Pemberley Shades. D. A.Bonavia-Hunt

girls, they must be so much older than Richard that there can never be any question of his marrying one of them. Lastly—but I think that is all.”

      “While you are about it, let there be no reservations of any kind.”

      “I assure you I have not the least idea of anything further.”

      “As I see by your expression that you have a fit of modesty, shall I say it for you? She must regard you as perfection in everything—mind, manners and person.”

      Elizabeth burst out laughing. “Then you must banish the Miss Robinsons from Derbyshire, otherwise they would most certainly infect others with their strong disapprobation of the present mistress of Pemberley.”

      “I have never met your like for exaggeration, Elizabeth,” said her husband.

      “Whoever heeds the truth when it goes unembellished? On second thoughts, my love, I would prefer the new rector to be a confirmed bachelor. Such is my experience of Parsonage ladies, that I would rather have no more of them.”

      This conversation, though it may have afforded the Darcys some amusement, did not materially hasten the course of events. Owing to the perversity so often observable in human affairs, there was not at the death of Dr. Robinson any clergyman among Darcy’s acquaintance to whom he cared to offer the living. Applications and recommendations there were in plenty, but none that he would entertain. And as the weeks hastened from March into April and towards May, the two Miss Robinsons, however irrationally, began to feel once more secure of the continued enjoyment of the home of their youth, and resumed that spring-cleaning of its apartments which the death of a parent had interrupted.

      Darcy was first made aware of what was passing in their minds when one day the elder Miss Robinson, speaking with customary abruptness, asked him whether he had not noticed that the dining-parlour needed fresh papering. The spring sunshine and the clean curtains made the walls look absolutely faded, she complained. She had asked Mr. Groves, the Pemberley steward, to call and take her instructions, but he had never come.

      “I am sorry to be obliged to speak ill of Mr. Groves, but he is not at all so attentive as he should be. I hope he is not so neglectful of your business, Mr. Darcy.”

      Darcy was so amazed that he hardly knew what to reply. After a moment’s thought he observed that Mr. Groves probably thought it advisable to wait until the new rector had arrived in order that he might ascertain his wishes in the matter.

      “He has no right to think anything of the sort,” declared Miss Robinson, growing red with anger. “It is, besides, no excuse for his incivility. He never so much as answered my note.”

      “That indeed was wrong,” said Darcy calmly. “He should have sent an acknowledgment. But he has much business to attend to, and he may have been waiting for an opportunity of consulting me.”

      “And, pray, why should he consult you? Has not he always taken my instructions in the past?’

      “I am sorry to cause you any distress,” Darcy replied, concealing some pardonable heat, “but if you reflect, you will see that he might justly consider he could do so no longer.”

      But Miss Robinson showed not the least disposition to reflect, or to do anything but grow more irritated, and Darcy could only hope that a seed of reason had been sown in the lady’s mind, and would survive and grow. He had assumed that after their father’s death she and her sister would shortly begin house-hunting; but enquiries now made of Mr. Groves disclosed that on his bringing a very eligible vacant residence to her notice, Miss Robinson had declined resolutely to view it. A second and even a third instance of this behaviour put it beyond doubt that the Miss Robinsons had been able to persuade themselves that they could continue to reside at the Parsonage as long as either of them should live.

      Unhappily for the success of their design, Mr. Darcy was a match for the Miss Robinsons in obstinacy. That he had right and law on his side was something, but not everything; for it was unthinkable that he should have them forcibly ejected. Short of that, he resolved never to rest until the vexatious females were safely deposited under another roof. As soon as the next house within the Pemberley estates suitable to their degree and means became vacant, he resolved to offer it to them rent-free, on condition that they removed to it at once.

      “What do you mean by a suitable house?” asked Elizabeth to whom he communicated his intention. “I am sure they would never consider anything less grand than the Parsonage.”

      “That is absurd,” he replied. “It is almost a mansion.”

      “But they are absurd.”

      “They must be made to see reason.”

      “I should congratulate you or anyone else on so conspicuous an achievement. Did you know,” she asked after a short pause, “that Mrs. Chichester is shortly to leave Yew Tree Cottage? I met her today in the village. She has received intelligence of her husband’s return from abroad, and as he is now stationed at Portsmouth, he is urgent that she should join him without delay. He had advised Mr. Groves by the same post, she said.”

      “I have not seen Groves these three days,” he answered, “and it is news so far as I am concerned. Yew Tree Cottage is very well, but I should have preferred a situation farther removed,” he added seriously. “There cannot be any necessity for them to remain in the village. At Stowell or Kympton, or even at Lambton, they would be within driving distance of their acquaintance.”

      “But not within bullying distance,” said Elizabeth. “Have you no concern for the morals of the villagers? What would become of them if Miss Robinson ceased to supervise them?”

      Within a week Mrs. Chichester had quitted Pemberley and Yew Tree Cottage stood empty. Riding home from Kympton a day or two later, Darcy checked his horse beside the gate and surveyed it for some minutes. It lay charmingly secluded among trees without being solitary, for it was not far from the village street, and the garden, neither very trim nor too much neglected, was at this time full of spring flowers. Anyone with a taste for the picturesque would admire it exceedingly; but that was not the question to be debated. What would Miss Robinson say to it? He resolved to obtain a direct answer without delay, and rode on through the village to the Parsonage.

      The church and Parsonage stood apart from the village and almost opposite to the entrance to the Park. The Parsonage was a substantial house built of stone, and set well back in grounds planted with a variety of trees and shrubs; it had an air of importance and was plainly a gentleman’s residence. An elderly manservant admitted Darcy, and on his enquiring for the mistresses, led him at once to the dining-parlour where the two Miss Robinsons, dressed in deepest black, sat on either side of a great fire.

      Darcy sat down between them, declined offers of refreshment and enquired with his usual grave civility after their health. These formalities over, while he sought a suitable opening for his proposal, Miss Robinson asked abruptly, “And when are we to have the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Darcy again?”

      “But, sister,” interposed Miss Sophia, “do not you remember that Mrs. Darcy called here last Monday?”

      “True, she did call here last Monday. But I am sure she did not stay above five minutes, for no sooner was she in than she was out again. I do not consider that a visit.”

      Miss Robinson’s habit of censoriousness had so grown upon her as the result of long indulgence that it was frequently unintentional. One could never be certain whether she intended offence or was conscious of giving it. Darcy knew this, but was nevertheless so angered by her manner of speaking of Elizabeth that he would not disguise his displeasure. He replied stiffly that Mrs. Darcy had been occupied with a hundred and one concerns. The little boy had been ill, and for some days they had feared the onset of an infectious fever. Then before the ladies could make any observations he commenced at once upon the business he had come about.

      “You have doubtless heard that Mrs. Chichester has gone from Yew Tree Cottage.”

      “Dear me, yes,” replied Miss Robinson. “That is no news to us. There are some who quite bemoan Mrs. Chichester quitting the neighbourhood,