unwell, I will make up something to make you feel better.”
“Very well, sir.”
“Do you have difficulty eating? Yes, I thought so. It would be surprising if you did not. I will send you some raspberry tea, which I think you will find helpful. It is very simple, very natural, you need fear nothing. We must get you eating a little more, we do not like our young ladies to be quite so thin; we like young ladies a little fatter than this, in Derbyshire. I will tell good Mrs Brown to send you up a very plain supper; you cannot take rich foods, and do not be concerned if you do not feel like eating much, tonight, after the day you have had. But try to drink as much as you can; you may drink water, or lemonade, or tea, but not wine.”
“Oh no, sir, I never touch it.”
“Now, Miss de Bourgh, I must leave you. You will have but a dull day tomorrow, I am afraid, but you have had a great shock, and would do well to take things easy. You may look in upon your mother, but I have given her something to make her sleep; she will not need any attention from you. Mrs Williams knows just what to do. You can walk round the town as much as you like, the old town or the new, we are very law-abiding people here, no bad characters. Go and drink some of our good spring water, it is very useful, though not such a miracle-worker as some people like to think. And of course you will like to go to church; we are proud of our church, a beautiful old building.” And with a courteous farewell he was gone.
Go to church! Good heavens, today was Saturday! Tomorrow was Sunday! She had never given it a thought. Her letter certainly would not be delivered, probably had not yet left the post office. Her cousins would know nothing of her plight until Monday, or more probably Tuesday; and she almost burst into tears, at the thought of her useless, exhausting walk. Well! There was nothing to be done. She must wait. Help would some time come. She lay back and closed her eyes.
The promised supper arrived: some soup, a little roast chicken, and a very good jelly, along with the raspberry tea. Anne found, to her surprise, that she was hungry. The food was simple and good, the portions were small, and best of all, there was no one there to be concerned about what she ate, or how much.
After eating, she wondered whether it really was a good idea to take no medicine at all, whether she should not at least take her opiate; but found that every single bottle was gone. She remembered Dr Lawson working on the catch of his bag, while he was talking; he must have absentmindedly put them in. Never mind! He would certainly bring them back.
She looked in to enquire after her mother. Lady Catherine was asleep, and looked so exhausted, she hardly recognized her. The kind-faced woman who was the sickroom assistant told her not to worry. “I've seen people much worse than her, miss; she will do very well. She will be well enough to be cross tomorrow, you'll see.” Anne found herself so tired, nothing really seemed to matter, and although the sun had barely set, she thought she must go to bed. It was refreshing to think that there was nobody who would object, or even care.
But sleep did not come. She had been in the habit of taking laudanum for too long. Anne tossed and turned for some while; then another circumstance arose, to prevent her from sleeping. Her room overlooked the promenade, the hotel was directly opposite the entrance to the Rooms, and it was an assembly night. She heard the horses' hooves, the murmur of people arriving, she heard laughter; in the end she arose, and watched the carriages arrive, the pretty girls and the lively young men. It was a hot night, few wraps were worn; she could see the shimmer of jewels and the glint of embroidery. The music started. Over the laughter and chatter, she could hear it faintly. Soon the street was almost empty, only a few coachmen lingering, a few horses stamping as they stood. She could hear the music clearly now.