After breakfast, Mary went up to her room again. She had one task to take care of there before she left to go shopping.
She went over to her bookshelf. There were very few books on it, since most of the books she read belonged to her father. However, it was quite full of stacks of papers, all of which contained her notes and her extracts.
She had intended to burn it all, but she quickly realized that if she threw that much paper into the fire all at once, it might just spread and burn the entire house down. So, she selected the notes about the book she had hated the most and tossed those into the fire.
The feeling of catharsis as she watched the hated extracts burn was heady indeed, and she was once again tempted to simply toss everything in and watch it all burn, taking her torturous past with it.
She did not give in. Instead, she promised herself she would burn more when she returned from shopping.
She put on her pelisse, gloves, and cloak. Then, on her way out the door, she gathered the few books that were not her own. Once downstairs, she headed for her father’s bookroom. He was clearly in there, so she knocked.
“Come in,” came the call from within.
“I have come to return your books,” she said once inside.
“All of them?” asked her father.
“Yes, all of them,” said Mary firmly.
“And what will you be studying next?” he asked.
“Nothing, Father,” she said.
He looked at her disbelievingly. “Nothing at all? That does not sound like you, Mary.”
“Perhaps,” she said. Inside, she was thinking that nothing she was about to do sounded like the Mary everyone knew. Nevertheless, she would do it. If no one else would give her the attention she craved, she would do it herself.
Father and daughter stared at each other for several seconds, each waiting for the other to say something. Eventually, Mary said, “Well, if you will excuse me, I will take my leave.”
He took a bit longer to reply than was natural, but he eventually said, “Of course. Enjoy your outing.”
“Thank you,” she said. Once Mary’s back was to him as she headed out the door, she smiled. She would indeed enjoy her outing.
There was one last thing to do before leaving the house. She headed for the parlor where Mama was surrounded by her sewing materials, working on some sort of project as she waited for her callers. Today was Mama’s at-home day.
“Mama, I was hoping you could give me some money for a new bonnet and, perhaps, a few ribbons and such.”
Mama’s jaw dropped visibly in her surprise. “Have you spent all your quarterly allowance already? That is very unlike you, Mary.”
Even in this new selfishness, Mary would not utter a lie. Since she still had most of her allowance left, she said, “I am sorry, Mama.”
In truth, she would spend her mother’s money on a bonnet and various furbelows just as she had said, but that was not because she didn’t have any of her own. In fact, she had saved quite a bit over the last four years since she had begun getting a much larger pocket allowance. However, with her newfound selfishness, she decided that she wished to spend her own money on her own hobbies rather than on her clothing.
In asking her mother for additional money, she was only copying the way Lydia used to behave and the way Kitty still did sometimes. Neither of them had ever been able to make their quarterly allowance stretch to last the full three months.
Mama sighed and got up. “Wait here,” she said and left the room.
When she returned, she handed Mary five guineas. It was half as much as her quarterly allowance, and Mary was stunned her mother would give her so much at once. She had hoped to receive a crown or two. She would have been overjoyed at a guinea. Five of them was almost too much.
“Make it last,” Mama said. “I will not give you more until next year at the earliest.” After a pause while Mary tried to decide how best to respond, Mama added, “Honestly, I think it will be good for you to spend a little more attention to your dress and appearance.”
Mary had never truly neglected her appearance, and Mama had always insisted on a certain standard, but at the same time, she had never spent as much time and attention on it as any other of her sisters. Time spent on appearance invariably took away from time spent on more substantial subjects. At least, that was what she had believed.
It was time to change that.
“Thank you, Mama,” said Mary fervently as she kissed her mother’s cheek in gratitude.
Finally, she headed out the front door and into the brisk chill of a November morning.
