Her thoughts were silently fixed on the irreparable injury which too early an independence and its consequent habits of idleness, dissapation and luxury had made… The world had made him extravagant and vain — Extravagance and vanity had made him cold-hearted and selfish.
Elizabeth called in St. James's for what she expected would be her last visit to the Brandons' townhouse. Elinor had written that morning to report that, given the failure of Darcy and Edward's meeting with Mr. Dashwood, the Ferrars saw little reason to continue their stay in town and would depart for Devonshire on the morrow.
Darcy, too, had expressed his desire to get Kitty and themselves out of London by weeks end.
So Elizabeth set out to take proper leave of Mrs. Ferrars and assure her that, whatever had transpired between Elinor's nephew and Elizabeth's family, the Darcys valued their acquaintance with Mr. and Mrs. Edward Ferrars, and desired its continuance.
To her disappointment, she arrived to find Elinor just going out.
'You shall have to excuse me,' Mrs. Ferrars said, 'but I am on my way to see Harry, and this is my only opportunity to do so.'
Elizabeth accepted this announcement as good news. Perhaps Edward, upon review of yesterday's interview, had struck upon a novel strategy to reclaim Mr. Dashwood. She did not, however, see Elinor's husband anywhere about.
'Does Mr. Ferrars accompany you?'
A guilty expression crossed Elinor's features. 'Edward does not know — he is out with the Brandons and my mother. From what he told me of his encounter with Harry, I suspect he would not approve of my going. But I could not come all this way to London only to leave without so much as a glimpse of my nephew — without attempting myself to prevail upon him, even though others have been unable to do so.'
'I could not either, were I you. How did you intend to get to townhouse?'
'By hackney.'
'I will take you.'
Elinor gratefully accepted Elizabeth's offer, and soon the Darcys' carriage headed toward Pall Mall. Elinor seemed anxious, a mood Elizabeth jointly ascribed to apprehension over her imminent meeting with Harry and unease over the perceived deceit of making this call without Edward's knowledge.The former, at least, Elizabeth could attempt to mitigate, and perhaps the latter.
'As I have mentioned previously. Mrs. Ferrars, you should prepare yourself for a great alteration in your nephew,' she said. 'But take hope in the possibility that as a Dashwood yourself, you may succeed where others have failed in convincing him that your ancestor's legacy is not one to be admired.'
'I pray you are correct.' she replied. 'I thought I would try evoking his memories of my father and Uncle Albert — forebears more worthy of his esteem. I only hope I do not get the reception Edward and Mr. Darcy did yesterday. One hopes Mr. Dashwood retains enough civility to treat a lady with more courtesy'
'One hopes.' Elizabeth recalled his conduct toward Kitty, and doubted it. But she kept the opinion to herself, seeing little value in amplifying Elinor's trepidation.
'Mrs. Darcy, migln I impose upon you to call on him with me? You have been in his company recently and might discern better than I an opening in the conversation that could be used to our advantage. And when I tell Edward of this visit — as tell him I must — the fact that I called with a companion might lessen any displeasure the news occasions.'
'Of course I will accompany you.' Elizabeth would have done so simply for friendship's sake, but Elinor's invitation also offered the potential for a glimpse at Mr. Dashwood's looking glass— provided it had arrived from Norland, and that she could locate it within the townhouse. She didn't imagine the Mirror of Narcissus was something likely to be left lying around the front hall.
She recalled Professor Randolph's caveat to refrain from looking directly into the glass, and to bring his amulet with her.
Unfortunately, she could not heed all of his advice. She did not have the amulet on her person at present, nor could she justify to Elinor the need to stop at her own home en route to Pall Mall so she could retrieve a pocketwatch. She would simply have to go without it, for this would likely prove her only opportunity to obtain a look at the mirror.
As they arrived and disembarked from the carriage, a woman emerged from Mr. Dashwood's townhouse. At first. Elizabeth wondered if they beheld Harry's mystery mistress, but then she recognized the lady as Lucy Ferrars. Lucy stomped down the steps in such a state of vexation that she did not hear Elinor's salutation and almost strode right past them without
recognition. A second greeting from Elinor slowed her.
'Elinor!' Lucy appeared startled. Her gaze darted toward her carriage as if she contemplated continuing into it without pausing to talk to them. Her sharp features tensed with impatience as the demands of common courtesy defeated ihe impulse.
'Whatever are you doing here?'
'I was about to ask the same of you.' Elinor said. 'Mrs. Darcy and I hope to implore Harry to come to his senses.'
'Well, good luck to you! Harry Dashwood is a knave and a scoundrel and I don't know what else! He can go to the devil, all I care!'
'Good heavens, Lucy. What has happened?'
He's lost all sense of honor, that's what. He'll take advantage of anybody.' Her cat eyes narrowed as she struggled to check tears of anger. 'I declare. Elinor, he has completely lost conscience! Take my advice — get back in your carriage, go home, and forget you ever considered coming here I wish I had.'
With that, she threw herself into her gig and left.
'Well!' Elinor pulled her gaze away from the receding vehicle to face Elizabeth. 'That certainly makes one want to proceed, does it not?'
'It makes me wish we had arrived a quarter hour earlier.'
Harry had probably grown weary of Lucy circling his townhouse to scavenge for gossip, and told her so in terms Elizabeth might have found diverting.
The housekeeper kept them standing outside while she ascertained whether the master was at home. Knowing quite well was within, the ladies wondered whether he might refuse them entry following his row with Lucy But the servant returned and admitted them.
There, resting in the last place Elizabeth expected to see it, was the mirror. Mr Dashwood had indeed left it lying about the front hall — at least, temporarily. It leaned against the wall, still wrapped in the heavy blankets that had protected it during its journey from Norland. The blankets prevented Elizabeth from examining its detail, but given its size and dimensions, the object could be none other than Harry's antique looking glass. Three footmen, the same three who had struggled with it the last time Elizabeth called, prepared to move it once more. They looked for all the world as if they would be overjoyed to never lay eyes on the massive thing again.
Wineglass in one hand and pipe in the other, Mr Dashwood directed their efforts from the landing above. 'Simply stash it somewhere convenient for now — one of the spare bedchambers, perhaps. Lord Phillip says he will come retrieve it on the morrow'
'Yes, sir.' replied one of the men, who appeared of the opinion that lifting the mirror up two flights of stairs for a single day's residence did not constitute his definition of convenience!
Elizabeth caught Mr. Dashwood's last statement with interest. Why was Lord Phillip taking possession of the looking glass? Had he, like Albert Dashwood, been asked to 'keep it for a little while'?
'Mrs. Darcy, you and your friend may join me in the drawing room.' Without waiting for Elizabeth and Elinor, he turned round and entered that room himself.
The ladies climbed the staircase before it became occupied by the looking glass. Elizabeth had hoped to
