evening fixing up some arrangements for a
charity bazaar she and Jen are interested in, and she talked most of
the time about Sidney ... for Jen's benefit, I suppose, although Jen
and Sid don't get on at all. They fight every time they meet, so I
don't see why Mrs. Burnett should think things.

"I wonder what he'll do when Mrs. Rennie comes to the Glasgows' next
month," said Mrs. Burnett.

"Why should he do anything?" asked Jen.

"Oh, well, you know there was something between them ... an
understanding if not an engagement ... before she married Rennie. They
met abroad ... my sister told me all about it ... and Mr. Elliot was
quite infatuated with her. She was a very handsome and fascinating
girl. Then she threw him over and married old Jacob Rennie ... for his
millions, of course, for he certainly had nothing else to recommend
him. Amy says Mr. Elliot was never the same man again. But Jacob died
obligingly two years ago and Mrs. Rennie is free now; so I dare say
they'll make it up. No doubt that is why she is coming to Riverton.
Well, it would be a very suitable match."

I'm so glad I never liked Mrs. Burnett.

I wonder if it is true that Sidney did care for that horrid woman ...
of course she is horrid! Didn't she marry an old man for his money?...
and cares for her still. It is no business of mine, of course, and it
doesn't matter to me at all. But I rather hope he doesn't ... because
it would spoil everything if he got married. He wouldn't have time to
be chums with me then.

I don't know why I feel so dull tonight. Writing in this diary doesn't
seem to have helped me as much as I thought it would, either. I dare
say it's the weather. It must be the weather. It is a wet, windy night
and the rain is thudding against the window. I hate rainy nights.

I wonder if Mrs. Rennie is really as handsome as Mrs. Burnett says. I
wonder how old she is. I wonder if she ever cared for Sidney ... no,
she didn't. No woman who cared for Sidney could ever have thrown him
over for an old moneybag. I wonder if I shall like her. No, I won't.
I'm sure I shan't like her.

My head is aching and I'm going to bed.

* * * * *

March Tenth.

Mrs. Rennie was here to dinner tonight. My head was aching again, and
Mother said I needn't go down to dinner if I'd rather not; but a dozen
headaches could not have kept me back, or a dozen men either, even
suppos