“Well, we must go; we cannot send Anne alone; some of us must go and see her,” said Fitzwilliam, and the end of the week was quickly fixed upon for the expedition.
It only remained to decide who should go with Anne, to settle details of carriages, etc, and to write to the hotel to bespeak rooms for them all, for a fifteen-mile drive, each way, would consume far too much of the day. It must be an overnight stay at Burley; nay, two nights, for Saturday would be an assembly night, which would allow them the pleasure of attending the dance, and then they would stay over Sunday, and return on Monday.
Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam said they would go, but Darcy felt he must stay at Pemberley with his wife. Mrs Annesley said she would stay, too, knowing that Lady Catherine would not have the slightest wish to meet her; but to everyone's surprise, Mr Bennet announced that he would accompany them. Of course, he said to his daughter, he was very much alarmed, but he could not resist the opportunity to write to Mr Collins and tell him that he had met Lady Catherine, and give him his impressions of her. Another consideration, he admitted to Anne, was that Darcy had told him that Burley possessed a bookstore, which was held to be remarkably well stocked.
They started early, and well before noon, were actually promenading round the Pump Room with Lady Catherine. She was, indeed, dressed in the height of the fashion, and in as good a mood as Anne had ever known, delighted with the attention, and strongly approving of Georgiana's looks, and quiet, ladylike demeanor. But her highest praise was reserved for her daughter. “I never saw you in better looks,” she said, “and your health seems much improved, too.”
“It is, indeed, madam.”
“Well, now we must drink the water, for it does a great deal of good.”
Anne had tasted the water already, and disliked it. She had hoped to do a little shopping, for, like Mr Bennet, she had her eyes on the famous bookstore. But Lady Catherine was already heading over to the pump. However, the plan of drinking the water was quickly overthrown, for at this moment the Duchess and her brother came into sight. If Lady Catherine had been genial before, she was effusive now, and so was the Duchess in her turn. “We seem to be witnessing a great meeting of minds,” Mr Bennet observed quietly to Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“I think it is rather a great meeting of interests,” the Colonel replied.
It had to be made clear, with a great deal of repetitious detail, that there was no need of introductions, for they had all met each other; and then the Duchess proposed a country walk. None of the other ladies had shoes for such an undertaking, but Her Grace's word was enough for Lady Catherine. She immediately agreed, and, no opportunity being given to anybody else to give an opinion, or ask to do anything different, they all presently found themselves walking up the main street, in the direction of the open country.
As they got into the older part of the town, the streets became narrow, and instead of stone pavements, they found themselves walking on old-fashioned cobblestones. The others were a little ahead, with Lady Catherine and the Duchess arm in arm. Turning around, the Duchess said, “Do take my brother's arm, Miss de Bourgh, the pavement is very uneven. Francis, give her your arm.” Lord Francis seemed to have very little will-power of his own, but to leave every decision to his sister. He obediently extended an arm, and Anne took it, with Minette's leash on her left hand. What on earth shall we talk about? Anne wondered. But Lord Francis was equal to the challenge.
“Dog likes a walk,” he said.
“Yes, she does.”
“Nice little thing. Like bigger dogs, myself.”
“Gentlemen mostly do, I believe, sir.”
“Ha. Like a dog that can do something useful.”
“I think you mean hunting, sir, do you not?”
“Ha. This little thing wouldn't be much use after a fox, heh?”
“I think the fox would chase her, sir.”
“Haw, haw! Very good, Miss de Bourgh! The fox would chase her! Very good!” and Lord Francis threw back his head, and gave a loud, braying laugh. Anne, relieved at finding conversation so easy, looked up at him and laughed, too.
At that very moment, Edmund Caldwell came out of a side street, turned, and almost walked into them.
It was over in a flash. Anne had barely time for a startled glance, barely time to take her hand from Lord Francis' arm, and try to hold it out, but already he had sketched a bow, was past them, and gone down the street.
“Friend of yours?” Lord Francis said.
“A… an acquaintance sir.”
“Seems to be in the devil of a hurry.”
“Yes… yes… I think he did not see me.”
“I tell you what, Miss de Bourgh, if I saw you in the street, I wouldn't run by you in such a hurry, by Jove, no, I would not.”
Anne could have screamed with vexation!
That they should have met by such a chance, that they should have met at all—and then, not to be able to speak to him, to greet him, even! And that she should have been arm in arm with another gentleman—and this particular gentleman, as well— laughing with him, as though there were an understanding between them! Nothing could have been more unfortunate! Lord Francis went on talking—about what, she really had no idea, for she was saying “Yes,” and “No, indeed,” almost at random. They walked quite far into the countryside, far enough to return with weary ankles and spoiled shoes, but the magnificent scenery was wasted on Anne; she saw nothing, and it took her the rest of the day to recover her composure, and to reflect that, in the course of the next day, she might well meet Edmund, and would surely be able to rectify the misunderstanding.
If she had thought that Edmund might be there, the prospect of the assembly that evening would have held a good deal of suspense for her, but she knew that he would not be. Her best chance must be at church, on the following day—but then, what was she to say to him? “I do not really like Lord Francis, it was all a mistake"? Still, she would be at least able to greet him, to enquire after him, and of course his parents would probably be there, too; she could certainly talk to them… she must take care to come out of the church well behind her mother. She must dally a little, look at a tombstone or some such thing, so that with a little good luck, she might be able to greet him, to talk to him, to show him that she was still his friend!
This thought enabled Anne to enjoy the assembly. It was a far different affair from the Lambton assembly, where everybody knew everybody else, and many of those attending came from a quite modest sphere in life. Here, at a spa town, the company consisted, for the most part, of those wanting to make an impression on people they had, for the most part, never met before. Here, clothes were everything, for the eye is the easiest to impress, and many of those present had certainly spent more than they ought in the shops around the Promenade.
Happy was Lady Catherine, as she proceeded into the room, resplendent—nay, refulgent—in yellow satin, lace, and diamonds, and followed by two handsome young ladies, and two gentlemen. Mr Bennet had withstood, for twenty years, the arguments, the sighs, the pleadings of his wife, and never attended an assembly, but he was no match for Lady Catherine; she had forced him to attend. The Master of Ceremonies almost fell over himself in his deference, and his eagerness to greet them all. Even the Duchess and her brother did not command more attention. Lady Catherine did not dance, but she sat at the top of the room with the dancers circling below her, like the Presence itself. Anne danced a great deal, and Lord Francis danced with her twice, but she scarcely noticed her partners; she could only think of what the morrow might bring.