Free Old Friends and New Fancies by Sybil G. Brinton

countenance. Colonel Fitzwilliam did not allow himself yet to adopt the easy manner of an intimate friend, but the earnestness of his glance towards Mary, the eagerness with which he obeyed her slightest request, betrayed the state of his feelings, and his air and manner were those of a man whose thoughts are wholly pleasant.
"I am so sorry that this is really good-bye," Elizabeth was saying, "but I am consoled by thinking it is only for a little while. You will keep your promise and come to us this summer, will you not?" Mary Crawford and her sister repeated a cordial acceptance, and the former added: "You must tell us exactly how to come, Mrs. Darcy, you must explain all the intricacies of travelling between Brighton and Derbyshire, or we shall undoubtedly be lost on the road."
"Brighton! Shall you come from there?" and it was explained that the ladies generally spent the months of June and July at some seaside place, and Brighton had been thought of for this year. "Or we may be in London with my brother," continued Mary, "but wherever we are, if you remember to ask us, we shall come."
The usual protestations of the impossibility of forgetting followed, and very warm handshakes were exchanged; then Elizabeth, turning to her cousin, said: "Are you coming home now, Robert? It will be most unfriendly of you not to, for how else shall we see you again, since you positively decline to go with us to-morrow?"
Colonel Fitzwilliam hesitated, and said he had not thought of going home just yet; but Mary interrupted him by saying: "Pray don't let us keep you, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I am sure our coach will be there now, if you would kindly inquire. Colonel Fitzwilliam was so kind as to wish to put us into our coach," she added to Elizabeth, "but it would not be worth while, just for that, to prevent him from driving home with you and Mr. Darcy."
"I will go and see, certainly," said the Colonel, moving off; "but don't wait for me, Elizabeth. I would just as soon walk back, and I will see you and Darcy at breakfast."
Darcy drew his wife's arm within his, and they made their way to Lady Catherine, who was sitting very upright in an armchair and wearing her most stern and forbidding expression. To Elizabeth's civilly-worded thanks for all the kindness and pleasure which their aunt had bestowed on her relatives during their stay, she made no reply; but when Elizabeth referred to their departure on the morrow, she started, placed her hand coldly within her niece's for a moment, and said: "Yes, you are going, I recollect. You did not consult me in the matter, but still, perhaps this year it is as well you are not staying longer."
Elizabeth was too well accustomed to her aunt's insolent speeches to seek to account for them, and turned away; while Darcy, remarking, "Yes, we have stayed as long as we care to for this year," also shook hands with his aunt, cutting her rather short in the midst of a statement that she could send no message to Georgiana, and without further delay escorted his wife downstairs.
Mary Crawford watched them from the room, and then said to Mrs. Grant: "Let us go and say good-night also, Frances. We may as well be ready--and there will be the harp to be carried down."
"Very well, my dear," returned her sister. "We shall have to take our turn, for everyone else seems to be preparing to leave at once."
They approached Lady Catherine, and when after a few minutes they reached her side, to their surprise she addressed them in a more stiff and stately manner than usual. "Ah! Miss Crawford! I was awaiting you. Will you kindly come this way?" And she preceded them towards a small library, where cardtables had been placed, but which was now deserted.
Mary was not the least apprehensive of harm, and even whispered mischievously to her sister: "Perhaps she is going to present me with a fee!" so that her astonishment was unbounded when Lady Catherine, having closed the door, turned to her and exclaimed in a voice shrill with anger,