Now that she had some money, Anne was able to be generous with the servants, and it was not hard to find a footman who liked dogs, and was happy to care for Minette. Anne quickly learned the advantage of having a dog: she must walk now, whether she would or no; if the little creature did not have its exercise, it would not be healthy. Three days later, it was wet and showery; they did not ride, but Minette must have her walk. Anne came in, a little damp but smiling, to find that Miss Rackham had arrived to spend the day with Georgiana, and the Caldwells were making ready to depart.
“My dear,” Mrs Caldwell said, “would you do us a very great favour? Would you lend us the sheets of your story, as far as has been read to this point? We will take very great care of them, and return them in a short while; but we would so much like to read them again.”
Anne agreed readily, delighted to find that her story had such a power of commanding interest, and knowing that with such people as these, her precious manuscript would be safe. She would have liked to ask if Edmund might be interested to read it, but could not trust her voice in asking. She bade them farewell with real regret. These people, she thought, would have been my family.
Scarcely had the sound of their carriage ceased to be heard down the avenue, than the noise of another could be heard approaching. Anne, feeling that she wanted solitude, instantly resolved to take refuge in the library. Soon she was at her table, and Minette, dry and warm, was in the basket provided for her. Mr Bennet, with the same instinct, had made for his armchair; they never disturbed each other. But Minette would not stay in the basket, and whined to be picked up. Only to keep her quiet, Anne took the little dog onto her knee, and sat, stroking its warm, silky coat. She had seldom held a little creature like this before, and never for very long. The sensation was delightful. And Minette was her own, her very own! Only Edmund, she thought, could have made her such a perfect gift. Only Edmund… but her thoughts were interrupted. The butler approached: “If you please, miss, there are some visitors here, who are asking for you.”
“Who is it, Forrest?”
“The Duchess of Stilbury, miss, and Lord Francis Meaburn. Mr and Mrs Darcy are with them, and Miss Georgiana, but they have asked for you especially.”
“Of course, they are acquainted with my mother. I will come at once.”
It was strange, but she felt perfectly capable, now, of meeting with complete strangers. Since she was the granddaughter of a nobleman, and the daughter of a Baronet, rank in itself did not particularly frighten her, and her improved health and looks had given her a confidence she had never previously known.
The Duchess, at least, was not the kind of person to inspire alarm, being merely a tall, large, silly-looking woman, dressed rather too fashionably for a visit to a country house in the daytime. But her brother was a different matter. Likewise tall, but much younger, fair-haired and handsome, he exuded an air of self-confidence that it might not be out of place to call arrogance, and also a slight, but detectable, air of dissipation and boredom. His sister obviously adored him.
Anne wondered if this was why Colonel Fitzwilliam, at least, looked uneasy; this was not the kind of man, she guessed, whom he liked to present to his female cousins. Colonel Fitzwilliam, she thought, having dined with them in Burley, has been forced into making the introduction. Georgiana and Miss Rackham looked frightened out of their wits. Elizabeth merely looked amused: Anne remembered that she had never, for a moment, shown awe, or even respect, for Lady Catherine; if the Duchess had tried to patronize Elizabeth, she had wasted her time. Cousin Darcy merely looked politely bored. After the introductions had been made in form, they all sat and looked at each other.
“You were in the library when we arrived, I believe, Miss de Bourgh,” the Duchess said. “Are you a great reader? Are you a reader of novels, or do you despise them?”
“No indeed, I enjoy them very much,” said Anne. She had a feeling that the Duchess would not like to hear that she was writing one. “But Mr Darcy has an excellent library on general topics as well, and I have been reading about the curious rocks and minerals of Derbyshire.”
“Dear me! That sounds very serious. I never think that we poor women should tax our intellects too hard.”
“It always seems very unfair to me,” said Elizabeth, “That if a woman reads novels, she is called frivolous; and if she reads more serious works, she runs the risk of being called a blue-stocking.”
“And if she reads nothing at all,” said Darcy, “whatever she is called, she will be very stupid indeed.” Anne had to bend her head to hide a smile.
After this, the conversation ranged, with amazing insipidity, from the weather, to the countryside, to the amenities of Burley, and Anne wondered why they had been so anxious to meet her. Perhaps they had brought a letter from her mother? But none was produced. Lord Francis, the introduction once made, barely spoke again. They moved into an adjoining saloon, where refreshments had been laid out; the refreshments were praised; the room was praised, the pictures on the wall were praised.
Eventually the visitors got up to leave, and the Duchess, smiling graciously, said, “You will see us again, you know, at Lady Louisa's ball; we shall be pleased to see you. She has not yet sent out her invitations, but do not be afraid, you are all asked, and we are very pleased. But your mother tells me you do not dance, Miss de Bourgh? Is that so?”
“No, madam,” Anne replied. “It is not the case any more. There was a time, when I was in poor health, when dancing was too much for me, but I am recovered.”
“I am afraid I may not be able to give you the meeting,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “I am being recalled; I have had letters this morning.”
“Well, we shall see the rest of you there. Goodbye,” and she graciously held out her hand.
“Haw,” said Lord Francis, speaking to her for the first time. “Haw. Dog. Little dog. You like dogs, Miss de Bourgh?”
Trying not to laugh, Anne said “I like this one, sir.”
“Haw. So do I. Nice little creature.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Glad you dance. Must dance with me, at the ball.”
“Certainly, sir. Goodbye.”
“Well,” said Georgiana as soon as they had gone. “What was all that about? I was never so frightened in my life; and they did not seem to like us one bit. Why did they come? Cousin Fitzwilliam, are you really being recalled?”
“Certainly I am; did you think I would tell a lie? The Army has decided that it must take a look at me, and decide whether I am fit to go back and be shot at again, though they have not yet told me when they will send for me. I am quite ready, and I think I shall do very well. I need action; I miss my comrades. You have all been very good to me, but it is time to be gone. But tell me, Darcy: why do you think the Duchess and her precious brother came here? For they brought no message from Lady Catherine, not even a greeting. I have a very good idea that they came without Lady Catherine's knowledge.”
“A thirty-mile drive, for the sake of an hour's visit,” Darcy said. “Is our society really so desirable?”
“I am afraid that I may have done harm there,” Fitzwilliam confessed. “I think my little stratagem for avoiding Lady Catherine's anger awakened these people to the fact that her daughter was staying in the neighbourhood. I think they knew before that Anne is a rich heiress, but did not know how rich; and in any case, assumed her to be sick, and at Rosings. I think they came here on what we would call in the Army a reconnaissance expedition; I think they came to take a look at you, Anne.”
“Why Anne?” Mrs Darcy asked. “Why not Georgiana, too? She is just as much an heiress as Anne; they could see two of them, for the price of one.”
“It could be a very good match,” Darcy said. “Lord Francis has rank, good looks, and a splendid position in society, and he appeared good-natured. He would do for either of you.”
“But he is old!” said Georgiana. “And he is so stupid!”
“I do not think him at all clever,” said her brother, “but many clever, well-educated women marry stupid men, and are quite happy with them. His lack of money alone must make either of you acceptable to him; he could not do better. I shall not flatter your vanity by telling you that you are both pretty girls.”
“And if he needs money as badly as they say,” Elizabeth added, “he would probably be quite willing to marry both of you, if he were allowed.”
“Well, that may be,” said Georgiana. “He does seem very good-humoured. But I do not intend to marry an old, stupid man, however high his rank may be. I want to marry somebody young, who likes the things that I like. Do not you, Anne?”
“Yes, indeed,” said Anne. “I think a similarity of ideas is the most important thing for happiness in a marriage, and surely a similarity of age must be part of that, for older men do not like the same things as young women.”
“You are both of you far too nice,” Darcy said. “If it were left up to you two, I do not know what would become of all the stupid men. Somebody must marry them, or what will become of us all?”
“I do not see that at all,” said Elizabeth. “If nobody married any of them, the race of stupid men must die out.”
“Well,” said Georgiana, “however that may be, I am glad that I do not have to dance with Lord Francis. What shall you say to him, Anne? Haw? Haw?” and they all began to laugh.