Continuation 5

Dearest friend,

I cannot think why I should not have told you all of my happenings in the past few weeks. Perhaps it was that such a dull thing had occurred and yet so very cautious was I that I did not want to mention too much when there was nothing passing but mere new acquaintances. But I think perhaps it could be more. As of late, two men have arrived in our neighborhood, a Mr. Wickham Woodfield of Hallowwood Park here in Kingsbury and a Mr. Horatio Wentworth of Allenhelm Park in Surrey. It seems Mr. Wentworth oft stays with Mr. Woodfield because their business of late requires their mutual cooperation. I understand Mr. Wentworth to have a house in town as well. He is talkative for a man of seven and twenty, though I only know from my own experiences with him. Curious thing this - I am not very flirtatious or, in the way of these current young ladies, very forward. So it is a wonder that things should change so suddenly. Mr. Woodfield is rather too observant for his own good. He is impetuous, to be sure, but he is friendly at least. I feel that I am under examination in his presence - he seems to be trying to discern hidden ways in me. Imagine that! I, the inventor of disguising my study of people and observation, is now the observed! My particular interest does fall on Mr. Wentworth though. Mr. Woodfield is handsome, certainly, but I find my fancy is satisfied with Mr. Wentworth. Not to mention, he has a similar interest in religion. I wonder what God means by all this. It was only in the fall of last year that I thought to myself I might like a young man to wonder about. Indeed, I never thought such an idle inclination would be met with a very lively reality. Are there young men who fancy women that are more interested in philosophy and religion? For heavens sake, I prefer the study of Greek to neighborhood gossip, new fashions, or new acqaintainces! I should think men very interested in those women so very ladylike and delicate. When I think of myself, I must admit that I am not very delicate and enjoy laughing and talking a great deal. And what of your writings, Memsie? Have you written very much? Have you found a publisher for your first novel? After having read it, I find no suggestion needed, only that it needs to be published faster. With the fortune that you build for yourself, no doubt when you wed, you will need to find a man of the highest consequence for your successes! I laugh to myself that you will have an income greater than many of the wealthy men here in Kingsbury. But will you ever marry? For surely, you are fastidious - I should think there might be at least one man in all England to be worthy of your notice! We shall see yet. Please send me your first chapters if you have any. I should delight in a diversion from this rather petty nonsense of new acquaintances. But then he and I did dance twice this past evening - and he came directly to find me, when I incorrectly perceived that he had already departed. Oh, what does all this mean? Dear, write back to me when you get the chance. I have not the capacity of what to make of these things. It is a life entirely new, somewhat exciting, and ready to be poked at with some wit and laughter.

Adieu - I await your words and sense.
Yours &tc.

Having penned her note, Eliza immediately bound it and wrote the address. That a woman of such dry sense and good taste as Memsie Jane Bradfield should live in such a place as Bath was beyond the understanding of Eliza. But then, Eliza contended that it was, perhaps, the best place in the world to study all types of people, and as a writer, Memsie's understanding was highly dependent upon the study of characters. Surely Memsie lived there for diverting entertainment despite her annoyance with silliness and frivolity. In either case, Eliza was content to consult her, if not for her thoughts and perceptions, for her wry and humorous take on all of these events. Between her and Memsie, she could allow herself the raptures of wit and humor over such a trivial thing as a man's fancy.

Eliza woke just as early after little sleep and she was in a touch ill humor if simply it meant she was less talkative for exhaustion. But her excitement did not wan long. She remembered the pleasant evening and remembered to give the page her letter to Miss Bradfield to the post. It was a beautiful morning. She dressed herself in one of her fine gowns to visit Mrs. Worthington and discuss the past evenings events. Mrs. Worthington happened to be at the Weathersbys the night before, however, she did not speak with Eliza for she was occupied with her own friends. Eliza was content to visit in private as it was so that she could be unreserved. After dressing and a very rushed breakfast, she took her small diary with her so as to tell Mrs. Worthington, more concisely, how she felt and what she thought.

Eliza all but ran to the stable to mount her horse, Winchester, and promptly rode the five miles it was to Mrs. Worthington's estate.

Mrs. Worthington lived in a smaller estate, but the gardens were the envy of all the neighborhood. Rachel Worthington was a keen gardener and liked to have the outdoors look romantic. It was her opinion that if God was characterized by love, should not His creation reflect it? Well, she supposed, as much as it could reflect it. In either case, Southerton Abbey was beautiful, romantic, and idyllic in its setting. As lovely as the grounds were at Eliza's own home Kellerfield, she could find no peace to think there. And she was in need of immediate consolation and discussion.

She dismounted Winchester, haphazardly throwing the reigns at a servant, who managed to miss them altogether for Eliza's haste. She half walked ladylike to the great entrance and ran when she felt no one to be watching. At the door, she was met by the housekeeper Mrs. Ellis and escorted to the drawing room where Mrs. Worthington sat painting. Eliza was relieved, though she was concerned that she looked like a helpless four-year-old girl who couldn't find her doll. Being that they were very close, though Mrs. Worthington was five years Eliza's senior, Eliza enjoyed life unreserved with her.

"Well my love, what brings you here this day?" Mrs. Worthington's friendly face looked at the rather unsettled but happy Eliza.

"Oh, Rachel. I have danced with a man, talked with him much, and know not what to make of these things. He is handsome and we talk for an age, seeing as we study similar subjects and topics. I just think of what I said in the fall - and almost bless and curse my idle wishing and thinking."

"Eliza, you are a dear, and I must tell you that everything will be fine. This has only just begun, has it not?" She was chuckling, which made Eliza feel very good - she knew things would be quite alright, but it was reassuring to hear it from someone else. Eliza was once again confronted with her self-doubting nature, when really she knew exactly how to feel. Why must she have reassurance so often?

"It has, I apologize. It's simply uncharted, new, and wonderous territory for me. I suppose it's very unexpected."

"My friend, why should you be so surprised? I should think many would fancy you for your sense and intelligence, and your good humor. You are pretty, too."

"Thank you, Rachel. But understand that it's because I guess, I gave little thought to the reality of anything happening - rather, I didn't expect things to change this soon."

"You said that you danced? Was this at the Weathersbys' last evening?"

"Yes. And I was glad of the company. He's so charming. But I know so little. Time will tell."

"Yes, love, it will. Would you like to take tea with me?"

"Please, let's."

Eliza was always comforted and calmed in the presence of wise women such as Rachel who listened and talked, laughed and chastized with grace and love. She passed tea and lunch with Rachel (though Rachel did take tea rather early), and had a mind to ride to Kellerton proper and walk around town, which she did after leaving Southerton Abbey at a quarter past one.