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They sat together until Jane had finished the fastening and Elizabeth had strengthened the old mend. Three small daisies took her longer than she had intended; Jane put aside her own work to watch the last acquire its stem.
“There,” Elizabeth said, holding up the gown. “Mama may now claim to have preserved it in perfect condition.”
Mrs. Reynolds arrived while they were folding the linen. The recipient, she explained, was Martha Hargreaves, whose cottage stood beyond the kitchen gardens. She could have a servant take the parcel when the other household business was done.
“Let me carry it,” Elizabeth offered. “I have been looking at these paths long enough to wish to try one.”
“It is a pleasant walk, miss,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “Sally can show you the turning.”
“And when she has shown me, you shall have her back.” Elizabeth took the parcel from Jane. “I will not run away and oblige the entire house to search for me.”
“I should prefer you did not,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “We have only just finished unpacking.”
Jane laughed, and the housekeeper smiled with her.
Outside, the morning had grown warm. Elizabeth loosened the ribbon beneath her chin and resisted the temptation to follow every path that branched from their own. There would be time enough for exploration. Jane had begun speaking of the baby’s arrival with a confidence that made November seem very near; Elizabeth, walking beneath unfamiliar trees, was still getting used to being so far from home.
Sally pointed out the orchard, then a narrow gate. Beyond it stood a stone cottage with a tidy strip of garden before the door. The shutters had recently been painted, and the roof showed a neat patch of new work. Elizabeth noticed these things with the approving interest of someone who had spent an entire wet spring listening to her father postpone repairs to a passage ceiling.
Martha Hargreaves received them with surprise and a warmth that soon overcame it. The parcel was opened upon the table, Jane’s message repeated, and each piece of linen examined with appreciation.
“Mrs. Bingley is very good,” Martha said. “Ruth, look at this soft linen. And somebody has been putting flowers upon it.”
“That was my contribution,” Elizabeth said. “The gowns were ours when we were little. My mother kept them for Jane, and Jane thought a child who could wear them now ought to have them.”
Martha ran a finger beside the little flowers. “Then we must take good care of them.”
Ruth brought the baby from the adjoining room. The baby was plump and bright-eyed, with one stocking working its way off a determined foot. Elizabeth set down her gloves and offered to mend this difficulty while Ruth took the parcel.
“She will have it off again, miss,” Ruth warned.
“Then we shall begin as enemies and see whether friendship is possible afterward,” Elizabeth replied.
The baby regarded the stranger solemnly while Elizabeth eased the stocking over her heel. With the task accomplished, she caught at Elizabeth’s finger and held it against her mouth.
“That appears hopeful,” Elizabeth said.
“She has just been fed,” Ruth explained, smiling. “You must not think we have starved her.”
Martha drew a chair forward. Elizabeth sat, and when Ruth asked whether she would like to hold the child, accepted with a pleasure she had not anticipated. The little girl was heavier than she looked. Her body settled warmly against Elizabeth’s arm, and her breath came in little comfortable sounds while she examined the ribbons upon the gown before her.
Elizabeth looked down at the baby’s open, curious face and tried to imagine Jane holding her own child. All the little gowns and anxious discussions would end in someone like this: warm, heavy, and quite uninterested in how much trouble had been taken to prepare for her.
“Jane will like to hear about you,” she told the baby.
“How old is she?” Elizabeth asked.
“Five months, miss,” said Martha.
“And her name?”
“Anna,” Martha replied.
“Anna Hargreaves?”
“Yes, miss.”
Martha answered readily, but Elizabeth noticed the glance that passed between her and Ruth. Elizabeth hoped she had not sounded as though an introduction to a baby required the scrutiny of an introduction at an assembly. To cover any awkwardness, she described Jane’s occupation that morning and her wish that the linen should be put to use.
