thought bitterly. Not that she wouldn’t have tried, had there been any point to it. But it would be pointless now. The sooner she was married, the better.
Tom also took care of her other needs, too, emptying the slops jar and bringing her, when she requested them, several books from which to choose. Since they included Pilgrim’s Progress and a copy of the Canterbury Tales , she was well enough pleased, although they weren’t by any means among her favorites. She would have much preferred a tale by Fanny Burney or Mrs. Radcliffe or that author who wrote so wittily about such ordinary people. Sarah and Miss Penistone had greatly enjoyed both Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice before Penny had had to leave, and Sarah herself had obtained and chuckled her way through Mansfield Park .
Rumor, emanating from the Prince Regent himself, had it that the author was a young gentlewoman, Miss Jane Austen. Supposedly, Prinny had had that titbit from his librarian, the Reverend J. S. Clarke, who had it from his physician, Mr. Haden, who had it from the young woman’s very own brother, Henry Austen. Mr. Austen had told Mr. Haden that his sister intended to dedicate her latest work, a novel called Emma , to his Royal Highness. Rumor also had it that Miss Austen was not best pleased to know that her closely guarded secret had leaked out, but the Prince, having enjoyed her earlier works quite as much as Sarah had, had kindly sent his permission for the dedication, though Miss Austen had never actually solicited the favor. Sarah, as well as most of her friends, had subscribed for a copy of Emma , and it was no doubt sitting now in the chest under her shawls, exactly where she had left it.
It was rather annoying to think that she had scarcely had a chance to read more than the first chapter or so, since she imagined that she had quite a lot in common with the independent and fascinatingly self-willed heroine, Miss Emma Woodhouse. Of course, Sarah had not been saddled with a hypochondriac for a father, but she rather thought that she and her dearest Penny were quite a lot like Miss Woodhouse and her Miss Taylor. Certainly, Emma’s father would have preferred Penny to Miss Taylor, for Penny showed no inclination toward the state of matrimony, a state vocally and most amusingly deplored by the irascible Mr. Woodhouse. On the other hand, Miss Taylor seemed likely to remain near her erstwhile charge, while Penny had dashed off two weeks to the day after her dismissal to a sister’s house in faraway Cornwall. But it was no use to think of that, Sarah told herself firmly. And, however entertaining it would be to be able to finish what had begun as a completely delightful tale, she must make do with what she had. Deciding to renew her acquaintance with Christian, she tried staunchly to convince herself that his adventures were amusing and not simply dry and moralistic. When Tom brought her a light supper, she asked if Erebus might not come up to keep her company.
Shrugging, the old man allowed as how there could be little harm in it, and a half hour or so later, he reappeared to take her tray away, followed by the huge black dog. Erebus greeted her enthusiastically, and having been sternly forbidden to indulge in the habits of a lap dog, collapsed with a thud at her feet where he snoozed quite comfortably until Tom came to put him out for the night. He spent much of the following day with her as well, and Sarah enjoyed his companionship. She soon began to talk to him quite as though he were another person. His intelligent eyes would brighten at such attention, and he would cock his mammoth head with a flattering air of interest in all she chose to say to him. For Erebus, at least, the time did not pass slowly.
IV
D ARCY AND BECK RETURNED Monday afternoon, and hearing the noise of their arrival, Sarah looked out to see that this time they had come in Darcy’s own phaeton. He jumped down at the front, handing the reins to Beck, who
Tom also took care of her other needs, too, emptying the slops jar and bringing her, when she requested them, several books from which to choose. Since they included Pilgrim’s Progress and a copy of the Canterbury Tales , she was well enough pleased, although they weren’t by any means among her favorites. She would have much preferred a tale by Fanny Burney or Mrs. Radcliffe or that author who wrote so wittily about such ordinary people. Sarah and Miss Penistone had greatly enjoyed both Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice before Penny had had to leave, and Sarah herself had obtained and chuckled her way through Mansfield Park .
Rumor, emanating from the Prince Regent himself, had it that the author was a young gentlewoman, Miss Jane Austen. Supposedly, Prinny had had that titbit from his librarian, the Reverend J. S. Clarke, who had it from his physician, Mr. Haden, who had it from the young woman’s very own brother, Henry Austen. Mr. Austen had told Mr. Haden that his sister intended to dedicate her latest work, a novel called Emma , to his Royal Highness. Rumor also had it that Miss Austen was not best pleased to know that her closely guarded secret had leaked out, but the Prince, having enjoyed her earlier works quite as much as Sarah had, had kindly sent his permission for the dedication, though Miss Austen had never actually solicited the favor. Sarah, as well as most of her friends, had subscribed for a copy of Emma , and it was no doubt sitting now in the chest under her shawls, exactly where she had left it.
It was rather annoying to think that she had scarcely had a chance to read more than the first chapter or so, since she imagined that she had quite a lot in common with the independent and fascinatingly self-willed heroine, Miss Emma Woodhouse. Of course, Sarah had not been saddled with a hypochondriac for a father, but she rather thought that she and her dearest Penny were quite a lot like Miss Woodhouse and her Miss Taylor. Certainly, Emma’s father would have preferred Penny to Miss Taylor, for Penny showed no inclination toward the state of matrimony, a state vocally and most amusingly deplored by the irascible Mr. Woodhouse. On the other hand, Miss Taylor seemed likely to remain near her erstwhile charge, while Penny had dashed off two weeks to the day after her dismissal to a sister’s house in faraway Cornwall. But it was no use to think of that, Sarah told herself firmly. And, however entertaining it would be to be able to finish what had begun as a completely delightful tale, she must make do with what she had. Deciding to renew her acquaintance with Christian, she tried staunchly to convince herself that his adventures were amusing and not simply dry and moralistic. When Tom brought her a light supper, she asked if Erebus might not come up to keep her company.
Shrugging, the old man allowed as how there could be little harm in it, and a half hour or so later, he reappeared to take her tray away, followed by the huge black dog. Erebus greeted her enthusiastically, and having been sternly forbidden to indulge in the habits of a lap dog, collapsed with a thud at her feet where he snoozed quite comfortably until Tom came to put him out for the night. He spent much of the following day with her as well, and Sarah enjoyed his companionship. She soon began to talk to him quite as though he were another person. His intelligent eyes would brighten at such attention, and he would cock his mammoth head with a flattering air of interest in all she chose to say to him. For Erebus, at least, the time did not pass slowly.
IV
D ARCY AND BECK RETURNED Monday afternoon, and hearing the noise of their arrival, Sarah looked out to see that this time they had come in Darcy’s own phaeton. He jumped down at the front, handing the reins to Beck, who
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