Page 34 of The Secret Diary of Anne de Bourgh

“He did not merely wish to hear it. He wished her to say that she loved him better than anybody else, and to say it before everybody.”

“Would it have cost her so much to humour him?”

I had been quite ready with my next argument, but that question checked me. I looked down at the page, considering for a moment.

“Perhaps he would only have wished to be humoured again,” I said at last. “And then again. There are people who are never satisfied, whatever one does to please them.”

Elizabeth had been attending to some correspondence beside us. I heard the papers cease to rustle, and wished suddenly that I had said something different.

Mr Byerly considered my answer.

“That is a fair objection,” he said. “Though I am not certain Cordelia expected anything quite so dreadful to follow her refusal.”

“Nor did her father expect what would follow his temper,” I pointed out, recovering a little.

“No. I must concede that he had considerably more power to prevent the whole affair.”

I was pleased to have brought him so far, though he would not agree that Cordelia was entirely without fault. We might have continued for some time, had Kitty not declared that she hoped neither of us intended to put the entire play on trial before the tea arrived.

Mr Byerly laughed and apologised for neglecting the rest of the company. He asked to see the drawing she had been working upon, and listened with quite as much attention while she explained it as he had given to my arguments. I liked that. Kitty is accustomed to being told that her drawings are pretty, but he wanted to know how she intended the folds of a particular gown to fall, and she was soon showing him with a corner of her shawl.

He stayed nearly an hour. Before leaving, he asked whether I walked much in the gardens, and if I would show him Pemberley’s roses upon his next visit.

I said that I should be pleased to do so.

It was only after he had gone that I wondered whether I ought to have consulted Elizabeth before promising. She did not appear to think I had done anything improper, however. She was far more interested in where I intended to put my rose.

“I should like to keep it in the pot for a little while,” I said. “Until I know how to look after it properly.”

“Then we had better ask the gardener’s advice.”

Elizabeth and I found the head gardener outside. I asked where the rose should stand and how often it would need water. He answered patiently and chose a place on the terrace, where I can see the pot from the morning-room window.

I have already been out twice to examine the bud, though of course it has scarcely altered in the few hours since it arrived. I should like to have a flower to show Mr Byerly when he next comes.

29 June

I have fulfilled my promise to show Mr Byerly the roses, though I fear he could have found a great many people better qualified to do so. Until this week I knew scarcely anything about growing them, and my recent instruction concerns one small plant in a pot.

He did not seem to consider this an obstacle.

He came with his sister, who wished to call upon Elizabeth, and as the morning was very fine, Lizzy proposed that we should all go out. Georgiana came too, but Kitty declined, being occupied with a drawing she would not leave, and Mary had received a letter from Christopher which evidently required a very careful reading. She had already read it at breakfast, and again when we went upstairs afterwards.

“I expect it contains the measurements of the stillroom,” Kitty said solemnly.

Mary coloured, folded the letter and put it away.

“It contains several things I wished to know.”

“I am sure it does.”

Lizzy told Kitty to leave her sister in peace, though she was smiling as she said it, and we went to fetch our bonnets.

Mr Byerly wished to see his gift before we went any further. The bud has begun to open, though only a little, and I showed it to him with a degree of pride which is surely quite undeserved. I have done nothing but put it where I was told and inquire anxiously whether it required water.

“It appears to like its new home,” he said.

“I hope so. I should be very sorry if it does not thrive, I should not like to disappoint Mrs Thurston’s gardener, who gave it such loving care.”