[ Throughout the dizzying amount of chatter at the table, Mary has found herself focusing almost completely on Mr. Cartwright and Miss Darcy. So much so that when her father's voice becomes louder in order to be heard it's like a drench of cold water on her face in the morning. She comes to her senses and realizes that she is greatly concerned at Miss Darcy's interest in her friend. For that is what he is to her, is he not? Mary has had precious few friends in her life and most times it seems more out of obligation than because anyone truly wished to be in her confidence or give theirs to her. But she can genuinely say that Mr. Cartwright is no longer merely her father's friend; he is hers as well. And perhaps - she thinks to herself in a moment of clarity - she is loathe to let him go because a married man and a single woman cannot be friends. As he has shown no interest in married life he cannot be in a rush to achieve such a thing.
Her gaze moves from her father back towards Mr. Cartwright where it lingers on his smile and the way something seems to hide behind it. By now she notes the way he deflects certain questions like an expert fencer and yet he still manages to answer, albeit in a way that invites no further inquiries. ]
Oh, yes indeed. The number far exceeds the bookshelves in your cottage and they occupy every table and space on the floor.
[ There is no sense in denying that she's seen the inside of his cottage; not with the way her mother carried on about the incident, and for anyone unaware of it, they can assume Mary has made a chaperoned call to his cottage before. Miss Darcy looks torn between being impressed at Mr. Cartwright's collection and a bit jealous at Miss Bennet's having seen it. From all accounts Miss Bennet is a great reader and would have taken close notice at his collection. ]
But I do believe- [ Mary continues, feeling the need to give voice to the thoughts in her head. Across the table Kitty exchanges a look with Elizabeth. It is not mean spirited, but rather begrudging, as both recall Mary starting her sentences with just such a phrase before she went on for rather far too long. ] -that you are the kind of man who wishes to see things with your own eyes and hear with your own ears. You have no need to read Stirling's travelogues, for you travel yourself. And who could sit and read another's words on a sight when you have lived it yourself?
[ Her head tilts slightly and brows lift in question at him. She's admired how he can always pick up and go as he pleases to see what's out there, even if she doesn't think she could ever travel further than London and she wouldn't care much for the city if she were there. ]
no subject
Her gaze moves from her father back towards Mr. Cartwright where it lingers on his smile and the way something seems to hide behind it. By now she notes the way he deflects certain questions like an expert fencer and yet he still manages to answer, albeit in a way that invites no further inquiries. ]
Oh, yes indeed. The number far exceeds the bookshelves in your cottage and they occupy every table and space on the floor.
[ There is no sense in denying that she's seen the inside of his cottage; not with the way her mother carried on about the incident, and for anyone unaware of it, they can assume Mary has made a chaperoned call to his cottage before. Miss Darcy looks torn between being impressed at Mr. Cartwright's collection and a bit jealous at Miss Bennet's having seen it. From all accounts Miss Bennet is a great reader and would have taken close notice at his collection. ]
But I do believe- [ Mary continues, feeling the need to give voice to the thoughts in her head. Across the table Kitty exchanges a look with Elizabeth. It is not mean spirited, but rather begrudging, as both recall Mary starting her sentences with just such a phrase before she went on for rather far too long. ] -that you are the kind of man who wishes to see things with your own eyes and hear with your own ears. You have no need to read Stirling's travelogues, for you travel yourself. And who could sit and read another's words on a sight when you have lived it yourself?
[ Her head tilts slightly and brows lift in question at him. She's admired how he can always pick up and go as he pleases to see what's out there, even if she doesn't think she could ever travel further than London and she wouldn't care much for the city if she were there. ]