Edmund Bertram's Diary

‘I saw you ride past my window this morning,’ said Miss Crawford to my sisters as she and her family joined us at the Park for dinner. ‘How I envied you your exercise.’

‘You must come with us,’ said Maria.

‘It would do no good, for I cannot ride.’

‘Cannot ride?’

The idea was startling.

‘Then you must learn,’ said Maria.

‘Alas, I have no horse,’ she said rueful y.

‘Then you must borrow one of ours.’

‘Indeed you must,’ I pressed her. ‘I have just the animal, a quiet mare who is perfect for beginners.’

‘What if I am frightened?’ she asked, glancing at me teasingly, so that I could not tel whether she meant it or not, for her temperament is so different from my own that half the time I do not know how to understand her.

‘There is no need,’ I said, taking her at her word. ‘She is the quietest creature imaginable. I bought her for Fanny when the grey pony died.’

‘In that case I must decline,’ she protested. ‘I cannot think of taking Miss Price’s mare from her. It would be very wrong.’

‘There would be no question of that. If Fanny does not object, it would only mean taking the mare down to the Parsonage half an hour before your ride, well before Fanny usual y goes out, and you may both have your exercise.’

Fanny said at once that she did not mind at all.

‘Then I will bring the mare down to the Parsonage tomorrow, ’ I said.

‘And will you instruct me?’ Miss Crawford asked me.

‘If you wish.’

‘I do wish. I will feel safer with you there, for I am sure you will be able to teach me how to go on, you are such an experienced horseman. I should have learned before this; Henry was always trying to teach me; but somehow I never had the urge before now.’

‘Then we must not disappoint you. I will be at the Parsonage early with the groom.’

Her face fell.

‘I have no habit,’ she said.

‘That is nothing,’ said Mrs. Grant, ‘you may borrow one of mine until you can have one made. You will want something in a newer style eventual y, but mine will serve you for the present.’

As the ladies continued to talk of their habits, I found myself looking forward to the morrow with an eagerness I have not felt since I was a boy.

Sunday 31 July

I set out after church for the Parsonage, rejoicing in the day. It was calm and serene, with just enough cloud to prevent it being too hot, and a welcome breeze. Miss Crawford was waiting for me, attired in Mrs. Grant’s habit.

‘You must excuse my dress,’ she said droll y, glancing at the yards of material that trailed on the floor behind her. ‘My sister is inches taller than I am.’

Tom would have thought of a compliment, but such things do not spring easily to my mind. Instead I told her that her habit would do very well and helped her to mount. She was almost as light as Fanny, and with my hands round her waist she was soon sitting on the mare. She looked nervous to find herself so far off the ground, but I reassured her, and she laughed at her fears and was soon restored to her usual humor. I gave her instructions on how to sit, and how to hold the reins, and everything else necessary for her to begin, and then told her how to walk forwards, which she did with surprising grace.

‘If I had known it was so enjoyable I would have learnt to ride long ago,’ she said, as her confidence grew, ‘though I suppose with riding, as with everything else, it is the company that determines the enjoyment.’

She cast me a smiling glance and I felt that she had read my mind, for it was her company that was making the day so enjoyable for me.

After half an hour I felt she had had enough and she reluctantly dismounted.

‘You seem formed for a horsewoman,’ I said to her as I escorted her back into the Parsonage.

‘And for a musician,’ she said, glancing at the harp. ‘If you will but give me a moment to change out of my habit, I will play for you.’

‘I should be getting back to the house. Fanny will be wanting her mare.’

‘Cannot the groom take her back? I feel I cannot let you go without a reward for your efforts. Do not make me shame myself by taking so much from you without giving you something in return.’

I could not resist her and, having instructed the groom to take the mare back to the Park, I awaited her in the sitting-room. Mrs. Grant sat with me whilst I waited, telling me how pleased she was with her brother and sister, and before long Miss Crawford returned, to entertain me with her playing. I do not know whether it was the liquid notes of the harp or the graceful movement of her white arms across the strings that enthralled me most but I was held captive, and I felt that I had never spent a pleasanter morning in my life.

AUGUST

Monday 1 August

Miss Crawford made even better progress this morning than she did on Friday, and delighted me with her daring.

‘This is wonderful!’ she said, as she walked the mare about the stable yard. ‘Why have I never done this before?’

‘Because you have lived in town, and there it is not so easy to learn.’