Page 62 of The Secret Diary of Anne de Bourgh

“Not yet.”

“Then I must not interrupt you. Miss Catherine, I think Georgiana had a question for you; may I escort you to her?”

He went away again, taking Kitty with him.

There could be no mistaking it this time. Richard was giving Mr Byerly the opportunity to have my exclusive attention, undivided.

Mr Byerly turned another page.

I made myself look at it.

It would have been very unkind to punish him for something which was not his fault. He had taken trouble to bring a book he thought I would enjoy, and he had every reason to suppose that I wished to see it.

Indeed, I did wish to see it. Just… rather less than I wished to spend time with Richard.

We spent quite some time looking through the illustrations. Georgiana joined us, and was interested in a scene I had scarcely noticed. She thought the arrangement of the figures very graceful, and Mr Byerly asked whether she drew from such pictures herself.

Sometimes, she said, though she preferred to draw things she could actually see.

Kitty, who had followed Georgiana to join us again, said that this was all very well when the things would remain still.

“I remained still for a very long time,” I reminded her.

“You did. Until you wished to turn the page.”

Mr Byerly asked for an explanation, and Kitty told him about my sitting for her drawings. I had thought myself a tolerably patient model, but her account suggested that I had spent the whole time demanding permission to move.

He appeared much entertained.

Before he left, he said that Mr Thurston had allowed him to leave the books with us for a few days, if I wished to examine them further.

I thanked him, and said that I should be very glad to do so.

“Then perhaps you will tell me which picture you like best when I next come.”

I promised that I would.

Afterwards Richard asked whether I had enjoyed looking at the books.

“Very much.”

“I thought you would. It was considerate of him to bring them.”

“Yes.” I looked down at the books again.

“He seems attentive to what interests you.”

I looked at Richard, wondering whether he expected me to say something more.

He was smiling at me quite kindly.

I could think of no answer which would not betray how unreasonable I was feeling, so I began to gather up my music instead.

20 August

Christopher left us this morning, with several commissions from Mary and a promise to write when he reached home.

She had made a list for him. I thought at first that it concerned the stillroom, but there were other matters upon it, including a question about a chair which she remembered seeing in one of the bedchambers.