Now was not the time to disabuse Mama of Lydia's reality.
“Thank you,
Mary. I am overcome.”
“Do you wish
to retire to a private room to compose yourself, Mama?” Lizzy asked, resting
her hand upon Mama’s forearm.
“Good
heavens, no. ‘Tis nothing. It will pass.” She dabbed her nose and tucked the
soiled linen into the cuff of her sleeve. “Mr. Jones said this is perfectly
normal. Thank goodness. Why the other day, I spotted the first fall leaf in my
garden and wept. Your Papa told me I looked beautiful and wept. I declare, our
horse could throw a show, and I’d weep.”
Lizzy laughed and hugged Mama, her own eyes
glistening.
“Mine was
Georgiana playing a lovely piece while we waited for your arrival.”
Mama gasped and stepped back, assessing her daughter.
“Are you…?”
“Yes. We
didn’t write because we wanted to surprise you. Imagine ours when you arrived
in all your glory.”
They dissolved into more laughter, then as suddenly as
she began, Mama stopped.
“Oh, how I
wish my dear Lydia could be here for all this good news.”
“I have not
heard from Lydia in over three months,” Kitty said, coming alongside Mama and
giving her a warm hug. “I fear my sister and husband do not have the blunt for
travel. She wrote, begging for more funds in the last letter.”
“She has
such high spirits and is such a favorite of all the officers in Newcastle. It
is no wonder they exceed their income. It is quite expensive, entertaining in
your home.”
All four sisters shared a knowing look between them. It wasn’t entertaining at home that drained the coffers of the Wickham household. However, this wasn’t the time or place to disabuse Mama of Lydia’s reality.
I'm playing catch up. Just saw a little something: I think you meant shoe.
ReplyDeleteI declare, our horse could throw a show,
Thank you. Will go back and check/revise
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