The alterations to the parsonage afforded Mary with an excuse for refusing most of the unwanted solicitations—until she could return hospitality in kind, she was resolute in declining it, but many a farmer’s muddy boots disgraced her parlour floor and many a gossiping housewife had to be endured nonetheless. She philosophized that such minor irritations were to be preferred to the ennui of having only the servants for company, and hoped that the end of the Season in London might bring more eligible families within visiting distance to their part of the country.
She attempted to soothe herself with the novelty of managing her own household, overseeing the alterations to the house and the yard, and spending whatever time with her husband that he could spare from his duties. Together, they become acquainted with their parish through walks and horseback rides, until they could count every cottage and name every family that dwelt therein.
Mary’s chief source of happiness derived from the knowledge that her husband adored her, was proud of her, and delighted in her company. To commence married life in the country in the springtime, was surely a recipe for contentment.
* * * * * *
Although she was unable to make anyone her true confidante, Fanny nonetheless yearned for a companion, and she formed the wish of inviting her sister Susan to come and stay with her. The letter was dispatched—the offer joyfully accepted—monies were provided—and Fanny’s father, finding it no hardship to leave his fireside when his married daughter was paying the fare, brought Susan to Everingham within three weeks of Mr. Crawford’s quitting it. Her father stayed long enough to admire the home, sample its wine cellar, observe that the servants were a pack of idle, shiftless thieves, and then returned to his familiar haunts, there to boast of his well-married daughter.
The arrival of Susan, with her energetic disposition, gave Fanny many funds of gratification. She could think of someone other than herself, by seeing to Susan’s comfort and pleasure. At first it was enough to watch as Susan reveled in the beauty, the air, the light and freedom of the country in the springtime, and to laugh as her sister ate her fill of whatever the cook put in front of them (and it was no surprise that she rated the cook much higher than did Fanny.)
Fanny soon realized, to her surprise, that Susan looked up to her, and wanted to acquire her elder sister’s quiet ladylike manner, and no tutor could be kinder and more patient than Fanny in smoothing away Susan’s little rusticities while teaching, chiefly by illustration, the arts of courtesy and feminine deportment. Nor could any young girl fail to be delighted by being provided for with a new wardrobe, shoes and bonnets. Fanny of course derived far greater pleasure in giving these things to Susan than she had felt when Mr. Crawford purchased her wedding clothes.
Susan was amused and delighted by Fanny’s cropped hair, and offered to trim it herself, as she had, for several years, served as the family barber for her younger brothers. She then resolved to cut her own hair off likewise, releasing the soft curls with which both sisters were favoured. “You said you don’t want a lady’s maid, so you have no one to dress your hair at any rate,” Susan reasoned. “You can keep it cropped, as we shall always wear our bonnets in church and in company, and you can wear your married lady’s caps while at home.” Fanny had grown accustomed to her shorn hair style and even suspected that it flattered her.
Because Susan’s eyes were upon her, Fanny was forced to exert herself. Susan was direct, impatient and curious—when Fanny lamented the over-rich fare and wished she could have something simpler, her sister asked her, then why don’t you say so? Susan forced Fanny to confront her own foolish timidity and her fear of giving offence to anyone, even her own servants.
Fanny was candid enough to acknowledge that her younger sister had qualities that she lacked—amongst them a good head for figures—and together they began to establish, in fits and starts, a new regime at Everingham. It was a joint project they undertook, at first out of motives of imposing better order and thrift, then out of increasing sensations of pride and accomplishment. They pored over the account books for the estate, marveling at how much in the way of butter and eggs, wine and meat, candles and fuel had been consumed while the master was not in residence. It was Susan who discovered that many of the servants were relations of the steward, Mr. Maddison—in fact, most of the servitors at Everingham were his nieces and nephews and cousins, and many of them, in the frequent absence of Mr. Crawford, were obliged to work for the steward in his residence, although of course their wages were paid by Everingham. Then came the day when one upper housemaid guilelessly revealed to Susan that she had to turn over a portion of her wage to her uncle Maddison to thank him for having found her employment!
Fanny resolved to speak seriously to Mr. Crawford, when she next saw him, about some needed reforms that she believed should only be undertaken by him, but in the meantime, she and Susan took the greatest pleasure in observing the gradual amendment in the manners and activity of the
