Posted on Sunday, 4 June 2000
Anne settled in for the night, after the maid plumped the pillows and made sure the windows were sealed to prevent the slightest unhealthy breeze from disturbing the young lady.
After extinguishing the candle, Anne hopped out of bed to open her window. She was much too happy this evening to turn in to humor her mother. In the growing twilight, she could see Mrs. Collins walking in the lane, and she raised her hand to wave at her new friend. Hopefully Mrs. Collins was able to send the letter to her friend, Anne thought, smiling and renewing her wave as Charlotte acknowledged her then turned to distract Mr. Collins.
Anne turned away from the window and spun around in her room, her white nightdress billowing around her ankles like a bell around its clapper. Anne's hand accidentally brushed a statuette from her end table and, though it dropped harmlessly to the thick Persian carpeting, sobered her up a bit and she jumped into the center of her bed. Just think, I shall be free tomorrow! Mother can no longer plan on Fitzwilliam and me marrying after he marries Miss Bennett! O, happy thought!
Since the invitation arrived, Anne had been walking carefully around her mother, trying to avoid raising her ire. Fortunately, Mr. Collins appeared to be bearing the brunt of the lady's formidable rage. Chuckling quietly to herself in order to avoid detection, Anne settled back into her pillows as the last bits of daylight fled from the sky.
"Anne, wake up. I insist you wake up right this moment," a laughing voice cut into her dreams.
"It's not polite to mock Mother." Her attempt at severity dissolved as she observed that her tormentor was carrying a basket laden with delicacies of which her mother would never in a million years approve. "Would you like a bit of help?" Smiling now, she rose and cleared a place on the bedside table, then returned to her bed, fluffing the pillows.
"How is the patient this morning? Are you in need of medical assistance?"
"I do feel a slight chill coming on," Anne confessed, squirming a bit against her pillows in anticipation of the strawberries and forbidden croissant. "Though, Dr. Remoray, I am rather surprised at your making calls at this hour!"
The good doctor chuckled quietly, then turned and closed the window and the shades. "Well, who could do less for such an amenable patient?" Dr. Remoray reached into the basket and brought forth a small basket of ripe. . .
. . . cabbage. I must remember to have a double helping of cabbage tomorrow to celebrate the wedding Anne mused to herself, as she turned over and tried to recapture her dream.