Page 183 of The Long Road Back to Yesterday

“Miss Bingley, may I ask about your handkerchief? The embroidery is very fine.”

Caroline glanced down at it. “Do you think so?”

“Indeed. The flowers are beautifully shaded. Did you embroider them yourself?”

“I did.”

Caroline spread the handkerchief across her palm so Mary could see the work more clearly.

“I have been trying to improve my embroidery for some time. I was taught the usual stitches at school, of course, but I have lately discovered how much there is to learn if one wishes to do more than merely cover a piece of linen with flowers.”

Jane stepped nearer to examine it.

“You have used several shades in each of the petals.”

“Five in the larger roses. I began with three, but they looked flat, so I took them out and began again.”

“You were right to do so,” Jane said. “The lighter silk contrasts well with the darker and gives the petals depth.”

Caroline looked pleased. “That is precisely what I hoped to accomplish. I have been studying every piece of fine embroidery I encounter and trying to discover how the effect was achieved.”

Mary said, “Jane is the finest needlewoman among us. She has several pieces upstairs that I am certain you would enjoy.”

“I should like that very much, if Miss Bennet would permit it.”

“Of course. When you call again, I shall show them to you.”

“I shall look forward to it.”

They went outside together.

The morning was mild, and after the closeness of the drawing room, Kitty seemed glad to be in the open air, and she walked ahead. Bingley and Jane lagged behind, while Mary continued her conversation with Caroline.

Georgiana looked toward the trees.

“Can we see the hermitage from here?”

“Not until we are nearer the wood,” Elizabeth said. “The trees conceal most of it from the house.”

They followed the path beyond the garden.

“There it is,” Elizabeth said as the roof appeared through the trees.

The hermitage was even more charming at close range than it had appeared from the carriage. Time had softened the old stone, and ivy climbed the walls and curled around the windows. The roof sagged in places, and the little building had not been repaired in many years, but its age and neglect only added to its mystery.

Georgiana stopped before it. “Oh, Lizzy, it is delightful.”

Elizabeth walked to the entrance. “We thought so when we were children. Jane, Charlotte Lucas, and I played house here, and when Mary and Kitty were old enough, they joined us. We held tea parties with whatever we could persuade Cook to give us, and sometimes we pretended the hermitage was haunted.”

“Jane was always frightened when we played ghosts,” Kitty said, as she drew near.

“I was not frightened,” Jane protested from farther along the path. “I merely disliked having Lydia jump out at me from behind the door.”

Kitty laughed. “She was a sly thing and caught each of us off guard at one time or another. She delighted in making us startle and scream.”

Georgiana looked from one sister to another. “You must have had wonderful times here.”

“We did,” Elizabeth said. “Charlotte lived nearby, and she was with us nearly every day. We spent a great part of our childhood inventing one adventure after another.”