Working on color...

[Ullz]

Day 1

An invitation to the ball was dispatched to all the young ladies and gentlemen; and upon arrival it spread pleasure and great expectations for most of the recipients. But some were quite disconcerted. They could not imagine what business of theirs it was to dance, drink, talk with others. They accepted however; not wanting to let other people know how deeply they felt about the whole thing.
Slowly they were beginning to fear that they might be outcasts in good society if they let their true nature be know to others.

In the days to come many of the young woman grieved at the thought of not being asked to dance with suitable young gentlemen. Some of them even dreamt of being asked by unsuitable young men, but they kept these thoughts and dreams to themselves.

On the night of the ball the carriages arrived outside the large hall and the air was filled with excited talking, the giggling of the ladies and laughter of the gentlemen. The season was full, the room crowded, and ladies squeezed in as well as they could. Most of the married men soon found their way to the card–room, and left the rest of the party to enjoy a mob by themselves. Mothers and daughters made their way through the throng of men by the door, as swiftly as the they could without any damage to their dresses.
As the party of the young Bennet-sisters entered the room their saw friends and familiar faces in the candlelit ballroom. The Dashwood-family, Emma Woodhouse and the shy Fanny Price were all present. And to their utter amazement they found that to proceed along the room was by no means the way to disengage themselves from the crowd; it seemed rather to increase as they went on, whereas they had imagined that when once fairly within the door, they should easily find seats and be able to watch the dances with perfect convenience. But this was far from being the case, and though by unwearied diligence they gained even the top of the room, their situation was just the same; they saw nothing of the dancers but the high feathers of some of the ladies. Still they moved on — something better was yet in view; and by a continued exertion of strength and ingenuity they found themselves at last in the passage behind the highest bench. Here there was something less of crowd than below; and hence Miss Bennet had a comprehensive view of all the company beneath her, and of all the dangers of her late passage through them. It was a splendid sight, and she began, for the first time that evening, to feel herself at a ball: she longed to dance.

Couples of beautiful young woman with good-looking and gentlemanlike men were already dancing in the center of the hall; closer to the her were small parties of 2 and 3 talking and even here and there a lonely person stirring at the dance.

For not all had come to dance... or to fall in love... someone was planning to let the zombie come out into the Night and kill!

[Ullz]

Day 2:

After leaving the ball and on arriving at the manor Lydia felt a compelling longing to be in bed; such was the extreme point of her distress of not having danced enough; for when there she immediately fell into a sound sleep which lasted nine hours, and from which she awoke perfectly revived, in excellent spirits, with fresh hopes and fresh schemes. The first wish of her heart was to improve her acquaintance with some of the young ladies (especially those with unmarried brothers), and almost her first resolution, to seek her aunt for that purpose of walking into town where so many of the unmarried gentlemen lived. In the town and in the house of her aunt and uncle, she had already found so many visitors (both male and female) and a constant appearance of both new and old acquaintances, that she was most reasonably encouraged to expect another new friend from within its walls, if she was to spend the entire day at her aunts. Her plan for the morning thus settled, she hurried out right after breakfast to visit her aunt, resolving to remain in the same place and the same employment till the clock struck five and dinner would be served; and from habitude very little incommoded by the remarks and ejaculations of her aunt Mrs. Phillips, whose vacancy of mind and incapacity for thinking were such, that as she never talked a great deal, so she could never be entirely silent; and, therefore, while she sat at her work, if she lost her needle or broke her thread, if she heard a carriage in the street, or saw a speck upon her gown, she must observe it aloud, whether there were anyone at leisure to answer her or not. At about half past twelve, a remarkably loud rap drew her in haste to the window, and scarcely had she time to inform Lydia of there being an open carriages at the door. It seems like Lydias plan was working. But then a servant entered the room, asking permission to ask Mr. and Mrs. Phillips to join Colonel Forster and his young new wife for dinner the next day.
And so Lydias plans were all wasted and she did not grieve in silence.

- I must have a ball and I shall dance at it, she thought to herself. And then she had an idea. If she could only see to it, so that no one would know what she was up to.
She smiled her little crooked smile and she made her way home. Planning her little plan. Not a care in the world. Just wanting to dance all night long.

But others had different plans. Some didn't care for dancing or "getting men for themselves"...
Some wanted to kill and they had all ready made sure that someone was very dead indeed:

Metallic Squink, vanilla, Town, Colonel Brandon, has died.
Anyone wishing to send flowers to the funeral may do so.
May her soul rest in peace (or join us at the spoilers).

Day 2 will end 2010-09-01 4 pm Danish time (where every hour is happy hour). Countdown is here:
www.timeanddate.com/counters/customcounter.html?day=1&month=9&year=2010&hour=16&min=0&sec=0&p0=1408

[Ullz]

Night 1

The ballroom was crowded and people seemed to be everywhere. The air was filled with the smell of cigars and perfume and the room echoed from the sound of people talking and laughing.
As Isabella Thorpe looked up while dancing she saw the crowd moving even closer to the rail at the upper balcony of the room.
She didn't pay much interest.
She was dancing with a handsome young gentlemen and why would she care if the crowd moved or not. She smiled to the young Henry Crawford, unmarried and with an estate in Norfolk.
Her deep blue silk dress swung beautifully as they danced around the floor and she felt the eyes of everyone as she suddenly heard a strange noise.

- What was that?, she asked her dancing partner. But he never answered. He looked in shock behind her shoulder. His face was pale and his eyes wide open. He opened his mouth to speak but not a word was heard. Later she wondered if he had said something, that she did not hear from the screams coming from behind her. Slowly she turned around and saw the horrible truth.
Some idiotic person had fallen (or maybe been pushed by the crowed) from the balcony and splashed blood all over her silk dress. She felt appalled. She felt...

She looked at Mr. Crawford to see if he would catch her if she fainted but realized he was still not moving.
Then she felt angry. Who would do such a horrible thing? Who could be so selfish to splash blood and brain matter all over her new silk dress?? And on top of all that - on one - not one - came to help her in this horrible situation.
She felt really upset.
At least the writer could have written the story a bit different. How hard would it have been to write a silly little love story with her in the arms of a gentleman with an estate; he could have standing across the room and seeing her distress and coming to her aid. Then her dress would have been a price worth paying and she could have fallen into his arms almost fainting.
She stepped over the body and walked out to the carriage. On her way out she stopped and learned the identity of the dead.
It was:

[Ullz]

Night 2

Mrs. Elton was very much disappointed. Her introductions and recommendations would all have to wait due to the many unexplained deaths, and every projected party be still only talked of. So she thought at first; but a little consideration convinced her that every thing need not be put off. Why should not they explore the Hill of _________shire? It was settled that they should all go to the Hill. That there was to be such a party had been long generally known: the idea had been given by another. But Mrs. Elton didn't let a small detail such as that deprive her of the honour of the idea nor the pleasure of acting like the hostess.

They had a very fine day for an outing at the Hill; and all the other outward circumstances of arrangement, accommodation, and punctuality, were in favour of a pleasant party. Some of the party chose to walk to the Hill while most of the ladies went in carriages; the rest of the gentlemen on horseback. Nothing was wanting but to be happy when they got there. Seven miles were travelled in expectation of enjoyment, and every body had a burst of admiration on first arriving; but in the general amount of the day there was deficiency. There was a languor, a want of spirits, a want of union, which could not be got over. They separated too much into parties. Walking off on their own and even though Mr. Weston tried, in vain, to make them harmonize better. It seemed at first an accidental division, but it never materially varied. And during the two whole hours that were spent on the Hill, there seemed a principle of separation, between the other parties, too strong for any fine prospects, or any cold collation, or any cheerful Mr. Weston, to remove.
It wasn't until later some from the party wondered if it had been a plan all a long. To separate them like this.

But the fact remained that when they discovered the dead body it was already cold. Leaving them with an uncertain time of death, no alibis and no certain course of dead.

A head smashed in like that could have been coursed by the horse stading close to the body. It could have been an unlucky trip over a root resulting in the heard hitting the nearby rock on the Hill. It could have been the push from behind or even a blow to the head with a branch.

But the fact remained that:

Player X was indeed dead


Please remember Nights are fluff only (in here) and if you have an action: PM it to me or put it in green in the thread provided by the mod.

Night 2 will end Friday 2010-09-03 at 10 am Danish time.
Countdown is here:
www.timeanddate.com/counters/customcounter.html?day=03&month=09&year=2010&hour=10&min=0&sec=0&p0=1408

[Ullz]

Day 3

In the course of Lydia's reflections, she came to a resolution of making her an attempt on the forbidden door alone. It would be much better in every respect that no one should know nothing of the matter; unless she found evidence of who was behind all the strange and unexplained deaths. She thought the examination itself would be more satisfactory if made without any companion and therefore she went alone. Going alone she would be able to search for those proofs of the cruelty, which however they might yet have escaped discovery, she felt confident of somewhere drawing forth, in the shape of some fragmented journal, continued to the last gasp. Of the way to the apartment she was now perfectly mistress; and as she wished to get it over before the others return, there was no time to be lost. The day was bright, her courage high; at four o’clock, the sun was now two hours above the horizon, and it would be only her retiring to dress half an hour earlier than usual.

It was done; and Lydia found herself alone in the gallery before the clocks had ceased to strike. It was no time for thought; she hurried on, slipped with the least possible noise through the folding doors, and without stopping to look or breathe, rushed forward to the one in question. The lock yielded to her hand, and, luckily, with no sullen sound that could alarm a human being. On tiptoe she entered; the room was before her; but it was some minutes before she could advance another step. She beheld what fixed her to the spot and agitated every feature.

Before her lay a dead body on the floor. She tried to scream, she wanted to run. But all she did was fait.
Hours later she was discovered and the body identified as:

Romola, Mason, Town, Mary Benneth

May her soul rest in peace (or join us at the spoilers).



Day 3 will end 2010-09-08 8 pm Danish time. Countdown is here:

[Ullz]

Night 3

Introducing a special guest-writer to you all. The color is delivered with special thanks to the talented Miss Romola:

All of Miss Mary Crawford's vivacity had been required to cheer her dear brother, Henry, that morning. He had come home after the ball a couple of evenings ago in a wretched mood, the whole evening having being ruined by some silly girl falling from a balcony and forcing everyone to leave early. He had been all the more despondent as he had missed the chance to dance with the lovely (but rather common) Isabella Thorpe, who would no doubt soon be dragged off to Bath by her boorish brother. Henry had spent most of the previous day in bed, waking only for kedgeree at mid day, and spent the evening at the inn playing billiards for money. His mood this morning was one of ennui, tempered with an aversion to bright lights and loud noises.

Mary's harp and her quick lively conversation soon began to alleviate poor Henry's boredom and he was quite cheered by the time he rode off to town after luncheon to get his hair cut. Mary settled to her sewing, with the assurance that such a decorous but tedious activity would soon be relieved by a merry visit from one or another of her friends.

Barely 10 minutes after picking up her embroidery, the maid knocked urgently and barely had time to announce the return of her brother before that gentleman was himself in the room.

"Mary, how can I tell you? The news is quite as bad as we could ever have imagined! Poor ________ has had a terrible accident! S/he had been persuaded to go strawberry picking with the Eltons and was afflicted with a terrible fever and vomiting almost immediately! The doctor was sent for, but by the time he came, there was nothing to be done. His/her tongue had turned black and grew to the size of a capon!"


Zuma, Vanilla, Scum, Lady Catherine De Bourgh is dead

Night 3 will end Friday 2010-09-10 at 9 pm Danish time.
Countdown is here:
www.timeanddate.com/counters/cust....0&sec=0&p0=1408

[Ullz]

Scumlynch (male)

Mr. Wickham had quite made up his mind by the next morning to give another fortnight to _______, and having sent for his hunters, and written a few lines of explanation to Colonel Forster, he looked round at his friend Mr. Denny as he sealed and threw the letter from him, and seeing the coast clear of the rest of the family, said, with a smile, “And how do you think I mean to amuse myself, Denny, on the days that I do not hunt? I am grown too old to go out more than three times a week; but I have a plan for the intermediate days, and what do you think it is?”

“To walk and ride with me, to be sure.”

“Not exactly, though I shall be happy to do both, but that would be exercise only to my body, and I must take care of my mind. Besides, that would be all recreation and indulgence, without the wholesome alloy of labour, and I do not like to eat the bread of idleness. No, my plan is to make Miss. Georgiana Darcy in love with me.”

“Georgiana Darcy! Nonsense! No, no. You ought to be satisfied with her little friend, Caroline Bingley.”

“But I cannot be satisfied without Miss. Darcy, without making a small hole in Georgiana Darcy's heart. You do not seem properly aware of her claims to notice. When we talked of her last night, you none of you seemed sensible of the wonderful improvement that has taken place in her looks within the last six weeks. You see her every day, and therefore do not notice it; but I assure you she is quite a different creature from what she was in the autumn. She was then merely a quiet, modest, not plain–looking girl, but she is now absolutely pretty.

His friend gave only a smile, and soon afterwards he continued, “I do not quite know what to make of Miss. Darcy. I do not understand her. I could not tell what she would be at yesterday. What is her character? Is she solemn? Is she queer? Is she prudish? Why did she draw back and look so grave at me? I could hardly get her to speak. I never was so long in company with a girl in my life, trying to entertain her, and succeed so ill! Never met with a girl who looked so grave on me! I must try to get the better of this. Her looks say, ‘I will not like you, I am determined not to like you’; and I say she shall.”

“Foolish fellow! And so this is her attraction after all!"

“It will be so much fun,” said Mr. Wickham; “No, I will not do her any harm, dear little soul! only want her to look kindly on me, to give me smiles as well as blushes, to keep a chair for me by herself wherever we are, and be all animation when I take it and talk to her; to think as I think, be interested in all my possessions and pleasures, try to keep me longer here, and feel when I go away that she shall be never happy again. I want nothing more.”

And so he went a head with his little plan. Not knowing that it would backfire terrible. That it was his heart that would be at risk. Him that would loose the game of love and perish in his attempt to be happy with Georgiana Darcy at his side.
But the day he chose to pick up the pistol and hold it up to his head, this conversation was painfully easy to recall...


captain, Redirector, Scum, Mr. Wickham

May his soul rest in peace (or join us at the spoilers).



Night 5 will end Friday 2010-09-24 at 8 pm Danish time.
Countdown is here:

[Ullz]

Day 4

There was too much wind to make the high part of the new _____ harbor pleasant for the ladies, and they agreed to get down the steps to the lower, and all were contented to pass quietly and carefully down the steep flight, excepting Jane Bennet: she must be jumped down them by Mr. Bingley. In all their walks he had had to jump her from the stiles; the sensation was delightful to her. The hardness of the pavement for her feet made him less willing upon the present occasion; he did it, however. She was safely down, and instantly to shew her enjoyment, ran up the steps to be jumped down again. He advised her against it, thought the jar too great; but no, he reasoned and talked in vain, she hesitated and then replied, "Perhaps I should not...". The a group of people close by moved by her on their way down. She cried out in despair and Mr. Bingley put out his hands; she was too precipitate by half a second, she fell on the pavement on the Lower _____ harbor, and was taken up lifeless! There was no wound, no blood, no visible bruise; but her eyes were closed, she breathed not, her face was like death. The horror of that moment to all who stood around!

Mr. Bingley, who had caught her up, knelt with her in his arms, looking on her with a face as pallid as her own, in an agony of silence. "She is dead! she is dead!" screamed Lydia, catching hold of her husband, and contributing with his own horror to make him immoveable; and in another moment, Mrs. Bennet, sinking under the conviction, lost her senses too, and would have fallen on the steps, but for Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet, who caught and supported her between them.

"Is there no one to help me?" were the first words which burst from Mr. Bingley, in a tone of despair, and as if all his own strength were gone.

"Go to him, go to him," cried Elizabeth, "for heaven's sake go to him. I can support her myself. Leave me, and go to him. Rub her hands, rub her temples; here are salts: take them, take them."

Mr. Darcy obeyed, and Mr. Bennets son-in-law at the same moment disengaging himself from his wife, Lydia, they were both with him; and Jane was raised up and supported more firmly between them, and everything was done that Elizabeth had prompted, but in vain; while Mr. Bingley, staggering against the wall for his support, exclaimed in the bitterest agony --

"Oh God!! Don't let this happen... not to her!!"




Normal Phase, Mason, Town, Jane Bennet is indeed dead!


May her soul rest in peace (or join us at the spoilers).



Day 4 will end 2010-09-15 9 pm Danish time. Countdown is here:
www.timeanddate.com/counters/customcounter.html?day=15&month=9&year=2010&hour=21&min=0&sec=0&p0=1408

[Ullz]

Night 4 - Townlynch


Mr. Knightley was now as happy as all those who best loved him believed he deserved to be; -- in Emma he was consoled for every past affliction; -- her regard and her society restored his mind to animation, and his spirits to cheerfulness; and that Emma found her own happiness in forming his, was equally the persuasion and delight of each observing friend. Emmas father Mr. Woodhouse enjoyed the company of them both. His charitable kindness had been rearing a prime comfort for himself. He might have made her childhood happier; but it had been an error of judgment only which had given him the appearance of harshness, and deprived him of her early love; and now, on really knowing each other, their mutual attachment became very strong.

Mr. Frank Churchill could not hear of her marriage without a pang; and his punishment was soon afterwards complete in the voluntary forgiveness of his aunt, who, by stating his marriage with Jane Fairfax, as the source of her clemency, gave him reason for believing, that had be behaved with honour towards Emma, he might at once have been happy and rich. That his repentance of misconduct, which thus brought it own punishment, was sincere, need not be doubted; nor that he long thought of Mr. Knightley with envy, and of Emma with regret. But that he was for ever inconsolable -- that he fled from society, or contracted an habitual gloom of temper, or died of a broken heart, must not be depended on -- for he did neither. He lived to exert, and frequently to enjoy himself. His wife was not always out of humour, nor his home always uncomfortable! and in his breed of horses and dogs, and in sporting of every kind, he found no inconsiderable degree of domestic felicity.

For Mrs. Elton, however -- in spite of her own marriage and happiness -- the marriage of Mr. Knightley and Emma always made her envy and resentful. She could not bare to hear news about their happiness and good fortune. In secret she planned her revenge.

On a sunny sunday as the church bells could be heard for miles around and people left the church talking and waving to friends and neighbours, she quickly ran up the bell tower and pushed the gargoyle on the south wall of the tower. It had been in need of repair for quite some time and therefore it took her little trouble to get it to fall down in the crowd. Hoping it would hit Mrs. Emma Knightley. Ending her own despair and hurling Emmas family and husband into their very own.

- Look out, someone yelled and through themselves at Emma as the statue made it's deadly way to the ground.

Saving her life with their own.

Dead on the floor lay:

Player, Role, Town, Name

May her soul rest in peace (or join us at the spoilers).



Night 4 will end 2010-09- 9 pm Danish time. Countdown is here:

[Ullz]

Inspired by the post of Auburn toDay:

No one ever stood up for him. They invited him to their houses when they need the extra gentleman at the table. They smiles and greeted him in the street. But somehow they always managed to make him remember that he was not quite good-enough.

But he wanted to belong. To be good-enought. To be one of them.
Yes, he was a cad and a snob, but to be honest, most of them weren't any better and some of them didn't at all have a good nature either...

If they would only see it more clearly. Emma Woodhouse was not only the center of the social life in the best of circles. She could also be perceived as a control freak bent on making matches that made her happy. Emma Woodhouse’s trait was even made clear in a comment she once made:

"And you have forgotten one matter of joy to me, said Emma, and a very considerable one--that I made the match myself. I made the match, you know, four years ago; and to have it take place, and be proved in the right, when so many people said Mr. Weston would never marry again, may comfort me for anything."

It would not appear Emma Woodhouse could be pleased so much that two people are getting married, but that two people were getting married because she deemed it right. An even greater happiness to her was that she was right about Mr. Weston marrying again, proving so many people wrong. While some believe Emma was looking out for Mr. Weston’s happiness, he was simply a pawn in her game.

And the way she had treated him was no better witness to her character. She wishes him to marry beneath his station even though doing so would causes him to be ostracized by his family and peers. This standard had been illustrated in treatment of his second cousin once removed William Elliot when he married a woman of great wealth but lower station. Until his wife died and he began to look for a second wife from his own class Sir Walter Elliot would not socialize with him despite the fact that William was Sir Walter’s own heir. By marrying Harriet Smith, he would risk losing all he had worked to earn in his life.

He had shown Emma Woodhouse his affection and attentions and believed them to be reciprocated. But when he declared his intentions to her she did not react by letting him down gently but with anger that he should feel so toward her when she wanted him to express such intentions toward Harriet Smith. She felt no remorse for her responsibility in the confusion or for hurting his feelings.

Her reasons for wanting Harriet to marry him were not as selfless as they seemed when looking at Harriet’s situation either. In a letter to Harriet she had stated:
“Dear Harriet, I give myself joy of this. It would have grieved me to lose your acquaintance, which must have been the consequence of your marrying Mr. Martin...I could not have visited Mrs. Robert Martin, of Abbey-Mill Farm. “
This quote revealed to him how much Emma Woodhouse herself was affected and concerned about society, as she did not hide the fact that she cannot keep friends in lower stations. It also showed the extent to which Harriet looked to Emma for advice, as she refuses Mr. Martin because she knew it would go against what Emma wanted. Emma abused this power at the expense Harriet’s happiness. Not only did Harriet lose the man she loved, she had almost been forced to go through the motions to try to win him - a man she did not care for and little stupid Harriet Smith had faced humiliation repeatedly as a result. A result of the actions of Emma Woodhouse!!

In addition to bringing to light her carelessness of other’s feelings, it showed Emma to be a hypocrite. She rebuked him for not wanting to marry beneath his station and yet she herslef would give up a dea friend, if this friend was below her station. It seems she was asking him far more than she asks of herself.

And now she was willing to have him be the outcast. The one that had to leave all good sociality.
She would once more be responsible for an others sad faith.
He hated her. Hated all she stood for and he hoped that others would avenge him. That somehow, someday - other would see him for what he was.
Not a bad guy. Not an evil person.
But a man. Playing a game. Trying his best to win!

Auburn, Vanilla, Scum, Mr. Elton

May her soul rest in peace (or join us at the spoilers where we will have fireman waiting to comfort her <-- facebook-mafia-joke, sorry!).



Night 4 will end Friday 2010-09-17 at 5 pm Danish time.
Countdown is here:
www.timeanddate.com/counters/customcounter.html?day=17&month=9&year=2010&hour=17&min=0&sec=0&p0=1408

[Ullz]

Day 5

A very restless and feverish night, however, disappointed the expectation of all; and when Kitty Bennet, after persisting in rising, confessed herself unable to sit up, and returned voluntarily to her bed, Mrs. Bennet was very ready to adopt Lady Lucas's advice, of sending for the apothecary.

He came, examined his patient, and though encouraging Mrs. Bennet to expect that a very few days would restore her daughter to health, yet by pronouncing her disorder to have a putrid tendency, and allowing the word "infection" to pass his lips, gave instant alarm to all.

Lady Lucas, who had been inclined from the first to think Kitty's complaint more serious than the rest of the party, now looked very grave on the doctors report, and selfconfirming her fears spread the word all over town and soon everyone knew that a great tragedy was to be expected.

Poor Kitty, languid and low and feeling herself universally ill, could no longer hope that to-morrow would find her recovered; and the idea of what to-morrow would have produced, but for this unlucky illness, made every ailment more severe; for on that day they were to have begun their journey home, and, attended the whole way by a servant.

The little that she said, was all in lamentation of this inevitable delay; though her mother tried to raise her spirits, and make her believe, as she then really believed herself, that it would be a very short one.

As the Night passed on it produced little or no alteration in the state of the patient; she certainly was not better. Once more a doctor was sent for but he could not tell them any news.
And the patient seems to get worse and worse. The girls in the kitchen started to whisper about poison and the evilness of certain members of the household.

As the sun broke thought that morning Kitty took her last breath of air and passed away.

[Ullz]

Day 6

Between ten and eleven Edmund and Julia walked into the drawing–room, fresh with the evening air, glowing and cheerful, the very reverse of what they found in the three ladies sitting there, for Maria would scarcely raise her eyes from her book, and Lady Bertram was half–asleep; and even Mrs. Norris, discomposed by her niece’s ill–humour, and having asked one or two questions about the dinner, which were not immediately attended to, seemed almost determined to say no more. For a few minutes the brother and sister were too eager in their praise of the night and their remarks on the stars, to think beyond themselves; but when the first pause came, Edmund, looking around, said, “But where is Fanny? Is she gone to bed?”

“No, not that I know of,” replied Mrs. Norris; “she was here a moment ago.”

Her own gentle voice speaking from the other end of the room, which was a very long one, told them that she was on the sofa. Mrs. Norris began scolding.

“That is a very foolish trick, Fanny, to be idling away all the evening upon a sofa. Why cannot you come and sit here, and employ yourself as we do? If you have no work of your own, I can supply you from the poor basket. There is all the new calico, that was bought last week, not touched yet. I am sure I almost broke my back by cutting it out. You should learn to think of other people; and, take my word for it, it is a shocking trick for a young person to be always lolling upon a sofa.”

Before half this was said, Fanny was returned to her seat at the table, and had taken up her work again.

“Fanny,” said Edmund, after looking at her attentively, “I am sure you have the headache.”

She could not deny it, but said it was not very bad.

“I can hardly believe you,” he replied; “I know your looks too well. How long have you had it?”

“Since a little before dinner. It is nothing but the heat.”

“Did you go out in the heat?”

“Go out! to be sure she did,” said Mrs. Norris: “would you have her stay within such a fine day as this? Were not we all out? Even your mother was out to–day for above an hour.”

“Yes, indeed, Edmund,” added her ladyship, who had been thoroughly awakened by Mrs. Norris’s sharp reprimand to Fanny; “I was out above an hour. I sat three–quarters of an hour in the flower–garden, while Fanny cut the roses; and very pleasant it was, I assure you, but very hot. It was shady enough in the alcove, but I declare I quite dreaded the coming home again.”

“Fanny has been cutting roses, has she?”

“Yes, and I am afraid they will be the last this year. Poor thing! She found it hot enough; but they were so full–blown that one could not wait.”

“There was no help for it, certainly,” rejoined Mrs. Norris, in a rather softened voice; “but I question whether her headache might not be caught then, sister. There is nothing so likely to give it as standing and stooping in a hot sun; but I dare say it will be well to–morrow. Suppose you let her have your aromatic vinegar; I always forget to have mine filled.”

“She has got it,” said Lady Bertram; “she has had it ever since she came back from your house the second time.”

“What!” cried Edmund; “has she been walking as well as cutting roses; walking across the hot park to your house, and doing it twice, ma’am? No wonder her head aches.”

“I was afraid it would be too much for her,” said Lady Bertram; “but when the roses were gathered, your aunt wished to have them, and then you know they must be taken home.”

“But were there roses enough to oblige her to go twice?”

“No; but they were to be put into the spare room to dry; and, unluckily, Fanny forgot to lock the door of the room and bring away the key, so she was obliged to go again.”

Edmund got up and walked about the room, saying, “And could nobody be employed on such an errand but Fanny? Upon my word, ma’am, it has been a very ill–managed business.”

“I am sure I do not know how it was to have been done better,” cried Mrs. Norris, unable to be longer deaf; “unless I had gone myself, indeed; but I cannot be in two places at once; and I was talking to Mr. Green at that very time about your mother’s dairymaid, by her desire, and had promised John Groom to write to Mrs. Jefferies about his son, and the poor fellow was waiting for me half an hour. I think nobody can justly accuse me of sparing myself upon any occasion, but really I cannot do everything at once. And as for Fanny’s just stepping down to my house for me— it is not much above a quarter of a mile—I cannot think I was unreasonable to ask it. How often do I pace it three times a day, early and late, ay, and in all weathers too, and say nothing about it?”

“I wish Fanny had half your strength, ma’am.”

“If Fanny would be more regular in her exercise, she would not be knocked up so soon. She has not been out on horseback now this long while, and I am persuaded that, when she does not ride, she ought to walk. If she had been riding before, I should not have asked it of her. But I thought it would rather do her good after being stooping among the roses; for there is nothing so refreshing as a walk after a fatigue of that kind; and though the sun was strong, it was not so very hot. Between ourselves, Edmund,” nodding significantly at his mother, “it was cutting the roses, and dawdling about in the flower–garden, that did the mischief.”

“I am afraid it was, indeed,” said the more candid Lady Bertram, who had overheard her; “I am very much afraid she caught the headache there, for the heat was enough to kill anybody. It was as much as I could bear myself. Sitting and calling to Pug, and trying to keep him from the flower–beds, was almost too much for me.”

Edmund said no more to either lady; but going quietly to another table, on which the supper–tray yet remained, brought a glass of Madeira to Fanny, and obliged her to drink the greater part. She wished to be able to decline it; but the tears, which a variety of feelings created, made it easier to swallow than to speak.


Fanny went to bed with her heart as full as on the first evening of her arrival at the Park. The state of her spirits had probably had its share in her indisposition; for she had been feeling neglected, and been struggling against discontent and envy for some days past. As she leant on the sofa, to which she had retreated that she might not be seen, the pain of her mind had been much beyond that in her head; and the sudden change which Edmund’s kindness had then occasioned, made her hardly know how to support herself.

They never did find out who had put the poison in the Madeira. But it was there and as Mrs. Norris later said, it was really a blessing in disguise that only poor little Fanny Price had a glass of it.

Moody Mitchy, Archangel, Town, Fanny Price, has died.


May her soul rest in peace (or join us at the spoilers).

Day 6 will end 2010-09-28 9 pm Danish time.
Countdown is here: