[ Mary shifts her attention to this new topic of conversation and has to admit to herself that Mr. Cartwright has paid more attention to Kitty's skill than Mary herself. In the Bennet household everything had felt like a competition against her sisters. They were all beautiful and lively, though Jane a little less lively than the other three. Mary never saw herself as with them, but against them; vying for attention. And yet, she feels now that perhaps she and Kitty were the two most ignored of the group. Jane was the oldest and most beautiful, Elizabeth was naturally witty and charming, and Lydia was loud and demanded notice. Mary was plain, moralized at every occasion, and had nothing more to recommend her than playing the pianoforte. Kitty was pretty, but pushed into Lydia's shadow with only officers and lace to fill her head. They had both been neglected and now they are both grown women, trying to find space for themselves in the world. And Kitty has found hers up in the north.
It shouldn't be hard for Mary to accept herself as she is. For a long time she's known that she would never be the object of a man's affections and if any asked for her hand it would be out of simple practicality. She has prepared for that. But as Kitty thanks Mr. Cartwright and goes on to tell a story about how her Mr. Hamilton first noticed her lace because it got caught on his cuff link and they were temporarily stuck together, Mary examines the look on her sister's face. Kitty has matured, and instead of the giddy girl practically bouncing off the walls as she dreamed of officers, her expression is that of a woman in love. And Mary briefly wonders what it would feel like to be in love. It must be like warmth coursing through the body with a heart beating rapidly against the rib cage. It must feel like butterflies in the stomach. It must feel like the cold shock of ice against the skin when seeing the one you love talking to someone else and feelings of jealousy arise. And as each of these thoughts come to her, they're accompanied by a memory of when Mr. Cartwright made her feel just such a way.
As if on cue, her heart beats against her rib cage as her eyes slowly lift to look at him. Clarity has taken far, far too long to come to her, but it's here now. The way he makes her feel is unlike anyone else. His praise, his attention, his honesty and integrity are unlike anyone else's behavior towards her. No one else would have ever come to her rescue at Christmas after Lydia's harsh words. No one else would seek her out in a crowded room and wish to speak to her. There is no one else she would rather give her heart to, even knowing the painful reality that such affections as hers will never be returned. He will never want a wife. But she can make peace with that. Right now, this is enough.
"And when all was said and done I truly didn't mind. It motivated me to improve my technique and make an even better trim to replace it." Kitty finishes her story about her betrothed accidentally stretching her lace sleeve trim and turns to Mary to address her. But whatever she might have said is lost as she sees her sister's expression and quickly says, "Mary! Are you unwell?"
Immediately Mr. Hickinbottom - who was thoroughly examining the texture of a scone so he didn't have to listen to talk of lace - sits upright and gives all his attention to Mary, saying her name with great concern. By now she's teared her gaze away from Mr. Cartwright to briefly look at her sister and that dislodges the tear she hadn't realized had gathered in the corner of her eye. Quickly, she ducks her head and turns in her chair to hide her face from the party. ]
No, no; quite well. I believe I have something in my eye. An eyelash perhaps.
[ Shooting out of his chair, Mr. Hickinbottom is rounding the table to her side to aid her.
"I will help you remove it, Miss Bennet. Leave it to me." ]
Pray, do not trouble yourself!
[ Mary says it in a panic, wanting the overly eager man to leave her alone. Instead she stands and moves past him, muttering about finding a mirror in her room. He is becoming quite too much. Never before has she wished so much to not be noticed. ]
no subject
It shouldn't be hard for Mary to accept herself as she is. For a long time she's known that she would never be the object of a man's affections and if any asked for her hand it would be out of simple practicality. She has prepared for that. But as Kitty thanks Mr. Cartwright and goes on to tell a story about how her Mr. Hamilton first noticed her lace because it got caught on his cuff link and they were temporarily stuck together, Mary examines the look on her sister's face. Kitty has matured, and instead of the giddy girl practically bouncing off the walls as she dreamed of officers, her expression is that of a woman in love. And Mary briefly wonders what it would feel like to be in love. It must be like warmth coursing through the body with a heart beating rapidly against the rib cage. It must feel like butterflies in the stomach. It must feel like the cold shock of ice against the skin when seeing the one you love talking to someone else and feelings of jealousy arise. And as each of these thoughts come to her, they're accompanied by a memory of when Mr. Cartwright made her feel just such a way.
As if on cue, her heart beats against her rib cage as her eyes slowly lift to look at him. Clarity has taken far, far too long to come to her, but it's here now. The way he makes her feel is unlike anyone else. His praise, his attention, his honesty and integrity are unlike anyone else's behavior towards her. No one else would have ever come to her rescue at Christmas after Lydia's harsh words. No one else would seek her out in a crowded room and wish to speak to her. There is no one else she would rather give her heart to, even knowing the painful reality that such affections as hers will never be returned. He will never want a wife. But she can make peace with that. Right now, this is enough.
"And when all was said and done I truly didn't mind. It motivated me to improve my technique and make an even better trim to replace it." Kitty finishes her story about her betrothed accidentally stretching her lace sleeve trim and turns to Mary to address her. But whatever she might have said is lost as she sees her sister's expression and quickly says, "Mary! Are you unwell?"
Immediately Mr. Hickinbottom - who was thoroughly examining the texture of a scone so he didn't have to listen to talk of lace - sits upright and gives all his attention to Mary, saying her name with great concern. By now she's teared her gaze away from Mr. Cartwright to briefly look at her sister and that dislodges the tear she hadn't realized had gathered in the corner of her eye. Quickly, she ducks her head and turns in her chair to hide her face from the party. ]
No, no; quite well. I believe I have something in my eye. An eyelash perhaps.
[ Shooting out of his chair, Mr. Hickinbottom is rounding the table to her side to aid her.
"I will help you remove it, Miss Bennet. Leave it to me." ]
Pray, do not trouble yourself!
[ Mary says it in a panic, wanting the overly eager man to leave her alone. Instead she stands and moves past him, muttering about finding a mirror in her room. He is becoming quite too much. Never before has she wished so much to not be noticed. ]