Darcy and Anne Read Online Free Page B

Anne was still awake when the music stopped and the sound of laughter, the sound of horses' hooves, told her that the dance was over, and the people were going home.

T HE NEXT MORNING WAS CLOSE AND WARM, WITH THE PROMISE of a sultry day. Anne enjoyed the walk to church, for she knew the way, and felt quite safe. The graveyard had a fine view over the surrounding hills and dales, and the old building was, indeed, a beautiful one, though in the old Gothic style. It was pleasant to hear a well-thought-out sermon—very different from poor Mr Collins's miserable efforts—and as she left the building, dr lawson greeted her. Crossing the churchyard, she recognized Mrs Endicott, who bowed and smiled, but did not speak. It was enough to send her back to her solitary meal in a cheerful frame of mind.
    But the afternoon tried her severely. She had nothing to read, and no one to speak to. Her mother was sleeping most of the time. Awake, she was not, as Mrs Williams had predicted, cross; she was quite unreasonable, and hardly seemed to know where she was. Anne had no recourse but to sit in her room, or to walk again and again around the hot promenade, and look in the windows of the shops. After three or four rounds, she knew their contents by heart: the ugly bonnet with the purple ribbons, the black and yellow boots, the dashing blue shoes, and the pieces of “Derbyshire spar.” She knew the titles of—and wished she could read—the books in the window of the bookstore; she knew the pattern of the railings and the very cracks in the pavement.
    It was boredom, and not devotion, that induced her to attend the evening service at the church. She felt her motives to be much less than admirable, and what no Christian should entertain: to go to church because she really had nothing else to do! However, when she entered it, the ancient building seemed to welcome her like a friend. It was very different from the church at Rosings, which was a handsome, modern building; but it was a church, it had sheltered others in anxiety and loneliness before her. The monuments on the walls reminded her of her father's memorial; people here, too, had loved, had grieved. She prayed for her mother, and felt reassured.
    As she was leaving, an elderly woman, simply dressed but obviously a gentlewoman, came up to her and asked if she was Miss de Bourgh. When she replied that she was, the lady said, “My name is Caldwell. I knew your father. My husband and he were great friends, and I met you when you were a very small child; your parents brought you on a visit to Pemberley.”
    She enquired after Lady Catherine, and said “My friend Mrs Endicott told me that you were here, and about your situation. I think I should have known you anywhere; you have a great look of your father. We liked him so very much, we were greatly saddened by the news of his death. Now, Miss de Bourgh, what can I do, or what can my husband do, to make things more comfortable for you while you are here?”
    Anne did not know what her mother would have thought of this, for Lady Catherine never made any new acquaintance, and always refused to meet new people; but the lady had known her father; it must be proper. And there was one thing she wanted very badly. Hesitantly, she asked if Mrs Caldwell could lend her a book. Any book! or if none were available, a newspaper; she would return it tomorrow, and go to a lending library, but for tonight she had nothing. Poor Anne thought to herself that she would read a cookery book, or a dictionary, if nothing else were to be had.
    “If that is all,” Mrs Caldwell said, “we shall be delighted; my husband has a large library, and I am very fond of reading myself. Our home is quite close by, and you may come and choose for yourself. But Mrs Endicott is staying with us, and I do not know if you and your mother would wish for her acquaintance. The Endicotts are not people of rank; her husband is a publisher and bookseller. If you prefer, tell me what