Sir John Middleton was so fond of parties that not many days were ever
allowed to elapse without his forming some plan to bring young people
together. His activities were very well thought of in general, and
it was perhaps only the family at Barton Cottage, who were perforce
included in all his schemes, who wished him less hospitable and
enterprising.
The occasion of Elinor and Edward Ferrars staying at Barton Cottage
must receive some special mark of attention from the Park. They dined
there as a matter of course, and they drank tea there on the next day,
but these entertainments, though they seemed to be sufficient to the
Ferrars, were to Sir John the merest foreshadowing of the delights
he had in store for them. There was to be a picnic, a ball, and if
possible theatricals, and all were set on foot with eagerness.
The picnic was the most easily arranged. They would all walk or drive
next Monday to the Priory and eat a cold collation there among the
ruins. The Careys and the Whitakers were to be invited, and they would
all be together and better able to plan for future happiness.
Monday came, and was not more unsuitable for picnicking than July days
usually are. The air was mild, the rain only slight and intermittent,
and the ground not particularly wet. It was a pleasant day for walking,
and the party from Barton decided to walk as the ruins were little more
than a mile distant. The Careys had farther to come and would drive
or ride. Only the youngers of this family were to be expected. Sir
Francis and Lady Carey were disinclined to leave their home occupations
whenever Sir John Middleton wanted a little company, but the young
people would arrive in satisfactory numbers, Walter Carey, who would be
the next baronet, his two elder sisters, and his two younger sisters in
charge of their governess. The Whitakers, a middle-aged couple with a
son and a daughter, had accepted and would certainly drive.
The Barton party was the largest. Sir John and Lady Middleton and their
children, Mrs. Jennings and Miss Steele, reinforced by Mr. Atherton
and the four from Barton Cottage would have made a very respectable
picnic-party without the distant neighbours who had been asked to join
them, but Sir John delighted in numbers, and considered any gathering
that consisted of less than twenty persons as lamentably small.
The party were to meet at noon, enjoy the cold viands that Lady
Middleton provided, explore the ruins, and discuss the theatricals.
Anyone who had any ideas on the subject was to produce them, and
between them all something good would be decided.
Lady Middleton was to drive with the children and baskets, and Mr.
Atherton was active in getting them seated in the carriage and
the baskets handed in. Several small jokes passed between him and
Annamaria, and William wished him to drive with them. Amidst much that
was affected in him, his liking for children seemed as genuine as
their affection for him, and Lady Middleton smiled on him with extreme
graciousness. She had felt hitherto not the slightest inconvenience
from the continued intimacy with the new incumbent, and now began to
think him a positive acquisition. He watched the carriage start to
overtake the main body, already on their way. Sir John escorted Mrs.
Dashwood and Elinor. Margaret had the society of Mrs. Jennings and
Miss Steele, which suited her very well, as they did all the necessary
talking. Mr. Atherton found that Edward Ferrars had remained behind to
walk with him.
It was natural that they should fall into some talk, some comparison
of their parishes. Barton seemed to have the advantage in some ways.
It was smaller. There was less visiting to be done among the poorer
parishioners. The income was slightly larger, but it was annoying to
find that the parsonage at Delaford did seem to be superior in size,
and in extent of grounds, and that, though the Barton vicarage had been
altered and improved, it did not appear that it was in any way equal.
Mr. Atherton expressed some surprise at hearing of so fine a house,
but added that he supposed Mrs. Edward Ferrars’s fortune must be an
assistance to her husband in maintaining such a style of living.
Edward was puzzled. Elinor’s fortune was no more than the thousand
pounds inherited from her grand-uncle, and he was at a loss to
understand why it should be supposed to be considerable. He hesitated,
remarked coldly that the Miss Dashwoods had not been wealthy, and began
to talk of the best breeds of cattle. Mr. Atherton became more or less
silent, that is, he replied when Edward asked questions, but originated
nothing himself. He was thinking, and the sum of his thoughts was
that the late rebuff might be all for the best. He did not feel much
affection for Margaret if she were without fortune. He liked her very
well, and admired her more than any other lady of his acquaintance,
but he now felt quite satisfied with the turn affairs had taken. During
that walk to the Priory, while discussing short-horns with Mr. Ferrars,
he finally withdrew his pretensions to Margaret’s hand.
Meanwhile, Margaret, unaware of her loss, walked beside Mrs. Jennings
and heard the flow of joking and laughter which she kept up with Miss
Steele, and thought of something quite different.
The Careys had arrived at the Priory before them, but nothing could be
done about unpacking the baskets till the Whitakers should be there.
The time must be spent in exploring the ruins, and strolling about
in twos and threes. Margaret was easily induced by Walter Carey to
climb the remains of an old tower, and from thence to obtain a fine
view of the country. It was a delightful exercise with just enough of
effort and danger to make it entertaining, and to make his steadying
hand acceptable. She enjoyed the small adventure, and found Walter
an agreeable companion. He was just returned home from Oxford, was
well-read and sufficiently talkative, and added the advantage of an
agreeable person to those of an easy manner and an intelligent mind.
They returned to the main party well pleased with themselves and with
each other.
The party were now collected. Mr. and Mrs. Whitaker and Mrs. Jennings
seemed to find great pleasure in meeting, and were settled with Mrs.
Dashwood on a bank sheltered from the breeze by a corner of ancient
wall. Lady Middleton overlooked the unpacking of the baskets, which was
being done by Elinor and Isabella Carey, while Penelope Carey and Mary
Whitaker carried round the trays of cakes and glasses. Sir John was
joking with Miss Steele, and cutting up veal pies, and Henry Whitaker
handed plates.
Mr. Atherton had arranged the children round a fallen stone as table
with the Careys’ governess at one end, and himself at the other, and
had piled the table with the good things. This looked the most cheerful
corner, but Margaret was not invited to join them. Walter found a
seat for her under an arch, and Edward strolled up to tell her that
he supposed she knew that she looked very picturesque, like a saint
in a window, or something of that sort. She was used to his brotherly
teasing, and made some suitable replies at about the level of the wit
that is usual at these gatherings, when no one says anything that they,
or any others consider worth a second thought.
It was all very agreeable, and the rain held off surprisingly. Every
one declared that they ate twice as much in the open air as they did
at home, and wondered why they did not come here more often; and got
rather sleepy, and then rather restless--and at last it must be time to
go home.
“But this will never do,” cried Sir John. “We have decided nothing
about the play.”
“How charming it would be if we could have it here!” exclaimed Isabella
Carey. “What a background that fine Norman arch would be! Surely there
is some play that would suit these surroundings?”
“Hamlet” and “Macbeth” were suggested, but Sir John wanted something
with more in it to amuse.
“How about ‘The Taming of the Shrew’ or that laughable play of Mr.
Sheridan’s, ‘The Rivals’ I think it’s called, or ‘The School of
Rivals,’ or something of the sort?”
These, however, were ruled out. Walter Carey was firm that a ruined
church was not the right setting for them.
“Well, then, much better have it in the Park grounds!” said Sir John.
“There is a nice open space not too far from the house, with trees and
a flight of steps that would make a scene to suit anything.”
A few drops of rain began to fall and Lady Middleton, in fear for her
children catching cold, hurriedly suggested that all should return to
the Park, look at the place Sir John described, and talk over all the
details under cover. Wraps were hastily found, and the party set off
with utmost expedition for the Park.