“Fitzwilliam! Thank you!” Elizabeth said, pocketing the letter. “Now I shall have to invent an excuse to leave the room so I may read it in privacy.”
“Exchanging love letters already, Lizzy?”
“Please,” Elizabeth said to Mr. Darcy with exaggerated annoyance, “tell me Miss Darcy is not as impertinent as Lydia.”
Darcy, catching her tone, said dryly, “I cannot imagine Georgiana's being described as impertinent by any of her acquaintance.”
“I am relieved to hear it.”
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy shared a smile and then both looked at Lydia, who grinned back at them, bold and unembarrassed as ever.
Perhaps Lydia was hoping for another romantic display like the one she had come upon in front of Papa's library. As much as Elizabeth would enjoy the repetition of certain actions with Fitzwilliam, she would not give her sister the satisfaction of observing them embracing twice in one day.
Mrs. Bennet soon entered the room and shepherded them all to dinner. “We need not wait,” she explained. “Charlotte sent a note. Mr. Collins is to dine at Lucas Lodge.”
Fitzwilliam sat near Elizabeth and therefore near her father, and as the meal progressed, Mr. Bennet seemed more inclined to include him in conversation. Elizabeth listened to the men on either side of her speak of ordinary things and imagined their ease with each other would only grow with time, and that scenes like this would be commonplace before long.
“Sir,” Mr. Bennet said as the last of the meal was finished, “you may as well join me in my library. As I have told my family more than once, I am prepared to meet with folly in every room of the house but that one, and I perceive folly is something you may be entirely without.”
Elizabeth and her father both started when Mr. Darcy laughed. “That,” Darcy explained, “sounds very much like something your daughter said to me at Netherfield.” Darcy looked at Elizabeth, and she knew she must be blushing as she remembered that absurd argument about faults. “As I told her then,” Darcy continued, “perhaps that is not possible for anyone.”
“I shall risk it. I can always send you back to the ladies should you prove too nonsensical.” Mr. Bennet's smile made it clear he knew such an outcome would be no punishment.
Elizabeth soon slipped away from the others and shut herself in her room. She pulled out the letter and read:
Dearest Elizabeth,After reading the letter through to her satisfaction, Elizabeth put it away and readied herself to endure an evening of insufficient privacy and teasing relations.
I have not been inclined to praise silliness before, but if that is what compelled you to write, then I must consider it. I believe this is the first love letter ever requested of me. Today is a day of firsts.
In fact, it may be the first hour in the whole of my acquaintance with Miss Bingley in which she has realised any expectations she has of me are futile. You chose your messenger well, for he stood admirably against Netherfield's hostess and ensured that I received your last.
Can you care for me already, Elizabeth? You have me positively giddy, my love. It is quite abhorrent.
Speaking of abhorrent things, I wonder if the mention of another lady in a love letter to one's own qualifies as such. Please accept my humblest apologies if this is the case, and know that you may exact what punishment you will. Require me to dance at the next assembly. Demand that I procure for you an expensive trinket from an exclusive London shop. Place me next to your cousin Collins at dinner if you must. I shall bear it all without complaint, for the fault is mine. I will even promise, when we are assured of privacy, to soothe your affronted sensibilities and demonstrate just how little attention I have to spare for ladies who are not you.
I cannot be entirely pleased with this first effort of mine, but I am very pleased with you, my dear, and I hope to have many opportunities in future to perfect the art of telling you so in writing.
In anticipation,
Fitzwilliam
The next day, Lydia and Kitty proposed to walk into Meryton after breakfast to enquire after Mr. Wickham, abuse him roundly for missing the Netherfield Ball, and make him promise to dance with them at the next ball, whenever that might be. Elizabeth, always eager for exercise and having no Fitzwilliam currently at her side to distract her, went with them. Elizabeth felt, too, that her younger sisters ought not to be in company with such a man without some protection and intended to offer what she could. She guessed that Jane, to whom she had imparted something of Mr. Wickham's history, felt similarly, and a few quiet words between them confirmed it.
Mr. Wickham had indeed returned from town. He met the Bennet ladies before they reached their aunt's house, and he and another officer accompanied them there. Mrs. Phillips was out, but Kitty and Lydia did not wish part with the gentlemen so soon, so the two girls talked determinedly and eagerly of the ball as the party stood together on the pavement.
Mr. Wickham, after expressing his regrets at missing the delightful entertainment, separated Elizabeth a little from the others and confessed that his absence on Tuesday night had been self-imposed. He was saying something about not wanting to risk being so long in the same room with Mr. Darcy when that very gentleman was seen riding towards them.
“Lizzy, look!” said Lydia.
They all turned.
How odd for the scene of the previous week to repeat itself! Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Wickham, and this time she was certain his reaction was one of fear. She lifted her hand in greeting to Fitzwilliam, and when he was near enough, with no attempt to modulate her voice, she said to Mr. Wickham, “It is lucky for you that we are, at present, not in a crowded ballroom, but on a wide-open street. You can hardly be afraid now, with nothing to bar your escape.”
“Escape!” cried Lydia. “Afraid of what?”
Elizabeth nodded towards Mr. Darcy.
“That is just silly!” Lydia laughed and turned to Mr. Wickham. “You are in the militia. You cannot be afraid of anybody!” She stopped laughing when he did not join in with her. “How will you protect us if you are scared of the likes of Mr. Darcy?”
By this time, Darcy had dismounted. He had a fearful scowl on his face, and it was directed at the silent and disconcerted Mr. Wickham. Elizabeth looked back and forth between the two men as Darcy positioned himself near her. She put her arms behind her, clasping one wrist, and tried to control her expression when Darcy stepped closer and slowly trailed his fingers across her open palm. She need not have bothered; Mr. Wickham's gaze was fixed above her head, his attention completely on his enemy.
Before Darcy had the chance to speak, Kitty, who had been whispering with Lydia, said suddenly, “La! Even I am not afraid of Mr. Darcy, no matter that he is rather formidable. How can you be?”
Mr. Wickham's mouth opened, and he stood looking stupidly at the ladies and then back at Darcy. His fellow officer eventually got his attention, and with a grunt of annoyance, Mr. Wickham bowed and strode away. His companion, confused and embarrassed, made their excuses and followed him.
“Mr. Wickham did not even greet you properly,” Elizabeth told Darcy on their way to Longbourn. “I had no idea your old acquaintance was such a coward.”
“I do not believe I have ever seen his charm fail so spectacularly in the presence of ladies before,” Darcy said. “Even my housekeeper at Pemberley, Mrs. Reynolds, has been prone to smile sadly and shake her head rather than scold him, though she has long known him for a rascal and never had patience for his tricks.”
“I wonder what his new friends in the militia will think,” said Elizabeth. “His fellow officer may have more discretion and less curiosity than I imagine, but my sisters surely will not keep today's events a secret. I predict that word will be all over Meryton before the month is out.”
“That is only two days,” Darcy said dubiously.
“Just wait until Mama and my aunt Phillips hear of it.”
Word began to spread as soon as the girls returned to Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet took the carriage, determined to wait in Meryton for her sister. She later reported that Aunt Phillips had heard something of the incident before she had finished her shopping. The Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucases, and it was no surprise to Elizabeth that by then, Maria had heard rumours from a mutual friend and was full of questions. Kitty and Lydia were delighted to provide the details; indeed, they could talk of little else. Mrs. Bennet took part in the discussion once she had worn out the ears of her hostess on the subject of her daughter's engagement. Elizabeth was relieved to see that Charlotte kept Mr. Collins too engaged in their own conversation to pay much attention to anything being said between Mrs. Bennet and Lady Lucas.
On Friday, a note was delivered from Netherfield to inform Elizabeth that Darcy, regretfully, had to attend to his correspondence and could not promise to call. While Elizabeth was not happy, she was at least pleased that Mr. Collins spent most of the day away from Longbourn and barely returned in time for dinner.
Mr. Collins was to leave for Kent before breakfast the next day, and when he received from his hostess a tepid invitation to repeat his visit, he surprised them all by voicing his intention of soon returning to Hertfordshire. Elizabeth could not imagine why, for his disapproval of her engagement had not lessened, nor had his habit of expressing it when they were in company together.
“I wonder why he speaks of a quick return,” said Mrs. Bennet after Mr. Collins had retired.
“Or any return at all,” said Kitty with a grimace, and Lydia groaned.
“I only offered him hospitality out of politeness,” Mrs. Bennet said. “I never expected he would accept!”
Elizabeth laughed at her mother's expression. “None of us expected it, Mama,” she said. “His presence has been very trying, and he does not seem any better pleased with us than we are with him.”
The following morning, Longbourn was provided with happier company in the form of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley.
“I concluded my business early and arrived at Netherfield last evening,” said the latter. “I hope my calling now is not an inconvenience.”
“By no means, sir,” said Jane, whose pleasure clearly had overcome all reserve.
Mr. Bingley turned from Jane a moment to offer Elizabeth hearty congratulations. She thanked him and then asked the gentlemen, “Did you time your approach so as to avoid having to farewell my cousin?”
“I would not deny it, were it true, but Mr. Collins was hardly on my mind,” replied Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bingley's attention was already directed elsewhere.
Elizabeth watched fondly as Jane and her suitor settled into conversation and ignored the rest of the room, as was their wont. Her own suitor seemed bent on securing a modicum of privacy as well, and soon she was no more aware of the general goings-on in the parlour than Jane or Bingley.
Charlotte called some hours later and succeeded in pulling Elizabeth away for a private word. Her news was astonishing.
“Engaged to Mr. Collins! My dear Charlotte—” Something stopped Elizabeth from saying more. Had she not, only days ago, endured her father's initial incredulity and disapproval over her own engagement? As silly—as insufferable!—as Mr. Collins was, her friend was a very sensible person and must have a good reason for having agreed to marry the man. She simply must!
But how could a woman who would pledge herself to such a pompous, narrow-minded man have a proper way of thinking?
It struck her that her father's reaction had been very like this. To him, Mr. Darcy had seemed full of conceit, and Mr. Bennet had thought Elizabeth out of her senses to have accepted him. Mr. Collins was not Mr. Darcy, to be sure, but the remembered pain of those moments in her father's library, his lack of trust in her and the threat of the loss of his esteem, made her think twice before giving pain to her friend.
“I see what you are feeling,” Charlotte said.
“I am feeling many things,” Elizabeth admitted. She sifted though them and extracted what she hoped would express truth without offence. “One of those things is that Mr. Collins will be made happier than he deserves. You, my friend,” she said with a little laugh, “are far too good for him.”
She must have struck the right note, for Charlotte's shoulders relaxed. As Charlotte's explanation went on—she had never been a romantic; she only wanted her own home; her chance of happiness was fair enough, considering Mr. Collins's situation in life—Elizabeth could only hope her friend's expectations would be favorably answered. Mr. Collins was rather a large mistake to make, if he was a mistake where Charlotte was concerned. He would have been in her case, undoubtedly. Jane would probably find an excuse for the match or say that Charlotte's temper would allow her to bear a life with such a man, but then Jane would wish to believe there could be something like esteem or even affection between Charlotte and Mr. Collins, and that Elizabeth thought to be impossible.
Elizabeth offered her best congratulations under the circumstances, which proved sufficient. They talked a little longer of how rapidly Charlotte's engagement—and Elizabeth's, for that matter—had come about, and how soon they might expect similar news regarding Jane.
When Sir William came to confirm Charlotte's communication and celebrate the new connection between their houses, Mrs. Bennet's lamentations, though not her incredulity, were just barely checked by the presence of her daughters' suitors. They were almost completely done away with later that same evening by the announcement of Jane's engagement to Mr. Bingley.
Time flew for Elizabeth as November gave way to December. The Bennet ladies were kept busy with wedding preparations and social obligations.
Mr. Wickham, it appeared, quickly wearied of the curiosity and open ridicule of his Meryton neighbours, for he soon left in search of a happier situation. It was generally said that he had fled the presence of Mr. Darcy. Darcy, merely by correcting Wickham's misrepresentation of their history, gave enough of a hint of the latter's character to assure the town they could well bear the loss of the one soldier who had deserted them.
Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley also left Hertfordshire. Mr. Bingley's sisters made a surprisingly creditable attempt to appear pleased at the news of their brother's engagement and even that of their brother's friend, but Miss Bingley's determination to spend the winter in town provided relief to all concerned. Mr Bingley and Mr. Darcy were then free to dine at Longbourn every day if they wished it, and they often did so whenever one of the other local families did not insist on sharing the burden of showing hospitality to the two gentlemen.
That there would be little inconveniences and vexations in the weeks leading up to the wedding was to be expected, but Mr. Collins's visit was the only real trial. Before December was half gone, the heir presumptive of Longbourn returned full of pride and self-importance, for Lady Catherine herself conveyed him thither.
That day, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were in the parlour with Elizabeth and some of her sisters when a commotion was heard in the hall. “Where is that impudent upstart?” said an unfamiliar, unpleasant voice. “Take me to her at once!” Elizabeth could then hear Mr. Collins giving an answer, but her attention was arrested by the expression on Darcy's face. He had such a look of distaste and indignation as she had never seen on him before.
A tall, grey-haired lady in ostentatious dress burst into the room with Mr. Collins striding in behind her, looking quite satisfied with himself.
Darcy stood at once and glared at them both. “Lady Catherine,” he said, ire in every syllable. “What business have you here?”
“I had come to deal with whichever of these girls,” said the lady, looking about with scorn at each Bennet in the room in turn, “has caused you to abandon family duty and good sense. However, since you are here, I need not bother with her.” She gestured impatiently. “Come, Darcy, and leave this place.”
“I think not,” he said.
Lady Catherine stared. Mr. Collins began stammering and spouting his poorly arranged ideas.
While those two were thus occupied, Darcy turned to Elizabeth and her sisters. “Ladies,” he said quietly, “please excuse me and, if you can, pardon this gross incivility. I hope to rejoin you before long.” With a nod to Bingley and a parting look at Elizabeth, he escorted his dumb-struck aunt back to her carriage. Mr. Collins followed, talking the whole way.
Bingley whispered in Jane's ear and then excused himself. Jane came over at once to take Elizabeth's hand.
Lydia sprang up and ran to the door to eavesdrop, no doubt. Kitty followed. The two of them rushed back and forth between the front of the house and the parlour, listening and relaying bits of the conversation to the others.
Lady Catherine did not remain silent for long. The squawk of protest when Darcy made it clear that he was not leaving with her was heard by them all. Lydia and Kitty brought them accounts of the rest: Lady Catherine would not brook disappointment; Darcy must come with her back to town and set a date for his wedding to Anne; Darcy could not be lost to all reason; that penniless nobody would never be mentioned by any of his family.
What Darcy said was of greater interest still: He could not imagine ever insulting Elizabeth by disregarding their engagement; Elizabeth would be his wife; even if Elizabeth were to break off the engagement after seeing what manner of undesirable relations she would have to contend with, he would never, never marry Anne.
The noise eventually drew the remaining Bennets to them—Mrs. Bennet from her conference with the cook, Mr. Bennet from his beloved books, and ink-stained-fingered Mary from her extracts—and for a brief time, to the breathless reports of Elizabeth's younger sisters were added the cacophonous inquiries of the others. Mr. Bennet then left the room to ascertain the situation for himself. Mrs. Bennet, caught between her desire to behold so great a personage as Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her determination to avoid Mr. Collins if possible, was persuaded by her daughters to wait until her husband returned.
When Mrs. Bennet's agitation abated, Elizabeth's restlessness increased. “I ought to be with Darcy,” she said. “It is on my account Lady Catherine is here.”
“Do stay,” begged Jane, pressing Elizabeth's hand. “Mr. Darcy looked mortified when he made his excuses! I believe he would have given anything to spare you discomfort. He will know best how to manage his aunt.”
Elizabeth could only acknowledge Jane's opinion to be quite sensible, but she was glad nonetheless when the question was rendered moot in a moment with the return of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet.
“Where is Bingley?” Jane asked.
“He is with your cousin, who will stay at the inn. Bingley has a gift for smoothing ruffled feathers, where I fear I only disturb them further.”
“I am glad he has been of help to you, as he wished.”
Darcy smiled kindly at Jane. Then he turned to Elizabeth with a look of something like trepidation. “My dear,” he said to her, “I do not know how you can forgive me.”
“Nonsense!” Elizabeth said, taking his hand and pulling him to the sofa, where they sat down together. “I rather believe my thanks are in order.”
“I brought upon you needless trouble in the form of my aunt.”
“You made sure I had as little trouble as possible! And she brought herself, I dare say, or my cousin did.”
“Then I sent your cousin away when I had no right to do so!”
Elizabeth laughed. “No one here will reprove you for that,” she said. “Will they, Papa?”
“Hardly,” Mr. Bennet said with a touch of amusement in his voice. “Certainly not when he agreed to cover the cost himself. Do you think Mr. Collins would have given up free room and board so readily? He could not apply to his patroness. Lady Catherine, upon leaving, did not spare him a thought beyond having his trunk removed from her carriage.”
“I considered it an insult for him to expect to be welcomed here after what he dared,” Darcy said.
He looked so adorably chastened that Elizabeth could not help herself. She reached up to hold his face, pressed her cheek to his, and kissed him just below the ear. “Now that is more than I ought to do in company, so I will stop before I scandalise Mary or encourage Lydia's flights of romantic fancy.”
“Bless you, dear Elizabeth,” Elizabeth heard him whisper, but she did not doubt everyone else heard him, too.
“Come, Darcy, and have a drink in my library.” Mr. Bennet led the way, and Darcy followed.
Some two hours after the storm had blown over, Elizabeth happened to see Charlotte walking at a brisk pace towards the house and went out to meet her.
“Eliza,” Charlotte said after pausing to take a breath, “where is your Mr. Darcy? I hope he is here, or I shall have to go on to Netherfield. I must apologise to both of you.”
“Go on to Netherfield?” Elizabeth laughed, bemused. “That sounds unlike you, Charlotte. You speak as if you are not tired already, or as if Netherfield is just beyond the kitchen garden! But there is no need. Darcy is here, playing backgammon with my father. Come with me. You are in quite a state!” She took Charlotte to an unoccupied room, where they could talk privately.
Charlotte held out until the door was closed behind her. “I do not know if I have ever been so angry! I almost threw him over that instant, Eliza! I!” Her voice was quiet but intense. “After all these years, I finally have the chance to marry, and he ruins it!”
It all came pouring out. Mr. Collins called at Lucas Lodge, complaining of the infamous treatment he had suffered at the hands of his relations. According to him, Lady Catherine de Bourgh had been very ill used by these same relations, who had induced Mr. Darcy to betray his aunt and cousin. After a great deal of praise of Lady Catherine, censure of Mr Darcy, and disparagement of the Bennets, Mr. Collins insisted that Charlotte give up the acquaintance of her dearest friend. Charlotte had kept her voice low throughout the recounting, but the unevenness of her tone and uncharacteristic pauses betrayed the depth of her feelings.
“I grew more and more appalled with every word he spoke. By the time he took a breath I was furious.” Charlotte took a breath herself. “Give up my friend? I would sooner give him up! After all, he was stupid enough to offend not only the family that had welcomed him into their home, but also their future connection, who is very likely wealthier and grander even than Lady Catherine, despite having no title. Instead of being pleased to be cousin to Mr. Darcy and trying to help Lady Catherine to weather her disappointment, he presumed to interfere in a matter that has nothing to do with him.”
Charlotte stopped and stared at her hands.
“I do not know what to say, Charlotte,” Elizabeth said.
“You need not say anything,” Charlotte told her. “I know you did not agree with my decision to accept his proposal.” She exhaled and looked up. “I had been so pleased with myself, Eliza, so satisfied with what I had done! I had gained an establishment, and I was able to do it without causing you any harm, even though Mr. Collins had lately been pursuing you. I only determined to try to secure him after I knew of your engagement. I was further encouraged when your sisters showed no interest in him, not even Mary, who I thought might like being a parson's wife.”
“No, even Mary had wearied of him by the time he left us in November. She was irritated by his frequent complaints and his refusal to accept the fact of my engagement. She considered him a poor loser, I think.”
“He is that. I had not realised it until now. I recall he said he had given up his idea of finding a wife among his cousins, but I thought it was just delicacy. He had paid you such marked attentions that it might have been awkward to turn so soon to one of your sisters. Now I think he simply must have been angry with you for accepting Mr. Darcy and with your father for supporting the engagement. It seems obvious, but I was so focused on securing my own future that I did not see it.
“It may be all over now, but I hope you know I never meant to gain at your expense. I should have noticed and not interfered if there had been the chance of a resolution more to the advantage of you all. I can only be glad you and Jane have found men of means—and of character!—and will not need to rely on Mr. Collins.”
Elizabeth was reassuring Charlotte that she had not harmed anyone by the name of Bennet when the door opened and Mrs. Bennet joined them.
“Lizzy, is Mr. Darcy still here? Why are you not with him? Oh.” Mrs. Bennet stopped when she noticed Charlotte there. She did not look particularly pleased.
Elizabeth wondered if her mother did feel injured by Mr. Collins's choice of wife despite the two wealthy sons-in-law she was to gain in a few weeks. She supposed she could understand a little, in a way; she and Jane had always expected to leave home for the best of reasons, but in their mother's case, tragedy alone would remove her from Longbourn. Charlotte's engagement could only remind her of that.
Charlotte stood and said, “Mrs. Bennet, I heard a great deal about what happened here today. Please allow me to offer the apology Mr. Collins will not. I am sorry he felt the need to involve himself in what was no business of his. From all I have learnt of Lady Catherine and her expectations of her nephew, I do not know if you would have been able to avoid her open disapproval entirely. However, it was not the place of Mr. Collins to make it easy for anyone to insult you, and in your own home, no less, when you did nothing to earn it.”
Mrs. Bennet appeared somewhat mollified by Charlotte's words. “I dare say it is just as well that you called instead of Mr. Collins. If Mr. Darcy sees him try to enter the house again, there is no telling what will happen.”
“Mama!” Elizabeth cried. “You make it sound as if Mr. Darcy is a violent man.” Really, her mother's delight in the dramatic would have been entertaining if the situation had not been so serious.
“Well, I will say no more of him,” Mrs. Bennet said with a look at Charlotte, leaving the girls in no doubt as to which man she meant. “He is to be your husband, after all.”
“But that is just it, Mrs. Bennet. I do not know now if I can marry him.”
“But if you cry off—”
“I know! My parents will be ashamed and angry. They have been so happy about my engagement! My sisters' futures may be affected. And I may never find a husband.”
They all three were quiet for a moment.
Then Charlotte continued. “As I told Eliza, when I saw that Mr. Collins no longer intended to seek a wife at Longbourn, I thought I might finally have the chance to marry. And I was right! Eliza had Mr. Darcy, and Jane had Mr. Bingley, and there seemed to be nothing between Mr. Collins and any of the younger girls. When he proposed to me, I felt at liberty to accept.
“We do not have many opportunities in our neighbourhood, as you know. I am twenty-seven and cannot afford to ignore what falls so neatly into my lap. You, Mrs. Bennet, did so well by marrying Mr. Bennet, and your sister married Mr. Phillips and kept your father's assets in the family. Some of the girls my age were half in love with your brother years ago, but we had no money or connections to tempt him, and he had to make his way in the world, which he has done with great success. My mother also did well, for my father was eventually knighted and able to retire from business.
“But what will happen to us, those of us in need of husbands now? For a long time, things did not look very promising. And then—” She sighed. “I felt my good fortune, and it pleased me to think that even in looking after my own interests, it would mean that eventually—forgive me for alluding to it—you and your daughters would have a friend at Longbourn, should you ever have need of one. I know there is a constant competition of sorts between you and my mother, but there is also real friendship and real feeling, and that same friendship exists between the daughters. I would not betray it—certainly not renounce it—even for the sake of a comfortable home, and now I suspect that home would not be very comfortable after all.”
“Hmph!” said Mrs. Bennet, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room, and she patted Charlotte's shoulder. “Hmph,” she said again. “You are a good girl.”
Elizabeth examined her friend's face and suggested that she rest. Charlotte, looking tired and relieved, gave her a thin smile. Elizabeth settled her in the room that, ironically, Mr. Collins had lately inhabited.
Meeting her mother in the hall some minutes afterward, Elizabeth said, “I shall speak to Mr. Darcy and see what can be done.”
Mrs. Bennet looked heartened by this. “Yes! He will know what to do.”
Elizabeth did not know what anybody could do, but she felt certain of Darcy's sympathy and any assistance in his power.
I hope you continue with this.
ReplyDeleteThere's not much left (as far as I know). I've been working to finish it up and hope to have the remainder posted before the month is out.
Delete