Posted in Posted by J. M. Barrie

Hey, it's me again. I know I haven't posted in a long time. I got to get back to writing this puppy. It's undergone a few changes, so I have been working it out with Snick, and I am ready to start writing again. Don't worry, it doesn't affect anything that's already happened. So... here it is. Tell me if Richard's in it too much, I am working on making him a more minor character.

    But in the meantime, let us follow young Judith Waverley home from her call to Jane Berkeley, back to Green Collis, though we were just there, it is now time for dinner. It is sunset; the hillocks swallow up the mighty sun, leaving a stretch of darkness across the wold. Even in absolute darkness, which it is not, the girl could find the way home by the same path she has walked every day since she was a little one. She is anxious, for she does not know the result of Hawthorne’s visit.

    She grabs her long skirts and runs into the house.

    “Good ev’nin’, Miss Waverley,” says the housekeeper, in a shock because of Judith’s sudden entrance.

    “Good evening, Martha. Do you know where Grandfather is?”

    “Ev’ryun’s at dinnah already, miss. Come now.”

    Judith takes the lady’s arm, and, breathing the delicious smell of the pork waiting on the table, appears in the dining room. She realizes she is quite late when she sees the impatient look on old Mr. Waverley’s face, but is too excited to apologize. “Grandfather, Grandfather, what did he say, what did he say?”

    Richard, at the other end of the table, laughs quietly at her jitteriness, and then is silent.

    “What did he say, Grandfather!”

    Taking off his spectacles to wipe them with his sleeve, he thinks for a moment and replies, “I do not know, Judith.”

    “How can you not know?”

    “Well, the fact is, it is too serious a question to be brought up so lightly, dear, and I felt like quite an idiot once he left. He did not give an answer, and how can I blame the boy?”

    “How can you blame him? That’s ridiculous talk, of course you can blame him. He can say yes or no; it is his liberty.”

    “Oh, I don’t think so, my girl.”

    “Why ever not?”

    “You have quite some will, and once you set your mind to something,” he stops and takes a bite of the bread, “you make it nearly impossible to say no.”

    Richard blushes, for he does not understand what they could possibly be talking about; neither Judith nor Mr. Waverley have remembered to tell him how she wishes to marry Hawthorne, because of course it is easy to forget about matters of such little importance.

    “There’s no stopping me? Perhaps that’s right. And he is very handsome, is he not?” Bursting into a fit of girlish giggling, she cannot help herself from becoming very silly about the young man.

    “Dearest, he did not respond. I tried to convince him as best I could. I told him about the land and the inheritance,”

     Richard’s fork drops with a clang onto the plate; Mr. Waverley forgets his grandson is actually at the table when he says the last word. Mr. Waverley glances at him and sees his face is dreadfully pale and his hands are shaking.

    “Oh, Richard, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean that. You know that. I simply meant that he would have, erm, a share of the fortune. He would not be the heir of the plantation, that’s nonsense!”

    “Yes. Of course, sir.” Face remaining colorless, he clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “Of course.”

    “Well, Grandfather, how much longer ‘til he’ll give an answer?” She emits another giggle, throwing her arms up in the air. “Do you know?”

    “I told him he has until next week,” he answers in a low tone, “and then we shall see if he shall be your husband.”

    Judith jerks her head up, like she just remembered something of great importance. “Oh, dear Rick, did we forget to tell you? Ha, ha! I am engaged to Mr. James Hawthorne!” Squealing with glee, squirming in her seat, she turns to her brother, eagerly awaiting an avid response.

    Obviously uncomfortable in this sort of subject, especially when it has to do with his own sister, Richard bites his lip, half-expecting Judith to forget what she has just said and to ask another question to Grandfather, but she does not utter another word. He feels it rude to not respond, he coughs and replies, “You are? Well Judith, I am sure he is a good man and won’t let you down. At least I hope he won’t.” He finishes with a smile and sighs quietly.

    Facing his granddaughter, old Mr. Waverley says, “Child, he has not accepted yet. We cannot know what his decision may be.”

    “But you just said that he cannot possibly say no.”

    “I did not, dearest, I said that---”

    “Good, it’s all settled then. Ha, ha, ha! Thank you so much, Grandfather, good night!”

    “But Judith, you haven’t eaten anything yet.”

    “Good night, Richard!”

    She skips out the room, giggling crazily, and shaking her golden curls, dances upstairs, into her bedchamber, leaving the two alone in the dining room.

    “So, Richard… we have been having nice weather, haven’t we?”

    He does not look up or answer his dull remark; only runs his fork about on the empty plate.

     “It is quiet without Judith. It always is. Very nice for a change, eh? Even if it is for only a few moments. That girl can talk. And giggle.”

    “If you would excuse me sir, I need to speak to go upstairs. Goodnight.” Richard slips quietly out of his seat, into the hallway, and away, as is his customary way of leaving a room.

    “Well, tonight is indeed odd,” says Mr. Waverley to himself, “isn’t it? Ah, I forgot no one is here. No one to talk to except the pork.” He stabs the pig with a knife and cuts a piece.

    ~jm