Chapter Two
Even during the worst grief and pain, Miss Elizabeth Bennet exhibited those flaws that were central to her character and that would come to be most dearly loved by those who loved her best: stubbornness, love of life, and, if I may be excused for using the term, blindness towards certain considerations that others would see as paramount.
She never agreed with those who thought that she would have been more fortunate if she had died.
That Elizabeth ought to regret her own survival was an opinion that she heard frequently while she was resident at the house of her Aunt and Uncle Phillips, before Fitzwilliam Darcy arrived at the ruins of the only home she had ever known to take her to a distant northern land that she would never see.
The first time Elizabeth overheard this notion was after the doctor announced to Mr. and Mrs. Phillips that she was not going to die, probably, and that it was certain that she would not regain her sight.
Mrs. Phillips exclaimed, “A terrible pity! She would have been a beauty. And look at her now. It would have been better for her if she had died!”
The doctor murmured in reply.
“Better if she had died! My poor sister’s child. Useless and scarred. She’ll never ever marry!”
This consideration did not have the effect on Elizabeth that it ought to have.
At eleven years of age—almost twelve—Elizabeth Bennet had no enthusiasm for the state of Holy Matrimony.
Instead of sighing over gentlemen with fine comportment, she dedicated her considerable capacity to reading books, listening to her father talk, running about outside, climbing trees, getting twigs and leaves in her hair, acquiring grass and dirt stains for her dresses, and ignoring her mother’s lectures upon the deficiencies of her behavior.
These lectures always ended with, ‘Oh, what shall I do with you! You will never marry, and then what will I do?’
Now Elizabeth could no longer read. Her father was dead.
Her sisters, except for Jane, were dead, and she could not even run while blind.
At this time, Elizabeth assumed it was now impossible to climb trees, though in the future she would find that this was not correct.
Elizabeth even wished that she could bring her mother back just so that Mama could scold her.
It would have been natural if she had despaired.
But rather than asking herself, ‘what is there for me to live for’ and correctly seeing that the answer was ‘very little’, Miss Elizabeth spent her time intensely bored while forced to stay abed by the conspiracy of Mrs. Phillips and the quack who treated her.
Obviously, a little exercise would be good; couldn’t they just let her walk about a little and start figuring out how to navigate without being able to see anything? That sounded difficult and interesting. Lying in bed, unable to see anything was dull, dull, dull.
A week later Elizabeth heard once again that it was a terrible pity that she had made the social mistake of living while blind, scarred, and a burden, when her uncle Mr. Gardiner visited. Elizabeth had always liked Mr. Gardiner far more than Mrs. Phillips.
Mr. Gardiner was half as well read as Papa and Mr. Darcy, he had a sense of humor, he liked to notice and smile at the ridiculous, but despite that, he was always sensible, courteous, and kind to those around him. Papa was not. And Mr. Gardiner was known for cleverness and hard work.
After hearing of the tragedy from Mrs. Phillips, Mr. Gardiner immediately dropped all of his business and travelled from London by post so that he could be present.
However, though this excellent gentleman would have preferred to be near his niece until it was known if the infection would kill her or not, he had established himself in an independent business less than a year prior, and many matters were still in need of constant and minute supervision by the master to prevent them from falling apart.
Thus, after two days in Meryton, he regretfully returned to London to oversee the unloading of a shipment of West Indies sugar in which much of his capital was invested, and the transfer of the sugar to the refiner who had given him the contract.
His intention had been to return after three days, but during those three days Elizabeth took a decided turn for the better, and his business a decided turn for the worse when the firm that he had meant to do business with went suddenly bankrupt.
It was only after two weeks that Mr. Gardiner had settled his business satisfactorily by managing to sell the sugar to a new company at a small premium to what he had expected to be paid by the original purchaser.
Elizabeth’s health had improved so far that she was only confined to the bed by the strict orders of the doctor, who insisted that after her illness she must have a full month of enforced stillness to avoid severe negative consequences.
This sounded like nonsense to Elizabeth, and during the nights she quietly paced about her room when her acute ears detected that the whole house was asleep.
Elizabeth did exercise some caution, in that she seldom left the room, as she had been most severely scolded after she woke everyone the second time she left the room, when she stumbled over a chair set in the hallway.
It was quite unfair, Elizabeth thought, that they were so focused upon protecting her health from further harm when her aunt and the housekeeper agreed that she was an unfortunate creature who had suffered a fate worse than death.
If they had real concern for her, they might sit in the room and talk to her or read a book aloud.
Alas, both women declared themselves much too busy when Elizabeth had gone so far as to suggest they do so if they would not let her walk about or go downstairs.
Mr. Gardiner’s visit provided a break from the monotony of lying about, unable to see anything, or do anything, or talk to anyone, or play any games, or even feel the wind on her face.
One of her eyes could still tell the difference between when the sun was out and when it was very cloudy, and between that and when it was completely dark.
Of course, Mr. Gardiner was not perfect.
He agreed with Elizabeth that the whole was very unfair, and that it was unfortunate that they were keeping her in bed, and while he refused to agree with her insistence that all doctors were quacks (a statement Papa had made many times), and replaced that notion with ‘some doctors are decent, even though most are quacks’, he did not argue with Elizabeth’s view that their Mr. Jones could easily be confused with a duck.
Despite that, he encouraged Elizabeth to follow the instructions, to stay in bed and not exhaust herself, and to mostly do as she was told.
Adults always agreed on that, even when they were sensible ones whom she liked.
Even Papa had encouraged her to attend more to Mama and Mrs. Hill and everyone else who admonished her to be cleaner, more ladylike, and to less frequently tell their guests everything she knew about the Roman Republic from the books she’d read with Papa.
But, out of kindness to Mr. Gardiner, who had been the first one to be kind to her since she’d been trapped in this bed, Elizabeth agreed that she would not be too much of a bother for Mrs. Phillips.
Following this Elizabeth was reminded of Kitty, Lydia, Mama, Papa and Mary, and she valiantly avoided sobbing—which still hurt as the wounds in her face and around her eyes were not wholly healed.
Then Elizabeth enjoyed her favorite part of the visit, when Mr. Gardiner told her about his own business.
He told her all about the woman whom he was to marry in a month, and how sweet she was, and how much he liked her.
Mr. Gardiner talked to her about the difficulties that had kept him in London the past two weeks, and how in the end he had found a buyer who paid even more than the original one would have—the fears he had about if his business would succeed or fail, taking with it all of his capital, and he talked with her about the process of establishing his warehouse, finding customers, and obtaining the goods that he sold at a decent price.
Elizabeth suspected that Mr. Gardiner told her all of this because he was not quite sure how to entertain her. But she was grateful for being treated as a person who could be interested in serious matters.
There was nothing in his voice of that hesitance to speak to an unfortunate personage, or Mrs. Phillip’s way of talking to her overly loud as though she’d been made stupid rather than blind.
Afterwards, Mr. Gardiner read to Elizabeth from Robinson Crusoe, and she fell asleep listening. She wished she could always have someone around who would read to her.
When she woke up it was still daylight. Elizabeth worked her way out of the bed, and with a hand against the wall, she carefully walked towards the drawing room. She carefully felt with her steps and shuffled so that she would not trip on anything left and be forced to return to her bed.
It was so hard to stay still!
Legs, arms, the muscles in her stomach, her shoulders, every part of her body was desperate for exercise. She would start shaking and then blow up like a steam engine whose outlet had been blocked if she did not find some way to move.
Even when she paced in her room, it barely felt like exercise, because of how slow she needed to go to keep from tripping.
Did the doctor expect her to lie in her bed until she rotted? Simply because she was now blind? Was this how he meant to get rid of her?
Elizabeth wanted to spend more of the time with Mr. Gardiner. And it was unfair that they meant to keep her in bed. Unfair. When her whole family was already dead.