“You have made a conquest, my dear,” I announced as I regained Cassandra's room. “You must endeavour to find your feet in time for tomorrow's Assembly, since poor Mr. Dagliesh will be quite undone if you fail to appear/ ‘

“It must be impossible,” she replied, her eyes turned upon some inner pain; “the thought of ail motion and music is repugnant to me.”

“And if you truly wish to secure Mr. Dagliesh,” I added reasonably, “by all means, remain elusive. Disappoint his every hope. Make yourself so scarce that he shall come to believe you a lady encountered in a dream, forever out of reach, and thus, forever to be desired.”

“But you shall have the Assembly,” Cassandra observed, ignoring my raillery from long familiarity with its nature. “Pleasure at least shall not be denied to you, dear Jane. And since I cannot go myself, you might have the wearing of my pink gown. I should be the happier to know it is of use.”

“Pink is a color decidedly unsuited to the redness of my complexion, as you very well know,” I replied, as I drew wide the window curtains, so that my sister might gaze upon the waves beyond the Cobb. “I suspect that you make a present of the gown, Cassandra, in order to scare away my suitors, and win them all for yourself.”

“I had entirely forgot your blushes.” Her voice faltered. “I fear I have been forgetting altogether too much. A consequence of the knock, perhaps. Do you think it a permanent one, Jane? Am I to be made quite an idiot by the heedless driving of an heedless postboy?”

“You are not,” I said, perching at the bed's foot. “And would you have me attend a ball while my dearest sister lies confined by such cruel woes, as the forgetting of my blushes? You are too good, Cassandra, to think so ill of me.”

“Indeed I am not, Jane!” she cried, sitting up against the pillows perhaps too rapidly, and wincing. “I have caused difficulty and trial enough. You must go, and carry my father with you. James shall light your way with his Ian thorn, there being so little moon.”[9]

James is our new manservant, acquired, like the portraits of ships that adorn our walls, with the house.

“Very well,” I said, shifting myself from her bedside at the sound of voices below. “I shall attend the Lyme Assembly tomorrow e'en, and wear your pink gown, if only to encourage your envy. I intend you to be quite wildly green, Cassandra, at all my good times; and so encourage you to quit this room as soon as ever you may. For if I am not very much mistaken, my dear, Henry and Eliza are even now at the door; and no one can be abed while Eliza is underfoot. The noise of her chatter alone should banish sleep for a fortnight.”

THERE WAS NO WONDER IN THE APPEARANCE OF MY BROTHER HENRY and his wife, Eliza — who, as well as being my sister[10] these six years at least, has ever been my cousin, and as fond of calling Henry's family her own, before she could claim the rights of a daughter, as she has been ever since. Indeed, we had parted from the Henry Austens not many weeks before, during their annual visit to Bath, and the scheme of joining us in our travels was undertaken one morning in the very Pump Room.[11] Both declared themselves wild to see Lyme; and very little more was necessary for the achievement of it. Eliza's craving for diversion is so constant, and her enjoyment of pleasure so honest and thorough, that my brother finds it necessary to avoid present tedium, by engaging in relentless plans for future delight; and so, in constant expectation of improvement to her spirits, Eliza makes a tolerable business of living from day to day.

“My dearest Jane!” she now cried, as she threw open the bedroom door. A swift embrace, as from a small whirlwind, and she had moved to my sister's bedside. “And poor, dear Cassandra. Does your head ache very much? Am I disturbing you dreadfully? No matter. We shall have you to rights in little time, I am sure of it You cannot do better than sea air, you know, for all manner of illness; and if that does not cure you, we shall whisk you away to Farquhar. He is quite the rage in London, I assure you, and has done wonders for my complaints — though I did commit the betise of addressing him as Doctor, ‘on our first meeting, when it should have been ‘Sir Walter.’”

“You have cut your hair, Eliza,” I said faintly, in some wonderment; and, indeed, her lovely dark head was quite shorn all around, and worn in a mass of curls. A peach silk turban, with a jet-black feather, topped the whole.

“Quite a la mode, is it not?” she rejoined delightedly, twirling her sheer muslin gown upon the drugget for our edification. ‘Or should I say—? la guillotine, for that is what they call it in London. Having cheated the infernal machine once already[12], I thought nothing now of parading my lovely neck. I quite recommend it to you both. The sensation of lightness, in ridding oneself of masses of hair, is indescribable.”

“For my part, I thank you, but no,” I rejoined gently, with a scandalised glance at Cassandra. We both of us have dark brown tresses that reach well past our knees; in truth, I can almost stand upon my hair, and my sister's is little shorter. I should feel worse than naked, did I part with it; I should suffer almost as from the loss of a limb. But Eliza met with, and let slip, most things in life with equal carelessness; and I could say in all honesty that the coiffure's gruesome style became her. I had never known her to adopt anything that did not.

“Eliza, my dear, you see how we are fixed,” said my mother as she walked briskly into the room. “You see how unbearably cramped we are. We cannot hope to keep you, nor Henry. You are intending the Golden Lion, I suppose?”

“Naturally, madam,” Eliza replied, and pecked my mother upon the cheek. “I have only just setded it that dear Jane shall walk with me there, that we might spare Cassandra our chatter. Her head aches fearfully, you know, though she never says a word.”

“There, my love,” my mother said with a start and a look for Cassandra, “I was almost forgetting. The young man who attended you earlier — Dervish, was it?—”

“Dagliesh,” Cassandra supplied.

“—begged that I should give you draughts of this green-bottled stuff whenever the pains take you.” My mother adjusted her spectacles to peer at a slip of paper she held in her hand. “Two spoonfuls in warm water,’ so Mr. Dawdle said, and seemed quite anxious I should get it right. He repeated it above three times, as though I were a woman of little memory and less sense. The meadow flowers were not to be steeped, as I had at first thought, but are to brighten your room.”

“Flowers, Mother?” I enquired, looking behind the door.

“Oh, Lord,” she breathed, “here I've left them below, when I thought to come up expressly for the purpose of setting them at your bedside. A lovely posy they are, and picked by Mr. Dawes himself. I believe you have made a conquest, my dear.”

“Though she cannot recollect of whom,” Eliza whispered, her eyes sparkling with fun.

“Madam,” I called after my mother's swiftly retreating back, “do not neglect to bring hot water and a spoon, for the administering of Cassandra's medicine!”

FROM OUR COTTAGE TO THE GOLDEN LION WAS A PALTRY DISTANCE, and at my expressing a desire to stretch my legs a little— for, in truth, I had been so much taken up with my sister's care, that I had not spared a moment for the town — Eliza declared herself ready to try the Cobb, and accordingly, we joined arms and set off down the length of stone Walk, heads into the sea wind.

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9

It was customary in Austen's time to stay at home on evenings with little moonlight, and accept engagements for those nights when the moon would be full. Travel along unlit roads could otherwise be quite hazardous. — Editor's note. 

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10

In Austen's day, relations by marriage were generally referred to as relations of blood. Although the term in-law existed, it was more of an affectation than common usage. — Editor's note.

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11

The Pump Room was the social center of Bath, where many of the residents and visitors congregated daily to drink the medicinal waters pumped up for their refreshment, and to stroll about in close converse with their acquaintance. To be seen in the Pump Room of a morning, and in the Upper or Lower Assembly Rooms at night, was indispensable to the conduct of one's social life. — Editor's note.

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12

Eliza's first husband, the French comte Jean Capot de Feuillide, was guillotined in 1794. Eliza retained her title of Comtesse de Feuillide even after she married Henry Austen, out of habit and a liking for its aristocratic air. — Editor's note. 


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