"Wonderful!" exclaimed Lady Vernon looking at her own flesh and blood. Tall, now-rather-plump elderly woman couldn't tear her eyes from her daughter. For her she was her continuation, the reflection of her past beauty, the store to be stuffed with her lessons and maybe perhaps the only real delight in her life.
In response Rosie stared at her with the tortured look of a dying swan. "Well-well, my pussy, my dear", laughed the lady. "Oh, what a pretty you have become. And what a beautiful pair you would make with young Fitzroy". At that moment Rosie seemed to be paling with much greater seriousness.
"Is something wrong, my flower?"
"Mother..." There was a pause. "I'm not ready for the marriage yet."
"I know. Don't worry, now it is just an engagement. You are very young and you need to live for some time. Remember, marriage is a great responsibility and burden but it is just necessary. Live and enjoy your freedom while you can. It is not known what your fathers will decide. As well Sir William wants it to happen very soon. Notice, he loves you, dear, very very very much."
"Yes, Mama..." These were dropping somewhere very deep, that hardly ever could be heard.
"Just think, he is rich, highborn. Where would you find another such husband that could satisfy both me and your father? What is more he is very handsome, kind and gentle. Learn to be gentle with him. It is a great weapon of us women. Be gentle and he forever will be yours. It is a man any girl would marry, a good catch."
"But..." Her powers failed.
"What?"
"...I am afraid I don't love him..."
"You should marry not by love but by mind. And by the way, your fiancé is very pleasant, much more pleasant than your father. Understand you are very lucky. You'll quickly learn to like him."
"Yes, Mama... May I ask you a question?"
"Sure, dear."
"Mother, have you ever been in love?"
"To tell you the truth, never. I don't know what it is really. But it is much better without it. Each time I had seen people marry by love it would never have come out well. No, here is my love."
Lady Vernon kissed her daughter in the forehead.
"Will you be a good girl tonight?"
"Yes..."
The elderly woman addressed the maids:
"Finish quicker. Guests are already worn out with waiting." Again she leaned to her daughter. "And remember; learn to be gentle with him."
With those words she kissed her again and left the boudoir. Now were left mere details. Jenny, the closest of all maids to Lady Rosamund and unofficially maybe her dear friend, told others: "Have you heard? Now go-go-go-go-go-go! Hurry up! Don't linger on! I'll do everything myself!" She was half-Welsh. Her eyes and hair were very dark. In fact she looked more like the offspring of southern lands than of this misty island. Her manners and minds were quick. A very forward, full of pep and sturdy girl she was and it didn't make any labour for her to push everyone out of the room.
Both the lady and the servant were very pretty though absolutely different. One was a tender flower, a mysterious moon, a serious young philosopher with a dolefully thoughtful expression over her face. Another just a squirrel, the darling sun with beaming broad smile, from whose interest nothing could be concealed and hardly ever had been anything but gay and light-hearted. They absolutely complemented each other and gravitated like two contrary poles of magnets.
After the girl had shut the door, she came up to her mistress.
"You won't do this, will you?" she asked her. Rosie was silent but this question, I should say, was rather rhetorical, hence for Jenny it was all the same.
"Here, now you are a beauty. Oh, blonds have all the luck. Two such men court you. Oh, what a difficult choice you have. One is better than another. Sir William is such a bonny and how courageous and clever Sir Edward is..."
Now she was in a very mood of talking out but alas her lady interrupted her.
"Jenny, I beg you, please, be silent..."
"Oh, how boring you are... Now 'tis all."
"Tell I am coming..."
Jenny went out humming some merry song. The lady sat silent and yet when a girl is silent it is even more serious. Now inside her it was a real volcano of feelings, thoughts and voices. She loved but loved the wrong man for her and then she was engaged to another one. She was like a mass of contradictions, was breaking between her passion and duty. All people said just contrary things and she like Hamlet didn't knew what to think, what to do. No, she mustn't have started this liaison at all. No, it should be finished. This affair will hardly ever give her true happiness... And yet there is no one else like Dellis who could understand her, so easily and unconstrainedly become related with her soul. No, it was her duty. She must calm down and go downstairs. She looked at one of the shelves in her book case. There were a volume of Molière's comedies, "Manon", "Candid", "Pride and prejudice", "New Eloise", "Gulliver", "Werther", "Clarisse", "L'Ingénu", "Atala", Shakespeare's comedies and tragedies, one more love story, one more moral story and one more satire against imperfect society. No, she should be noble by her heart and would refuse this senseless feeling.
"I must go," she said to herself and went out of the room.
Guests' waiting was justified. When the hero of the occasion came in at last, everybody left their talking and business. She was dressed in a white gown of the hue just like her own skin. Then it was valued greatly. Women on purpose powdered their entire bodies and resorted to other terrible methods for the sake of this fashion. You, my dear reader, might guess how they envied Rosie's natural complexion. Around her wonderful dress of soft airy texture twined golden leafy ornaments. One part of her beautiful hair was arranged upwards, another in goldilocks flowed down her back. Her head was decorated with a ferronniere with a diamante which was shaped like a thin laurel wreath. The look was accomplished with gold leafy diamante jewels on wrist, breast, in ears and hair. She was like an Olympic goddess. Everyone couldn't tear their eyes from her but most of all the fiancé Sir William. A very handsome youth with brown hair, large beautiful light eyes and a girlishly gentle face came up to her, kissed her hand and took her by the arm. She was fair and with it a bit sad. The male half of the society called her Venus pudica.
Rosie was like in a dream. Voices, numerous praises, words just echoed in her ears and were not heard. At dinner food could hardly find its way down her throat. She looked at the people, at this faces, that seemed to have just one kind of expression, one theme for conversations and just single way to act. They were so alike. She was as if in a theatre and around her were only masks, not real people. Their laughs were ringing in her mind. She couldn't bear it. She needed to hide somewhere, to go away from them. When the dances began she tried to do it at the earliest convenience. But she was stopped and the delusion was gone. Before her stood Patricia Fitzroy, reminder, it is Sir William's sister. Her brother was one of the handsomest men in England whereas she herself was a real heron. Tall, thin, she was looking at Rosie with tiny eyes and grinned with an enormous mouth.
"Oh, Miss Rosamund, it is so nice to meet you! Dear Rosie, now may I call you so? I implore you please sit here down with me. I want to talk with you, talk and talk."
No, it wasn't a bad dream. Much worse, now it was a prosaic and the most real reality (and most irritating too). Rosie agreed to befall into the power of this dragon and the last one dug her hands into her shoulders and began working with her mighty jaws. As scientists say the tongue is the most advanced muscle in the human body. First she chattered about the fashion, couldn't leave Rosie's dress in peace. Then she expressed her great wish to become her closest relative, sooner the better, after it various gossips. Rosamund gained all her heroic force of will, all her diplomatic art and was bearing this trial with honour. She turned on the hedgehog and was more imperturbable than ever. Here Miss Pat asked her a question: "Have you already read "Udolfo"?" Rosie with the most common tone quickly answered: "Yes", though so superficially that remembered only the name of this book.
"Well? How do you like it? Is it not magnificent?"
"The capital book for such capital lovely ladies as you. You know, while reading it, I thought only about your high genius."
Miss Pat loved being flattered ergo didn't hear any irony in these words. She continued.
"You know, I can recommend you some other good books."
"You are very kind, thank you, but I am afraid that after marriage I would not have much time for reading."
"That is no problem. I may come to your room in the evenings. Only imagine, dark rainy nights, we are sitting near a fireplace and I retail you stories. People say I am a good speaker."
"Oh, yes..." To herself: "Oh, it will be a nightmare. This should be stopped till it is too late." "Only I think your brother might want me somewhere else at that time."
"Why, do not robbers, haunted castles, bloody mysteries, terrible monsters deserve a little room in your dreams?"
"And do they?"
"Oh, haven't you ever dreamt to be kidnapped by some awful villain?"
"You know, maybe you will consider my answer a bit funny, boring and horribly unpoetical but you really should have asked someone else, not me. I am more of a stay-at-home type. To all these adventures and sensations I would rather prefer to sit quietly near a fireplace, sleep calmly in my soft white bed and be surrounded by nothing else but the love and care of my parents or husband. I am a lady and was brought up in our most favourable gentle society. Perhaps after it I would not be so happy to meet with some outlaw, highwayman or someone else like it."
"Did you not wish to be saved by some valiant knight?"
"First I would take a receipt from this knight to appear in the right place at the right time."
"Imagine that you are locked inside some ancient dark castle."
"In this cold, damp place, where nobody has ever cleaned up, and what is more, with rats, mice, spiders and other unpleasant fauna? Please, it is useless. You really have found the most ridiculously unsuitable heroine of such stories. It may sound unbearably but I am myself grey, boring and dull, all my life was and will be the same boring and dull. My future is uninterestingly clear and there is absolutely no room for unbelievable adventures. Forgive me and thank you."
Rosamund stood up and left "her sister". The last one followed her with her eyes or rather with all her head cutting the air with a long and sharp as stiletto nose. "What an unamiable young person," thought she.
"What a flat, common, silly, narrow-minded person she is," thought Rosie. "And yet undeniably even she is better than me. She at least knows for sure what she wants from this life. To put on the most expensive muslins and silks in the world and be taken away by some hairy monkey, with whom she would discuss strange things and looks their neighbours have all around."
She went in a quiet room, now she is alone at last. Rosie came up to the window and began seeking something in the darkness of a night. Her thoughts were far away from here. All these dancing, cards, twaddle tired her out. A great wish seized her to find a little bit of piece in this noisy city. And yet she was too much used to this vanity and couldn't exist without it. Even on the desert island she all the same would fuss. Only now the girl wanted to feel this short imaginary silence.
But someone very gently put a hand on her shoulder as if she could go to pieces any moment. She turned. It was her fiancé looking at her with all tenderness of his sweet eyes.
"Have you got tired from all these people?"
She lowered her head and was silent.
"To tell you the truth, me too. Terribly, awfully, dreadfully..."
This confession made a smile appear on her face, which lit him up too.
"At last we are alone. Really all this ceremonies and receptions are like some foolish comedy, where the laughingstocks are true human feelings."
"Really..."
"And yet I am so glad about this occasion. The only thing that can make me even happier is the happening of it sooner than soon. Are you happy too, my dear?"
"Yes but I am just too tired now."
"How lovely it is to be here with you, love you and be so fortunate to be loved by you. I wonder, did those poets writing their love poems know beforehand of us? I want this moment to be stopped forever. We are near this window and I am admiring you like the shining star. What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing."
"Please do not mind my family as my most important aim to make you happy. You are free. Your opinion is a law to me. I shall not stand in your way if you want to realise yourself. Remember, taking me you take a loyal friend for the rest of your life. Should you need help or support, you may always rely on me."
She looked at him. Sir William so young, handsome and rich was a dream of each girl he had ever met, except of his own fiancée. But unlike others she saw in him a really good and honest man. To him she could easily trust her fate. He surely would be a faithful husband and a worthy father. His only problem was that he didn't exactly understand her and let himself build castles too high in the air. It was a crime against all sorts of humanity to cause pain to this inexperienced soul. She could have only wished not to have in her own soul the void for him. But he was so kind and pure that she definitely would learn to love him as much as he deserved it.
"I could have only wished to get such friend," she answered to him.
He kissed her hand.
"You look pale. Would you like to stay alone?"
"I am always such. But please, would you mind it?"
As the most obedient one he bowed to her and left. Yes, he was a very good man and it is just a lucky ticket to get such husband. But what's about Dellis? How to be with him?
She went to the door and just opening it a little bit she saw a group of young women behind it that gathered in one place on the sofa and stools talking to each other.
"Have you seen how our Fitzroy danced with this pale fright?"
""Our Fitzroy." How I like it," thought Rosie.
"He was looking only at her."
"And she herself looked as if there is nothing to do for her here and would swoon any moment."
"I wonder what he has found in her. It always seems that nobody is worthy to be beside her."
"Have you not seen how badly and pale she looks?"
"She always looks so. She does not know that rouge was invented long ago."
"Yes, but have you not noticed that she really looked like a sick one?"
"Really. And there is always something not normal in her eyes."
"And she talks strangely too." this said no one else but Patricia Fitzroy.
"I bet Fitzroy is marring her only out of pity to the diseased one. Otherwise she could not get such a fiancé."
"This only raises his price and lowers hers."
"Shame on you! Rosamund Vernon is beautiful, clever, spiritual and the best friend you can ever find!" These were the words of Elisa. She and Rosie were taught together and actually were friends. Rosie sincerely wished her great happiness.
"Rosamund Vernon is just an owl who needs to get into her hollow and never come out. For her all people's virtues are unbearable like sunlight. For everything she feels only indifference and nonchalance. She is incapable to some definite feelings at all and be something else but nasty and rotten. No, she has no other illness but her own callousness."
"But what do you know about me! You are nasty, heartless, mean beasts! No, you are worse. You are people!" cried to herself affected and offended Rosie.
She again came up to the window. It was very difficult to affect her and she had never really bothered about people's opinion. But if you could actually injure her, you injured her really hard. "You malicious cruel people," she said to herself. Tears ran her cheeks. She stood leaning against the wall. Suddenly somebody put a hand upon her shoulder once again. She looked. It was Jenny.
"He is awaiting you," said the friendly voice.
Her tears stopped flowing, her heart leapt and she herself started.
"In the park near your tree."
"My cloak!" she exclaimed not with her voice
"Yes, my lady!" with a broad smile answered the maid.
Jenny made her way to perform the order, Rosie went to the hall and came up to her parents and asked the permission to go away to her room and rest. Both of them noticed that she was too excited for the tired one but her mother all the same let her to withdraw. Lord Vernon pardoned himself before his wife and went too.
Rosie instead of her room headed to the backdoor, where Jenny waited her with a cloak. She never had flown to meet her beloved one in such way as then.