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Post by Mr. Darcy on Jan 20, 2009 14:12:41 GMT -5
His gaze returned to the flowers in question, his eyes thoughtful. "I was just wondering if they're not... too cultivated," he said with a slight hesitation. "Is that what the White Sands needs? Cultivation? Or something more... accessible?" He was trying, very hard, to think from another point of view but his own. He did not mean that Avonlea lacked sophistication, but merely that in his own life roses were quite de riguer and signified little--he could only imagine it may not be the same for everyone, even if he could not imagine what it might be life.
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Post by Anne on Jan 20, 2009 14:15:54 GMT -5
*Anne cocked her head to one side, considering the flowers.*
"You do have a point."
*Anne bit her lip and began fussing with the roses, her brow furrowed.*
"No, you're right. We need something else. ...Peonies? June lilies? Daisies?"
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Jan 20, 2009 14:28:57 GMT -5
Darcy was fairly pleased about having a point, but hid it well. "I confess I know very little about them," he said. "Which is why I desired your help; I want to tell the people who come that White Sands is cultured without being... alienating. Accessible, but not exactly in the ordinary course of things."
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Post by Anne on Jan 22, 2009 11:53:10 GMT -5
"The June lilies, then. They're common enough, but people like them," *said Anne after thinking a moment.* "They're not showy, they won't stand out...but they're pretty in their own way, and comfortingly familiar."
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Jan 22, 2009 13:45:51 GMT -5
Darcy nodded.
"If you think them suitable, I'm certain they will be," he said, relieved. Really, decor was far too much responsibility. And he was self-aware enough to know he couldn't speak for others, when it came to taste. Even if he knew what he liked, and considered it superior.
But he liked the lilies well enough; they seemed slightly exotic, but may seem less so, here.
"And not too many, I think," he mused. "Enough to accent."
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Post by Anne on Jan 23, 2009 11:24:57 GMT -5
"I agree. The trick of any decorating is knowing when to stop. What colours were you thinking of?"
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Jan 25, 2009 13:12:35 GMT -5
Darcy blinked.
"Um," he said inelegantly, because he was thinking about Anne's hair, and what colors would go well with it, and that was a foolish, foolish thought. However cordial she had become in his company, it was not to be wished that she would ever transcend cordiality as respected himself. "Well. What would you recommend?"
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Post by Anne on Jan 25, 2009 20:21:05 GMT -5
"Well...white is as good a place as any to start with--it matches everything. Then there's...pink...yellow...red...orange..."
*Anne bit her knuckle, trying to make herself be quiet. Quieter, anyway. Mr. Darcy was clearly already tired of her prattling and no doubt he wished he'd never asked her to help.*
"...simplest is best, I suppose. It shouldn't be more than three colours. White...and red...and then if we could get some cornflowers, we'd have the colours of the flag," *she pointed out.* "Patriotism is patriotism, Mr. Darcy. Rather than worrying about the differences between England and Avonlea, perhaps we'd do better to look for the similarities."
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Jan 26, 2009 11:04:10 GMT -5
Darcy smiled slowly. In truth, he was delighted by her prattle; it was never purposeless, not really, and it balanced his own reticence nicely. Georgiana was not much of a talker, either, and the Darcy household benefited from added conversation, in his opinion.
"That's a charming notion," he said. "If you think it will be taken in the appropriate spirit; I should hate to be dismissed as an old-fashioned imperialist."
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Post by Anne on Jan 26, 2009 20:08:45 GMT -5
*Anne's eyebrows shot up, a bemused smile stealing across her expression.*
"Mr. Darcy, please. You're on our playing-field. It would take a great deal for Avonlea to feel really threatened by you."
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Jan 26, 2009 22:39:02 GMT -5
Darcy's head ducked slightly with something that almost resembled sheepishness, though far more proud.
"No doubt," he said. "You quite rightly call me out, Miss Shirley. I'm glad you're here."
He supposed he did still take a quite broad view of his own importance, even if he had never asked for it.
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Post by Anne on Jan 26, 2009 22:47:55 GMT -5
"Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much about the wrong things?" *asked Anne.*
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Jan 26, 2009 22:52:15 GMT -5
He did not take offense--merely furrowed his brow slightly for effect.
"I don't suppose anyone has had the courage to," he said. "What, in your opinion, are the proper subjects for worry?"
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Post by Anne on Jan 26, 2009 23:30:27 GMT -5
"Well, consider how many people stand to be injured by something...and to what degree. Now...if for some reason, the flowers are a disaster and the public's opinion is affected as a result...well...only your pride may be bruised, and not very much, I think."
*Anne crossed her arms with an air of triumph.*
"Not much to worry about. Now--if it were a hard winter, what then? Crops might fail, harvests might be poor, the young and old would get sick. A great deal more pain for a great many more people. So long as one's going to worry, it might as well be about something worth it."
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Jan 26, 2009 23:49:14 GMT -5
Darcy did not smile at her defiant pose. "Perhaps I prefer to worry about that which I can effect--and the task in front of me at the moment," he offered. "I have no control over the weather, or the crops--though should they fail, I might then worry about what my part in alleviating the suffering might be."
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