Darcy and Anne

“I know it,” said Mr Edmund Caldwell. “It was not published recently, but it is very good, and there is a great deal in it about our county.”

“Do you know,” said Mrs Endicott, “that in a short while a great map will be published, of all the British Isles, showing the rocks that lie underneath, in every place? And he will buy it, will you not, Edmund?”

“Yes, indeed,” he said. “Whatever the cost, I shall buy it.”

“Come, try a novel,” Mrs Caldwell said, smiling at Anne. “Do try. There can be no harm. You want something a little lighter to read before you go to sleep.”

“If you give her the last one you lent to me, she will not sleep at all,” said Mrs Endicott. “She wants no Horrid Mysteries, or midnight frighteners.”

“No, no,” said Mrs Caldwell. “I have one here that is very pretty, and harmless. Now, where is it? On this table here, I think, for I put it down the other day…”

While she hunted for it, Anne looked further along the shelves, and found a small pamphlet: An Account of some Curious Derbyshire Rock Formations by Edmund Caldwell. Publisher: John Endicott.

“Oh!” she said. “Did you write this, sir? I would dearly like to read it.”

“You may keep it, Miss de Bourgh,” said its author. “We have a good number of unsold copies.”

“Oh, come,” said Mrs Endicott. “It did not sell at all badly.” “

No, but we can certainly spare one for Miss de Bourgh.”

Meanwhile, the elder Mr Caldwell had been looking through an untidy writing desk. He now came toward them, with an envelope in his hand.

“This is something that you may like to see, my dear,” he said, sliding out a letter, and holding it out to her.

The paper was not new. Anne saw the address, She saw the first words “My dear Caldwell, I was so pleased to receive your letter,” and knew her father's hand. She could see him, sitting at the desk in his library, writing, while she sat close by in a big armchair, playing with her doll. She felt the tears rising to her eyes, she felt her face convulse; she began to cry, and found that she could not stop.

Chapter 6

A young lady who faints may awake chivalrous sentiments in gentlemen; a young lady who weeps engenders only a strong desire to be elsewhere. By the time Anne was recovered enough to look up, both Mr Caldwells had disappeared. Mrs Endicott was holding her hand, Mrs Caldwell was proffering a clean handkerchief, and a maid was bringing in a tea-tray.

“Oh, what must you think of me?” was her first exclamation.

“We think that you have had a dreadful two days, and are tired and distressed,” was Mrs Caldwell's reply. “Now, Miss de Bourgh, here is a cup of tea; do you drink it, and then you shall wash your face and feel better.”

The tea did make Anne feel better, and then she found that Mrs Endicott's carriage had been ordered to take her back to the hotel. In spite of her protests, she was glad of it. When they got outside they found that it was needed, for the sultry weather of the past few days had broken, and a heavy rain had begun. Both ladies went with her, bringing a number of novels; and saw to putting her to bed, and the ordering of a bowl of bread and milk. She felt much more comfortable, but her mind was still in great distress.

“Mr Caldwell, oh, poor Mr Caldwells. What a terrible thing for me to do. I must have made him feel so dreadful,” she lamented.

“He is only sad for you,” said Mrs Caldwells, who knew that her husband was, in fact, saddened and distressed beyond measure. Anne knew it, too. Tired as she was, and late as it was, she must not allow her friends to leave, without at least trying to put the matter right. An idea came to her.

“Do you think,” she asked, “that Mr Caldwells would allow me to keep the letter? It chances that, since I was always at home, my father never wrote me a letter. I have nothing in his writing, which is why I was so overcome. It would mean a great deal to me, to have it.”

“My dear!” exclaimed Mrs Caldwells joyfully, “it will make him so happy. I can answer for it—he will be delighted.”

The two ladies left, promising to call the next day and take her for a walk to see the beauties of the surrounding countryside. Anne lay back and closed her eyes. What a pleasant thing it was, to be with people who talked about books, and ideas; and who argued but never got angry! She remembered Edmund Caldwells, smiling at her over the little stone platter; the thought came into her mind that Mr Edmund Caldwells had smiled at her very agreeably indeed.

She found, it seemed only a few minutes later, that she had slept the night through.

Monday dawned with some improvement to Lady Catherine. Her assistants assured Anne that she would sleep a great deal, and was best not disturbed, for the time being.

The rain had stopped, but the roads were still wet. Mr and Mrs Caldwells arrived, and told her that Mr Edmund had returned to his home to attend to his business. “He spends a great deal of time with us,” said his mother, “and I think the reason is, that he has never married. He says that he has never seen the woman he wants to marry, and that the lead mine, and the quarry, must come first with him, and I suppose it is very right that they should; but I should like to see him with a good, kind wife, and some little children of his own.”

Mr Caldwells, smiling affectionately, handed over to Anne her father's letter. She thanked him again and again, and put it away, as a treasure to be kept for life. “I would not deny myself the pleasure of waiting on you, my dear,” he said, “but I do not propose to stay; the weather is not suitable for a walk, all the field ways will be swamped, and the ladies have had the idea of taking you into the warm bath.”

Anne felt doubtful.

“There are only ladies there during the morning hours. It is very harmless, and very pleasant,” said Mrs Endicott.

“And health-giving,” added Mrs Caldwells. “I am sure good Dr Lawson will approve, for he always recommends it. Come, Miss de Bourgh, you will enjoy it, I am sure; and if you do not like it, we will undertake to bring you straight back, at any moment you choose.”

The bathhouse was large, cavernous, and rather ill-lit. It seemed very strange, to be in such a place, and then to be so strangely dressed, but the smiles of the other ladies reassured her—and indeed, they did all cut such comic figures! It was impossible not to be amused, and they all started laughing together. She entered the water timorously, Mrs Caldwells holding her hand, but was at once conscious of the extraordinary warmth, and the feeling both of comfort to her limbs and reassurance to her mind. She began gently moving about, enjoying the sensation of the water flowing about her. “How wonderful it is!” she whispered.

“And how strange to think,” said Mrs Caldwells, “that this flow of warmth, of comfortable, gentle warmth, comes from those terrible fires deep within the earth!”

Her enjoyment was such that she kept asking for a little more time, and they actually had to insist on her coming out at last. She thought it was a long time since she had felt so well.

The sense of well-being stayed with her throughout the day.

Lady Catherine awoke toward the end of the afternoon. Her attendants were pleased with her progress; sitting up in bed in her lace wrapper, she was fully able to converse. She was, as Mrs Williams had predicted, well enough to be cross; and she availed herself of the fact to be very cross indeed. Anne had to relate the history of the previous evening and of the morning—or as much of it as she thought her mother needed to hear. She said nothing of her tears, or the letter, only that the Caldwellss had taken her home to borrow a book, and taken her into the bath.

Lady Catherine was not pleased. “Caldwells? Caldwells? Who are these people? I have no recollection of ever meeting anybody of that name. Sir Lewis was in the habit of making odd friends; but that does not mean that his wife and daughter are obliged to know them. We may have been acquainted, very slightly, but twenty years ago—you are talking about twenty years ago. I certainly have no recollection of any letter of condolence from