CHAPTER 14
Charlotte Heywood’s natural inclination to observe the Sanditon inhabitants was soon to be satisfied. For what better situation is there than a garden party to afford so analytical a creature so perfect an opportunity for observation. It was quite decided upon. They would be blessed with good weather, and of guests there would be no shortage. The grounds of Trafalgar House lent themselves exceedingly well to such an event, and the party would, naturally, go off well. This was Sanditon! Mrs. Parker, although quite capable and perfectly content to make all the arrangements, was obliged to accept Miss Diana Parker’s offers of assistance. She could draw up a list of the afternoon’s activities, although a recent attack of bowel inflammation left her disinclined to rush about the place.
“But Mary, let me put your mind at ease,” Diana said weakly,“I shall be quite equal to taking on lists so long as my family’s health allows it.You know I cannot focus my mind to any task without a list. I am one who is quite unanchored without an inventory.”
Lady Denham accepted the invitation. “Of course you shall have me there, Mrs. Parker, but I must insist upon having that spot beneath your canvas awning as my own. I dehydrate in direct sun ... brain shrinkage is a very real danger at my age. My poor dear husband,” it was not clear to which poor dear husband she referred, “would very likely have lived longer had he shielded his head from the heat,” said she.
Mr. Sidney Parker was, quite as his brother had described him, a man full of joviality. His nieces and nephews loved him. Mrs. Parker often complained that her brother-in-law overindulged her four little ones but Sidney was unstoppable. He bought the children theatrical masks, he made paper ships, he told the most interesting stories, all invented and all with something fantastic in them, and he wrote their names, and his own, backwards, to make them laugh.
There was something rather admirable, Charlotte thought, about a man who could see the entertainment of children as valuable.There was no such desire to run and laugh and amuse in Mr. Parker, he had fathered and he loved his children, but it was always Sidney (Uncle “Yendis”) who was responsible for laughter.
There were daily conversations between Sidney Parker and Charlotte Heywood. Having found themselves obliged to stay in the same house, these regular talks became something of a habit. Sidney, eager to remove from the stifling gentility of the lodgings he had taken on the Terrace, fixed himself with every intention of permanence at Trafalgar House. His view, that breakfasts, lunches, teas, and suppers all require a garnish of talk to make them tolerable, was demonstrated by his incessant conversation and his apparent inability to remain silent, even when the encumbrance of a fish was to be considered.
“There is nothing so grating on the nerves as the constancy of silence and the sound of a spoon on a dish.The clink of cup against a saucer drives me quite wild. I must have talk!” said Sidney.
“Does gossip satisfy you then? Would you not favor silence if the only talk to be had were mediocre, idle?” asked Charlotte.
“No, Madam, I certainly should not. Quiet simply blasts my ears. I should infinitely prefer idle talk to none at all.”
“But you would not take it seriously?”
“Certainly not. But must everything be serious, Miss Heywood? I often see you hiding a smile or two.”
“That is, perhaps, merely a girlish habit. One which you are unlikely to be prone to.”
Diana Parker’s list making proved something of a task. Details of the catering alone covered four sheets of pressed paper. She did not want picnic food! She did not want a banquet. She had settled upon something in-between.The entertainments were perplexing her; Sidney suggested Bullet Pudding for the children, Diana threw her hands up in dismay, and Mrs. Parker finally squashed the idea by telling a dreadful story of a choked child. There were to be card games and, (this too was Sidney’s idea) the possibility of a Masquerade was discussed.“I heard they had one at Ranelagh,” said he,“and it went off terribly well. The entire garden filled with masks. It would be vastly funny.”
“Trafalgar House, fine though it is, is not quite Ranelagh, Sidney,” said Diana wearily, “we must tailor our plans accordingly, besides, I so dislike masks, there is something fearsome in them. It vexes me not to know a person, not to see who they are.”
“Then you must spend your life in a state of vexation, sister,” said Sidney,“for no one shows themselves fully.We are all masqueraders to some degree.”
“And what guise do you adopt, Sir?” said Charlotte, surprised.
“Why that of your commonplace jester, Miss Heywood, but I have a solemn side. Never mistake me for nothing more than a comedian. I have what might be termed a fluctuating tendency toward gravity. I can frown as hard as the next men when it is required of me.”
“I do not think I ever saw you somber.There is nothing tragic or grave in you.You do laugh at life, at everything.”
“Outwardly yes, but I am not all mirth. I have not grinned my way about the world. After a man is one and twenty he must honor the expectation of being mature. You might not believe it, Miss Heywood, but I am quite capable of proper feeling.”
“Perhaps though, Sir, you are not so capable of showing it,” said Charlotte.
Diana Parker’s insistence that costumes and masks were not to be considered halted their conversation sharply. They must focus on the practicalities; this they, Charlotte and Sidney, did accordingly but there was something altered in the way they now saw each other. Sidney was unmasking, and Charlotte, whose openness was one of her admirable points, was inclined to shield herself. She was not sure, or perhaps could not acknowledge, that her feelings for Sidney Parker had advanced, changed. She was privately concerned that she was falling in love with him. The danger, however, of falling in love with such a lighthearted fellow, might be very great. She would therefore enjoy his company but view him with caution. She was not to be drawn in.