Following Ophelia by Sophia Bennett

Author:Sophia Bennett [Sophia Bennett]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781847158529
Publisher: Stripes Publishing
Published: 2017-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

The perfectly adjusted Persephone dress lay folded in Mary’s basket, where Annie paused each night to look at it.

“When did you say your cousin’s friend was getting married?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You’d think a girl would need her wedding dress.”

“You would,” Mary agreed, avoiding Annie’s eye. “I’m sure she’ll ask for it soon.” At least she had a vague excuse for this lie. Harriet had not been at church on Sunday. There was no news of her, but Mary assumed she’d been unwell. In a way, she was glad not to have seen her cousin recently. Harriet was bound to ask her questions that she didn’t feel like answering.

To Cook and Annie’s great relief – and Mary’s disappointment – Lady Emmeline hadn’t called for her the day after her trip with Kitty. Nor did she send a message in the week that followed. Now each day dragged slowly, a pale imitation of the day before.

Rupert Thornton called round several times to see the professor, often dining with him alone. Without Mrs Aitken or other ladies present, they didn’t need two servants to wait on them, so Mary hardly saw Rupert unless the they needed port in the study. Then he was reduced to his usual silent stare of longing. She tried to avoid his eye. It wasn’t Rupert she wanted to be stared at by.

Why did Felix not want to see her? What had happened? She had no way of finding out and there were ten long days until her next day off, when she could run to Walton Street and find out for herself. The wondering was torture. He had seemed so tender the last time they were together. Had she spoiled it by not kissing him that last time in the studio? Or by wanting to? Had she misunderstood?

Mary took refuge in the book of poems he had given her. Though ‘refuge’ was perhaps the wrong word. It intensified her feelings, which made them harder to bear. She read the anthology every night, tucked inside her bible so Annie wouldn’t see it. She had moved on from Tennyson to Byron.

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

The words transported Mary to the dark walk in the cemetery.

“What are you reading?” Annie asked, from across the attic room.

“The Book of Job.”

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes.

“I never saw the Book of Job make a girl look that way.”

“Then you don’t know your bible.”

She read the lines over and over, learning them by heart. It was impossible not to picture Felix watching her as he drew her. She tried to hide her tears and when that failed, she told Annie she was homesick.

“Ah, the Book of Job does that to a girl,” Annie commented sarcastically.

For once Mary wished she could just talk to her. She was lonelier than she’d ever been, now that Lady Emmeline was well.

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