Page 21 of Introducing Mrs. Collins
‘I do not know,’ replied her daughter suspiciously. ‘What is it?’
‘My goodness, have you so little trust in my taste?’
‘No! You may dress yourself, but you do not know whatIlike.’
‘Then let me show you. Would you like to borrow this for tonight? When I knew you would wear green, I thought it would suit.’
Lady Lucas held out a gold ring with markings on the band, beset with a small emerald, but there was something a little strange about it. Charlotte took it and examined it more closely.
‘Oh…’ she murmured, as she noticed that the cross-hatching was a nod towards scales and that the clasp of the stone was shaped like the head of a snake; as it joined the other side, the snake ate its own tail. It was rendered discreetly – one could not notice the peculiarities of the design at a glance.
‘It does not seem very like you!’ said Charlotte, impressed. ‘Did father buy it for you?’
‘No! I chose it for myself. Some years ago. It is an ooro… ooris…’
‘Ouroboros,’ Charlotte finished for her, still staring at the ring, engrossed.
‘Yes! That’s it.’
‘It is a symbol of the cycle of life, I think – destruction and renewal,’ said Charlotte, falling into her scholastic mode. ‘Eternity.’
‘Is it?’ said her mother, grinning at her daughter. ‘I just liked the snake.’
Charlotte smiled back at her.
‘You and your books!’ said Lady Lucas, as she rose and started checking Charlotte’s hair.
‘I promise not to speak too much of antiquity or the classics to potential suitors, Mother,’ Charlotte said wryly, fiddling with the ring.
‘Well, but do you wish to wear it? That was my object!’
‘I do,’ said Charlotte. ‘I really do.’ She slipped it on and danced her fingers around in a little flourish, enjoying the sight. ‘Thank you. Oh, it complements my dress!’ she exclaimed with pleasure.
‘Yes, I know!’ replied Lady Lucas. ‘That was my rather my intention in offering it! Honestly, Charlotte, have some faith in your old mother.’
They both looked into the mirror, her mother standing behind her, proud and nervous. ‘New beginnings, you say?’ said Lady Lucas, lost in a moment of deep reflection.
‘Not quite, no; it’s more of a cyclical—’
‘Oh, heavens!’ Lady Lucas laughed, exasperated. ‘Never mind! Come, let us go downstairs – your father is waiting.’
‘So, Lady Lucas, this is your eldest, and what a pleasure to see her! Has she been out long?’
‘I thank you, sir,’ replied Charlotte’s mother. ‘Tonight is her first formal occasion.’
‘She is a credit to you. What a well-presented young lady.’
‘She is fond of dancing, sir, if your legs grow restless.’
Mr Weatherby laughed and nodded but made no reply.
The evening had started off well – Charlotte was asked to dance immediately, by the handsome son of a family friend. They did justice to a cotillion, but he did not request a second. She was asked after that by an older gentleman, a widower, who said during the dance that she reminded him of his daughter, which Charlotte did not feel entirely comfortable with. She was not approached for the next, or the next. She felt a little embarrassed – she had come very ready to dance every dance, as most of her friends had during their first evenings out.
It was ten o’clock before Charlotte was asked to dance again and that was by her cousin, Frederick, who was fourteen and had not yet learnt his limbs. He was not tall enough to perform someof the required steps with her and kept staring at her bosom. It was a chance, however, to be seen on the floor, and she took it.
After that, she danced with a very elegant gentleman called Mr Bailey. There was some chatter from her mother after this, but Charlotte had gleaned enough from his manner and conversation that he was not entertaining romantic thoughts at present – not towards women, at any rate. She then waited out three dances until there was a chance to play the piano instead. She started making her way to the unoccupied pianoforte, ignoring the disapproving looks of her mother. Once seated, she began to play a sprightly country reel, a piece to allow others to dance and allow her to fade into the wallpaper, to be a fixture and not an ornament. She played for the next few dances, until it was very late. She started to wish she were wearing white or pink or another more ordinary colour, to blend in with the other young women. She felt rather exposed.
By the time she rose from the piano, half the room had emptied, and hardly any gentlemen remained. Her mother looked rather sad. Charlotte, taking her cue, felt rather sad also.
