss Scroggs;
Reverend Mr. Hanking; Mr. Beard -- Solicitor, Grays Inn; Mrs.
Davis and Miss Merryweather.
Mr. parker could not but feel that the list was not only without
distinction but less numerous than he had hoped. It was but July,
however, and August and September were the months. And
besides, the promised large families from Surrey and Camberwell
were an ever-ready consolation.
Mrs. Whitby came forward without delay from her literary
recess, delighted to see Mr. Parker, whose manners recommended
him to everybody, and they were fully occupied in their various
civilities and communications; while Charlotte, having added her
name to the list as the first offering to the success of the season,
was busy in some immediate purchases for the further good of
everybody as soon as Miss Whitby could be hurried down from
her toilette, with all her glossy curls and smart trinkets, to wait
on her.
The library, of course, afforded everything: all the useless
things in the world that could not be done without; and among
so many pretty temptations, and with so much good will for Mr.
parker to encourage expenditure, Charlotte began to feel that
she must check herself -- or rather she reflected that at two and
twenty there could be no excuse for her doing otherwise -- and
that it would not do for her to be spending all her money the very
first evening. She took up a book; it happened to be a volume of
<1Camilla.>1 She had not Camilla's youth, and had no intention of
having her distress; so she turned from the drawers of rings and
brooches, repressed further solicitation and paid for what she
had bought.
For her particular gratification, they were then to take a turn on
the cliff; but as they quitted the library they were met by two ladies
whose arrival made an alteration necessary: Lady Denham and
Miss Brereton. They had been to Trafalgar House and been
directed thence to the library; and though Lady Denham was a
great deal too active to regard the walk of a mile as anything
requiring rest, and talked of going home again directly, the
parkers knew that to be pressed into their house and obliged to
take her tea with them would suit her best; and therefore the stroll
on the cliff gave way to an immediate return home.
"No, no," said her Ladyship. "I will not have you hurry your
tea on my account. I know you like your tea late. My early
hours are not to put my neighbours to inconvenience. No, no,
Miss Clara and I will get back to our own tea. We came out
with no other thought. We wanted just to see you and make
sure of your being really come -- but we get back to our own
tea. "
She went on however towards Trafalgar House and took posses-
sion of the drawing room very quietly without seeming to hear a
word of Mrs. parker's orders to the servant, as they entered, to
bring tea directly. Charlotte was fully consoled for the loss of
her walk by finding herself in company with those whom the
conversation of the morning had given her a great curiosity to
see. She obsetved them well.
Lady Denham was of middle height, stout, upright and alert
in her motions, with a shrewd eye and self-satisfied air but not
an unagreeable countenance; and though her manner was rather
downright and abrupt, as of a person who valued herself on being
free-spoken, there was a good humour and cordiality about
her -- a civility and readiness to be acquainted with Charlotte
herself and a heartiness of welcome towards her old friends --
which was inspiring the good will she seemed to feel.
And as for Miss Brereton, her appearance so completely
justified Mr. parker's praise that Charlotte thought she had never
beheld a more lovely or more interesting young woman. Elegantly
tall, regularly handsome, with great delicacy of complexion and
soft blue eyes, a sweetly modest and yet naturally graceful address,
Charlotte could see in her only the most perfect representation of
whatever heroine might be most beautiful and bewitching in all
the numerous volumes they had left behind on Mrs. Whitby's
shelves. perhaps it might be partly owing to her having just
issued from a circulating library but she could not separate the
idea of a complete heroine from Clara Brereton. Her situation
with Lady Denham so very much in favour of it] She seemed
placed with her on purpose to be ill-used. Such poverty and
dependence joined to such beauty and merit seemed to leave no
choice in the business.
These feelings were not the result of any spirit of romance in
Charlotte herself. No, she was a very sober-minded young lady,
sufficiently well-read in novels to supply her imagination with
amusement, but not at all unreasonably influenced by them;
and while she pleased herself the first five minutes with fancying
the persecution which <1ought>1 to be the lot of the interesting Clara,
especially in the form of the most barbarous conduct on Lady
Denham's side, she found no reluctance to admit from subsequent
observation that they appeared to be on very comfortable terms.
She could see nothing worse in Lady Denham than the sort of old-
fashioned formality of always calling her <1Miss Clara;>1 nor anything
objectionable in the degree of observance and attention which
Clara paid. On one side it seemed protecting kindness, on the
other grateful and affectionate respect.
The conversation turned entirely upon Sanditon, its present
number of visitants and the chances of a good season.
lt was evident that Lady Denham had more anxiety, more fears
of loss, than her coadjutor. She wanted to have the place fill
faster and seemed to have many harassing apprehensions of the
lodgings being in some instances underlet. Miss Diana parker's
two large families were not forgotten.
"Very good, very good," said her Ladyship. "A West Indy
family and a school. That sounds well. That will bring money."
"No people spend more freely, I believe, than West Indians,"
observed Mr. parker.
"Aye, so l have heard; and because they have full purses fancy
themselves equal, maybe, to your old country families. But then,
they who scatter their money so freely never think of whether they
may not be doing mischief by raising the price of things. And I
have heard that's very much the case with your West-injines.
And if they come among us to raise the price of our necessaries of
life, we shall not much thank them, Mr. Parker."
"My dear Madam, they can only raise the price of consumable
articles by such an extraordinary demand for them and such a
diffusion of money among us as must do us more good than harm.
Our butchers and bakers and traders in general cannot get rich
without bringing prosperity to <1us.>1 If <1they>1 do not gain, our rents
must be insecure; and in proportion to their profit must be ours
eventually in the increased value of our houses."
"Oh] well. But I should not like to have butcher's meat raised,
though. And I shall keep it down as long as I can. Aye, that
young lady smiles, l see. I dare say she thinks me an odd sort
of creature; but <1she>1 will come to care about such matters herself
in time. Yes, yes, my dear, depend upon it, you will be thinking
of the price of butcher's meat in time, though you may not happen
to have quite such a servants' hall to feed as I have. And I do
believe those are best off that have fewest servants. I am not a
woman of parade as all the world knows, and if it was not for
what I owe to poor Mr. Hollis's memory, I should never keep up
Sanditon House as I do. (t is not for my own pleasure. Well,
Mr. Parker, and the other is a boarding school, a French boarding
school, is it? No harm in that. They'll stay their six weeks.
And out of such a number, who knows but some may be con-
sumptive and want asses' milk; and I have two milch asses at this
present time. But perhaps the little Misses may hurt the furni-
ture. I hope they will have a good sharp governess to look after
them."
Poor Mr. parker got no more credit from Lady Denham than
he had from his sisters for the object which had taken him to
Willingden.
"Lord] my dear sir," she cried. "How could you think of such
a thing? I am very sorry you met with your accident, but upon
my word, you deserved it. Going after a doctor] Why, what
should we do with a doctor here? It would be only encouraging
our servants and the poor to fancy themselves ill if there was a
doctor at hand. Oh] pray, let us have none of the tribe at
Sanditon. We go on very well as we are. There is the sea and
the downs and my milch asses. And I have told Mrs. Whitby
that if anybody inquires for a chamber-horse, they may be
supplied at a fair rate -- poor Mr. Hollis's chamber-horse, as
gt?od as new -- and what can people want for more? Here
have l lived seventy good years in the world and never took
physic above twice -- and never saw the face of a doctor in all
my life on my <1own>1 account. And I verily believe if my poor
dear Sir Harry had never seen one neither, he would have been
alive now. Ten fees, one after another, did the man take who
sent <1him>1 out of the world. I beseech you Mr. Parker, no
doctors here." The tea things were brought in. "Oh, my dear
Mrs. parker, you should not indeed -- why would you do so?
I was just upon the point of wishing you good evening. But
since you are so very neighbourly, I believe Miss Clara and I
must stay."
CHAPTER 7
THE POPULARITY of the Parkers brought them some visitors the
very next morning; amongst them, Sir Edward Denham and his
sister who having been at Sanditon House, drove on to pay their
compliments; and the duty of letter writing being accomplished,
Charlotte was settled with Mrs. parker in the drawing room in
time to see them all.
The Denhams were the only ones to excite particular attention.
Charlotte was glad to complete her knowledge of the family by an
introduction to them; and found them, the better half at least (for
while single, the <1gentleman>1 may sometimes be thought the better
half of the pair) not unworthy of notice.
Miss Denham was a fine young woman, but cold and reserved,
giving the idea of one who felt her consequence with pride and her
poverty with discontent, and who was immediately gnawed by the
want of a handsomer equipage than the simple gig in which they
travelled, and which their groom was leading about still in her
sight.
Sir Edward was much her superior in air and manner -- cer-
tainly handsome, but yet more to be remarked for his very good
address and wish of paying attention and giving pleasure. He
came into the room remarkably well, talked much -- and very
much to Charlotte, by whom he chanced to be placed -- and she
soon perceived that he had a fine countenance, a most pleasing
gentleness of voice and a great deal of conversation. She liked
him. Sober-minded as she was, she thought him agreeable and
did not quarrel with the suspicion of his finding her equally so,
which <1would>1 arise from his evidently disregarding his sister's
motion to go, and persisting in his station and his discourse.
l make no apologies for my heroine's vanity. If there are
young ladies in the world at her time of life more dull of fancy
and more careless of pleasing, I know them not and never wish to
know them.
At last, from the low French windows of the drawing room
which commanded the road and all the paths across the down,
Charlotte and Sir Edward as they sat could not but observe Lady
Denham and Miss Brereton walking by; and there was instantly
a slight change in Sir Edward's countenance -- with an anxious
glance after them as they proceeded -- followed by an early pro-
posal to his sister, not merely for moving, but for walking on
together to the Terrace, which altogether gave a hasty turn to
Charlotte's fancy, cured her of her half-hour's fever, and placed
her in a more capable state of judging, when Sir Edward was gone,
of <1how>1 agreeable he had actually been. "perhaps there was a
good deal in his air and address; and his title did him no harm."
She was very soon in his company again. The first object of
the Parkers, when their house was cleared of morning visitors, was
to get out themselves. The Terrace was the attraction to all.
Everybody who walked must begin with the Terrace; and there,
seated on one of the two green benches by the gravel walk, they
found the united Denham party; but though united in the gross,
very distinctly divided again: the two superior ladies being at one
end of the bench, and Sir Edward and Miss Brereton at the
other.
Charlotte s first glance told her that Sir Edward's air was that of
a lover. There could be no doubt of his devotion to Clara. How
Clara received it was less obvious, but she was inclined to think
not very favourably; for though sitting thus apart with him (which
probably she might not have been able to preveno her air was
calm and grave.
That the young lady at the other end of the bench was doing
penance was indubitable. The difference in Miss Denham's
countenance, the change from Miss Denham sitting in cold
grandeur in Mrs. parker's drawing room, to be kept from silence
by the efforts of others, to Miss Denham at Lady Denham's
elbow, listening and talking with smiling attention or solicitous
eagerness, was very striking -- and very amusing or very melan-
choly, just as satire or morality might prevail. Miss Denham's
character was pretty well decided with Charlotte.
Sir Edward's required longer observation. He surprised
her by quitting Clara immediately on their all joining and agreeing
to walk, and by addressing his attentions entirely to herself.
Stationing himself close by her, he seemed to mean to detach her
as much as possible from the rest of the party and to give her the
whole of his conversation. He began, in a tone of great taste and
feeling, to talk of the sea and the sea shore; and ran with energy
through all the usual phrases employed in praise of their sublimity
and descriptive of the <1undescribable>1 emotions they excite in the
mind of sensibility. The terrific grandeur of the ocean in a storm,
its glass surface in a calm, its gulls and its samphire and the deep
fathoms of its abysses, its quick vicissitudes, its direful deceptions,
its mariners tempting it in sunshine and overwhelmed by the
sudden tempest -- all were eagerly and fluently touched; rather
commonplace perhaps, but doing very well from the lips of a
handsome Sir Edward, and she could not but think him a man of
feeling, till he began to stagger her by the number of his quotations
and the bewilderment of some of his sentences.
"Do you remember," said he, "Scott's beautiful lines on the
sea? Oh] what a description they convey] They are never out of
my thoughts when I walk here. That man who can read them
unmoved must have the nerves of an assassin] Heaven defend
me from meeting such a man unarmed."
"What description do you mean?" said Charlotte. "I remember
none at this moment, of the sea, in either of Scott s poems.
"Do you not indeed? Nor can I exactly recall the beginning at
this moment. But -- you cannot have forgotten his description
of woman --
<1Oh. Woman in our hours of ease>1 --
Delicious] Delicious] Had he written nothing more, he would
have been immortal. And then again, that unequalled, unrivalled
address to parental affection --
<1Some feelings are to mortals given>1
<1With less of earth in them than heaven>1 -- <1etcetera.>1
But while we are on the subject of poetry, what think you, Miss
Heywood, of Burns's lines to his Mary? Oh] there is pathos to
madden one] If ever there was a man who <1felt,>1 it was Burns.
Montgomery has all the fire of poetry, Wordsworth has the true
soul of it, Campbell in his pleasures of hope has touched the
extreme of our sensations --
<1Like angels' visits, few and far between.>1
Can you conceive anything more subduing, more melting, more
fraught with the deep sublime than that line? But Burns --I
confess my sense of his pre-eminence, Miss Heywood. If Scott
<1has a>1 fault, it is the want of passion. Tender, elegant, descriptive
-- but <1tame.>1 The man who cannot do justice to the attributes of
woman is my contempt. Sometimes indeed a flash of feeling
seems to irradiate him, as in the lines we were speaking of --
<1Oh. Woman in our hours of ease>1 --
But Burns is always on fire. His soul was the altar in which
lovely woman sat enshrined, his spirit truly breathed the immortal
incense which is her due."
I have read several of Burns's poems with great delight," said
Charlotte as soon as she had time to speak. "But I am not poetic
enough to separate a man's poetry entirely from his character;
and poor Burns's known irregularities greatly interrupt my
enjoyment of his lines. I have difficulty in depending on the
<1truth>1 of his feelings as a lover. I have not faith in the <1sincerity>1
of the affections of a man of his description. He felt and he
wrote and he forgot."
"Oh] no, no, ' exclaimed Sir Edward in an ecstasy. "He was all
ardour and truth] His genius and his susceptibilities might lead
him into some aberrations -- but who is perfect? It were hyper-
criticism, it were pseudo-philosophy to expect from the soul of
high-toned genius the grovellings of a common mind. The
coruscations of talent, elicited by impassioned feeling in the
breast of man, are perhaps incompatible with some of the prosaic
decencies of life; nor can you, loveliest Miss Heywood," speaking
with an air of deep sentiment, "nor can any woman be a fair judge
of what a man may be propelled to say, write or do by the
sovereign impulses of illimitable ardour."
This was very fine -- but if Charlotte understood it at all, not
very moral; and being moreover by no means pleased with his
extraordinary style of compliment, she gravely answered,
"I really know nothing of the matter. This is a charming day.
The wind, I fancy, must be southerly."
"Happy, happy wind, to engage Miss Heywood's thoughts]"
She began to think him downright silly. His choosing to walk
with her, she had learnt to understand. It was done to pique
Miss Brereton. She had read it, in an anxious glance or two on
his side; but why he should talk so much nonsense, unless he
could do no better, was unintelligible. He seemed very sentimen-
tal, very full of some feeling or other, and very much addicted to
all the newest-fashioned hard words, had not a very clear brain,
she presumed, and talked a good deal by rote. The future might
explain him further.
But when there was a proposition for going into the library, she
felt that she had had quite enough of Sir Edward for one morning
and very gladly accepted Lady Denham's invitation of remaining
t?n the Terrace with her. The others all left them, Sir Edward
with looks of very gallant despair in tearing himself away, and
they united their agreeableness; that is, Lady Denham, like a true
great lady, talked and talked only of her own concerns, and
Charlotte listened, amused in considering the contrast between
her two companions. Certainly there was no strain of doubtful
sentiment nor any phrase of difficult interpretation in Lady
Denham's discourse. Taking hold of Charlotte's arm with the
ease t?f one who felt that any notice from her was an honour, and
communicative from the influence of the same conscious impor-
tance or a natural love of talking, she immediately said in a tone
of great satisfaction and with a look of arch sagacity,
"Miss Esther wants me to invite her and her brother to spend a
week with me at Sanditon House, as I did last summer. But I
shan't. She has been trying to get round me every way with her
praise of this and her praise of that; but I saw what she was about.
l saw through it all. I am not very easily taken in, my dear."
Charlotte could think of nothing more harmless to be said than
the simple enquiry of --
"Sir Edward and Miss Denham?"
"Yes, my dear. My <1young folks,>1 as I call them sometimes, for
I take them very much by the hand. I had them with me last
summer, about this time, for a week; from Monday to Monday;
and very delighted and thankful they were. For they are very good
young people, my dear. I would not have you think that I <1only>1
notice them for poor dear Sir Harry's sake. No, no; they are very
deserving themselves or, trust me, they would not be so much in
my company. I am not the woman to help anybody blindfold.
I always take care to know what I am about and who I have to
deal with before I stir a finger. I do not think I was ever over-
reached in my life. And that is a good deal for a woman to say
that has been married twice. Poor dear Sir Harry, between
ourselves, thought at first to have got more. But, with a bit of
a sigh, he is gone, and we must not find fault with the dead.
Nobody could live happier together than us -- and he was a very
honourable man, quite the gentleman of ancient family. And when
he died, I gave Sir Edward his gold watch."
She said this with a look at her companion which implied its
right to produce a great impression; and seeing no rapturous
astonishment in Charlotte s countenance, added quickly,
"He did not bequeath it to his nephew, my dear. It was no
bequest. It was not in the will. He only told me, and <1that>1 but
once, that he should wish his nephew to have his watch; but it need
not have been binding if l had not chose it."
"Very kind indeed] Very handsome]" said Charlotte, absolutely
forced to affect admiration.
"Yes, my dear, and it is not the <1only>1 kind thing I have done by
him. I have been a very liberal friend to Sir Edward. And poor
young man, he needs it bad enough. For though I am <1only>1 the
<1dowager,>1 my dear, and he is the <1heir,>1 things do not stand between
us in the way they commonly do between those two parties. Not
a shilling do I receive from the Denham estate. Sir Edward has
no payments to make <1me.>1 He don't stand uppermost, believe
me. It is I that help <1him.>1
"Indeed] He is a very fine young man, particularly elegant in
his address." This was said chiefly for the sake of saying some-
thing, but Charlotte directly saw that it was laying her open <1to>1
suspicion by Lady Denham's giving a shrewd glance at her and
replying,
"Yes, yes, he is very well to look at. And it is to be hoped that
some lady of large fortune will think so, for Sir Edward <1must>1
marry for money. He and I often talk that matter over. A
handsome young fellow like him will go smirking and smiling about
and paying girls compliments, but he knows he <1must>1 marry for
money. And Sir Edward is a very steady young man in the main
and has got very good notions.
"Sir Edward Denham," said Charlotte, "with such personal
advantages may be almost stire of getting a woman of fortune,
if he chooses it."
This glorious sentiment seemed quite to remove suspicion.
"Aye my dear, that's very sensibly said," cried Lady Denham.
"And if we could but get a young heiress to Sanditon] But
heiresses are monstrous scarce] I do not think we have had an
heiress here -- or even a co since Sanditon has been a public
place. Families come after families but, as far as I can learn, it
is not one in a hundred of them that have any real property, landed
or funded. An income perhaps, but no property. Clergymen
maybe, or lawyers from town, or half-pay officers, or widows with
only a jointure. And what good can such people do anybody?
Except just as they take our empty houses and, between ourselves,
I think they are great fools for not staying at home. Now if we
could get a young heiress to be sent here for her health -- and if
she was ordered to drink asses' milk I could supply her -- and, as
soon as she got well, have her fall in love with Sir Edward]"
"That would be very fortunate indeed."
"And Miss Esther must marry somebody of fortune too. She
must get a rich husband. Ah, young ladies that have no money
are very much to be pitied] But," after a short pause, "if Miss
Esther thinks to talk me into inviting them to come and stay at
Sanditon Mouse, she will find herself mistaken. Matters are
altered with me since last summer, you know. I have Miss Clara
with me now which makes a great difference."
She spoke this so seriously that Charlotte instantly saw in it the
evidence of real penetration and prepared for some fuller remarks;
but it was followed only by,
"I have no fancy for having my house as full as an hotel. I
should not choose to have my two housemaids' time taken up all
the morning in dusting out bed rooms. They have Miss Clara's
room to put to rights as well as my own every day. If they had
hard places, they would want higher wages."
For objections of this nature, Charlotte was not prepared. She
found it so impossible even to affect sympathy that she could
say nothing. Lady Denham soon added, with great glee,
"And besides all this, my dear, am I to be filling my house to the
prejudice of Sanditon? If people want to be by the sea, why
don't they take lodgings? Here are a great many empty houses
-- three on this very Terrace. No fewer than three lodging papers
staring me in the face at this very moment, Numbers three, four
and eight. Eight, the corner house, may be too large for them,
but either of the two others are nice little snug houses, very fit for
a young gentleman and his sister. And so, my dear, the next
time Miss Esther begins talking about the dampness of Denham
park and the good bathing always does her, I shall advise them to
come and take one of these lodgings for a fortnight. Don t you
think that will be very fair? Charity begins at home, you know."
Charlotte's feelings were divided between amusement and
indignation, but indignation had the larger and the increasing
share. She kept her countenance and she kept a civil silence.
She could not carry her forbearance farther, but without attempt-
ing to listen longer, and only conscious that Lady Denham was
still talking on in the same way, allowed her thoughts to form
themselves into such a meditation as this:
"She is thoroughly mean. I had not expected anything so bad,
Mr. parker spoke too mildly of her. His judgement is evidently
not to be trusted. His own good nature misleads him. He is too
kind-hearted to see clearly. I must judge for myself. And their
very <1connection>1 prejudices him. He has persuaded her to engage
in the same speculation, and because their object in that line is the
same, he fancies she feels like him in others. But she is very, very
mean. l can see no good in her. Poor Miss Brereton] And
she makes everybody mean about her. This poor Sir Edward and
his sister -- how far nature meant them to be respectable I cannot
tell-- but they are <1obliged>1 to be mean in their servility to her.
And I am mean, too, in giving her my attention with the appearance
of coinciding with her. Thus it is, when rich people are sordid."
The two ladies continued walking together till rejoined by the
others, who, as they issued from the library, were followed by a
young Whitby running off with five volumes under his arm to Sir
Edward's gig; and Sir Edward, approaching Charlotte, said,
"You may perceive what has been our occupation. My sister
wanted my counsel in the selection of some books. We have many
leisure hours and read a great deal. I am no indiscriminate novel
reader. The mere trash of the common circulating library l hold
in the highest contempt. You will never hear me advocating those
puerile emanations which detail nothing but discordant principles
incapable of amalgamation, or those vapid tissues of ordinary
occurrences from which no useful deductions can be drawn. In
vain may we put them into a literary alembic; we distil nothing
which can add to science. You understand me, I am sure?"
"I am not quite certain that I do. But if you will describe the
sort of novels which you <1do>1 approve, l dare say it will give me a
clearer idea."
Most willingly, fair questioner. The novels which I approve
are such as display human nature with grandeur; such as show her
in the sublimities of intense feeling; such as exhibit the progress of
strong passion from the first germ of incipient susceptibility to the
utmost energies t?f reason half-dethroned; where we see the strong
spark of woman's captivations elicit such fire in the soul of man
as leads him -- though at the risk of some aberration from the
strict line of primitive obligations -- to hazard all, dare all, achieve
all ttj obtain her. Such are the works which I peruse with delight
and, I hope I may say, with amelioration. They hold forth the
most splendid portraitures of high conceptions, unbounded views,
illimitable ardour, indomitable decision. And even when the event
is mainly anti-prosperous to the high-toned machinations of the
prime character -- the potent, pervading hero of the story -- it
leaves us full of generous emotions for him; our hearts are para-
lysed. It would be pseudo-philosophy to assert that we do not feel
more enwrapped by the brilliancy of his career than by the
tranquil and morbid virtues of any opposing character. Our
approbation of the latter is but eleemosynary. These are the novels
which enlarge the primitive capabilities t?f the heart; and it cannot
impugn the sense or be any dereliction of the character of the most
anti-puerile man, to be conversant with them.
"If I understand you aright," said Charlotte, "our taste in novels
is not at all the same."
And here they were obliged to part, Miss Denham being much
too tired of them all to stay any longer.
The truth was that Sir Edward, whom circumstances had con-
fined very much to one spot, had read more sentimental novels
than agreed with him. His fancy had been early caught by all
the impassioned and most exceptionable parts of Richardson's.
And such authors as had since appeared to tread in Richardson's
steps (so far as man's determined pursuit of woman in defiance t?f
every opposition of feeling and convenience was concerned) had
since occupied the greater part of his literary hours, and formed
his character.
With a perversity of judgement which must be attributed to his
not having by nature a very strong head, the graces, the spirit, the
sagacity and the perserverance of the villain of the story out-
weighed all his absurdities and all his atrocities with Sir Edward.
With him such conduct was genius, fire and feeling. It interested
and inflamed him. And he was always more anxious for its
success, and mourned over its discomfitures with more tenderness,
than could ever have been contemplated by the authors. Though
he owed many of his ideas to this sort of reading, it would be
unjust to say that he read nothing else or that his language was
not formed on a more general knowledge of modern literature.
He read all the essays, letters, tours and criticisms of the day; and
with the same ill-luck which made him derive only false principles
from lessons of morality, and incentives to vice from the history
of its overthrow, he gathered only hard words and involved
st'ntences from the style of our most approved writers.
Sir Edward's great object in life was to be seductive. With
such personal advantages as he knew himself tt? possess, and such
talents as he did also give himself credit for, he regarded it as his
duty. He felt that he was ft?rmed to be a dangerous man, quite
in the line of the Lovelaces. The very name of Sir Edward, he
thought, carried st?me degree of fascination with it.
To be generally gallant and assiduous about the fair, to make
fine speeches to every pretty girl, was but the inferior part of the
character he had to play. Miss Heywood, or any other young
woman with any pretensions to beauty, he was entitled (according
to his own views of society) to approach with high compliment and
rhapsody on the slightest acquaintance.
But it was Clara alone on whom he had serious designs; it was
Clara whom he meant to seduce -- her seduction was quite
determined on. Her situation in every way called for it. She was
his rival in Lady Denham's favour; she was young, lovely and
dependent. He had very early seen the necessity of the case, and
had now been long trying with cautious assiduity to make an
impression on her heart and to undermine her principles. Clara
saw through him and had not the least intention of being seduced;
but she bore with him patiently enough to confirm the sort of
attachment which her personal charms had raised. A greater
degree of discouragement indeed would not have affected Sir
Edward. He was armed against the highest pitch of disdain or
aversion. If she could not be won by affection, he must carry her
off. He knew his business.
Already had he had many musings on the subject. If he <1were>1
constrained so to act, he must naturally wish to strike out some-
thing new, to exceed those who had gone before him; and he felt
a strong curiosity to ascertain whether the neighbourhood of
Timbuctu might not afford some solitary house adapted for
Clara's reception.
But the expense, alas] of measures in that masterly style was
ill-suited to his purse; and prudence obliged him to prefer the
quietest sort of ruin and disgrace for the object of his affections to
the more renowned.
CHAPTER 8
ONE DAY, soon after Charlotte's arrival at Sanditon she had
the pleasure of seeing, just as she ascended from the sands to the
Terrace, a gentleman's carriage with post horses standing at the
door of the hotel, as very lately arrived and by the quantity of
luggage being taken off bringing, it might be hoped, some respect-
able family determined on a long residence.
Delighted to have such good news for Mr. and Mrs. parker,
who had both gone home some time before, she proceeded to
Trafalgar House with as much alacrity as could remain after having
contended for the last two hours with a very fine wind blowing
directly on shore. But she had not reached the little lawn when
she saw a lady walking nimbly behind her at no great distance;
and convinced that it could be no acquaintance of her own, she
resolved to hurry on and get into the house if possible before her.
But the stranger's pace did not allow this to be accomplished.
Charlotte was on the steps and had rung but the door was not
open when the other crossed the lawn; and when the servant
appeared, they were just equally ready for entering the house.
The ease of the lady, her "How do you do, Morgan?" and
Morgan's looks on seeing her were a moment's astonishment; but
another moment brought Mr. parker into the hall to welcome
the sister he had seen from the drawing room; and Charlotte
was soon introduced to Miss Diana parker.
There was a great deal of surprise but still more pleasure in
seeing her. Nothing could be kinder than her reception from














































both husband and wife. How did she come? And with whom?
And they were so glad to find her equal to the journey] And
that she was to belong to <1them>1 was taken as a matter of course.
Miss Diana parker was about four and thirty, of middling
height and slender; delicate looking rather than sickly; with an
agreeable face and a very animated eye; her manners resembling
her brother's in their ease and frankness, though with more
decision and less mildness in her tone.
She began an account of herself without delay. Thanking them
for their invitation but <1"that>1 was quite out of the question for they
were all three come and meant to get into lodgings and make some
stay."
"All three come] What] Susan and Arthur] Susan able to
come too] This is better and better."
"Yes, we are actually all come. Cite unavoidable. Nothing
else to be done. You shall hear all about it. But my dear Mary,
send for the children -- I long to see them."
"And how has Susan borne the journey? And how is Arthur?
And why do we not see him here with you?"
"Susan has borne it wonderfully. She had not a wink of sleep
either the night before we set out or last night at Chichester, and
as this is not so common with her as with <1me, I>1 have had a
thousand fears for her. But she has kept up wonderfully -- no
hysterics of consequence till we came within sight of poor old
Sanditon -- and the attack was not very violent -- nearly over by
the time we reached your hotel-- so that we got her out of the
carriage extremely well with only Mr. Woodcock's assistance.
And when I left her she was directing the disposal of the luggage
and helping old Sam uncord the trunks. She desired her best love
with a thousand regrets at being so poor a creature that she could
not come with me. And as for poor Arthur, he would not have
been unwilling himself, but there is so much wind that I did not
think he could safely venture for I am <1sure>1 there is lumbago
hanging about him; and so I helped him on with his great coat and
sent him off to the Terrace to take us lodgings. Miss Heywood
must have seen our carriage standing at the hotel. I knew Miss
Heywood the moment I saw her before me on the down. My dear
Tom, I am so glad to see you walk so well. Let me feel your
ankle. That's right; all right and clean. The play of your sinews
a <1very>1 little affected, barely perceptible. Well, now for the
explanation of my being here. I told you in my letter of the two
considerable families I was hoping to secure for you, the West
Indians and the seminary."
Here Mr. parker drew his chair still nearer to his sister and took
her hand again most affectionately as he answered,
"Yes, yes, how active and how kind you have been]"
"The West Indians," she continued, "whom I look upon as the
<1most>1 desirable of the two, as the best of the good, prove to be a
Mrs. Griffiths and her family. I know them only through others.
You must have heard me mention Miss Capper, the particular
friend of <1my>1 very particular friend Fanny Noyce. Now, Miss
Capper is extremely intimate with a Mrs. Darling, who is on terms
of constant correspondence with Mrs. Griffiths herself. Only a
<1short>1 chain, you see, between us, and not a link wanting. Mrs.
Griffiths meant to go to the sea for her young people s benefit, had
fixed on the coast of Sussex but was undecided as to the where,
wanted something private, and wrote to ask the opinion of her
friend Mrs. Darling. Miss Capper happened to be staying with
Mrs. Darling when Mrs. Griffiths' letter arrived and was con-
sulted on the question. <1She>1 wrote the same day to Fanny Noyce
and mentioned it to her; and Fanny, all alive for <1us,>1 instantly
took up her pen and forwarded the circumstance to me -- except
as to <1names,>1 which have but lately transpired. There was but
<1one>1 thing for <1me>1 to do. I answered Fanny's letter by the same
post and pressed for the recommendation of Sanditon. Fanny
had feared your having no house large enough to receive such a
family. But I seem to be spinning out my story to an endless
length. You see how it was all managed. I had the pleasure of
hearing soon afterwards by the same simple link of connection
that Sanditon <1had been>1 recommended by Mrs. Darling, and that
the West lndians were very much disposed to go thither. This was
the state of the case when I wrote to you. But two days ago --
yes, the day before yesterday -- I heard again from Fanny
Noyce, saying that <1she>1 had heard from Miss Capper, who by a
letter from Mrs. Darling understood that Mrs. Griffiths had
expressed herself in a letter to Mrs. Darling more doubtingly on
the subject of Sanditon. Am I clear? I would be anything
rather than not clear."
"Oh, perfectly, perfectly. Well? "
"The reason of this hesitation was her having no connections
in the place, and no means of ascertaining that she should have
good accommodations on arriving there; and she was particularly
careful and scrupulous on all those matters more on account of a
certain Miss Lambe, a young lady -- probably a niece -- under
her care than on her own account or her daughters'. Miss Lambe
has an immense fortune -- richer than all the rest -- and very
delicate health. One sees clearly enough by all this the <1sort>1 of
woman Mrs. Griffiths must be: as helpless and indolent as wealth
and a hot climate are apt to make us. But we are not born to
equal energy. What was to be done? I had a few moments'
indecision, whether to offer to write to you or to Mrs. Whitby to
secure them a house; but neither pleased me. I hate to employ
others when I am equal to act myself; and my conscience told
me that this was an occasion which called for me. Here was a
family of helpless invalids whom I might essentially serve. I
sounded Susan. The same thought had occurred to her. Arthur
made no difficulties. Our plan was arranged immediately, we
were off yesterday morning at six, left Chichester at the same
hour today -- and here we are."
"Excellent] Excellent]" cried Mr. parker. "Diana, you are
unequalled in serving your friends and doing good to all the
world. l know nobody like you. Mary, my love, is not she a
wonderful creature? Well, and now, what house do you design
to engage for them? What is the size of their family?"
"I do not at all know," replied his sister, "have not the least idea,
never heard any particulars; but I am very sure that the largest
house at Sanditon cannot be <1too>1 large. They are more likely to
want a second. I shall take only one, however, and that but for
a week certain. Miss Heywood, I astonish you. You hardly know
what to make of me. I see by your looks that you are not used
to such quick measures."
The words "unaccountable officiousness]" "activity run mad]"
had just passed through Charlotte's mind, but a civil answer was
easy.
"I dare say I do look surprised," said she, "because these are
very great exertions, and I know what invalids both you and your
sister are.
"Invalids indeed. I trust there are not three people in England
who have so sad a right to that appellation] But my dear Miss
Heywood, we are sent into this world to be as extensively useful
as possible, and where some degree of strength of mind is given,
it is not a feeble body which will excuse us -- or incline us to
excuse ourselves. The world is pretty much divided between the
weak of mind and the strong; between those who can act and those
who cannot; and it is the bounden duty of the capable to let no
opportunity of being useful escape them. My sister's complaints
and mine are happily not often of a nature to threaten existence
<1immediately.>1 And as long as we <1can>1 exert ourselves to be of use
to others, I am convinced that the body is the better for the refresh-
ment the mind receives in doing its duty. While I have been
travelling with this object in view, I have been perfectly well."
The entrance of the children ended this little panegyric on her
own disposition; and after having noticed and caressed them all,
she prepared to go.
"Cannot you dine with us? Is not it possible to prevail on you
to dine with us?" was then the cry. And that being absolutely
negatived, it was,
"And when shall we see you again? And how can we be of use
to you?" And Mr. Parker warmly offered his assistance in taking
the house for Mrs. Griffiths.
"I will come to you the moment I have dined," said he, "and we
will go about together."
But this was immediately declined.
"No, my dear Tom, upon no account in the world shall you stir
a step on any business of mine. Your ankle wants rest. I see by
the position of your foot that you have used it too much already.
No, I shall go about my house-taking directly. Our dinner is not
ordered till six; and by that time I hope to have completed it. It
is now only half past four. As to seeing <1me>1 again today, I cannot
answer for it. The others will be at the hotel all the evening and
delighted to see you at any time; but as soon as I get back I shall
hear what Arthur has done about our own lodgings, and probably
the moment dinner is over shall be out again on business relative
to them, for we hope to get into some lodgings or other and be
settled after breakfast tomorrow. I have not much confidence in
poor Arthur's skill for lodging-taking, but he seemed to like the
commission."
"I think you are doing too much," said Mr. Parker. "You will
knock yourself up. You should not move again after dinner."
"No, indeed you should not, cried his wife, "for dinner is such
a mere <1name>1 with you all that it can do you no good. I know what
your appetites are."
"My appetite is very much mended, I assure you, lately. I
have been taking some bitters of my own decocting, which have
done wonders. Susan never eats, I grant you; and just at present
I shall want nothing. I never eat for about a week after a journey.
But as for Arthur, he is only too much disposed for food. We
are often obliged to check him."
"But you have not told me anything of the <1other>1 family coming
to Sanditon," said Mr. Parker as he walked with her to the door
of the house. "The Camberwell Seminary. Have we a good
chance of <1them?">1
"Oh, certain. Quite certain. I had forgotten them for the
moment. But I had a letter three days ago from my friend Mrs.
Charles Dupuis which assured me of Camberwell. Camberwell
will be here to a certainty, and very soon. <1That>1 good woman --
I do not know her name -- not being so wealthy and independent
as Mrs. Griffiths, can travel and choose for herself. I will tell
you how I got at <1her.>1 Mrs. Charles Dupuis lives almost next
door to a lady, who has a relation lately settled at Clapham, who
actually attends the seminary and gives lessons on eloquence and
belles lettres to some of the girls. I got this man a hare from one of
Sidney's friends; and he recommended Sanditon. Without my
appearing however-- Mrs. Charles Dupuis managed it all."
CHAPTER9
IT WAS NOT A WEEK since Miss Diana parker had been told by
her feelings that the sea air would probably, in her present state,
be the death of her; and now she was at Sanditon, intending to
make some stay and without appearing to have the slightest re-
collection of having written or felt any such thing.
It was impossible for Charlotte not to suspect a good deal of
fancy in such an extraordinary state of health. Disorders and
recoveries so very much out of the common way seemed more
like the amusement of eager minds in want of employment than of
actual afflictions and relief. The parkers were no doubt a family
of imagination and quick feelings, and while the eldest brother
found vent for his superfluity of sensation as a projector, the
sisters were perhaps driven to dissipate theirs in the invention of
odd complaints. The <1whole>1 of their mental vivacity was evidently
not so employed; part was laid out in a zeal for being useful. It
would seem that they must either be very busy for the good of
others or else extremely ill themselves.
Some natural delicacy of constitution, in fact, with an unfor-
tunate turn for medicine, especially quack medicine, had given
them an early tendency at various times to various disorders;
the rest of their sufferings was from fancy, the love of distinction
and the love of the wonderful. They had charitable hearts and
many amiable feelings; but a spirit of restless activity and the
glory of doing more than anybody else had their share in every
exertion of benevolence; and there was vanity in all they did, as
well as in all they endured.
Mr. and Mrs. Parker spent a great part of the evening at the
hotel; but Charlotte had only two or three views of Miss Diana
posting over the down after a house for this lady whom she had
never seen and who had never employed her. She was not made
acquainted with the others till the following day when, being
removed into lodgings and all the party continuing quite well,
their brother and sister and herself were entreated to drink tea with
them.
They were in one of the Terrace houses; and she found them
arranged for the evening in a small neat drawing room with a
beautiful view of the sea if they had chosen it; but though it had
been a very fair English summer day, not only was there no open
window, but the sofa and the table and the establishment in
general was all at the other end of the room by a brisk fire.
Miss Parker, whom, remembering the three teeth drawn in one
day, Charlotte approached with a peculiar degree of respectful
compassion, was not very unlike her sister in person or manner,
though more thin and worn by illness and medicine, more relaxed
in air and more subdued in voice. She talked, however, the whole
evening as incessantly as Diana; and excepting that she sat with
salts in her hand, took drops two or three times from one out of
several phials already at home on the mantelpiece and made a great
many odd faces and contortions, Charlotte could perceive no
symptoms of illness which she, in the boldness of her own good
health, would not have undertaken to cure by putting out the fire,
opening the window and disposing of the drops and the salts by
means of one or the other.
She had had considerable curiosity to see Mr. Arthur Parker;
and having fancied him a very puny, delicate-looking young man,
materially the smallest of a not very robust family, was astonished
to find him quite as tall as his brother and a great deal stouter,
broad made and lusty, and with no other look of an invalid than
a sodden complexion.
Diana was evidently the chief of the family -- principal mover
and actor. She had been on her feet the whole morning, on Mrs.
Griffiths' business or their own, and was still the most alert of the
three. Susan had only superintended their final removal from the
hotel, bringing two heavy boxes herself, and Arthur had found the
air so cold that he had merely walked from one house to the other
as nimbly as he could, and boasted much of sitting by the fire till
he had cooked up a very good one.
Diana, whose exercise had been too domestic to admit of calcu-
lation but who, by her own account, had not once sat down during
the space of seven hours, confessed herself a little tired. She had
been too successful, however, for much fatigue; for not only had
she -- by walking and talking down a thousand difficulties -- at
last secured a proper house at eight guineas per week for Mrs.
Griffiths; she had also opened so many treaties with cooks,
housemaids, washerwomen and bathing women that Mrs.
Griffiths would have little more to do on her arrival than to wave
her hand and collect them around her for choice. Her concluding
effort in the cause had been a few polite lines of information to
Mrs. Griffiths herself, time not allowing for the circuitous train
of intelligence which had been hitherto kept up; and she was
now regaling in the delight of opening the first trenches of an
acquaintance with such a powerful discharge of unexpected
obligation.
Mr. and Mrs. Parker and Charlotte had seen two post chaises
crossing the down to the hotel as they were setting off, a joyful
sight and full of speculation. The Miss parkers and Arthur had
also seen something; they could distinguish from their window that
there <1was>1 an arrival at the hotel, but not its amount. Their visitors
answered for two hack chaises. Could it be the Camberwell
Seminary? No, no. Had there been a third carriage, perhaps
it might; but it was very generally agreed that two hack chaises
could never contain a seminary. Mr. parker was confident of
another new family.
When they were all finally seated, after some removals to look
at the sea and the hotel, Charlotte's place was by Arthur, who was
sitting next to the fire with a degree of enjoyment which gave a
good deal of merit to his civility in wishing her to take his chair.
There was nothing dubious in her manner of declining it and he
sat down again with much satisfaction. She drew back her chair
to have all the advantage of his person as a screen and was very
thankful for every inch of back and shoulders beyond her pre-
conceived idea.
Arthur was heavy in eye as well as figure but by no means
indisposed to talk; and while the other four were chiefly engaged
together, he evidently felt it no penance to have a fine young
woman next to him, requiring in common politeness some
attention; as his brother, who felt the decided want of some motive
for action, some powerful object of animation for him, observed
with considerable pleasure. Such was the influence of youth and
bloom that he began even to make a sort of apology for having a
fire.
"We should not have had one at home," said he, "but the sea air
is always damp. I am not afraid of anything so much as damp."
"I am so fortunate," said Charlotte, "as never to know whether
the air is damp or dry. It has always some property that is
wholesome and invigorating to me."
"I like the air too, as well as anybody can," replied Arthur. "I
am very fond of standing at an open window when there is no
wind. But, unluckily, a damp air does not like <1me.>1 It gives me
the rheumatism. You are not rheumatic, I suppose?"
"Not at all."
"That's a great blessing. But perhaps you are nervous?"
"No, I believe not. I have no idea that I am.'
"I am very nervous. To say the truth, nerves are the worst
part of my complaints in <1my>1 opinion. My sisters think me bilious,
but I doubt it."
"You are quite in the right to doubt it as long as you possibly
can, I am sure."
"If I were bilious," he continued, "you know, wine would
disagree with me, but it always does me good. The more wine
I drink -- in moderation -- the better I am. I am always best
of an evening. If you had seen me today before dinner, you
would have thought me a very poor creature.
Charlotte could believe it. She kept her countenance, how-
ever, and said,
"As far as l can understand what nervous complaints are, I
have a great idea of the efficacy of air and exercise for them --
daily, regular exercise -- and I should recommend rather more
of it to <1you>1 than I suspect you are in the habit of taking."
"Oh, I am very fond of exercise myself," he replied, "and I mean
to walk a great deal while I am here, if the weather is temperate.
I shall be out every morning before breakfast and take several
turns upon the Terrace, and you will often see me at Trafalgar
House."
"But you do not call a walk to Trafalgar House much exercise?"
Not as to mere distance, but the hill is so steep] Walking up
that hill, in the middle of the day, would throw me into such a
perspiration] You would see me all in a bath by the time I got
there] l am very subject to perspiration, and there cannot be a
surer sign of nervousness."
They were now advancing so deep in physics that Charlotte
viewed the entrance of the servant with the tea things as a very
fortunate interruption. It produced a great and immediate
change. The young man's attentions were instantly lost. He
took his own cocoa from the tray, which seemed provided with
almost as many teapots as there were persons in company --
Miss parker drinking one sort of herb tea and Miss Diana another
-- and turning completely to the fire, sat coddling and cooking
it to his own satisfaction and toasting some slices of bread,
brought up ready-prepared in the toast rack; and till it was all
done, she heard nothing of his voice but the murmuring of a few
broken sentences of self-approbation and success. When his toils
were over, however, he moved back his chair into as gallant a line
as ever, and proved that he had not been working only for himself
by his earnest invitation to her to take both cocoa and toast.
She was already helped to tea -- which surprised him, so totally
self-engrossed had he been.
"l thought I should have been in time," said he, "but cocoa
rakes a great deal of boiling."
"l am much obliged to you," replied Charlotte. "But I <1prefer>1
tea."
"Then l will help myself," said he. "A large dish of rather
weak cocoa every evening agrees with me better than anything."
lt struck her, however, as he poured out this rather weak cocoa,
that it came forth in a very fine, dark-coloured stream; and at the
same moment, his sisters both crying out, "Oh, Arthur, you get
your cocoa stronger and stronger every evening," with Arthur's
somewhat conscious reply of <1"Tis>1 rather stronger than it should
be tonight," convinced her that Arthur was by no means so
fond of being starved as they could desire or as he felt proper
himself.
He was certainly very happy to turn the conversation on dry
toast and hear no more of his sisters.
"l hope you will eat some of this toast," said he. "I reckon
myself a very good toaster. I never burn my toasts, I never
put them too near the fire at first. And yet, you see, there is not
a corner but what is well browned. l hope you like dry toast.
"With a reasonable quantity of butter spread over it, very
much," said Charlotte, "but not otherwise.
"No more do I," said he, exceedingly pleased. "We think quite
alike there. So far from dry toast being wholesome, l think it a
very bad thing for the stomach. Without a little butter to soften
it, it hurts the coats of the stomach. I am sure it does. I will
have the pleasure of spreading some for you directly, and after-
wards I will spread some for myself. Very bad indeed for the
coats of the stomach -- but there is no convincing <1some>1 people.
It irritates and acts like a nutmeg grater."
He could not get command of the butter, however, without a
struggle; his sisters accusing him of eating a great deal too much
and declaring he was not to be trusted, and he maintaining that
he only ate enough to secure the coats of his stomach, and besides,
he only wanted it now for Miss Heywood. Such a plea must
prevail. He got the butter and spread away for her with an
accuracy of judgement which at least delighted himself. But when
her toast was done and he took his own in hand, Charlotte could
hardly contain herself as she saw him watching his sisters while
he scrupulously scraped off almost as much butter as he put on,
and then seizing an odd moment for adding a great dab just
before it went into his mouth.
Certainly, Mr. Arthur Parker's enjoyments in invalidism were
very different from his sisters' -- by no means so spiritualised.
A good deal of earthy dross hung about him. Charlotte could
not but suspect him of adopting that line of life principally for
the indulgence of an indolent temper, and to be determined on
having no disorders but such as called for warm rooms and good
nourishment. ln one particular, however, she soon found that he
had caught something from <1them.>1
"What]" said he. "Do you venture upon two dishes of strong
green tea in one evening? What nerves you must have] How
I envy you. Now, if I were to swallow only one such dish, what
do you think its effect would be upon me?"
"Keep you awake perhaps all night," replied Charlotte, mean-
ing to overthrow his attempts at surprise by the grandeur of her
own conceptions.
"Oh, if that were all]" he exclaimed. "No. It acts on me like
poison and would entirely take away the use of my right side
before I had swallowed it five minutes. It sounds almost
incredible, but it has happened to me so often that I cannot
doubt it. The use of my right side is entirely taken away for
several hours ] "
"It sounds rather odd to be sure," answered Charlotte coolly,
"but l dare say it would be proved to be the simplest thing in the
world by those who have studied right sides and green tea
scientifically and thoroughly understand all the possibilities of
their action on each other."
Soon after tea, a letter was brought to Miss Diana Parker
from the hotel.
"From Mrs. Charles Dupuis," said she, "some private hand,"
and having read a few lines, exclaimed aloud, "Well, this is very
extraordinary] Very extraordinary indeed] That both should
have the same name. Two Mrs. Griffiths] This is a letter of
recommendation and introduction to me of the lady from Camber-
well-- and <1her>1 name happens to be Griffiths too."
A few more lines, however, and the colour rushed into her
cheeks and with much perturbation, she added,
"The oddest thing that ever was] A Miss Lambe too] A
young West Indian of large fortune. But it <1cannot>1 be the same.
Impossible that it should be the same."
She read the letter aloud for comfort. It was merely to intro-
duce the bearer, Mrs. Griffiths from Camberwell, and the three
young ladies under her care to Miss Diana Parker's notice. Mrs.
Griffiths, being a stranger at Sanditon, was anxious for a respect-
able introduction; and Mrs. Charles Dupuis, therefore, at the
instance of the intermediate friend, provided her with this letter,
knowing that she could not do her dear Diana a greater kindness
than by giving her the means of being useful. "Mrs. Griffiths'
chief solicitude would be for the accommodation and comfort
of one of the young ladies under her care, a Miss Lambe, a young
West lndian of large fortune in delicate health."
It was very strange] Very remarkable] Very extraordinary]
But they were all agreed in determining it to be <1impossible>1 that
there should not be two families; such a totally distinct set of
people as were concerned in the reports of each made that matter
quite certain. There <1must>1 be two families. Impossible to be
otherwise.
"Impossible" and "Impossible" were repeated over and over again
with great fervour. An accidental resemblance of names and
circumstances, however striking at first, involved nothing really
incredible; and so it was settled.
Miss Diana herself derived an immediate advantage to counter
balance her perplexity. She must put her shawl over her
shoulders and be running about again. Tired as she was, she
must instantly repair to the hotel to investigate the truth and offer
her services.
CHAPTERl0
IT WOULD NOT DO. Not all that the whole Parker race could
say among themselves could produce a happier catastrophe than
that the family from Surrey and the family from Camberwell were
one and the same. The rich West lndians and the young ladies'
seminary had all entered Sanditon in those two hack chaises. The
Mrs. Griffiths who, in her friend Mrs. Darling's hands, had
wavered as to coming and been unequal to the journey, was the
very same Mrs. Griffiths whose plans were at the same period
(under another representation) perfectly decided, and who was
without fears or difficulties.
AIl that had the appearance of incongruity in the reports of
the two might very fairly be placed to the account of the vanity,
the ignorance or the blunders of the many engaged in the cause
by the vigilance and caution of Miss Diana parker. <1Her>1 intimate
friends must be officious like herself; and the subject had supplied
letters and extracts and messages enough to make everything
appear what it was not.
Miss Diana probably felt a little awkward on being first
obliged to admit her mistake. A long journey from Hampshire
taken for nothing, a brother disappointed, an expensive house
on her hands for a week must have been some of her immediate
reflections; and much worse than all the rest must have been the
sensation of being less clear-sighted and infallible than she had
believed herself. No part of it, however, seemed to trouble her
for long. There were so many to share in the shame and the
blame that probably, when she had divided out their proper
portions to Mrs. Darling, Miss Capper, Fanny Noyce, Mrs,
Charles Dupuis and Mrs. Charles Dupuis's neighbour, there
might be a mere trifle of reproach remaining for herself. At any
rate, she was seen all the following morning walking about after
lodgings with Mrs. Griffiths as alert as ever.
Mrs. Griffiths was a very well-behaved, genteel kind of woman,
who supported herself by receiving such great girls and young
ladies as wanted either masters for finishing their education or a
home for beginning their displays. She had several more under
her care than the three who were now come to Sanditon, but the
others all happened to be absent. Of these three, and indeed of
all, Miss Lambe was beyond comparison the most important and
precious, as she paid in proportion to her fortune. She was about
seventeen, half mulatto, chilly and tender, had a maid of her own,
was to have the best room in the lodgings, and was always of the
first consequence in every plan of Mrs. Griffiths.
The other girls, two Miss Beauforts, were just such young
ladies as may be met with in at least one family out of three
throughout the kingdom. They had tolerable complejtions,
showy figures, an upright decided carriage and an assured look;
they were very accomplished and very ignorant, their time being
divided between such pursuits as might attract admiration, and
those labours and expedients of dexterous ingenuity by which they
could dress in a style much beyond what they ought to have afford-
ed; they were some of the first in every change of fashion. And
the object of all was to captivate some man of much better fortune
than their own.
Mrs. Griffiths had preferred a small, retired place like Sanditon
on Miss Lambe's account; and the Miss Beauforts, though
naturally preferring anything to smallness and retirement, having
in the course of the spring been involved in the inevitable expense
of six new dresses each for a three-days visit, were constrained to
be satisfied with Sanditon also till their circumstances were
retrieved.
There, with the hire of a harp for one and the purchase of
some drawing paper for the other and all the finery they could
already command, they meant to be very economical, very
elegant and very secluded; with the hope, on Miss Beaufort's
side, of praise and celebrity from all who walked within the
sound of her instrument, and on Miss Letitia's, of curiosity and
rapture in all who came near her while she sketched; and to both,
the consolation of meaning to be the most stylish girls in the
place.
The particular introduction of Mrs. Griffiths to Miss Diana
Parker secured them immediately an acquaintance with the
Trafalgar House family and with the Denhams; and the Miss
Beauforts were soon satisfied with "the circle in which they
moved in Sanditon," to use a proper phrase, for everybody must
now "move in a circle" -- to the prevalence of which rotatory
motion is perhaps to be attributed the giddiness and false steps of
many.
Lady Denham had other motives for calling on Mrs. Griffiths
besides attention to the Parkers. In Miss Lambe, here was the
very young lady, sickly and rich, whom she had been asking for;
and she made the acquaintance for Sir Edward's sake and the
sake of her milch asses.
How it might answer with regard to the baronet remained to be
proved but, as to the animals, she soon found that all her calcula-
tions of profit would be vain. Mrs. Griffiths would not allow
Miss Lambe to have the smallest sympton of a decline or any
complaint which asses' milk could possibly relieve. Miss
Lambe was "under the constant care of an experienced physician,"
and his prescriptions must be their rule. And except in favour of
some tonic pills, which a cousin of her own had a property in,
Mrs. Griffiths never deviated from the strict medicinal page.
The corner house of the Terrace was the one in which Miss
Diana parker had the pleasure of settling her new friends; and
considering that it commanded in front the favourite lounge of
all the visitors at Sanditon, and on one side whatever might be
going on at the hotel, there could not have been a more
favourable spot for the seclusion of the Miss Beauforts. And
accordingly, long before they had suited themselves with an
instrument or with drawing paper, they had, by the frequenC
of their appearance at the low windows upstairs in order to close
the blinds, or open the blinds, to arrange a flower pot on the
balcony, or look at nothing through a telescope, attracted many
an eye upwards and made many a gazer gaze again.
A little novelty has a great effect in so small a place. The Miss
Beauforts, who would have been nothing at Brighton, could not
move here without notice. And even Mr. Arthur Parker, though
little disposed for supernumerary exertion, always quitted the
Terrace in his way to his brother's by this corner house for the sake
of a glimpse of the Miss Beauforts -- though it was half a quarter
of a mile round about and added two steps to the ascent of the
hill.
CHAPTER11
CHARLOTTE had been ten days at Sanditon without seeing Sand-
iton House, every attempt at calling on Lady Denham having
been defeated by meeting with her beforehand. But now it was
to be more resolutely undertaken, at a more early hour, that
nothing might be neglected of attention to Lady Denham or
amusement to Charlotte.
"And if you should find a favourable opening, my love," said
Mr. Parker, who did not mean to go with them, "I think you had
better mention the poor Mullins's situation and sound her Lady-
ship as to a subscription for them. I am not fond of charitable
subscriptions in a place of this kind -- it is a sort of tax upon all
that come. Yet as their distress is very great and I almost
promised the poor woman yesterday to get something done for
her, I believe we must set a subscription on foot, and, therefore,
the sooner the better; and Lady Denham's name at the head of the
list will be a very necessary beginning. You will not dislike
speaking to her about it, Mary?"
'-I will do whatever you wish me," replied his wife, "but you
would do it so much better yourself. I shall not know what to
say."
"My dear Mary," he cried. "It is impossible you can be really
at a loss. Nothing can be more simple. You have only to state
the present afflicted situation of the family, their earnest applica-
tion to me, and my being willing to promote a little subscription
for their relief, provided it meet with her approbation."
'-The easiest thing in the world," cried Miss Diana Parker, who
happened to be calling on them at the moment. All said and
done in less time than you have been talking of it now. And
while you are on the subject of subscriptions, Mary, I will thank
you to mention a very melancholy case to Lady Denham which
has been represented to me in the most affecting terms. There is
a poor woman in Worcestershire, whom some friends of mine are
exceedingly interested about, and I have undertaken to collect
whatever I can for her. If you would mention the circumstance
to Lady Denham] Lady Denham <1can>1 give, if she is properly
attacked. And I look upon her to be the sort of person who,
when once she is prevailed on to undraw her purse, would as
readily give ten guineas as five. And therefore, if you find her
in a giving mood, you might as well speak in favour of another
charity which I and a few more have very much at heart -- the
establishment of a Charitable Repository at Burton on Trent.
And then there is the family of the poor man who was hung last
assizes at York, though we really <1have>1 raised the sum we wanted
for putting them all out, yet if you <1can>1 get a guinea from her on
their behalf, it may as well be done."
"My dear Diana]" exclaimed Mrs. parker, "I could no more
mention these things to Lady Denham than I could fly."
"Where's the difficulty? I wish I could go with you myself.
But in five minutes I must be at Mrs. Griffiths to encourage Miss
Lambe in taking her first dip. She is so frightened, poor thing,
that I promised to come and keep up her spirits and go in the
machine with her if she wished it. And as soon as that is over, I
must hurry home, for Susan is to have leeches at one o clock--
which will be a three hours' business. Therefore I really have not
a moment to spare. Besides that, between ourselves, I ought to
be in bed myself at this present time for I am hardly able to stand;
and when the leeches have done, I dare say we shall both go to
our rooms for the rest of the day."
"-I am sorry to hear it, indeed. But if this is the case I hope
Arthur will come to us."
"-If Arthur takes my advice, he will go to bed too, for if he stays
up by himself he will certainly eat and drink more than he ought.
But you see, Mary, how impossible it is for me to go with you to
Lady Denham's."
Upon second thoughts, Mary," said her husband. "I will
not trouble you to speak about the Mullinses. I will take an
opportunity of seeing Lady Denham myself. I know how little it
suits you to be pressing matters upon a mind at all unwilling."
<1His>1 application thus withdrawn, his sister could say no more
in support of hers, which was his object, as he felt all their im-
propriety and all the certainty of their ill effect upon his own
better claim. Mrs. Parker was delighted at this release and set off
very happy with her friend and her little girl on this walk to
Sanditon House.
lt was a close, misty morning and, when they reached the brow
of the hill, they could not for some time make out what sort of
carriage it was which they saw coming up. It appeared at
different moments to be everything from a gig to a phaeton, from
one horse to four; and just as they were concluding in favour of
a tandem, little Mary's young eyes distinguished the coachman
and she eagerly called out, "It is Uncle Sidney, Mama, it is
indeed."
And so it proved. Mr. Sidney parker, driving his servant in a
very neat carriage, was soon opposite to them, and they all
sropped for a few minutes. The manners of the Parkers were
always pleasant among themselves; and it was a very friendly
meeting between Sidney and his sister-in-law, who was most
kindly taking it for granted that he was on his way to Trafalgar
House.
This he declined, however. He was "just come from East-
bourne proposing to spend two or three days, as it might happen,
at Sanditon"; but the hotel must be his quarters. He was
expecting to be joined there by a friend or two.
The rest was common enquiries and remarks, with kind notice
of little Mary, and a very well-bred bow and proper address to
Miss Heywood on her being named to him. And they parted
to meet again within a few hours. Sidney parker was about
seven or eight and twenty, very good-looking, with a decided air
of ease and fashion and a lively countenance.
This adventure afforded agreeable discussion for some time.
Mrs. Parker entered into all her husband's joy on the occasion
and exulted in the credit which Sidney's arrival would give to the
place.
The road to Sanditon House was a broad, handsome, planted
approach between fields, leading at the end of a quarter of a mile
through second gates into grounds which, though not extensive,
had all the beauty and respectability which an abundance of very
fine timber could give. These entrance gates were so much in a
corner of the grounds or paddock, so near to one of its boundaries,
that an outside fence was at first almost pressing on the road, till
an angle <1here>1 and a curve <1there>1 threw them to a better distance.
The fence was a proper park paling in excellent condition, with
clusters of fine elms or rows of old thorns following its line almost
everywhere. <1Almost>1 must be stipulated, for there were vacant
spaces, and through one of these, Charlotte, as soon as they
entered the enclosure, caught a glimpse over the pales of some-
thing white and womanish in the field on the other side. It was
something which immediately brought Miss Brereton into her head;
and stepping to the pales, she saw indeed--and very decidedly, in
spite of the mist -- Miss Brereton seated not far before her at the
foot of the bank which sloped down from the outside of the
paling and which a narrow path seemed to skirt along -- Miss
Brereton seated, apparently very composedly, and Sir Edward
Denham by her side.
They were sitting so near each other and appeared so closely
engaged in gentle conversation that Charlotte instantly felt she had
nothing to do but to step back again and say not a word. privacy
was certainly their object. lt could not but strike her rather
unfavourably with regard to Clara; but hers was a situation
which must not be judged with severity. She was glad to perceive
that nothing had been discerned by Mrs. parker. If Charlotte had
not been considerably the taller of the two, Miss Brereton's white
ribbons might not have fallen within the ken of <1her>1 more ob-
servant eyes.
Among other points of moralising reflection which the sight of
this tete-a-tete produced, Charlotte could not but think of the
extreme difficulty which secret lovers must have in finding a
proper spot for their stolen interviews. Here perhaps they
had thought themselves so perfectly secure from observation
-- the whole field open before them; a steep bank and pales
never crossed by the foot of man at their back, and a great
thickness of air to aid them as well] Yet here she had seen
them. They were really ill-used.
The house was large and handsome. Two servants appeared
to admit them and everything had a suitable air of property and
order, Lady Denham valued herself upon her liberal establish-
ment and had great enjoyment in the order and importance of her
style of living. They were shown into the usual sitting room, well
proportioned and well furnished, though it was furniture rather
originally good and extremely well kept than new or showy. And
as Lady Denham was not there, Charlotte had leisure to look
about her and to be told by Mrs. Parker that the whole-length
portrait of a stately gentleman which, placed over the mantel-
piece, caught the eye immediately, was the picture of Sir Henry
Denham; and that one among many miniatures in another part of
the room, little conspicuous, represented Mr. Hollis. poor
Mr. Hollis] lt was impossible not to feel him hardly used: to be
obliged to stand back in his own house and see the best place by
the fire constantly occupied by Sir Henry Denham.
Lady Denham's brisk style of greeting on entering made it
plain that, though she regarded their visit as a necessary piece of
civility, she had no intention of exercising equal civility in being
inconvenienced by it herself.
"Very fortunate indeed you find me at home, Mrs. Parker,"
she said in her abrupt way. "I was on the point of setting out
for the library and in a few minutes we may all walk back that
way together. Hodges has it from Mrs. Whitby that Mrs.
Griffiths has actually been enquiring about a chamber-horse.
The wonder of it is she mentioned no such thing when I called
on her the day before yesterday. And if Miss Lambe is not to be
benefited by asses' milk, how am I to guess that daily indoor
exercise on a chamber-horse is exactly what this physician of hers
recommends? I have no patience with invalids who spurn one
aid to health and clutch at another. But no matter -- the ill
wind is still blowing in my direction. Mr. Hollis's chamber-
horse is in excellent condition and we may have it delivered to the
Terrace this very day, as soon as I have gone round and settled the
terms. I am only waiting now for Miss Clara to return from the
Jacksons ; and their cottage is not a quarter of a mile across the
park."
Charlotte, suspecting Lady Denham might have to wait rather
longer than she intended, wondered how a formal call could be
indefinitely prolonged after so unpromising a beginning; the
more especially as their hostess, making no move to sit down
herself and lending only half an ear to Mrs. Parker's polite
remarks, showed no readiness for any conversation which did
not advance her own immediate plans.
But in her quiet, unassuming fashion, Mrs. Parker persevered
steadily on, enquiring after the health of old Mrs. Jackson,
mentioning Mr. Sidney Parker's arrival in Sanditon, and com-
menting on a fine display of irises and roses in one alcove
A pause succeeded for a few moments while Lady Denham
fidgeted impatiently about the room. Neither Charlotte nor Mrs.
Parker had disarranged anything there; but little Mary, having
seated herself first on one chair and then on another, had hollowed
several cushions, slightly rumpled their seat covers, shifted a
footstool and disturbed a small hearthrug. It was apparent that
Lady Denham could not endure waiting till her guests had gone
before restoring each item of furniture to its exact and appointed
place, and Charlotte watched in amazement as the minor modi-
fications Mary had made to the room were fussily adjusted.
"I wonder what can have detained Miss Clara?" Lady Denham
said at last, patting a final cushion back into shape. "It was
only the usual pail of soup we send across whenever cook has it
on hand -- beef soup, you know. But she cannot be wasting the
whole day on such errands -- and <1my>1 day as well, she might
consider. Hiring out the chamber-horse is a great deal more to
the point this morning, and Miss Clara could be supervising
Betsy removing the dust covers up in the garret."
Disconcerted by so self-centred a train of thought being voiced
aloud, Charlotte decided Lady Denham was put out by their call
and trying to discourage them from staying. Beginning to feel
extremely uncomfortable herself, she wished Mrs. Parker would
make some movement to speed their departure. But Mrs. Parker,
who knew their hostess rather better, continued seated and made
several more of her gentle, commonplace observations. Over
a period of years, she had come to understand that this dis-
courtesy towards casual visitors did not arise from any unwilling-
ness to entertain them, any deficiency in the appointment or
arrangement of the household, nor even any real lack of
hospitality. The truth lay more in a failure of mental resilience,
an unfortunate but inevitable result of Lady Denham's declining
years; she preferred everything and everybody about her to
remain comfortably settled in their proper places.
Charlotte could only think her very impolite. But Mrs. Parker,
restraining Mary from further movement, could recognise the
selfishness but still excuse it from the circumstances of Lady
Denham's having had rather tto much her own way all her life,
and being too old to change those ways now.
So she set herself out to be as pleasant as possible; and having
decided in advance how long their call was to last, refused to be
provoked into curtailing it.
CHAPTER12
AFTER CONTINUING in this uneasy manner a quarter of an
hour they heard quick steps across the hall, Miss Brereton
appeared and Charlotte's interest in the visit immediately
revived. She now saw Clara's white ribbons at closer quarters,
was struck once again by so much beauty and elegance, but
found a new spice added to the fascination in trying to decide
whether there was the least appearance of guilt or deceit on
that lovely countenance.
Miss Brereton apologised calmly to the visitors with a brief
explanation for the length of her absence: she would have hurried
back had she known of Mrs. Parker's intention to call, but she
had been all this time sitting with old Mrs. Jackson; and to
Charlotte's observant eye, her cheeks suffered no variation in
colour as she offered this as her sole excuse.
Mrs. parker, already rising, was beginning to suggest they
should now all walk back in the direction of the Terrace, when
Lady Denham suddenly and perversely summoned the servants
to bring refreshment. Charlotte, agreeably surprised by the
variety of hot-house fruit which Sanditon House could produce
at a moment's notice, wondered why this gesture had been
withheld when most needt'd to fill a void, and made when the
importunate guests were on the point of departure; and she
followed Mrs. Parker's lead to the buffet table, her orderly mind
still trying to grapple with the kindly intentions, shrewd
calculations and capricious behaviour which combined to form
the character of their hostess.
Their visit, however, soon afforded further exercise for her
powers in summing up an even more complex situation. The
entrance of Sir Edward Denham was apparently quite unexpected
by everyone except herself -- and presumably Miss Brereton; but
Charlotte, scrutinising him closely throughout his opening
speech, could at least feel some astonishment in the complete
self-possession with which he accounted for his appearance. He
had been speaking with Mrs. Whitby that very morning and,
hearing of Miss Lambe's need for a chamber-horse, had hurried
to pass on the news to Lady Denham -- with earnest assurances
of perpetual regard for her concerns, delivered with all the
flourish of which Sir Edward was capable; he had come to
Sanditon House <1direct>1 from the library, he said.
There was not the slightest embarrassment in his manner as he
told this shameless lie; and Charlotte knew not what to infer. She
moved her eyes to Clara and saw that, with an air of indifference
towards Sir Edward, she was entertaining little Mary and helping
her to a bunch of grapes.
Charlotte had observed this studied lack of interest in Sir
Edward on previous occasions but now it occurred to her that
these had all taken place in Lady Denham's presence. That
Clara encouraged his addresses and listened to Sir Edward
more favourably in private meetings seemed equally obvious.
The connection between them was as ambiguous in some respects
as it was plain in others; and Lady Denham, listening to Sir
Edward very complacently, accepting both his exaggerated
deference and his insistence on calling as her due, was clearly
being deceived quite systematically by them both. For CharIotte
had seen enough in this one instance to convince her that their
secret encounter that morning had been neither by chance nor
the first of its kind. Unless Sir Edward and Miss Brereton were
practised conspirators, she could scarcely believe they would carry
through their duplicity in so normal a fashion.
"Miss Brereton is certainly at fault in concealing her meetings
with Sir Edward from Lady Denham," she decided. 'But she is
in a difficult position, no doubt. If she were more open about
his courtship, who knows how Lady Denham might reaco <1She>1
expects Sir Edward to marry an heiress -- and although <1he>1
might equally expect Miss Brereton to become an heiress in time,
his calculations on this point and Lady Denham's might not
exactly coincide." To be continually at the mercy of such an old
lady's whims struck Charlotte as being particularly hard upon a
young couple. But it did not alter her original judgement in
condemning their deceit and in resolving to be very circumspect
over her own dealings with both of them in the future.
So engrossed was she in these thoughts and the various
interpretations she could suggest for Miss Brereton's conduct, that
she was taken by surprise in finding herself addressed by her
directly. In a most cordial manner, Miss Brereton seemed to be
trying to further their acquaintance. She was asking Charlotte
about sea-bathing. Whether she intended to bathe while at
Sanditon and whether she had ever done so before?
"I should like it very much," replied Charlotte. "And Mrs.
Parker has been kind enough to suggest she will come with me the
first morning we can arrange it."
'Ah, I have been hoping you will accept my company on just
such an expedition. I am sure sea-bathing must be delightful
and have longed to try it; but the weather up till now has not been
much in favour and besides, Lady Denham has not liked me to
venture into a bathing machine on my own."
"Oh pray, let us not be starting again on such nonsense, Miss
Clara," cried Lady Denham. "All this to-do with bathing
machines was not the fashion of <1my>1 youth, let me tell you; and
I now heartily regret allowing Mr. parker to talk me into intro-
ducing them at Sanditon]"
"But my dear ma'am, <1every>1 resort must have its bathing
machines these days," protested Mrs. Parker. "They are a great
attraction. And you must surely agree ours are most con-
veniently placed -- so sheltered a cove for the very purpose just
westward of the main beach."
"Oh aye, spare me all the arguments in favour of them. If I
heard them from Mr. parker once, I heard them a thousand times.
But the only one that came uppermost with me was the lack of
expense. They're among the few of Mr. Parker's improvements
that haven't cost me a penny, I'll say that for them," conceded
Lady Denham. "The applications he had from people wanting to
run them] Everyone in the village seemed to believe their fortunes
could be made by starting up bathing machines. And yet I hear
their terms are moderate. One shilling for each gentleman, Mrs.
Whitby tells me, and one and sixpence for ladies -- with the price
decreasing for regular customers. But some people are great
fools. Why pay even that to ruin their complexions? You
young ladies will only make yours rude and coarse by exposing
them to salt water. But there, I suppose young people must
always be trying out anything new and never mind how the wind
may show their legs when they climb into them."
Here Mrs. parker again interposed, and placidly interpreting
Lady Denham's last grudging sentence as sufficient approval,
advised Charlotte to accept Miss Brereton's invitation. She
herself was happy to concur with any suggestion which offered
some prospect of pleasure for her young friend and she was a
faithful enough accomplice of her husband's to resist any slander
that sea water could ever be harmful.
"As to the complexion, I never heard of such a thing myself.
Wind and sun perhaps have done the damage and salt water has
been given the blame. I really believe that sea bathing in itself
can do nothing but good," said she, "where moderation is shown
and provided certain care is exercised."
"Oh, certainly," agreed Sir Edward, who had been trying to
encourage the bathing party for some time without actively
opposing Lady Denham. "Saline immersion should not be
prolonged if depression and languor are to be avoided. And
then take, for instance, the <1hour>1 of bathing. This must be
selected with particular circumspection. It should be postponed
till past noon if possible or at least some hours after breakfast,
when the digestion of that meal may be supposed to be terminated.
And a degree of exercise should always be taken previous to
entering the water and also on Ieaving it."
He went on at such length, interspersing his lecture with such
minute instructions to the young ladies as to the exact time they
shouId take their bathe, and the distance they should walk before
and after it, that Charlotte began to suspect he was smoothing
the way for his next assignation with Clara -- almost choosing
the time and place -- in Lady Denham's own hearing.
The conjecture took away much of her inclination for the
bathing excursion; but though publicly agreeing to join Miss
Brereton on the following morning, she privately resolved to be
on the lookout for Sir Edward and do whatever she could to
thwart his obvious intention of escorting Clara home.
"No doubt they are both hoping I shall be very useful to them;
and Miss Brereton is trying to become friendly with me so she will
have an excuse to escape more often from Sanditon House. But
I want no part in such deceit and they will find me a very ob-
structive chaperone," were Charlotte's thoughts as the three of
them fell into a natural grouping behind Lady Denham, Mrs.
Parker and Mary in the walk back across the park.
Sir Edward, unaware of such meditated opposition to his plans
and incapable of relegating any personable young woman to the
role of chaperone, treated both Charlotte and Clara to equal
excesses of gallantry as he walked between them. Still extolling
the pleasures of bathing, he sought to entertain them with his
longest syllables and most edifying sentences.
"To plunge into the refreshing wave and be wrapped round with
the liquid element is indeed a most delightful sensation, he
assured them. "But health and pleasure may be equally con-
sulted in these salutary ablutions; and to many a wan countenance
can the blush of the rose be restored by an occasional dip in the
purifying surge of the ocean. Not, he hastened to add, trying
to bow to them both at the same time, "that either of my fair
listeners would need the rose <1restored>1 to their lovely cheeks."
Charlotte could only gaze at him in astonishment; and even
Clara's fair cheek showed so little sign of blushing that Sir Edward,
had he been a reasonabl.e man, might have felt abashed. He
continued, however, much in this vein till their party was obliged
to separate at the entrance drive to Trafalgar House.
Extremely happy to be relieved of his company, Charlotte
watched him take up his new position between Lady Denham and
Clara, deferring so assiduously to the former and treating the
latter in so offhand a manner as her mere companion that the
mystery of the exact relationship between all three of them puzzled
her more than ever. It was so very clearly not what it appeared
on the surface. But what could it all mean?
"It is very difficult for me to understand till I know more of
both the people and the circumstances," said she to herself.
"Lady Denham prides herself on being shrewd, but she is also
very suspicious. And if she is always imagining hidden motives
and anticipating deceit in everyone, perhaps other people should
not be blamed for protecting themselves and not being entirely
open with her."
Charlotte knew her own first impressions were not without their
defects; she had already changed her mind once about both Sir
Edward and Lady Denham, and felt she should reach no more
false conclusions by forming too rapid and definite an opinion of
Clara Brereton.
"But I do not <1think I>1 will change my mind about Sir Edward
again," she decided. "He <1is a>1 very muddled and silly young
man."
Such were her musings as she walked towards the house, listen-
ing only half-heartedly to Mrs. parker, whose sweet-tempered
remarks could usually be ignored or agreed to without serious
damage to any discussion.
And Charlotte had said "Yes, yes" several times, "Oh, I agree,
decidedly handsome, a very fine young man," and "Most elegant
in his address," before she realised they were talking not of Sir
Edward Denham but of Sidney Parker.
CHAPTER13
EVEN SUCH TE MPORARY forgetfulness of the new arrival in Sand-
iton became an impossibility once they had crossed the threshold
of Trafalgar House. Sidney parker had already called there and
his brother could talk of nothing else.
"Only think of it, Mary," he cried. "To have him with us at
last] And two of his friends joining him tomorrow] So exactly
the set of young people we want encouraged among us; they will
lend a proper fashionable air to the place. Even for a few days
it may do a great deal-- but I wonder how long they <1will>1 stay?
They are sure to be most excellent young men if they are friends
of Sidney's."
Charlotte had already noticed that Mr. Parker tended to judge
people by their usefulness to Sanditon, the respectable tone they
lent it or the admiration they expressed for it rather than on their
own merits. She was not at all surprised when he continued his
commendation of Sidney by repeating with strong delight his recent
praise of Sanditon.
"He is all amazement at the improvements and developments
since he was last here -- so many new houses finished, our
plantation growing up so quickly, such activity on the hill and
the Terrace. But still he tends to make a joke of it. He will
joke about everything, you know. He has been making me
laugh most heartily for the past hour and is now gone off to call
on Susan and Diana. He vows he will bring them all to dinner
with us this evening. I hope, my love, that Reynolds will prove
equal to providing a family dinner at short notice if Sidney can
prevail with them? I told him we could always squeeze in
another four without a doubt. <1They>1 eat nothing, we know, but
we must do our best to tempt them."
Mrs. Parker, who always kept a very good table, murmured
something about a saddle-of-mutton which Mr. Parker would be
carving himself, hesitated between adding a couple of birds or
some well-filled corner dishes and ended by doubting whether
the entire parker family could ever be induced to take dinner
with them.
"I am sure Diana will come if she is feeling up to it," she
decided. "But not even Sidney could persuade Arthur or Susan
to venture out in the evening air. They have never done so
before."
"Nor have they," said Mr. Parker, much struck. "It is time
they dined with us."
"Susan has not yet climbed our hill during the daytime."
"Depend upon it my dear, Sidney will persuade them all to
come," Mr. Parker assured her with undiminished cheerfulness.
"He will consider such objections as they make mere nonsense and
will have his own way in the end."
And this optimism was soon justified. Shortly after midday,
a message arrived from Miss Diana confirming the projected
family dinner; and by five o'clock Sidney and Arthur could be
observed from an upper window escorting their sisters up the hill.
The very real pleasure which the whole family then shared on
being together could only be remarked by Charlotte with approval.
Her own large family of brothers and sisters had scarcely ever
been separated and she wondered if they would undergo such a
great improvement in collective amiability as did the Parkers on
their reunion. Diana, always active and talkative, was more
melIow and good-humoured; Miss Parker less eccentric in her
facial contortions; Mr. Parker more exuberant than ever; and
Arthur wore the look of complete satisfaction which he usually
reserved for his food.
On their entering the drawing room amid all the early confusion
of warm greetings, unanswered questions and unfinished sentences,
Charlotte at first stood a little apart. But Arthur, finding
nobody was listening to <1him,>1 soon detached himself from the knot
at the door and came towards her. Eager to communicate what
he felt about the situation to someone he hoped would attend, he
exclaimed,
"Well, Miss Heywood, did you ever know anything so delightful
as this? Sidney is a capital fellow and makes us all lively. It
always is so. He will be setting schemes afoot for the few days
he is here and turning us all upside down."
The enthusiasm with which Arthur appeared to welcome this
possibility convinced Charlotte that boredom rather than ill-
health was his main problem. The constant company of his
sisters must sometimes be irksome to a young man of one and
twenty; and the regard he seemed to have for his brother was no
doubt founded in part on a desire for occasional excitement and
novelty.
But Miss parker's voice could also be heard amid the babble at
the entrance, predicting with complacence that "everything will
be at sixes and sevens now Sidney is here." And Diana, issuing
brisk directions to Morgan about the various packets of herb tea
they had brought with them, made the tolerant exclamation:
"There, I knew Sidney would forget to bring Susan's phials from
the mantelpiece. Ah well, for one evening what does it matter?
It is not often we can assemble in such a pleasant family group.'
It was a group which could not but interest Charlotte. The
peculiar licence which his brothers and sisters apparently extended
to Mr. Sidney parker had already attracted her attention; and
long before she had an opportunity of talking with him herself,
she was watching him and attending to his conversation with the
others. There was a novelty in his character which to her was
certainly pleasing. His person was uncommonly fine for he was
the tallest of the family; his countenance, though not regularly
handsome, was made nearly so by a pair of very alert and intelli-
gent eyes; and his manners were at once so animated and yet so
polished that she thought it must be impossible for him to be
other than amiable, and was ready to give him the credit for
being perfectly so.
"And what of these friends of yours, Sidney?" demanded Mr.
Parker as soon as they were seated at dinner. "You have not
yet given us an account of them or why they are joining you here.
Will they stay long? Have you mentioned them to us before?
I have been puzzling ever since this morning why you should be
meeting them in Sanditon."
"You may have heard me speak of them -- I have known them
both some time. Reginald Catton and Henry Brudenall."
"Catton -- the young man who is always buying curricles?
Admired that yellow one of yours and had it copied? You
stayed with him last year in Shropshire? And did you not once
say he also had a town house? Not married yet, is he? Why
should he be putting up at a hotel in Sanditon?'
Although Mr. Parker was the elder brother by some seven
years, his quick curiosity and infectious enthusiasm about every-
thing sometimes made him appear the younger of the two.
"Reginald will not be staying more than a night or two, if that,"
explained his brother, replying only to the most relevant of the
questions. "His only purpose in coming is to drive our mutual
friend down from London. And my purpose in meeting them
"Nothin our good sea air will not be able to cure, I hope,"
said Mr. Parker.
"Sea air may be beneficial for some complaints; but there are
certainly many others -- mine and Susans's and I am sure Arthur's
too -- which derive no value from the sea whatsoever. Any
sort of nervous complaint, bile, lumbago, rheumaticky disorders
should be kept well away from the sea. Bronchial conditions
too. l trust Mr. Brudenall does not suffer from asthma?
Sanditon will certainly kill him within his fortnight if he does."
Sidney, who appeared to Charlotte to have some earlier
difficulty in maintaining complete composure, assured his
sister with perfect gravity that Mr. Brudenall was not suffering
from asthma.
"In fact there is nothing <1seriously>1 the matter with Henry.
When I spoke of his health, I was not referring to either its past
or present state, but rather to the future, he said somewhat
obscurely; he paused, apparently decided some further explana-
tion was necessary, and continued: "The case is that Henry is
soon to go out to India. Being the younger son of a respectable
but impoverished family, there is not much future for him in
England, and he is being sent off to make his fortune in Bengal.
With a sea voyage of several months ahead of him, his family feel
he should harden his constitution by some earlier exposure to the
sea air.
"I see," said Mr. parker doubtfully.
"You mean he is quite healthy otherwise?" demanded Diana,
her disappointment overshadowing her judgement.
"It seems to me a singular manner of proceeding," Mrs. Parker
had begun when Arthur, who had been staring fixedly at his
brother, suddenly burst out laughing and said,
"Oh, but it is all a complete hum. Sidney is making up the
whole story. I can tell by his face. It is nothing but one of his
take-ins."
Sidney smiled at him.
"Let us say I only half expected you to be taken in by it," he
admitted frankly. "And I must confess I had forgotten, when I
so unwisely mentioned health, how you would all go plagueing
Henry about asthma and bile and nervous disorders till you had
diagnosed him to your satisfaction. On the spur of the moment
my powers of invention failed me and I could hit upon no better
story than that. It <1is>1 quite true that he is going to Bengal. But
now I suppose I must let you fully into the secret; though to all
outsiders I think it best to maintain the fiction that Henry is here
in Sanditon for his health. They at least should be too tactful to
enquire the exact nature of his complaints."
He said this in a more serious tone than he had used previously
and went on to explain that his friend's lack of spirits, which
called for some weeks of retirement, resulted more from the state
of the heart than that of the body. Mr. Brudenall had been for
many years most warmly attached to a cousin and she to him.
They had always intended to marry before setting out for India,
which his family indeed had in mind for him from a very early
age. Their betrothal, although a close family secret, had been
approved by both sets of parents; but on <1her>1 side it was felt that
she should be given the enjoyment of a season in London before
entering upon the long and no doubt cheerless exile in Bengal.
Next year had been the time fixed for their marriage and
departure. And what had been Henry's dismay when he had
heard -- only last month -- of his cousin's public engagement to
another. Sidney Parker believed it impossible for a man to be
more attached to a woman than Henry had been to his cousin.
Even now he uttered no word of reproach towards <1her.>1 He felt
<1his>1 future was a dismal one and he did not blame her for choosing
a better match and a more comfortable existence. But his father
was now truly anxious to hasten his departure from England as a
means of providing some new direction for his thoughts, to remove
him from past associations and settle him as early as possible
in the circle where he would spend the rest of his life. preparations
for his journey were now well in hand, but his cousin's wedding
would be taking place within the next fortnight; and as their
assembled families would be expected to attend, it was thought
more convenient for Henry to absent himself from London.
Sidney and his friend, Reginald Catton, being consulted over the
problem, had decided Reginald would drive Henry to Sanditon on
his own way to Brighton; and Sidney would ensure his introduc-
tion there among strangers, who would know nothing and ask
nothing about him during this very delicate period.
"I do not object to taking my own family into my confidence
over this; but what I have told you must go no further than this
table," he warned them. "Henry is a most sensitive young man
and would be deeply upset if he felt everyone he met in Sanditon
was pitying him on his cousin's wedding day."
The sympathy and good will which Sidney had now excited
towards his friend was very great.
"poor young man," said Diana. "But you have done very
well in telling us this, Sidney. It is very bad that his prospects
have been blighted by a thoughtless young woman, but who
knows what unguarded remarks we might have let fall had we not
known the full circumstances?"
"Indeed yes," agreed Mrs. Parker. "It is always better to tell
the truth."
Arthur, who was still watching his brother intently, appeared
quite satisfied this time. And Sidney, after a quick glance round
the dinner table which confirmed his impression that Henry
Brudenall would meet with only tact and kindness in Sanditon,
was content to drop the subject and turn the conversation on
other matters.
CHAPTER14
AFTER DINNER, Charlotte was given an opportunity for study-
ing Sidney Parker a little more closely as, stationing himself by
her, he claimed her attention in the most friendly manner.
"I am persuaded you will prove an ally of mine, Miss Heywood.
I am always on the lookout for one on these occasions," he said,
pulling up a chair next to hers. 'Till the tea tray is brought in,
nobody else will talk of anything but the value of various herbs
in digesting what they have just eaten."
"For shame, Sidney, you do exaggerate," protested Mr. parker
as he joined them.
"Then go and see for yourself whether I do," replied Sidney
waving him away. "l grant there may be an occasional digression
on the advantages of one medicine over another in further digesting
the herb tea; and perhaps a minor disagreement on the exact
temperature at which both should be taken to settle the stomach
completely. But I do assure you, Miss Heywood, I have some-
times sat for over an hour without wedging another subject into
our family discussions."
"An hour] What nonsense]" cried Diana, interrupting her own
conversation at the far end of the room with an ease which
showed her quite capable of listening and talking at the same
time. "I would be the last person to deny we are all sad invalids
and you give us no sympathy. But, Miss Heywood, you must
not believe everything Sidney says. His high spirits often run
away with him and he frequently speaks without thinking. I am
sure it is impossible for <1anyone>1 to talk less of their health than we
do in general with so much cause."
"And I am sure Miss Heywood has already suffered just such
ordeals as l have described," retorted Sidney, "and will be ready to
join forces with me in repelling them."
"phoo, phoo. Now you are being quite ridiculous."
"Let him be, Diana," Mr. Parker advised her. "It is only his
usual way of talking himself into doing just as he wishes. But we
will let him sit next to Miss Heywood if he is so determined on it."
And he turned away with great good humour to settle down
between his two sisters on the sofa.
"Every member of a family thinks he knows the other's faults,"
said Sidney, laughing. "But now I <1have>1 got my own way, I will
share the victory by allowing you to choose the topic of our
conversation, Miss Heywood."
Charlotte was quite ready to talk on any subject and suggested
books; and they were soon engaged in comparing their opinions
on those <1she>1 had read; for she did not doubt that he had read a
great many more.
No one was more calculated to shine in such a conversation than
Sidney, who was so far from having any fixed opinion that he
could alter it whenever he chose, sometimes agreeing and some-
times dissenting, according to whichever view he decided would
provide most entertainment for the moment. He could, therefore,
always take either side and always argue with temper. They
continued conversing together on a variety of subjects for Sidney
seldom dwelt long on any but had something to say on all; and
Charlotte was soon convinced that, both in natural abilities and
acquired information, he was infinitely superior to the rest of his
family.
He talked well and with a great deal of sense; and she could not
help contrasting his manner and the subject matter he chose
with that of the two other young men she had met and conversed
with recently. Sir Edward Denham, displaying quotations like
framed certificates of culture in his talk, had been a sad disappoint-
ment as an amiable acquaintance. And as for Arthur Parker --
he had not the slightest idea how to make himself agreeable to any
young lady, believing his diet and his symptoms must be as para-
mount an interest to all women as they were to his two sisters.
Mr. Sidney Parker's ready address and well-bred ease of manner
made him a much more entertaining companion than either of
them; and Charlotte found the evening passing more swiftly and
delightfully for her than any she had known since her arrival
in Sanditon.
But having heard his opinion tin many topics, she remained
doubtful of his real tastes; for though his mind was clearly well-
informed, he frequently surprised her by a lack of conformity and
by contradicting one idea with another. In his indifference over
maintaining any uniform attitude, Sidney was certainly very unlike
his companion, whose judgement had been guided by her parents
from an early age and who always adopted a restrained and con-
sistent standpoint.
"I see there is absolutely no shaking your common sense, Miss
Heywood, and will stop teasing you and let you have your tea,"
he said, rising at last; and Charlotte was surprised to discover
the tea tray had been in the room for some time and could not
credit how the interval had passed so quickly. She now felt she
had been insensible in monopolising Sidney's attention in this
family circle where all wished to talk to him, and reproached
herself for such thoughtlessness in consulting nobody's pleasure
but her own during the last hour.
Fearful of being considered negligent of others, she immediately
rose too, determined to rectify such selfish behavior. But he pro-
tested against this, begging her to remain where she was while he
brought their tea; and though approving his civility she still
insisted on a slight adjustment of her position which would
bring them more into the general discussion. This he acknowl-
edged with a smile as he helped her to the tea things, only adding
a cheerful warning.
"Perhaps we have managed to escape the worst, but from what
I have just overheard, their favourite topic is by no means
exhausted."
And Charlotte, turning her attention back to the main party and
picking up the threads of the conversation, soon realised his
sisters had indeed discovered a new hazard to their health. Miss
Parker, replying to a polite enquiry from her sister-in-law and
acknowledging they were <1fairly well>1 settled in their new lodgings
on the Terrace, had just startled her audience by remarking, in the
same languid tones, that she suspected their new scullery maid
was, however, slowly poisoning them all.
"poison?" exclaimed Mr. parker, rather aghast. "My dear
Susan, you cannot be serious. What is this you are saying?"
"Yes, Tom, it is only too true, agreed Miss Diana more
energetically. "I am always running to the kitchen every possible
second to try to prevent it. But I fear we are being poisoned --
oh, unintentionally, I suppose. The fact is we are convinced this
new scullery maid we have hired never rinses the dishes; and
soap, as you know, is <1highly>1 poisonous. But nothing I say seems
to convince her of the seriousness of the situation. Would you
believe it -- she actually laughed at me -- said her last employers
never insisted on rinsing dishes and never knew a day's illness.
Oh, Sally is a good-hearted, pleasant enough girl but I am afraid
she will have to go or poor Susan will never be in good health here.
And Arthur is now beginning to suffer almost identical symptoms
-- spent the most wretched night, scarcely closing his eyes for one
minute. Both Susan and I tried everything we could to get him
off -- hot bricks and weak cocoa -- though he will never try my
favourite concoction for sleeplessness. Warm water steeped with
the second rind of an alder stick -- have I recommended that to
you before, Mary? But last night poor Arthur begged only for
a small glass of port wine; and after a while, I could see none of us
would get any sleep unless I gave in, so I judged it best to let him
have it. port wine, after all, seldom does great harm and I do
believe he spent the rest of the night fairly comfortably. At all
events Susan and l got off and heard no more. But today, as a
result, we have all been in very poor shape. Had it not been for
Sidney's arrival, I am sure we would have all gone to bed this
evening long before dinner."
During this account of Arthur's recent indisposition, Charlotte
had turned her eyes towards him where he sat, sipping his cocoa
and eating his toast beside his sister-in-law. Beyond a little
sleepiness and a great deal of indolence, she could not detect that
he had passed such an uncomfortable night as Miss Diana de-
scribed. Following her gaze and surmising her thoughts, Sidney
Parker murmured in a quiet undertone.
"Arthur's health has always been an obsession of theirs. My
eldest brother and l had the advantage of being sent away to
school before our parents died and thus escaped falling into our
sisters' care. Arthur, as you see, was not so lucky. They have
cossetted him and pandered to him for so long that he positively
enjoys being an invalid now."
There was such an air of good humour and frankness in Sidney
that Charlotte, though feeling herself unauthorised to speak of his
family with so much familiarity, could not but respond to it and
speak to him at that moment as he spoke to her.
'But surely it is very dreadful for so young a man to take no
interest in anything except his health? Cannot something be done
to <1make>1 him adopt a profession? Or at the very least develop
some enthusiasm which might take up more of his time?"
"I tried my best to take him abroad with me last year, but he
had very little eagerness for travel himself; and Susan and Diana
between them soon convinced him he would be most uncom-
fortable moving about from one foreign city to another."
"Perhaps if he had some property," said Charlotte, rather
hesitantly, "he might bestir himself in trying to improve it.
"He has a small competence, quite sufficient for his needs and
offering him no great excitement in enlarging it. But discussing
money with Arthur is more than uphill work -- I long ago came to
the conclusion that no prospect of financial reward would ever
push <1him>1 into exertion. The best we can hope is that he will de-
velop some harmless interest of his own -- an over-riding passion
for collecting butterflies, watching birds or breeding dogs; these
are the sort of activities which I believe Arthur could enter into
with great success, but they are not the sort a brother can guess or
force on him. Some chance encounter with an enthusiast or some
buried inclination of his own must provide the stimulus. Our family
are not usually lacking in enthusiasm after all. On the contrary,
my sisters' whims and oddities frequently run away with them."
Deciding Sidney's discussion of his family was now becoming
rather too outspoken for her to encourage, Charlotte made no
reply and, turning slightly, directed her attention back to the group.
But the rest of the Parkers being still engaged on the failings of
temporary servants, their resistance to training and the possible
recmits at present available from Sanditon village, no immediate
opening presented itself for her to join in.
Mr. Parker, having run through the list of candidates for Sally's
place, soon began trying to persuade his sisters that the bracing
effects of sea air alone would be sufficient to counteract any dire
results they expected from the soap poisoning. And, after sitting
for some little time, listening to him expound on this well-worn
theme, Charlotte heard a chuckle at her elbow and Sidney parker
speaking again in a low voice.
"You know, in some ways Tom is the worst of them all. <1His>1
fancy for medicine takes a different turn. He places all his blind
reliance in Dr. Sanditon, which is just as foolish and even more
wayward than my sisters' faith in quack remedies."
While she did not censure these opinions, Charlotte felt all the
impropriety of his making them known to her, who was little more
than a stranger. And yet Sidney Parker's manners were so
obviously those of the fashionable world that she also felt both
priggish and provincial for daring to criticise them. His ease
and openness and the delight with which he seized on anything
which might contribute to his own amusement or that of others --
all these, she conceded, were perfectly allowable in someone who
spent the greater part of his time in the wider society of London.
But in her narrow and limited experience, which so far had ex-
tended little beyond her own comfortable and well-regulated
family circle, a very' different style of behaviour was practised
and a very different set of values the only acceptable ones. The
exercise of continual restraint in all social meetings, a proper
consideration of both neighbours and relations, and a tactful for-
bearance in censuring the foibles of others were the principles she
had always been taught to respect. She recognized their im-
portance in maintaining good relations among people who were
destined to meet each other every day of their lives, but could
perceive their drawbacks where any contribution of wit or
liveliness might be expected in the gaieties of small talk; and
though she envied Sidney parker his freedom of saying whatever
came into his head to whoever he happened to be near, she made
no attempt to follow his example.
But with some surprise at her continued silence, he pressed even
more pointedly for her opinion till Charlotte realised there was
no avoiding a reply.
"You cannot really expect me to agree with you, Mr. parker,"
she said with evident reluctance and in a tone of mild seriousness.
"For although there may be no harm in your speaking of your own
family in such terms, it would be the greatest impertinence for me
to do the same."
It was said and she could not regret it. She felt some mortifica-
tion in having been forced to reveal her own sober standards of
conduct and even more in reflecting that he would probably find
her both dull and slow-witted beside his usual companions. But
the reproof which had cost her such deliberation to deliver was
met only with a shout of delighted laughter.
"Oh sensible, prudent Miss Heywood, how very correct in you
to rebuke me," said he, very much amused. "You are already so
well acquainted with my family that I had forgotten how short a
while <1we>1 have known each other. I should, of course, have
waited at least a month before trying to compare our opinions on
all my relations."
"I very much doubt that a month would bring any great change
in my outlook," replied Charlotte, quite firmly. "Very few of us
lack superficial faults and we must rely on each other's kindness
to overlook them."
"But people take such trouble with their faults and go to such
lengths to make them fascinating to others that it is really very
<1unkind>1 to overlook them," protested Sidney. "They would much
rather be laughed at on their own merits than politely ignored as
members of a community."
Charlotte could not help smiling at so light-hearted a defence of
his own forthright methods in conversation; but very satisfied to
have made her own point while exciting so little ill-will, she was
now quite determined to end any private discussion between them;
and pretending the general talk among the others had absorbed
her full attention, she managed to shift her chair by almost im-
perceptible movements towards the larger circle.
He saw what she was about and good-naturedly let her have
her way, making only one last attempt to provoke another smile
from her before rising to surrender his position.
"Here comes Arthur. I am sure you will find conversation with
him less of an effort. No need at all to ponder over the correct
reply to any of his statements," he said. "l can tell by the look on,
his face that he intends to explain in great detail how and why the
cranberry custard at dinner did not make him <1quite>1 bilious."
She tried to look disapprovingly at him as he moved off to
occupy the vacated chair by his sister-in-law but found it harder
to repress the smile when Arthur, having taken the seat beside her
in exchange, began in almost the exact style his brother had
predicted. It was the roast duckling he selected to illustrate his
point and not the cranberry custard, but Charlotte had great
difficulty in keeping her countenance as she listened. Indeed,
once when she looked up and noticed Sidney's eyes on her as he
leaned forward to enjoy Arthur's recital himself, she had to turn
away quickly on the prerext of finding her workbox and sorting
a fringe of Mrs. Parker's.
It was only after she had picked it up that she remembered her
promise of having it ready soon after dinner. She had been so
well entertained ever since that she had completely forgotten
Mrs. Parker's fringe. She busied herself with it now, resolving to
do penance for the very real enjoyment the evening had already
afforded her.
The others were soon engaged in discussing the arrival of Sid-
ney's friends; and he was very willing to outline the many schemes
he had in mind for their entertainment.
"I doubt whether Reginald will remain more than a day in
Sanditon -- probably not more than a few hours -- so we need
not plan much on his behalf unless he decides to drive over again
from Brighton. But with Henry, no effort will be too great. I
know l can rely on you to make him feel welcome; but it occurs
to me that more is required to keep his mind off his own problems.
lf he could be constantly moving among an entirely new set of
people -- and we could organise some little excursions and parties
for his benefit --"
"Excursions, parties] What can you be thinking of, Sidney?
Here are Susan and I quite worn out with settling ourselves down
in Sanditon] What can you mean us to do for your friend?"
"We could all take walks in pleasant groups, go for drives to
local beauty spots," Sidney suggested with alacrity. "And I am
not only referring to <1us>1 but to the neighbouring families in general,"
throwing his arms wide to include the whole of Sanditon. "There
are Mrs. Griffiths and her party you have been speaking of this
evening. And I remember Tom saying on my last visit that the
Denhams were a presentable young couple -- and then there is
that niece or cousin or whoever it is Lady Denham has with her --"
"Miss Brereton," supplied Mr. Parker. "She and Lady Den-
ham are often with us as a matter of course in our comings and
goings."
"Indeed she and Miss Heywood are to bathe together for the
first time tomorrow, said Mrs. Parker. "But Lady Denham
herself has become so very settled in her ways that I doubt she
would welcome more contact with her neighbours. And my dear
Sidney, beyond these daily meetings we have with our friends,
what can you want us to be attempting?
"A ball or a dance or something of that sort," Sidney told her
promptly.
"A ball] A dance]"
"Well at least there are young ladies enough in Sanditon --
"Impossible]" cried Mr. Parker, shrugging his despair at this
suggestion. "Only last year we tried to arrange a few fortnightly
assemblies during the season and the project was abandoned for
want of support.
"But am I not now pointing out you will find more support this
season? Sidney persisted. A little discouragement to be over-
come was apparently no evil to him. He rather derived spirits
from it and, always confident of success, began demanding to
know where last year's assemblies would have been held.
"To be sure there is a capital set of assembly rooms close by the
hotel," Mr. parker told him with some pride and more vexation.
"I am telling you the only difficulty is that there is nobody to
fill them. Be reasonable, Sidney. This is not Brighton, you
know."
"Not Brighton perhaps. But what is that other resort you are
forever mentioning? Bridley or Brincombe?"
"You mean Brinshore?"
"Brinshore. The very place. I am convinced they have more by
way of entertainment in Brinshore, In fact, I would be extremely
surprised to learn that Brinshore had no fortnightly assemblies."
Charlotte saw directly that Sidney Parker was now trying to
assail his brother on his most vulnerable side. He probably knew
nothing whatsoever about what went on in Brinshore but as a lever
for persuasion he realised its value; and his perseverance in his
own schemes, which had not been damped by any objections,
redoubled as he saw the way he could achieve them. By skilfully
throwing Brinshore into the discussion at the opportune moment,
he had soon awakened eager speculation on what Sanditon could
also offer its visitors in the matter of entertainment.
And Charlotte, watching and listening to all of this, decided
Sidney's exertions on behalf of his friend were going to prove
quite equal in scope to anything his sister Diana ever attempted.
CHAPTER15
AS IT HAPPENED, Charlotte was able to witness the arrival of
Sidney Parker's friends in Sanditon the following morning. She
and Clara Brereton had just left Trafalgar House for their descent
to the sands when a very handsome barouche swept past the end
of the driveway and continued at a smart pace downhill to the
hotel. They were too far off to determine the occupants with any
certainty. Charlotte, guessing whom the barouche might contain,
thought she perceived two young men; but Miss Brereton, a more
impartial observer, could distinguish nothing beyond a vague
number of heads, two splendidly conspicuous black horses and a
vast deal of shiny paintwork glittering in the sun.
"What people of fashion can these be? Does Mr. Parker
know anything of them? I am sure Lady Denham has heard of
no such party arriving]" were her first exclamations of surprise.
"In a small resort like Sanditon, I suppose someone usually
hears something in advance?" said Charlotte, still straining her
eyes and unwilling to be definite.
"Oh yes. people nearly always write ahead. Friends recom-
mend the place after being here themselves, you know. A Mr.
and Mrs. Marlowe -- visitors last year -- wrote only this week
to Lady Denham mentioning a family they <1believed>1 might be
coming to Sanditon for the season. The daughter, poor thing,
has been having severe attacks of the migraine and her parents
hope sea air might relieve them a little. Could it be these Fletchers
indeed arriving so soon?"
The barouche had now drawn up in the coach yard of the hotel
and Charlotte tried to discern the occupants descending from
it; she was sure there were only two but the strong sunlight was
blurring rather than assisting her vision.
"Mr. Sidney Parker is also expecting some friends in Sanditon
toda y. "
"Well, whoever they may be, this is at least some news I can
carry back to Lady Denham," said Miss Brereton with satisfaction.
"She is always accusing me of being unobservant and incurious;
and I must admit I am usually the last to learn of anything that
happens in Sanditon."
This placid view of her own defects of temperament struck
Charlotte as containing a good deal of truth. So far as her own
observation went, Miss Brereton's disposition was indeed of a
withdrawn, daydreaming and secretive nature. And as they
walked on down the hill, she heightened this impression by falling
into a sudden reverie. With a pensive and wholly preoccupied air,
she ignored all Charlotte's further attempts at conversation and
stared fixedly ahead at the distant inn yard and the bustle the
arrival of the barouche was occasioning. That her thoughts
were pleasant was evident from the slight smile flitting now and
then across the beautiful face; but what they could be remained
a mystery to Charlotte. Clara Brereton had clearly forgotten
both her companion and their conversation and was indulging in
some happy train of introspection as though she were quite alone.
Charlotte, who could never have allowed her own thoughts
to absorb her to such an extent -- to the almost complete
exclusion of her surroundings -- was more fascinated than ever
as the conviction grew on her that the air of secrecy which clung
about Miss Brereton was quite unstudied. Nothing seemed to be
feigned. On the contrary, Miss Brereton appeared ger,uinely
contrite, genuinely apologetic when at last roused from her fit
of abstraction.
When Charlotte decided to end this interlude of silence, she
judged it best to check their walk and stand still for a moment.
"I have now been in Sanditon long enough to realise what
enthusiasm there is for new arrivals and their requirements," she
remarked rather more loudly than necessary and stopping to
confront Miss Brereton; but the blank expression on the face
turned towards her was sufficient confirmation that Miss
Brereton had heard not one word of this very prosaic sentence
either. She tried afresh.
"Everyone takes such an interest in visitors here," she said
with a smile. "They are all competing with each other to spread
any news there is."
Miss Brereton at last seemed to recollect herself. Her recent ad-
mission that Lady Denham frequently scolded her for being
inattentive, Charlotte now decided, was probably a very useful
illustration of both their characters. Lady Denham, so sharp and
practical herself, must often become rather irritated with her Miss
Clara, while the latter would need to exercise considerable for-
bearance, patience and self-control to remain on comfortable
terms with her; and Charlotte, observing the very real exertions
her companion was making to suppress what remained of her own
private musings, was much inclined to give Miss Brereton all the
credit for the fact that they lived together in such continued
harmony.
"Oh dear, yes -- the Sanditon news." She sighed. "And I
am facing the strongest competition of all. You must know, Miss
Heywood, that the gardener from Sanditon House is a great
collector of local news, both from the village and from the hill.
He delivers our extra gardenstuff round Sanditon every day and
brings back all the gossip in return; but perhaps this is one
occasion where I can be ahead of Hodges. If you do not dislike
it, when we have finished our bathe, I should like to call at the
hotel and find out the particulars from Mrs. Woodcock."
Charlotte positive she had just seen a figure in a blue coat, like
Mr. Sidney Parker's, welcoming the newcomers into the hotel,
was now convinced she could identify them.
"I have no objection but I am sure I can save you that trouble,'
she replied. "They <1are>1 Mr. parker's friends -- a Mr. Reginald
Catton and a Mr. Henry Brudenall."
"Reginald Catton -- and Henry Brudenall," echoed Miss
Brereton, as though dutifully memorising the names for later
repetition to Lady Denham. "And -- " she appeared uncertain
what further particulars might be demanded from her -- "and
will they be staying here long?"
"Mr. Catton, I believe not. But Mr. Brudenall has come for
his health and, l understand, will remain some weeks."
Unlike the Parkers, Miss Brereton showed no interest at all in
Mr. Brudenall's health; and accepting this statement without
query, seemed satisfied that the names alone -- which she repeated
to herself several times -- were sufficient information to have
collected ahead of Hodges.
Only too willing to avoid further discussion of the new arrivals,
Charlotte led the way down to the Terrace; and after several
minutes, deciding to take advantage of another long pause to
drop the subject completely, she observed,
"What a beautiful day we have chosen for our bathe. I have
not seen such a clear sky all summer." And she looked about her
with pleasure at the blue sky, the green downs and the sparkling
sea, "I am looking forward to it immensely -- are you not too?
But I still cannot quite imagine what it must feel like to be in the
sea. Do you think the water will be very cold?"
Receiving no immediate answer, she glanced back at Miss
Brereton and saw that her eyes were again roving eagerly on
ahead with a look of animation -- almost, Charlotte would have
said, of anticipation. The unwelcome suspicion that she was
already watching for Sir Edward could not fail to intrude, but
Charlotte tried to repress it and make herself believe that Miss
Brereton was merely enjoying the prospect of their bathe and
the beauty of the open scenery spread out before them under a
bright midday sun. Headland after weathered headland could
be seen stretching into the distance beyond the beach of polished
pebbles edging a tidy blue sea. A few clouds hung on the horizon
and a few gulls went wheeling and crying overhead, but otherwise
the shore was deserted.
Charlotte determined to make no more efforts at conversation;
and by the time they had passed the Terrace, leaving the more
spectacular view from the hillside behind them, Miss Brereton had
become quite talkative herself. Lady Denham had told her that
Mrs. Gunn's was the bathing machine they must patronise; and
afterwards they must certainly drink tea and eat bread and butter
in the thatched tea rooms which Lady Denham and Mr. Parker
had constructed just above the beach the season before.
"Mr. Parker also advised us to do that," said Charlotte.
"Oh yes, the seaside tea rooms are entirely his own idea. He
never heard of the innovation from any other resort. And Lady
Denham did not think them necessary at all. The building is
very simple -- there, you can see it now, just below us, at the top
of the shingle -- but Lady Denham finds it too large and elaborate.
She would have preferred a more temporary structure and fears
this will never show a return for the money invested."
"I have no doubt Mr. Parker considers permanent tea rooms
part of the amenities of Sanditon, a convenience to bathers,
which helps attract visitors. And the profit must be looked for
in the rents they receive from their houses.
"Ah -- you hear all Mr. Parker's views on his improvements --
and I, Lady Denham's. lt would be interesting for us to com-
pare them sometimes because I am sure they do not always
coincide," said Miss Brereton with a smile and a more open and
encouraging manner than she had yet shown; and Charlotte,
feeling their conversation was at last becoming natural, smiled
back her agreement. For in spite of Miss Brereton's inconsistent
behaviour and her own resolution of observing caution towards
any friendship between them, she was still prepared to like and
admire her so long as Sir Edward remained out of sight.
"Lady Denham tries to encourage everyone to use the tea
rooms -- the walkers as well as the bathers," continued Miss
Brereton. "But as she has never found it very convenient to
walk so far herself just to drink tea, I hardly think she will succeed
in persuading anyone else."
Another of her friendly, half-rueful smiles made Charlotte
like her even better; and though they were only discussing tea
rooms, she could not regret that their acquaintance was already
advancing some way towards intimacy.
They had now reached the edge of the shingle bank which
shelved quite steeply towards the sea, bordered by a strip of sand.
When the tide was out, this strip widened; and as it was now
almost at low water, considerable spaces of fine hard sand were
visible -- particularly at the far end of the beach, near the rocks
and bathing machines. They walked on towards them along the
natural rampart of pebbles, which formed the upper part of the
shore line, and were soon taken in charge by Mrs. Gunn, a large
and somewhat intimidating personage.
She directed the young ladies into her bathing machine, had
the horse put to while they changed into bathing garments, and
guided it out into deep water. She then let down the green hood
at the front of the caravan, hooked a ladder into position and
supervised their descent into the water, issuing very sensible
directions and maintaining such a constant flow of talk that any
apprehensions they may have felt were very soon dispelled.
It was all so novel and interesting to Charlotte that she could
not have said which sensation impressed her most: the heat inside
the bathing machine as the sun beat down on its roof, the sudden
tingling cold of the sea water or the rather terrifying surge and
movement as it lapped past her. The brilliant shimmer of the
sun on the sea was at first so dazzling, and her eyes so full of this
reflected light, that for several moments she could see nothing.
She was not even very sure she was enjoying herself. But
when she grew more accustomed and could distinguish all the
separate features, had time to look around her -- at the sunlight
sparkling on the water, at the ripples and shadows as the sea
responded to every change in that sunlight, and at the gulls, flying
to and fro, now vanishing into the white of the waves, now stand-
ing out in contrast to sea and sky -- she suddenly found herself
smiling at she knew not what: the smell of the salt air, the soft
freshness of the fine southerly breeze, the rhythmic flow of the
water, the pure joy of the day.
"Walk a little and move around constantly," advised Mrs.
Gunn sternly. "But do not go pivotting and prancing about like
that. The practise of some females in jigging and jumping up and
down in the water has no value whatsoever, medicinal or artistic."
Charlotte, who had been doing a little gentle jumping herself,
looked round enquiringly, unable to understand why such a dictum
should be either issued or obeyed; and discovered to her surprise
that Miss Brereton with far more liveliness had been splashing
and leaping, her face quite radiant with pleasure in discovering
so delightful a sensation. They smiled at each other with such a
lack of constraint, such happy, open enjoyment in sharing that
shining sea that Charlotte felt sure Miss Brereton could only be a
normal girl like herself -- more beautiful and bewitching perhaps,
but essentially simple and unaffected -- and certainly not the
deceitful conspirator she had sometimes been imagining.
All too soon, Mrs. Gunn was ordering them back into the ma-
chine; and although they begged to stay longer in the sea, she
insisted that fifteen minutes was more than enough for the first
time and would hear of no extension.
The two girls, having stood on Mrs. Gunn's footwarmers, been
vigorously towelled to restore their circulation and ordered to
change their dress quickly to avoid chills, were then advised by
Mrs. Gunn to take gentle exercise and the prescribed cup of tea
which all Sanditon seemed determined to recommend to everyone
else.
Still in perfect charity with each other, the young ladies did all
these things, discussing only the pleasure they had felt in their bathe
and seeming to forget everything that did not increase this new
bond between them. Charlotte, in fact, was beginning to hope
they could often share such innocent morning expeditions when,
suddenly looking up towards the Terrace, she saw Sir Edward
Denham walking purposefully in their direction.
"Here comes Sir Edward," she said with cold vexation.
had no notion he intended to walk this way today. However
there is no need for <1that>1 to delay <1us.">1
"No, no, of course not," cried Miss Brereton, but she flushed
nevertheless. "I suppose -- I suppose some business or other
brings him here. No doubt he will soon tell us what it is."
"It can be no concern of mine, said Charlotte with indiffer-
ence. "Unless he wishes to accompany us the short distance to
Trafalgar House. Mrs. parker is hoping you will give us the
rest of your morning. And I am quite ready to walk back there
now if you are agreeable."
"Yes -- no. That is -- were we not going to call in to see Mrs.
Woodcock at the hotel?"
"But surely you decided that was unnecessary?" said Charlotte
wirh surprise. "I hardly thought -- "
"Oh well -- perhaps we had best see what Sir Edward suggests,"
said Miss Brereton, looking even more embarrassed. "possibly
he has -- he may -- " She stopped in some confusion and
Charlotte could only stare at her incredulously, feeling she was
confronted by some mysterious heroine, whose actions were
unpredictable, and not the companionable friend she had been
learning to like for the last hour. Clara Brereton must be as
capable as she was of forming a just opinion of Sir Edward; and
judging from her own reactions, Charlotte imagined such
attentions as his would rather irritate than gratify; and yet here
was Miss Brereton willing to wait about and encourage them.
They said no more on the subject and an uneasy silence replaced
their former friendly chatter; for Charlotte, not even troubling to
hide her annoyance, was determined to be as unhelpful and mute
as possible within the bounds of common politeness; and Miss
Brereton, glancing anxiously towards the Terrace, seemed divided
between making apologies over this delay and trying to discover
if the meeting were being observed by any but the three it in-
volved. Sir Edward alone appeared in full command of his usual
loquacity.
"How fortunate I am in finding both fair charmers of Sanditon
still by the sea shore, just as in my most sanguine expectations,
he began with one of his flourishing bows. "It were fallacious
of me to pretend I am not come by design for I am presuming to
hope I may accompany you on your necessary exercise."
"I am afraid you have come too late, Sir Edward," Charlotte
said firmly. "We have walked enough already and were on the
point of returning home."
"Ah, but you have underestimated the amount of exercise one
must take after saline immersion," cried Sir Edward. "And
naturally, one cannot walk forever along the beach. But I hope
I can persuade you to perambulate as far as my precious little
cottage orne, which is now so nearly finished that l prognosticate
prevenient tenants. Your comments will be of such ineffable use.
The cottage needs a woman's discrimination to tell me what is now
lacking there."
For Charlotte the prospect was one of unrelieved boredom in
listening to Sir Edward. And although she suspected Miss
Brereton was very eager to go -- nay, had even planned this
meeting with Sir Edward so she could see over his building
venture without any impropriety -- she had no inclination to
accompany them.
"Your sister's comments must surely be of greater value than
ours? She has had far more practice in running a house," she
pointed out. "And if you want outside opinions, Miss Diana
Parker would be the very person to advise you. Some day you
must arrange a little viewing party to see over your cottage, Sir
Edward. This morning, I am afraid, Mrs. Parker is already
expecting us back at Trafalgar House."
"But the cottage is no more than a step down the length of the
beach -- nestling into that craggy cliff you see jutting out by the
river. The delay will be a mere nothing. Come now, you
cannot refuse."
"I would not be so <1very>1 disinclined -- " began Miss Brereton.
"But I am already beginning to feel unreasonably tired," said
Charlotte quite untruthfully and in no very cordial tones. "I have
now just strength enough left to climb our hill."
But Sir Edward was not to be deflected as easily as this. He
continued to urge and to persist, with sentences almost too
elaborate for his powers, till Charlotte began to be both angry and
resentful at so selfish a perseverance in waving aside all her
objections.
"Depend upon it, Mrs. Parker cannot miss you for half an hour,
even an hour. And your present fatigue is not to be regarded,
merely unfamiliar sensations in etchanging one element for
another -- but all exactly suited to produce only the most healthful
stimulation of mind and body."
Charlotte looked towards Miss Brereton and realised she would
receive no support from that averted face and guarded silence;
and, as always, she was unable to decide the exact state of their
owner's feelings towards Sir Edward. The calm reserve of
manner showed none of Charlotte s own distaste but no positive
admiration either. perhaps she considered his title, his hand-
some good looks and their combined prospects as Lady Denham's
favourites and possible heirs would outweigh all his defects and
make him an acceptable suiter? Whether Miss Brereton could
sacrifice every better feeling to worldly advantage, Charlotte was
hardly in a position to decide. She would not have believed it
possible of the joyful young woman who had been dancing
among the waves an hour since, but the circumspect stranger who
had now replaced her might indeed be capable of it.
There was obviously great caution and great resolution in Miss
Brereton somewhere, for while she avoided meeting Charlotte's
eye and appeared insensible to her wishes, she gave no marked
encouragement to Sir Edward's proposals either: it was all
prudence, reticence and indecision.
This inconclusive style of conduct was not at all to Charlotte's
liking and made her more determined than ever to escape the role
of chaperone being forced upon her. If Miss Brereton wished to
inspect Sir Edward's cottage, she would have to make some other
opportunity; she herself had reached the conclusion that her own
best course of action was to face their joint displeasure by flatly
announcing her intention of returning forthwith to Trafalgar
House.
She was on the point of carrying out this decision when,
chancing to look towards the hotel, she perceived Sidney Parker
and one of his friends to be crossing the threshold. She was
certain they had seen the group by the shore; they seemed to be
hesitating, to be conferring, and then to be moving towards them;
and on a sudden impulse, deciding such an addition to their party
might help her to separate Sir Edward and Miss Brereton, she
abruptly changed her mind.
"Very well then, l agree to come," she said. "But first of all
here is a pebble lodged in my shoe which must be removed before
we set out. It is quite impossible for me to walk on it."
And so saying, she sat down on a ridge of shingle and proceeded
to spend as much time as she could locating and removing this
irritating, non-existent pebble.
CHAPTER16
SIDNEY PARKER'S CoMPANION must be Mr. Reginald Catton,
Charlotte decided, though for no better reason than that he would
seem the less likely of the two expected friends to sit gloomily
indoors on a pleasant sunny day. She watched them approach,
trying to determine when a meeting between the two groups would
become inevitable, and finally rejoined Sir Edward and Miss
Brereton only in time to say,
"Here are Mr. Sidney Parker and one of his friends walking
towards us. I do not think you are yet acquainted? and then
turned her back on any attempt Sir Edward could have made to
hurry them away at the last moment.
The stranger was undoubtedly the taller and more handsome
of the two advancing but it was Sidney Parker's alertness of
manner which claimed the greater share of Charlotte's attention;
and when, while still beyond hailing distance, he waved to her
gaily with a pleased air of encounter, she felt she had neither seen
him the night before nor thought of him since with an admiration
he did not merit. By contrast, his friend's less vital appearance
made very little impression till Sidney surprised her by intro-
ducing him as Mr. Brudenall -- Reginald Catton being so little
inclined to sit indoors and so much more active and high-spirited
that he had already set off for Brighton to keep a pressing evening
engagement.
Henry Brudenall then appeared just as he ought: as romantic,
as sombre and as sensitive as she could have imagined. But she
scarcely had time to adjust her ideas and begin to appreciate this
interesting melancholy she had expected in Mr. Brudenall before
the opportunity was lost in the universal smiling and polite
introductions of a party merging together; and she could only
note he had an unassuming and slightly diffident manner but
seemed very willing to make all the acquaintance and fall in with
every plan his more forceful friend had in mind for them.
"As you see, we are taking the earliest opportunity to benefit
from your famous sea breezes," said Sidney Parker, addressing
Sir Edward with easy civility. "And where would you suggest we
now walk to enjoy them?"
Sir Edward immediately waved his hand towards the cliffs
above the cove which sheltered the bathing machines.
"That is undoubtedly the most favoured walk for all new-
comers to Sanditon, sir. The prospect from the headland is
certainly the most highly favoured situation for observing the
beauty and diversity of the surrounding scenery and the limitless
expanses of the ocean in all its sublimity."
--Well, that is quite a long climb to those cliffs, Miss Heywood,"
said Sidney, smiling and offering his arm to Charlotte. "Perhaps
you and Miss Brereton will be glad of more assistance.
"No, no, you have quite mistaken me, sir," cried Sir Edward,
slightly disconcerted by this very natural misunderstanding. "My
companions and I are, in fact, taking the opposite direction. As
you will observe, the colour is already distinctly wrought upon
their cheeks and speaks eloquently of their fatigue, as those im-
mortal lines of Cowper bring so vividly before us -- "
"perhaps you mean Donne?" suggested Sidney, one of his
mobile eyebrows seeming to rise up of its own accord. "Though
I am not sure he was referring to fatigue --
<1Her Pure and eloquent blood>1
<1Spake in her cheeks and so distinctly wrought>1
<1That one might almost say her body thought.">1
"Exactly, sir. They have already been indulging in a contest
with the sea's stimulating effects this morning and would by no
means be equal to such energetic exercise as l have been recom-
mending to you. We intend to make only a gentle promenade
along the shore where I will show my fair companions over a small
project of mine, a simple cottage orne. Our little excursion
would only bore yourself and Mr. Brudenall."
Here Charlotte, seeing a convenient opening, interrupted with
the suggestion which, however unwelcome to Sir Edward, might
prove acceptable to Sidney parker. A solitary climb along the
cliffs was not, after all, the most ideal way of introducing his
dispirited friend to Sanditon.
"Indeed, Sir Edward, it might be very useful for you to hear
their opinions on your cottage as well as ours," she said eagerly.
"And I am sure Mr. Parker must know a great deal about
architecture."
"Miss Heywood does me too much honour, was Sidney's
answer, with a bow of mock gravity. "However, we shall cer-
tainly be delighted to accompany you."
This prompt acceptance of an invitation he had never issued
took Sir Edward completely unawares; but as Sidney parker and
Henry Bmdenall both immediately turned in the direction he
had been indicating as their proposed route, and Charlotte and
Miss Brereton fell into step beside them, there was very little he
could do beyond looking extremely annoyed and turning to follow
them.
Somewhat surprised by the ease she had encountered in ma-
nipulating the company, Charlotte was even more pleased by
the grouping which developed quite naturally in its passage along
the beach. Sidney Parker devoted his attention exclusively to Sir
Edward, pausing so frequently to comment on the new buildings
and admire the surrounding scenery that their progress was neces-
sarily slowed down a good deal; while Mr. Brudenall belied his
languid appearance by proving a fast walker and marched silently
on ahead with Miss Brereton, who, as his companion at the outset
had little alternative but to be separated from the others by an
ever-widening gap. Every now and then, when Sir Edward looked
towards these retreating figures, his good manners underwent a
severe test and he tried to increase their own speed. But Sidney
Parker soon slowed them down again.
You must tell me more of your cottage ornd, Sir Edward," he
said encouragingly. "I am not well acquainted with the style but
have heard it spoken of as a most original one.'
And as Sir Edward was a boundless talker, by the time they
were half way along the beach, he was expounding on gables and
barge-boarding, fancy leading, curved canopies and wrought-
iron balustrades; and when they arrived at the far end, where Miss
Brereton and Mr. Brudenall stood composedly waiting for them,
he had become so engrossed in his subject that he almost ignored
them.
"You will see, you will see," he cried, rushing on ahead. "My cot-
tage is tucked away just beyond the stream there -- over that arbo-
rescent cliff. I will proceed directly in advance to effect ingress.
You cannot fail to behold it when you attain the crest -- <1and having>1
<1climbed the steep-up heavenly hill-->1 as the poet says -- "
Sir Edward went bounding across the shingle and vanished up
a steep path overhung with bushes and creepers.
"Shakespeare, I imagine," said Sidney parker. "But is our
friend ever precise in these matters? I never in my life came
across a man so intent on using nonsensical words and inap-
propriate quotations. Does he always talk like thao"
Although she agreed with this swift verdict on Sir Edward,
Charlotte was mainly struck by the rashness with which it had
been uttered. Mr. Sidney parker was a young man who carried
frankness a great deal too far, in her opinion; and she looked
quickly towards Miss Brereton to discover if this latest piece of
indiscretion had been overheard. Fortunately, both she and Mr.
Brudenall, though only a few yards distant, were engaged in quiet
conversation themselves; and their attention being directed at that
very moment to the course of the stream, they moved off to
examine it more closely from the bank.
"Sir Edward has not perhaps a very strong understanding," she
replied, lowering her voice with a significant glance after them.
"But he is generally considered a very fine young man among his
acquaintance in Sanditon."
"Oh? A suitor of Miss Brereton's, is he?" demanded Sidney,
with an instant display of interest. "But surely she does not
return his regard? Let us find a nice place to sit down here in the
sun and discuss all these curious particulars."
There was no denying he had penetration; but he was so quick
to pursue the slightest hint that Charlotte felt she might very
soon find her tongue outrunning wisdom.
"Had we not best be starting after Sir Edward? I am sure he
is expecting us to follow him immediately."
"I am sure he is too, but I feel Sir Edward's company is best
partaken of sparingly, in small doses -- say at half-hour inter-
vals." He inspected an overturned fishing boat, carefully tested
the dried paint and moved along to allow her the most comfortable
position by the prow. "No rust, no dirt, quite dry, I assure you,"
he said, patting the white boards invitingly; and with a mixture of
gaiety and authority peculiar to himself he persuaded Charlotte
to join him, settled her to his own satisfaction and leaned against
the side of the boat as though prepared for a long and confidential
exchange.
"Well, where shall we begin? With Sir Edward? Now, Miss
Heywood, does not your own observation of his character make
you sometimes doubt whether he merits all this universal ap-
probation?"
"On such a brief acquaintance as I have had, it would be
difficult to judge his character at all," replied Charlotte cautiously.
"Manners are all that can safely be decided and Sir Edward's are
generally accounted to be pleasing -- "
"So are Miss Heywood's," agreed Sidney, shaking his head at
her in disappointment. "Very pleasing indeed. I can see she is
quite determined to make no adverse comment whatsoever on
anyone in Sanditon. Tell me, do you never relax from this very
correct behaviour? "
"I do not pretend people in general are without imperfections,"
Charlotte said stiffly. "All I am saying is that goodness and
foolishness are so often combined to such an extent that it is
sometimes impossible to separate them on a short acquaintance."
"Then you have perceived goodness as well as foolishness in
Sir Edward?"
"I was speaking of people in general."
"Surely you have realised by now, Miss Heywood, that is a
thing I never do if I can avoid io" he reproved her. "people
vary so much that I find it both dull and pointless to discuss them
except as individuals. So having now assumed -- from your
scrupulous reluctance to discuss them -- that your views on Sir
Edward are the same as mine, let us pass on to Miss Brereton
who, I must confess, interests me a great deal more." And he
paused expectantly.
'I am not very well acquainted with Miss Brereton either." The
reply seemed inadequate even to her; and not wishing to be
considered similarly ungenerous with her praise in this direction,
she added quickly, "She is certainly a most elegant young
woman -- and very beautiful -- "
"Which I have, of course, seen for myself with no trouble at
all," said Sidney with a smile. "But what I should like to know
is why you think the lovely Miss Brereton should be unwise enough
to encourage the foolish Sir Edward?"
This particular question had privately puzzled Charlotte the
first time she had observed Sir Edward and Miss Brereton
together. She already found it natural for Sidney parker to be
asking it publicly on his first meeting with them; but doubting
her right to betray the vague and accumulated suspicions she
had formed on each subsequent encounter with them -- indeed
discovering she was quite unable to sum them up to herself now
with any coherence -- she said only, and with perfect honesty,
"I am afraid I do not at all know the answer to that."
"But all the same you disapprove of such an attachment and
disliked being forced into chaperoning them while they inspected
Sir Edward's cottage?"
His astuteness was beginning to alarm Charlotte; and having at
last succeeded in shaking her composure, he laughed triumphantly
at the apprehensive look which confirmed this deduction of his-
"Come now, it was not so difficult to guess, after all. Sir
Edward's obvious displeasure was in far too great a contrast to
<1your>1 pressing invitation to join the party.'
"I did not have to press very hard," she said, defending herself
with some resentment. "And you might also give me a little
credit for considering yourself and Mr. Brudenall. You <1said>1
you wanted him to be constantly mixing with new people."
"Oh yes. I was indeed grateful for your invitation," Sidney
admitted handsomely. "I am quite as anxious to escape playing
nursemaid to Henry as you could be over playing chaperone to
Miss Brereton." And he looked across to where his friend stood
in rather poetic fashion, frowning down at the waters of the
stream. "poor old Henry has never been very articulate -- a
romantic rather than a practical fellow, I am afraid; but according
to Reginald the journey down from London was one long moody
silence -- glaring abstractedly at nothing, never hearing a qttes-
tion, thoroughly dismal the whole way. Reginald freely con-
fessed to me another hour of it would have been more than he
could himself endure; so he took refuge in Brighton as fast as he
could. Well, I hope I may prove a stouter friend to the af-
flicted; but I have every intention of accepting any outside help
I am offered."
"You may find outsiders can help him most," said Charlotte,
observing that Mr. Brudenall was now listening with a show of
attention to something Miss Brereton had said. "With his
friends he might be excused occasional moods of depression;
with strangers, he must make more effort to appear normal."
"Particularly with beautiful young women," agreed Sidney,
watching Miss Brereton with approval himself. "I have been
thinking much the same thing. Henry <1is a>1 great favourite among
your sex -- always full of sentiment but never expressing any of
it very clearly. Women seem to enjoy exerting themselves
trying to understand that sort of vagueness; and Henry is usually
grateful enough to be agreeable to them in return. I have not
the slightest doubt he and Miss Brereton are very well pleased
wirh each other -- if they were not, they could easily have joined
us long ago." He gave Charlotte a sideways glance. "However,
perhaps you yourself would like to accept the role I am allotting
to Miss Brereton?"
But this Charlotte firmly declined. She suspected that Sidney
would not be averse to exchanging her company for Miss Brere-
ton's, but preferred to avoid the exertion of consoling Mr.
Brudenall by herself.
"I see no reason to allot such a role to anybody in particular.
Surely your purposes will be just as well served if you contrive to
make him one of a sociable group? Why should anyone be
expected to deal with him single-handed? "
She had the greatest compassion for Mr. Brudenall but no wish
to be responsible for his problems; and before Sidney parker
could involve her in them further, she moved away from the boat
and again suggested they should all follow Sir Edward together.
However, instead of complying, he began to look about him
-- at the other boats drawn up on the shore, the fishermen's
cottages nearby with their nets spread out in the sun to dry, and
the stream, which at this point appeared to come to an end at a
high ridge of pebbles and to have no visible communication
with the sea. In no haste at all to move their party on, Sidney
tried to decide how the stream found its way underground
between the stones; and after examining and exclaiming over this
natural phenomenon, he appealed to Miss Brereton for enlighten-
ment.
"It is called a chesil. I have just been explaining to Mr.
Brudenall what I can understand of it myself," she said gravely.
"Yes, we have been deeply engaged in trying to solve that riddle,"
Mr. Brudenall agreed. "and have only concluded it must be a
poor stream to creep between pebbles instead of driving them
left and right in front of it."
"Have you indeed? Yes, a very poor stream, I grant you,"
Sidney decided after contemplating it himself quite earnestly
for some time. "A really robust one would be bound to open up
a good straight passage for itself. You think so, I am sure, Miss
Brereton?"
Charlotte, who was not very interested in the stream, wandered
out on to the pebble ridge without seeing anything remarkable
in that either. The other three, remaining where she had left
them, continued to stare down at the water and its shallow ripples
among the shingle.
"The season of the year may have something to do with it,"
Miss Brereton said, after rather a long pause. "I believe in
<1some>1 months the stream can be more direct -- or at any rate less
encumbered." She hesitated again. "In winter for instance."
Surprised that she had taken so long in making so commonpIace
a reply, Charlotte glanced back at them to see a self-conscious
look and a slight blush on Miss Brereton's face; and Sidney
Parker regarding her with a degree of interest which probably
accounted for it. There was no reason why he should not look
so intently at Miss Brereton, Charlotte told herself sensibly. He
had already owned that he thought her a very beautiful girl and
the slight air of mystery and reserve added to her attractions.
But nevertheless Charlotte sighed over her own fate in being
always outshone in such company. Such desultory comments
from <1her>1 on a meandering stream could never have held two
young men waiting so attentively for her to think them out.
"Ah, but these encumbrances do not appear so very great to
me," cried Sidney, throwing a few more pebbles into the water.
"Little stones like these can surely be ignored."
"There are rather more of them than you think," Mr. Brudenall
said gloomily. And Charlotte's attention being immediately
directed to him, she could not but pity the oppression of spirits
she imagined he must constantly be struggling to overcome.
"Nature often takes a very long time to work decisive changes,"
she said reflectively. "Haste is too much to expect from it on
these occasions."
Fortunately, Sidney Parker at last withdrew his fascinated gaze
from Miss Brereton, caught sight of his friend and immediately
began talking in a more animated style. The words had little
importance in themselves but the tone was bracing and optimistic.
Winter, he observed, was a long time ahead and they could hardly
stand watching the stream till then; nor was there much point in
discussing it if they could come to no better conclusions than that.
While honouring Sidney's real good nature in assisting his
friend at this delicate time, Charlotte did not envy him his task;
and she was thankful to observe that his chatter and determina-
tion to encourage his friend produced a gradual change on the
present occasion.
Sir Edward now reappeared at the top of the hill, signalling
to them impatiently; and they dutifully climbed up to him, skirted
a group of trees and found themselves confronted by a small
house of decided oddity, a cottage in size but a mansion in details.
lt had pointed Gothic windows, a double coach-house, wrought-
iron verandah posts, lacy barge-boards of complex design and, to
cap all this, a heavy and ornamental thatch. The result was a
play-house, a pretence house, in which prospective tenants
might perhaps believe themselves country people living in a
kind of Arcadia.
Mr. Brudenall, Miss Brereton and Charlotte, having regarded
it with awed astonishment, seemed equally doubtful what they
could say about it; but Sidney Parker was more certain of his
ground, both in praising the house and pleasing its owner.
"perfect. Quite perfect of its genre," he said, standing well
back in the minute carriage drive and running his eye over the
proliferating detail. "You have achieved the perfect illusion of
rustic simplicity -- for I take it the effect you are actually aiming
at is far from rustic and anything but simple?"
"Exactly, sir. You have it precisely," cried Sir Edward, highly
delighted. "My aim throughout has been to radiate rurality,
There are many who think they wish to escape from stilted and
stately mansions to the homeliness of low ceilings and the intimacy
of hole-and-corner rooms; but those who seek rustic peace do
not always comprehend the drawbacks which appertain to the
normal, genuine country cottage. Now in <1my>1 cottage, they can
be snug without such irritations. It also epitomises a certain
seaside theme, do you not agree?
Sidney Parker said that he did. And by agreeing a great many
more times and interposing a flattering observation whenever
Sir Edward paused and seemed to expect one, he managed to
pilot them through a complete inspection of the house without
anyone else being put to the inconvenience of making an un-
toward remark.
Miss Brereton and Mr. Brudenall seemed content to wander
from room to room without taking part in the discussion at all.
And Charllotte, very relieved to be able to follow their example,
wondered if they were as ignorant as she was over Sir Edward s
actual aim -- till it began to dawn on her that not even Sidney
Parker had the remotest idea of there being any consistent
overall plan in the building of this house.
Attending most carefully to their discussion herself, and hearing
the solemn absurd nonsense Sir Edward talked as he tried to
justify each separate feature, she began to suspect that his mind,
when designing his cottage, was as muddled as it appeared to be
on most other subjects; and Sidney, nimbly seizing the ad-
vantage and adopting the same principle, was merely replying
with a similar amount of nonsense. After an hour, however, he
felt he had earned another rest; and although Sir Edward, after
looking up his cottage, was quite ready to go on discussing it,
Sidney had no intention of humouring him further.
They chose a different route back down the hill, leaving the sea
behind them and reaching the stream, where a stone bridge
spanned it, taking the main road across to the toll-gate.
"A turret now -- did you ever consider adding thao" Sidney
was idly suggesting when he suddenly recognised their exact
position. "Ah," he said, brightening considerably. "I seem to
remember Denham park lies a short distance along this turnpike
road, does it noo Well, much as I am enjoying our discussion,
I shall not press you to be continuing out of your way, Sir Edward.
No, no, not at all," with his most civil bow, "how much time you
have already given up to us today] We would not consider such
a sacrifice for one minute. Miss Brereton and Miss Heywood
are tired out by now, I dare say, and we will see them back to
Trafalgar House. Directly on our own route. Not the slightest
trouble, I assure you."
And despite all protests, he firmly directed the party across
the bridge, leaving a disconsolate Sir Edward standing by the
toll-gate, vaguely aware that he had just encountered someone
a great deal more expert in getting his own way than he was
himself. He frowned; and watching Miss Brereton being led
away from him, tried to decide how much interference in his own
plans he could expect from this new rival.
CHAPTER17
THOUGH VERY WILLING to assume guidance over their party,
Sidney Parker showed no inclination at all to conduct it back to
Trafalgar House directly. Once clear of the bridge, he began
inspecting paths branching off the main road; and finally selecting
one to the right, he struck off across a broad meadow with the
considerate remark that it should be dry enough for ladies under-
foot but without consulting them whether it was in the direction
they wished to go.
"Should we not perhaps have turned left towards the sea?"
suggested Charlotte, when they were half-way across the expanse
of grass without anyone else having raised an objection. "Or
even continued along the road? l am almost certain this path
must lead inland to old Sanditon."
"I dare say it does," agreed Sidney. "Had you any other object
in mind for our walk?"
"None. I only thought we had already had our walk."
"Ambling along a beach and standing about in a cottage?"
protested Sidney. "Unless you and Miss Brereton are worn out by
such dawdling, I propose we now take some exercise."
"It must be two o'clock at least," she said doubtfully, looking
towards Miss Brereton for support.
"Well, it certainly could not be three," Sidney argued, "so we
have a clear two hours in hand for exploring old Sanditon."
Two hours]" Charlotte had condemned Sir Edward's per-
sistence in suggesting an expedition that required only one, and
she was certain Miss Brereton must feel all the inconsistency
over such a change of plan. But Miss Brereton was as reticent
and circumspect now as she had been then and gave Charlotte no
indication of her real opinion; it was Mr. Brudenall who finally
decided the matter, by coughing and saying,
"I own I should very much like to examine a real seaside village
before it is changed and developed to fit in with the fashionable
new pattern."
For Sidney, this was encouragement enough. His friend's
wishes must be paramount; and taking it for granted that the rest
of the opposition was negligible, he walked on down the path.
"Oh, you will find old Sanditon looks permanent enough," he
said, talking as he went. "Much too neat a little place to leave
room for improvements -- what do you think, Miss Brereton?
A cosy little village; there is something so cheerful about its air
-- do you not agree?" turning towards her and smiling slightly,
"And l am persuaded you must wish to take advantage of this
spell of fine weather. Are <1you>1 not in favour of remaining out
of doors as long as possible?"
They reached the edge of the meadow as he addressed these
questions to her and it was natural they should enter the woodland
on the other side of it together. The path here was not wide
enough to admit a party of four walking abreast, and Charlotte,
finding she had been relegated to the rear with Henry Brudenall,
tried to decide the exact point when this grouping had become
inevitable and whether Sidney had effected it on purpose. She
had more than a suspicion that he was eager to seize an opportu-
nity of becoming better acquainted with the beautiful Clara. He
walked briskly on ahead, talking without pause as though making
a special effort to be agreeable to his companion. Henry
Brudenall, on the other hand, made no effort at all. He strode
along moodily switching at bushes with a stick he had picked up,
looking so abstracted that Charlotte readily forgave his incivility
and merely pitied his affliction.
Twice he ignored remarks she made: the restful shade of summer
trees and the pleasure of bird-song, both absent from the previous
walk along the sands, were perhaps trite to comment on in them-
selves but reasonable enough, Charlotte felt, to show her own
willingness for conversation.
And once, on the only marshy patch of the entire woodland
path, he trampled through so heedlessly that the hem of her gown
was liberally splattered with mud. If Mr. Brudenall was so
preoccupied with his own problems that he failed to notice even
this discourtesy, Charlotte decided she could be forgiven for
lapsing into silence. And having stopped wondering how to
embark on any sort of conversation with him herself, she could
only marvel that Miss Brereton had managed it for over an hour
without apparent strain. Beyond glancing at him nervously when-
ever the pathway produced any sort of obstacle, she disregarded
him completely and allowed him to enjoy his misery in peace.
Fxercise had been Sidney's avowed excuse for making this
detour and he was setting a quick pace on ahead. Charlotte and
her partner were also walking quite fast, though never sufficiently
in reach of the others to overhear their conversation. They kept
them well in sight, however; and with very little else to divert her,
Charlotte found herself observing them both very intently and
becoming extremely curious cver what they were discussing so
earnestly. That Clara herself should be grave and serious did not
surprise her in the least; that she .appeared to be doing most of
the talking surprised her a good deal; but that Sidney's profile,
so repeatedly turned towards his companion, should be equally
solemn and unsmiling was the most difficult to explain of all.



























































































As she watched him holding back overhanging branches from
Miss Brereton's path, now and then bending attentively towards
her to catch something else she had said, she could not help
feeling a small pang of something which could only be described
as jealousy.
This was not an emotion Charlotte normally experienced] and
she tried to occupy her mind in yet another direction by reasoning
herself into a proper understanding of so extraordinary a symp-
tom: Clara's beauty she had always acknowledged, and with the
warmest admiration untinged by any suspicion of envy. Sidney
parker was a worthy admirer for such a perfect heroine, so the
spectacle of them enjoying an earnest tete-a-tete should have
been particularly satisfying to any unprejudiced observer.
Arriving at this very logical conclusion, Charlotte was then
forced to admit, in common honesty, that she was at present far
from an unprejudiced observer. She was both a reluctant and a
resentful one. Any prospect of her own pleasure in this walk
now seemed most unlikely] and she would gladly have exchanged
a silent Henry Brudenall for an articulate Sidney Parker. But
that surely was no foundation for jealousy? Dissatisfaction yes,
assuredly. She felt justified in a feeling of general ill-usage;
and she was still busily reasoning away the more disturbing
emotion of jealousy into the purely transient sensations of dis-
satisfaction and disappointment, when they emerged from the
wood.
Sidney appeared quite willing to keep their party intact for
the moment and his own flow of spirits and ready chat were
sufficient to lend conviviality to the entire group. Charlotte was
thoughtful, and neither of the others replied to him with any
marked enthusiasm, but he addressed his remarks impartially
to all with a persistent good humour which she could not but
admire.
"Now is this your idea of a genuine seaside village, Henry?"
he asked as they reached the outskirts and stepped from worn
track on to cobbles. "Here is old Sanditon proving a point I
have often made to my brother. Here the sea is not only invis-
ible -- even its sound and smell are shut off in all but the worst of
weathers. Sea views, I maintain, are only for urban folk who
never experience its menace. The true sailor prefers to be land-
looked rather than face the ocean."
"I would certainly agree with that," replied Mr. Brudenall.
"The sea is an old enemy of his. Why should he wish to gaze on
io I can also understand that he would prefer to build his house
Iike a ship. All of these, waving his hand along the street,
"look as snug and cramped and battened down as any brigan-
tine."
Charlotte had never heard him speak so normally before. She
had begun to think he was incapable of talking pleasantly, of
taking any interest in his surroundings and making sensible,
dispassionate comments on them. She stared at him. But neither
Sidney nor Miss Brereton seemed to find this present reasonable
conduct any odder than his previous dejection.
"Yes, one can feel this is a village which has grown naturally
over the centuries; that this has always been peopled by real
sea-farers, said Miss Brereton, continuing the conversation with-
out apparent effort,
They wandered on through the streets of the old village, narrow
and winding against wind and storm, with their thick-walled
haphazardly built cottages in complete antithesis to Mr. Parker's
modern rules of design, deportment and situation. Even such
inland farming towns as Charlotte knew were dependent on busy
market days and could never have afforded to cramp themselves
in the confined space of old Sanditon. She also noticed the
houses boasted tidy shrubs in iron-bound barrels instead of
gardens, brass ships' bells instead of door-knockers, more weather
vanes on their rooves and more shutters at their windows than
the usual village.
To Charlotte's surprise, Sidney fell into step beside her as they
walked on down the street and persisted in addressing himself so
pointedly in her direction as to make her suspect he was now in-
tent on retaining <1her>1 as his companion. She could hardly under-
stand this conduct and warily eluded several attempts to detach
her from the others.
On leaving the village behind, however, they faced quite a steep
walk up the hill before crossing the down towards the new build-
ings; and though they were following the main road again and
there was not the slightest need for any division into walking
pairs, Sidney had soon effected it again. But this time Charlotte
decided to let him know she realised what he was about; and when
they reached the first outcrop of rocks on their ascent, she
remarked drily,
"Surely we can now dispense with all these pauses to admire the
scenery, the birds and the smoke curling up from chimneys? I
cannot think we are any longer in danger of catching them up."
"Quite true," agreed Sidney, as ready to laugh at himself as at
others. "I had just thought out a masterly halt to enjoy this fresh
southerly breeze and the approaching tang of salt air now coming
to us from over the hill. I believe I have neglected the wind so
far, have I noo But I am willing to renounce it if you prefer to
get on faster."
Rather disconcerted by this brazen admission, Charlotte said
flatly, "Thank you, I do prefer it," and stalked on up the hill.
"How humiliating to discover my stage directions are not
being appreciated," he said, keeping pace with her. "You could
at least have pretended you were pleased by my singling you out
to walk with. It is more natural for a young lady to be flattered
into overlooking the actual steps by which such matters are
arranged."
"But I see no necessity for arranging anything at all, replied
Charlotte. Mr. Brudenall is much less abstracted and more
polite when we are all together in the same group. He is then
forced to pay some slight attention to the general conversation
instead of tramping about lunging at nettle heads with a stick."
Sidney was much amused by this character sketch of his
friend.
"Did you find him so impossible on your walk through the
woods?"
"I made no headway at all," she admitted. "I suppose there
must be some way of communicating with him if one perseveres
long enough," she added charitably, "but he never replied to any
of <1my>1 remarks."
He laughed outright at this.
"Is he also responsible for all that mud on your gown?"
"Oh, quite unintentionally, I am sure," said Charlotte, glancing
down at her ruined hem. "They <1are>1 most remarkable splashes,
l agree. Too large, you would think, for anyone to ignore; but
Mr. Brudenall never even noticed them."
"Oh dear. I hope they will wash ouo"
"Of course they will wash out," she said with some asperity.
"My gown is perfectly ordinary cambric."
"I am very relieved to hear it. But I was <1almost>1 confident it
must be so, I was sure you would never commit the folly of
wearing impractical clothes. Fragile materials -- such as taffeta
-- should be kept strictly for the evening, do you not agree? But
some muslins are not very sensible for walking either -- inclined
as they are to snag and fray."
Charlotte had no intention of discussing the various merits of
female clothing with Sidney; but she was beginning to realise he
was capable of evading any issue unless confronted with it quite
bluntly. She returned a few commonplace replies, waiting till he
had exhausted his own knowledge of the subject, and then took
advantage of the first pause to say resolutely,
"If you have no objection, I should now like to hear your
reasons for dividing up our party so often. Why do you feel it
is necessary to direct everyone about in this way?"
"Why do <1you>1 feel it is necessary to study them?" said Sidney,
smiling. "I suppose we each of us have our own methods of
dealing with others -- and our own special talents to exercise
while enjoying their company. I direct. You observe. I have a
certain sympathy with your point of view, you see. In its way,
close observation of one's fellow men must be a most rewarding
pastime -- provided one fully understands everything one ob-
serves. So, if you tell me what you noticed during the course of
our walk today, I will endeavour to explain my reasons for
directing it along certain lines. Come, since we are having so
free a discussion, let us go over all the odd points which may have
puzzled you."
With such an invitation, Charlotte very nearly asked the ques-
tions which had been puzzling her most: What private under-
standing did he have with Clara Brereton? And to what extent
were they already acquainted? But she hesitated; and finding
herself unequal to such frank and personal enquiries, approached
the same subject by a more roundabout route.
"I did find it slightly odd," she said slowly, "that you were
holding such an earnest -- no, perhaps that is inaccurate -- such
a very serious discussion with Miss Brereton, as you walked
through the wood."
"Ah yes," agreed Sidney. "But surely you could guess what l
was doing? You see, I decided to take her fully into my con-
fidence over Henry's situation. I am sorry to have left you alone
with him all that time. But indeed I had to make an opportunity
-- I felt I must have some private conversation with Miss Brere-
ton and explain how very tactfully one must treat Henry at the
moment."
No, I must admit <1that>1 had not occurred to me. After your
statement yesterday that Mr. Brudenall's secret should go no
farther than your own family, I naturally did not expect you
would be divulging it to the first outsider you met."
"But Miss Brereton is such a very charming girl -- such a warm,
sympathetic person -- I was sure she would react entirely the
way l hoped. She immediately offered her help in consoling and
cheering him. And that," he added blandly, "is why I have
divided up our party again now. I have a great deal of faith
in <1her>1 cooperation." He looked on ahead to where Miss Brereton
was now deep in gentle converse with his friend. "It shows a
very good impulse in her nature that <1she>1 is willing to take trouble
with Henry."
Charlotte felt this as a personal criticism, blushed, hastily
swallowed a rather ill-judged retort, and again felt the stirrings
of that strange emotion, jealousy.
"We do not all have the talent for drawing people out. par-
ticularly those in distress," Sidney continued in a solemn but
rather too plausible manner she recognized from some of his
earlier speeches that day in Sir Edward's cottage. "I would be
the first to admit my own failure in this direction. I can some-
times cheer but never console -- and cheerfulness alone has a very
limited effect in these cases. There are just a few gifted with the
engaging mildness of disposition to know exactly how to deal
with the afflicted. And <1that>1 appears to be Miss Brereton's great
talent."
Charlotte thought there was more than an element of mischief
in this pompous little homily. She glanced quickly at him, and
observing the trace of a smile, decided he was also exercising his
own special talent for diverting her from the subject.
"l also observed during your walk through the woods," she
said, returning to what she considered the main issue, "that
Miss Brereton was doing a lot of talking too.
"She was telling me of a very similar case to Henry's which had
occurred in her own family. That of course would account for
the genuine interest she has shown. Sympathy usually has a
foundation of -- ah -- common experience. Do you not find
it so?"
"I know nothing of the matter at all," said Charlotte coolIy.
"Broken hearts, unrequited love and inconsolable misery are
subjects which, most fortunately, I have only ever read about in
books." She was suddenly conscious that she was in danger of
sounding both peevish and ill-natured and of the very bad im-
pression she must be creating.
But Sidney only laughed, agreed she was indeed fortunate and
continued to elaborate on Miss Brereton's superior understanding
-- provocation so highly resented by Charlotte that she made no
attempt to reply, resolving to allow him all his own way for the
rest of their walk.
Sidney, who appeared to be unaware of either provocation or
resentment, and could carry any conversation quite unaided,
remained undeterred by her silence; but as Charlotte was
usually more concerned with the impression a person created on
her than the impression she might be giving to him, she found this
new state of affairs most confusing; and she was uneasily aware
of an odd distortion creeping somewhere into her field of vision.
Sidney parker, she decided, was as meddlesome as his sister
Diana. He might justify his interference and delude himself into
thinking he was directing his friend about for his own good, but
there was an officious streak of vanity in all this which she could
not like. He might believe he was rendering Henry Brudenall a
service by manipulating and regulating his relations with everyone
he met into a tactful, considerate pattern; but to her there was
something both repugnant and improper in trying to modify the
course of other people's lives. She suspected that Sidney had
been doing this for years -- making all his friends behave in the
way he directed them -- till it had become a type of disease with
him.
Like all the parkers, he had a charitable heart and many
amiable feelings; but he allowed himself to be misguided by an
overweening conceit into believing he could manage everyone's
affairs better than they could themselves. Only his high spirits,
his charm of manner and his ready address saved him from being
as ridiculous as his sister.
But even as she reached this conclusion and made up her mind
to disapprove of him, Charlotte could admit the success of his
efforts to entertain her on this walk. She was very conscious
that Sidney continually exerted himself to please and a little
ashamed of her own failure to do likewise.
CHAPTER l8
MODERN SANDITON possessed no church of its own. On Sun-
days, Mr. parker had his horses put to for the drive to the parish
church of old Sanditon. It was Lady Denham's proud boast
that she always walked to church. But the Parkers knew she
only liked to walk downhill, to settle herself in the manor house
pew in good time for the service, and expected to be offered a
place in their carriage every Sunday for the return journey uphill.
The following morning there was a variation in this weekly
custom. Sidney parker and Henry Brudenall made their public
debut; and the turned heads and stifled whispers which greeted
their appearance in church were sufficient indication of the
general curiosity aroused.
In front of her, Charlotte saw Miss Denham craning her neck,
touching her brother on the arm and looking a question. He
gave one significant nod before returning to his prayer book as
though they had already discussed these newcomers at some
length. She could also hear the restless murmuring which had
interrupted the Miss Beauforts devotions behind her. And
after the service there was more haste than usual for all to quit
their pews and greet their friends in the sunshine outside.
It was, however, Lady Denham's privilege to lead the way down
the aisle, with Miss Brereton a few paces behind her. In defiance
of custom, Sidney parker and his friend slipped out of their rear
pew to join them; and when the rest of the congregation gained
the porch, they were only in time to see Sidney handing the ladies
into his carriage, taking over the reins from his groom, and
driving them off in great style.
Mr. Parker was the first to recover from his surprise at the
speed with which all this had been accomplished.
"Well, upon my word, my brother has stolen a march on us,
eh, Sir Edward?" he said jovially. "If we have to compete with
these town tricks of his, we shall soon find ourselves with no
ladies to squire about in Sanditon at all. Barely here the one day
and already he deprives me of my sole act of gallantry in the
week]"
Charlotte thought Sir Edward's reply to this pleasantry a trifle
forced; and the haste with which he bundled his sister into their
own gig confirmed her suspicion that he was in no state of temper
to linger exchanging courtesies. Miss Denham scarcely had time
to enquire of Mrs. parker which of the strangers was her brother-
in-law, and to remark on the odd circumstance that he should be
the only member of the parker family as yet unknown to her.
The Miss Beauforts were also disappointed at being cheated
of an early introduction; and they were certainly no longer con-
tent to remain on their balcony now these two personable young
men were to be perceived strolling about admiring the Sanditon
views. Indeed, they felt a definite obligation to improve the
landscape for them immediately by dotting graceful feminine
silhouettes wherever they should be most visible.
The very nett day Miss Letitia carried her easel out of doors
and began moving it from sand to shingle, from hill to Terrace
with tireless and unselfish activity. No concern for completing
her own sketches interfered with her sense of duty to adorn what-
ever vista might require her presence.
Miss Beaufort would have found her harp more of an impedi-
ment, but she maganimously abandoned it and devoted herself
to making the district more select by a parade of what she
considered the very latest in seaside fashions. She had recently
finished contriving a remarkable headgear -- a pattern of which
had been sent by her particular friend, Miss Nicholls. This
consisted of a Dunstable straw bonnet over a laced cap which
boasted a detachable green silk eye-shade stiffened with wire.
Miss Nicholls assured her this "seaside bonnet" was all the rage in
Ramsgate -- she believed it had even originated in Brighton --
and although principally designed to protect the eyes from the
sun and the hair from the wind, it had the further advantage of
framing the face most becomingly.
When seen at close quarters, it was a most fetching creation;
but unfortunately Sidney parker and Henry Brudenall remained
at a distance and could only observe a stylish and ubiquitous
figure promenading about in every variety of material which
could be depended upon to billow attractively in the slightest
breeze.
All these sacrifices in the cause of the Sanditon scenery might
have had little effect had the Miss Beauforts not luckily recol-
lected being introduced to Miss Heywood on their first arrival.
Her clothes being neat and tidy rather than fashionable and
her social standing somewhat obscure, they had proceeded to
ignore her -- beyond an occasional condescending nod from Miss
Beaufort and one half-smile from Miss Letitia on the balcony
(mainly to improve the profile she was presenting at the time to
Arthur parker). They had never, in fact, spoken to her.
But after twice observing Charlotte being greeted by these
interesting young men, they rapidly decided her company was
what they had always wanted and only a very natural diffidence
had deterred them from approaching her. Their scruples and
shyness being now overcome, they waylaid her on her next visit
to the library. Charlotte was invited to step into the drawing
room of the corner house to inspect Miss Letitia's unfinished
sketches, to listen to the neglected harp and to satisfy the curi-
osity of both sisters by replying to enquiries as indirect and
artless as they could devise.
"We have been longing this age -- oh, quite aching, I assure
you, dear Miss Heywood -- for some chance of furthering our
acquaintance with you. We have been making the most delight-
ful schemes for days past. But there] We both have the greatest
horror of being thought <1forward>1 or <1pushing]>1 It is amazingly
difficult for us to get to know <1anybody at all.">1
"Sanditon is a most charming place, we find -- perhaps a little
thin of company. But more people are beginning to arrive now,
I dare say. The hotel seems to be filling up at all events ..."
"Oh] I am dotingly fond of Sanditon already in spite of it
being a little secluded," interrupted Miss Beaufort, feeling her
sister was being a shade premature. "My particular friend, Miss
Nicholls, a dear creature and most truly modish, tells me there is
far more going on in Ramsgate. <1There>1 one sees new faces
every day-- but <1here>1 the stranger is quite a rarity."
"Lord yes, I always say these small, retired places are infinitely
to be preferred to the bustling, popular resorts," agreed Miss
Letitia. "When one comes from a largish inland town, one longs
only for solitude in a seaside retreat. I must declare the view
from our balcony quite delights us. Not a soul to be seen on the
beach for hours at a time."
"Oh yes, we both rave about the peace -- about the generally
deserted air of Sanditon. Within a few days one knows virtually
every face in the district -- "
"Exactly. So I really could not help exclaiming to Lydia the
other morning when I saw -- nothing beyond the merest glimpse
really, you know -- <1two,>1 no less than <1two,>1 complete strangers."
"Ah] now you mention it, Letitia, I do remember them. They
seem to be putting up at the hotel -- some connection with the
Parkers I did overhear -- most genteel-looking young men, both
of them so excessively well-dressed."
"The sort of people, one would imagine, more likely to be
found patronising Brighton rather than Sanditon."
In this style they ran on, scarcely leaving time for Charlotte to
supply all the particulars they so eagerly sought. In the first pause
they allowed her she most willingly did so. She was more
diverted than deceived by the Miss Beauforts, and though
civilly responding to their overtures of friendship, held her own
reservations on the worth of this new acquaintance -- or even
on its chances of survival. She suspected that all attempts at
intimacy would cease abruptly once she had proved her useful-
ness to her new friends by bringing them to the newcomers'
notice.
Charlotte, however, had her own private reasons for enlarging
the circle of female companions available for the consolation of
Henry Brudenall. It had more than once crossed her mind that
Sidney parker's extravagant praise of Miss Brereton's talent for
dealing with his friend had been intended to goad <1her>1 into similar
efforts on his behalf. And as Sidney had reiterated many times
that he hoped their pleasant foursome would often be repeated,
the suspicion had also crossed her mind that she would frequently
find herself left coping with Mr. Brudenall while Sidney pursued
some sort of pleasant flirtation with Clara. Any addition which
might prevent such irritating divisions into awkward pairs would
be welcome to Charlotte.
And on the very first opportunity which presented itself -- as
she sat on the Terrace the following morning with the two young
men -- she smiled invitingly at the hovering Miss Beauforts and
handsomely performed the necessary introductions. She then had
great amusement in calculating whether the determination of the
Miss Beauforts to attach themselves to the party would prevail
over Sidney's patent but polite efforts to repulse them.
Although nothing had been regularly decided and no definite
appointment made, Charlotte knew Sidney was now awaiting the
arrival of Miss Brereton to suggest forming one of his select
walking parties. He had thrown out several hints, in Charlotte's
own hearing, that he and Mr. Brudenall would enjoy longer and
more energetic rambles and were not averse to Miss Brereton's
company whenever Lady Denham could spare it. The Terrace at
midday had certainly been mentioned as a convenient meeting
place on any convenient day. And Charlotte discovered, in her
case and on this particular day, Sidney had said enough about
a definite engagement to his sister-in-law for Mrs. Parker to post
her off with the utmost good will and a message for her to deliver
to Miss Diana en route. They had been sitting patiently on the
Terrace for ten minutes, waiting to discover whether Sidney's
hints would prove equally effective in respect to Miss Brereton.
The two friends had been bathing earlier that morning them-
selves, and scoffing at the notion that twenty minutes spent in
the sea could tire anyone under the age of forty, Sidney had just
proposed that the cliffs, which had been summarily rejected on
their first day, would be an ideal excursion path, when the Beau-
fort intrusion took place.
"Well] this Terrace is an amazingly delightful spot. I declare
l could sit here for hours," observed Miss Beaufort, very satisfied
with their new situation on it. "So thoughtful of Mr. Parker
and Lady Denham to provide these comfortable benches --
they turn it into quite the most charming outdoor lounge.
"Oh] yes, delightful. Lydia and I have the greatest dislike of
sitting indoors when the sun is beckoning us out every second.
"Sitting indoors] Oh heavens] What a shocking idea,
Letitia, when we have the Terrace on our very doorstep.
always say it is the perfect rendezvous for meeting with everyone
in Sanditon."
"If one sits here long enough, I dare say it is," said Sidney,
beginning to regret he had chosen such a public rendezvous
himself. "We are, in fact, on the point of setting out on a fairly
energetic walking expedition."
"Ah, such a heavenly day for a long, bracing walk," agreed Miss
Letitia. "I too have quite a horror of being confined in the one
spot for any length of time. Lydia and I have been exploring
Sanditon very thoroughly, I can tell you."
"Lord yes. There is absolutely nothing we enjoy better than
energetic walks]"
"And we know all the best paths along the shore line. What
direction were you intending to take today?"
"We were just discussing a plan for exploring the cliffs," ad-
mitted Sidney. "But I am afraid your shoes would not prove
stout enough for the strenuous work we have in mind. They
look entirely too fragile to be clambering over stones and rocks.
You would ruin them within five minutes; and Miss Beaufort's
beautiful gown would very likely be torn on the bushes."
"Oh] l never think about my clothes," cried Miss Beaufort,
flashing a coquettish glance from beneath her green eye-shade.
"No indeed, I must protest against any such idea. I always say
mere gowns are meant for one's comfort and convenience and
should never get in the way of one's pleasure. You cannot
conceive what a blessing it is that fashion now allows us poor
females shorter petticoats; at ankle length, you know, they were
positively hobbling on long walks. And as for a few little rents
and-stains, they do not matter greatly one way or the other.
But Letitia, perhaps <1you>1 should take Mr. parker's advice and slip
indoors to change those pink shoes. The nankin boots would
really be more suitable for a cliff walk."
  Miss Letitia, who had been congratulating herself on appropri-
ating the seat of honour between the two young men and was rather
reluctant to surrender it to her sister, protested that her kid shoes
were perfectly stout and she never thought about clothes either,
And they both emphatically decided finery was out of place in a
secluded retreat like Sanditon.
Charlotte, content to remain almost as silent as Henry Brudenall
and leave the effort of entertaining the Miss Beauforts to Sidney,
had managed nevertheless to convey her perfect approbation of
their plans to monopolise both young men on this and on any
subsequent occasion they might meet. They were not particularly
grateful to her for this. On the contrary, they wrote her down
as a sweet-natured but simple country nobody without shrewd
enough eyes in her head to distinguish a real beau from the
uncouth rustic squires to whom she had no doubt long been
accustomed.
Charlotte was seated -- very much by her own design but very
willing for the sisters to believe it was theirs -- next to Miss
Beaufort at the far end of the green bench; and as soon as Miss
Letitia managed to wrest Sidney's attention away from her sister,
Charlotte threw in a judicious word or two on the advantage of
large parties and quietly encouraged her to join in their excursions.
"Oh] Miss Heywood, I do agree with you indeed," cried Miss
Beaufort, highly delighted with her stupidity. "I always say
no scheme comes to anything without numbers to secure enough
variety. Do you not think that very true, Mr. Parker?" breaking
in on a speech of her sister's. "Miss Heywood has been saying
that one cannot have too large a party for any expedition. lt
provides amusement for all."
"Has she indeed? Miss Heywood"s amusement is, of course,
always a consideration with me."
"In a large party those who wish to talk are a decided asset,"
Charlotte remarked with a sturdy bid to let him know she held
to her own independent view on the matter. "And those who
wish to be silent may do so without risk of giving offence.
"True, very true," said Sidney. "And those who wish to
observe may do so to their heart's content. Everyone has
plenty of opportunity to behave exactly as he likes; except perhaps
those who pride themselves on their ability to organise. A large
party is much less manageable for <1them.>1 But there is no arguing
with Miss Heywood. She is always so full of common sense --
always has such a ready grasp of the essential point. A very
rational, cautious young woman] do you not find her so, Miss
Beauforo"
Charlotte would have been surprised if Miss Beaufort had had
a really appropriate answer for this ironic little speech] but she
was spared the necessity of anything beyond a slightly bewildered
"Oh yes, we are both quite charmed with her acquaintance]
delightful -- " by the unexpected arrival of Sir Edward Denham on
the Terrace. He had now had sufficient time to assess the nature
of the opposition which confronted him in Sanditon and had
driven his sister over from Denham Park in his gig.
A general rearrangement of positions was inevitable; and this
was accompanied by various strategic movements on the part of
the Miss Beauforts, aimed at securing for themselves the most
favourable places. They had considered the two young men
already on the Terrace their lawful property -- and were only at
cross purposes on how to divide up the spoil. But yet another
claimant for their attention brought the dilemma of choice and
indecision.
Henry Bmdenall was certainly the most handsome of the
three prepossessing candidates; on the other hand -- even with
all their powers for gay chatter to carry any awkward pauses --
they both found him a little difficult to engage in conversation,
Sidney parker was personable, pleasant <1and>1 modish. He would
certainly do very well for one of them. But Sir Edward possessed
the same qualifications -- and a title into the bargain. It was a
difficult decision and Charlotte watched their hesitant manoeuvres
with interest.
Miss Denham, however, had no hesitation at all. Fortunate in
having her choice limited by the exclusion of her brother, and
likewise discouraged by Mr. Brudenall's evident lack of interest
in anybody, she aimed her attentions directly at Sidney parker
and had buttonholed him, blockaded him and appeared deter-
mined to hold on to him while the Miss Beauforts were still
making up their minds.
Charlotte saw it all and gave Sir Edward full credit for bringing
his sister along to support him. probably she had been given
no very specific orders to engage Sidney's attention. But Miss
Denham was quite calculating enough to sum up an eligible
young man of independent means for herself. Sidney's decided
air of fashion alone would have been sufficient to assure him of
Miss Denham's consideration. She was likely to prove an
invaluable ally in counteracting any interference Sir Edward
expected in his determined pursuit of Miss Brereton.
And when the Sanditon House ladies did indeed join them on
the Terrace soon afterwards, Sidney was too occupied in pro-
tecting himself to be in a position to direct them in any way at
all. His present discomfiture was more than Charlotte had dared
to hope. She was not surprised, however, when he extricated
himself with considerable self-possession and earned Lady Den-
ham's delighted approval as well by suggesting that, as they were
now such a very large party, the best thing they could do was to
stroll along to the tea rooms and seat themselves in more comfort
there. Charlotte, remembering the tea room tables seated a
maximum of four at each, decided Sidney was wisely endeavouring
to restrict the scope of his activities; but he somewhat naturally
advanced a different reason for his proposal.
"My brother tells me the tea rooms are rather neglected; and
here is just the sort of pleasant, spontaneous gathering which
would do justice to them."
"Aye, that's very well spoken," cried Jady Denham. "There
is a great deal of sense in what you say, young man. And if more
visitors like you would remember our tea rooms on such occasions,
we would suffer no losses at all. To be sure, I was intending to call
on Mrs. Griffiths. But that can wait. A very good notion of
yours, Mr. parker. I will certainly form one of your little party
to our tea rooms."
This gave Sidney the opening he needed for walking away from
Miss Denham.
"I shall be deeply honoured by your inclusion in the party, Lady
Denham " he cried with unfeigned enthusiasm; and he proffered
his arm most gallantly, accepting her in happy exchange for her
niece. "I have been hoping for an opportunity of a longer con-
versation than we had on our short drive back from church last
Sunday. You know it is only since becoming acquainted with
Miss Brereton -- and recollecting <1then>1 that this was of course
your maiden name -- that I realise l have long been acquainted
with another near relation of yours -- Miss Elizabeth Brereton.
My total ignorance of the connection must plead my apology
in never mentioning her on previous visits to Sanditon.
Nothing could have been more proper, or more adroit, than
this very civil speech of Sidney's. Charlotte might wonder why
he had never found his acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth Brereton
worth mentioning to anyone before; but Sidney's manners were
always so designed to captivate that she could easily suppose he
only remembered it now in an effort to recommend himself to
Lady Denham; and that nothing more serious was intended than
a wish of giving pleasure to her.
Lady Denham's reaction therefore came as a considerable sur-
prise. She immediately withdrew her hand from Sidney's arm,
looked him up and down suspiciously and frowned with sudden
disapproval.
"Indeed] So you've met my niece, have you? Well, you can
save your compliments and your breath and so I warn you," she
said with one of her shrewdest glances. "No doubt she has been
getting round you to see whether an invitation can be wheedled
for her to Sanditon House] Lord bless me, I am not one who was
born yesterday as the saying goes; and my front door is not ajar
to every relation I possess. And so you may tell her when you go
back to London."
Sidney looked his astonishment at this forthright speech.
"Does your niece wish to come to Sanditon? he said blankly.
"l own myself very surprised. Of course it would be an excellent
notion in its way, he added hastily, "But Miss Elizabeth Brereton
is so competent, so highly valued, so indispensable in her own
home, that I doubt her family could ever be persuaded to let her
come to you. perhaps we are talking at cross-purposes and you
have some other niece in mind?"
"No, no. Miss Elizabeth is the one I mean. <1She>1 may have
made no direct application herself. But the Breretons have been
pushing her at me forever. They wanted me to invite her right
from the beginning instead of Miss Clara. Oh] you may depend
upon it, I saw what they were about. I see through all these little
schemes of all my relations. And as for Miss Clara declaring
this same Elizabeth to be her favourite cousin and talking and
talking for month after month of getting her to Sanditon some
time-- no wonder I am heartily sick of the name. Who am I
to be bumping into nieces in every parlour I possess?"
Sidney had recovered from his astonishment by this time and
appeared to be struck only by the unlucky coincidence of seeking
to recommend himself by a name which Lady Denham could not
bear and the ridiculous apprehensions it had aroused. Highly
delighted at having unwittingly occasioned them himself, he
seemed chiefly engrossed in deciding how he might increase them.
"How fortunate you are, Lady Denham, in having so many
nieces to choose among. And I am sure it would be a capital
scheme if you could persuade Miss Elizabeth to come to Sanditon.
The last time I met her she did not appear to me in the best of
health. perhaps her family <1might>1 be convinced sea-bathing
would be of some advantage to her."
"But no advantage to me at all," retorted Lady Denham. "Oh,
there are plenty of applicants for my spare rooms, I can tell you.
But I am not one to be taken-in so easily. And so I told Miss
Clara last time she raised the question.
Lady Denham's displeasure would have been vented a great
while longer; but Sidney was not inclined to practise his powers
of address on anyone so completely insusceptible to them; and
without much attending to the rest of her discourse, he soon hit
upon an adequate means of escape and seized the very next
pause in her complaints to say,
"You know, it has just occurred to me that my brother and
sisters should not be neglected in our little expedition to the tea
rooms. They are none of them great walkers. But this is an
easy saunter they would enjoy. If you will excuse me for one
minute, I will step across to Number Four and invite them to join
us"; and he walked away from the entire Denham family with an
air of considerable relief.
"Perhaps Mrs. Griffiths and Miss Lambe would like to come
too?" suggested Charlotte innocently. "It does seem a great
pity to be leaving them out."
"Of course, of course," said Sidney over his shoulder with a
smile which said very intelligibly, "As you see, <1my>1 little plan is
now completely out-of-hand. I may as well settle for the whole
of Sanditon."
The Miss Beauforts also greeted Charlotte's suggestion with
alacrity; and with such professions of affection for Miss Lambe
and such real indifference over her inclusion in the party, that
Charlotte decided they were not unduly alarmed by competition
from her either. But they were well-meaning enough girls; and
had Charlotte's idea crossed either of their minds, they might
even have taken the trouble to propose it themselves; for despite
her large fortune, Miss Lambe's health, her half-mulatto inheri-
tance and her reticence always kept her in the background on
social occasions though she was the pivot around which their
own household revolved.
The truth was that the Miss Beauforts were indebted to Miss
Lambe for many small kindnesses and generous gifts and delighted
by this unexpected opportunity to do something effortless for her































in return; and they vied with each other to be the first to issue this
invitation and give "dearest Adela" some pleasure.
Their application was successful, as was Sidney's at Number
Four, and the whole unwieldy group set off towards the tea
rooms with some minor skirmishing among the young ladies for
possession of the most favoured arms. Sidney had managed to
elude even Miss Denham by presenting both of his arms to his
sisters as they crossed their own threshold; and Henry Brudenall
stepped so very quickly between Lady Denham and Miss Brereton
rhat Charlotte revised her opinion of him: he might <1look>1 as though
he overheard nothing and was indifferent to everybody, but when
it came to evading compulsive talkers, he knew very well how to
take care of himself.
The Miss Beauforts clung to Sir Edward, but had to content
themselves with Arthur's homage alone as it never occurred to
him that the offer of his arm might be more useful.
Charlotte was very well satisfied to attach herself to Mrs.
Griffiths and Miss Lambe, being attracted to the former as a
steady, sensible woman and interested in the latter by a certain
shy wistfulness. But Miss Denham, who made a very ungracious
fourth member of their group and found it highly inconvenient to
be stumbling across shingle without a male arm to support her,
seemed to intimidate Adela. She had hardly got beyond resolv-
ing some reply to Charlotte's remarks on the day, the sunshine
and the sea gulls when a waspish interruption from Miss Denham
deprived her of further courage.
"Yes, I love to watch the sea gulls -- " she was saying.
"My brother is being most inconsiderate," snapped Miss Den-
ham, glaring at his retreating back closely flanked by the Miss
Beauforts. "He knows I cannot bear slithering about on pebbles."
Adela looked at her in wonder, shrank closer to Mrs. Griffiths,
and not a word more could be extracted from her. Charlotte
thought this excessive vulnerability most unfortunate but she pitied
Miss Lambe and forbore teasing her with any more questions.
A desultory conversation between herself and Mrs. Griffiths
carried them all the way to the tea rooms, where Miss Denham
abandoned them immediately; and Charlotte, relieved to be rid of
her, hoped to be speedily on better terms with her two chosen
companions.
But it was not to be. She had scarcely begun threading a way
for them towards a vacant table, when she became aware of the
polite struggle over seating now taking place among the others.
Sidney naturally had his own very definite ideas of how to settle
each particular foursome. But his sister Diana was equally
determined to organise the entire group. And Miss Denham,
the Miss Beauforts and even Lady Denham were offering powerful
resistance to being directed in any other way than they en-
visaged for themselves.
"I intended calling on Mrs. Griffiths this morning so now l
shall sit next to her in the tea rooms, announced Lady Denham
very decisively, moving away from the table already occupied by
Miss Brereton and Henry Brudenall.
"You will be very comfortable here, Diana," Sidney said
almost at the same time, trying to neutralise his sister's inter-
ference in his plans by swiftly seating her in Lady Denham's
vacated place.
"Oh, I never think of my own comfort when I can be of use to
others," maintained Miss Diana, hovering about. "Now where
is everyone else going to sio Susan, you can come here,"
offering her sister the chair next to Miss Brereton beside which
Sidney had stationed himself. "Now let me think -- and if Miss
Denham and Sidney take this table with -- "
"You are only tiring yourself unnecessarily, Diana. We can
all find places for ourselves."
But harassed as he was by Diana, and shadowed by a tenacious
Miss Denham, Sidney did not have luck with all his arrange-
ments; and while he was settling everyone else to his satisfaction,
Diana chose the last chair at Miss Brereton's table for herself and
he and Miss Denham indeed seemed destined for a tete-a-tete at
the only remaining table. This, however, was too much for him.
"Miss Heywood, will you not join Miss Denham and myself?"
he cried promptly. "I discover we are being sadly overlooked
and cannot join in with any of your gay foursomes."
The tone of voice was both appealing and commanding, and
accompanied by so grateful a look when Charlotte obeyed it that
she felt herself repaid for postponing her acquaintance with Miss
Lambe. In any case, Lady Denham had now usurped their quiet
little corner with so forthright an air of proprietorship and such
direct and assertive statements that she was doubtful if she would
have succeeded in drawing out the retiring Adela in such company
either.
She found her new situation had its compensations -- not
least of which was in noting the startling change in Miss Denham's
manner once she had succeeded in her own objective. Charlotte
had observed such a transformation before, but now it was so
marked as to be almost a caricature of the spoiled and selfish
child, whose smiles follow tears and tantrums and whose self-
centredness is transparent to all.
Miss Denham was now all complaisance and set herself out to
captivate Sidney parker most thoroughly. Smiling and exclaim-
ing, listening eagerly to his every remark and keeping up a steady
flow of flattering comments herself, she gave him little opportunity
to watch what was going on at the other tables or even to exchange
a word with Charlotte at their own.
Charlotte herself did not particularly mind being slighted,
being sufficiently amused by Miss Denham's style of conversation
to remain an appreciative listener.
"I really must compliment you on your carriage and your
horses, Mr. Parker. You will laugh at my warmth on such a
subject," with a gay sparkle. "It is one which gentlemen usually
choose to regard as peculiarly their own province for enthusiasm.
But I have always raved over a smart carriage. I assure you,"
rather archly, "I take more notice of a handsome carriage and
pair than I do over who is driving it. My brother often laughs at
me. He teased me very merrily yesterday morning when I was in
raptures over your equipage as it overtook us on the toll road.
Your groom exercises the horses every day in that direction, I
believe?"
"I imagine so. I have not made much use of them myself since
coming to Sanditon. But, Miss Heywood, it occurs to me --
"Such a perfectly matched pair] I have the greatest dislike of
unmatched horses] It is a source of continual amazement to me
that people can often spend so much money on their carriages --
and then try to skimp on their horses. Mr. and Mrs. partridge
of Halham Lodge are a case in point. They have a coach, a
barouche and a curricle, and not one of their horses is worthy
of being put in the shafts of my brother's gig. And such as they
<1do>1 have are never exercised."
"Yes, of course, exercise is very necessary. As I was just about
to remark to Miss Heywood, I should give my horses more work
and ourselves more pleasure by exploring farther afield. If l
drive myself, the carriage could easily accommodate four -- "
"And my brother could lead the way in our gig," interposed
Miss Denham, being uncertain which four Sidney had in mind but
determined to join the expedition in some capacity. "You would
certainly need local guidance to find the most attractive spots to
visit."
"Oh, I already know the exact spot I want to visit, said Sidney
pleasantly. "I have always had a very great desire to see Brin-
shore."
Whether the name was the first which occurred to him or
whether he had indeed formed an idea of provoking his brother by
visiting Brinshore, Charlotte was unable to decide. But the plan
certainly succeeded in disconcerting Miss Denham.
"But, Mr. parker, you could not have reckoned up the distance.
Brinshore must be a good sixteen miles off. Horses could not go
that far and return in the same day."
"I am sure my horses could, said Sidney. "Perhaps it might
be a little far for Sir Edward to drive his gig. But there is some-
thing about the very name of Brinshore which I find -- "
"What is all this talk about Brinshore?" broke in Diana from
the adjacent table. "Who is going to Brinshore? I own I
should very much like to see Brinshore myself. Our carriage
does nothing but sit in the stables of the hotel. We have only to
hire a pair of post horses from the Woodcocks and we can accom-
modate four. And even if Tom does not wish to come himself,
he can lend us his travelling chaise. I must ask Lady Denham
if she is interested in such a plan and how many her carriage
could hold."
And away sped Diana, leaving Miss Denham with the happy
conviction that she could not fail to be included in so large a
projected party.
"What an excellent woman your sister is, Mr. Parker. She
has everyone's concerns so much at heart -- always promoting
schemes for the enjoyment of others. If only <1she>1 had been stay-
ing in Sanditon on your previous visits, I am sure <1we>1 would be
better acquainted."
"Yes, it is a great pity," agreed Sidney but there was a momen-
tary expression of such artificial assent and a certain contemptu-
ous glance of his bright eye which informed Charlotte he regarded
it as more of a pity to be acquainted with Miss Denham at all.
She was beginning to read Sidney Parker's thoughts fairly ac-
curately and to find herself in agreement with a great many of
them. She also found that life in Sanditon had become
considerably more interesting since his arrival.
After tjnly five days' residence, the difference he had made was
of a most striking nature. And although Charlotte could not
hold him directly responsible for all the changes which had taken
place, his influence and his presence seemed to be everywhere
felt; and a spirited bustle and sudden desire for company had
now begun to transform that scattered little society into one
well-knit community.
CHAPTER19
THE EXCURSION to Brinshore was soon talked of as a settled thing.
When two people as intent on organising (or determined on med-
dling -- whichever way you chose to regard io as Sidney parker
and his sister had once made such a proposal, the speedy arrange-
ment of all minor details could be expected as a matter of course.
Lady Denham's indifference and Mr. parker's antagonism to the
project were alike discounted; and their horses and their carriages
were assumed to be at the disposal of everyone in Sanditon who
<1did>1 wish to see Brinshore.
These plans seemed likely to be thwarted at first by unsolicited
interference from Sir Edward. He was so determined he was not
going to be left out of the party by the inadequacy of his own gig
that he made repeated overtures for the loan of Lady Denham's
carriage -- the surest method of arousing both her suspicions and
her opposition. But by the time her refusal had become quite
obdurate, the parkers decided the problem merited their full
attention.
"For how are we all to be conveyed to Brinshore otherwise?"
cried Miss Diana. "Lady Denham"s coach may seat four with
ease. lt is far larger than ours. And she raised not the slightest
objection when I first made the suggestion to her. So what is
preventing its use now except selfishness? I have no patience
with these people who lack any consideration for others. And I
have a good mind to tell her so."
"You leave Lady Denham to me," adviscd Sidney. "She is
always very busy searching for hidden motives in the wrong
direction and anticipating deceit where none exists; but I think
I have her measure by now."
Sidney possessed an opinion of his own consequence and a
perseverance in his own schemes which were not to be damped
by the conduct or calculations of others; and with the happy
conviction that he knew how to ingratiate himself with an
elderly lady whose own comfort was her main preoccupation,
he set about arranging a series of accidental encounters with
Lady Denham.
He then took infinite pains over lulling her suspicions, en-
couraged her to talk about her domestic concerns, listened
patiently to complaints about her household and her house-
maids, sympathised over his brother's expensive projects for
Sanditon and solemnly agreed with her that method and economy
were essential in everything.
As a consequence, Lady Denham was immediately struck by
his good sense and steady principles. By the end of the week,
Sidney parker and Henry Bmdenall had become welcome and
regular callers at Sanditon House; and Lady Denham had
convinced herself that her coachman was becoming indolent, her
horses growing sluggish and her carriage rusting away from lack
of employment. There would certainly be no harm, she
announced gleefully, in ordering them all out on an excursion.
Sidney considered he had exerted himself quite enough by this
time and was very willing for Diana to complete the negotiations
over borrowing Mr. parker's carriage. A mere brother's ob-
jections, he implied, required no such delicate treatment and could
be easily overborne by her usual domineering tactics.
Miss Diana, determined to order and contrive all the remaining
details herself, set about the task with a great deal of flurried
commotion and a series of dogmatic decrees. Even the weather
she insisted must obey her commands. But when the fine spell
held out and another day of sunshine greeted her for the Brinshore
outing, she was so delighted with her success that she allowed
Sidney some further share in the proceedings.
As the large party began assembling at Trafalgar House after
an early breakfast, she even appealed for his help in rearranging
some of her careful plans for the division of passengers among the
four available carriages.
"Well] What is to be done now, Sidney? I find Mrs. Griffiths
has entrusted Miss Lambe to my care and does not need a place
for herself. And here is Tom saying he and Mary will not go to
Brinshore either] If only I had known all that, we could have
dispensed with one carriage."
"I knew they never intended to go," admitted Sidney. "But
ir is always best to have spare places in any expedition, you know,
Diana. Henry, for instance, is a very bad traveller and likely to
be queasy on any journey. It would be an excellent thing if he
were to travel inside my carriage by himself."
"Oh? I had planned to invite him to share ours. Or perhaps
we should take Miss Lambe? Susan is very slight and even with
Arthur we have room for four -- "
"Miss Denham will expect such a mark of attention should be
paid to her first. You had best invite her," suggested Sidney.
"And Sir Edward, of course, should be in charge of Lady Denham's
coach. But we must be off to a quick start. We have thirty-
two miles to cover. If we are to see as much as we want of
Brinshore in between, one day will hardly suffice unless we leave
now. We cannot afford to waste any more of it talking."
lndeed he communicated such a sense of haste to all concerned
that they scarcely tried to contradict him; and he had bundled
two carriages off on their way, each containing four people,
before anyone realised the two remaining carriages were now left
to accommodate only four people between them.
"That was very stupidly done of you, Sidney," observed his
brother, standing in his driveway. "There you have let the two
Miss Beauforts and Miss Lambe go off all crowded together in
Lady Denham's carriage with Sir Edward; and here is still plenty
of room in both mine and yours. Only Miss Brereton and Miss
Heywood left, you see."
"And they can be very comfortable in your chaise," replied
Sidney. "It is only large enough for three at most. As for
myself, I am quite determined to drive in the rear the whole way,
You never know what accidents may occur in such a positive
cavalcade. Come, let us be off. Well Tom, you may be sure
we will tell you all about the beauties of Brinshore on our return]
And flourishing his whip, he signalled the remaining two car-
riages to set off down the driveway.
Charlotte, finding she and Clara Brereton were to be confined
together in the parkers' carriage, wondered how many polite
sentences she would be expected to exchange over the next few
hours. She felt no temptation to go beyond that. Clara's
reserved and circumspect behaviour, combined with the deter-
mined but silent pressure she had exercised over their visit to
Sir Edward's cottage, made Charlotte very wary of any further
efforts towards intimacy. And the air of mystery she had always
sensed about Miss Brereton had only increased with recent
observation of her conduct. Once, for a fleeting moment on the
day of their bathing excursion, Charlotte had had a glimpse of the
sun's rays full upon her, and had felt she understood her. But
she had passed from sight again, preferring to remain in the
shadows, tantalising and intriguing.
Since Sidney Parker's arrival in Sanditon, moreover, Miss
Brereton had been so preoccupied with either talking to him or
earning his good opinion by talking to his friend that she had had
very little time to spare for Charlotte. And though the subsequent
coolness in their relationship was none of her own doing, Charlotte
was not sorry for it.
She was surprised therefore when, after a short and thoughtful
silence, Miss Brereton began their conversation on a markedly
personal note.
"How very sorry l am we have had no opportunity to repeat our
bathing excursion, Miss Heywood. l often remember it with
great pleasure. Did you not find it very delightful too?
"l enjoyed it very much," Charlotte said quite sincerely.
"The sea so sparkling, the sun warm, the day so perfect --- oh]
and our excitement adding to it all. I was grateful you seemed
to feel everything with the same joy as myself," continued Miss
Brereton as though determined to draw Charlotte's attention to
some amicable bond existing between them. "And I have always
thought of you since as a friend in whom I could tmst."
Charlotte gave a circumspect smile and wondered what was
coming next.
"So l am very glad we find ourselves unexpectedly together
now," went on Miss Brereton. "In other circumstances I might
not have dared to consult you. But I badly need advice --
advice from someone like you -- another woman close to my own
age," hesitating a little. "I have so few female friends."
Charlotte bit back a retort that female friends generally required
to be encouraged as well as male, and said coolly,
"But surely you have known Miss Denham a great deal longer
than <1we>1 have been acquainted?"
"Miss Denham] Oh no] Her brother -- oh no, no] She
would be the last person to understand."
Charlotte had some sympathy with this view of Miss Denham's
compassionate possibilities and relented sufficiently to say,
"perhaps you may soon have a visit from your cousin, Miss
Elizabeth Brereton. From something that was said among the
parkers the other day, I gathered Lady Denham might now be
considering such an invitation -- " She hesitated. Mrs. parker's
actual words to her husband had been: "Well, Lady Denham's
latest complaint is that Miss Brereton has lost interest in her house-
hold duties. She is thinking of inviting another niece, a Miss
Elizabeth, to stay with them. According to her, Miss Elizabeth
is very competent and efficient and will be able to show Miss
Clara how to run the household more smoothly, if only her family
can spare her for a visit at this time."
To Charlotte s ears, this had sounded far more as though it was
according to Sidney parker -- indeed a striking example of his
latest persuasive powers; and her chief interest in the conversation
at the time lay in wondering why he should seek to influence Lady
Denham in such a direction. What possible object could he
have in securing her niece an invitation to Sanditon? She could
not understand it at all, but as Miss Brereton seemed in so
confidential a mood, she hoped she might now learn more about
the situation from her.
"Lady Denham does seem more favourably inclined towards a
visit from Elizabeth," agreed Miss Brereton. But I know how
long she could still take over inviting her. She hates disturbing
any of her routine arrangements. And though she talks of the
visit as a possibility now, months may elapse before anything
is achieved. By the time Elizabeth arrives it may be too late for
me to discuss all my problems with her."
"All your problems?" said Charlotte with some surprise. She
suspected Miss Brereton of over-dramatising her situation; but
one glance at the lovely, earnest face beside her was sufficient
proof that Miss Brereton at least regarded her own problems as
very serious indeed. And Charlotte generously tried to rid
herself of the suspicion that this was mere play-acting.
"Oh Miss Heywood, I am so terrified of taking momentous
decisions in a hurry] And everything seems to be happening so
quickly] What I badly need is sensible advice from someone
not so closely involved as I am in the outcome of this dreadful
tangle."
Momentous decisions and dreadful tangles had rarely come
Charlotte's way. Though still feeling she was being drawn into a
rather melodramatic and unnatural conversation, she tried her best
to be charitable.
"My advice would not be worth a great deal," she said slowly,
"as my experience has been rather limited."
"Ah, but that would be no drawback at all," cried Clara
eagerly. "Nobody could have had much experience of the
situation which now confronts me. Indeed I am considering such
a step as sometimes appals me. You know, I am sure, something
of the difficulties of my position with Lady Denham. And Sir
Edward and his sister -- oh, dear Miss Heywood, only to tell
someone of my problems would be a relief."
Miss Brereton s sudden leap from secrec to openness had
already bewildered Charlotte into an embarrassed silence. She
waited very uncomfortably through the ensuing pause, uncertain
what she could usefully say till the situation became a little
clearer to her.
"But I see I must tell you straight out if I want your help--
the fact is -- in short -- " somewhat incoherently, "I am
considering an elopement."
This stumbling confession was so far from what Charlotte had
expected that she was too astonished to be immediately able to
reply. Miss Brereton's position in Lady Denham's household, the
difficulties she mentioned, perhaps some small intrigue with Sir
Edward -- but she had always believed her hard-headed enough to
stop short of this] And it <1could>1 only be Sir Edward whom she
meant.
The thought flashed through her mind, only to be instantly
dismissed, that Clara Brereton might be intending to elope with
Sidney parker. Common sense immediately told her such an
idea was absurd. A doubt might remain whether or not Sidney
was entirely free from any peculiar attachment to Clara. But if
he did indeed wish to marry her, why should he not do so in the
normal way? He had independent means, good connections
and no reason at all to flout convention. There could be no
possible objections to the match from his family or from hers.
So why should either of them upset their friends and alarm their
relations by carrying through such an intention behind their
backs? In what cause? Such an elopement would be merely
romantic nonsense of a sort Charlotte did not believe existed
in real life. She was positive she could exonerate Sidney Parker
from such thoughtless behaviour and acquit him of any but the
most trifling duplicity. He certainly had his faults, but they were
those of levity and high spirits, not genuine lack of consideration
for others.
With an effort of will, she swung her mind away from Sidney
parker and tried to concentrate instead on the connection between
Clara Brereton and Sir Edward. Miss Brereton had mentioned
Sir Edward more than once during this strange conversation.
She had said his sister would be the last person to understand
her problems; and she had talked of difficulties with Lady Denham.
Such a marriage would certainly not meet with <1her>1 approval.
And surely her approval was vital if they hoped to inherit her
fortune? But Lady Denham was so unpredictable, so full of odd
whims and caprices -- perhaps Clara and Sir Edward had decided
they could no longer wait till one or the other of them became
her heir? By marrying first and throwing themselves on her
mercy later, they might hope to be jointly forgiven and inherit
the fortune between them?
Charlotte conceded that reasoning similar to this could explain
the purpose behind such an elopement. But it brought her no
nearer to understanding Clara Brereton. How any sensible girl
could consider an elopement with Sir Edward was beyond her
comprehension; and she was beginning to feel a great reluctance
even to listen to any explanation Miss Brereton might wish to
give. She did not want to be involved in all these problems of
hers; and she certainly had no intention of helping her to elope
with Sir Edward.
"l am very sorry," she said at last. "I do not believe I can be of
any help to you, I will of course respect the confidence you have
just made. But I must make it quite plain from the outset that
l disapprove of elopements and could advise in no way at all."
The silence which followed this stiff little speech of hers was
to Charlotte s feelings very dreadful. Miss Brereton, looking
crushed, turned her head towards the window and they both sat
quite mutely, hearing for the first time the horses' steady trot
and the rumble of the carriage wheels along the road.
A very few moments more, however, completed Charlotte's
present embarrassment, She had only time to decide there could
be another two hours of this uncomfortable silence to sit through,
when she was conscious of a shout, a sudden jolt and that all
motion had abruptly ceased.
"I hope you are not alarmed," said Sidney parker, opening the
door. "But it is a small inconvenience to the accident you might
have had. A wheel of your carriage is in immediate danger of
collapsing."
He helped them both to alight and they stood rather despondent-
ly in the road with Henry Brudenall and the Parkers' groom.
Still bewildered by Miss Brereton's revelation and preoccupied in
trying to understand the reason or object behind it, Charlotte did
not at first take in the details of what Sidney was saying. A
wheel might come off at any moment. The carriage should
proceed no further till it was mended. Providence indeed he had
had the presence of mind to drive behind them and that he should
have noticed it] But how all this would affect them on their
expedition to Brinshore, she had not yet had time to consider.
"I wonder my brother should not have remarked that weakening
before," said Sidney, looking gravely at a back wheel. "It must
date from the time he overturned the carriage."
Charlotte looked carefully at the wheel to which his attention
was directed but could not perceive it was very different from
any of the other wheels. She frowned in an effort of concen-
tration.
"But I am almost certain he overturned the carriage on the
other side."
"Ah, that would account for it completely then," cried Sidney,
his brow lightening. "A jolt and crack on <1this>1 side passing
unnoticed when all attention was directed to the left wheels]
And the fault shows up far more in motion, he added. "It is
splaying badly, particularly on the corners and when it lurches
over bumps. You do not know a great deal about coach-building,
Miss Heywood?"
"No-- how should l? l once saw the wheel come off one of
our farm wagons."
"Well, briefly, the problem here is this: the spokes are made of
oak and tenoned into the stock in a staggered fashion, one for-
ward, one back, so as not to weaken it. They seem to be still
true. But the mortises on the rim here are cut either of ash or
beech and are no longer picking up all the spoke tenons firmly.
There is too much play. parsons and I both agree the carriage
must be sent straight to the wheelwright."
"That's right, Mr. Sidney. Lucky Toomey's is hard by,"
asserted the groom but with some amusement in his voice, which
made Charlotte look at him quickly and wonder if Sidney parker
knew any more about coach-building than she did herself.
"And we have to wait for it to be repaired?"
"No, no -- that will be a day's job at least. We can all fit very
easily into my chaise. Nothing simpler. But by now we are so
far behind the main party, we should lose no further time. Miss
Brereton, may I help you inside?"
Charlotte, with some reluctance to be closeted again with the
same companion, was turning to follow very naturally when
Sidney announced her place would now be beside him on the box.
"But will not Mr. Brudenall be sitting with you?"
"Oh, Henry could not possibly sit on the box. He is the most
shocking traveller. Come along, Henry, in you get."
lt was not only Charlotte who questioned his judgement on this
matter. Though Clara Brereton could no longer have had any
desire for Charlotte s company, she made a feeble protest on being
deprived of it; and Mr. Brudenall, shocking traveller though he
was, seemed to find the plan an ungentlemanlike one.
"But Sidney, there is really no need -- such an odd appear-
ance -- "
"Will Miss Heywood be comfortable up there in the wind?
Mr. parker, let us discuss how best we can all sit."
"Perhaps there is room for me inside as well?"
"Dreadful squash. You would not like it at all with three,"
maintained Sidney. "No wind at all today. And Miss Heywood
will have a much better view of the country. This way we shall
all sit very comfortably."
He advanced his arguments in a manner which plainly showed
he had scarcely a doubt of his opinion being complied with;
appeared to consider their objections in opposition as given for
mere formality, and concluded with,
"Well, we can settle all the points you raise as we go along.
Fortunately it is of little consequence how we sit. We are in too
great a hurry and an immediate discussion is unnecessary. Do
get in, Henry."
And to Charlotte's amazement, accepting Sidney Parker's
authority, the others began to climb into the chaise.
"I am sure there is some better solution -- " she insisted,
standing obstinately in the road.
But Sidney, unused to any contradiction and impatient to catch
up with the rest of the party, would neither allow them to wait
and discuss the situation, nor listen to what Charlotte was
saying now; and forcibly seizing her hand in his, he pulled her up
on to the box beside him, having overpowered the combined
objections of the other three by the rapidity of his own actions.
Charlotte, half angry and half laughing, was obliged to sit
beside him; and the chaise had moved off again before she had
time to decide what they really should have done.
Surprise that Sidney had chosen <1her>1 to sit beside him was not
the least of her sensations. That he should have selected her for
his companion on a two-hour drive in preference to Clara Brereton
both puzzled and pleased her and at first she was too astonished
to attempt to understand it.
Her new vantage point on the box was indeed a pIeasant one
and for some minutes she was content to look around her from
the peak of the coast road they had now reached.
An occasional cloud dimmed the bright sunshine for a moment;
but the day seemed the most perfect of that summer; and Char-
lotte's very position for enjoying it, perched up in the open air,
with the high, beautiful sky above her and the sea constantly
changing its colours as it dashed against the cliffs below her,
made her altogether in charity with Sidney, who had chosen it for
her.
But although everything was thus smiling, she could not feel
completely easy for very long. Several anomalies in this situation
continued to vex her. Why, if Henry Brudenall was such a bad
traveller, would he ever have wanted to spend four hours in a
closed carriage on a sunny summer day? The short interval he
would be allowed to explore an unknown and possibly unattractive
seaside resort seemed to her a very doubtful incentive, For while
the name of Brinshore might be a powerful inducement to Sidney
parker, it was unlikely to have roused great enthusiasm in an
apathetic stranger.
Then there was the wheel; and the groom's veiled amusement at
Sidney's profuse explanations; and finally this unnecessary division
of the party once more into arranged pairs. On a walk, she had
allowed it to be permissible; on a drive, she recognised a certain
lack of propriety in such deliberate contrivance. And after
hesitating some little while, Charlotte decided to broach the matter
again.
"Nonsense," said Sidney immediately. "I did not expect you to
stand upon such ceremony. The family nature of our party
renders all such prudery ridiculous. I have merely chosen posi-
tions for us all which are individually the most comfortable. Are
you now telling me you are <1not>1 comfortable?"
"Thank you," said Charlotte, remembering the acute dis-
comfort of her place beside Miss Brereton. "I am perfectly
comfortable."
"Then are you trembling for fear of being seen by some chance
acquaintance with starched notions?
"We shall certainly not meet with an-yone I know."
"Then we will meet with nobody l know," Sidney assured her
cheerfully. "And as Miss Brereton, who has a larger acquaintance
in the district, is now safely hidden inside the carriage, there is
nothing at all to worry us."
"You are very ridiculous," Charlotte said, laughing in spite of
herself. "Your arguments only amuse me instead of convincing
me."
"At least they may convince you I am a very agreeable young
man, which after all is the happiest conviction for me, said Sidney
gallantly. "I do not know how you rate such things, Miss Hey-
wood. But I think that is the very least I can expect after all my
efforts. I have really gone to a great deal of trouble to secure
pleasant company for myself on this drive."
The smile on her face and the glow of mingled surprise and
confusion on her cheeks were an instinctive reply to this urbane
compliment. That such an explanation of Sidney's odd seating
arrangements <1had>1 suggested itself to her she could not deny: it
would have been a very welcome interpretation of this incident if
it were true; but she refused to believe he had no other purpose
in view. By provoking, by flattering, by subtle manoeuvres or
by high-handed insistence, she had watched Sidney Parker getting
his own way often enough by now to recognise that in choosing
<1her,>1 in endeavouring to be pleasant to <1her,>1 his conduct must be
likewise influenced by some ulterior motive.
"That is a very pretty speech, Mr. Parker," she said with as
much composure as she could muster. "But unfortunately l
would prefer to hear the truth."
"What a difficult young woman you are. There is no bam-
boozling you at all," sighed Sidney.
"I do not think it is being difficult to consider lies unnecessary."
"Unnecessary? Oh no] Lies are often very useful. I am
rather fond of them myself. However, let us not quarrel the point
in this particular case. I have no real objection to telling you the
truth."
But he stopped and stared at his horses' heads for so long that
Charlotte wondered if he was now inventing a fresh set of lies for
her benefit.
"Well?" she said encouragingly.
"Yes, of course I am going to tell you," he said with a smile.
"I am only deciding where it is best to begin. Well then, so far
as I know -- and I know nothing at all about wheels -- there was
nothing the matter with my brother's carriage. In return for a
small gratuity, Parsons has agreed to give the horses some milder
exercise and meet us at the wheelwright's on our return. Henry
is not a particularly shocking traveller. But today, of all days, I
wanted to assure him of an agreeable companion. I will make
some opportunity in Brinshore to thank Miss Brereton for her
very great kindness in performing this service for me."
"What service?" enquired Charlotte suspiciously. She was
not entirely convinced Sidney was speaking the truth now but her ,
attention was assured and she was very willing to listen.
"Miss Heywood, as you are such a sensible -- such a logical
person, I owe you some little explanation of the deceit I have been
practising over this whole excursion. The day for our drive to
Brinshore may seem to you -- and to everyone else -- to have
been chosen by my sister Diana. But, in fact, I had a very particu-
lar reason for fixing on today out of any others. Today is the
wedding day of Henry's cousin; and it is my very great wish that he
should survive it as effortlessly as possible. I can neither leave
him to mope by himself nor to be irritated by strangers.
"At breakfast, yesterday morning, Henry actually emerged from
his fit of abstraction over his cousin long enough to establish Miss
Brereton as a charming girl. I had already been talking about
her for half an hour; but one minute of Henry's attention is all
l can expect these days. Perhaps by tomorrow I may hope to
increase it to two minutes."
It would be much wiser for you to stop encouraging any
friendship between Miss Brereton and Mr. Brudenall," Charlotte
told him.
Sidney already knew Sir Edward was an admirer of Clara's
and perhaps found amusement in provoking him. Had he known
Sir Edward to be so serious a contender for her affections, he
might have hesitated to promote further circumstances for rivalry;
and with the likelihood of an actual elopement still vividly in her
mind, Charlotte believed such interference from Sidney could
lead to disastrous complications.
But she had no intention of giving this reason for her advice.
Charlotte had not been so disloyal to her own sex as to impart
her earlier suspicions of Miss Brereton to Sidney; she would have
thought it equally unforgivable to do so now those suspicions had
become a certainty. So she could think of nothing to add in
support of her advice beyond a rather lame, "You would hardly
wish to be entangling Mr. Brudenall's affections again during
his last month in England."
Sidney protested this to be quite impossible. Even Henry's
affectionate heart and talent for sentiment were incapable of so
rapid a switch from one young lady to another, He had loved
his cousin for ten years. The next ten years might prove he was
not inconsolable. Ten months might even do it. But the ten
days or so he now had at his disposal were inadequate to work
such a change. All that could reasonably be expected was that
they might prove to Henry that other charming young women
existed in the world besides his cousin; and the more he saw
of Miss Brereton now, the more speedy would be his eventuaI
recovery.
Any objections which Charlotte produced only served to confirm
him in the brilliance of his scheme. Certainly, there might be
other young ladies in Sanditon who could console his friend quite
successfully. But she must admit Henry's susceptibilities were
blunted for the moment and there was no point in dividing them
among several contenders. No, no, Miss Brereton had been the
first to show an interest in him and that, she must also admit,
already had a charm of its own. The simplicity of his deft little
plot appealed to him more every time he considered it. And the
impulsive nature of the plan seemed to Charlotte rather typical of
Sidney parker.
She tried again.
"But surely it is very wrong to be promoting any <1particular>1
degree of friendship between Mr. Brudenall and Miss Brereton?
she persisted earnestly. "By throwing them together all day like
this -- "
"My dear Miss Heywood, I am not for a moment suggesting
we become matchmakers," cried Sidney, pretending to look
shocked at the idea. "Do <1you>1 think Henry and Miss Brereton
are suited for anything of a permanent nature? This is purely
a temporary expedient -- for my own convenience, I do admit.
But I promise you no harm could possibly arise from it. Henry
is certainly immune from any charms but his cousin's at the
present time. And as for Miss Brereton -- I know she pities him
from the bottom of her heart; but she would have to be his
cousin to find any attraction in such low spirits or any pleasure
in such languid conversation."
Although Sidney ridiculed the notion that any dangers and
evils could arise for either party from this drive, Charlotte would
have continued to argue had it not occurred to her that Mr.
Brudenall might indeed distract Clara in some way from her still
hesitant plans to elope with Sir Edward. And though unwilling
to become an active campaigner in Sidney's schemes, to either
impel or assist them, she saw no harm in being a passive witness.
Charlotte had done.
"Well, I would counsel caution rather than encouragement," she
added only, in faint warning.
"Exactly," laughed Sidney. "That is exactly the advice I
expected you to give. Caution and Miss Heywood go so well
together. Would you very much object if I galloped my horses
on this most tempting stretch of road?"
Charlotte smiled her permission -- with no objection to his
changing the subject. She was only sorry he regarded her as
such a poor-spirited creature, and was not at all alarmed by the
speed at which they were soon travelling. His horses were fresh
and excited by the prospect of a gallop but he appeared to have
them well under control, took full advantage of the fine straight
stretch of good road to let them have their heads, then reined
them in effortlessly.
"Whoa there, my beauties, this is no elopement, you know."
"Elopemeno"
The word startled her. Charlotte stiffened and directed candid
eyes of enquiry at Sidney Parker.
"Why yes, an elopement," he said easily. "Horses are supposed
to travel fast on such occasions, you know: to escape enraged
parents, add excitement to the adventure -- thundering hooves --
romance of the roadway -- " He glanced at her face, rather
surprised at the expression of disapproving gravity. "In an
elopement or a race. Would you prefer me to have called,
"Whoa there, this is not a race?"
Charlotte pulled herself together. Sidney, she decided, had no
doubt been using the phrase very lightly. With <1her>1 mind still
half-engrossed by the recent more earnest reference, she realised
she was reading a significance into the word he had not himself
intended.
"Yes, l would prefer it," she said curtly.
"You do not approve of elopements?"
"Not at all."
"In no circumstances?"
"I cannot think of any where I would approve."
"You are extraordinarily consistent in your opinions, Miss
Heywood. But cannot you allow the tiniest loophole for an
elopement to be possibIe between two sincere and genuine
people?"
Sidney was laughing at her again, she knew. But she had no
intention of withdrawing from her position.
"An elopement," she said, choosing her words carefuIly,
"appears to me as irresponsible conduct. It gives pain and
apprehension to parents, undue worry to friends and altogether,
in most cases, seems highly unnecessary."
"Unnecessary is a favourite word with you, I note. Lies are
unnecessary. Elopements are unnecessary. But come, let
us suppose there are circumstances -- unreasonable guardians,
unavoidable separations, persecuted lovers, over-strict parents,
perhaps even a forced marriage being arranged -- anything you
like to imagine which might make an elopement the only way of
uniting a couple very deeply in love, would you still disapprove?"
"The instances <1you>1 like to imagine are certainly unnecessary.
Outside of library romances whoever heard of such cases? What
parents today are tyrannical enough to insist on an enforced
marriage if their daughter is at all unwilling?"
"Then let us not bother with circumstances at all. Will you
make no allowance for the instinctive guidance of the heart, for
intensity of emotions? Or do you consider they are also tin-
necessary?"
lt is not really a subject I care to discuss, said Charlotte
crossly. "And I cannot see it is of the slightest importance to
establish what my opinions might be on a hypothetical elopement."
"Oh, but your opinions fascinate me," replied Sidney. "They
are so very definite that I long to know if they will change -- or
how and when they will change. But there, if the subject vexes
you, I will not press it. By all means let us talk about something
which interests <1you.">1
Sidney's readiness to consider her wishes and her preference in
any conversation was always one of his main charms. And they
were soon talking easily again on a variety of topics with the
familiarity of long-established acquaintance. London and
Brighton, which she had never visited, came alive for her when
he described them. Even his occasional teasing she had learned
ro meet with good humour. The subtle compliments he occasion-
ally paid were not so extravagant as those Sir Edward laboured to
produce; and she accepted them quietly and properly but with no
pretence at all of believing them. They were obliged to sit
together for two hours and she gave Sidney still credit for the
simple, disinterested benevolence with which he carried out his
duty to entertain her.
Charlotte was not vain enough to think it possible for Sidney
to have any sort of partiality for her. He was pleasant and
courteous to all young women. His manners, frank candour and
high spirits must be a general recommendation to all; and to
imagine that she could ever appropriate any particular regard
for herself from a good will so universally bestowed was clearly
absurd.
Common sense having thus indicated to Charlotte that it would
be most unwise of her to think too much about Sidney parker,
she continued to sit beside him, to listen to his engaging talk
and to enjoy his company very thoroughly. And as the happy
blend of reason and weakness in this conduct did not seem at all
contradictory to her, the danger resulting from Sidney's plot for
rearranging their positions was quite as serious to her as any she
had ever apprehended for Mr. Brudenall.
In short, it can only be inferred that she was in a promising way
to falling in love herself and would be well into the middle of it
before she realised she had fairly begun. With all her level-
headedness and all her sobriety, Charlotte was unaware of the
pitfall opening up before her -- the supreme folly of bestowing her
regard without any certainty of its being returned; and like many
a less sensible sister, she was behaving in the most normal and
illogical way.
The only discovery she did make was that once again several
hours spent with Sidney parker sped by so quickly that Brinshore
was reached before she had thought they could possibly have
covered more than a quarter of the distance.
CHAPTER 2O
BY THE TIME Sidney's carriage drew up at the inn, the rest of
the party had already set out on foot to explore Brinshore; and
no immediate explanations for their odd seating arrangements
proved necessary. Charlotte, whose relief was pretty well equally
divided between Sir Edward's not being at hand to comment on
Clara Brereton's position nor Miss Denham to comment on her
own, wondered if explanations would ever be made now at all.
That Sidney was bent on giving his own apologies and thanks to
Miss Brereton was obvious from the manner in which he walked
hurriedly away with her on the pretext of finding the others.
"They are bound to be somewhere on the shore line, he called
to Henry and Charlotte over his shoulder. "Come along, keep
up."
"Come along, keep up, Miss Heywood," echoed Mr. Brudenall,
with a light touch of mimicry Charlotte had hardly expected from
him. "We must all do as Sidney dictates on these occasions.
He decides what is for our own good and it is best to obey."
Charlotte was very much inclined to think Sidney was right
and the morning's drive had had all the happy effect on Henry
Brudenall which his friend intended. For though he was still
rather serious and occasionally absent-minded, she was surprised
to discover she could now extract an almost normal conversation
from him. He agreed with her that the Brinshore surroundings
seemed flatter than Sanditon's, that the village was not so im-
mediately charming and, when they reached the beach, that there
was indeed a remarkable quantity of seaweed.
As Charlotte always tried to avoid Henry Brudenall's company
wherever possible, and had been particularly determined to do so
on his cousin's wedding day, she found this sudden change in his
spirits as welcome as it was perplexing.
They walked along the shingle, exchanging several more polite
comments and perceiving and pointing out the main party to each
other at almost the same time. They were all at the other end
of the beach by the bathing machines, and Charlotte and Henry
followed Sidney's lead towards them. The brittle brown fronds
of seaweed, dried by the sun, crackled quite pleasantly underfoot
the whole way along; but Charlotte had just announced -- and
Mr. Bmdenall acquiesced -- that such a profusion of seaweed
must be ranked a distinct nuisance at any seaside resort, when all
their views on the matter were overthrown by their meeting with
the others.
The Miss Beauforts were ecstatic about the seaweed. It was,
apparently, Brinshore's chief claim to fame -- and had they seen
the sweet seaweed pictures in the shop outside the library? Oh,
then they must all come immediately to look at them. Seaweed,
the Miss Beauforts insisted, was a very definite attraction at a
resort; one could spend happy hours collecting prize pieces; one
could trace them or press them and arrange them most artistically.
Even Arthur seemed to have caught something of their en-
thusiasm -- though regarding it as a more scientific pastime.
Released from Miss Beaufort and Miss Letitia and now getting
near to Charlotte, he flourished a specimen of glossy olive-
coloured seaweed he had picked up himself.
"What do you think of <1thao">1 he said proudly. "Not a tear
or a bruise on it anywhere]"
"No," agreed Charlotte, poking it rather gingerly. "I suppose
all that slime makes it yielding enough to prevent tearing."
"And think how absorbing it must be collecting and identifying
all the varieties -- there are hundreds of them. We have just come
across a man on a naturalist's ramble; he had a basket in one
hand and a prod in the other; and he was wading out on the low
tide to look for more specimens. This one, he told me, was very
common. But only look how beautiful it is with such jagged
fronds and sweeping curves."
Charlotte looked at it but declined to take it. But Miss
Lambe, who had also decided to walk with Miss Heywood,
admired it so shyly and yet so sincerely that Arthur was very
content to present it to her instead.
Charlotte herself remained unmoved by the charms of seaweed
even when they reached the Miss Beauforts' shop and were
entreated to admire the framed pictures. Dried and arranged
carefully under glass, the seaweed appeared now in the form of
baskets and bouquets of flowers, set above, below or around a set
of obligatory verses in faultless copperplate:
<1Call us not weeds, we are flowers of the sea,>1
<1For lovely and bright and gay-tinted are we,>1
<1And quite independent of sunshine or showers,>1
<1Then call us not weeds, we are ocean's gay flowers.>1
<1We are nursed not like plants of a summer Parterre,>1
<1Where gales are but sighs of an evening air,>1
<1Our exquisite, fragile and delicate forms>1
<1Are nursed by the ocean and rocked by its storms.>1
"Oh] I am quite enchanted with these seaweed pictures,"
exclaimed Miss Letitia. "As soon as we get back to Sanditon,
we must try to find seaweed there. And then we could make our
own pictures. At low tide, you know, I am sure we could discover
patches of it somewhere."
"And perhaps we could also find some gentleman who would
be willing to help us," cried Miss Beaufort archly. "One who
would not mind sopping his shoes occasionally in sea water to
bring us back a few trophies."
She sparkled a glance of such saucy appeal at Sidney parker
that he instinctively retreated a pace or two. He recovered
however to reply with some resource.
"I am very sure you will. Arthur is exactly the man you want.
He seems to have taken a great fancy to seaweed already. And
what about you, Miss Heywood? Are you also enchanted by
Brinshore's beautiful seaweed? Ah yes, I can read in your eyes
that we are in complete agreement on the matter."
But the Miss Beauforts were not interested in Charlotte's
opinion, still less in reading her eyes with Sidney parker. If they
had ever looked carefully into those clear grey eyes, they might
have been disconcerted by the steady twinkle in their quite
remarkable depth. But neither of the Miss Beauforts was in the
habit of looking very carefully at members of their own sex -- or
at most not beyond their clothes. Miss Brereton's and Miss
Denham's opinions they eagerly canvassed; they could not escape
hearing Diana's; and even listened with attention to Miss parker's:
all of these had beaux or brothers to claim their respect and
entitle them to form the core of the merry little group, gathered
inside and outside the small curio shop.
And despite Sidney's efforts to include them in the general
conversation, Charlotte found herself isolated with Miss Lambe
over a counter of sea shells. They both stared down in silence
at shell boxes, shell-work picture frames, shell boats and shell
rondels; but finding nothing to comment on in this trumpery
collection, Charlotte soon wearied of it and was about to turn
away, when she became aware of the absorbed expression on
Miss Lambe's face as she examined the shell-studded trinker
trays. At that moment she glanced up and, conscious of being
observed, gave Charlotte a smile of sudden brilliance.
"I love shells," she confided. "So fragile -- so delicate --"
This was only the second sentence Charlotte had heard Miss
Lambe utter. The first had been, "I love to watch the sea gulls."
Charlotte found them an arresting combination and turned back
to the trinket tray, wondering what she could find to say in its
favour to encourage the conversation.
"Some of the shells have pretty shapes and colours," she
conceded at last; but she spoke so kindly that Miss Lambe was
emboldened to continue on her own.
"Oh] not these. I do not mean these. They are rather clumsy
-- and common. But all shells remind me of my childhood.
At home, in Barbados, there were such beautiful shells. My
father made a collection of them, and I have it now. Would you
like to see io"
Charlotte replied that she would like to see it very much and
listened with attention as Miss Lambe described it. But she was
far less interested in the shell collection than in this transformation
of a timid young girl into a voluble enthusiast as she spoke about
it. There was no longer any question of drawing Miss Lambe out.
She went on happily talking about her exotic shells till they were
interrupted again by Sidney, this time calling them across to
admire a particularly tasteless shell box his sisters had just bought.
It was entirely covered with what Miss Lambe had just described
as clumsy and common shells and had "Brinshore" inscribed on
the lid in tiny pebbles.
While Sir Edward talked of its "frangible appearance" camou-
flaging an "adamantine construction" and racked his brains for a
suitable quotation about shells, Sidney silently passed the box
around for inspection. The Miss Beauforts agreed it was
exquisite; Miss Denham thought their own villagers should be
encouraged to produce similar boxes with "Sanditon" on the lid.
Miss Brereton allowed it to be pretty; Miss Lambe faltered and,
whispering it was "very interesting," retreated into her usual
silence. Charlotte, rejoicing in having avoided all comment on
the box when it was dutifully praised by everyone else, realised
rather too late that Sidney had not drawn Miss Lambe and herself
into the group from motives of consideration alone.
I do not think we have yet heard Miss Heywood's opinion," he
said with a polite bow in her direction which informed her he had
let her off over seaweed pictures merely to trap her more enter-
tainingly over shell-work boxes.
Charlotte now heartily regretted she had missed the opportu-
nity of emulating Miss Lambe's almost inaudible "Very interest-
ing." She began stammering that she was naturally, that of course
she had given her opinion, but found she could no longer avoid
doing so, Sidney having produced a lull in the general conversa-
tion by advancing towards her and holding out the box. She
took a fleeting glance up at him, saw the gleam of amusement in
his eyes and said with dignity,
"It is extremely pretty."
"You would not call it an -- ah -- unnecessary objeco"
Not at all, in this case," she replied, biting her lip to refrain from
laughing. She was willing to concede Sidney had outwitted her;
but she refused to look up at him in open acknowledgement of the
victory. She kept her own eyes very firmly on the box, deter-
mined to reserve her right to that measure of independence at
least. But Sidney, equally determined to impose his will on
anyone with whom he chose to exert himself, continued to
stand in front of her till in sudden embarrassment that everyone
must be watching them -- in a rush of confusion she was unable
to control -- Charlotte weakened and glanced up again.
She had frequently found the teasing expression of Sidney's eyes
could be completely exasperating, and had every intention of
meeting it with a blank look of innocent gravity. But before
she could check herself, she discovered she was smiling back at him
involuntarily and admitting that, exasperating or not, Sidney's
teasing gleam had quite become irresistible to her.
In that moment, as they stood smiling at one another, Charlotte
was conscious of several contradictory sensations, of which the
chief were these: annoyance with herself for being incapable
<1of>1 governing her own actions, satisfaction that Sidney had won
this very minor victory over her, amusement, embarrassment
-- an odd something between perturbation and pleasure -- and,
above all else, a flutter of singing, exclaiming, joyful spirits which
made her feel she had strayed somehow into a most unfamiliar
world.
And as Sidney turned away, a phrase he had used that morning
drummed suddenly in her ears: "Will you make no allowance for
the instinctive guidance of the hearo" Was <1this>1 what he had
meano Could such a thing happen to someone as sober and
sensible as herself? Could <1she>1 have so little control over her
own conduct that Sidney could make her behave according to his
will and not hers?
She told herself that indulging in this train of thought was folly
and tried to dispel the agitation such an idea had started up by
setting the trivial little incident in its proper perspective. She may
have been made to smile to order: it did not necessarily follow
that Sidney could force her into doing anything else. On their
homeward journey, for instance, if he were to suggest they adopt
the same seating arrangements, if he were to stretch out an im-
perious hand to help her up on to the box -- it was very possible
she would instinctively obey him; and arguments and reasoning
would occur to her far too late to be of any avail. Had not this
already happened to her on their outward journey? She had
tertainly allowed Sidney to overrule her own judgement then
although she neither respected his motives nor approved of his
plans. But surely now she realised the weakness and inconsistency
of such behaviour, it would be the easiest thing in the world to
rectify io
Studying herself with honesty and recognising the amazing
influence Sidney had somehow acquired over her before she was
aware of it Charlotte's next reaction was to try to counteract
it by concentrating on his very obvious defects of character and
reciting them over to herself: he was flippant, worldly, imprudent,
impetuous, domineering, officious, unrepulsable, irresponsible
and probably unreliable. But this catalogue of his faults only
made her smile more broadly than ever. When the seed of this
indulgence had been planted she could not say, but it had grown
untended into a flourishing and hardy tree which now branched
out to shelter every deficiency of his she could name: she was quite
certain he told any lie which came into his head. He was also,
she suspected, a most hardened flirt, who used compliments merely
to get his own way. She caught herself smiling again and realised,
with a reluctant but very sturdy regard for the truth, that her
detachment over Sidney parker's real character seemed to have
vanished; and her estimation of his qualities -- either good or
bad -- was now completely worthless.
The thought suddenly occurred to her that this was perhaps
how Clara Brereton had managed to shut her eyes to all Sir
Edward's many defects. She must have grown a similar tree of
indulgence to shelter his foolishness, his pomposity, his conceit
and his selfishness, shading them from her own view with thicker
and thicker branches till they no longer mattered. Was this what
people meant when they said love was blind? Was this some
important key she herself had always missed in trying to under-
stand strange relationships, odd partnerships and human beings
in the generality?
Her astonishment increasing with every second at these unbid-
den thoughts and novel theories, Charlotte was obliged to turn
aside, to lean over the counter of sea shells in pretended employ-
ment, while she scolded her senses back into their proper places.
Her mind was now in too much confusion to think anything out
clearly. She was uncertain of her own judgement, mistrustful of
her own feelings and unwilling to think any more along these
lines.
But her self-possession gradually returned and with it a
heightened perception of all that was ridiculous in allowing herself
to become engrossed in her own concerns in the midst of her
present companions and present surroundings. She looked about
her, struggling for composure. She was standing in a crowded
little seaside curio shop, in broad daylight; and there were people
chattering all round her with a buzz, a restlessness and an
indecision as the large party began to split up in one of the
inevitable divisions of such etcursions.
"But we must see more of Brinshore," complained Miss
Denham, tired of standing about in a group. "Who will join me
on a walk of exploration?"
Sidney, to whom this was chiefly addressed, declared himself
very willing and suggested Miss Denham sort out the walking
party while he remained in the shop to complete his sisters'
purchase.
"Oh yes, we must all return to the beach and search for seaweed"
was Miss Beaufort s rejoiner and Oh, certainly" was her sister's.
"I simply cannot wait to make our collection and experiment
over pressing seaweed for <1our>1 pictures]"
Whether others besides Miss Denham disliked the prospect of
travelling home in carriages full of seaweed or preferred more
private inland routes, the principle of separation was now taken
up and canvassed by many; and Miss Diana was energetic in
promoting her own scheme for dividing up the party even further.
Anxious to get back to the inn and organise a cold collation, she
insisted both her sister and Miss Lambe should accompany her
and have all the benefit of a short rest. "They could enjoy some
leisure while she neglected herself for the convenience of every-
body else."
And Miss Heywood also happening to fall under her scrutiny
just as this little party was setting off, Miss Diana was struck by
her bewildered appearance; and Charlotte was so kindly pressed
to join them that there was no refusing.
Despite her own preoccupation, she was able to render valuable
service to Miss Diana when they reached the inn. The necessity
for this arose from the unlikely circumstance of Miss parker-s
being stung on the nose by a bee as they entered the inn yard.
"Oh, poor Susan, what is to be done? Take her, take her,
Miss Heywood] No, no, catch Miss Lambe -- I am sure she is
about to faint."
Roused most unexpectedly from her reverie by the sudden
commotion, Charlotte could not at first understand what had
happened and Diana's exclamations made the situation no clearer.
"Oh, my poor Susan, how grieved I am for your nerves] Will
they stand up to such a trial? But l must make myself useful.
I must be off to fetch assistance," remaining, nevertheless, to stroke
her sister's shoulders affectionately but rather helplessly. "Ah]
what is to be done?"
As far as walking and talking went, Miss Diana was competent
to deal with the everyday management of their affairs, but faced
by an unexpected crisis, she only wrung her hands and talked
on.
"Poor dear Susan is always so prone to such accidents. You
would scarcely believe it -- whenever she has a day's health,
some insect attacks her or some obstacle trips her tip. Some-
thing is always at hand to undermine her constitution. But what
is to be done now? And was it a bee or a wasp?"
"It was a bee. I saw it," said Miss Lambe calmly and very
definitely. "Wasps fly faster, they make more noise, have longer
shapes and no yellow underneath." And Charlotte felt an im-
mediate and implicit trust in both her claim to identify insects and
her ability to refrain from fainting. She also had no hesitation in
assuming command now she properly understood the nature of the
crisis.
"My younger brothers have often been stung by bees," she told
Miss Diana. "It <1is>1 painful but there is no real cause for alarm.
Lean on my arm, Miss Parker. We can do nothing till you sit
down and allow me to examine it."
Between them, she and Miss Lambe led Miss Parker into the
inn-parlour; and despatching the gaping landlord to find am-
monia and a clean piece of linen, Charlotte coaxed their patient
to the sofa.
"There, lie still and let me see. l can relieve the pain a little,
if you will let me withdraw the sting. It is reaIly only a very fine
hair; but if I can pull it out, you will feel much better."
"Yes, yes," agreed Diana, hovering about. "Have you sent the
landlord for a potion? l do not know at all what to suggest in
this case. Rose water perhaps? Or a tincture of mallow leaves?
Such an accident has never occurred to <1us>1 before. But it is
always best to take medicines lying down -- much the best thing
to adopt a posture that makes them slow in travelling through
the bodly instead of hurrying them through post. Oh dear if only
the bee had stung poor Susan in the ear, I could have made a
suggestion -- a roasted onion placed in the ear once cured Fanny
Noyce of an ear-ache almost immediately. She wrote and told
me; and I have been waiting ever since for one of us to get the
ear-ache so we could test it out for ourselves. But a nose] I
know little of noses]"
While she was talking, Charlotte managed to soothe Miss
Parker sufficiently to extract the bee sting.
"I hope l have relieved her a little already," she said, straighten-
ing up. "If she can now lie quietly and we dab on some of the
ammonia the landlord brings, she will be quite comfortable in a
few hours. lt is only a question of time and patience. There is
nothing further we can do."
But Miss Diana continued to do a great deal in an ineffectual
way, pestering the landlord about leaves of elder, red dock leaves,
mallow leaves and mutton suet, intent on discovering if any or
all of these were readily available in case they should suddenly
prove useful. She was so obviously incapable of finding out at
the same time what the inn larder could afford in the way of cold
meat, that Charlotte quietly arranged that too before allowing
her own thoughts to engross her again.
By this time her head had become so full of Sidney Parker (as
it had been rather less consciously for the past week) she had lost
the power to concentrate on anything but essentials. The
incident of the bee-sting had revived her practical instincts for a
brief period, but now they sank again under a weight of con-
flicting thoughts and emotions. And though common sense
directed that she must not excite the suspicion of others by her
silence and lack of spirits, her mind was so busily engaged that
she was not always aware of her own behaviour. She also took
little notice of her surroundings. She observed very little of
Brinshore, the inn, or any of her companions; and the remainder
of their stay there passed in a fever of growing impatience on her
side to discover whether they would drive home in exactly the
same way -- and whether she should or should not object to this?
Nobody had yet noticed or commented upon the disappearance
of one of their carriages; and so far as Charlotte could make out,
neither Sidney, Henry Brudenall nor Clara Brereton intended
to draw anybody's attention to it. Was it for <1her>1 to involve them
in the embarrassment of a general discussion on the subjeco
She could readily imagine Diana's exclamations, Sir Edward's
objections and his sister's astonishment; and she did not blame
Sidney for wishing to avoid explanations about Mr. Brudenall's
personal circumstances with the entire party.
There was, Charlotte told herself, no serious impropriety in
the mode of travel Sidney had chosen. There would be none at
all if he discussed the whole incident openly, maintained that the
Parker carriage had broken down, and submitted to new seating
arrangements for the journey back. But Sidney appeared deter-
mined to support Henry Brudenall's spirits on the way home as
well, Miss Brereton apparently did not object to travelling with
him and while these three continued to preserve a reticent silence,
Charlotte felt quite unequal to exposing them all to the curiosity of
the others by raising the subject herself. But she dreaded lest
some mischance should bring on discovery and had many more
doubts and many misgivings as the afternoon advanced.
But she need not have worried. Diana was too concerned over
her sister to put up any opposition to her brother's plans for the
journey home, everyone else seemed too fatigued by their exer-
tions in chasing walking partners for the day to pursue them
further as driving companions; and nobody objected when Sidney
began his usual ploy of hurrying them off to their destination
before they had time to decide how they wished to travel there.
"We have overspent our day in Brinshore by an hour already,"
he began, raising the subject and consulting his watch at the same
time. "And this evening there is not even a moon to help us.
l have ordered the carriages to be brotight round. It would be
best -- do you not agree, Diana? -- if we travel back in the same
order as we set out -- a deal of time and trouble saved in discuss-
ing any rearrangement] And I am, in any case, determined to
drive last."
It was done. He had despatched them all and was holding his
hand down to Charlotte before she had let go her breath in
suspense that he would not achieve it.
"Well, Miss Heywood," he said as he guided his horses carefully
out of the inn yard. "What a fine day this has been for you. All
the opportunities for observing people you could possibly want."
"Observing people?" Charlotte realised she had observed
almost nothing throughout the entire day. She recollected now
that the morning's drive had opened with the embarrassment of
Clara Brereton's unexpected confession. Her chief wish then had
been to avoid Miss Brereton for the remainder of the day -- and
she had scarcely given another thought to <1that>1 problem] She
could also dimly recall some surprise over Henry Brudenall's
sudden change in spirits -- and then her awakening interest in
Miss Lambe. But all had been sunk in her own preoccupations.
"I do not really think -- " she began slowly. "Was there some-
thing of great interest that I missed?"
The guarded glance of enquiry Sidney directed at her brought
a quick blush to her cheeks; but she had the impression his mind
must be very differently engaged.
"Oh come now, Miss Heywood, you are the observer. l am
so busy directing, I often miss such details as you would inevitably
notice. But surely it was a day of great promise for your powers."
He paused again, but Charlotte still could not trust herself to
speak with sufficient composure.
"Well then, let me see what I had much amusement in observ-
ing myself," went on Sidney. "Sir Edward, for instance. Did
he not give <1you>1 the benefit of Lord Byron's "dark blue seas"?
He did so with practically everyone else. And the Miss Beauforts
so vociferous in proclaiming the latest craze, even though, in this
case, it was as unprepossessing as seaweed. Susan, as usual,
suffering from a ludicrous accident; Diana scolding, vapouring
and organising everything into chaos. Miss Denham sulky because
Henry and I kept our distance; and Arthur, like the immature
youth he is, snuffing about everyone's heels in the manner of a
joyful puppy. I thought we were all behaving very much in
character and offering great scope for a detached observer like
yourself to laugh at us all."
"No," admitted Charlotte. "The only people I observed closely
were not behaving in character at all."
"Indeed] And whom were you observing so closely?"
Charlotte had, in fact, observed nobody but herself; but almost
at random, she named Clara Brereton and Adela Lambe as the
two people who had interested her most during the day. As soon
as she had spoken, she regretted it, hoping Sidney would not
enquire why Miss Brereton had excited her particular curiosity.
But he only laughed.
"Miss Brereton and Miss Lambe] What a blow that is to my
vanity]" sighing in mock disappointment. "Here was l hoping
that if you were overlooking everyone else today, you might at
least have been concentrating in unravelling my character to your
satisfaction."
Charlotte could not be made comfortable by this speech. That
was impossible. Nor could she think of anything to say in reply.
"Ah well, I am afraid you have now missed your opportunity,"
Sidney said lightly. "And I must ask you to suspend any judge-
ment on <1me>1 till I return from London."
"Are you going to London?" Charlotte demanded; and the
sudden stab of disappointment would have told her -- if she had
not admitted it to herself already -- that Sidney's presence in
Sanditon was of increasing importance to her. "When are you
going?"
"Early tomorrow morning. Have I not mentioned it before?"
"No," said Charlotte. "I suppose there was no reason why you
should."
The dissatisfaction she felt at his announcement of this sudden
departure for London was almost as much over his character as
his coming absence. Vanity, extravagance, love of change, that
restlessness she had noted in all the Parkers, the family failing --
to be always doing something, always moving about -- heedless-
ness of others: he became liable to all these additional charges.
It did not accord with the unselfish warmth of friendship towards
Henry Brudenall she believed she had discerned in him. Now that
his friend had survived his cousin's wedding day, was he intending
to abandon him without further compunction? Would he aban-
don all his friends with the same ease and the same indifference?
Charlotte was conscious that her distress at this news was far
too excessive and tried to overcome it. Her spirits were certainly
depressed; but she could still exert herself to appear unconcerned.
And though her complexion varied, she was soon able to say in a
tolerably disengaged tone,
"And when will you be coming back?"
"Ah, that I cannot definitely say. My business in London is
rather complicated -- and has become more so from my having
postponed it several days already. l dare say l might manage to
come back and collect Henry within a week or ten days."
He did not sound particularly concerned over what Henry
would do for entertainment during his absence. And when she
tried to imagine what he himself would be doing during those
ten days, her mind could only conjure up a vision of some unknown
and fashionable world. She had inferred -- from Sidney himself
-- that London was a world of glamour, excitement, activity,
amusement and all the attractions of urbane wit and casual rela-
tionships; and she knew this was very far from the world of
peaceful fixity and of stable rural values to which she herself
belonged. For she had also inferred that London was a world
of endlessly false appearanccs, in which manners were perhaps
a substitute for morals: a place easily given over to cold deception,
manipulation and exploitation. Why had it never occurred to
her that Sidney's background -- his natural values -- were so
totally dissimilar from her own?
She was extremely angry with herself for not having thought
along these lines before; for not having realised that, all day, she
had been unconsciously encouraging and indulging sentiments
which she should have been repressing. She did not attempt to
deny that Sidney stood very high in her esteem. But she had
almost succeeded in convincing herself they could hardly share
one opinion of any importance in common, when he turned to her
and said cheerfully,
"And so, Miss Heywood, as this is to be our last meeting for
some time, how shall we set about enjoying io Do you want
speed or rational conversation or a combination of both?"
And forgetting everything else in an instant, she determined to
enjoy Sidney's company while it remained hers to enjoy; and
though perhaps their journey back to Sanditon afforded not quite
the same light-hearted pleasure as the journey out, she stored and
treasured those two hours the more thoroughly in the foreknowl-
edge that they would have to last her in memories for some time
to come.
CHAPTER 21
A SLEEPLESS NIGHT spent examining her own conduct and com-
ing to terms with her own feelings was so unusual an event for
Charlotte that she expected the next day would exact its toll in
reactions of lethargy and discontent -- even perhaps in unwel-
come second thoughts which were only bound to confuse her,
And great was her surprise, when the morning sun at last crept
into her room, to discover she was already wide-awake -- and
awake, moreover, with a very curious sense of beginning to live so
intensely that she was a little frightened.
The main window of her bedroom overlooked the driveway;
and, a sudden clatter of horses' hooves below drawing her to it
while she was dressing, she looked down at an oblique angle
through the gauze curtain to Sidney's neat carriage pausing for
a moment outside the front porch. By craning her neck in an
absurd and undignified way, she could even see part of Sidney's
profile. He was talking to Morgan, leaning down to hand him
something, laughing, turning his carriage and driving off again
through the gates of Trafalgar House.
Standing tiptoe on her bare feet, she watched the top of his
head recede into the distance till it disappeared from view over
the downs. And although she smiled at herself in her folly of
standing half-dressed behind a window curtain in the early morn-
ing breeze from the sea, not all her scolding at being such a
simpleton could have made her turn away till she was certain no
more distant hills might bring the carriage again into view.
She felt ridiculously light of heart as she finished dtessing; and
had to stop several times on the staircase to compose her looks
into their normal sober pattern before she felt equal to showing
herself to her hosts at the breakfast table.
On entering the room, she wondered if she had in fact succeeded.
A certain constraint in the greetings of both Mr. and Mrs. Parker
troubled her; and as she took her place at the table, she was
uncomfortably aware that they seemed to be staring at her rather
curiously. But this was almost immediately resolved by Mr.
Parker's handing her a parcel and saying in his eager, inquisitive
way,
"Well now, Miss Heywood, this is for you and we neither of us
can imagine what is in it] Sidney called early this morning, took
us in his way on setting out for town -- and <1he>1 left this packet
for you. I was never more surprised in my life] Not even
downstairs when I heard the commotion -- shouting in the drive-
way and Morgan rushing to the door in his shirt sleeves. "I
forgot to leave in this parcel,' calls Sidney from his carriage. "Yes,
sir,' says Morgan, "I will give it to Mr. parker as soon as he comes
down." "No, no, not for my brother," cries Sidney. "For Miss
Heywood. I am leaving the parcel for Miss Heywood. Only
the small booklet is for my brother." By that time, you know,
I had reached the front steps and tried to ask him what he meant.
But Sidney was turning his horses round and could not hear me.
He would only laugh. "Well, Tom, I am off. See that Miss
Heywood gets her parcel." So, of course, we have been wondering
ever since what it could be that Sidney has left for you."
He held out the small parcel, carefully wrapped and tied, and
accompanied by a letter thrust under the string. There could be
no doubt of his burning curiosity with regard to the contents.
Even Mrs. parker, in quieter fashion, appeared wary and worried
over this impulsive gesture of her brother-in-law in sending a letter
and a gift to their young guest.
Very conscious of their intent observation, Charlotte accepted
the parcel, laid it aside, extracted the letter and opened it. Know-
ing she would have to read it aloud to satisfy Mr. Parker, she had
some misgivings herself; and from her still imperfect knowledge of
Sidney's character, was dreading what it might prove to contain.
She glanced over it.
<1Dear Miss Heywood,>1
<1Forgive this hurried note. I could not resist buying the
accompanying gift in Brinshore yesterday. I believe I
intended it at the time as a present for my brother, but on
reflection, have decided he might not appreciate it, and will
have to content himself with the "Guide to Watering Places"
which t had already purchasedfor him. Moreover, as I was
indeedlucky enough to findan exact replica of the object my
sisters bought, it now occurs to me that my own family are
well provided with mementoes of Brinshore. Your own
<1admiration was so clearly expressed that I feel I can do no
better than bestow my rash purchase on you. I cannot, in
any case, take it to London, as it is too fragile to Pack. And
you, I am sure, will agree such an "extremely pretty" and
"necessary box deserves better than to be broken.
Yours etc. Sidney Parker.>1
Su pressing a smile, Charlotte handed the letter to Mrs. Parker,
and cautiously unwrapping the layers of paper, revealed the small
box, labelled "Brinshore."
"What's this? What"s this?" cried Mr. Parker. "A box all
covered with shells? And why does it have Brinshore on it in
those little coloured pebbles? What does one do with io And
what can Sidney mean sending such a thing to Miss Heywood?"
"Sidney says he meant to give it to you," said Mrs. Parker,
looking up from the letter. "It is clear enough what his intentions
<1were.>1 So exactly his sense of humour] He thinks it would have
been very amusing to give you a box with Brinshore written on
it." She handed the letter to her husband. "It is one of his
jokes."
"Then why did he give it to Miss Heywood?" demanded Mr.
Parker in bewilderment.
"Would you like io" offered Charlotte a little fearfully. Quite
suddenly she found she had become very possessive over the
ugly little box.
"Me? Like a useless box labelled <1Brinshore?>1 No, no. Sid-
ney is quite in the right there. "On reflection, I have decided he
might not appreciate it." Very proper. But let me see it. So
this is the type of thing Brinshore goes in for] Do they think
<1that>1 will attract visitors? Yes, yes, I see it is one of Sidney's
jokes, as Mary says. But good Lord] I would not have such a
thing in the house. Ah] so Susan and Diana bought one too --
precisely what they would do, of course. My sisters are very
worthy women, Miss Heywood, but without a scrap of taste to
share between them. You should see some of the knick-knacks
they keep about their house -- tables crammed with ornamental
pill-boxes and extravagant gewgaws. lt does not surprise me in
the least to find them adding to the number. Well, it is funny, I
suppose. "Too fragile to pack.' And did you really call it an
extremely pretty box"?"
"I believe l did <1say>1 so," admitted Charlotte. "Your sisters had
already bought one and the Miss Beauforts were admiring it --
and Sir Edward -- in short, out of politeness, I remember saying
something of the sort because l could not very well avoid it."
"Ha] I see how it all was. Many a time have I been forced to
admire some hideous thing Diana has bought and Sidney has
teased me about it afterwards. He can never resist these little
attempts to be humorous at other people's expense."
The parkers had decided to laugh at Sidney's unexpected letter
to Miss Heywood; and the box was now firmly established as one
of Sidney's jokes, to be looked at and smiled at over their break-
fast, but not given another thought. And Charlotte, who also
smiled at it, was not really surprised to discover it meant far more
than a joke to her. She was grateful the box had been presented
in such a way that she could keep it without arousing anybody's
suspicions. But she was forced to admit the Parkers' assessment
of the incident came closer to Sidney's own intentions. He had
bought the box on a sudden impulse without thinking of her at
all; he had written the note in a hurry just as he was setting off for
London; and provided the fun was enjoyed somewhere, he did not
mind who in particular claimed ownership of the box.
"He has played another such joke on me," said Mr. Parker
taking a small booklet from his pocket. "This <1Guide to Watering
Places>1 he has left for me -- all heavily underscored in what
Sidney considers the appropriate places. WelI, of course, I knew
such an annual handbook existed but have never bothered trying
to get Sanditon included in it. And here, you see, he has turned
down the corner to bring my attention to it -- Brinshore, coming
straight after Brighton. Two columns of it]"
"But perhaps it would be no bad idea to arrange for a mention
of Sanditon in such a book," Mrs. parker suggested. "Surely
many people we cannot know of must consult a library or buy
this book before deciding on a seaside holiday?"
"Nonsense, my dear Mary. The sort of people who consult such
rubbish are not the sort we want encouraged at Sanditon. What
facts, what truth can be expected from a publication like this?
It shows no discrimination at all. Though they may be trying
to puff up Brinshore, what have they actually found to praise?
Listen to this," reading in a sarcastic tone: " "The possibility of
pleasant living without extortionate expense may, in this com-
paratively retired and humble spot, be secured in a manner more
compatible with the rigid rules of economy than at places of more
public and splendid resort."
"But I see nothing to censure in that," said Mrs. Parker mildly.
"Brinshore knows it cannot attract the fashionable and is making
a bid to secure the respectable invalid."
"Oh, undoubtedly," agreed Mr. Parker, still scanning his book-
let. "And in almost illiterate language," reading again scornfully:
" Another advantage particularly advantageous ( <1Who,>1 outside of
Brinshore, would descend to so clumsy a phrase as thao) is the
early hour at which public amusements commence and terminate
-- a matter of more importance than is generally imagined in
preserving actual health and in promoting its restoration." Ah]
Sidney has added a marginal comment to that," turning the page
at a right angle and trying to make out the scrawl. " "Sanditon
has, of course, an advantage even more advantageous to invalids in
the complete absence of any public amusements at all." Impudent
young dog]"
He threw the booklet down on the table in disgust. Mrs.
Parker picked it up and began searching the two columns for more
factuaI information than her husband had read out. She soon
found one item of interest.
"lt says here that Brinshore has just developed the amenity of a
new Marine Walk for its visitors. Now <1that>1 is the sort of thing
which might really attract visitors. Did you walk along it yester-
day, Miss Heywood?"
"No, I-- that is -- I was not aware of it," said Charlotte in
some confusion, rather ashamed to admit she had noticed so little
of anything in Brinshore, and hoping she was not now to be called
upon to confirm every statement set down to its credit in the
booklet.
"There, you see]" crowed Mr. parker triumphantly. "Brin-
shore boasts of one walk but nobody notices it. Sanditon
abounds in walks -- "
"Then you should let people know about them," Mrs. Parker
advised him calmly. "Look, here is a list of Brinshore's chief
attractions for anyone who likes to read: Good prospects for
restored health and spirits; a resort physician and experienced
apothecary always at hand; bathing highly favourable in six well-
equipped bathing machines; pleasure boats kept for hire; sedan
chairs, bath chairs, wheel chairs, horses, gigs and donkeys to be
had upon reasonable terms; imporrant aquatic and inland
excursions; possibilities for geologists, fossilists, naturalists and
collectors of seaweed and sea shells; Assembly Rooms -- ball,
billiard and card rooms -- located in one compact group; regular
fortnightly Assemblies held throughout the season. Sidney has
underlined that amenity, naturally."
"Let me see, let me see," cried Mr. Parker. "As if Sanditon
could not do better in listing attractions. l could fill at least four
columns without having to huff and puff the way Brinshore does.
I would start with one simple statement: "There is no reason why
Sanditon should not, in a little time, rank among the most attrac-
tive of watering places.' And then, you know, go on to list our
own special advantages: Highly favoured situation, being defended
by our own range of hills from every wind but the south, salubrity
and mildness of our atmosphere, purity of water, rich fertility of
the soil, diversity and beauty of our scenery. This would make
Brinshore's list seem feeble indeed] And where are <1their>1 im-
portant aquatic and inland excursions? No mention, of course, of
what they are in detail] Have <1they>1 anything like Fordcliff
Abbey in the vicinity? Have <1they a>1 Peak Hill or a chesil over
their stream? Have they constructed tea rooms on <1their>1 beach?
They would never dare to construct tea rooms without a good
dish of tea to be served in them. How was the tea at your inn
yesterday, Miss Heywood? Brackish taste? Insupportable, no
doubt ? "
I do not think I noticed anything amiss," confessed Charlotte.
"The tea seemed, that is, l think -- "
"probably they import inland water for tea at the inn," Mr.
parker agreed comfortably. "You would certainly have noticed
it otherwise. No sweet water to be had anywhere near Brinshore.
However, I really must speak to Lady Denham about developing
a Marine Walk. Though of course we shall call ours an Esplan-
ade]"
And fired with sudden enthusiasm, Mr. Parker seized hold of
the <1Guide to Watering Places>1 and retired for the morning into his
study to scan it for further ideas, and to compose a suitable entry
on Sanditon for submission to the responsible editors.
Charlotte, finishing her breakfast, reflected on the peculiar
satisfaction to be derived from witnessing a really clever director
outwitting someone rather less gifted, and the delight with which
Sidney would have greeted his success in manipulating his brother
-- even from a distance and without any persuasive arguments --
into doing precisely the opposite of what he intended.
But when she picked up her own box and carefully carried it
off to her room -- not forgetting the accompanying letter -- it
never occurred to her that she, too, might be doing something
which Sidney intended.
A young lady's exact estimate of her cwn charms would be a
difficult matter to determine but Charlotte certainly never
estimated hers as meriting the full treatment of one of Sidney's
intricate little plots. If she could have brought herself to believe
he had purchased the box especially for her, and devoted a great
deal of thought to composing a seemingly hasty letter which made
it possible for her to accept it, she would have valued the gift even
more.




CHAPTER22
CHARLOTTE had every intention of spending her day -- and per-
haps several succeeding days -- with Mrs. Parker in her new
greenhouse. Though lacking her husband's general enthusiasm,
Mrs. Parker had developed a quiet fanaticism of her own in
becoming a dedicated gardener. She grew all her own flowering
plants from seed, experimented with new varieties, and was rarely
content to hand anything over to the gardener till it became too
large for her to house or for him to damage by ill-treatment.
She was always busy transplanting small seedlings from crowded
boxes into a succession of ever larger pots, where she watered
them, tended them and coaxed them into the flourishing bushes
she was prepared to abandon.
Happy enough in her greenhouse to pass all her mornings in
solitary cultivation, Mrs. Parker welcomed any genuine offers
of useful assistance; but her mild countenance assumed its nearest
approach to a frown whenever she was interrupted in her own
labours.
Charlotte observed this frown and a gentle sigh, both being
suppressed, as Lady Denham pushed open the greenhouse door
that morning.
"Lord bless me, here you are at it again] Morgan told me I
should find you here. No, no, leave your gardening gloves on,
Mrs. Parker. I am not one to stand on ceremony with my
neighbours. I will not have you regarding this as a morning call
-- just taking you in on my usual walk and come to pass the time
of day; no need at all for me to sit down, I assure you. Miss Clara
is off to change her books again, and I did not choose to walk
so far. Well, it <1is>1 a pity you have no room for a little bench or
two in here] Oh, my dear Mrs. Parker, I can just as easily stand.
Do not, I beg of you, come back to the house on my account.'
But Mrs. Parker had already laid down her tools, taken off her
gloves and nodding pleasantly to Charlotte to follow, was leading
the way out of the greenhouse.
'Your young visitor is not such a gadabout, I see,' said her
ladyship approvingly as they walked towards the house. 'Her
head seems in no danger of being turned to giddy nonsense like
others I could name. With all these young people making merry
in Sanditon nowadays, Miss Clara is become so fidgetty and
restless -- never settling down properly at home as she ought.
And where she finds time to read all these books she borrows
from the library is beyond me] I declare one and twenty is a
most trying age for young ladies -- their minds full of nothing but
clothes and social pleasures. The Miss Beauforts, I can see, are
cut from exactly the same piece of cloth.'
Mrs. Parker made one of her amiable remarks on the happiness
and high spirits of young people in general which did nothing to
distract Lady Denham from her own particular grievance.
"Oh aye, that's all very true, I dare say. But I tell you what
Mrs. Parker, <1some>1 young people consult nobody's pleasure but
their own. However, I am not a woman who minds owning to
making mistakes. I should have seen from the first that one of my
older nieces would prove more of a steady companion to <1me.>1
But it's clear enough now Miss Clara is too young and flighty to
settle down with me forever. Still no harms' done that can't be
mended. My original invitation to her was for six months only,
you know; and you may be sure I mentioned the probability of
one of the other girls coming to take her place after that. Yes,
yes, it is high time I made the exchange.'
"Indeed]' said Mrs. Parker with some surprise. "You are
contemplating an actual exchange among your nieces? This is
surely most unexpected. I had no notion Miss Brereton would
be leaving you.'
"Oh, that is still quite between ourselves. I have told <1her>1 I
will invite her cousin, Miss Elizabeth, for a few weeks. And
then, you know, I am still free to make up my mind between
them,' with a self-satisfied smile at her own sagacity. 'You may
be sure, Mrs. Parker, I am not one to be pushed into anything
against my will; and those persons who fancy they can pull the
wool over my eyes will soon find they are mistaken] I can't be
expected to be feeding and housing two nieces where one is
enough for my own convenience. So if Miss Elizabeth makes
herself useful and takes over all Miss Clara's little duties -- well,
then we shall see.'
This sudden eagerness of Lady Denham's to exchange one niece
for the other made Charlotte wonder if some inkling of Sir Ed-
ward's partiality for Miss Brereton had at last penetrated that
suspicious but oddly insensible mind. Her keenest attention was
aroused but she knew no useful purpose would be served by taking
part in the conversation herself. She would have to rely on Mrs.
Parker to extract all the particulars from her guest. But as Lady
Denham had settled herself into a comfortable armchair for a
lengthy visit, a full airing of both her suspicions and her selfish
schemes seemed likely to follow without much encouragement.
"I had always understood Miss Brereton had now made her
home with you,' Mrs. Parker observed after a little hesitation.
"Will she not perhaps be somewhat upset at being thus turned
back on her relatives?''
"Oh, as to that, I cannot say. She may even be glad to make
the change. She has hinted often enough Miss Elizabeth would
suit me much better than herself. But I can't be worying myself
over Miss Clara's views on the matter. I am on the lookout for
a fixed -- a <1permanent>1 -- companion for myself; and who's to
say Miss Clara may not even decide on marrying one of these
days? And what shall I do then, I ask you, if I have made no
other arrangements? I can't be left at a moment's notice to run
all these errands and do all the tasks I have been busy teaching
Miss Clara to perform."
Why the possibility of Clara's eventual marriage should never
have occurretl to Lady Denham before puzzled Charlotte as much
as this tardy recognition of the problem now.
"Naturally, Miss Brereton is bound to marry some day," Mrs.
Parker said very sensibly. "Good-natured and gentle as well as
beautiful -- who can doubt she will not be sought after as a wife?-'
"I was certain <1you>1 would think so," replied Lady Denham, with
one of her shrewdest glances. "It was that brother-in-law of
yours who first put me in mind of it. To be sure, Sir Edward
plays at gallantry with Miss Clara too; but I know <1he>1 can mean
nothing by it. He must marry for money] But when a young
man who can afford to marry where he chooses starts smirking
in her direction -- "
' You refer, I collect, to my brother-in-law, Sidney," said Mrs.
Parker, who did not like this type of gossip. "I do not think you
should refine too much on his behaviour. His manners, I am
afraid, are sometimes over-insinuating but he seldom means
anything by them. Can I offer you some refreshment, Lady
Denham?" And she rang the bell as though putting an end to
this subject.
"Well there may be nothing in it, as you say; but it put me in
mind of the danger all the same," continued Lady Denham,
impervious to hints of such subtlety. "And I have no scruple in
owning I have taken a great fancy to Mr. Sidney -- his manners
do him no harm in my eyes. On no, his manners are very civil
indeed, most obliging and respectful; he even insisted on stepping
in to pay a farewell call on me last night when he drove Miss
Clara home. Upon my word, he always says and does everything
that is proper. On my merely happening to mention my latest
plan of writing to invite Miss Elizabeth to Sanditon, he most
kindly offered to collect the letter on his way to London this
morning. So many days saved in the usual correspondence by
post] She will now receive my letter by this evening -- may even
be able to arrange her journey within a week or two. For as Mr.
Sidney pointed out, he himself will be back in Sanditon before
then and can bring me her reply."
Charlotte was interested to learn Sidney was still involved in
this scheme of bringing Miss Elizabeth Brereton to Sanditon; and
his connection with the affair intrigued her considerably. To
what extent his determined sponsoring of Miss Elizabeth had
weighed with Lady Denham she could only surmise; and she
wondered whether this new amendment of allowing her to
supplant Miss Clara entirely would take him by surprise. But
she had observed enough of Sidney's methods by now to rec-
ognise his contriving hand in the whole arrangement of the
visit.
Lady Denham, however, seemed unaware that Sidney had
directed her in any way at all; her own views on his skill at
management had taken quite a different turn, as became obvious
a few moments later when she observed gleefully,
"Oh yes, Mr. Sidney has already been very useful to me. And
I intend to turn his talents to even better account when he comes
back to Sanditon] I honestly think I can rely on him to help
me in carrying out any scheme I have in mind. That quickness he
has of understanding any ticklish little situation has quite delighted
me," dropping her voice and rushing on with an even greater
burst of confidence. "For you know, between ourselves, the
main reason I agreed to the use of my coach and horses yesterday
on that excursion to Brinshore was to throw Sir Edward and
Miss Lambe together for the whole day. He cannot afford to let
such an heiress slip through his fingers; and so l told him] Oh,
he knows well enough he must marry for money, but he has too
high an opinion of himself and thinks he can take his time about
it. <1He>1 won't make a push and fix Miss Lambe in a hurry unless
I help him into it] So I just gave Mr. Sidney the merest hint of
my plans -- told him I wanted Sir Edward to take charge of my
coach and suggested Miss Lambe as one of his passengers. And
now I hear from Miss Clara how discreetly it was all arranged --
not the slightest suspicion seems to have crossed <1her>1 mind that
Sir Edward and Miss Lambe sat together by my arrangement or
that Mr. Sidney parker was contriving it all to please me."
This additional complication in Sidney's seating arrangements
for the drive to Brinshore surprised Charlotte as well; and on
consideration, she was bound to admit it had been carried out
with such subtlety as to have aroused no curiosity at all. She
was not, however, inclined to think Lady Denham's schemes were
likely to have prospered by it. Neither at Brinshore nor anywhere
else had Miss Lambe or Sir Edward ever appeared to show the
slightest interest in each other.
"And I have another scheme in mind which is just as good,"
announced Lady Denham in a tone of great exultation. "But I
won t go dropping such broad hints about that to Mr. Sidney.
He is exactly the right age for settling down himself. And I have
decided he would do equally well for either Miss Clara or Miss
Esther. Both of them lack any fortune of their own so they need
to find a husband in comfortable circumstances. But" -- very
generously -- "I will leave him to make his own choice between
them. Young men in positions of easy independence like his do
not like to be guided to quite such an ettent."
The trend of this conversation was now making Mrs. Parker
extremely impatient. She was used to humouring Lady Denham
and very much in the habit of allowing her to ramble on about all
her own petty concerns. But her forbearance towards near
neighbours stopped short of encouraging them in idle specula-
tions about each other. After pointedly changing the subject
several times, she was distinctly relieved when their visitor finally
arose to depart.
"What a tiresome way of spending our morning]" she said to
Charlotte as they walked back to the greenhouse. "Well, thank
heaven she is gone and we can settle down to be comfortable again.
For, between ourselves," with a gentle smile as she parodied Lady
Denham. "I much prefer to talk about flowers than about people.
In perfect accord with one another, they pulled on their garden-
ing gloves and aprons and resumed their stations at opposite ends
of the long shelf, each busy with her own array of pots and her own
arrangement of thoughts. Charlotte's were almost entirely given
over to reflecting on what she had just heard. She regarded Lady
Denham's plans for a marriage between Sidney and Miss Denham
as ridiculous as her expectations for Sir Edward and Miss Lambe.
But her discernment of some attachment between Sidney and
Clara Brereton required more serious consideration.
There was certainly admiration on one side and a great wish to
please on the other, but Charlotte herself had distinguished little
beyond this. The rest appeared to her merely the suggestion of
Lady Denham's interested wishes. And she was less inclined to
believe in these from the very fact of their influence operating in a
contrary direction when Lady Denham dismissed Sir Edward's
much greater partiality for Miss Brereton in so arbitrary a manner.
"I know <1he>1 can mean nothing by it. He must marry for money]"
Such wilful blindness in one direction did not encourage credi-
bility in another.
Charlotte decided she was having rather less success in dis-
counting her own interested wishes. Though rendered suspicious
from the first by Sidney's warm commendation of Clara, she had
not of late been observing them so intently whenever they were
together. Her early surmises had all been on the side of Sidney's
developing a decided preference for Clara; but recently she had
been content to accept his own explanation for the interest he had
always shown in Clara, and to believe his own assertion that he
was merely enlisting her sympathetic cooperation to console his
friend.
She tried now, most resolutely, to remember what she had
actually seen and to separate it from both his statements and her
conjectures. There was that first walk through the woods to old
Sanditon and the mutual understanding Sidney and Clara had
very quickly established; his frequent calls during the following
week at Sanditon House; Clara's readiness to oblige him in taking
Pains over Henry Brudenall; and the recurrent meetings and
conversations both in Sanditon and Brinshore. But none of these
offered conclusive proof for supposing any sincere and serious
regard on one side or the other; and all had been openly con-
ducted in full view of the entire Sanditon community.
Against this, and from her own private knowledge, Charlotte
could produce one definite clue, which seemed to <1disprove>1 the
existence of any such attachment: Clara Brereton's confession to
her of a possible elopement. So desperate a plan indicated little
hope of Lady Denham approving her intended match -- and she
clearly had not the slightest objection to an engagement between
Sidney and Clara.
Had Charlotte known nothing of Clara's plans for an elopement,
she might have been inclined to agree with Lady Denham and the
Miss Parkers. Even as it was, she was certain some connection
-- some secret understanding -- between Sidney and Clara <1did>1
exist. That they were somehow both concerned in persuading
Lady Denham to invite Clara's cousin Elizabeth to Sanditon she
could not doubt. Had Sidney perhaps promised Clara his
cooperation in that direction in return for her services in respect
to Henry Brudenall?
It was a subject on which reflection would be long indulged and
must always be unavailing. And Charlotte determined she would
think of something else as she set about her tasks under Mrs.
Parker's directions. She enjoyed the monotony of this work
and the soothing, desultory conversation which accompanied it.
"This new strain of dahlia, I am told, comes from Chile -- or
was it Peru? Next year, I will be able to start them off earlier
from root cuttings."
"Yes, of course."
"I am so pleased with my fuchsias. How healthy they are
looking already. Such a profusion of buds. Be careful of the
leaves as you lift them."
"Yes, of course."
But Charlotte had scarcely got beyond deciding there must be
something in the very air of Sanditon which -- sooner or later --
caused everyone's behaviour to be dominated by some wild, leading
passion, and everyone else to ignore it in preoccupation with their
own concerns -- and had scarcely firmed the earth in two of the
new pots -- when Arthur's chubby features appeared round the
door of the greenhouse.
"Ah, you are only gardening, I see, Mary, so you will not mind
my interrupting you," he said, unwittingly offering Charlotte
further confirmation of her new theory. "I have come to ask Miss
Heywood if she will join myself and the Miss Beauforts on a
seaweed-collecting expedition."
"Seaweed collecting? I have never seen any seaweed on our
Sanditon shore."
"Not enough to wash up on the beaches," agreed Arthur, "but
Miss Beaufort thinks there may be some over by the rocks if we
search for it."
"But what does one do with io You search, you collect, and
then whao" This latest of seaside crazes bewildered Mrs. Park-
er. "Can you transplant io Would it grow anywhere else but
the sea?"
"The Miss Beauforts intend to frame it. And Sir Edward
Denham has promised to write some verses for the seaweed pictures
they are going to make. But I should like to identify it first,"
explained Arthur. "Everything is decided and we are all waiting
to set out. But you see, I am supposed to wade out if it is under
water, so of course I must take an extra pair of shoes -- and
some towels and dry socks. Miss Beaufort and Miss Letitia are
very obliging over all this; but I <1did>1 think as Miss Heywood --
well, as she is staying with you -- and we are already friends -- "
Charlotte saw his anxiety. He wanted protection from the
enthusiasm of the Miss Beauforts. Left to their direction alone,
he might easily be persuaded into catching an unnecessary cold.
But with her to watch over his interests, with her as a guarantee
the expedition did not involve him in futile exertion or foolhardy
enterprise, he would feel more comfortable.
"And I am sure Miss Heywood will be very glad to accompany
you," said Mrs. Parker understandingly. "You are quite right,
Arthur. A very sensible notion of yours. Miss Beaufort and
Miss Letitia, from what I have observed, are very good-humoured,
charming girls -- but not perhaps very practical. Miss Heywood
is exactly the addition you need to your party. And my plants
are always here. She can help me with them another day."
So, rather unwillingly, Charlotte took off her gardening apron
for the second time that morning and allowed Arthur to escort her
down the hill to the Terrace.
CHAPTER23
THE MISS BEAUFORTS , with considerable paraphernalia of col-
lecting baskets, drawing paper, crayons, pressing boards, green
eye shades and floating shawls, were eager to set off on their
expedition; but while loudly proclaiming their zeal for seaweed,
they were hesitant about leaving the Terrace before they had
gathered up more admirers than Arthur.
Sir Edward Denham, his sister and Miss Brereton stood in an
indecisive group, debating whether to join them. Miss Denham
seemed to prefer awaiting suggestions for some more interesting
pastime from the young men at the hotel. Miss Brereton gave no
opinion at all; and Sir Edward was being very eloquent in favour
of the seaweed excursion.
Charlotte, who now most sincerely wished to understand how
Clara Brereton could favour his suit, was determined to regard
Sir Edward with more sympathy than she had lately accorded
him; and with this laudable object in view attended to his con-
versation with his sister.
"But, my dear Esther," he was concluding. "There is no cer-
tainty our present procrastinatory conjuncture will culminate in
the authentication of your wishes. Our new friends seem dis-
inclined for their morning perambulations today. perhaps we
may discover that, like Burns's Highland Mary, they have forsaken
us."
This reference could equally and inappropriately have been ap-
plied to Burns's Jean, his Nancy or his Bonnie Lesley, Charlotte
reflected. She had long since renounced any attempt to under-
stand Sir Edward's quotations and reluctantly abandoned her new
resolution to understand <1him.>1 But as she doubted Henry
Brudenall would put in an appearance without Sidney Parker
there to insist on it, she hoped some activity might result from
supporting Sir Edward.
"I understand Mr. Parker has gone to London on business this
morning; and perhaps Mr. Brudenall finds occupation which keeps
him indoors."
The announcement had very nearly all the effect she intended,
broadening Sir Edward's smiles, deepening his sister's frowns and
spreading disappointment among the Miss Beauforts. Clara
Brereton alone took no share in the general surprise.
"Oh yes," she said calmly. "When I was telling you that Lady
Denham had consented to invite my cousin Elizabeth to visit us
for a few weeks, I forgot to mention it was Mr. Parker who was
carrying our letters up to London today. This should prove a
considerable help in speeding up the necessary arrangements."
There was a note of contentment in her voice, which spoke the
serenity of a mind more at ease with itself, and convinced Char-
lotte that Miss Brereton had recovered from her little fever of the
previous day and was prepared to postpone any decision over
eloping with Sir Edward till after her cousin's arrival in Sanditon.
While his reply of "Indeed yes, we are all eagerly anticipating Miss
Elizabeth's introduction among us" seemed to indicate he still did
not despair of a favourable outcome.
To Miss Denham however, the prospective arrival of another
Miss Brereton made no amends for the present departure of a
Sidney Parker; and she showed her ill-humour by exclaiming, --
"Well then] there is no point in standing about on the Terrace.
We may just as well walk along the shore with Miss Beaufort and
Miss Letitia," and relapsing into a silence of cold displeasure.
Sir Edward's delight was equally obvious as he contemplated
the unexpected felicity of a walk which would give him undis-
turbed monopoly -- he did not count Arthur -- over the entire
bevy of young ladies in Sanditon -- for even Lady Denham's
broadest hints had not led him to count Miss Lambe either. And
offering Miss Brereton first claim on his arm, he hurried them all
off the Terrace before they could change their minds.
But Sir Edward was out of luck. They were passing the hotel
on their descent to the sands, when Henry Brudenall not only
appeared himself -- but in the company of a most interesting
stranger, a young man so modishly dressed that the Miss
Beauforts both gaped. It was too much for Sir Edward to expect
any of his five young ladies to ignore this apparition. By
approaching Henry Brudenall immediately himself however, and
making a series of highly unnecessary enquiries about Sidney
Parker's journey to London, he did what he could to forestall any
introductions, hoping perhaps if he detained Mr. Brudenall for
long enough and left this new rival standing disconsolately about,
his own party would eventually walk on out of harm's way.
The stranger was not in the least deterred by this incivility.
Having mn a swift eye over the group before him, he made directly
for Charlotte, who was standing by herself, a little to one side of it,
deriving much critical amusement from Sir Edward's graceless
beh aviour.
"Henry is too busy to introduce me at the moment, so I see I
must do it for myself," he said with a friendly smile. "Reginald
Catton at your service. And <1you>1 must be Miss Heywood."
A good deal of Charlotte's astonishment was evident in her
face and he laughed very heartily at it.
"Oh] I was easily able to pick you out from everyone else.
I arrived late last night -- but not too late for Sidney to give me
a very thorough description of you. We sat up till midnight while
he went through the Sanditon notables and I yawned over every
Parker and Denham in the place. But it's as well Sidney insisted
on doing it then. He was away so early this morning I missed him
completely. Never one for getting up at those hours myself."
Charlotte's pleasure in learning that Sidney had bothered to
describe her to his friend far exceeded her surprise in being rated
as a notable of Sanditon. She would have been very interested
to hear what that description had been; and thinking it unlikely
Mr. Catton would volunteer more information himself, she did
her best to lead him back to the subject by saying smilingly,
"I hope Mr. Parker's description was not too uncomplimen-
tary?"
"Uncomplimentary? No, indeed] How could it have been?
I would most certainly repeat it all to you, if I could but remember
the details," he said cheerfully. And she perceived he had much
of his friend's frankness without his mental alertness. He seemed
to be trying to concentrate, to recall something; but then he
shruged his shoulders and gave it up. "The part I do remember
clearly, which was why I came straight towards you -- just the one
phrase that did stick in my mind -- something Sidney said about
'smiling grey eyes.' "
This small compliment could not fail to gratify. That Sidney
could have made such a remark without any idea of its being
carried back to herself was a much greater source of pleasure than
any of the compliments he had paid her in person. And though
it was tantalising to know there were others details locked up in
the recesses of Mr. Catton's mind, Charlotte was very satisfied
to have extracted this single tribute and willing to turn the
conversation on his own concerns.
Your arrival in Sanditon seems to be most unexpected. Did
you take a sudden idea into your head of visiting your friends?"
"It certainly was sudden," he agreed. "But scarcely my own
idea. Sidney sent his brother's groom over to Brighton ordering
me across. He wanted someone to keep Henry company while
he was off to London."
"His brother's groom? Parsons?"
"Yes. That's the fellow's name. Drove over yesterday.'
Charlotte stared. She found this piece of information difficult
to fit in with any previous interpretation of Sidney's arrangements
over the drive to Brinshore. His own explanation -- or the
several versions he had successively offered -- had never
attempted to include this new evidence. She herself had never
believed his original and very flattering excuse that he wished to
secure her company for the drive. She had <1almost>1 believed his
avowal that he wanted Henry to survive his cousin's wedding day as
effortlessly as possible. And she had conceded the plot to involve
Miss Brereton in the scheme was a very typical example of Sidney's
thoughtless frivolity. Even Lady Denham's contribution to the
day's arrangements she had regarded as mere fanciful embroidery
of his own plans -- a subsidiary trick Sidney was quite capable of
engrafting on to his main purpose.
But now it seemed the entire affair could be covered by a much
more simple explanation; and that he had invented a whole series
of unlikely and even conflicting stories with no more serious
object in view than freeing one carriage and despatching it on a
message to Brighton] And Charlotte began to wonder if there had
been anything more devious in it at all.
In retrospect the day in Brinshore offered a remarkable challenge
to her powers of observation. The more she heard about it, the
more or less she was able to read into it. But except for her own
personal involvement in vividly memorable interludes at distinct
and highlighted moments, the rest of the expedition was rapidly
becoming too vague to hold any meaning for her at all. She had a
sudden vision of Sidney's face and his quizzical, teasing expression:
"Well, Miss Heywood, what a fine day this has been for you]
All the opportunities for observing people you could possibly
want." But her own thoughts and feelings had occupied and flur-
ried her too much in Brinshore to permit taking proper notice of
others or sorting out aIl the various and separate incidents of
which the day had been composed.
She felt quite ashamed of her failure. That she, who prided
herself on her observation, should have been thus blinded for a
whole day -- and a day on which so much seemed to have been
happening. How humiliating to discover Sidney Parker had the
power of driving reason and clarity so far out of her head as to
render her own most prized abilities completely valueless] She
decided the full day in Brinshore was something she would have to
lie awake reconsidering for yet another evening. For the moment
she would do better to concentrate on trying to understand
Reginald Catton s own connection with it.
"You know, it is very strange," she said slowly, "but Mr.
Parker gave quite a different reason for sending parsons off in the
carriage yesterday."
-"Did he indeed? Oh well, there is no one like Sidney for
inventing complications and making everything as confusing as
possible for everyone else," said Mr. Catton, laughing a good deal
more than Charlotte thought necessary at such whimsical be-
haviour. "Besides, he always has a score of reasons for everything
he does. I doubt he is even capable of doing only one thing at a
time] Oh] you may be sure Sidney never has less than four pots
on the boil, three irons in the fire and as many sticks as he can
find heaped into it as well."
Charlotte felt that both this jumble of metaphors and Mr.
Catton's renewed laughter were rather excessive -- preventing
anything from being very clearly expressed -- but persevered in
her interrogation.
"It is also rather strange that Mr. Parker never mentioned
your coming to any of us yesterday."
"Oh well, he may have been uncertain <1then>1 whether I really
would come," he admitted quite frankly. '-He is always
accusing me of being fickle. But I promised I would help out
with Henry no matter what the inconvenience. And not many
of Sidney's friends would refuse to do something he asked. So
here I am. Must keep the horses harnessed up."
"The horses?" said Charlotte, considerably mystified.
"Why yes, the horses -- keep them harnessed -- a saying, you
know," explained Mr. Catton, with a comic look of alarm which
he quickly suppressed by beginning to laugh again even more
immoderately. "Have you not heard Sidney using the same
expression ? "
"Indeed I have not. What does it mean?"
"Mean? Oh, nothing of great importance. Just a saying we
have -- for fellows in Henry's situation, you know."
"I see. But -- "
They were here interrupted by Henry himself, whose approach
Mr. Catton welcomed with obvious relief. For some time and
with increasing chagrin Sir Edward had been observing the
stranger making it impossible for him to obstruct his inclusion
in the party, and had now resigned himself to allowing Henry to
perform the general introductions, and to giving his sister, Miss
Brereton, and the Miss Beauforts their share in these impertinent
attentions.
But when they resumed their walk a few minutes later, Reginald
Catton took the earliest opportunity of rejoining Charlotte, and
almost immediately embarked on a series of highly indiscreet
remarks.
"So that was Miss Denham] Predatory female -- Sidney
warned me. He said I would not be in the least danger from
anyone else -- could handle all the Miss Beauforts with ease --
but Miss Denham would be hanging about me forever if once she
caught sight of my barouche. I told the groom to keep it well
out of sight in the stables."
Charlotte was very amused. The style of Reginald's conversa-
tion had a faint flavour of Sidney's, reminding her of the first
evening she had spent in his company -- the very frank and
lighthearted comments he had passed on all his relations, and her
own embarrassment over trying to make adequate replies. But
she discovered that the consequences of keeping Sidney company
for a brief period meant she did not even try to look disapproving-
ly at his friend. And although she still felt she should be delivering
a reprimand, she could not help laughing outright at him
instead. ln return, he regarded her with great satisfaction.
"I can see we are going to deal famously together, Miss
Heywood. You understand my position I am sure. Very happy
to be of service to Henry, of course; but here I am marooned in
Sanditon till Sidney returns -- and what I shall do for my own
amusement, I cannot make out at all. So you must let me
know whenever I can be of assistance in any scheme you may
have in mind. I will be delighted to help you in organising it --
not that I have Sidney's finesse, but I shall do my best."
Charlotte was at a loss what to make of this speech and could
only suppose Reginald bracketed her with Sidney as a person
who derived amusement from organising all her acquaintance
into schemes of one sort or another.
"How long do you expect to be in Sanditon?" she enquired.
How long? Well, that depends I suppose. Sidney says it
is not even certain yet when Henry's ship sails for Bengal."
"But is Mr. Brudenall planning to remain in Sanditon till
then? I thought he would be returning to London fairly soon
now his cousin"s wedding is safely over."
"His cousin's wedding? But -- " He broke off, an expression
of such embarrassment on his face that Charlotte hastened to add,
'It is quite safe to mention that to me. I do understand Mr.
Brudenall did not want the exact date of the wedding generally
known, but Mr. parker told me about it yesterday."
"Did he indeed? Oh, well -- " Reginald laughed again and
confessed rather ingeniously. "You know it is amazingly difficult
for me to decide exactly what Sidney has told anybody."
"I cannot guess how much he may have revealed to others,"
said Charlotte. "But, so far as I know, the wedding yesterday
was mentioned only to myself and Miss Brereton."
"Oh yes, of course, Miss Brereton. Sidney told me about
<1her,">1 agreed Reginald. "And perhaps I was a little sleepy when
he was explaining everything else. Or I dare say l was too busy
trying to make him listen to me. You know how it is with Sidney
-- not the slightest notice did he take of my protests last night.
It's always the same. When he has any serious business on hand,
he rides roughshod over everything -- disregards social engage-
ments completely -- his own and everyone else's. But I mean
it was dashed inconvenient for me. Two parties cancelled --
and he waves them aside as mere trifles. Great fellow for insisting
his friends must dance to his tune.
"Yes," agreed Charlotte. "He manipulates people. He -- "
"Oh] famous for it," interrupted Reginald cheerfully. "Always
maintains he is doing it for our own good, of course. And in this
case he says it is Henry's. But I told him last night-- when he
finished warning me about all these odd people and the hazards I
was likely to fall into -- I said I was dashed if I could get through a
whole week of Sanditon without running into trouble somewhere,
Oh, you will be perfectly all right, Reginald,' says he, "You stick
with my friend Miss Heywood and you cannot come to any harm.'
Those were his very words."
They were words which Charlotte was happy to hear repeated
at second hand; and yet she felt there was something derogatory
in them as well. Why should Sidney be so certain his friend was
safer in her company than in anyone else's? Clearly he was
prone to indiscretion -- which she had already sanctioned with
indulgence. But was there something else he and Sidney wanted
to hide? Something they expected her to overlook or condone?
Again she had the uneasy feeling she was being far less of an acute
observer than she had always believed herself. But Sidney's
careless recommendation of her to his friend gave such a glow
of satisfaction that she was almost prepared to disregard any
other implications, and fully prepared to rank the compliment
as high as her "smiling grey eyes."
It was these indirect and unconscious small presents Reginald
occasionally dispensed which caused her to listen with a concen-
tration his conversation as a whole scarcely merited. He seemed
determined to adopt her as his confidante and talked gaily on
without ever expecting a reply. But inevitably most of his
conversation centred round Sidney; he took it for granted the
possession of this mutual friend formed some definite bond of
sympathy between them.
"Of course I quite understand Sidney had to go to London
himself. Very busy fellow. Three urgent committee meetings,
he says, and he could hardly have ordered me up to attend those.
l would not have understood a word about gas, light and coal."
"Gas, light and coal?"
On Lord] yes. Did he never mention them to you? Well
maybe you have no money to invest but he is always trying to
make me invest mine. Or perhaps he thinks it is not a subject
which would interest females. I don't say it interests me a great
deal but he goes on about it forever lately. 'Lighting London by
gaslight, Reginald,' says he, "is an enterprise you should be proud
to support.' I told him I read in the papers somewhere that it
would destroy the whale-oil trade; and that meant whale-fisheries,
ropemakers, sailmakers and mastmakers -- in fact one paper I
read predicted the ultimate ruin of even the British Navy from the
introduction of gaslight -- but do ytu know what Sidney said?
He said his company was doing more for the prevention of crime
than any single body in England since the days of Alfred the Great.
Oh, Sidney can produce very good arguments in favour of any-
thing he wants you to do, but there is often too much risk involved
for me to agree with him."
"I take it, then, that Mr. Parker himself does not approve of
caution?"
"Sidney -- cautious? I should say not. I remember him saying
to me once: "Reginald,' says he "we are living in a reckless age
Those of us like you who are content to sit still on their capital
will only lose it. There are hectic years ahead of us and we must
all learn to keep pace with them.' He was trying at the time to
make me invest in steam engines. But now he has gone completely
off his head over gaslight -- takes absolutely no notice of the
derision and opposition there has been to it. Oh, Sidney is all
for taking risks," pausing and considering this statement rather
more carefully. "That is -- well, only <1some>1 risks. Because, on
the other hand, I can remember his advising me against several
of my favourite schemes. Why, when I first heard about his
brother's development plans here in Sanditon -- and it was Sidney
himself who told me of them -- I thought it would be the very
thing for investment. But no, says Sidney, why venture your
money in thao "Sanditon,' he says, 'is even too much of a gamble
for me. Why do you want to be involved in io' Seaside resorts
depend on fashion, he says, and fashion depends on tastes and who
can ever predict those with any certainty? He said his brother
was making a hobby out of Sanditon and combining commerce
with pleasure, which was a good thing for <1him;>1 but it was clearly
no investment for an outsider. Well, here I am running on about
money and investments which probably do not interest you in the
least. You just stop me whenever you are bored with what I
say. All my friends do."
"I am not in the least bored," said Charlotte, who had been
so busy listening that she had to suppress several possible trains
of thought which might have caused her to miss some of Reginald's
revelations. For although he was clearly a rattle and one would
hardly have expected much usefulness or information from him
in the normal way, he had hit on the one topic of conversation
which was, at present, of absorbing interest to his audience.
Sometimes it might be a little difficult to follow the twists and
bends of his grasshopper mind, but Charlotte was finding ample
repayment in her rapt attention; and in many small ways, she
was learning more about Sidney's true character in one morning
than Sidney had told her about himself in the course of a week.
Where Sidney evaded and joked, Reginald, left to himself with
perhaps only an encouraging word or two, revealed everything
he knew on any subject at all; and in cheerful acceptance of his
friend's superior talents, he was ready to be guided by him without
exercising any further thought over the matter.
In fact, she was inclined to doubt whether Reginald exercised
much thought in any direction. He often began sentences which
seemed to lead nowhere; and a great deal of what he said was not
very clear to her. But on the few occasions when she did interrupt
with some query which might have helped her understand some of
his remarks rather better, a wary expression would come over his
face as though he was suddenly conscious of saying too much.
And then he would give one of his loud bursts of laughter and
immediately change the subject.
His general imprudence was plainly shown in the shout of
derision he gave on hearing he had become a member of a
seaweed-collecting party.
"Good God] Have they all taken leave of their senses? Who
can possibly go collecting that slimy stuff? Miss Heywood, surely
you are not serious?"
She assured him three of the collectors at least were perfectly
serious, laughed at his undisguised incredulity and attempted
to moderate some of his disastrous frankness; but he continued
to pour waspish scorn on the whole enterprise in a series of in-
cautious asides at intervals throughout the morning.
He firmly declined to help Arthur in wading out for the sea-
weed; and at first resisted even the Miss Beauforts' entreaties to
admire it. But he became a more enthusiastic member of the
party as soon as he realised the graver risk he faced of falling
victim to Miss Denham. She was always on hand to appropriate
him whenever Arthur called Charlotte away to look after his dry
towels, his socks and his shoes; and she never despaired of
coaxing him to sit on the "comfortable rock" she had discovered
while everyone else clustered about such specimens of seaweed as
Sanditon could grow and Arthur could find.
But Reginald was quite practised enough in social graces to
slide away from the Miss Denham Sidney had warned him about;
and Charlotte was frequently amused to overhear him proclaim-
ing a sudden passionate interest in examining the latest specimen
and occasional minor effusions on seaweed in general, which pro-
vided him with the excuse of remaining within the orbit of the
harmless Miss Beauforts.
Towards the end of the morning, Charlotte became almost fully
occupied with Arthur, whose pride in being the only gentleman to
risk getting his feet wet almost equalled his anxiety to suffer no ill
consequences from it. And Reginald then appended himself to
Miss Letitia entirely, standing behind her as she drew outlandish
and complicated patterns with seaweed overtones. She had left
her easel behind and was constantly heard bemoaning the fact,
protesting it was impossible for her to make faithful sketches of
seaweed without an easel. But Reginald gallantly defended even
the most unsuccessful of her attempts, politely insisting it Iooked
just like seaweed to him; and though nobody else agreed with
him, Miss Letitia was flattered enough to go on sketching indus-
triously.
Charlotte did not grudge Arthur his full share in her attention;
and in handing him his towels, wringing out his socks and com-
menting on his finds, felt she was making some return for the
confidence he reposed in her.
The morning had added so considerably to her knowledge of
Sidney that she was already well satisfied with it -- though she
hardly knew where to begin in cataloguing all Reginald's scraps
of information. Most prominent among those which demanded a
period of meditation was his scornful "Sidney -- cautious?
should say not." This had been stored away in her mind along-
side the memory of Sidney"s own remark: "Caution and Miss
Heywood go so well together." But she postponed any develop-
ment on that theme till she could be alone to reason it all out.
How differently did everything now appear in which Sidney
was concerned] Heedlessness of his friends, flippancy, shallow-
ness and improvidence -- she could no longer accuse him of
these. And that he thought very seriously indeed about some
subjects she could no longer doubt. But she was no nearer to
understanding his character; and after restoring Arthur to his
sisters' care, she looked forward to regaining her own room,
unwrapping her shellwork box, rereading Sidney's letter and
thinking over all she had heard about him that day.
"Ah, there you are," cried Mr. parker catching her on the way
upstairs. "Now I want your comments -- and Mary's -- on this
piece I have been writing about Sanditon. Facts, hard facts, are
what I have put down. No exaggeration about them at all. I
have said we have a capital set of Assembly Rooms but made no
boasts like Brinshore of holding fortnightly Assemblies. For of
course, I do not believe that, you know. They may <1intend>1 to hold
fortnightly Assemblies, but I am very sure they do not. Now I
have only claimed we hold <1occasional>1 Assemblies -- perfectly
legitimate, would you not agree? In fact, I believe I will start
ocganising one directly. So long as we manage <1one>1 Assembly this
season, we can be said to hold occasional Assemblies. I shall set
about it immediately -- finding out how many couples we may
count on, cards, candles, chairs, musicians and so forth and so
on. Oh, there will be enough to do over the business; but I dare
say we shall be able to arrange it all very speedily. So I shall
write to Sidney and tell him we are about to hold one of our
occasional Assemblies] <1That>1 will bring him back to Sanditon
fast enough. Sidney can never resist any entertainment that is
going-- idle fellow that he is. Well, and have you time to read
my notes on Sanditon now? I can fetch them in a moment from
the study. No, on second thoughts, it might be as well to give
them to Mary first. A much better plan, now I come to think
about it. She has been out in that greenhouse all day and must
be longing for some excuse to leave off. I will go and relieve her
boredom for her first."
And with this happy thought, Mr. Parker went off to interrupt
his contented wife, leaving Charlotte to resolve against ever
trusting to his judgement again where even the interests of his own
family were concerned.
CHAPTER24
ONCE MR. PARKER had reached his impetuous decision to hold
an Assembly in Sanditon, his impatience to carry it out swept
away his own former objections; and nobody else's were even
consulted. By the time he sat down to dinner that evening he
had already fixed on Thursday, August the 27th, as a definite date;
and, full of energy and infectious enthusiasm, had mentally
engaged the musicians, ordered the candles, hired extra chairs and
calculated the probable cost of the supper.
To his wife's protests that she had no time to arrange an
Assembly, that Sanditon was too thin of company and that a
week was not long enough to complete all the necessary planning,
he paid no attention.
"Now you are talking nonsense, my dear. If one plans some-
thing a fortnight ahead, it takes a fortnight. If one only allows
a week, then that is always sufficient too. These details of
supper dishes and card tables -- what do they amount to? All
speedily settled once you give your mind to it. And have you
forgotten, my dear Mary, that Diana is with us at the present
time? You have only to ask Diana; she will give all the help and
advice you could need."
Had Mrs. Parker been interested in organising the Assembly
herself, she would have found it difficult to prevent her sister-in-
law from giving far more help and advice than she cared to receive;
but as she much preferred to run her own household efficiently
and continue her gardening undisturbed, by the following morning
she had accepted Diana's obliging offer to take over entire
responsibility for arranging the Assembly.
lf she had any little vanity, boasted Miss Diana, it was in her
belief that she knew how to organise large-scale entertainments
of this kind and how to supervise people successfully. Everyone
was always ready to work under her direction. Servants -- her
own or other people's -- were always devoted to her. Even such
disappointing material as their Sally could be turned into a good
servant under her management. And organising an Assembly
was, of course, but an extension in magnitude of those precepts
that rule the ordered management of a household. It required
only a clear mind, the ability to issue simple concise orders and
the selfless expenditure of a great deal of energy to make sure
they were carried out. Mrs. Parker must not disturb herself
trying to acquire such very necessary qualities within the next
week when she, Miss Diana, already possessed them. She would
be extremely happy to be of service to them all.
And, consequently, Miss Diana was very soon most busily
occupied striding between the Terrace and the Assembly rooms
at the hotel, toiling up the hill to Trafalgar House to consult her
brother over every minor point, and disorganising the Woodcocks
and their staff in ordering windows to be cleaned, chandeliers to
be washed and floors to be polished by servants she had already
despatched elsewhere on unnecessary errands.
With all this talk of dates and plans, Charlotte came to the
reluctant decision she herself should be making plans for a return
to Willingden. No date had so far been mentioned -- no limit
had ever been set to her seaside holiday; but on the day fixed for
the Assembly, she would already have been a full month in Sandi-
ton, which seemed an appropriate time to raise the subject of
departure with her kind hosts.
The suggestion was met with all the concern and hospitality she
had come to expect from them. But did she wish to leave them
so soon? They had been hoping she would stay the whole
summer. She could not be meaning to fix on so early a departure.
Charlotte was warm in her gratitude but remained firm in her
intentions. perhaps no precise date could be settled, but certain
things must be thought of; she must write to her father and arrange
a convenient day when the family coach could meet her at Hail-
sham. And though Mr. Parker protested she could be driven the
whole way in his carriage whenever she liked -- any morning at
all she "woke up feeling homesick" -- she smilingly insisted on
giving her parents due notice and arranging her homecoming in
advance.
On one point only did she waver -- allowing herself to be
persuaded this could all be discussed "after the Assembly." There
was too much else to be thought of now, Mr. Parker claimed.
Diana, for one, could not be distracted by such proposals.
Diana was forever saying Miss Heywood was the greatest help in
all her little arrangements. Oh no, Diana could never spare her.
lt was true that for the past two days Charlotte had carried
many urgent messages for Miss Diana and had been summoned by
her so many times that the Parkers could be excused for believing
she was greatly involved in all their sister's bustling activities.
But it was also true that she had spent most of those two days
sitting in the drawing room of Number Four doing nothing what-
soever except wait for Miss Diana to return with fresh orders.
She was very kindly received there by Miss Parker, with whom
she had become something of a favourite since the excursion
to Brinshore, where her calm good sense had recommended her
to Miss Parker's particular notice. And though they had very little
in common beyond the episode of the bee sting, Miss parker could
never grow tired of discussing that. She now looked back on the
incident with the utmost complacence, quite proud of the
consequence it had given her. Of all the people and all the bees
in Brinshore on that day, it was really most extraordinary she
should have been singled out for so marked a distinction]
Charlotte always listened very patiently to the repeated and
detailed descriptions of the varying degrees of pain experienced in
the process of receiving and recovering from a bee sting. Miss
Parker would never forget those hours of agony on the sofa, the
nervous spasms she had endured; and although she never neglected
to mention Miss Heywood s very great kindness on the occasion,
it was clear that her mind was chiefly preoccupied with a sense of
her own heroism in the face of sudden crisis.
From the window of Number Four, Charlotte occasionally caught
sight of the customary morning party assembling on the Terrace
and strolling along the shore line, but felt no resentment at being
unable to join them.
The Miss Beauforts no doubt often congratulated themselves
on the success they were enjoying over their seaweed excursions.
Arthur remained their only serious convert to the collecting mania,
But for want of anything better to do, Reginald Catton and Henry
Brudenall had at least become regular members of the party.
Clara Brereton clearly regarded these organised meetings as
excellent pretexts for escaping regularly from Sanditon House,
Sir Edward was still promising the Miss Beauforts his verses and
using them as an excuse for his daily encounters with Miss Brere-
ton; and his sister always accompanied him, though Charlotte
often wondered how she was able to justify her continued presence
when she professed such open disdain for seaweed and merely sat
on her comfortable rock taking no active part in the proceedings,
Miss Denham was scarcely in a position to acknowledge her
real motive to anyone, whether this was to make headway for
herself with the visitors from the hotel or to keep a watchful eye
on her brother's conduct towards Miss Brereton.
How the latter affair was progressing, Charlotte could make
only distant surmises. From her vantage point at the window,
she had once observed Sir Edward trying to detach Clara from
the main group and liked to imagine the firm shake of the head he
had been given on this occasion was worth more than the com-
placent smiles he was given at other times.
There were other sources of speculation for Charlotte too as she
sat listening to Miss parker recount her impressions of Brinshore;
and she often tried to imagine how very differently each member
of the party would consider the day of that visit in retrospect. For
Henry Brudenall, it was his cousin's wedding day; for Arthur and
the Miss Beauforts, their introduction to seaweed; for Clara
Brereton a day of unhappy indecision, which had ended in Lady
Denham's invitation to the very cousin who might sensibly advise
her; for Sir Edward, perhaps a day of frustration when Clara post-
poned the elopement he was now urging her to reconsider; for
Sidney parker it was certainly an occasion for displaying his pow-
ers of organisation, for duping everybody and playing practical
jokes; for the Miss parkers, this noteworthy advenrure of the bee-
sting. And for herself? It had been an unforgettable day on
which she was confronted by problems whose existence she had
never recognised, and struggled with emotions she had not believed
herself to possess.
lt was calming to sit with Miss Parker, sorting out these memo-
ries of Brinshore; and Charlotte was never seriously disturbed,
on arriving at Number Four following an urgent summons, to
discover Miss Diana had walked off on even more urgent business,
leaving instructions for her to but "wait a few minutes," which
invariably stretched into half the morning.
She was on her way there for the third successive day, escorted
by Arthur who had conveyed Miss Diana's latest message to
Trafalgar House, when she caught sight of the pale features of
Miss Lambe, peering wistfully from a half-open window of the
corner house. A smile and a wave in passing would have been
enough. But Charlotte, who had not seen Miss Lambe since
their day in Brinshore, had overheard several careless remarks of
the Miss Beauforts that "poor Adela was quite done up with so
much travelling" and "her migraines are the most horrid thing,
you know -- the slightest exertion seems to bring one on.
Though she would have hesitated to call and put Mrs. Griffiths to
the inconvenience of entertaining her, she was determined to make
proper enquiries now an opportunity presented itself; and stopping
beneath the window to call a cheerful greeting, she was rewarded
by seeing Miss Lambe's face light up with sudden pleasure. Let-
ting down the window-sash to its fullest extent, she leaned
eagerly forward.
"Oh Miss Heywood, I was hoping so much to see you. Mrs.
Griffiths does not think I should venture out of doors yet. But
I would be so happy if you could find the time -- if you could spare
even a few moments -- to come in and see my sheIl collection."
Charlotte had almost forgotten Miss Lambe's shell collection;
she had no particular wish to see it herself, but could not ignore
a request where her acceptance appeared likely to give such
satisfaction.
Of course I have time," was therefore her warm reply. "I am
only going along to Number Four on some errand or other; but"
-- turning to Arthur, -- "perhaps you could go ahead and dis-
cover if your sister is waiting for me?"
"You mean Miss Diana Parker?" asked Miss Lambe. "I saw
her go past on the way to the hotel not five minutes ago. Perhaps
if we keep an eye on the window, we can see when she returns.
Looking at my shells will take no time at all and," speaking very
earnestly, "I have been longing to show them to you."
Such a plea could not be resisted. Charlotte turned im-
mediately towards the front door, followed by an unwilling
Arthur, who was fairly certain he had not been included in the
invitation but uncertain how he could now avoid being so, and
more dubious still over intruding on what promised to become
a distinctly feminine tete-a-tete.
He shifted from one foot to the other, unable to decide whether
to escape while he could or remain to make some apology.
"Now if it had been bonnets, I would know, of course -- but
shells] What do <1you>1 think I should do?" he demanded of
Charlotte. "No, no] leave the bell for a moment."
But Miss Lambe must have flown down the stairs and had the
door open before Charlotte touched the bell. She looked very
slight and frail but showed no sign of the nervousness which
usually overcame her when confronted by more than one person.
The consciousness of now being their hostess may have added to
her self-possession, or perhaps she was so happy to have these
visitors to entertain that she forgot her shyness. Whatever the
cause, she recognised Arthur's quandary at a glance and earned
his gratitude by exclaiming tactfully, --
"Oh, I do hope you will step upstairs too, Mr. Parker. You
will not be very interested in my shell collection, I imagine; but if
you would be so kind as to watch for your sister through the
window, it would be extremely useful to us."
And Arthur followed them both upstairs, feeling much less
awkward, indeed quite flattered by this persuasion of his extreme
usefulness on the occasion.
Miss Lambe had her own private sitting room on the second
floor, a pleasant, airy chamber facing the sea; into this, she had
crowded a number of private treasures which Charlotte would
have thought it possible to travel without. Prominent among
these was a brass-bound wooden chest, fitted up with a succession
of little drawers, each with its own small brass handle; and
towards this they were now led.
"perhaps you think me very stupid to bring so many personal
possessions on a short summer stay," said Miss Lambe as if aware
of Charlotte's impressions. "But I spend so much time on my
own and it gives me pleasure to look at beautiful things -- and
Mrs. Griffiths is so understanding about it -- "
In her embarrassment, she pulled open one of the drawers and
neither Charlotte nor Arthur listened any longer to these stum-
bling apologies. They were staring down at a rainbow profusion
of shells such as they had never known to exist: fragile heaps of
pink, blue and mauve, carefully sorted into cotton-lined nests.
Each shell was exquisite in itself -- round or elongated, striped,
speckled or plain -- whether it belonged to a pile of the same
variety or was isolated in the proud possession of a nest of its
own.
Pulling out more drawers as though fearful her visitors would
not appreciate the collection unless they saw it all at once and in
a great hurry, Miss Lambe made further explanations.
"Down here at the bottom, I keep the larger ones. See, here is
the biggest conch. And this one is a pinnidae. These mother-
of-pearl molluscs have such wonderful grey lights, I always
think. And this is just an ordinary oyster shell but it has the
pearl still in it. Did you know," she added inconsequentially,
"that an oyster changes sex every time a cloud passes over?"
Who told you thao" demanded Arthur, much struck.
"My father. He knew everything about shells and sea crea-
tures -- about nature altogether. He read and he studied and
sometimes he talked to me."
Then, all at once, she retreated back into shyness; and, stam-
mering again, turned to Charlotte with an air of timid appeal,
"I hope you did not mind my pressing you so much to come in --
that you feel my shell collection is deserving? "
"lt is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," said Charlotte
with such undoubted sincerity that Miss Lambe went quite pink
with pleasure and gave her a quick, bright look -- almost of
adoration; she said nothing, however, only touched a few of her
shells lightly and affectionately before turning away. And
although they had not exchanged more than half a dozen sen-
tences, Charlotte suddenly felt they knew each other intimately;
the shell collection was an odd vignette which had illuminated
for her Miss Lambe's whole personality.
"Would you like to see some of my water-colour sketches of the
shells?" Miss Lambe was asking now, pulling open the drawer of
a small table. The success of the shells seemed to have em-
boldened her to reveal all her treasures; and she lifted a pile of
drawings on to the table top and began turning them over very
quickly. At least half a dozen had already been discarded before
Charlotte and Arthur could move near enough to see them, when
they immediately begged to be allowed examine each one more
closely.
Miss Lambe's sketches were not of a type to skim over casually
-- as unlike Miss Letitia's dashed-off impressions as it was
possible to imagine. More the drawings of a naturalist than an
artist, these were painstaking, life-like reproductions of the original
shells, each vein and each shadow clearly delineated, the true
colour washed in with careful exactitude. At the bottom of the
pile was her most recent drawing -- that of the seaweed Arthur
had presented to her in Brinshore.
"My word]" he said, picking this up, turning it this way and that,
and finally holding it at arm's length while Miss Lambe blushed
in sudden apprehension. "But this is brilliant] This is admirable
indeed] Those greens and browns so exactly the colour. A
truly excellent representation of an enteromorpha."
"A whao" said Charlotte.
lt was Arthur's turn to blush.
"An enteromorpha -- at least I am fairly sure that is what it
must be," he said, rather less emphatically. "But the problem
is, since I have been trying to collect and identify all this seaweed,
l have had to rely on description alone -- and enteromorphas
sound much the same as cladophoras if you cannot <1see>1 the colour.
pressing specimens is no great help either -- they warp and dis-
colour so quickly when taken out of the sea water. To catalogue
scientifically, one should have life-like reproductions such as
this. I suppose,' appealing to Miss Lambe rather diffidently,
"you would not be interested in drawing more pictures of sea-
weed ? "
"But of course -- if you bring it to me," she offered with the
utmost readiness. "I have drawn all my own shells and tried to
capture their colours over and over again; and the English shells,
I am afraid, do not interest me. But seaweed colours are so
subtle and delicate -- so many shades of green and olive, all
those different hues of brown and red -- oh] I could experiment
forever trying to reproduce them exactly."
Charlotte, who found seaweed far less interesting than shells,
carried some of Miss Lambe's water colours to the window to
look through them in the better light; while Arthur, who had
become quite animared, began making plans to supply fresh
seaweed at the corner house every morning.
"For if you paint it the same day I collect it, we will have the
very best opportunity of preserving the correct colours -- "
"And perhaps, in a few days, if the weather remains warm,
I can come down to the shore myself," cried Miss Lambe. "And
then I could mix the colours on the spot,"
They both became so absorbed in their new plans and so
engrossed in their discussion of seaweed, that it was Charlotte
who remained at the window on the look-out for Miss Diana,
And it was a full ten minutes after she had seen her through the
front door of Number Four before she could prevail on Arthur to
accompany her.
CHAPTER25
MlSS LAMBE'S INTEREST in seaweed proved more durable than
the Miss Beauforts'. They had been enthusiastic in praising it,
energetic in promoting their collecting parties for it, and ecstatic
about each other's pressed arrangements of it; but their ardour
cooled most abruptly.
As the date of the Assembly drew nearer, seaweed gave way
to social concerns; and seaside-promenading clothes had to take
second place to ball dress. They stopped pestering Sir Edward
to finish his seaweed verses for them to frame and no longer
entreated Arthur's services in wading out among the rocks at low
tide. Closeting themselves away with patterns, trimmings,
ribbons and flounces, they were even prepared to forgo their daily
meetings with Henry Brudenall and Reginald Catton in their
preparations to dazzle them on the night of the Assembly.
But for Miss Lambe, waging a quiet but persistent battle with
her own constitution -- and Mrs. Griffiths' apprehensions for
it -- the shore line had become a goal she was determined to
reach. For several rainy mornings she had to be content to stay
indoors sketching pieces of seaweed Arthur delivered after his
own damp and solitary rambles. And when, on a particularly
fine, windless day, she managed to achieve her objective and sit,
wrapped in shawls, for a few hours in the most sheltered cove, her
delight and her diligence were both highly gratifying to Arthur.
Charlotte was again most earnestly petitioned to rejoin the
collecting parties; but now, she noted with interest, Arthur was
no longer requesting her assistance with his own towels, socks and
shoes. These were tucked into a convenient bundle, pulled out,
put back and scarcely mentioned the whole morning. And al-
though his preoccupation with comfort and his anxiety about
health remained considerable, all his solicittude in these matters
was now entirely at Miss Lambe's disposal.
He himself must carry her folding chair, her easel and her
drawing paper. Charlotte was required to look after her shawls
and her paintbox, her cushions and hartshorn. In Miss Lambe,
she decided, Arthur had encountered someone quite unique in his
experience -- a genuine invalid, who despised her own weakness,
disliked talking about her symptoms, and overtaxed her strength
in her eagerness to lead a normal life whenever she was capable of
it.
And Arthur, who did not usually spare much thought for
anybody's comfort but his own, had lately been forced into
recognising the difference between selfish indulgence and neces-
sary prudence. <1He>1 wanted Miss Lambe's sketches of seaweed
and <1she>1 was very willing to execute them; but he had begun to
realise that health, which he had always regarded as an excust
for behaving exactly as he liked, could also intervene in one's
pleasures and prevent one from carrying out a favourite scheme,
His sisters had always encouraged Arthur to discuss his minor
ailments at such length that it astonished him when Miss Lambe
denied having a headache, pretended to feel better than she
really did and made so few complaints as to seem almost ashamed
of her condition. But one day's exhaustion could mean several
days' recuperation. And from being protective about the
progress of his seaweed sketches and watchful for warning signs
of fatigue on their behalf, Arthur naturally enough became
protective about Miss Lambe herself.
It was he who decided how long their collecting expedition
should last; it was he who decided if the sea breeze was too
strong, the clouds threatening or Miss Lambe exerting herself
beyond her own strength; and in making these decisions and
insisting they were acted upon, Arthur was also outgrowing a
little of his own immaturity. The change was as yet barely
perceptible but, on several occasions, Charlotte noted and
welcomed it.
She was the only person (with the possible exception of Mrs.
Griffiths) to observe this interesting development in Arthur's
character; and she often wished Sidney would return to Sanditon
to discuss it with her and confirm the improvement she fancied
in his younger brother's outlook. But beyond one short note to
his elder brother with ironic congratulations on the plans for an
Assembly, there was no further news of Sidney.
lt was not, however, till the actual day of the Assembly that
Charlotte gave up all expectation of seeing him present at it.
She had been relying on that impetuous streak, so prominent in
the Parker family, and believing Sidney would arrive without
notice, late at night on the eve of the Assembly, and walk in to
surprise them all that very morning.
The sound of the doorbell while they were at breakfast seemed
to confirm this guess, and though Miss Diana's appearance ban-
ished the first flutter of her spirits, she still expected every moment
to hear her announce his arrival. But Miss Diana, most per-
versely, would talk only of blackberries.
"The most abundant crop of blackberries this year on the
downs] I have never seen anything like it -- it would take
scarcely an hour to fill a basket. Two baskets, Duckworth and
I have decided would be enough for a fair-sized syllabub. And
I had it all arranged so well; indeed nothing could be clearer --
if four of the young ladies spent only one half-hour each -- "
"Well, and is he come?" Mr. Parker eagerly interrupted.
"What are you talking of, my dear Tom? Who is come?"
"Sidney, to be sure. Are you not come to tell us he has arrived?
Drove down late last night I dare say?"
"Oh Sidney] No, no, I know nothing of Sidney -- or at least
I can tell you he has definitely <1not>1 arrived because I have just
come from the hotel myself. But what difference will Sidney
make to our arrangements for the Assembly? I am here on
purpose to tell you and Mary about the blackberries for the
syllabub this evening. Can you not give your attention to what
I am saying?"
Charlotte's disappointment was so intense that she was unable
to comply with this request herself; and though Miss Diana's
strict disregard for anyone else's concerns often diverted her, it
was some time before she felt equal to appreciating this latest
example of her absurdity.
Diana's original and optimistic plan had apparently been that
all the young ladies of Sanditon could employ themselves on the
day of the Assembly picking wild berries for a blackberry syllabub
to be made by Duckworth, the hotel cook, at the very last moment
-- the freshness of the fruit being the most important ingredient
in Miss Diana's special recipe. And she had been astonished by
the selfishness of these young ladies, when they pointed out they
did not wish to tire themselves stretching and bending, exposing
their complexions to the hot sun, nor to attend the Assembly with
blackberry stains on their fingers and scratches across their arms.
"So what is to be done now?" she cried despairingly. "Duck-
worth has no time to pick the blackberries himself. That man is
a positive treasure -- a born cook, most willing to cooperate and
quite devoted to me -- would do anything I asked -- but of
course I would not dream of suggesting he should pick the
blackberries. Oh no] Duckworth and his kitchen staff are fully
occupied today with preparations for the rest of the supper,
And nobody could expect me to go picking all those black-
berries -- as it is I shall be busy till sunset supervising last minute
details. The success of the entire evening depends on <1me. I>1 am
wearing myself out in the service of these same young people]
incredible] quite incredible they will not do something for me in
return]"
Mrs. Parker's mild suggestion that the absence of one black-
berry syllabub would make little difference to everyone's pleasure
in the evening met with all the scorn Miss Diana felt it deserved.
On the contrary, the blackberry syllabub would form the main
attraction of the sideboard -- no Assembly was complete without
one -- and, in short, Miss Diana was determined to have her own
way, her obstinate resolution of providing a syllabub which nobody
else particularly wished to eat only increasing with the opposition
she encountered.
Charlotte's offer to tramp from one blackberry bush to another
till she had collected the two baskets by herself was made less to
please Miss Diana than to spare the others her complaints. Every
prospect of her own pleasure in the evening now seemed most
unlikely; and she felt it no great sacrifice to undertake what any
sensible person must regard as a most ridiculous quest. Nor was
it part of her disposition to imagine she was being imposed upon,
so she was able to reply to Miss Diana's effusive thanks by saying,
with perfect sinceriry, that she would honestly enjoy two hours'
ramble in search of blackberries on so sunny a morning.
Her wishes for the evening now centred almost entirely on
Miss Lambe in hoping that she, at any rate, would be in spirits
enough to enjoy the Assembly. And as she was persuaded Mrs.
Griffiths' wishes must be the same, she was not at all surprised,
on joining Arthur on the Terrace at midday, after delivering her
two baskets of blackberries to the hotel, to discover his proposal
for a seaweed expedition that morning had been firmly rejected.
"It is all such nonsense," complained Arthur. "I have just
been calling on them and Miss Lambe is in better health than I
have ever seen her. She begged Mrs. Griffiths to let her come
down to the beach. And I am quite sure she would prefer
sketching seaweed this morning to attending a ball this evening."
Charlotte, with some amusement at the Parkers tenacity in
their own selfish projects, attempted to convince him an Assembly
would rate as the more agreeable alternative with most females.
But Arthur obstinately insisted Miss Lambe's propensity as a
naturalist had been developed so early in life, and her knowledge
of such subjects so extensive, that it would be a great pity to
squander her talents in any other direction.
"Do you know what she told me today?" he cried, still rather
awed by the disclosure. "Goats are the only animals which can
eat arsenic without ill effects. Now what do you think of thao"
These odd and irrelevant scraps of information, always imparted
suddenly, shyly and quite gratuitously, were of absorbing interest
to Arthur; and in exclaiming over this latest example of Miss
Lambe's emdition and wishing for the twentieth time he could
have met her remarkable father, he was some time in recollecting
he had a message for Charlotte herself.
"Well, I will walk with you now as far as the tea rooms," he
said at last. "You will find everyone there."
Charlotte thanked him for this kind offer but denied her inten-
tion of joining any party in the tea rooms.
"Oh, but you must," Arthur said simply. "Sidney told me <1to>1
take you there."
The surprise of this announcement made her quite speechless
for a moment. And even when she had scolded back her self-
possession, she was grateful there was only an unobservant
Arthur present to overlook her stuttering.
"Has S-s-s -- your brother -- returned to S-sanditon thenY"
"Oh yes. More than an hour ago. lt was before I went in to
call on Mrs. Griffiths. They were all standing here on the
Terrace at the time, even the Miss Beauforts. Miss Letitia was
telling Miss Brereton how busy she was over some new hair
style and had only stepped out for a minute to greet everyone.
And my sisters were here too talking to Lady Denham about
some tart cases her cook had promised for the supper tonight.
And Sir Edward, Mr. Catton and Mr. Brudenall -- you can
imagine how delighted they all were when Sidney drove up --
jumped straight down from the carriage and left his groom to
turn it into the hotel. 'I am in luck,' says he. -Here is all
Sanditon out to welcome me. But where is Miss Heywood?' "
Charlotte, only half-attending to what Arthur was saying was
arrested by the sound of her own name and listened more
carefully while he repeated all the commonplace observations
everyone had made about her absence. How Diana had
boasted of the blackberry syllabub she would supervise the hotel
cook in making as soon as Miss Heywood had kindly picked all
the berries; how Susan had argued Miss Heywood could not
possibly still be doing it now the sun had grown so hot and
maintained she must be helping Mrs. Parker in her greenhouse;
and how Arthur (as soon as he could make himself heard) had
settled the matter by announcing Miss Heywood would be joining
him at noon for a seaweed excursion.
Although the charm of her own name was likewise present in all
of this, Charlotte found it no longer pleased her. It was quite
a long time before Arthur worked his way back to Sidney again,
but she was finally rewarded by hearing that he had charged his
brother with the office of escorting Miss Heywood to join the
whole party in the tea rooms.
"Even Diana has gone off there, though she says she still has a
thousand things to do. And do you know why?" smiling broad-
ly. "She has taken a notion into her head that Sidney has come
down to the Assembly on purpose to see Miss Brereton," Arthur
confided. "Oh, I saw myself he made straight for her directly he
arrived and handed her some note, which he <1said>1 was a letter from
some cousin of hers. But as he said the same thing and gave
another letter to Lady Denham, I dare say it was."
Charlotte had recovered herself sufficiently by now to treat
these suppositions with what she hoped was no more than a
proper degree of interest.
"You yourself, I take it, do not think there are serious grounds
for your sister's suspicions?
Oh well, as to that, he could not definitely say, was Arthur's
unsatisfactory reply. Diana always <1had>1 been wrong in any of
her previous conjectures about Sidney. "She goes on this way
whenever he takes particular notice of anyone at all. She will
pry and gossip] But my belief is that half the time Sidney only
pretends to have flirtations to tease her. However, when it came
out he was only down for the one night, I overheard Diana telling
Susan he must be serious. If he had travelled all the way from
London just to dance with Miss Brereton, they had best go as far
as the tea rooms to observe them together."
Arthur then reverted once more to his own concerns and she
was left to recover her composure while he talked on about
seaweed and Miss Lambe. Charlotte was glad he had warned
her of Miss Diana's suspicions. She was ashamed of being so
nervous in meeting Sidney again herself; and Arthur's words were
of a sobering tendency which helped allay this agitation and
determine her on appearing detached and unmoved by any
attentions Sidney might decide to pay her. The fact that these
attentions were more likely to be directed to Miss Brereton should
-- indeed must -- relieve some of her anxiety.
In their walk across the shingle she tried to arrange her own
feelings a little better, to tell herself how unaccountable and
absurd it was to be thrown into such confusion by the very
natural arrival of Sidney parker on the day of the Assembly. She
had even predicted it herself. A few hours ago it would not have
surprised her in the least] But she was extremely grateful for the
few moments of preparation she was being granted now before
entering the tea rooms and seeing Sidney himself.
The few moments were over far too soon; and Charlotte was
bitterly conscious how slight a control she exercised over her own
heart, when the faces which turned towards herself and Arthur
in the doorway all became blurred and indistinct. For one
second she distinguished Sidney's but moved her eyes quickly
and resolutely away from it, fixing at last on Miss Diana Parker's.
She was further indebted to Miss Diana for the first words she
could distinguish from the babble confronting her.
"... and here at last is Arthur with Miss Heywood. Have
you picked all the blackberries, my dear? Oh yes, I can see your
hands are all stained and -- oh] what a pity] -- the brambles have
pulled so many threads in your gown]"
Charlotte, who had forgotten all about her dress, was now made
miserably aware of its being the oldest one she possessed -- a
faded, shabby blue cotton she had chosen specially to pick black-
berries in and not bothered to change for Arthur's seaweed
collecting.
"You must come and join our table, my dear. But where will
Arthursio"
Charlotte had already sunk thankfully into the nearest chair
at this nearest table before registering that the other occupants
were Miss Denham and Miss Parker; and two further tables were
likewise fully occupied. While Arthur was gravely explaining
he needed no place for himself and preferred to wade out at this
low tide for his seaweed, she managed a fleeting glance round the
room and once again caught Sidney's eye. He was sitting with
Lady Denham on one side, Miss Brereton on the other, and Mr.
Brudenall opposite.
The attention of the others being politely directed towards
Arthur, Sidney took advantage of it to raise his teacup in the
mock-manner of toasting her with a wine glass; and to smile very
warmly at her over the rim. Charlotte felt herself blushing and
turned away quickly as she realised that in this single, simple
gesture he had succeeded in demolishing all her carefully con-
structed defences. She could no longer attend to anything that
was said and felt herself the greatest simpleton in the world to be
affected by so harmless and friendly a greeting.
When she had criticised herself back into being sensible again,
she discovered Arthur had already gone, and Miss Diana needed
no assistance in conversation at their own table; she had returned
to a theme she had been expounding on before Charlotte's arrival:
an account of her transactions with local musicians.
"Two violins, I said, were quite enough for a small Assembly --
with the piano and violoncello as well; for I dare say there will be
no more than sixteen couples. Now if we could have counted on
twenty or twenty five, I might have added a harp -- "
Like Miss Denham, who was yawning, and Miss parker, who
was daydreaming, Charlotte gave up attending and tried to over-
hear what was going on at the next table. Miss Letitia and Miss
Beaufort were both competing there for the attentions of Sir
Edward and Reginald Catton. But Sir Edward, at least, was in
full flow about cottages ornes and ignored all their remarks about
the Assembly and their broadest hints on the modern fashion of
securing partners for the first two dances in advance.
"A friend of mine," he was telling them, "has lately requested
my advice on converting his little hunting lodge into a cottage
orne similar to my own."
"It is always done in London these days, I believe," said Miss
Beaufort. "And Miss Nicholls tells me it is quite the thing in
Ramsgate."
"But a conversion, you know, is never as satisfactory as build-
ing in the original style. You can, of course, throw out a few
canopied porches with ironwork trellising; and nothing easier than
to add barge-boards, verandahs and Gothic-pointed windows -- "
"Well, Ramsgate is a more fashionable place than Sanditon,
you know, tittered Miss Letitia. "But I agree with you, Lydia,
there are great advantages to some of these modern customs --
one hates arriving insupportably early at any Assembly merely to
secure a partner before the music strikes up -- "
"Oh really? That is quite easy, is it, Sir Edward?" cried
Reginald, feigning as much interest as he could in a similar attempt
to remain deaf to the Miss Beauforts.
"Easy enough --but it has not the same effect as if it was
<1planned>1 into the main structure. Not the same effect at all.
Careful planning is an essential of so intricate a style."
Charlotte, relieved that this conversation could amuse her, and
beginning to feel quite normal again now she was surrounded
by such banal topics, relaxed her determined effort at concentra-
tion; and she was just resolving to steal another glance in the
direction of Sidney's table, when Sir Edward reclaimed her atten-
tion by uttering a very familiar place-name.
"Willingden Abbots -- not much above five or six hours'
drive, I should imagine. My friend Atwell has gone to Switzer-
land for the summer and left me his keys. So one of these days,
I shall drive over there and draw up some plans for his conver-
sion. Somewhere due east of Hailsham, I believe."
Very pleased to discover she was at last capable of forming
and pronouncing a complete sentence, Charlotte was on the point
of interrupting Sir Edward with the correction that Willingden
Abbots lay seventeen miles south east of Hailsham, when she
realised from a sudden scraping of chairs at her own table how
far her attention had indeed wandered.
Sidney and his table companions were already at the door.
Miss Diana, with a significant look at Miss Parker, hurried
across to join them; and Miss Denham, who seemed equally
determined to eavesdrop on any conversation between Sidney
and Clara Brereton, darted so quickly after them that their table
had been deserted before Charlotte collected her wits sufficiently
to realise what was happening.
"Oh] Miss Heywood," cried Diana, remembering her with
reluctance and turning back from the door. "Perhaps you are
not yet ready to walk with us to the Terrace?"
'Yes, of course, I -- " began Charlotte in some confusion,
starting to rise but scarcely noticing she still held her cup and
saucer.
"No, of course not, " Sidney contradicted. He took a few swift
steps across the room and removing the saucer from her hand,
placed it on the table again. "How thoughtless you are, Diana]
Naturally Miss Heywood wants to stay and finish her tea.' He
sat down at the table. "And I will stay to keep her company."
"Oh, but -- I am not -- the tea -- really -- " Once again she
was overwhelmed with shame in being so nervous; despite all her
careful resolutions of maintaining detachment over any friendly
notice from Sidney, she had become almost tongue-tied with
embarrassment at finding herself now sitting alone with him
But her legs seemed to fail her at the same moment as her tongue;
and though she could see everyone moving past her to the door,
she felt incapable of any movemenr whatsoever.
Miss Diana marched back, inquisitive and perplexed.
"Well, Sidney] it is all very well for you to say so. But I am
sure Miss Heywood herself would prefer -- "
"Of course," Charlotte repeated again, mechanically beginning
to rise for the second time.
"Miss Heywood prefers to stay here, said Sidney with author-
ity. Charlotte's hand had been gripping the table as she prepared
to rise and he placed one of his over it as though to emphasise the
command. "I do say so, Diana," half-turning towards his sister,
"We will catch you up before you reach the Terrace. Now, off
you go and join the others."
Without removing his hand from Charlotte s, he swung back
again to the table. She tried to convince herself that this
circumstance -- this contact between them, so precious to her --
meant nothing to him beyond a rather absent-minded kindness,
And yet it was difficult to maintain such a belief when Diana
was regarding them both with unrestrained wonder. Charlotte
caught a glimpse of her face and the startled glance she gave the
two linked hands, in full view on the table top, before she whisked
herself out of the tea rooms as quickly as possible.
She left Charlotte staring shyly at Sidney, and Sidney smiling
back at her in a half-teasing but wholly enigmatic fashion. For
a moment neither of them spoke. Then Sidney withdrew his
hand from hers and laughed.
"Do you know what Diana has gone off to tell Susan?" he said
in a tone of evident satisfaction. " "Sidney and Miss Heywood are
flirting prodigiously together in the tea rooms.' Would you
take it amiss?"
The idea darted through her mind that there had been nothing
absent-minded after all in Sidney's prolonged retention of her
hand. It had been coolly deliberate. He wanted Diana to report
this incident to his relations, to mislead them into believing she,
Charlotte, was his ostensible object on this journey to Sanditon.
With his quick perception, it could not have escaped him Diana
was following everything that passed between himseIf and Miss
Brereton. And this interlude with her was nothing but a ruse to
assist him in concealing some more essential purpose. The con-
viction helped Charlotte considerably as she struggled for speech.
"I do not think l would mind," she said very carefully, "if that
is what you want her to tell Miss Parker. But all the same, I
do not think she will report it quite like that."
No, said Sidney with a great sigh. "You are quite right.
She will only say 'Sidney is flirting prodigiously with Miss Hey-
wood in the tea rooms. Miss Heywood is being as sensible as
ever.' "
Charlotte was fully aware of being less at ease with him than
formerly, but it heartened her that he could still believe she was
as sensible as ever. She made a great effort and tried to make
herself so.
"Your return seems to have been most unexpected," she said
in a firmer and more prosaic voice than usual. "Will you be
staying long in Sanditon this time, Mr. Parker?"
"Only for the Assembly, Miss Heywood," he replied in accents
of solemn mimicry; and then relaxing into his normal tone, '-I
hope you have saved me the first two dances, as that, I assure you,
is my only reason for driving all this way from London."
"Or so you would like everyone to believe," agreed Charlotte
pleasantly. "But you cannot really expect <1me>1 to believe it."
For a moment he looked at her with smiling penetration before
replying,
"Would you believe it was half the reason then? if you are so
unwilling to accept the compliments I give you, I shall try to
remember to halve them in future. And if in return you will
agree to double yours, I will promise to believe them too. Have
you missed me at all, Miss Heywood? I have missed you exactly
half the time I have been away. Now will you believe that or do
I still sound too much like Sir Edward?"
You could never sound like Sir Edward," said Charlotte,
completely forgetting the cheerful unconcern she had fully
intended to convey.
"No? Well I sound very much to myself as though I am trying
to sound like Sir Edward. Gallantry is truly a fine virtue to
practise. A pity the coin has become so debased in Sanditon one
hardly dares use it. But no, why should Sir Edward frighten me
off from saying something I very much want to say to a pretty
girl? Miss Heywood -- oh, are you indeed ready to go?"
"We must," said Charlotte rather reluctantly. "The others will
have nearly reached the Terrace by now."
"We shall walk very quickly," he said, rising and tucking her
arm into his. "But I am not going to be cheated of my compli-
ment. Miss Heywood, as my brother Tom would say, the
Sanditon breezes have brought your beauty to perfection.
"And you see how cunning I have been," he added gaily as they
walked across the shingle. "By putting the words into Tom's
mouth, I can get away with a full compliment. Half perfection
would not sound nearly so well."
Half would have been quite enough for Charlotte. She dared
not even hope Sidney meant as much; she well knew that such
beauty as she herself possessed was unlikely to tempt so popular,
polished and lively a young man, that her fortune was non-
existent and her personality a trifle narrow and over-decorous for
his tastes. But for the purposes of his present schemes and their
present acquaintance, she was also willing to believe he found her
a more sympathetic friend than the remainder of Sanditon's
limited society afforded. He could scarcely be blamed because a
simple country girl, who had scarcely travelled beyond the borders
of her own parish, should have been reckless enough to fall in
love with him on such very slight encouragement. She told
herself she should at least retain sufficient pride not to allow
Sidney or anyone else to realise it; but she had thrown even this
last instinct of caution aside before she was conscious of having
done so.
"Caution and Miss Heywood go so well together." But why
should they go together any longer? What harm could there be in
returning smile for smile and in allowing the most charming man
she had ever met to conquer the few remaining corners of her
heart where common sense retained a last fleeting hold? She
wished he would remain stationary long enough for her to behave
towards him with the restraint she knew was required; but it had
been her fate, on every occasion they had met recently, that
another announcement of a speedy departure panicked her into
acting exactly as she felt and not as she knew she ought. Had
Sidney intended to remain in Sanditon, she might have had time
to pause and consider, to try and check her feelings, her delight
in his high spirits and her indulgence of his faults. But now,
once again, there seemed only time to enjoy his company; and for
a brief period, Charlotte chose to be happy rather than wise.
She felt herself in good humour with all, paid no attention
whatsever to anything that anybody except Sidney said, knew
not how she parted from the group on the Terrace, was scarcely
aware of Miss Diana accompanying her up the hill, and walked
on towards Trafalgar House, seeing nothing of the view, feeling
nothing of the sun's heat and smiling to herself repeatedly.
"I will just look in at the greenhouse for a moment and talk
with Mary," announced Miss Diana. "No need for you to come
with me, my dear. So many matters as we still have to discuss
together before the Assembly this evening," she added -- but
not very convincingly.
"Oh, yes -- the Assembly," said Charlotte, smiling absently at
Miss Diana too. Such of her thoughts as she could understand
made her feel kindly towards the whole world and to pity everyone
she saw as being less happy than herself. But as Diana so clearly
did not want her in the greenhouse, she wandered in a bemused
way into the garden, where she found little Mary, seated on a
swing with her new parasol; and on a sudden impulse ran towards
her and picked her up in a warm, swift hug and embrace.
"Oh] Miss Heywood. You made me drop my parasol," com-
plained Mary.
"I am very sorry," said Charlotte, setting her on her feet again
and picking up the parasol, a little embarrassed by her own
outburst. She decided she had perhaps gone far enough in
indulging this heady emotion of happiness. "Did not you like
being kissed?"
"Oh, yes. I liked that," said Mary, still looking surprised. "But
it is so very strange. You have never done anything like that
before."
"No," said Charlotte, properly humbled now. "I am sory
if I startled you."
"But I did like it," repeated Mary, slipping her hand into
Charlotte's. "Now I am used to it, I liked it very much," regard-
ing her speculatively for a moment. "You do <1look>1 different today
too, Miss Heywood. Much prettier than before."
This involuntary tribute from Mary restored Charlotte to all
the early enjoyment of her happiness. They strolled about the
garden very contendedly together, picked a daisy chain out of
the side lawn and waved Miss Diana down the drive with the
same artless pleasure. And Charlotte then had to stand a fill
minute outside the greenhouse door before she reined in her
smiles enough to present herself in front of Mrs. Parker. But
the tranquillity she sought still eluded her.
"Dear ma'am," she exclaimed in her new and uncharacteristic
manner of impetuosity. "You have been working here all day]
How tired you will be for the Assembly tonight."
"Yes," agreed Mrs. parker easily. "But l shall be very con-
tented. And it is because of the Assembly, you know; that I
have been able to finish these new primrose seedlings. Except
for Diana stepping in for a few minutes just now, nobody has
come to interrupt me all day."
"But let me help you finish this last box," Charlotte offered
eagerly. "You will want to see to your dress and arrange your
hair-- oh] are not you looking forward to the Assembly? Now
that it is so near, I am beginning to enjoy the thought of it, l
own, to an extraordinary degree. What very great pleasure a
meeting of this kind, with music and dancing, can give even in a
circle accustomed to seeing each other every day." She seized a
flower pot and began filling it with earth. "I suppose Miss Diana
Parker told you her brother has arrived back in Sanditon?
"Yes," agreed Mrs. Parker even more easily; and it seemed to
Charlotte she was subjecting her to the same speculative look
Mary had given. "And that he is staying only the one day. They
are all surprised by that and cannot imagine why he comes for so
short a time. But usually, you know, there is a very good reason
for everything Sidney does. He may joke and pretend he moves
about for his own amusement, but it is seldom really the case.
l myself am quite sure that this time his business has something
to do with Mr. Brudenall which he wants none of us to guess."
Mrs. parker was bending down to firm one of her plants into
position; and it may have been because of this exertion that her
Face looked flushed when she straightened up.
"I am very fond of Sidney," she said with candour. "He has
been the kindest of brothers to me since my marriage. But I must
confess I have never fully understood him. There is such a
mixture of levity and seriousness in his nature that it is always
difficult to know what he intends. But what he says and what
he means are sometimes very different; and from what Diana said
of his high spirits this morning, I gather he is determined to mis-
lead us all very thoroughly during this visit."
This was quite a long speech for Mrs. Parker and, vague as it
was, Charlotte felt it was meant to contain several hints to guide
her own behaviour.
"He is always a very pleasant companion," she said, carefully
untangling the roots of two interlocked seedlings and trying to
assume a detached expression.
"Yes," agreed Mrs. Parker again. "Clever people can always
make themselves agreeable when they wish it. And Sidney is
certainly the cleverest by far of any of his family. He knows
how to amuse; and in the main he has integrity and good principles
too -- but what are these if steadiness and decorum are both
abseno people can be hurt as much by thoughtlessness as by
heartlessness." She paused as though she might have added
something more; but the mingled expressions in her young guest's
face made her change her mind and decide she had said quite
enough already. "There] We have finished the box and now we
shall both go to our rooms and rest. Tom proposes we should
dress for the Assembly after dinner; and as we have only ourselves
and our own comfort to Consider, it seems to me a very good
plan."
For Charlotte there was much cause for reflection in this con-
versation. Her mind was in a state of wonder and agitation
which made it impossible for her to be collected. The dancing,
singing, exclaiming spirits were still there; but now she also felt
a measure of fear, though she knew not of what. She wanted to
be alone and to be with people, both at the same time. But till
she had spent a period of quiet, serious reflection, she knew she
was unfit to talk to anybody at all.
She went to her room to indulge in this very necessary interval
of meditation. But two hours later, when summoned to an early
dinner, she discovered she had done nothing but sit holding an
ugly little shell box in her hand, reliving a few moments in a
curio shop and a few others in some tea rooms.
CHAPTER 26
MR. PARKER was in a buoyant mood as they sat down at table
and could scarcely restrain his impatience for Morgan to leave
the room before revealing some secret, of which he had already
dropped several broad hints.
"Now," he said importantly as soon as the butler disappeared.
"I have something very interesting to tell you. Shall I make you
guess what it is?"
Mrs. parker protested she had been doing that quite long
enough already and added, with a worried glance at Charlotte and
a warning one to her husband, that she knew he had been gossip-
ing with Diana and Susan for the past hour.
"Yes, I have been down at Number Four," admitted Mr.
parker. "And they are all guessing away there too, trying to
puzzle out why Sidney should have come all the way from London
just to attend our little Assembly. Arthur says one thing and
Susan another; and Diana, to be sure, has the best intelligence
of all and is trying again to make the rest of us believe it," laughing
heartily. "No, no, it would be very nice if it <1were>1 true," with a
significant look at his wife as if they had discussed this particular
story in private, "but we all know Diana is inclined to let her
imagination mn away with her; and then she rushes here and
rushes there, making enquiries and uncovering details which will
bolster her own ideas. Do you know she has been talking to
Sidney's groom and discovered he is not even spending the night
here? John says they are driving straight back to London from
the Assembly; he has already paid their toll dues to save time
waking up gatekeepers on the return journey. Driving all night]
They have even arranged the postings in advance and will pick
up Sidney's own horses at Croydon by nine o'clock to cover the
last stage. John says they must be in London by midday for
some unknown meeting Sidney sets great store by. And of
course Diana insists only her theory would explain why he should
have come all this way for one evening.
"I thought you had decided Diana's theories were not worth
discussing," interrupted Mrs. parker, beginning to look anxious
again. "You said you had something interesting to tell us."
"So l have, so I have," rejoined her husband in high good
humour. "I know something Diana does <1not>1 because I called
in to see Sidney at the hotel on my way back. My plan was to
try, if I could, to worm the truth out of him. Well, at first he
refused to tell me anything -- you know the way Sidney laughs and
evades when you ask him a direct question. So I put it to him
very earnestly -- showed I was really concerned over the matter
-- that these rumours of Diana's were not the sort of thing he
should countenance -- not the sort of thing at all. And in the
end, he agreed to tell me. Observe, he said it was to be a secret,
but l am sure he would not have the least objection to my own
family knowing it."
"If it was to be a secret," said Mrs. parker, "perhaps you had
better not tell us."
By this time Charlotte was very curious to know what this
mysterious secret of Sidney's could be. Several wild and
rapid conjectures had already occurred to her; and though she
could hardly bear the suspense of waiting to hear whether she
would be let into the secret, she went on slicing an apple into
smaller and smaller sections with what she hoped was a fine
show of indifference.
"Oh] as to that, Sidney as good as told me I might mention
the matter freely at home. "Let Susan and Diana go on believing
what they like," said he, "but I agree you and Mary are in rather
a different position; and it might relieve <1her>1 mind a little if you
reveal my real object in visiting Sanditon today."
If Mr. parker was quoting his brother's exact words, Charlotte
reflected, there was no mention of herself in this permission of
Sidney's. And from several eloquent looks being exchanged
between husband and wife, she gathered this very point was now
being debated in silence between them. But Mr. Parker had
evidently decided the licence extended also to their guest; and with
a final reassuring nod to his wife, he began in an impressive
tone,
"When I selected today for the date of our Assembly, little did
I realise its importance for Sidney's friend, Mr. Brudenall. But
Sidney has just been congratulating me on such uncanny sense
of timing. If he himself could have chosen one day out of any
others for our Assembly, he would have fixed on today -- the
very thing he would have wished for, he says, to take his friend's
mind off his present miseries and help him to survive this particu-
lar evening as effortlessly as possible. Today, Sidney has just
informed me, is the wedding day of Henry Brudenall's cousin."
Charlotte was so near to laughing at this anti-climax that she
cut up her apple again with even greater concentration. Such
an explanation might appear wholly credible to Mr. Parker.
Such judicious flattery from his brother over the random selection
of an important date might have added the final corroborating
touch to compel his beIief. But this particular wedding day was
becoming so mobile an event that she herself was beginning to
doubt its very existence. She could well understand now why
Sidney had purposely excluded her name from inclusion in his
latest secret.
"So you see, Mary," Mr. Parker added comfortingly, "there was
quite a simple explanation of the mystery after all. l as good as
told you that this morning. I was sure, when we discovered the
truth, it would prove more prosaic than Diana's fanciful notions.
And, you know, Sidney's good nature in seeing his friend through
this difficult period is so praiseworthy that we must lend him all
rhe support we can. He was always determined, he tells me, to
be in Sanditon this evening if he could. And he is grateful to me
for furnishing the additional excuse of the Assembly. Never, he
says, would he like Mr. Brudenall or anyone else to suspect he
cravelled down here for a more serious reason than that."
Charlotte could scarcely be blamed for concluding there must
indeed be some very serious reason for Sidney parker's presence
in Sanditon. She was also convinced she would never discover
rhe truth from listening to any of his relations; she even had
some sympathy with him in his persistent efforts to mislead them.
The Parkers were so inquisitive a family that she could readily
believe he found the greatest amusement in deceiving them all.
It must have been a source of high entertainment to him all his
life: to be constantly making his brothers and sisters waste their
time in inpertinent quesses and futile discussions, as he invented
one story after another and watched them being taken in by each
deception in turn.
 If it helped him to confuse his family, Charlotte even forgave
him the pretence of his gentle flirtation with herself. These light-
hearted attentions to her--what, in fact, did they amount to?
when she considered them rationally? Nothing more than
an easy, friendly playfulness; and she would indeed be a fool in
imaging they meant nothing else. It was hardly Sidney's
fault that she had given him her heart long before his lively brain
hit upon such a scheme for teasing his sister Diana; and that her
own feelings were now complicating his little plot far beyond his
own conception of it. She knew it was her behavior and not
Sidney's which was causing Mrs. Parker's anxiety; and with a
sturdy resolution to be level-headed and sober-minded the whole
evening, she went upstairs to dress for the Assembly.
If any further proof was necessary to enforce this resolution
before she left Trafalgar House, she overheard it in descending
the stairs again an hour later. Mr. and Mrs. Parker were still
debating the matter in their hallway as she came to the first bend
of the staircase.
"My dear Mary, do not give it another thought," Mr. parker
was saying. "You must allow me to know best; and I am quite
sure I did the right thing. Miss Heywood is a sensible girl, but
she does not know Sidney as we do. That liveliness of his
is often misplaced, so it was as well to let her know Mr. Brudenall
and not herself was his main concern this evening. I hope I have
given her a little hint not to take these attentions of his too
seriously. It is quite clear to me now that he was mainly intent
on hoaxing Diana."
"That is all very well -- but is it clear to Miss Heywood?" said
Mrs. parker unhappily. "He should take care not to deceive our
guest at the same time as his sister. Besides, you now have
Arthur's account to confirm what these attentions have been.
Sidney was most insistent he should escort Miss Heywood to the
tea rooms. Susan too -- her story about speaking to Miss
Heywood twice at the table and three times on the Terrace, and
never once getting any reply, convinces me of the danger almost
more than all the rest. Even the most sensible girls can be misled
by attentions as marked as these seem to have been. Oh, I am sure
Sidney means no ill, but it is really bad of him to behave in this
thoughtless way."
"I will speak again with him," promised Mr. Parker. "Only
high spirits, we know -- but shhhh," at last catching the sounds
Charlotte had been at considerable pains to make on the stairs.
"Well-- and here we all are ready to set off] I am sorry I must
insist we arrive down at the Assembly rooms at so early an hour,
But you know somebody always has to be the first. Somebody
has to lead the way."
Mr. parker was, however, by no means the only one in Sandi-
ton to covet this distinction; for Lady Denham, attended by
Miss Brereton, and Miss Diana parker, flanked by Arthur and
Susan, were all standing in the broad entrance passage when they
arrived.
"Ah] my dear Tom, I am so glad you are here at last," cried
Miss Diana. "Here is Lady Denham saying we should have the
candles lit in the main rooms and settle ourselves upstairs. But
it is a good half-hour before we can expect anyone else to arrive.
"How do you do, Lady Denham -- a capital idea of yours,"
Mr. Parker agreed. "We shall all catch colds in this draught
downstairs. Ha] the musicians have arrived too, I hear. Splen-
did, splendid. Let us all go and listen to them tuning up." And
with as much noise and bustle as he could contrive, he urged them
up the stairs.
Charlotte found herself beside Miss Brereton who, unlike
herself, seemed under no constraint to dissemble her excitement
at the prospect of the evening of dancing before them. Her
eyes sparkled in anticipation, as with more open-hearted anima-
tion than she normally displayed, she confessed,
"Oh, Miss Heywood] I am convinced this is going to be the
most delightful evening we have yet spent in Sanditon. I have
been practising Scottish steps for the last hour in my impatience
to begin dancing. I can hardly wait for everyone to arrive and
the music to start up. Do you not feel the same?"
"Why yes -- yes, of course," Charlotte smiled. She and
Clara Brereton had been diligently avoiding each other since
their drive to Brinshore. The uneasy awareness between them of
the confidence offered and rejected had precluded any further
attempts towards intimacy. But Charlotte had long ago
repented her lack of warmth on that occasion and willingly
responded to this friendly overture. Feeling, however, that their
roles had suddenly been reversed and it was she and not Miss
Brereton who now had something to hide, she searched for a
reply passing over herself. "It is a pity your cousin should not
have arrived in Sanditon before this Assembly."
"Ah, but she is coming a week from next Tuesday," exclaimed
Miss Brereton, speaking in a low but excited voice. "This
is another circumstance which adds to my happiness. I heard
from her this morning and it is now all settled -- there is to be no
more delay and uncertainty. My dear Elizabeth, in her letter to
me today, writes that she will be coming by the mail coach as far
as Hailsham on September the eighth; and Lady Denham has
already agreed to let me meet her there in the coach. l am so
happy about such definite and decided arrangements. Elizabeth's
coming will solve everything for me."
And then perhaps wondering if she had spoken too openly
about her private difficulties, to which Charlotte had once turned
a deaf ear, Miss Brereton moved away to exchange civilities with
Mrs. Parker. But Charlotte was left with the impression that
Clara Brereton had solved most of her problems to her own
satisfaction already, that no confidante was now necessary to
her, and she was quite certain of her own judgement in reaching
any decision.
Envying so contented an air of self-possession, sadly lacking in
herself that evening, Charlotte decided she must at all costs
preserve a decent show of composure in front of the parkers;
she was determined that not by one word or one look would she
betray what she was feeling; and the resolution of maintaining a
staid demeanour formed her main preoccupation as the Assembly
rooms began to fill.
Their cold and empty appearance soon gave way as the
Mathews and the Browns, the Fishers, the Miss Scroggs, the Mrs.
Davis and Miss Merryweathers of the library subscription list
began making a hesitant appearance; to be greeted by Miss Diana
as old friends, and to dissipate some of their first stiffness by
recognising all the other faces as ones which had long been familiar
to them on daily walks along the shore line.
Sir Edward and his sister managed to time their arrival with
that of the three young men from the hotel. Mrs. Griffiths,
showing great solicitude for Miss Lambe, and carefully intent on
st'ating her well away from the draughty passage into the card
room, scarcely noticed that the Miss Beauforts had eluded her
thaperonage. They dallied on the staircase, twitching each
other's gowns and pinning up each other's trains till, resolutely
stylish and fashionably late, they could make their entrance with
the orchestra's first strains of a favourite air; and were thus on
hand to engage the knot of young men still standing by the door
before they could escape to choose their own partners.
Sir Edward and hIr. Catton offered themselves tip with good
grace as the first sacrifices of the evening; and Sidney parker
left Henry Brudenall no choice but to engage Miss Denham for
the first two dances, by walking away from them both and coming
to claim Charlotte's hand. She was by now not very well pleased
by this distinction; and well aware the suspicions of the entire
Parker family were directed towards them, had been regretting
for some time that she had allowed Sidney to form this engagement
in advance.
However, the five pairs of eyes watching her made her more
determined than ever to appear perfectly easy and unembarrassed;
and as Sidney made this quite feasible by chatting to her in his
most sensible, unaffected manner, she began to feel she was really
managing very well in hiding her own confusion. They were half
way down the first set before he made one of his devastating
asides.
"Both Diana and Susan are looking another way at the
moment," he whispered. "I do think it would be quite safe for
you to smile just once."
Charlotte found herself doing so involuntarily.
"It has gone a lot further than your sisters," she said frankly.
"You have Mr. and Mrs. Parker and Arthur to contend with
now as well."
Oh, you may be sure I have had that impressed on me] But
I hoped they had sufficient tact to spare you. However, your
prudent conduct towards me for the last ten minutes has set
all their minds at ease again. Even Mary is now convinced her
guest is in no danger of falling victim to her unscrupulous
brother-in-law's shameless intrigues. Look -- she is quite
comfortable over in that corner with Lady Denham. And Arthur
is entirely engrossed with his dear little Miss Lambe. How long
has that been afooo"
"All this last week," said Charlotte, very pleascd to be able to
discuss this topic with him. "I was sure you would approve.
It is making such a difference in Arthur's outlook already. l
remember your once saying some buried inclination of his own
might stimulate him into exertion. And it has. He has forgotten
his own health completely in his passion for collecting seaweed
and his concern for Miss Lambe's comfort."
"And which of these inclinations has been lying dormant in poor
Arthur all these years?" wondered Sidney, looking across at his
brother. "There they sit, oblivious of nearly everyone else in
the room; and nobody except ourselves seems to notice what has
happened to them. They remind me of two babes in the wood --
or perhaps I should say, their forest of seaweed? I agree the
change in Arthur is so striking that I am more amazed than ever
Diana does not see what is in front of her eyes. According to
Tom, she is too busy concentrating on the vagaries of her
imagination." He paused for a moment, and after a little
thoughtfulness, added, "Do <1you>1 think it is only Diana's imagina-
tion, Miss Heywood?"
The question revived all Charlotte's agitation. To her dismay
she discovered she was beginning to breathe far too quickly; and
though she felt the necessity of speaking, she felt the impossi-
bility of entering on such a subject even more.
I am sorry -- that is -- my attention must have been wan-
dering -- it appears -- I am afraid I was thinking of something
else," she finished lamely.
Her eyes were fixed on the ground and she wished for a move-
ment of the dance to separate them for the present. But there
was no such fortunate interruption; and after waiting a few
moments in an agony of apprehension, she heard Sidney say with
some amusement in his voice.
"Exactly what were you thinking, Miss Heywood?
The absolute compulsion of replying and continuing the con-
versation produced an immediate struggle and lent Charlotte the
courage she required. Raising her head with renewed spirit,
she said the first thing that came into her mind.
"I was thinking how very strange it was that you should have
just abandoned Mr. Brudenall to Miss Denham if you wished him
to survive his cousin's wedding night as effortlessly as possible."
The sudden frown which flitted across Sidney's face was
enough to convince her he had certainly not intended she should
share this intelligence. But Sidney was always very quick to
recover from any reverse.
"Oh, Sanditon has been working wonders with Henry. He
is making a splendid recovery. But I do agree I must be more
methodical about those wedding days. I should have noted down
in my diary which date separate people have in mind."
"Then you do admit you have been misleading everyone about
Mr. Brudenall and his cousin?" Charlotte demanded defiantly.
"I wonder if there was actually any wedding day at all."
"One day I shall tell you," Sidney promised her. "Believe
me, there is nothing I should like better than to take you fully
into my confidence now. But in a ballroom lengthy explanations
are impossible. All I will beg at the moment is that you trust
me a little longer, and never believe <1any>1 of the stories my family
may tell you." And he said this so solemnly that Charlotte was
once again flustered into silence. It was only when their dance
was over, and she had time to think about it later, that she
realised Sidney parker had succeeded both in reading her
thoughts and evading her questions.
She hardly knew how the remainder of her own evening wore
away. She began not to understand a word anyone said and
scarcely to distinguish between her partners. She danced and
chatted and pretended everything was normal but her eyes
seemed to follow Sidney of their own accord and she envied
every one of his partners. They covered a wide selection; and she
had no difficulty in distinguishing between <1them>1 at all -- the
Miss Beauforts, Miss Denham and Miss Brereton. He even
persuaded Miss Lambe to dance with him for half a set before
he returned her to Arthur and sat with them both for half an hour.
He then took both his sisters in to supper; and finally sat out
another dance with Lady Denham -- with whom he appeared to
be on the best of terms -- before returning to Charlotte to claim
the last dance of the evening.
"Come, Miss Heywood," he said, holding out his hand. "I
have taken the greatest compassion on your position all evening;
you cannot refuse to dance with me again now. Diana will be so
disappointed if we do not give her a little more to talk about; and
you can keep your eyes on the floor for the whole set if that makes
you feel Mary will not censure your conduct."
Charlotte could not have refused him. When she told herself
that this might be the last time she would dance with him--
perhaps even the last time she would see him -- she felt hot tears
pricking at the back of her eyelids; and his very kindness to her
made self-possession more difficult than ever to maintain. Her
heart was now too heavy and her thoughts too painful for much
dissemblance; to keep her eyes downcast on the floor had become
more a necessity than a ruse.
Sidney talked away easily on indifferent subjects as though he
never expected her to reply; but at one point he did introduce
a note of sympathetic understanding.
"I am indeed sorry I cannot stay behind in Sanditon to protect
you from my family, Miss Heywood. But if I were you, I would
behave very coldly to Diana for the next few days. It should at
least keep <1her>1 in her place if you make it clear how offended you
are over the blackberry syllabub." Charlotte did look up, once,
rather blankly. "Well, surely you must have noticed at supper
what a disaster that was? I admit it seemed like any ordinary
syllabub to me too; but according to Diana it was a very inferior
variety indeed. Some villain called Duckworth seems to have
been responsible for it. She has been entirely deceived in him and
he turns out to have no talent for cooking at all. No lemons to
bring out the flavour] Who could have expected such an
omission merely because she forgot to go along and supervise this
Duckworth making it up? Her own special recipe was complete-
ly ignored. The poor man could not find where she had put it so
used his own initiative and did what he could: sack instead of
Rhenish and a glass bowl instead of an earthenware pot. Diana
says the result was deplorable."
Charlotte had eaten nothing at supper, had not even seen the
syllabub and had forgotten her exertions in collecting the baskets
of blackberries that morning. She was reminded of them only
when Sidney ran a finger lightly across a scratch on the back of
her hand.
"So all these bramble marks were earned for nothing] You
must show Diana how much you resent being tricked into
collecting a lot of unnecessary blackberries. It is all her fault --
though, of course, being Diana, she is busily dividing the blame
between the unfortunate Duckworth and myself. In fact I am
honoured with a very liberal share in the business] She says it
was my arrival and my nonsense which put everything else out
of her head. Oh, Diana is so vexed -- her syllabub was a failure,
the Assembly is mined and she does not know what she has ever
done to be inflicted with such a tiresome brother]"
He talked on in this playful style; but Charlotte would have gone
through their whole dance in silence if he had not, towards the very
end, given her hand a light pressure and said kindly,
"Do not look so worried, Miss Heywood. By this time my
folly of the morning has been well driven home to me by my
entire family; and I sincerely apologise for all the embarrassment
it has caused you. At least say you forgive me."
"There is nothing to forgive," said Charlotte simply, feeling a
constriction in her throat. It was not possible for her to sty
more but she managed to glance up with a smile of reassurance.
She thought she understood him, and was very much affected by
the view of his disposition which this appeal indicated: it was an
impulse of good nature and a proof of his own warm and amiable
heart, which she could not contemplate without emotions so
compounded of pleasure and pain that she knew not which
prevailed. But the remembrance of his appeal would at least
remain a pleasure to her, comprising as it did his perception of her
embarrassment and his resolution of parting- with her on friendly
terms.
"Thank you," he said, smiling back at her. "That gives me hope
that my journey to Sanditon has not been the complete disaster
I feared, "
She was glad Sidney felt he could now drive back to London
with a clear conscience; she was glad she had done nothing which
might have betrayed her too obviously. But the evening had
seemed to her almost endless; and she was convinced at least one
person in Sanditon, whom she had always suspected of conspiracy
and deceit, now bore a more satisfied and complacent mind than
her own, when Miss Brereton said on the way downstairs, with
the same happy sparkle she had shown on the way up,
"Oh] my dear Miss Heywood] How soon it is all at an end]
l wish we could have it all over again]"
CHAPTER 27
CHARLOTTE had by no means exhausted all the emotions pos-
sible in a young woman who has the misfortune to fall in love
without any assurance her affections are returned. Happiness
and pain, agitation and uncertainties had been lived through in a
state of alternating dreams and doubt. For many mornings she
had awoken with thoughts of Sidney, had relaxed against her
pillows for the first half hour of every day, remembering sentences
he had spoken, jokes they had shared, fleeting expressions which
had crossed his face as he listened to others talking. And then one
day had been crowded with so many events, to which she responded
with such intensity, that the blankness of the days which followed
caught her unawares. She was not prepared for the reaction of
numb misery which now set in.
Common sense had at last reasserted itself: it told her all was
now at an end: it warned her that she must teach herself to be
insensible towards Sidney parker; and though her heart still
dictated periods of abstraction, they were no longer so heedless
and never pleasant. She could only hope this single-minded
obsession, which occupied all her thoughts, clouded every present
prospect of enjoyment and deadened all her earlier interest in the
Sanditon scene, would be softened by time and change. The
remembrance of this interlude might become happy and natural
again, when some of her peculiar attachment to him had faded,
when she could look back on it all from the security of her own
quiet home. Then she would at least have the recollection that
such things had been, which could never be looked for again, and
which could never cease to be dear to her.
The morning after the Assembly, Charlotte broached anew
the subject of her departure from Sanditon as the best and most
effective cure she could devise for herself. She had relinquished
any hope that she would see Sidney again before she left, and was
now only anxious to remove herself from this background which
carried too many associations.
The parkers were still reluctant to lose their young guest, said
a great many kind things in protest, and offered her their carriage
to drive the whole way whenever she wished; and finally agreed
with her suggestion that she write to her father proposing a date
in the second week of September for her removal.
Once Charlotte had written her letter and gained her point, the
remaining days she was to spend in Sanditon became precious
to her again, with all the gentle melancholy of something she was
about to lose. From stretching emptily ahead of her, as they
had done immediately after the Assembly, her days began to fill
up with little incidents, with sights and sounds and impressions
of a peaceful, sunlit beauty in sea and sky, which never wearied
her as she sat in contemplation of them.
She continued to spend part of her time rambling about the
countryside with regular walking parties the young people of
Sanditon were still eagerly promoting. The Miss Beauforts were
to be found on the Terrace every morning with suggestions of yet
another route for the party to explore, another lane they had
discovered and with more vivacious conversation to engage their
walking partners. Sir Edward was still at hand to keep his usual
proprietary eye on Miss Brereton, who seemed equally determined
to continue the daily encounters; and even without Sidney Parker,
Miss Denham evidently found the young men from the hotel still
worthy of her attention.
Charlotte was always happy to walk with Reginald on these
excursions and listen to his ready jumble of chatter, laced with an
occasional spice of wisdom -- invariably prefaced by "Sidney
says." He made few claims to any opinions of his own, and
Charlotte soon learned to distinguish between his usual muddle of
conversation and the pungent remarks of Sidney, even when he
failed to attribute them. She also learned how useless it was to
ask Reginald any direct questions about his stay in Sanditon.
His vagueness and his laughter only increased whenever she tried
to discover how long he and Henry Bmdenall intended to remain
there. Well, of course, he had no immediate plans -- fortunately
his time was his own -- no real point in making definite decisions
for a while -- it all depended on Sidney -- then of course Henry's
sailing date was unsettled -- his own friends in Brighton could
wait a little longer -- and, in short, it was very agreeable to be
staying on among such pleasant company in so quiet a resort.
Charlotte listened, but without quite understanding it. Here
was a complete reversal of Reginald's opinions since his first day
in Sanditon when he was impatient to return to Brighton as soon
as possible] She smiled at his lack of method in now professing
c)pinions in absolute contradiction to those originally expressed,
but forbore to tease him by pointing out this inconsistency. But
she could not be satisfied, and had the sensation of there being
something quite curious in his present arrangements.
Charlotte also spent many of her mornings on the shore line
with Arthur and Miss Lambe. She watched the sea gulls wheeling
and swooping, while Miss Lambe busily sketched her seaweed
specimens and Arthur paddled happily about among the rocks.
None of them spoke a great deal on these occasions. A few
comments of sincere admiration from Charlotte when she inspected
the latest drawings, and a few pensive remarks in reply often
comprised the whole of the ladies' morning conversation, their
silent companionship being intermpted only by a few gleeful
shouts from Arthur whenever his prod emerged successful from
a rocky pool. The little that Miss Lambe did say was always to
the point; but sometimes she surprised Charlotte by beginning
in the middle of her thoughts with some shy and ingenuous
statement.
"lf I could spend my whole life by the sea, I would be perfectly
happy," she had said one day after sketching for half an hour in
silence.
On another,
"How fortunate you are to have sisters and brothers of your
own. You need never be lonely."
And finally,
"I wish you would call me Adela."
These remarks were never adorned by the extravagant em-
bellishments the Miss Beauforts would have found it necessary
to add. And Charlotte responded to them in the same simple
terms, appreciating the bright quality of warmth Adela so often
hid before strangers and her unfailingly sensitive awareness to
even the unspoken opinions of the few friends she valued.
One morning when Charlotte called at the corner house to
meet her, she found Adela silently assembling her drawing
materials, more intent than ever on her own thoughts. She barely
uttered a greeting, could scarcely raise a smile, and, turning away
quickly to select her paint brushes, said very suddenly with her
back towards Charlotte,
"Before we go down to the beach, there is something I should
like to tell you," pausing in a rather nervous way. "Arthur has
asked me to marry him and I have agreed." She glanced round
with a brief look of appeal. "I hope you will not think it very
wrong in me. I will never be strong and healthy but I am not a
complete invalid; and fortunately I have inherited quite enough
money never to be any sort of burden on a husband." And
then, with a great rush of words to cover up a mounting embar-
rassment. "We intend to build a house for ourselves here in
Sanditon, ro invite Mrs. Griffiths to live with us and look after
us both -- oh] please say you do not think it is such a foolish idea
of ours."
Charlotte heard the quiver in her voice, could imagine the
tears in Adela's eyes, and feeling words inadequate at that moment,
went to her immediately and embraced her. But even on this
emotional occasion, Adela could not express her feelings directly.
"You, I hope, can understand how such a thing could have
happened. But do you think -- would you help us by explaining
it to his brothers and sisters? Can you make them <1see>1 that Arthur
wilI never have any cause to regret taking such a step? I am sure
-- in short -- I know he will be happy. We are both so very fond
of seaweed."
Once Charlotte might have wanted to laugh at such a con-
clusion. But the deep regard Arthur and Adela had for each
other was so apparent to her that she could understand their
reserve, their constraint to discuss it before others. She had
grown very fond of them both, and was herself quite confident
of the perfect compatibility of the match; but they lacked the
assurance to admit their mutual affection even to her. Even before
her, they spoke not of their attachment but of their apprehensions
-- Arthur thinking his sisters would find it very odd in <1him>1 to be
wanting to marry, and Adela positive they would disapprove.
They were, indeed, so bashful about their plans, so nervous
of everyone's reaction to their engagement, that all Charlotte s
persuasion was required before they would even reveal it to Mrs.
Griffiths. Arthur's stumbling avowal and Adela's apologetic
explanations were then met with such calm good sense that they
both began to feel their plans were not so outlandish after all,
and to hope their acquaintance in general might even regard a
marriage between them as quite normal.
But Charlotte and Mrs. Griffiths were perhaps the only people
in Sanditon who were not surprised by the engagement. To
everyone else it was more than the proverbial nine days' wonder --
it was the sensation of the season. Various combinations of
various names had occurred to various people, but never this
one.
The Miss parkers repeated "Impossible]" with great vigour to
each other many times before they could be brought to modify
it to "Most extraordinary]" in front of Arthur and a mere "Quite
remarkable]" before Adela. It was still the oddest thing that
ever was, and neither of them could understand it. Arthur to be
getting married] Arthur in the role of a husband]
Mr. parker did his optimistic best in persuading them both it
was a very desirable match. He was certain Arthur could learn
to look after himself in time. Arthur's needs were simple and
he had never been in danger of overspending his own small
income. But had his sisters considered this large fortune of
Miss Lambe's which would now make everything easy for him?
The existence of the fortune had been taken for granted for so long
that Adela's modest style of living and diffident behaviour had,
in fact, led the Miss parkers to overlook it in their first reactions
to the engagement. When its full extent now became known <1to>1
them, they were so awed by its amount they had not another
word to add in dissent. Who would ever have believed Arthur
capable of doing so well for himself?
Within twenty-four hours the "Impossible]" had been trans-
formed into the feasible. All highly desirable] Most delightful]
The most sensible thing Arthur had ever done]
The parkers were not a mercenary family; but a fortune, though
they had not sought it, they naturally considered a very good
thing to have in any family. And yet this fortune, which was an
afterthought to them, and almost an irrelevance to Arthur and
Adela themselves, was immediately assumed by the rest of Sandi-
ton to be the entire reason for the match.
Lady Denham, mourning it on Sir Edward's behalf, had always
been certain somebody would make a determined effort to seize
hold of it before the end of the season.
"Lord bless me, such chances do not often occur] If I told Sir
Edward once, I told him a thousand times not to be letting the
grass grow under his feet; but I observed how pitiful were his
efforts. The few smirks he gave in Miss Lambe's direction were
not likely to profit him. And so I told him. But, between our-
selves, this reverse may set him down a peg or two. He is far
too fond of strutting about and thinking to himself what a fine
young man he is] Oh, you may be sure I gave him many a hint
that any of those three young men from the hotel could walk
off with our heiress under his very nose. And now even Mr.
Arthur parker has done it] Oh well, if Miss Esther still manages
to fix Mr. Sidney Parker, I will not regard the season as com-
pletely wasted."
Though neither Miss Beaufort nor Miss Letitia had ever ele-
vated Arthur parker to the status of a real beau, they were sorry
<1to>1 lose him as an elegible bachelor and their earliest admirer in
Sanditon. But they were philosophic about the match -- the
fortune, of course, explained it all. And it was better to lose
Arthur in such a cause than any of the four other candidates.
They outdid each other in extravagant and insincere compliments
to "dear Adela" on her "conquest," while satisfying their own
vanity by the persuasion that Arthur still admired them a great
deal more than his chosen bride; and that if they had fifty thou-
sand pounds apiece, they would never throw themselves away on
such a pudding.
To Mr. parker, Miss Lambe's determination to settle in Sandi-
ton outweighed almost everything else. For although she was
unwilling to speak of her affection for Arthur, Adela was for-
tunately not so inhibited in etpressing her warm admiration of
Sanditon. Her praise was enough to make her a first favourite
with Mr. parker; and he was amazed that Arthur should have had
the sense to choose such an intelligent wife.
Mrs. parker's quiet acceptance of her new sister-in-law was
everything that it should be. She sought her frequent company,
kindly offered her assistance in all her plans, and was as pleased as
her husband to feel they could soon number near relations as near
neighbours.
"Well, this news makes some amends to us for losing our own
dear guest," she said on the evening of the Monday which had
revealed the engagement to her. Charlotte had heard from her
father that same morning: he proposed sending the family coach
to meet her in Hailsham the following Thursday. "And perhaps,
my dear, as you and Adela have become such firm friends, we
may often expect you here again at Sanditon. You will always
be very welcome at Trafalgar House; but I am sure Arthur and
Adela will claim you as one of their first guests when they build
their new home."
Charlotte smiled rather sadly at these plans for future visits,
which only succeeded in depressing her. She knew her friendship
with Arthur and Adela would always give some sweetness to
the memory of her stay in Sanditon, though it could take only
a very minor place among her recollections of that summer; a
summer such as she could seldom remember -- scarcely any rain
and no storm of consequence.
It was with a certain relief that she greeted a clap of thunder
that evening, as though proving to her the weather could be less
than perfect even in Sanditon. But the summer storm which
this heralded was so violent that by tea-time she was sharing
her host's fears for his tiles, his canopy and his new plantation,
A cold stormy rain set in, accompanied by such tempestuous gales
that it seemed everything outside the house must be despoiled as
everything inside was being rattled and shaken.
The storm continued with unabated fury all night; and Charlotte,
lying sleepless for many hours, could hear the waves pounding
along the beach and the rain lashing against the windows, with
every now and then a crash of thunder which eclipsed even these
powerful sounds.
The winds seemed to hurl themselves at Trafalgar House,
whistling through the young plantation, down the chimneys,
raging against this stubborn block of resistance on the top of the
hill, tearing Mr. Parker's gay canvas awning from its stanchions
in protest, and ripping it into shreds as a violent proof of dis-
pleasure.
CHAPTER 28
IT WAS SUMMER again when Charlotte awoke; the sea was calm
the clouds had all been carried away and the sun shone down on
the havoc caused by the storm of the previous night.
The parkers' first object, after breakfast, was to inspect the
damage the wind and rain had wrought in all their favourite
corners. Mr. parker, with three uprooted trees to reourn in his
plantation, could only shake his head at the canvas awning
completely beyond repair. Mrs. parker, rejoicing in only one
broken pane in her greenhouse, helped Mary to disentangle her
swing from overhanging branches, consoled her boys for the loss
of their tree house and scolded them soundly for two sodden
books and a coat found lying in a puddle of mud.
Charlotte shared and sympathised in all these family concerns;
but having walked all round the shrubbery to report upon hy-
drangeas and rhododendrons, pointed out two tiles missing from
the roof and a lopsided weather vane, she paused for a moment
on the edge of the lawn, wondering how much farther afield to
wander in search of fresh disaster.
And as she stood there, surveying the distant flotsam washed
up on the beach, she saw Reginald Catton and Henry Brudenall
pass through the entrance gates, change direction on perceiving
her and walk towards her instead of the house. The gravity of
both their faces surprised her; and she had no need of their con-
strained "How-do-you-dos to inform her that they intended
something out of the ordinary in this morning call.
But though neither of them looked or spoke cheerfully enough
to make the encounter appear normal, they seemed unwilling to
venture beyond a few vague comments on the storm, the wind
and the despoiled trees across the down; and both soon fell into
an uneasy silence.
Convinced as she was that each was waiting for the other to
begin, Charlotte made no attempt at conversation herself. She
glanced only from one to the other, trying to guess their purpose,
while the conviction grew in her that they had heard something
from Sidney which caused concern to them both. She was sure
whatever they had to impart would be disagreeable and the
reluctance to tell her arose from their uncertainty over the extent
of her own friendship with him. She did not feel equal to opening
any such subject herself, but looked anxiously towards Reginald,
expecting he would be the most likely of the two friends to lead
the way. But it was Henry Brudenall who finally cleared his
throat and began,
"Miss Heywood, if you have time to spare us, there is something
of great importance we should like to tell you."
The belief that it was indeed Sidney-- that he had met with
some accident during the previous night's storm, had taken part in
a duel or been overturned in his carriage -- flashed one after
another through her mind: all immediately suggested by her
fears as possible causes for so solemn a communication.
Scarcely knowing what she did or how she spoke, she had
faltered no more than his name, when Reginald impetuously
intermpted his friend.
"No, no -- it is not Sidney," he cried, taking her hand with a
ready understanding which showed more feeling than sense.
"How hopeless you are, Henry. It has nothing to do with
Sidney, I swear it, Miss Heywood."
A good deal surprised by his warmth and a good deal ashamed
of her sudden weakness, Charlotte mastered enough of her
agitation to beg him to speak and tell her the reason for such
wretched suspense. The seriousness of his manner had by now
prepared her, quite as much as his words, for something extraor-
dinary. But Reginald, having made this one rapid outburst
seemed to consider any further communication would be best made
by Mr. Brudenall; and looking impatiently towards his friend,
urged him to continue; while he, with a heightened colour and
a hurried manner, floundered into yet another beginning.
"Miss Heywood, the fact is that we -- that I -- have come to
ask your help. Believe me, if there was another person in Sandi-
ton at this moment to whom I could appeal, l would prefer to
approach them. l know you will not wish to be consulted; I
know you will not approve of what I shall ask -- "
Charlotte could only stare at him in utter amazement while
Reginald Catton, throwing up his hands in despair, said bluntly,
"He means Miss Brereton has told him you would not approve
of their elopement."
<1"Their>1 elopemeno Is Miss Brereton planning to elope with
<1Mr. Brudenalo">1
A sudden wave of relief swept over her; and Charlotte instantly
recognised this was not merely relief that Clara Brereton had no
intention of eloping with Sir Edward. The real possibility she
dreaded had never done more than cross the confines of her
imagination to be instantly dismissed again. But she was honest
enough with herself to recognise it had always been there to haunt
her from the background. She had dreaded it so much she had
never admitted or allowed herself to dwell on the possibility: that
it was Sidney himself who was involved with Clara.
"Only thing to be done now," said Reginald with a certain
gloomy satisfaction. "Henry sails on Friday and it is too late
to do anything else. What is the use in going on talking and
contriving and achieving nothing? For weeks they have been
trying to work out some better solution. Henry always wanted
straightforward action: simply to tell Lady Denham he had
Come to take Clara away; but the Breretons were so determined
to keep their foothold with her, so frightened she would leave all
her money to these Hollises or Denhams instead of to them, that
they begged Clara to get her cousin installed in the place before
upsetting the old lady. But Clara must be made to see there is
no time for such fingle-fangling now."
Charlotte looked her astonishment at these surprising and
somewhat sketchy revelations, feeling she should at least phrase a
few questions which would make Reginald's confused sentences
more intelligible to her. But before she could exert herself, he had
rushed on.
"If Sidney were here, he might be able to get round the old
lady and make her consent to it all reasonably enough. But
she's much too selfish and set in her ways to be talked into sense
by any of us before Henry's ship sails. She hates anything to
upset her routine. The performance she gave and the fidgets she
went through before Sidney could get her to invite Elizabeth
Brereton to Sanditon] He thought he had arranged all that in
time. But now we seem to be a day or two behind in our calcula-
tions. This <1is>1 the Tuesday Clara is supposed to be meeting her
cousin at Hailsham]"
"Yes, of course, I remember Miss Brereton's cousin was due to
arrive in Sanditon today," Charlotte said slowly, wondering
where all these details were expected to connect. "But what about
Mr. Brudenall's cousin?" she added, still groping to separate new
facts from old fiction.
"Clara Brereton is his cousin, insisted Reginald firmly. "Dis-
tant cousin on mother's side; and they <1have>1 been devoted to each
other since childhood. Sidney did spread a lot of moonshine
about a broken romance to confuse all the parkers, but he stuck
to the truth whenever he could. They are cousins and they
always intended to marry before Henry left for Bengal. There
was never any secrecy about it among the Breretons; but they
had not yet spoken of the engagement to outsiders when Lady
Denham interfered and complicated all their plans. <1She>1 took
an instant liking to Clara and settled on inviting her to Sanditon
House. The entire Brereton family entreated her to invite Eliza-
beth to stay with her instead. But no] She was certain there
was some trick in it somewhere. The more they tried to put her
off Clara, the more she insisted on having her; and she had become
so suspicious by this time, they decided the plain truth was too
much for her to accept without ill-will and disbelief. And as <1she>1
was so unreasonable, and <1they>1 were so anxious to keep on good
terms with her, they persuaded Clara to put up with the arrange-
ment for six months. Six months] It could be six years if
nobody does anything more about it. Sidney has been arguing
with Henry for months to come down and take Clara away from
Sanditon. And for weeks now he has argued with Clara that these
is no point in stretching this all out any longer. Let the old lady
leave her money to the Denhams instead of the Breretons. Why
should Henry and Clara have to suffer for io
"Why indeed?" cried Charlotte; and she spoke with such warmth
that Reginald, turning to his friend, cried triumphantly,
"There, what did I say, Henry? I told you Miss Heywood
would see everything the same way as we do. lt's not as though
Lady Denham were Clara's guardian. lf both your families
approve of her engagement to you, I have my doubts you can
even call this an elopement. Miss Heywood is sensible enough to
understand how it all is. You can see that for yourself, surely?
And, pray, Henry, do you now proceed."
Charlotte was only surprised that there still remained some-
thing left to get on with. Reginald's own style of communication
might be rapid, diffuse and disconnected, but the sentiments
expressed were plain and matter-of-fact enough. He did not
think very clearly and seldom gave himself the trouble of doing so
when he could rely on Sidney to advise him; but the few opinions
he did form were unshakable in both their honesty and common
sense. And as she listened to his recital, if it did not perfectly
justify an elopement, it proved Lady Denham to have been very
unfeeling and selfish in her conduct towards Clara, deficient alike
in sympathy and discernment. But Reginald had told her
nothing which did not accord with her own observation and
what she could imagine of Lady Denham. Her manoeuvres of
selfishness and cunning had always been offensive and her
reactions to any new suggestions had always been unpredictable.
Henry Brudenall had none of Reginald's gift for frank out-
bursts and, in Charlotte's estimation, had always been a romantic
and rather sombre figure. But now, as she faced him with an
encouraging smile, he suddenly transformed himself in front of
her eyes from a shadowy caricature into a real person. Con-
fronting her, deeply earnest and full of some sensitive emotion,
he said,
"Miss Heywood, do you remember the stream?"
"The stream?" echoed Charlotte in some bewilderment.
"The stream that flows from old Sanditon and is blocked by
the chesil where it reaches the open sea? I have been walking
along that path this morning. Do you remember the first day we
walked there and I said it was a poor stream to creep between
pebbles instead of driving them left and right in front of io"
"And Mr. parker agreed with you," cried Charlotte as a sudden
shaft of light revealed the key to that commonplace conversation.
"But Miss Brereton -- "
"Clara said it could not do that before the winter," said Mr.
Brudenall. "But it has broken through its ridge of pebbles this
morning. After the storm last night, the stream has swept
everything before it and is now flowing straight and unhampered
into the open sea. Do you not think this is a good omen for us?
Will you try and help me convince Clara this is so?"
"Really, Henry]" Reginald interrupted with exasperation.
"What have all these streams and omens got to do with the case?
Show Miss Heywood that letter you had in the post this morning
to say your ship has sailing orders from Hull instead of London.
Tell her you now have to spend three days travelling there instead
of one. Explain that Sidney is not yet back with his carriage to
take you there, that Clara will have to leave with you this
morning instead of meeting her cousin at Hailsham. And for
heaven's sake, stop wasting precious time with streams flowing
to the open sea."
Charlotte laughed at such a typical outcry; Reginald's prosaic
manner might never have won him the hand of so romantic and
fascinating a heroine as Clara Brereton; but having won it, she
felt he would have carried her off with more resolution and less
fastidiousness than his friend. His blunt announcement that an
elopement which had the blessing of both their families could
scarcely even merit the term had convinced Charlotte that some
of the scruples over such proceedings could more easily be
waived. If Lady Denham's eccentricity was the only obstacle to
the match, she felt she should offer what help might be required
towards overcoming it.
"Tell me what you are expecting me to do?" she asked Henry,
But she was not at all surprised when it was Reginald who
rapidly unfolded their present plans. His barouche, he explained,
could hardly carry the fugitives all the way to Hull. They must
drive with him to Brighton and hire a postchaise for the longer
journey. Would she agree to accompany himself and Henry
immediately and waylay Clara Brereton as she set off for Hail-
sham to meet her cousin? Clara could then write a brief note of
explanation to Lady Denham for her cousin Elisabeth to deliver.
Charlotte would take her place in Lady Denham's coach and meet
Elizabeth Brereton in Hailsham; and Elizabeth -- sensible, good-
humoured and well aware of the whole situation -- could
competently be left to deal with the tangle once she had been
allowed inside Sanditon House.
"But what," said Charlotte with some hesitation, "If Miss
Brereton does not agree to all this? If she has been unwilling to
consent to an elopement, and waiting till her cousin arrives before
entering on any explanations with Lady Denham, do you think
she will now throw all caution to the winds and risk her disap-
proval at the last minute?"
"She must," said Reginald with childlike simplicity. "Henry
has already postponed his departure for India three times. He
cannot be kept dangling about forever in England doing nothing.
Oh, his father has promised to arrange Clara's passage and have
her follow him; his family will do all they can to send her out to
join Henry whenever she may. But surely she will see that more
delays and postponements are hardly worth the risk? lt is a
long way to Bengal and many things may happen during such a
separation. If she loves Henry, she must now trust him to decide
their future. Sidney told her himself," he added impressively,
"That their whole chance of happiness might depend on her seizing
one particular moment and acting on it before it was too late.
Why spend a lifetime, as Sidney says, regretting wasted opportu-
nities?"
Sidney's opinion carried even more conviction to Charlotte.
For him, these sudden plans would have brought no element of
surprise. He had been advising his friends how they should act
for many weeks now and had been able to decide on their future
Without haste and without confusion; and she was all at once
quite certain that Sidney's principles could be relied on.
"I will be with you in a moment, she said, beginning to dart
away, but not so impetuously that several very practical sugges-
tions had not already raced through her mind. "I will need a
wrap for the journey to Hailsham; and I must give some excuse to
Mrs. parker for being absent the whole day."
It also occurred to her that she was the first of this little group to
be committing herself to carrying through this deception, when
she appeared round the greenhouse door a few moments later and
told Mrs. Parker a downright lie in a steady voice.
"I hope you will not mind, ma'am. Miss Brereton has just
come to beg for my company on her journey to Hailsham. We
would be away the whole day meeting her cousin there -- have
you any objection to this?"
Should she have complicated the whole story by a stammering
long-winded explanation that Miss Brereton had not come herself
but sent two young men, seemingly unconnected with this journey,
as her emissaries? Unused to taking risks and intimidated by
her own bravado, Charlotte held her breath at the possibility that
Mrs. parker might put down her gardening fork and hospitably
decide to greet Miss Brereton in person. The pause which
followed was very dreadful to her; and she could only command
an outward composure by trying to look as unruffled as she knew
Sidney would have been in the same circumstances.
"What, my dear? No, no -- not at all -- if you would like to
go," replied Mrs. parker at last, raising her eyes from her flower-
pots and bedding trays but leaving her mind resting behind on
them. "Of course it will be more pleasant for Miss Brereton to
have company on the journey. The carnation cuttings are
coming along beautifully, you see. Only two plants damaged by
that broken pane --l have cleared away all the bits of glass
already. What a pity she did not suggest this earlier] Be sure to
take something warm -- the weather seems so changeable at the
moment. No good at all letting old Andrew transplant anything
out of doors. Well my dear, we shall expect you back by dinner
then?"
And Charlotte, making good her escape, realised she had
gravely misled an open-hearted person for the first time in her
life; and also that she felt not the slightest guilt in having done
so. Because Mrs. parker <1was>1 guileless, her task had been easier;
but it did not follow that such innocent people should against
their will be involved in a similar predicament to her own. Mrs.
Parker would be much more contented for the moment to know
nothing whatsoever about an elopement; and Charlotte could
honestly believe that in suppressing the tmth, she was protecting
her.
This comforting theory remained with her as she accompanied
the young men down to the hotel; and helped console her further
when she encountered the curious stares of the Miss Beauforts
from the balcony of the corner house, as they drove in the
barouche out of the hotel yard. She voiced only a mild protest to
Reginald.
"Do you not think all that luggage at the back must present
rather an odd appearance to anyone who sees us?"
"Henry can hardly set out for India without clean shirts," he
replied sagely. "And do you blame me for packing up my few
things too? No sense at all in my staying in Sanditon now and
facing up to that old lady's tantrums. I am very sorry, of course,
that you may come in for some of them yourself. But it would
scarcely help <1you>1 if I remained behind too, you know. Bound
to be uncomfortable whichever way you look at it."
Charlotte had no quarrel to find with the soundness of this
reasoning; and though still amazed to find herself taking part in
so unlikely an adventure, was perfectly willing to bear the conse-
quences on her own return. She felt some criosity, however,
to meet Miss Elizabeth Brereton, who appeared destined for the
role of her fellow scapegoat. A few enquiries of Mr. Brudenall
elicited the information that Miss Elizabeth was thirtyish, kind
and resourceful -- the very companion who should suit Lady
Denham admirably if she could only step over her threshold --
a companion chosen long ago by her relatives as much more to her
tastes than Clara, and far more capable of standing up for herself
in any given situation.
Charlotte began to hope the whole incident might turn out












































































more pleasantly and more satisfactorily for everybody than she
had first imagined. She had several uneasy moments, some
twinges of doubt and a good deal of apprehension as they waited
on the Hailsham road for Lady Denham's carriage to appear;
but Reginald's cheerful certainty in the journey's being no elope-
ment at all, and Henry's steady trust in Clara's own reactions <1to>1
this sudden wild proposal had already made her believe his plans
were far less preposterous than they had seemed only an hour
before. She had been willing to help him then from instinct
alone; but logic witheld its approval of her decision till she had
witnessed the scene of meeting between Henry and Clara.
She could then have no further doubts. Once she had seen
them together, she was determined they should stay together.
She was only astonished she had never noticed their complete
absorption in each other before. How could she have missed that
soft glow of warmth in Clara's eyes when she looked at him?
Or that unmistakably tender quality which crept into Henry's
voice when he spoke to her? True, they were no longer dis-
sembling before strangers but discussing their most intimate
affairs before proven friends. But in failing to recognise some-
thing of this devotion to each other, Charlotte realised her powers
of observation must indeed have been severely clouded for the
past month. Had she ever, in fact, seen them <1together>1 before?
Connecting Clara with Sir Edward and Henry with his fictitious
cousin, she had <1looked>1 at them together but <1seen>1 them apart.
And they had been acting their parts to preserve this illusion. But
now all reserve was at an end, and with it any pretence on Clara's
side that she would be unwilling to elope with Henry at any time
he decided such a measure was essential to their happiness. In-
deed her only concern, after staring and listening and agreeing
with a now animated Henry Brudenall, was voiced in one feeble
and very feminine objection.
"But Henry -- after all this time -- to be leaving Sanditon
without any preparation at all] Nothing with me for the journey]
My clothes, books -- possessions -- " in some confusion, it
must seem ridiculous to you but -- "
"Oh, we have prepared for all that]" cried Reginald with an-
other of his completely practical interruptions. "Sidney said
he knew just how it would be once we ever reached this point.
He said your own things could be sent after you when he managed
to prise them out of Lady Denham; but in the meantime he sent
my sisters on a shopping expedition last time he was in London.
Very good taste, my sisters. Shrewd too. Laura writes that
none of the clothes you have now would have been a bit of use to
you in India anyway. Whalebone stays for instance -- they
rot in the heat. Did you know thao Well, you must have solid
silver ones when you become a memsahib, Laura tells me. I
dare say you would never have planned out these details for
yourself -- but your new wardrobe is all in that black trunk at
the back; and Sidney says it is to be our wedding present -- his
and mine."
Miss Brereton smiled her appreciation of this admirable fore-
sight and, taking Henry's hand, climbed into the barouche
without further argument.
"Perhaps you and Mr. parker would also like to write the
letter I should leave for Lady Denham," she suggested with gentle
irony.
"No, no," disclaimed Reginald. "Henry can dictate a letter
much better than I. But it must be done now. Miss Heywood
will hand it to your cousin Elizabeth at Hailsham -- and she will
be able to give it to Lady Denham when she arrives at Sanditon
House. Much the best plan all round] A few sentences will
do -- but you and Henry can word them best."
All the same, Charlotte noticed, it was Reginald who had
provided himself with paper and ink for the purpose; and having
extracted them from his travelling case and handed them into the
barouche, he walked with Charlotte a little way down the road to
allow them to compose the letter.
As you can plainly see now, Miss Heywood, Henry is a
romantic idiot -- and Clara not a great deal better," he said with
affectionate tolerance. Sidney says they are both like characters
who just stepped out of fairy tales instead of houses. Any fairy
tale at all, he says. Clara, he decided, could be Cinderella, Snow
White or Sleeping Beauty and Henry could be any of the princes.
And they have about as much idea how to manage things for
themselves as any such hero and heroine. Unless a fairy god-
mother or a lilac fairy comes along and makes everything right
for them, they would go on dreaming impossible fantasies and
never get anything done at all. They have both been so com-
pliant towards everyone else for so long that nothing was ever
resolved upon for themselves. Far more feeling than common
sense. Their hearts have belonged to each other for years -- but
would <1they>1 ever have united them without our interference?
As Sidney says, meddling is a talent he was born with but had to
start teaching me from our first term at school when we both
met Henry."
"You have known each other as long as thao"
"Forever," said Reginald simply. "We are going to miss Henry
in Bengal. He will have to learn to look after Clara but whom
will we practise our skills upon in future?"
"perhaps you will find a Clara of your own," Charlotte said
lightly and was only conscious after she had said it that, whereas
Reginald spoke in the plural, she had confined herself to the
singular. She coloured a little at this slip but he appeared to
accept it quite naturally.
"Ah, but perhaps it is only the romantic Henrys who call forth
such devotion," he sighed. "Do you think any Clara would run
half across the world with me if l asked her? No, there are people
who can inspire dreams and other people who can carry them
out. And on the whole I feel more comfortable with the second
best choice, though Sidney says -- " But Charlotte was not fated
to hear what Sidney had to say on this interesting subject. "Hullo,
have they finished their letter already? Yes, Henry, we are
coming."
Now all their preparations were complete and all her anxieties
over, Clara Brereton wanted only a few last words with Charlotte
before they set off. There was a new glow of animation on her
face and her eyes were alight with excitement and anticipation:
that total lack of constraint and radiant delight Charlotte had first
noticed in her on the morning of their sea bathe. She remembered
now that had been the morning of Henry Brudenall's arrival in
Sanditon. Clara spoke very quickly -- in a great rush -- as
though she would never be able to finish all that she had to
say.
"I can never thank you enough, dear, dear Miss Heywood. I
could never have left Sanditon without knowing Elizabeth would
soon be here. In agreeing to drive with Saunders in the coach
to Hailsham, you will finish what I have been trying to do here.
Tell Elizabeth I would have liked to wait for her -- so much
kindness I owe her family, I would have been glad to repay as best
I could -- but Elizabeth will understand. She will make all right
with Lady Denham if anybody could."
"I wish," said Charlotte impulsively holding out her hand,
"that I had let you complete your explanation about this elope-
ment the day we drove to Brinshore. Did you ever realise I
thought it was Sir Edward you had in mind?"
"Sir Edward?" cried Clara in tones of genuine astonishment.
"You could have believed <1that>1 of me? It is a pity we never got
to know each other well enough to exchange opinions about
Sir Edward] Oh, his selfishness, his persistence] I never dared
tell Lady Denham how often he waylaid me without her knowl-
edge] And what stupid speeches and muddled proposals he
continually made] Lady Denham's fondness for him -- how
could I have undermined io Had I told her of his foolishness,
she would only have suspected me of setting her purposely against
the Denhams. But Sir Edward and his sister have complicated
everything for me as much as Lady Denham herself," with a sigh
of regret and a shrug of relief. "The more I came to know both the
Denhams, the more unpleasant I found them. Both of them
so grasping and servile and determined to ingratiate themselves
with Lady Denham. But I have never risked offending either
of them -- I am sure Elizabeth will handle that situation more
easily too. Now that I am really going with Henry, I begin to see
I should have done so long ago. I am not very clever at managing
people and should leave it to the Sidneys and the Elizabeths of the
world."
"And the Reginalds," interposed Mr. Catton with mock
jealousy as he took over the reins from his groom. "just what
I have been telling Miss Heywood myself. Now then, we must be
off. "
"And thank you, Miss Heywood, again and again," cried Clara.
Henry Brudenall was even more effusive. Leaning down from
the barouche at the last moment, he took both Charlotte's hands
in his, and with a great deal of genuine feeling but a trifle dramati-
cally nevertheless, cried,
"We may never meet again but Clara and I will remember all
our lives what you have done for us today. I wish we had known
earlier we could trust you so well. But I should have known --
I should have guessed what to expect from any friend of Sidney's.
God bless you, dear Charlotte."
Reginald, flourishing his whip on the box, was more prosaic
in his parting.
"Our regards to Sidney when you see him," he called cheerfully.
"He will be happy to learn how we all danced so merrily to his
tune in the end. Goodbye, goodbye."
Charlotte was left standing in the road. She watched the
barouche disappear out of sight before turning back to Lady
Denham's coach and the waiting coachman; and in the long
journey to Hailsham found time enough to indulge the thoughts
and reflections such a morning of unexpected activity had helped
her to resolve. She felt how improbable it was that she would
ever meet any of them again. Within a few days she herself
would have gone from Sanditon; and if Sidney Parker wished to
steer clear of trouble with the same natural inclination as his
friend Reginald, he would be wise to postpone his return there for
several weeks. This was not, however, a reaction she expected
from him. The disclosures of the morning had brought her a lot
closer to an understanding of his character; and she really believed
he would be prepared to face any amount of trouble and incon-
venience on behalf of his friends.
She realised now how well he had kept this secret, confounded
his family and done everything he could to help Henry and Clara
-- and all with that light-hearted gaiety which seemed to mean
nothing, but only hid everything. At last she could also under-
stand the reasons behind his pretence of a flirtation with herself,
readily acknowledged its usefulness in distracting the Parkers from
the real situation and forgave him for it without rancour.
She was perfectly convinced now that he never had any serious
design of engaging her affection. But with a strong desire to
please, lively powers of address and a great deal of charm, Sidney
had probably never realised how little he need do to captivate a
heart like hers which had known no such previous temptations.
And what in fact had he done which was not essential to his
main purpose of bringing Henry and Clara together? He had
insisted that Charlotte sit beside him on the drive to Brinshore
so that Henry and Clara could be granted several long and
necessary hours together to discuss their future. He had required
an excuse to return to Sanditon with Elizabeth Brereton's reply,
Clara's sea trunk and a final reassurance that all was in readiness
for Henry's sailing date. And what better excuse could he offer
to his inquisitive family than a mild flirtation? Diana's lively
imagination had already credited him with this -- but as usual,
she had muddled matters and selected Clara herself as his object.
To correct this mistaken impression, Sidney had tried to lead
her fantasies in a different direction.
Even then, he had been careful to do no more than place his
hand over Charlotte's in full view of his sister after everyone else
had left the tea rooms. He had practised no deceit; he had
frankly acknowledged his object to her immediately afterwards
and. confronted by an expostulating brother, had glibly produced
yet another excuse to account for his trip to Sanditon.
At the Assembly he had shown his good sense and his aware-
ness that the scheme had been carried far enough for his own
purposes and too far for her comfort by dancing with her just
enough to keep Diana guessing, leaving her alone for the rest of
the evening and apologising handsomely for his conduct.
Charlotte had her own suspicions that Sidney may have
realised by then that the prudence and common sense he teased her
about were no longer sufficient barriers to her falling in love if he
persisted in his attentions. Perhaps he had guessed it even earlier
in the tea rooms? But his kindness, frankness and cheerfulness
towards her had never varied. Beyond paying her a few charming
compliments and amusing her with gay conversation, had he
done anything at all to try and gain her affection? He had,
Charlotte remembered rather wryly, done nothing except -- in a
burst of typical high spirits -- bought and bestowed on her a
hideous little shell box, which she would keep as a treasured
memento. And she smiled to herself a little sadly when she
reflected that this -- her most precious souvenir of Sanditon --
was, in fact, labelled Brinshore.
The morning had indeed provided her with very full and detailed
reasons for any attentions Sidney had ever paid her; and this
rational explanation of them, which ended any hope she may have
had that they could ever have been serious, at least brought her
the consolation of being able to feel proud of him. She had
always admitted his charm but doubted his integrity; but now, in
finally losing what had never been hers, she found some comfort
in this new pride she could take in Sidney. His principles were
as steady as her own -- and he had a great deal more audacity in
practising them.
She had often compared him with his sister Diana and believed
his interference was as officious and improper as hers. It had
seemed that both of them took a delight in trying to modify the
course of other people's lives. Meddling or helping -- it came
to the same thing. But Sidney's solicitude for others had now
been proved beyond any doubt to be legitimate and open, entirely
prompted by genuine good will. He had no love of power for its
own sake, no conceit in doing more than anybody else, no
sentimentality about his duty to be useful to others. He merely
helped his friends when they were in need.
Of course Sidney could never have loved her] it had been
presumptuous of her ever to have imagined it. But he had liked
her, respected her and trusted her. At least, Charlotte decided
a little wistfully, at least she could be grateful for that.
CHAPTER29
DRIVING INTO HAILSHAM in Lady Denham's carriage, Char-
lotte felt anxious and uneasy as she contemplated her approaching
meeting with Miss Elizabeth Brereton. The two hours of her
journey,had been occupied solely with her own concerns; but
now she thrust these resolutely aside and began considering the
explanations she would soon be called upon to make, and hoping
Clara's reliance on her cousin's sympathetic response would be
quite justified. The stormier explanations, another two hours
hence, to an intolerant, suspicious -- perhaps even unreasonable
-- Lady Denham would lose some of their terror if her new
accomplice did indeed possess those virtues of calmness, common
sense and resource with which Charlotte had already endowed
her.
The sight of Clara's letter to Lady Denham lying beside her
on the seat of the coach conjured up visions of the same letter
being opened on their return to Sanditon -- the exclamations,
accusations and scenes of anger which might follow] Would she
be required to take the lead in this drama or would Miss Elizabeth
Brereton agree to handle it all? And what would the Parkers say
when they realised the part their guest had played that morning
in straining their relations with their most important neighbour?
Charlotte s courage was still high and her belief in the necessiey
for such measures still unshaken; but she was beginning to dread
the consequences of her own complicity as the time for closer
involvement drew nearer.
She was, therefore, considerably relieved to discover, from
Saunders' enquiries at the coaching-inn, that the London mail was
not expected for nearly an hour; and she had leisure to stroll
about the outskirts of the town, to walk to recover her spirits
and order her thoughts, before hurrying into this important first
encounter with an entire stranger.
Clara's letter now being discovered as too large for either
reticule or pocket, Charlotte left it in the temporary charge of
Saunders; and with the illogical feeling that she was shelving a
heavy responsibility, walked briskly out of the inn yard and along
several tidy streets which led her almost into the countryside.
A signpost pointing south east to Willingden was a comforting
sight: she remembered her own family and reflected that, what-
ever the unpleasantness -- how many distressing scenes -- she
might have to face in Sanditon in the next few days, her return
home was already determined. On Thursday, she would be here in
Hailsham once again, the family coach to meet her, at least some
of her brothers and sisters to greet her; and within three hours, they
would have conveyed her safe back to her own dear world.
For the first time since leaving home, Charlotte felt a longing
to return. The novelty of Sanditon, the kindness of the Parkers,
her pleasure in their society -- all now seemed to count for nothing;
and as she walked along the road that would soon be taking her
there, Charlotte almost wished she could anticipate the intervening
days and the warm security of her family's welcome -- all the
blessings of stability and those peaceful, unchangmg rural values
which formed the accepted pattern of existence in Willingden.
So intent was she on her own thoughts that the sound of a
carriage behind her scarcely broke through her reverie. Even
when the rhythm changed from a trot to a walk and ceased as the
carriage drew alongside her, Charlotte did not trouble to glance
round. And she was considerably startled to hear a low laugh
behind her and a masculine voice declaiming melodramatically,
"You have walked away from me once too often, my fair
charmer. But this time you will not find me so complaisant.
This time -- "
Charlotte spun round in astonishment to find herself confront-
ing Sir Edward Denham in his gig. A bewildered look of complete
stupefaction, which replaced the sardonic and impassioned
expression Sir Edward had been trying to assume, immediately
made it plain to <1her>1 that her pelisse, her bonnet and her presence
in Hailsham had led him to mistake her identity from behind; and
his immediate exclamation -- "Good God] But where is Miss
Brereton?" though ludicrously inadequate in accounting for the
very great difference in their height, colouring and mode of dress
proved this conjecture beyond all doubt.
Charlotte was so fascinated by Sir Edward's range of facial
contortions that she found it almost impossible to reply for a
few moments to either of his very singular outbursts. lt was clear
to her he must have planned such an assignation in Hailsham
without Clara Brereton's knowledge and that, in his usual absurd
style of gallantry, his intentions towards Clara at this meeting
were as muddled as ever. Deciding her best course was to behave
as conventionally as possible, she mastered a very strong inclina-
tion to laugh and said coolly,
"Good morning, Sir Edward. I had not the least expectation of
seeing you in Hailsham. What business has brought you here?'
"Where is Miss Brereton?" Sir Edward only repeated through
clenched teeth.
"I do not at all know," said Charlotte with perfect truth. "I
have not seen Miss Brereton since this morning when she asked
me to take her place in meeting her cousin at Hailsham today."
"You are lying," cried Sir Edward, almost beside himself with
rage. "I have just been speaking to Saunders and he told me Miss
Brereton had walked out of the inn yard scarcely ten minutes ago
in this direction --
"Then I am afraid you were mistaken," Charlotte replied
pleasantly, "Are you sure you did not use some such phrase as
"your young mistress" or "your passenger" which Saunders
could have misunderstood as relating to me? There is no need
for this confusion, I assure you, Sir Edward. I am very willing
to accompany you back to the inn where Saunders may clear
the matter up within a few seconds."
Another facial contortion as Sir Edward's mind ran swiftly over
his brief conversation with Saunders told Charlotte her guess was
correct and he was now acknowledging his own mistake to himself.
Dropping the reins so suddenly that his horse shied and kicked,
covering his face with both hands, groaning, cursing and venting
his temper, Sir Edward presented a most distasteful spectacle to
Charlotte's critical eye. She did not even pity him. His own
conceit and his own preposterous conduct had led him into this
ridiculous adventure -- where he had betrayed his intentions by
his first remarkably foolish utterance and now in a most inglori-
ous fit of temper-- and she felt no desire at all to make his
recovery any easier for him.
She realised, however, that it would be better to overlook the
implications of the incident and to pretend Sir Edward's violation
of all social canons to this lavish extent was not quite so obvious
to an outsider. He stood revealed to her as a very shallow
character pretending to be a romantic hero, but she did her best
to treat him as a common acquaintance.
"Come, Sir Edward. Let us drive back into Hailsham and find
Saunders. I believe it is almost time I was turning back in any
case to meet the mail coach."
As he made no reply but continued only to groan and lament
in the most incoherent manner, Charlotte climbed sensibly on to
the vacant seat beside him, picked up the reins and began to turn
the gig back towards the town.
"Too late] You are too late," cried Sir Edward with an almost
hysterical laugh. "It is done -- the die is cast. Inevitable ruin
stares me in the face. Nothing is left now but to lose myself in
a vortex of dissipation."
"Whao" said Charlotte, considerably taken aback. "What die
is caso"
"Saunders] He is on the road back to Sanditon. With four
horses. We cannot hope to catch him up with one. I was three
hours in driving here yesterday, rested my horse overnight and
planned -- how, oh] <1how>1 can my schemes be thus tragically
overthrown?"
Though Charlotte had been trying to ignore these schemes of
his and remain on terms of civility with him, her sense of propor-
tion was now strained to its limits. She halted the gig astride the
road.
"On what pretext and whose orders did you send Saunders back
to Sanditon?" she enquired coldly. For once, Sir Edward seemed
capable of a more intelligible reply.
"I told him his services were no longer required; that I had
learned Miss Elizabeth Brereton would not be arriving on the mail
coach, and I would drive his passenger back to Sanditon myself.
But I gave him a letter to deliver to Lady Denham on arrival which
explained everything -- I cannot now halt it. I cannot intercept
it. All, all is now undone. You see before you, Miss Heywood,
a doomed man]"
In the midst of her vexation with Sir Edward, Charlotte could
still summon up some amusement at the thought of the two dis-
cordant letters, addressed to Lady Denham, which Saunders was
now carrying back to Sanditon. Sir Edward's account of the
day's events at such cross purposes to Clara Brereton's] She
bit back the retort that, if doomed he was, then it was his own
idiotic fault, and said calmly,
"Sir Edward, I can no longer pretend that I do not understand
you. Am I to take it you have written a letter to Lady Denham
announcing your intention of eloping with Miss Brereton to-
day?"
"Five pages," nodded Sir Edward. "Throwing myself on her
mercy, begging her to forgive us both, proudly and finally declar-
ing my unbounded passion -- driven by sublimities of such
intense feeling that I was at last ready to dare all and hazard all --
even <1her>1 displeasure -- in the unlimited ardour of this overruling
fire in my breast. To what suffering, to what depths of depravity
has it led me]"
Charlotte was perfectly convinced that Sir Edward was quite
incapable of either truth or suffering. And if he had not brains
enough in his head to realise that Clara Brereton would never have
consented to such an elopement, and that a one-horse gig was a
completely unsuitable vehicle for carrying it through, then he
thoroughly deserved his present ruin. She sighed. He did not
really merit her compassion but she hoped he could be talked into
some semblance of reason by kindly treatment. Why, he was a
child -- not a very nice child -- and his faults were bragging,
childish pinpricks without any real power to inflict hurt on any-
body. He was a man of straw, but she felt she should do her best
with this very poor material available and try to make Sir Edward
behave sensibly.
'I do not think you have yet considered your present situation
quite rationally, Sir Edward," she said with admirable patience.
"I am sure we shall be able to retrieve your letter -- or even
perhaps pass it off as a joke. Now, is it indeed true Miss Elizabeth
Brereton is not arriving on the mail coach?"
"How should I know thao" cried Sir Edward with such a
burst of irritation as dismayed her of making him listen to her
with any lucidity. "I suppose she is arriving. But <1her>1 presence
in Sanditon is quite unacceptable to <1me.>1 I have left her a letter
too -- at the coaching-inn -- that will send her straight back to
London where she belongs. I told her nobody would be meeting
her from Sanditon -- she was not wanted there, neither by her
cousin, nor Lady Denham nor anybody else."
"And why should you have done thao
"Why should I <1noo>1 I planned this day's adventure very
thoroughly, let me tell you. Down to the very last detail --
disposing of one cousin at the same time as I gained the other -- "
"Yes, yes," agreed Charlotte. I can see you planned it very
well indeed. But your plans have gone wrong now. Can you
not realise we must <1now>1 think of some alternative? Sir Edward
-- please listen to me carefully for a moment." It had occurred
to her that the revelation of Clara's long-standing attachment to
Henry Brudenall and her elopement with him that very day might
have a salutary and sobering effect on Sir Edward and bring him
under reasonable control. "I believe I should perhaps tell you
that your chances of success were a great deal less than you
imagined. When I told you some minutes ago I did not know
where Miss Brereton was, it was only true in a literal sense. I
do, in fact, know that she is somewhere on the road between
Brighton and Hull. She did indeed leave Sanditon today, but
in quite a different direction. She will not be returning -- she is
already on her way to India. She has eloped with her cousin,
Henry Brudenall, to whom she has been sincerely attached since
childhood."
She spoke very slowly and very distinctly as to a backward
child; and he seemed to be listening with a solemn concentration
which gave some hope that her words were having the moderating
effect she intended. "I am very sorry to tell you there was never
any hope of your gaining Miss Brereton's affections. She would
never have eloped with you."
"Eloped?" cried Sir Edward, suddenly infuriated. "Who talked
of elopements? I wrote in my letter to Lady Denham that we
were eloping -- but I never considered that for one moment.
Mine was to be an abduction, not an elopement," he shouted, as
though proud of this superior boast. "Clara Brereton spurned
my noble passion, my generous emotion -- she paralysed my
heart with her indifference. This day was to have been her ruin
and not mine]"
Charlotte almost gasped at the effrontery and the violence of
this loud bragging. Sir Edward was sunk indeed. He was cheap
and impudent and so puffed up by vanity that it had injured what
little intelligence he had ever possessed. She still believed him
manageable by adult understanding, still thought she had only
to find and press the right spring and Sir Edward would respond;
but she counted without his present unusual excess of rage.
Beneath his glossy and handsome surface, Sir Edward was a petty
tyrant, to whom rational conduct meant nothing whatsoever
when he found his will crossed.
He seized the reins from her hands, and whipping and backing
his poor horse, set it at a gallop along the Willingden road.
<1"What>1 do you think you are doing now?" cried Charlotte in
alarm as the gig lurched and bumped, forcing her to clutch at the
seat for support. For a moment she believed the horse had
bolted with them; but although she was not over-impressed by Sir
Edward's reckless style of driving, she soon realised he had his
horse under control. On his whipping it even further, she
recognised that he was only trying to frighten her. And this had
the odd effect of calming her instead.
"Thwarted of one fair charmer, why should I not take another? '
shouted Sir Edward with a savage laugh. Glancing up at his
profile on the first occasion their erratic progress would allow her,
Charlotte saw that his features were again becoming set in that
sardonic and impassioned expression he had been doing his best to
assume at the outset of this very peculiar encounter.
Charlotte was by now very angry, much more angry than
alarmed. Sir Edward's last action -- this wild and theatrical
charge into the countryside -- released her from any remaining
obligations of civility towards him. And she spoke quite as
sharply as she felt.
"Sir Edward, rein your horse this instant and set me down. I
have had quite enough of this nonsense."
For answer, he gave another of his hollow, seductive laughs
and tried to look more dangerous than ever.
"Rein my horse indeed] You are now my captive, my hostage,
and there is no chance of escape. Have you not yet realised it is
<1you>1 who is now being abducted?"
"In a <1gig?">1 cried Charlotte scornfully. But sarcasm was too
subtle a weapon to have any effect on her companion. When he
had cooled off and abated some of his fury in a headlong dash
down the road, she could not fail to believe some shreds of sanity
would return to him. She had scarcely needed this present,
rather dramatic illustration to be convinced that Sir Edward was
a mountain of conceit and selfishness. But she wondered why --
without violently caring, or even pretending to care, for her --
he had chosen to abduct her. She imagined he must have talked
himself into some semblance of real passion for Clara Brereton.
But it made little sense that he should set out on this particular
morning to abduct one young lady and then, quite illogically,
seize another instead. From various spiteful and fatuous sen-
tences which he threw over his shoulder from time to time, she
could only conclude that the muddled state of his mind only
equalled his extremely bad temper; and if this were the case, she
decided he was not a companion she could endure for many miles
longer.
As the direction they were travelling could eventually take them
to almost any channel port, her first rapid conjecture was that
Sir Edward had planned to abduct Clara Brereton to France.
But a very few seconds sufficed to make her decide that even Sir
Edward could never have hoped to accomplish such a protracted
and complicated journey with a reluctant companion. He had,
moreover, taken the trouble to drive his one horse from Sanditon
to Hailsham the day before, and it would seem unlikely .that he
was planning to cover more than a similar distance today. It
required very few more seconds for her to hit upon their most
probable destination, as the memory of little snatches of conversa-
tion overheard in the tea room came into her mind. "A friend of
mine has a little hunting lodge he wants to convert into a cottage
orne." "My friend Atwell has gone to Switzerland for the summer
and left me his keys." "Willingden Abbots." "Somewhere due
east of Hailsham, I believe."
How typical of Sir Edward's careful planning, Charlotte
reflected, to be now intent on abducting a young lady to within
a few miles of her own home] But having reached this very
comfortable conclusion, she found the few remaining inconven-
iences of this abduction (for Charlotte had never regarded them as
terrors) vanished completely; and she was left only with a strong
curiosity to observe in what manner Sir Edward would at last be
brought to his senses.
She was forced to admit she had not yet found any successful
method of handling this conceited, stupid braggart herself. His
behaviour was quite outrageous; but expostulation and wrath
would not help her. And although she remained in a high state
of indignation, she was not at all frightened to be careering
across the country on a summer day in an open gig. She had no
intention of either jumping out or of shouting at Sir Edward; and
she would have thought it unpardonable weakness to begin
crying, even as a means of gaining her own way. Common sense
told her that, however much Sir Edward might whip up his one
fairly staid horse in an effort to appear villainous, sooner or later
he would be forced to reduce its present pace to a point where
conversation would again become possible. So she merely sat,
clutching at the seat till the horse dropped into a canter.
Some of his ill humour being dissipated in enjoyment of the
unusual burst of speed he had extracted from his gig, Sir Edward
was in a slightly better frame of mind. Though not yet sufficiently
discriminating to think matters out clearly, he was at least cheerful
enough to essay one of his quotations, declaimed with typical
inaccuracy and equal perversity of interpretation.
"Assuaging your alarm, my fair one, must now become my chief
aim. Those lines of the poet will be my guide to our future brief
life of adventure together --
<1When lovely woman stoops to folly>1
<1And finds too late that men betray>1
<1What charms shall soothe her melancholy>1
<1What arts will wash her tears away?>1
Delicious] Delicious] Dryden has stated my case with such
unrivalled, immortal sublimity that I can accept him as my guide
and mentor."
"Goldsmith," Charlotte contradicted bluntly. Sir Edward, she
felt, no longer merited even the compliment of politeness from
herself. And although she believed judicious flattery might have
been a very good method to adopt -- probably an excellent device
in pulling the marionette strings by which Sir Edward might be
expected to behave -- scorn was a technique which held more
appeal for her at the moment.
"And your quotation in this case is even more inaccurate and
inappropriate than usual, Sir Edward," she pursued, surprising
herself by the waspishness of her own spite. " "What charm <1can>1
soothe' and "what art <1can>1 wash' is the correct version. And to
what tears do you refer? No doubt it has entirely escaped your
attention that I have none; and I am scarcely the one who has
stooped to folly either]"
Sir Edward was not clever enough to employ a sarcastic tongue
in return. He merely shouted veiled threats, lost his temper again
for several more miles and cut viciously at his flagging horse with
the selfish tantrum of a spoilt child. Charlotte now perceived
a very great resemblance between himself and his sister and, under
the new license of freedom she had granted to herself, said so.
This provoked another outburst, which Charlotte met with the
greatest indifference, discovering she much preferred dealing with
Sir Edward in a temper than when he was effusively amiable. He
could be obnoxiously polished in compliment, but his innate
manners were shocking indeed; and she found it quite a relief to
have him revealed in his true character.
As they covered mile after mile, and the pace of the gig slowed
as the afternoon wore on, she said a great many more things, which
she hoped Sir Edward might remember when he finally came to
his senses.
The landscape was becoming more and more familiar to her;
and as she gained in confidence, she began lecturing him on his
folly, pointing out the consequences he could expect from the
course of action he had embarked on so histrionically and with
so little forethought. Indeed, at several points on their journey
Charlotte was almost ashamed of her own lack of charity towards
him; but she consoled herself with the reflection that forbearance
would scarcely restore the moral strength Sir Edward lacked.
He still replied occasionally with some confused and impas-
sioned outbursts; but she could see her policy of withering scorn
was at last having some effect; and that he was already heartily
regretting having selected her for his companion in this adventure.
"You will find yourself very isolated at Denham Park on your
return to Sanditon, Sir Edward," she observed. "Had you
considered thao Or is it yet another of the drawbacks you have
overlooked? I fear you will be quite an otttcast when the story
of today's events becomes known. Your abduction of their guest
is most unlikely to improve your relations with the Parker's."
"What care I for the Parkers?" cried Sir Edward with one of
his sweeping gestures of disdain. "But even if I worried about their
opinion, it is <1you>1 they will condemn. Naturally, they will believe
you came with me willingly. I am Sir Edward Denham and my
word will be listened to in Sanditon before yours."
"Very true," agreed Charlotte. "We are always in a far better
position to uphold our respectability on our own home ground,"
smiling at the familiar landmarks they were now passing on both
sides of the road.
Both Sir Edward and his horse were showing definite signs
of fatigue by this time; and as the gig began climbing a long hill,
the tired horse slowed his walking pace even further. Charlotte
could have descended from it with ease at almost any point over
the last few miles. But she saw no reason to start walking sooner
than necessary. Any part of the present slope would be convenient
for her but she decided she might as well wait till they were farther
up the crest of the hill.
She was also determined to avoid any undignified scuffling and
recrimination; so she watched the figures of two yeomen-labourers
advancing through the slanting rays of the setting sun downhill
towards them. She chose her moment very carefully: the figures
were almost abreast of the gig when she sprang nimbly down into
the road.
"Good evening, Thomas. I hope the children have recovered
from their whooping cough, John?"
The weary horse had stopped involuntarily, adding a final
corroborating touch of normality to this seemingly prosaic home-
coming. Sir Edward stared down from the gig, too stupefied
to interfere. Even to his weak understanding, it was clear that
Miss Heywood, pleasantly greeting two stalwart farm labourers,
was a personage of some note in this district. He heard cheerful
words passing between them; he even heard words addressed to
himself; but they were directed, he knew, to this audience -- an
audience who had known Miss Heywood of Willingden all their
lives, but to whom he was a complete stranger.
"I thank you for your kindness, sir," Charlotte was saying,
turning back to the gig and regarding Sir Edward calmly. "It
was extremely kind of you to come so far out of your way on my
account. But I need not trouble you any further. It is only a
step for me from here. I will be home in a very few minutes now.
I wish you good evening."
Nodding a final smile at her audience and dropping him a very
slight curtsy, Charlotte turned on her heel; and without one back-
ward glance, either of triumph or trepidation, she walked off
across the fields.
CHAPTER30
MR. AND MRS. HEYWOOD'S RECEPTION of their daughter on
her unexpected arrival home was greatly to their credit as sensible
parents. Their surprise, when she walked in across the fields
to join the family party at tea, without an escort, a trunk or
advance notice of her intentions, can be readily imagined; but
after their first exclamations, they were willing to listen to her
explanations, which were delivered in so collected a manner as to
cause more astonishment than alarm.
In walking from the road, Charlotte had plenty of time to
rehearse what she had to tell them; and though in everything
which related to herself, she witheld nothing and spoke only the
simple truth, she felt she could be forgiven for omitting both
Clara Brereton and Henry Brudenall from her tale. If her
parents had ever seen Clara, they might perhaps have recognised
her as the beautiful and bewitching heroine of a romance, and
expected her to provide them with all the entertainment of a
fairy tale come to life; but even to Charlotte, who did know her,
it still appeared slightly incredible that two young men should have
planned to elope with her on the same day.
She had very quickly reached the conclusion that Clara and
Henry would only add to the complications of her own story; so
she limited the account to her own uneventful trip to Hailsham,
where she had driven in Lady Denham's carriage to meet Lady
Denham's niece; and where she had been -- so strangely and
unexpectedly -- abducted by Lady Denham's nephew by marriage.
Reduced to its essential elements and told with no inflated re
sentation of her own first reactions of panic and anger it sounded
nevertheless, a very shocking business to her sympathetic family
audience.
However, their Charlotte was certainly home and unharmed
now, once again seated at her normal place at table, pouring out
tea for her younger brothers and sisters; and her plain, unvar-
nished account of the villainous conduct, immoral behaviour and
unprincipled selfishness she had met with seemed too far-fetched
to concern her parents to any marked extent. Indeed, had it not
been their own honest, straightforward Charlotte telling the
story, Mr. and Mrs. Heywood could scarcely have been blamed
for disbelieving it. Her daughter's adventure was of a type Mrs.
Heywood had sometimes encountered in novels set in far distant
countries but would never have associated with the safe counties
of England. As for Mr. Heywood, it had never previously
occurred to him that such folly could have been contemplated --
much less carried out; and it was clear from his bemused questions
that Sir Edward's conduct struck him as improbable rather than
dangerous.
"You say this young man actually tried to abduct you in broad
daylight in an open gig?"
" Yes, sir. "
"And drove you at walking pace within a mile of your own
home?"
"I hardly think he could have been aware of that fact when he
chose his route, sir," said Charlotte. "He struck me from the
first as not possessing a particularly strong head, so I doubt if it
was ever clear to him exactly where I lived. And perhaps Sir
Edward had little choice in the matter of his destination. He had
been offered the use of a friend's hunting lodge, which probably
played a decisive part in his plans. I gather his own financial
resources are fairly limited."
Charlotte was rather amused by her attempts to apologise for
Sir Edward's woolliness.
"Ah] that would explain the gig and the one horse too, agreed
her father, shaking his head in amazement at such preposterous
arrangements. "But it sounds quite muddle-headed to me.
Very strange indeed] No money to afford such adventures
either] Bless my soul] Quite extraordinary] Well, Charlotte,
you have certainly shown your usual good sense and I am only
sorry your holiday has ended thus abruptly. But it is only by
two days. For my part I am glad to see you returned home, and
you must write to Mr. and Mrs. Parker directly. It is quite likely
they may be worried over your disappearance."
"To be sure, as they are not so well acquainted with your
character as ourselves, such a very shocking story will be bound
to alarm them," agreed Mrs. Heywood comfortably.
"I will write first thing in the morning," promised Charlotte; and
discovering her parents had nothing further to add on the subject,
she escaped to her own room to hide the attack of nerves she felt
only too imminent. Her courage had remained steady throughout
the events of the day and the long tense drive with Sir Edward;
but despite her composure, the sensation of anti-climax in this
happy conclusion to her improbable adventure gave some evidence
that she was suffering symptoms of shock. Her exertions that
day had been considerable, and were now beginning to depress
her -- the more so from not having overpowered her at the time.
She was home and she was safe; but her spirits had never been
so low nor her thoughts so hopeless.
After a disturbed night, Charlotte arose early to write her letter
to the Parkers. She did not doubt her kind friends would be
distressed to learn what had happened to her while under their
care. And as she wanted to make it very clear that no shadow
of blame attached itself to them, to relieve them of the anxiety
they must be feeling about her, and to attempt some explanation
of Sir Edward's conduct -- which was still not very clear to herself
-- her task was indeed a difficult one.
She wrote and rewrote painstakingly, her mind cool and active;
and it was only when she came to that paragraph in her letter, in
which she thanked them for her holiday, expressed her sincere
pleasure in the visit, and asked for her trunk to be returned, that
her pen began to slacken and she allowed her thoughts to wander.
"I will never forget Sanditon, she wrote, after long considera-
tion, "and the summer I spent there will always remain one of my
happiest memories.
And discovering there were tears in her eyes, she quickly signed
her name, sealed the letter hurriedly without rereading it, and
leaving it on her father's desk, escaped into the shrubbery.
It was over. It was indeed only a memory. And although she
walked up and down the tidy walks trying to convince herself
that she could never have hoped for anything more, she sighed
many times and wished the ending had been less abrupt, and that
there had been a few more days to prepare herself for it.
From such reflections she was aroused by her youngest sister,
Margaret, calling from the lawn in high excitement.
"Charlotte, where are you? Charlotte] Charlotte] are you
there? Mr. Parker has come. Mr. Parker has come."
Not a little distressed to hear her good friends had been so
concerned about her that Mr. Parker should have found it
necessary to drive all the way to Willingden to see her parents,
Charlotte ran to join Margaret on the lawn and saw Mr. Parker's
carriage standing in the driveway.
"Is he in the drawing room? she called, overtaking her sister
on her way to the open french windows.
"No, no. He <1was>1 in the breakfast room. John showed him
in while mama was giving me my history lesson. We were so
surprised] He seemed most upset about something; and when
mama told him you were here, he just said "Thank God]" and sat
down in a chair for so long, without saying anything at all, that
mama said she would go and find papa, leaving me all alone with
him. And then -- "
"Where is he now?"
"I'm <1telling>1 you," said Margaret very importantly. "Then he
suddenly woke up out of his daze and asked where you were; and
so I took him to look in the study but you weren't there, so then
he asked for papa -- "
"Dear Margaret -- just tell me where he has gone now."
"The second meadow behind the hayfield," said Margaret
crossly. "The one the hedge-cutters are working on. I directed
him round by the road but I am not so sure now papa <1is>1 there this
morning. If you take the path near the copse -- "
But Charlotte had already run on ahead across the garden, and
gathering speed down the grassy slope on the far side of it, was
soon out of sight behind the small wood. Skirting this wood by a
small path, she arrived at the hedge which bounded the field to the
road and was rewarded by the sight of a gentleman's hat beyond
it. In her anxiety to reach Mr. Parker and beg him not to
complicate her story by any mention of Miss Brereton and Mr,
Brudenall, not to confuse her parents by acknowledging this
successful elopement from Sanditon, she panted to a stop,
rather out of breath, and called his name. The hat paused, turned
and Mr. Parker seemed to be seeking the gap for a stile in the
hedge. She had taken only a few more steps along the path
towards it, when he must have caught sight of the opening himself,
and a few strides brought him abreast of it. But to Charlotte's
very great astonishment, the head which came through the hedge
belonged not to Mr. Parker but to Sidney.
"Oh] But my sister said Mr. Parker had come," she said,
staring at him foolishly. "I wanted to see Mr. Parker first --
before he spoke to my father. I hope they were not too upset --
how strange they must have -- no blame to them. But it <1was>1 Mr.
Parker's carriage in the drive. Indeed, I thought it must have
been Mr. Parker. Not you. This is -- I mean --
Dimly aware that she was speaking entirely at random, that her
words had very little connection, and were making so little sense
to herself that they probably conveyed none at all to him, Charlotte
withdrew her fascinated gaze from Sidney Parker's face and stared
down at a point near her feet. Her thoughts became more
coherent when she was no longer looking at him. Was it <1this>1
Mr. Parker who had said "Thank God" and sat down in a daze
without saying anything further at all? A very queer sort of
breathlessness, which had nothing to do with having run so fast
and so far, seemed to have constricted her throat; and the colour
which had been driven from her face returned with an additional
glow; but so long as she did not look at him, her mind at least
remained perfectly clear.
"There are other Mr. Parkers besides my brother," said Sidney
and she heard him brushing against the bushes as he walked
towards her. "And at ten years old, you know, it may not seem
very important to make distinctions between them. I also agree
it is my brother's carriage in the driveway. His horses were quite
fresh, you see; and my last pair of post horses were blown on the
final stage down from London. I could not hope to exchange
them for another good pair till I drove back to Hailsham."
He paused after each of these trivial sentences to discover if she
was yet ready to reply; and deciding she was not, went on talking
in the same politely effortless manner.
"And yes, Tom and my sister-in-law have certainly been con-
cerned about you; though I did my best to convince them, during
the short time I was at Trafalgar House, that the sensible Miss
Heywood would very soon outwit a paltry suitor like Sir Edward."
"How did they know Sir Edward had anything to do with my
disappearance?" Charlotte demanded, her embarrassment
momentarily overcome by surprise. She managed a fleeting
glance up at him, saw that he was laughing at her, and quickly
looked down again. That familiar teasing smile was more than
she had powers to contend with at present.
"Oh, it was <1most>1 confusing at first] By the time I arrived, Lady
Denham had read her two letters from Hailsham, both of which
announced their writers' intentions of eloping with quite different
people. She had also rushed here and there, spreading their
contents around Sanditon and hearing all sorts of conflicting
stories in return. Mary told her you had gone to Hailsham at
Miss Brereton's special invitation; Miss Beaufort told her you had
driven off with Henry in a barouche loaded heavily with luggage;
Hodges told her Sir Edward had left for Hailsham the previous
day; and Saunders told her it was Miss Heywood and not Miss
Brereton Sir Edward had met there. All very contradictory, as
you see. It took the combined efforts of Miss Elizabeth Brereton
and myself to produce any sort of order out of such chaos."
"Miss Elizabeth Brereton?" exclaimed Charlotte. But how
did she come to be in Sanditon?"
"Well, naturally, I drove her there. I found her at the inn in
Hailsham some hours after the mail coach had left her there. She
was a little distressed, wondering what she should do -- whether
to wait for the return mail to London or to try and hire some
conveyance for Sanditon. All this because of a letter Sir Edward
had written her. What a fellow he is for words -- always
writing letters or making speeches] And all of them so long-
winded and incomprehensible] This one was full of malice and
dire warnings -- but otherwise so vague one could scarcely make
head or tail of it. Never having met Sir Edward, Miss Elizabeth
was in some confusion, hesitating whether to take his letter
seriously and abandon her journey, or to ignore both that and the
discourtesy of not being met and continue her way to Sanditon.
I was soon able to convince her what nonsense it all was and
explain that Sir Edward's speeches, letters, quotations, compli-
ments or threats would never be taken seriously by any normal
person. So we continued the journey together depositing Miss
Elizabeth at Sanditon House, where she has already become the
prop and pivot of Lady Denham's household."
"Oh] I am so glad," Charlotte said thankfully. Even in her
present agitation, she could experience some relief at this news.
In addition to her other anxieties, she had not ceased to worry
about her failure to carry out Clara's plans for her cousin. "But
I still do not quite understand how -- "
How we could guess what really happened at Hailsham? Well
once Miss Elizabeth and I had added our testimony to support
Clara's letter -- and Saunders had backed it up by describing the
meeting of coach and barouche on the Hailsham road -- none of
us had any difficulty in concluding Sir Edward had taken leave of
his senses and attempted to console himself elsewhere. l assure
you your fate is being mourned throughout Sanditon at this
moment. I did my best to convince them Miss Heywood was no
feeble character; and Mary agreed she was certainly more equal
to dealing with such a situation than most young women would
have been. But, you know, I was the only one who really
believed you could rescue yourself from the clutches of our village
villain."
This was all spoken very lightly. But while she heard the
amusement in Sidney's voice, Charlotte was remembering Mar-
garet's description of his arrival in Willingden: "Mr. Parker seemed
most upset about something; and when mama told him you were
here -- " She had derived a delightful conviction from these
words; but she felt a reluctance to repeat them to him, to look
up at him or do anything at all which might make his real feelings
apparent to her. And though impatient to know everything at
once, she tried to be calm and leave things to take their natural
course. Had she been able to encounter his eye, she might have
read his sentiments for herself; but she was scarcely in a humour to
wait while Sidney went on amusing himself at her expense, and
went rushing into sentences she had not properly thought out.
"Oh, it was all such thick-headed nonsense] I could make
nothing of Sir Edward] Miss Brereton, of course, is so beautiful
and romantic that I can understand why he should want to elope
with her -- she is exactly the sort of heroine one can imagine
something of the kind happening to -- but Sir Edward must
indeed have been out of his mind in thinking that I -- I mean --
that is--"
"You feel the same thing could never happen to a sensible young
woman like you?"
"Certainly not," Charlotte said, the more decisively because she
envied Clara the power of inspiring such illogical actions. It is
most unlikely. No normal person would ever dream of such folly.
Only someone as scatterbrained as Sir Edward could -- "
"The devil take Sir Edward]" cried Sidney between exasperation
and amusement. "It seems always my fate to be having to adjust
my conduct to avoid any comparison with his. After his com-
pliments, you never believed any of mine] And now will you
ever believe that long before such an idea entered Sir Edward's
muddled head I had decided to behave exactly as he did yester-
day?"
"To elope with Miss Brereton? But you knew that -- "
"Let us put aside Miss Brereton for the moment. My plans
had nothing to do with her either. Oh, I have met many young
ladies in London far more beautiful and romantic than Miss
Brereton, but I have never imagined eloping with any of them.
Shall I tell you the only sort of young woman who could inspire
such thoughts in me?"
Charlotte discovered she had lost the power of speech; but her
silence seemed sufficient encouragement to Sidney.
"I have always wanted to find someone with so much common
sense that an elopement would not appeal to her at all. Such a
thing would never enter her head, except perhaps when she was
reading a romantic novel. At the very suggestion of it, all the
practical objections would immediately occur -- the lack of
consideration to her parents, the folly of the entire proceedings,
the inconvenience of so unnecessary a journey. You see, I am
a very prosaic, unromantic, sensible sort of fellow myself; and
I have always had my heart set on finding the most sensible,
prudent, level-headed wife in the world. But, on the other hand,
it is very important to me that she possess one very particular
flaw: she must have no sense whatsoever where I myself am
concerned. She would only have to take one look at me and --
no matter what her steadiness of mind -- she would lose it in the
space of seconds. She would be willing to elope with <1me>1 --
without another thought -- the moment I asked her. This is the
only way I can ever hope to be certain I have found exactly what
I am looking for. If someone insists their feet are always firmly
on the ground, how else can you discover if their head is some-
times in the clouds? Just lately, I have sometimes thotight I may
have found what I have always wanted. But just lately I have
also noticed she has developed a most irritating habit of looking
at the ground whenever we are together. Do you think she could
try to overcome io Well, Charlotte, <1are>1 you going to look at me
now ? "
It was the first time he had used her name. Like the touch of
his hand in the tea rooms, it made her heart begin to pound with
a happiness so heady, so immediate and so violent that she could
not have spoken a word. She raised her eyes to his face, however,
and what she read in his was almost too wonderful for her to
believe.
"-Well, my Charlotte? he said again.
"You know very well I could never refuse anything you asked,"
she replied, hardly knowing what she said.
"All the same, I want you to say it," Sidney insisted, smiling
down at her and holding out his hand. "Will you elope with me,
instantly, without one more second's thougho"
"Yes," said Charlotte, putting her hand in his and moving
towards him without realising what she did.
"Even though it may turn into an abdtiction and I take you to
a remote farm-house in a gig straight past your own home?"
"Yes," repeated Charlotte. You know perfectly well that I
will. And you have known it for weeks."
"I only hoped," said Sidney modestly. "But now I am quite
certain you have not a particle of common sense where I alone
am concerned, let us go and find your father."
"Then we are not going to elope?"
"Certainly not, he said with his old commanding air of
authority. "I have far too much respect for convention and
decomm to consider such a ridiculous course of action.
But he was heedless enough of conventions to make Charlotte
very happy strolling through woods, down lanes and across
fields without any attempt to discover the direction Mr. Heywood
had taken with his hedge-cutters.
This was an hour of such high-wrought felicity for Charlotte
as made her awed to discover so perfect, exquisite and unalloyed
happiness could really exist for anybody. All the little variations
of their meetings and conversations were gone through, and of
the progress of their attachment, there could scarcely be an end,
As Charlotte could date the exact moment of her falling in
love -- or, to be more precise, the exact moment of realising she
had done so -- she was very interested to learn if Sidney could do
the same. At first he disclaimed there had been any such moment
of revelation for him, protesting it had been far too gradual a
process to recognise any beginning at all. But as he had no
dislike of the subject and a strong curiosity to know which
particular moment held such importance for Charlotte, he had
soon persuaded her to describe her sensations in the curio shop
at Brinshore.
"Ah, but you were miserably behind hand," he cried. "I may
not be able to date a beginning but I had certainly begun long
before that. The very first evening of meeting, when you rebuked
me so very correctly for my levity, I was struck by the firmness of
your opinions and caught by their sincerity. And I distinctly
remember the first time I had an overwhelming desire to take you
in my arms -- we were sitting on a green bench on the Terrace
with Miss Beaufort in between us. And though you always
refused to believe it, I <1did>1 arrange the seating on the drive to
Brinshore to have four hours of your company. There were, of
course, several other motives to combine as well; but the balance
was certainly in your favour.
These details were of absorbing interest to Charlotte; and the
dread of being awakened from the happiest of dreams made her
stifle any objections and any inconsistencies which occurred to
her, and allow Sidney to have all his own way, quite unchallenged.
"And I can date another precise moment too," he added
triumphantly. "When you told me you disapproved of elope-
ments, I made up my mind I would make you consent to elope
with <1me>1 within a month."
But Sidney's final assurance that his main purpose in attending
the Assembly <1was>1 to dance with her finally strained Charlotte's
credulity to such an extent that she blushed, disclaimed and
openly doubted. She absolutely refused to believe him, mur-
muring something incoherent about delivering Clara Brereton's
new trunk.
"As if I could not have arranged some other way of sending
that trunk down to her]" cried Sidney scornfully. "And surely
my manner to you that day must have made my feelings plain
though? I told you -- I distinctly remember it -- that I had
driven all the way from London only to dance with you, that I
had missed you all the week. It was <1you>1 who made me pause
in my madness and decide I was proceeding too quickly for you
to keep pace with me."
"I thought you were only paying me compliments to tease
your sister Diana," Charlotte confessed.
"But Diana was not there when I paid you compliments."
"She was there when you held my hand in the tea rooms."
"Oh yes --I scarcely noticed her at first. But she was quite
determined to get in the way. The complications she introduced
for the rest of the day] I could see her prying and gossiping was
making you uncomfortable; and though my original plan had
been to seek out some opportunity that day to put my proposals
and offer you my hand and my heart, between them my maddening
relations certainly succeeded in turning it all upside down. Diana
upsetting Mary by telling her I was paying you too much atten-
tion] Tom demanding an explanation of my conduct -- and when
I satisfied him with one, what must he do but immediately go
repeating the nonsense to you] Oh, I could see you were never
going to take me seriously once Tom had got in first with that
rigmarole about Henry's cousin's wedding day] I knew that would
make you doubt I had meant anything I said to you] I realised
then that I had bungled the whole business; and that I would
have to restrain my impatience and try again another time."
How I wish I could have known what was in your mind]"
sighed Charlotte. "It seemed to me you were only ashamed of
your behaviour in the tea rooms and trying to part with me on
friendly terms."
"To paro Surely you could not have misconstrued my meaning
to that exteno At least I told you at the Assembly that I wanted
to take you fully into my confidence. I begged you never to
believe anything my family said about me; and I apologised for
causing you such embarrassment. What more could I do then?
I hoped I was making the situation plain to you and preparing
my way for taking a second chance."
"I thought you were merely being kind," said Charlotte,
"Treating me as a friend and making it clear you never wished to
be anything more."
Sidney could only repeat that he had long wished for a great
deal more; and he now made this so clear that Charlotte had no
more excuse for doubts. But she was still encouraging him to
repeat such very satisfactory explanations when Mr. Heywood
found them.
On being applied to by Sidney for permission to marry his
daughter, Mr. Heywood gave his most willing consent. The
good sense and good manners of his future son-in-law were
immediately apparent to him: he could see at a glance he was not
a young man who would go about abducting females in gigs.
Sidney's sincere regard for his daughter and his steady principles
were self-evident recommendations; and Mr. Heywood was
confident this judgement would be confirmed by further acquaint-
ance with him.
But for the moment, Sidney could not stay in Willingden as
long as he would have liked. The Parkers were anxiously await-
ing news of Charlotte; and he felt he should drive to and from
Sanditon yet again before accepting the Heywoods' pressing invi-
tation to remain as their guest.
When he returned, he brought back all the warmest wishes of his
family; for though he had stayed only the one night in Sanditon,
he had been energetic enough in his calls to collect congratulations
for himself and messages for Charlotte from both relations and
friends.
The joy with which Adela received the information that she and
Charlotte were to be sisters perhaps surpassed all the rest. She
wrote five pages expressing her delight and decorating the mar-
gins with sketches of shells and seaweed.
This made some amends for the empty professions and insipid
sentences of the Miss Beauforts, who could not quite disguise
their astonishment that the staid and sensible Charlotte had
walked off with the most eligible bachelor of the season under
their elegant and disdainful noses.
Even Lady Denham sent a kindly greeting and a downright
condemnation of her nephew's folly. Sir Edward had sunk
himself indeed with Lady Denham -- to the point where she would
no longer allow even his sister to be admitted to Sanditon House;
and the news of Sidney Parker's engagement to Miss Heywood
affected her only as it gave gleeful satisfaction for the setback it
would be to Miss Esther and the chagrin it might cause her brother,
when she wrote to him at his friend Atwell's hunting lodge. Sir
Edward, Lady Denham trusted, was now experiencing the first
labour pains of common sense and would never again allow his
conceit to undermine his morality.
It was not possible that the outcome of this one disastrous
adventure could turn him, overnight, into a well-judging, rational
unselfish creature for the rest of his life, but some improvement
was inevitable. Removed for some time from the influence of
each other, both he and his sister improved in temper; and though
their real characters underwent no revolution, they at least
learned to hide them more successfully from others.
Miss Parker and Miss Diana decided their constitutions had
weathered a summer in Sanditon in rather more robust style than
they had ever imagined; and they soon began making plans to
remove themselves there for good: to be close enough to the rest of
the family to interfere in all their concerns, and to provide them-
selves with a receptive audience for all their nervous spasms. They
tried to persuade Sidney to settle there with Charlotte, but he
was easily able to evade that suggestion, and would never promise
more than the occasional visit they were both happy to make
every summer. For although Charlotte knew Sidney could only
have lived in London, she had a great attachment to Sanditon,
which held so many fond memories and good friends.
Sanditon itself, to the greater comfort of most of its inhabitants
and all of its summer visitors, never prospered into the smart
seaside resort Lady Denham and Mr. Parker had wished to make
it. An Esplanade, a Waterloo Crescent and even a Wellington
Square were added in time, a few more visitors came each year,
but it retained its peaceful, secluded character long after the
introduction of Sidney's gaslight, which his brother resisted as a
vulgar outrage for as long as he possibly could.