Chapter 30 (Reverse V) ...

Mary had no idea about her two brothers' secret "complaints" about her. She was busy with something else: submitting articles to "Ladies' Magazine".

Just as Mary had told William before, their hat business had relied heavily on Mary's bespoke services in recent years. The secret of shell decoration couldn't be kept hidden for long, and the Portsmouth hat shops had gradually figured out how these decorations were made.

Having lost this distinctive feature, about three or four years ago, the hats in Taylor's tailor shop could only attract customers by having novel designs, which led to the collaboration between the sisters and Charlotte. However, Mary's inspiration was not endless.

The partnership has become practically defunct. Without novel designs, ordinary hats alone can no longer attract customers, and Charlotte has repeatedly said she's embarrassed to accept any more of Mary's commission.

At the same time, the custom-made high-end hat service brought Mary long hours of physical labor. She often had to get up and move around after working for a while. For Mary, who had already escaped the crisis of survival, it was not worth damaging her health for money.

Seeing that the profits from the hat business couldn't last forever, Mary needed to find new incentives to boost sales, or even find a new source of income. She once again thought of the sewing machine blueprint she had tucked inside her Bible; every time Richard returned, the two of them would talk about their grand plan.

But a distant solution can't solve an immediate problem, so Mary came up with the idea of ​​reusing the materials. Over the years, she had drawn countless hat designs, some of which were commercially successful and had already become well-known. However, some were too trendy and, fearing a lack of market demand, hadn't been produced. If she could reuse these designs, perhaps she could boost sales. Therefore, Mary often spent her time in the third-floor attic organizing her design drafts.

“Mary, Mom wants you downstairs. Mrs. Gregory has invited our family over.” Susan was downstairs sewing clothes for Mrs. Price when Fanny came up to tell her sister.

This was truly terrible news; none of the three Price daughters wanted to accompany Mrs. Price to the Gregory's.

Portsmouth's social scene brought Fanny almost no joy; none of the Prices' circle pleased her. The two Miss Gregorys were old acquaintances, but their previous coldness toward William had already made Fanny dislike them.

The unpleasantness between them had intensified since their last meeting. Fanny neither played the piano nor sang, nor did she discuss any novelties from the Baron's household. The two Gregory ladies felt that she was not much superior to themselves, and that Fanny's personality was even as haughty as her sister Mary's. Fanny, in turn, found the Gregory ladies' usual conversations about officers and balls rather uninteresting.

Mary had always disliked Lucy and Jane's unwarranted wariness towards her. At only fourteen, she was not yet part of society and didn't want to go to Mrs. Gregory's house and endure the sisters' jealousy, suppression, and veiled mockery. Miss Gregory had become even more aggressive since getting engaged, constantly bringing up the topic of her dowry. Miss Jane Gregory was no pushover either. Although the two sisters had received an education, they hadn't used it to enhance their knowledge; instead, they spent their time making friends and engaging in backstabbing.

Susan was also tired of the two sisters. She didn't want to hear Lucy's endless praise of her fiancé, nor did she want Jane Gregory to ask her about her brother William from time to time.

In the end, Susan had no choice but to accompany Mrs. Price, since she was her sister! As she left, Susan sincerely hoped that Lucy Gregory would get married soon; it's always better to have one less person to associate with.

Mary and Fanny, left behind, were quite happy. Their brothers were at school, and Mr. Price wouldn't be back before dinner, so the two of them could do their own thing at home without worrying about being disturbed.

Mary focused intently on writing articles for the editors of *Ladies' Magazine*, using a humorous tone to mock London's monotonous fashion and mentioning her newly designed hat:

"The bulky Rococo hats popular in France decades ago were truly worrying for ladies' heads, while the ordinary styles were tiresome. I think British ladies can unleash their imagination to decorate their hats. Besides being a practical accessory, a hat is also a symbol of personal taste; it should ideally be neither too tall and bulky nor lacking in functionality. Here, I introduce some novel styles to ladies..."

Mary, engrossed in writing her letter, didn't notice her sister coming upstairs. By the time she finished, Fanny had been sitting next to her watching her for quite some time.

“Dear Mary, who are you writing to? I didn’t call you because you seemed so engrossed,” Fanny asked curiously, noticing the sketches Mary had laid out to the side. “What are these for?”

Mary was unsure whether Fanny minded her sister earning money from writing, and was considering whether to mention that she had written to Miss Maxwell when she suddenly heard Fanny exclaim, "Aren't these the styles of the hats you sent to Cousin Maria? Didn't your two cousins ​​pay you to find that secret designer to buy hats?"

It was truly a case of "misfortunes never come singly." Before one secret could be properly concealed, an even bigger one was exposed. Mary awkwardly explained to Fanny, "I'm sorry, Fanny, actually I am the hat designer."

Fanny felt dizzy. Her sister, Sir Thomas's niece, was actually charging her cousin money for making hats. How could she face her uncle, who had even sent Mary money for this in the past?

Thinking of the allowance Sir Thomas had given her during her trip to Portsmouth, Fanny felt even more upset: "Oh, Mary, this is a mistake. Since you designed those hats, how could you lie to your cousin and say they were designed by a French noblewoman in exile..."

Fanny had no idea that her sister was going to such extremes. She never suspected that this was her sister's business tactic and simply thought that Mary shouldn't use deception to get her cousin's money.

“But I haven’t hurt anyone. My two cousins ​​and their friends aren’t unhappy with the hats, so why should they know who designed them? Knowing the truth would only cause them unpleasantness.” Mary didn’t want her actions to put her sisters on a moral pedestal.

"I was just telling a white lie. Whether I bought them or designed them for them, I didn't have any money myself and had to ask my cousins ​​for it. As long as they got the new hats they wanted in the end, that's all that matters. Dear Fanny, you can consider this money as a return gift from my cousins."

To expect Fanny to be persuaded by Mary's words would be to underestimate her wisdom. However, she is gentle by nature and always willing to understand the inconvenience of others. She is even less willing to regard her beloved sister as an ungrateful person.

On the one hand, she considered her uncle and two cousins, feeling that Mary's behavior was a deception. The affection between relatives should not be tainted by the exchange of money. Moreover, out of sisterly affection, she would not voluntarily reveal everything to her uncle Sir Thomas and her two cousins. Her morality made her feel even more apologetic towards her uncle and her two cousins.

On the other hand, she couldn't help but defend her sister Mary in her heart, thinking that it was already a miracle that a fourteen-year-old girl could grow up to be the way Mary is now, given that her parents were so unruly. The family was in such a state because of her two sisters, and since no one had properly taught Mary (Fanny selectively ignored Mary's godfather and school education), it was understandable that she would do wrong things.

Mary took Fanny's arm with both hands. Usually elegant and dignified, she looked at her sister with bright and affectionate eyes, her rose-like lips constantly pouting. Who could bear to continue scolding her when they saw that beautiful and lovely little face?

After her younger sister repeatedly promised that she would never again actively try to sell hats to her two older cousins ​​(after all, Mrs. Rushworth and Miss Julia Bertram were so captivated by the various pleasures of London that they hadn't thought of the hat designers in Portsmouth for a long time), Fanny quickly softened.

“It’s good that you understand. Your uncle has helped our family so much. It’s never too much to repay his kindness.” Fanny sighed as she said this, because she realized that she had also disappointed her uncle—she had gone against his wishes and had not agreed to marry Mr. Crawford.

Fanny didn't confide in her fourteen-year-old sister, keeping her sorrow hidden deep inside. The thought of Edmund's departure for London, coupled with the postman's knocks making her restless, led her to stop asking Mary what letter she had written.

Now she desperately needed to stop her overthinking by reading. Mary had quite a few books here, and she remembered her original purpose for going upstairs: to borrow a book from her sister.

No one can solve the emotional problems a young girl in the prime of her life has encountered. Throughout history, countless young people have been perplexed by this, and Fanny is just one of them. And what is our Mary thinking?

The fact that this matter was resolved so easily today made Mary feel somewhat uneasy. Unlike the timid Fanny, Mary had never learned to be tolerant deep down.

Miss Williams's targeting of Mary back in the girls' school wasn't purely because of her looks, but because Mary's eyes never showed any sign of resignation. Miss Williams had heard too many stories about what would happen to beautiful girls who refused to accept their fate, and for Mary's "good" sake, she had to treat her even more harshly.

Fanny's gentle attitude made Mary finally understand why men always want to find a gentle wife. If she had a wife like Fanny who was gentle and considerate to her and always willing to believe in her, she would feel very happy.

Now, she left the attic for her sister to read in and went to mail letters herself. *Ladies' Magazine* accepted anonymous submissions, which was convenient for female writers like herself. Mary thought to herself, hoping her article would be accepted. Just then, Mrs. Price and Susan returned from the Gregory's house. Judging from their expressions, their visit had clearly not been pleasant.