Posted on: 2011-01-02

Character List (You will need this later)

Elinor and Edward's kids
Jonathon - 13
Mary - 12
Lillian (Lilly) - 8
Joseph - 6

Marianne and Brandon
Elizabeth (Eliza) - 13
Timothy - 10

Robert and Lucy
Rachel - 13
Emma - 11
Michael - 10
Catherine - 8

Margaret and Daniel
Alice - 11

Explanations:
Elinor and Edward: got a better position at Garwell Abbey.
Jonathon: grew out of his heart condition, strong.
Mary: has a hard time hearing
Lilly: can't speak
Joseph: is sickly; needs a crutch to walk
Marianne and Brandon: had several miscarriages before Brandon got too old to have kids.
Eliza: has a temper
Timothy: only flares Eliza's temper more
Robert and Lucy: are rich. Robert is in Parliament. Lucy and Emma died of pneumonia two years ago. Robert only kept the kids because of Lucy, so the remaining children go to live with Anne.
Rachel: feels in charge of her siblings, mourning in secret.
Emma: is dead.
Michael: withdrawn and sometimes mean.
Catherine: misses her mother, father and Emma and hates Michael.
John and Fanny: Fanny dies of pneumonia. Also, they had Mark (now 13). John marries Anne (I know that sounds weird, but they both needed help taking care of kids) Anne brings Lucy's kids, and John brings Henry, who is now 17. They have no other kids.
Willoughby and Miss Grey: Too far out for me to care about.
Palmers and Middletons: Again, too far out for me to care.
Mrs. Ferrars, Mrs. Jennings, and Mrs. Dashwood: are dead.
Margaret and Daniel Clease: Daniel was riding his horse to see a sick relative who lives right next to Margaret. He sees Margaret walking, isn't quite looking where he's going, and gets knocked off his horse by a branch and breaks his arm. Margaret takes him in and then Daniel realizes that his sick relative lives right next door. He goes to stay at Barton Park and is liked by the Middletons, starts to like Margaret, they get married. He is a middle-class lawyer who lives in London. He wishes he was a landlord.
Alice: is the only child of the Cleases. She's quiet and reads Gothic novels.
Brandon's ward: is in Scotland with her army officer husband, Captain Pernt (she's related to Colonel Brandon, that's the main reason they married), 13 year old daughter Jane, and 10 year old son Lewis. They live in Scotland because England didn't like the whole premarital kid thing.

Chapter One

Mrs. Elinor Ferrars was in the kitchen, thinking about her son while she cooked the day's dinner. Jonathon was to be home by Michaelmas, and stay for the week. September 3rd was the date now. September 29th was a long way off, but so it must be. The bird that had been half-eaten from yesterday was getting a warming to eat tonight along with fresh beans. Tasting the beans; no, a little while longer.

Lilly came through the door. Mrs. Ferrars could tell it was Lilly even before she turned to see her.

"What is it, daughter?" Mrs. Ferrars asked, turning to face the child.

"A letter for you," signed Lilly. Lilly and Mary, you must know, use sign language to communicate, as they cannot speak.

"From whom?" asked the mother. Lilly just handed her the letter and stood by her side to watch her examine the handwriting and find it to be someone's.

"Your Aunt Brandon," Mrs. Ferrars said, giving her sister's title according to the children. Mrs. Ferrars then took upon herself the task of finding the letter opener. This task took her a considerable amount of time, as finding anything will. Once she found it, an exclamation of thanks to the Lord was said, and she opened the letter. If Mrs. Ferrars was paying attention to Lilly, she might know why about a quarter of the beans were missing and why the fire was put out for them.

"My dear sister," Mrs. Ferrars read the letter aloud to her daughter. "The most wonderful news has reached me! The parsonage here at Delaford has been opened again. Do not ask how the next event happened, for I hardly know myself. The pay has gone up a considerable amount. I do not know if 500 pounds a year exceeds your current income, but that's what the pay currently is. The cottage is not quite how you left it, but there is no damage that has not been properly fixed. If you accept, you should contact us immediately. And sister, I do not mean to put pressure on you, for after all, you have been away long enough to feel attached to your current place, but I would be so grateful if you should live by me again! Children, as you know, are quite trying sometimes, and you know me well enough to make me want to not resent them. Signed, Marianne Brandon"

"Trying?" signed Lilly. "Children are trying?"

"Fighting children are trying," replied her mother. "And you have heard enough of Eliza and Timothy to know why your poor aunt may resent them. Oh, what news we shall have for your father when he gets home!" Mr. Edward Ferrars had been out that day administering the anointing of the sick. Whistling was heard, and Lilly went away to follow it.

The whistling came from Joseph, in the next room over. He was creating some sort of bird out of wood. Though a young, crippled child he was, he showed an exceptional talent for wood carving. This might in part be due to the neighbor of the Ferrars, Mr. Carrington, who is a carpenter by profession and enjoys teaching little Joseph his trade.

"Lilly!" Joseph greeted his sister. "How do you like my bird?" The child's voice, though at full force just then, for he was most excited about his bird, was about at a normal talking level for most people. Joseph was known to talk in whispers when not excited.

"Is it finished?" signed Lilly.

"No," came the whispered reply. "Not yet. I only have the head. How do you like that?"

"Fine," signed Lilly. "It is a very fine bird head. Are you making a sparrow? It looks like a sparrow."

"Yes," Joseph said, his whole face smiling knowing that someone thought his work lifelike. Mary bounded in the room. Though older than the two others in the room, she was often classified as the most silly.

"I am going to watch for father," signed Mary.

"We will join you," Lilly signed back. She picked up Joseph, who was very lightweight indeed, and brought herself and him to the window. The window faced the west, where the sun was setting. It also faced the front of the house, where Mr. Ferrars was expected to come. The children sat in silence for about twenty minutes, each thinking his or her own thoughts. It was then that Mr. Ferrars was spotted and Joseph yelled with all his voice, "Father!" This was heard by Mrs. Ferrars, who went to the door to greet her husband.

Mr. Ferrars opened the door, and picked up the first person to the door, who you remember was Mrs. Ferrars, and swung her around, as was his custom. The man was used to his daughters running to the door, but his wife was a happy alternative. The two embraced, and then Mr. Ferrars went on to hug his son and daughters.

"My little dears! How has your day been?" he asked. This comment was responded by a flurry of hand gestures and Joseph's exclamations. Mr. Ferrars did not truly comprehend any of what was being said, and he never expected to. He simply nodded and smiled while hanging up his hat and coat and then Mrs. Ferrars led him to the kitchen. She picked up the letter she had received earlier.

"This letter needs to be read by you," she told him as she handed him the letter. He nodded and read it in silence. Some explanation was given to Mary and Joseph about who the letter was from and what it said by Mrs. Ferrars. Mr. Ferrars looked serious as he put the letter down.

"I see," he said. "I shall think about it." Mrs. Ferrars put the beans and bird on the table and commented that there were less beans than she thought. Lilly said that she had eaten a few while her mother looked for the letter opener. Mr. Ferrars knew to what extent "a few" meant, and he purposefully gave Lilly fewer beans than the rest of them.

The dinner passed quite nicely, and the rest of the evening with it. The children had been put in bed for the night, and Mr. and Mrs. Ferrars were in their shared bedchamber, getting ready to retire themselves. It was then that the subject of the letter was brought up by Mrs. Ferrars.

"What do you think we should do regarding Delaford? The pay most certainly exceeds our income, but the children are so attached to this place, especially little Joseph," she told her husband. He looked at the wall seriously for a minute before answering.

"I ought to write to Colonel Brandon directly," he said, "and get things straightened out. I wish to know some particulars about how the space was made available and how we would be accommodated; all 6 of us, when Jonathon is home, for I remember it being a small cottage. Moving is quite an ordeal, you know, and I want to make sure we make the right decision."

"And the children," added the lady, "The children don't wish to move, I can be almost completely assured of that. They have lived here all their lives, and have seen not so much of Delaford that they can remember, and never the parsonage. And think of our youngest Joseph. With his condition, a move might be distressing for him, and the more he is distressed, the more ill he shall become until he" Mrs. Ferrars could say no more without crying. Her husband came to her side to console her.

"Joseph is doing very well indeed. This is a strong family, my love. Remember when our now thirteen year old Jonathon was an infant and the physicians gave him but a week to live? Now, he is a strong schoolboy. Our young Joseph, whether he should become stronger or stay in his present state, should live a very long life." Mrs. Ferrars dried her tears and nodded.

"So you shall take the living at Delaford?" she asked. Mr. Ferrars sighed.

"Trying to find a good pay in the church is like trying to find water in the desert," said he, "We must take what we can, and take it fast. Yes, I should like to take the living at Delaford."

Chapter Two

Colonel Brandon was written to the next morning by Mr. Ferrars. It was before anyone else in the house was awake that the letter was sent to the post. Mr. Ferrars had been hardly able to sleep at all. He had much on his mind.

First, his current parishioners, and the master of the village of Garwell Abbey, in Somersetshire. They must be notified of the move. Perhaps in this week's sermon. Yet some of them would be exceedingly sad to see him go, as he would be for them. He must keep in contact with the oldest and youngest ones that were fond of him. This included an elderly Mrs. Jakes, a Mr. and Mrs. Prass that had recently had a child christened, a family of eight that Mr. Ferrars could not keep the names straight of, and of course Mr. Carrington. Oh, how Mr. Carrington would miss Joseph.

This brought him to think of Joseph and what his wife said the night before. Would he die? The very thought made Mr. Ferrars wince. Joseph was such a good soul, never asked too much of anyone, and always forgave the elder boys that made fun of his crutch. A move wouldn't be too much, would it? Despite what he had said to console his wife, he knew Joseph was not made to last. Yet Delaford was a place he knew, even if vaguely. That would be better than a place completely strange and new.

Then Mr. Ferrars thought about when the move should take place. In the letter, he had said directly after Michaelmas, if his "particulars" were answered to his satisfaction. Jonathon would be a great help with the move. However, he wished to celebrate Michaelmas and not be moving during that time.

His mind was still clouded with these thoughts and others when Mary came down the stairs. She was often the first of the family awake, for she went to bed the earliest. To see her father at the table without any breakfast was a shock to her. So, she decided to make him some.

Into the cupboard she went, looking for bread. A nice plate of breakfast rolls was found, so she took that out and placed it on the table. Her father was still staring out the window, unaware of his daughter's presence. Mary decided to get some butter, too, and a knife. These were placed on the table, and Mr. Ferrars did not notice.

He continued not noticing until Mary poked his cheek. He was startled, and finally turned to notice Mary and the breakfast. He smiled faintly at her and picked up a roll.

"You seem worlds away," Mary signed. Her father let out a sigh.

"I have much on my mind," he signed back. (Mary, you must remember, cannot hear.)

"What?" she signed, curious. Mr. Ferrars smirked at her.

"I shall not tell you for the time being," he signed back. As expected, this sent Mary into wild hand movements that only she could understand. Most likely, she was saying something to the effect of "Please? I won't tell a soul!" Mr. Ferrars just smiled. Mary's curiosity was just what he needed to put himself in good spirits.

"OWW!" The cry was heard throughout the Brandon home. "STOP IT!" The cries came from 13 year old Elizabeth, also known as Eliza. "MAMA! TELL TIMOTHY TO STOP PULLING MY HAIR!!" Mrs. Brandon was sitting at the breakfast table across from her husband, both of them waiting for their children to come to breakfast. Mrs. Brandon put her head on the table and hit the table with it a few times. Colonel Brandon laughed.

"So you think this is funny?" his wife asked. He smiled.

"For a reason unknown to me, yes."

"MAMA!!!" Eliza yelled again. Mrs. Brandon got up from the table and walked toward the stairs, shouting,

"TIMOTHY! LEAVE YOUR SISTER ALONE!"

This scene was a typical one, this one happening to take place on September 6th. Colonel Brandon lifted his newspaper to his eyes and pretended not to hear the cries of his children or the scolding of his wife. The problem was, the fight was actually more interesting that the day's news. He endeavored to listen for a small while. Then Ford (one of the many servants at Delaford) came to him with a letter.

"This arrived for you this morning, sir," Ford said. The Colonel smiled as he took the letter. He did not recognize the handwriting, so he opened the letter without knowing who it was from. The content of the letter was thus:

Colonel Brandon,
I am writing to you regarding the parish position. I should like to take it directly after Michaelmas, perhaps October 1st, if the following questions are answered to my satisfaction.
How did the parish become available? Joseph, my youngest, is not in the best of health. If the previous pastor had any sort of life-threatening disease, I should like to keep away for Joseph's sake.
How would six people be accommodated? When Jonathon is home from school, there would be six persons to find a sleeping place for. I remember it being a cottage with only one bedroom.
Finally, how did the pay increase? I would wish to know to insure it would not go down once I take the position.
These are my questions, and I would encourage you to answer them as soon as possible.
Sincerely,
Edward Ferrars

Colonel Brandon, by the time he was finished reading the letter, had been joined by his wife and children, and the cook was bringing out breakfast.

"Who's the letter from, Father?" Timothy asked.

"It appears to be a note rather than a letter," responded Eliza, "It looks very short."

"Well, I have never known Mr. Edward Ferrars to say very much," the Colonel responded.

"Oh! Was the letter regarding the parish position?" Mrs. Brandon inquired. Her husband nodded. "Does he wish to take it?" the lady inquired further. He nodded again and handed her the letter.

"I am sure to be questioned further by you. I would need to read the letter aloud. Read it for yourself." The children got up from their positions at the table and read over Mrs. Brandon's shoulder.

"Pray, do write back," Mrs. Brandon said once she had finished reading, "and answer all his inquiries. I do wish Elinor to live by me again. And all their children are so delightful."

"A change from Timothy, I know," Eliza commented.

"I should think so. They seem so droll," the boy said.

"They do not!"

"Unless you want to get some whippings, eat your breakfast," Colonel Brandon ordered. The army officer had his face in a scowl, which the children knew all too well. They also had known his whippings, which they were not at all delighted with. Mrs. Brandon laughed.

"It is not so funny when you are in the middle of it, is it?" she asked her husband. He smiled.

"I may still laugh from time to time, but I have to agree with you," he responded, "And I ought to write to Mr. Ferrars once breakfast is over. I would not want to delay his requested date of departure."

Chapter Three

Mr. Ferrars was written to, and was told that the former pastor had simply retired for being too old; that there was an extension to the house now that made another bedchamber and a drawing room; and that the Colonel had been able to give more money to the church from other projects being finished.

These were the very answers Mr. Ferrars had wanted. It was all settled between them. The Ferrars would move on October the first to Delaford parsonage.

Mr. Ferrars now had the task of notifying the parishioners and the master of Garwell Abbey, Mr. Plume. He was creating the week's sermon around the family and the home, and the move fit very nicely into it. He was doing this exact task when Lilly approached him.

"Yes, my daughter?" he asked.

"I don't want to move," Lilly signed. "I wish to stay here." Mr. Ferrars sighed. He got up from his chair and went over to hug his daughter.

"I know," he said quietly, "I don't either. But I do wish to have more of an income. Joseph might be made well if we had more money for doctors." Lilly sighed as well.

"You must tell Mr. Plume, correct?" she signed. Mr. Ferrars nodded. "Then let Mother and I tell him for you. I adore their dogs, and Mother enjoys the company of Mrs. Plume." As if told to, Mrs. Ferrars walked in the room. Lilly signed to her, asking if she would like to visit Mr. Plume about the move. Mrs. Ferrars said of course she would.

Mr. and Mrs. Plume are the owners of Garwell Abbey and its surrounding village. They are childless, yet they are never without good spirits. They have plenty of dogs to keep them all the company they need.

Mrs. Ferrars and Lilly set out for the half an hour walk to Garwell Abbey.

"What are we to say?" Lilly signed to her mother. The lady was silent. She knew what they had to say, that being that pay was found to be better somewhere else, but how to say it without causing offence was another challenge.

"What are we to say?" Lilly signed again.

"We are to tell them that my sister has offered us a position, and we have accepted," Mrs. Ferrars said. The Plumes should understand that family is always important and good to live near. With any luck, they may not have to mention payment at all.

Mrs. Ferrars and Lilly soon came upon Garwell Abbey. The place had been built over 100 years ago, and looked very much like a castle. A person just traveling by might think it to hold many stories as those in gothic novels; killings, forbidden love, and all those plot lines.

The Ferrars were brought to see the Plumes in the sitting room.

"Hallo there, Elinor, Lilly, how do you do?" was Mr. Plume's greeting. When the Ferrars had first moved here, the man reminded Mrs. Ferrars of Sir John Middleton. They were both very happy landlords, and they interested in gossip. The only two distinct differences, in fact, were that Mr. Plume did not care for strangers, and he also liked to acquaint himself with a man's true character, rather than just caring what sort of a hunting shot he was.

"We are very well, thank you," Mrs. Ferrars responded, "And yourself?"

"Oh, Elinor, I do very well. I have just finished a most satisfying book. You should borrow it sometime." As Mr. Plume said this, Lilly was going over to a sleeping young mastiff pup at Mrs. Plume's feet. The Plumes used mastiffs to help with the field work. Often, they took the smallest of the litter and kept it in the house as a pet.

"This is Penelope," Mrs. Plume said, patting the dog's head. "Small, she is. Do you like her?" Lilly nodded. No one at Garwell Abbey quite understood sign language outside of the parsonage. Lilly well knew her limitations, and although she was frustrated at times, she managed well.

"I have some particular news I wish to share with you," Mrs. Ferrars said, trying to ease into the topic of the move.

"Who is getting married? Oh, I think it must be Harriet and her new beau. Am I right?" Mr. Plume said. He especially enjoyed gossip of marriage.

"No, no one is getting married," Mrs. Ferrars responded.

"Then what is it? You are not leaving, are you?" Mr. Plume questioned. Lilly turned to face her mother. Yes, in fact, they were leaving. Oh, how strange these moments are!

"Colonel Brandon, you know him, I think?" Mrs. Ferrars said.

"Yes," Mrs. Plume said, "He is your brother in law, is he not? He came by here last year. Is he ill?"

"No, ma'm, very well, in fact. He has offered Mr. Ferrars the church position at Delaford, and he has accepted." No one said anything following this announcement. Mrs. Plume looked at Penelope. Lilly did as well. She wanted to appear busy with the sleeping dog so she would not have to answer any questions, even if with a head nod.

"Oh, I see. Well, I did say so, didn't I? It is strange how I can predict certain events. Just yesterday, I thought that one of the little Whites would come and call, and they did!" Mr. Plume was evidently trying to change the subject. Tenants that left always troubled him. Not only would he lose a friend, he would have to start over with a stranger.

"Were you not at Delaford before you came here?" Mrs. Plume asked.

"Yes," Mrs. Ferrars said, certain that the topic of payment must be coming in the conversation soon.

"Well, this is most peculiar. I wish to tell others this event, but I do not want false reasoning. Pray, besides the Colonel being your brother-in-law, why are you moving back?" Mr. Plume asked. Lilly was looking at the mastiff pup still, but she longed to say something. The Plumes were her friends, and she felt strange trying to avoid saying something. Lilly started to sign to her mother.

"Lilly wishes to say that she is sorry to be blunt, and does not mean to cause any offence, but the pay at Delaford has become greater than here and that could be useful to Joseph," Mrs. Ferrars interpreted. There was a silence.

"I completely understand," Mrs. Plume said, "No offence would ever be taken. We all wish to see little Joseph recover. And the position is nearer to your family, which is always welcome."

"Indeed," Mr. Plume responded, "And if we can help in any way, please let us know."

"Thank you," Mrs. Ferrars said. Even if the Plumes' responses were not as sincere as they appeared, she was grateful to have that over with.

The visit to the Plumes was not much longer after that. The Plumes repeated their promise to help, and Lilly and Mrs. Ferrars started back home again.

"That went well, I think," Lilly signed. Mrs. Ferrars nodded.

The next day was Sunday, September 10th. The Ferrars went to church as they always did. Mr. Ferrars mentioned the move in his sermon, as he had planned. After the service, they were all outside, where parishioners were saying good-bye, even though they were not leaving for the next fortnight or so.

"We will be sorry to see you go," Mr. Prass was saying to the pastor.

"I should miss you as well," Mr. Ferrars said.

"I don't know very many clergymen, Ferrars, but you seem to be a very good one. You always seem to keep your sermons entertaining and yet quite real. Delaford will be very much pleased." Mr. Ferrars thanked him. Lilly and Mary were speaking to the other young girls of the village (The girls of the village understood sign language, for they were often with the young Ferrarses, so it was a necessity).

"I don't want to move," Lilly was signing.

"I think it should be a very exciting experience," Mary signed. One girl, Lucy by name, who was a year or so younger than Mary, spoke up and signed at the same time,

"I agree. I always welcome exciting things. This place is so droll."

"I should miss picking flowers and climbing trees and hiding in the bushes to eat berries before supper with you, Lilly," Patience said. She was another girl of the village, only a few months younger than Lilly, and always a good friend to her. Patience was one of the eight children in the family of which Mr. Ferrars could not keep the names straight. They were the Whites; and indeed one of the children had called upon Mr. Plume yesterday.

Joseph was with the youngest White, George. The two were the same age and good friends, as they both were often with Mr. Carrington in his woodworking shop.

"Mr. Carrington's shop will be awful lonely now," George said.

"I hope Delaford has a carpenter," Joseph replied. "I would like to learn to make a chair." Some boys about Lilly's age came up to Joseph.

"I suppose this is your last hobble around the neighborhood, isn't it, Crutch?" one of them said. The others laughed.

"I will pray for you that there are no boys like these at Delaford," George whispered to Joseph.

"Rather, pray for them. They know not what they do," Joseph whispered. "Jesus prayed for his persecutors, you know." George nodded.

"I will."

Mrs. Ferrars was talking with Mrs. Prass about her baby, Caroline.

"She is eating rather well, I think," Mrs. Prass was saying. "Is 7 feedings a day normal?"

"Yes, I believe. That is what my children would eat at that age," Mrs. Ferrars replied. Other inquiries were asked, and answers were given, as mothers often do.

Mrs. Jakes came up to Mr. Ferrars with the help of her daughter, Emily, who herself was 18. Mrs. Jakes could not see very well, nor walk, so her daughter often had to help her. Emily had been married to a navy officer at 16, but shortly after the marriage there was a war. He was one of those killed while serving his country. Mrs. Jakes' husband had died of natural causes, and Emily was their only living child.

"You should not go," Mrs. Jakes said quietly to Mr. Ferrars, for like Joseph, she had not much energy for speaking.

"Well, I ought to go. More of an income may help Joseph to be seen by the better physicians," he replied. She shook her head.

"Income is your worst enemy, Ferrars." Of course, this puzzled Mr. Ferrars for a moment, but he recovered by saying,

"It is money that brought me here, though."

Mrs. Jakes laughed, though it sounded like more of a wheeze than a laugh. "I suppose, but yet, I have a certain feeling that this move will trouble you."

"Moves always trouble people involved."

"This is true. Perhaps my feeling is nothing more than the ill mind of an old lady."

Chapter Four

Mrs. Margaret Clease was sewing some lace onto one of her gowns when she received a letter notifying her of the move. Mrs. Clease was the younger sister of both Mrs. Ferrars and Mrs. Brandon, so she of course must be written to.

"Well, Alice, we shall be visiting Delaford very soon," Mrs. Clease said to her 11-year-old daughter, who was not far away, seated at the window. The girl had been thoroughly engrossed with her copy of Udolpho (yes the child knew well how to read, and enjoyed novels), and upon hearing her name, looked up with surprise.

"Were you saying something, Mama?"

"Indeed I was. It seems that your aunt, Mrs. Ferrars, and her family, are moving back to Delaford from that place in Somersetshire."

"What do you mean by saying 'back'? Have they not lived in Somersetshire the duration of their marriage?" Mrs. Clease shook her head. The first move the Ferrars made from Delaford to Garwell Abbey had been before Mrs. Clease had ever even known Mr. Clease, let alone giving Alice's birth. So an explanation was given to the girl that the family had lived in Delaford perhaps a year before moving to Somersetshire. Alice nodded.

"But I must wonder, Mama, what does this have to do with me?"

"Whenever a relation moves, Alice, it is politeness to go and visit them to make sure they are settled in. We must do it."

"I do enjoy the country. I hope it shall be much more spacious than London. This apartment is crammed so that one hardly gets alone space at all." She looked out the window and sighed. "I hate society." With that, she returned to her book, and Mrs. Clease saw it very useless to say anything else, and went back to her sewing, after resolving in her mind to tell her husband and fix upon a date.

They did discuss the matter, and the rest of the month passed without many events. The date was set for the Cleases to visit on October 9th.

Mrs. Ferrars now spent her time packing and deciding what she would need and what she could do without at Delaford, and while she did this, she would watch the windows for Jonathon's arrival home from school. This search proved to be fruitless until the 28th of September, when she spotted a carriage. Before I go on, you must understand that most of what is said is signed as well, for Mary's sake.

"Jonathon is coming!" Mrs. Ferrars called to her family, who were scattered about the house. Children and parents scurried outside to greet him. The boy came off the carriage looking as though he were much older and more refined than he was. He was wearing a top hat that made him look quite the gentleman, and his tall stature helped as well.

"It is good to see you all again!" he said, smiling and affectionately hugging his family. He then preceded into the house with them, his father carrying some luggage.

"Did anything exciting happen on your journey?" Lilly signed to her brother.

"Not particularly. It rained, but that is nothing strange now, is it?"

"It would be stranger to have a sunny day, I should think," Mr. Ferrars said. Jonathon smiled. It felt good to be home again. He enjoyed the boys at school, but home is the best place, the place where he felt truly loved. Although, he couldn't help remembering the letter he had received, that said they were to move. He wished he could stay here, where everything was familiar.

Yet, everything Jonathon was familiar with was in boxes or the like, and most of the rooms were empty. He sighed as he walked to his bedchamber that was shared with his siblings. Everything was gone, excepting the beds, the children's bedclothes, and clothes for the next two days.

"Awful lonely, isn't it?" Jonathon said to his younger brother, who had followed him.

"Tomorrow is Michaelmas. It should be merry," Joseph responded.

"Jonathon! Joseph! Supper!" their mother called. The two came quickly to the dining room, to find a pork sitting on the table alongside some celery. They sat down with the other family members.

"We thank God for our food and that Jonathon is home safe, Amen," Mr. Ferrars said. He being a pastor, grace was always said.

"Amen," the rest of the family responded, whether in words or hand gestures. The pork was readily devoured. Jonathon was the first to speak.

"I hear you are working on a new song for the pianoforte, Lilly." The girl in question nodded and smiled.

"It's coming along very well. I believe I should be able to play it for you tomorrow," she signed.

"Splendid."

Then all the typical questions a traveler must answer upon returning home were asked by Mrs. Ferrars. How did he leave the schoolhouse, was his journey enjoyable, and did he have enough money to get home, or did he have to borrow? The answers were, fine, no, and yes, he had enough.

"Why was your journey not enjoyable?" signed Lilly.

"I don't like to travel. Nothing particular happened, but traveling is never enjoyable to me," Jonathon replied.

"Then you will not like the day after next," Mary signed, "We will be traveling to Delaford." The boy sighed. He did not want to be reminded of the day after next.

"I am sorry Jonathon," Mr. Ferrars said, noticing his child's melancholy attitude, "I might have scheduled the move later if I had known it would upset you so."

"No, no, it is alright. The faster it takes place, the faster I can stop feeling sad." The family was silent for a few minutes, before Jonathon spoke again. "I should like to take a walk around the parish tomorrow to say good-bye."

"Of course," his father said.

"Please say hello to Lucy Smith for me," Mary signed. "As I do not think I would want to go on the good-bye walk. I do not like good-byes." Jonathon told her he would. Again the family was silent for a minute or so. Lilly was the first to sign something.

"Joseph made a sparrow. You ought to see it." Jonathon smiled.

"After supper, you can show it to me." Joseph smiled a large smile. It felt good to have his brother home where he belonged.

Lively chatter then ensued, since Jonathon's thoughts were led away from the melancholiness of the move. He spoke of the boys at the schoolhouse, and his family spoke of events of the parish. The chatter went something like this:

"Paul is becoming the fastest at the school."

"Caroline Prass was recently christened."

"I want to see Penelope again. She is the Plume's dog, you know."

"I do not enjoy writing class."

Thus, the evening passed and the children were put to bed. Jonathon was sharing a bed with Joseph, and the latter slept closest to the fire. The night proved to be cold, and Jonathon was secretly wishing he was close to the fire. But, if he was close to the fire, he wouldn't be able to have his journal close in between the wall and his bed.

No one knew Jonathon kept a journal. He didn't like to tell anyone, because the things he put in it were private, and he could see his father or mother reading it if they knew about it. And the boys at school would tell him he was acting like a girl. So, he kept the journal secretly tucked in between his bed and the wall.

Jonathon reached to get his journal. He had not written in it since the last he was at home. This had been during the summer. The last entry said:

"Tonight is my last night home before I leave for school. I think Father trusts me more. Today, he asked me my opinion on renovating the parish. He never asked my opinion on such things before. I told him that he should not do anything he could not pay for, but it would be very good if he could replace the windows because they are very drafty. He said thank you, and that it was good to have another opinion on the subject. Also, I shot a squirrel today! Father was so proud of me. We ate it for supper. I am feeling quite grown up today."

Jonathon picked up a pencil and went to sit by the fire so he could see, and thus he began to write a new entry. He spoke of the move to Delaford and his feelings for it. He wrote about feeling sad and vexed that the place he had known for so long was not going to be his home any longer; that he felt left out of the decision, though he knew it was the right one.

He closed by saying that he would hope to find a place to hide the journal at Delaford. After saying this, he quietly shut the book and put it in its place. He then crawled quietly into bed. Joseph shuffled, giving Jonathon less room, but Jonathon did not mind. He felt cozy. Jonathon sent a silent prayer up to Heaven before falling asleep,

"Please let this move not trouble anyone, especially Joseph."

Chapter Five

Lilly was awakened by a shaking sensation. Her eyes opened to find Mary shaking her violently.

"We will be late for church if you do not hurry, Lilly! And wake Jonathon please! I must go help Mama with something, but she told me to wake you first!" Mary signed quickly. Lilly rose slowly from the bed, and looked over at the other bed that contained Jonathon. She hated to wake him, especially after a day's journey yesterday, but they would be late for church if she did not, and the pastor's family should certainly not be late to church.

She walked over to the bed and shook Jonathon slowly. He had been lying on his side, so he turned now to lie on his back and face Lilly.

"We will be late for church if you do not make haste," she signed.

Jonathon looked at her bedclothes that she still had on and noted, "You ought to make haste yourself."

She smiled and signed, "I will." With that, she took her clothes and went away in another room to change, for it was customary for them to have the boys change in the bedchamber, and the girls somewhere else.

The two did change rather quickly, stole a small breakfast from the table in the dining room, and went to the hall where the rest of the family was waiting to go to church.

"I hope we did not keep you waiting long," Jonathon said, putting his coat on.

"Not at all," his father replied, opening the door to go outside. The family then proceeded to walk to church, for it was not far.

The thoughts of the family during the service were thus: Mrs. Ferrars thought the service wonderful, as usual. Jonathon thought it much better than any service there was at school. Mary thought it a waste of time and quite dull. Lilly thought it fine, but her mind wandered constantly, as an eight-year-old's mind will. Joseph listened to try to find some interesting Bible passages he could recite later.

Once it was over, Jonathon remarked to his father about the walk he was to take to see everyone in the village. His father had remembered and suggested they take it now.

The two set off to Garwell Abbey first. Lilly came with them, for she wanted to see their young dog, Penelope, again before they left. The majority of the conversation during the walk was on the weather or other light subjects, for no one wanted to be reminded of the move, or else Lilly and Jonathon would become quite depressed.

They were soon upon the Abbey, and welcomed into it with all happiness. Jonathon, of course, must answer the typical questions of a traveler once more. He found the Plumes in better spirits than he had expected, but they had always been a happy sort of people.

Lilly was also in great spirits, for Penelope was awake. The dog seemed to take an interest in the girl and ran around with her for 10 minutes or so, and then it was time to go.

Being somewhat fatigued and having her principal want fulfilled, Lilly was deposited at the parsonage and Mr. Ferrars and Jonathon proceeded on the good-bye walk. Mr. Carrington came first. Jonathon found Joseph and George White there, watching Mr. Carrington make a chair. The man was happy Jonathon had come to see him, but he was quite absorbed in his work, so Jonathon moved on.

The next stop was the Whites' house. On their way there, Mr. Ferrars started to speak to Jonathon about something that had been troubling his mind for some time.

"About a month ago, I told the people in this village about the move. Mrs. Jakes told me that I should not go, that income is my worst enemy, and that this move will trouble me." He paused. "I want to get your opinion on the subject. I wish to discuss this with someone who is mature and can truly appreciate our situation. I often turn to your mother in circumstances like this, but if I tell her, she will become frightened and stressed, and I want to avoid this."

"Mother never gets stressed," Jonathon said. Never once in his life had he seen his mother show any unhappy feelings, other than seeming distracted.

"Not in your presence. She never gets stressed in anyone's presence but mine. I suppose that that is a good thing, for that means she trusts me." The man paused again. "I truly want to know what you think about Mrs. Jakes' comments." This brought feelings in the boy similar to those that he remembered reading from the night before in his journal. His father did trust him more.

"Well," the boy said cautiously, "I think that Mrs. Jakes does not want you to leave."

"That is what I thought," Mr. Ferrars said, "But yet, it still troubles me. I think of your younger brother's health." Jonathon realized that his father was worried about Joseph dying.

"Well perhaps we ought to see her after the Whites, and see if she still thinks all the things you describe. After all, this was said a month ago."

Mr. Ferrars nodded.

Upon entering the home of the White's, Jonathon was greeted with a sword fight being put on by Fredrick and Steven. Fredrick was eleven, Steven was nine, and both were very active. When they realized Jonathon was here to see them before he left, they stopped their swordplay and went to tell their mother.

A young girl of four or five stepped into the passageway. She knew not how to treat the boy, for her mother often helped her with social interaction. She waved shyly, and Jonathon waved back.

The eight-year-old Patience appeared with her mother soon after. The mother picked the four year old girl up in her arms and was then all smiles. She asked Jonathon how he was, remarked how very kind it was for him to visit, and then Fredrick asked him to join in their swordplay, for they had no one to play the Russian general Mikhail Kutusov. Steven then complained of always being defeated because he was always Napoleon. Fredrick said it was because he was the shortest, and Napoleon was short. Steven found this offensive and decided to hit Fredrick in the face. Mr. Ferrars and Jonathon thought it best that they leave.

Although they were both eager to speak with Mrs. Jakes, they realized that several other families who should be visited lived along the path to her home Among them were the Prasses; a family that Jonathon knew from their son being at the same school; the Smiths as Mary had wanted; and a short stop at the parsonage to eat dinner.

Mrs. Jakes's house was not far from the parsonage, perhaps only about three quarters of an hour away. Jonathon was quite eager to see the old woman again, for he remembered her to be very wise and kind. He hoped what she had said to his father was simply out of shock and had no true consequence.

Mr. Ferrars and Jonathon were greeted at the door by Emily, and received with cordiality. Mrs. Jakes was in the sitting room, and so thither they went. The old woman was very happy to see Jonathon, for he had always been one of her neighborhood favorites.

"I am delighted to see you again," Mrs. Jakes said.

"And I you, m'am," Jonathon responded. Mr. Ferrars began to talk to Emily about the weather, so Jonathon took this opportunity of talking to Mrs. Jakes about what she had said to his father.

"I understand that about a month ago, you thought this move would trouble us," he said cautiously. "May I ask if you still think this now?" Mrs. Jakes looked down at her jacket that she happened to be fixing. She did not want to trouble the Ferrarses too much, even though she was saying what she thought to be the truth.

"Yes, indeed I do," she said, almost too low to be audible.

"May I ask why?" Jonathon said, curious about the lady's hesitancy. Mrs. Jakes looked at Jonathon's father, who was still talking with Emily. Mrs. Jakes had noticed how that man seemed to be upset by the move already, and having him hear what she was about to say was not a pleasant idea.

"You know, my child, how I have reoccurring dreams?" she quietly said to Jonathon.

"Yes," the child said.

"And do you know how many of them come true?"

"I remember you telling me they all came true, m'am. At least, in a figurative way."

"Indeed it is so. I have had a reoccurring dream this past month, and a week before that. Not every night, but a good deal of nights, I would see your family. You were not in Garwell Abbey, but it seemed to me you were at another parsonage. Everything was well, but then-" the lady paused, "Then you would have troubles. They were different almost every night, but it always started in a great deal of water." Jonathon wanted to ask her exactly what "a great deal of water" was, but by then his father had finished all possible inconsequential chatter with Emily, so it was time to take their leave.

On the way back to the parsonage, Mr. Ferrars asked Jonathon if he had obtained any information regarding "this move will trouble you." Jonathon quickly went through options in his head. Should he tell his father what was said, and make him worried? Should he lie so his father would not be upset? Should he only say that she still thought it, so his father would be a little worried, but not much? He then remembered that lying, even to protect someone, is never a good thing. He was sure that lying to your father who was also a clergyman had an even worse prospect.

"She said that she still thinks those thoughts, and she thinks them because of a reoccurring dream she has had," he said.

"Did she say what that dream was?" Mr. Ferrars inquired, anxious about his family's safety.

"She said that we were at a parsonage, and we would have troubles. She did not specify what they were, but said that they all started in a great deal of water." Mr. Ferrars looked at his son questioningly.

"Did she say what she meant by "a great deal of water"?"

"I was going to ask her, but it was time to leave." Both father and son were silent for a time. Mr. Ferrars thought about what "a great deal of water" meant. Jonathon thought the same thing, but the two came up with very different conclusions. Mr. Ferrars thought that perhaps it signified the sea or flooding. Jonathon thought that perhaps it meant rain or tears.

Both came to another conclusion. It was Michaelmas, and the evening would be enjoyable, no matter what their troubles were.

"Then war broke out in heaven; Michael and his angels battled against the dragon. The dragon and its angels fought back, but they did not prevail and there was no longer any place for them in heaven. The huge dragon, the ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, who deceived the whole world, was thrown down to the earth, and its angels were thrown down with it," Joseph's voice was a bell ringing in the silent Ferrars home. "Revelation, 12:7." The boy shut the Bible that he had in his hands and smiled at his father. "And that is why we call this celebration Michaelmas today, correct?"

"I do not know, to be frank, but I believe so," Mr. Ferrars said as smiled back.

Lilly rose from her seat in a chair.

"May we celebrate now?" she signed. The family used any excuse they could to celebrate, but Lilly and Mary especially enjoyed festivities.

"Yes, let's!" Mary signed, standing and joining her sister. "Lilly, go to the pianoforte and play a jig!" Lilly smiled widely and went to the piano. Every time she sat at the bench, she saw a portrait of her Aunt Brandon on the wall. It was not there, as it had been packed away, but Lilly thought of her anyhow. Mrs. Brandon had always been fond of music, and she had insisted that her sister's children learn how to play, if her sister would not play herself. She sent the Ferrarses the pianoforte for the very purpose. Mrs. Ferrars played a very little, and managed to teach her two daughters to play. Mary could not hear the instrument, and therefore could not play almost at all, but Lilly proved to be a sort of prodigy.

The girl opened the instrument and looked toward her family before beginning. Mr. Ferrars was ready to dance with Mrs. Ferrars, and Jonathon was likewise with Mary. Though Mary could not hear the music, she knew the steps of the dance by heart. She also found that if she took off her shoes and socks, and Lilly played loud enough, she could feel the vibrations through the floor. Being at her own home, and not likely to be condemned by anybody for it, she had decided to take off her shoes and socks. Lilly began to play a lively jig.

The room was soon full of gaiety and teasing one another at how little they knew the dance. Excuses were then given, and the teasers saw an opening for even more teasing. It was quite fun though, and nobody was offended.

Joseph observed all of this with great delight. He was very happy watching from his place on his chair and could clap along with the music. Being a cripple, he rarely danced. He did not know any of the dances yet anyhow.

The song finished, and the dancers bowed and curtsied to each other in an exaggerated fashion that made Joseph laugh. They then parted, and Jonathon moved in the direction of the piano.

"You said you could play a new song?" he asked his sister. The girl in question nodded and smiled. "Let's hear it, then."

"It is not a dance," she signed.

"It does not matter," the boy said, "for I believe we are all quite tired after the last one, anyway." He motioned to his mother who was seated, or rather, slumped in a chair, with a deep color in her cheeks from the exercise.

Lilly looked to her brother and signed, "Very well then." She turned to the instrument again and pulled out some nearby music that was titled "Fur Elise". She positioned her hands and began to play. The family became silent. Mary went over to stand by the piano and feel the vibrations better.

The song lasted about three minutes, and at the end of it, her family clapped enthusiastically. Jonathon was quite impressed at his sister's performance, for he had heard the music teacher play the same song at school, and believed Lilly to be almost his equal. Jonathon believed the man to have a great knowledge of music, so to hear his sister play almost as good as he was something that astonished and pleased him.

Mr. Ferrars then requested something more formal. Lilly pulled out different music as the family lined up to dance again. Jonathon was dancing with his mother, and Joseph was dancing with Mary. That is, he was riding atop his father's shoulders to dance with Mary.

The song began, slow and steady. The dancers circled each other and walked forwards and backwards as the dance called. Joseph was having some difficulty in not hitting his head on the ceiling, but was having fun just the same.

When the song was done, Mr. Ferrars looked at his pocket watch. It was past 8:00pm, and the children should get to bed in order to get an early start tomorrow.

"I am sorry to be stopping everyone's fun, but it is time to go to bed," he announced. Lilly and Mary pleaded with him, Jonathon went upstairs, and Joseph tried to make an entreaty, but it was interrupted by a yawn which contradicted his point very much. The girls were eventually put to bed after some time of arguing, which gave them an extra half hour.

Mrs. Ferrars lay in her bed later that night. She thought about various things. "Who would take the parish here? I hope Marianne and her family are in good health. I wonder what the conditions of the roads are. My, it's cold."

At the last thought, she went over to the almost out fire and poked it. It did nothing, so she added a log and lit it. Her husband had come in the room without her noticing and was now behind her.

"Lilly finally went to sleep," he said. "I was afraid to leave her, for I believe she would have woken Mary, gone downstairs and tried to prolong the festivities." Mrs. Ferrars smiled at this.

"And you are sure she is asleep?"

"Not at all." The two laughed quietly. Mrs. Ferrars stood up now that the fire was started. She got into bed while her husband changed. Thoughts in her head continued to bounce from one to the other, until finally she fell asleep.

"Mama?" Joseph looked at his sleeping mother. "Mama?" he whispered again. This time Mrs. Ferrars's eyelids opened slowly.

"Who's there?" It being dark, she could not make out who was standing there.

"Joseph," came the timid reply.

"What is it, Joseph?"

"I-I had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you?" Mrs. Ferrars got out of bed and let Joseph in. She got in after him, and inquired what his dream was. "Well," he began quietly, "I was going to Delaford all by myself, and, and I was feeling very happy because I was walking without a crutch… a-and then a wolf came out, came out of the woods, but, but all I could see was his eyes and teeth he looked very hungry and scary a-and then I ran away and more wolves came out of the woods and chased me until I saw a ghost and it took out the land from under me and, and then I fell, fell, fell, and fell until I hit the ground and I was surrounded by fire and then I woke up on the floor by the fire." Mr. Ferrars had been awakened by this speech, though he heard nothing of it.

"Who's there?" he asked.

"It is only Joseph. He had a nightmare," his wife responded.

"Poor thing. Last night he's here, he cannot sleep sound." Mr. Ferrars then went back to sleep almost instantly. Mrs. Ferrars hugged her son.

"It was only a dream, Joseph. Perhaps the falling was you falling off the bed, and the fire in your dream was the fire in your room."

"Yes, maybe. It was still scary Mama, ever so scary." The boy trembled at the very recollection of it.

"Well, think not of it now. Try to think of happy things, like chocolate or, the Plumes or,"

"Mr. Carrington's shop?" Joseph suggested.

"Indeed," Mrs. Ferrars said, relieved he was catching on.

"Like Mr. Carrington's shop, the smell of wood, George, the sound of a hammer-"
The boy yawned here, and continued to go on, but it was inaudible to Mrs. Ferrars. She found herself falling asleep once more, this time without having any annoying thoughts in her head that would not quit.