Mary did not share all her hobbies. She still kept her archery and her rambles in the woods secret, though she did talk about her gardening and her botany. She was surprised to find that Miss Lucas was quite interested in the garden she had planned for the spring, until she realized that Miss Lucas was mainly interested in her attempts to grow strawberries, which she adored.
In short, those three weeks were a time of peace and relative happiness for Mary.
At the beginning of February, it was quickly confirmed that the new resident of Netherfield had arrived. He was a single gentleman. He had brought no friends or family with him, but he did not seem to be unsociable.
A few days after his arrival, when The Mary Circle next met, Miss Lucas shared what news she had gathered from her parents.
“Papa visited him the very day after his arrival, you know,” she said. “He couldn’t give me much of a description, though. You know how men can never seem to tell whether another man is handsome or not. All he said was that he seemed to be a perfectly friendly gentleman, though he would not say what brought him here.”
“Did your father at least say whether he was tall or stout?” asked Miss King. “He must have said something about his looks.”
“Well, I think he mentioned light brown hair and average height,” said Miss Lucas. “I am fairly certain that is all he said on that subject. However, Mama had even more interesting news just this morning.”
“And what is that?” asked Mary. She wasn’t overly fond of gossip, but one simply couldn’t help being curious about a new arrival.
“Apparently, he has spent the last two evenings in The Three Barrels,” said Miss Lucas.
“The Three Barrels?” asked Miss King. “That can’t be right. Gentlemen never go in there. It’s mostly farmers and laborers.”
“I am certain that is what Mama said,” replied Miss Lucas. “Apparently, he drank beer and cheap gin just like everyone else, and he played cards with anyone who was willing.”
“That seems rather unfair,” said Mary. “He must have been playing much higher than the patrons of such an establishment would be used to.”
“Not at all,” said Miss Lucas. “That is the strangest thing of all. He was playing for farthings and pennies. Nothing greater than that.”
“He must not be a true gentleman,” said Mary. “No man with any experience with the comforts of wealth would be willing to do such things.”
“I suppose it is possible Mama heard wrong,” said Miss Lucas. “I thought her source was pretty good, though. She heard it from the butcher’s wife who had it directly from the wife of the proprietor of The Three Barrels.”
“That does seem likely to be legitimate,” said Miss King.
Against her will, Mary’s curiosity was greatly raised about this new gentleman. What kind of man would go to the expense of leasing such a large property as Netherfield and then spend all his time in the cheapest pub in the area?
She hoped very much to meet such a man, or at least to learn why he would behave so oddly.
~~~~~
It was two weeks before Mary met Mr. Porter, the mysterious gentleman from Netherfield. In that time, she heard very little more than what she already knew. He did join the local gentlemen at the Red Lion a few nights, but mostly heeither kept to himself, or he joined the lower classes at the Three Barrels.
No one knew how he spent his days, though there was much speculation. Some assumed that he must be entertaining himself with some out-of-season hunting, but Mary was fairly certain he was not. She had heard no gunshots coming from the forest between Longbourn and Netherfield.
There was so little actual information and so much speculation that the stories grew wilder and wilder. At one point, Miss King insisted he must be a secret novelist who was here to hide away while he wrote his next novel. She was so convinced this must be the case, that she even attempted to guess which novelist he might be.
The only reasonable explanation Mary could come up with was that he didn’t particularly like society, so he was escaping it for a time. She guessed that he probably spent his days riding and reading.
The deep winter was not a particularly sociable time in Hertfordshire. The weather was unpredictable, and the roads were sometimes unsafe for carriages. Despite the risk, however, Sir William could not tolerate too much time to pass without throwing a party. Thus, a card party was held at Lucas Lodge in the middle of February.
His two drawing rooms and the parlor were all filled with tables where cards could be played, and every adult in the neighborhood of a certain station was invited. Fortunately, the weather was kind to them, and most of those invited were able to attend.
Mary quite liked such parties. Though she was not particularly pleased with balls and soirees, where the primary entertainment involved interacting with others, a card partyprovided a medium and a ready subject that made such interaction far easier.
She was rather fond of whist and had become quite good at it. The focus she had learned while attempting to force her mind to hold onto knowledge it did not want came very much in handy in such a game. In fact, she had become just as good a player as the most experienced older members of her society.
Mary was pleased and a little nervous to be paired up with the mysterious gentleman staying at Netherfield for her first game.
Mr. Porter seemed to be as average as a gentleman can be. He was dressed well in clothing that was as fine as any she had seen, but it was not overly flashy. His face didn’t have any outstanding features, though it was a little broader than might be considered handsome. His eyes were a bold blue, and his hair was a light brown.
She guessed he was in his early thirties. His hair seemed to be receding slightly, though it was not enough that he would try to cover it up with ridiculous hairstyles as she had seen other gentlemen do.
