Thursday 7 April
The weather is remarkably fine and I am enjoying my holiday. I decided to ask Fanny if she would like to go for a ride with me this morning, but when I went into the drawing-room I found her opening a letter from Portsmouth. I did not like to disturb her so I sat down for a few minutes and let her read in comfort, whilst Aunt Norris busied herself about her sewing and Mama played with Pug.
I was surprised to hear a choked sob from Fanny and, looking up, I saw that she was crying. I went over to her at once.
‘Fanny, my dear, whatever is wrong?’
I took the letter from her hand, as she could not speak, and read the sad news, that her sister Mary had died.
‘What is it? What is wrong?’ asked Aunt Norris.
‘Fanny’s sister has died,’ I told her.
Mama murmured kind words of sympathy, and offered Fanny Pug to play with. It was a kind offer, but Fanny declined it, being too distressed for Pug to cheer, whilst Aunt Norris said only,
‘A blessing for my sister, for she has so many children, she will not miss one.’
I gave her an angry look and took Fanny into the library, where I took her head on my shoulder and let her cry.
‘She was such a pretty little thing,’ said Fanny, clutching her handkerchief. ‘I believe I loved her even more than I loved Susan. She was only five years old. If only I had known! I should have been with her. I could have nursed her. I could have helped Mama to take care of her.’
‘Your mother and Susan looked after her,’ I soothed her. ‘They did all they could. No one could have done more, not even you, my dear. Now dry your eyes, Fanny, do, for I cannot bear to see you so distressed. Your sister is with God now.’
She took comfort from this and her tears changed to healthy tears. I comforted her until her sobbing ceased.
I took pains to cheer her this evening, and, having told Maria and Julia what had happened, and begged their kindness for her, I found them very affectionate. Maria asked Fanny if she would like to help her trim a bonnet and Julia gave her a silver thimble. As I watched them I thought again about making the church my career. I know Papa would like it, for he could give me the family livings, but it is not something I could do without a vocation. And yet I am beginning to think I have one. I found it natural to help Fanny in her time of grief, and though I have a great affection for her that I do not have for other people, I think I could help them, too.
It has also been growing on me that I have a desire to live a good life, and though I would not say so to Tom, for fear of being laughed at, I think it is no bad thing. My father lives a good life and he is respected by everyone around him. I would like to be respected by those around me, too, for if I am respected I can set a good example and help others escape the miseries I see: the drink that has contributed to the poverty of Fanny’s family, so that they cannot afford to keep her, and the idleness and profligacy that are blighting Tom’s life.
Wednesday 13 April
My father is delighted with my thoughts about the future, and he has promised me he will do everything he can to assist me with a career in the church.