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He began the little air once more. Anna had ceased pulling at his coat. Her head turned toward him, and when he stopped she made a soft sound as though she had something to add.

“I do not know the words,” he told her.

“She does not either,” Martha replied.

Darcy smiled and continued. He had heard his sister play it many times without asking the name. He wished now that he had asked about every piece of music she liked, every small occupation she began and left unfinished. There would never be time enough to recall them all.

But Anna was here, pressing her fingers against his sleeve, and he knew enough of the air to sing it for her.

When she began to rub her face against the blanket, he looked at Ruth.

“Shall we stop while she is still content?”

“Yes, sir. That would be best.”

Martha leaned forward to take the child. Anna reached toward her without looking back at Darcy.

He let her go.

They had remained scarcely a quarter of an hour.

“Another day, if the weather allows?” he asked.

“We shall come,” Martha said.

“And I shall come to you.”

Anna caught at Martha’s collar. Her uncle ceased to interest her once she had obtained the person she wanted. He found he could bear the slight remarkably well.

After they left, he picked up the rattle Ruth had placed upon the table. He nearly rang to have it sent after them, then remembered that he meant to call at the cottage before dinner.

He put it in his pocket.

Chapter Thirty-seven

FOR MONDAY EVENING Caroline had arranged a supper from which Darcy could not reasonably escape to his accounts.

His right hand still required a dressing. Mr. Ellis had allowed him more use of it, but writing for any length of time remained uncomfortable, and Charles had seized upon that circumstance to declare him wholly at the disposal of his guests. A little music after supper could do him no possible harm.

Darcy agreed. He liked music. He also knew that refusing every pleasure until his hand was sound would make him very poor company.

Caroline had invited the Westcotts to join them. She had consulted Jane about the hour, Mrs. Reynolds about supper, and Darcy about the invitation before sending it. There was nothing in the arrangement to object to, and he had found no reason to do so.

The evening prospered under her care.

Mrs. Westcott arrived anxious about the damp, and discovered a place near the fire which Caroline had reserved for her. Mr. Westcott wished to discuss the state of the roads after the storm. Charles was pleased to hear that one way toward Alderbrook had proved less troublesome than the other, and drew his chair nearer before anyone could wish to change the subject.

Their daughter had brought a new piece of music. Caroline examined it with interest and asked whether she would play it later.

“I have not practised it sufficiently,” Miss Westcott said.

“Then we shall be grateful to hear what you know better. I should not like to be introduced to strangers by the thing I did least well.”

The younger woman smiled, visibly relieved. Darcy appreciated Caroline’s tact. He had seen her display it often enough to know that her sharpness toward Elizabeth was not an inability to behave otherwise.

Elizabeth sat beside Jane, untangling a ribbon from her sister’s work before the things were put away. When Caroline asked whether she would sing, she looked up.

“I shall be very happy to listen.”