Expectations of Happiness Read Free Page B

the association. You know how Mrs Jennings scents out a romantic involvement and then talks endlessly about it to anyone who will listen. I can well believe Margaret would hate that.” When Edward merely nodded, she continued, “Of course, that must be it. Poor Margaret, she saw at firsthand the teasing that Marianne and I endured—no doubt she hopes to avoid it until it is quite settled and then she will reveal everything and surprise us all.”
    Presently, Edward and the two ladies walked over to Barton Park, where they were somewhat surprised to find Mrs Dashwood ably managing the household, a feat she had often been unable to cope with at Norland, surrendering it gladly to her eldest daughter.
    Meanwhile, Sir John Middleton, with the support of Colonel Brandon and plenty of good wine, was bravely meeting and greeting the many neighbours, friends, and confreres who were arriving every hour to condole with him. In spite of being kept very busy with these duties, Sir John did find time to thank Margaret Dashwood, expressing his great pleasure at seeing her. “I appreciate very much your thoughtfulness in coming, my dear, and I am sorry that your sister Marianne is unable to join us. Brandon tells me she is unwell—she always was a delicate flower, I suppose,” he said with a sigh, adding more brightly, “Miss Margaret, it was two Christmases ago that we all met in London, and since then you have grown exceedingly pretty and elegant, my dear. I am sure your mama is prodigiously proud of you.” Margaret, who had been a little wary of meeting him, blushed at the compliments but was glad she had come.
    Toward evening, when the house began to fill with more visitors, some from London and others from Bath, Margaret slipped away upstairs to spend some time with Mrs Jennings, who sat in her room, attended by her daughter, Charlotte. Finding the usually cheerful woman in a state of severe dejection, Margaret sat with her and tried to draw her into conversation, but to no avail. The usually loquacious and jolly Mrs Jennings appeared to have been stricken dumb with shock.
    Later, Margaret went to talk to her mother and was amazed to find her bustling about with household activities, consulting the housekeeper and cook on the meals to be prepared for their visitors, organising arrangements for guests who were staying at the manor house, and ensuring that the maids and footmen were going to be correctly attired and knew their duties on the day of the funeral. To see her mother carrying out all these tasks, with hardly any sign of the muddle and confusion that had beset her at Norland, was as amusing as it was surprising to her daughter.
    This did mean that, apart from an affectionate embrace and some quiet, tearful words, mother and daughter had little time together. Mrs Dashwood was saddened to learn that Margaret would not be staying to attend the funeral of Lady Middleton, but accepted her explanation that she needed to return to Oxford, assuming it had something to do with her continuing work at the seminary.
    ***
    Returning later that evening to Barton Cottage, they dined and Edward retired to read by the fire, while Elinor followed her sister upstairs to the spare room, where Margaret was preparing for bed. Seated in front of the mirror, she brushed and braided her hair, which was a pretty honey-gold colour that glowed in the firelight.
    Elinor, seeing her thus, was struck by the singular loveliness of her young sister. Following the marriages of her two older sisters, Margaret had grown up very quickly; she was now a very independent young lady, and as she recalled the bright, precocious little girl at Norland some years ago, Elinor struggled to contain her feelings.
    She went to her and, standing behind her, looked into the mirror; their eyes met and they smiled. It felt as though they had moved back in time and were as they had been, arriving at Barton Cottage following the death of their