Chapter 25 Transition
Lizzy stood at Jane’s door and tapped as quietly as she could. She leaned close to the wooden panel and listened. There was no sound. Perhaps Jane was already asleep. It had been an emotional day.
Then the door opened.
“Come in, Lizzy. You are still awake?”
“Why, Jane, it is only ten o’clock. This is my usual hour.”
Jane stepped aside to allow her sister to enter. “I thought it was much later. This has been the longest day of my life.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth answered, “it has been that for me as well.”
She stepped farther into the room.
“Jane, how do you go on? When you parted from Mr. Bingley, was his manner much altered? Do you suppose he is distancing himself, lest he give you too much power over his heart? Or perhaps he has retreated, fearing he might soon become irrevocably entangled by his very pointed attentions?”
Jane looked down at her hands.
“Oh, Lizzy, I have had all those same thoughts, but when I recall his dear face, there was nothing of coldness written there. There must be some mistake. He was so taken with me, and I with him. It was not one-sided.”
“No,” Elizabeth agreed, “I observed mutual affection.”
“I have written to Miss Darcy, and we shall hear from her within the week. If she does not mention the Bingleys herself, I will inquire more directly in my next letter. For now, all we can do is wait.” Elizabeth moved to her sister’s bed and perched upon the edge of the mattress.
“Jane, we have more practical considerations. Now that Mamma is no longer with us, perhaps we may economize a little and put aside some money toward dowries.”
Jane’s attention was engaged at once. “Yes, Lizzy, we might. We could economize on our meals. Our table need not be so lavish.”
“And for the next twelve months,” Elizabeth added, “we shall not entertain at all, since we are in full mourning, and there will be no one to impress. We can ask Papa to give us the money we save, and perhaps Uncle Edward will invest it for us.”
Jane added, “And Mamma will no longer be throwing away our money at the card parties Aunt Phillips and Lady Lucas were so fond of hosting. She was a dreadful gambler. The only certainty was that she would lose.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied, “there is a saving in that alone. Jane, when I reflect that Papa might have restrained our mother from squandering money all these years, and might instead have secured proper dowries for us, I am overcome with outrage. I am grateful that Providence has seen fit to secure us, through Mary’s alliance with the heir, from being cast out to the hedgerows. ”
Elizabeth stood abruptly and began to pace. “I will ask Papa for Mamma’s pin money and set it aside as well. We could put any money we collect into a separate account until we can give it to our uncle to invest. Uncle Phillips could arrange it for us, if Papa does not care to exert himself.”
Jane looked thoughtful. “Shall we be able to keep Kitty at home, rather than have her wandering the streets of Meryton and flirting with the militia?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth answered. “I will take her out with me when I visit the tenants, and Mary may remain here with you, seeing to the mending and darning. Kitty can be set to do other work as well. Our mother required nothing of the two youngest.”
“She indulged them dreadfully, Lizzy, but we shall conduct this house as we have always wished our mother had done. We shall live more respectably without Mamma and Lydia striving always to have everything their own way.”
“Yes, Jane, it certainly will. It is only a pity that it has come at such a heavy price.”
The following morning, Elizabeth rose early and, taking her book, went out on a long walk. She watched the sun rise from atop Oakham Mount. When the day had brightened, she climbed into her favorite Oak tree and sat down to read. Three hours later, she returned home refreshed and heartened.
When she sat down to her meal, she saw the letter Mr. Hill had placed beside her napkin. It was a letter from Georgiana.
Elizabeth forgot her food. With the letter in her hand, she hurried up the stairs, tapped at Jane’s door, and then entered.
“Look, it has come.”
She perched upon the bed, her back against the headboard, while Jane sat up to listen.
Elizabeth broke the seal and read aloud.
April 15, 1811
My dear Lizzy,
How happy I am to hear from you. I had begun to despair that I should never hear from you again, but when I read your account, I understood at once what you have endured, and why you could not write sooner. I am so sorry for your loss.
I cannot imagine all that you and your sisters must suffer, for I have never known a mother myself, yet I remember how deeply I grieved when my father passed, and I think the pain must be similar.
My brother has not yet received my letter, for if he had, he would have come to me by now. I only pray that Cousin Phillip is not so unwell that Fitzwilliam cannot leave his side. You would love Cousin Phillip, Lizzy, as much as I do, for he is personable.
As for the Bingleys, I have heard nothing of them. In general, I should have received a visit from Miss Caroline by now, for she has set her cap for my brother, but since she learned from me that he is out of town for several weeks, she has no reason to call.
If I do see her, I shall ask after Mr. Bingley and the Hursts, for I know you value their friendship as I do.
Lizzy, I long to see you again. I have been quite lonesome here without you and Fitzwilliam. Write again soon.
With love,
Georgiana
Elizabeth set down the letter, greatly disappointed, and turned to her sister. Jane’s eyes were filling with moisture.
Elizabeth leaned toward her and rested her head against Jane’s.
“I am sorry, Jane. I had hoped this letter would bring us news of Mr. Bingley. Perhaps you should return to our Uncle Edward, and then you might call upon the Bingleys and see for yourself how he goes on.”
Jane sniffed and wiped her eyes with the corner of the bed sheet.
“No, it is well, Lizzy. I will not chase after a man who thinks so little of me that he has not even taken his leave.”
Elizabeth was filled with sadness for her sister.
“I suppose you are right. It is not for want of encouragement that he has forsaken you. There is no excuse. I believe I hate Mr. Bingley for the suffering he has caused you.”
Jane shook her head.
“He is among the most amiable men I have ever known. He made no promise to me, Lizzy. It was my own fault, in taking his universal amiability for something more than it was.”
Elizabeth did not answer, yet her silence burned with indignation, for she could not forgive so careless an abandonment of the sweetest woman Mr. Bingley would ever meet.
She was encouraged that her young friend’s spirits appeared cheerful, if the letter might be trusted as evidence, yet Elizabeth soon acknowledged another source of disappointment.
Georgiana had not yet seen Mr. Darcy and therefore had no news of him.
He remained away. At the thought of him, her own spirits declined without apparent cause, and in that moment she understood, with some alarm, that her happiness was becoming too closely bound to that gentleman.
Later that morning, after she had given her father his chest treatments, she sat with him while he drank his hot medicinal tea.
Elizabeth resolved to speak with him of their plans to save for dowries and began to explain the particulars. When she had finished, she fell silent and watched his countenance, waiting for his reply.
“Lizzy, I see that you and your sister have put a great deal of thought into this proposition. It may surprise you to learn that your mother received one hundred pounds each quarter in pin money, which she divided among herself and your sisters. You may set it all aside, except what I have already spent upon Lydia’s schooling. ”
“It is not likely that sufficient funds will be set aside for Jane and yourself, as you will both marry soon; but by the time Mary and the younger girls are of an age to wed, a tidy sum will have been collected.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Papa, I forget that you have been very ill, and you do not know all that has been occurring under your own roof. It may surprise you, and you will be pleased to learn that Mary has caught the attention of your heir. She attended him in his hour of need, and he has received her ministrations with proper gratitude and affection. She confesses that she has fallen in love, and she believes that he loves her in return.”
Mr. Bennet lifted his brows. “Well, this is pleasing news, my girl. There is no better resolution for the entail than to see my heir married to one of my daughters.”
Elizabeth laughed. “None better, sir. And it is especially gratifying, because the daughter in question wishes to marry him for love. Imagine that, Papa. A love match.”
He chuckled. “I am pleased, my girl. It raises my spirits more than anything else could. I have felt the loss of your mother deeply, Lizzy. I was an unconscionable brute toward her, and I can hardly forgive myself for it. But if I can see that all her daughters are comfortably settled, as she always wished, then perhaps I shall have made some amends for my failings.”
Elizabeth took his hand in hers and pressed it.
“Yes, she was always contriving to match one or another of us, much to our horror. She did not possess much discernment in the choosing of a proper suitor, if Mr. Goulding is any example, but she did try.”
Elizabeth sighed. “But what of Mary? If the rector makes her an offer, must she wait until she is out of full mourning before they can marry? What if he loses interest during the ensuing months and marries someone else instead?”
Mr. Bennet considered. “He does not appear a man of changeable sentiments, but why tempt fate? I shall ask him whether Mary has caught his eye. If he admits it, I will ask him to marry her at once, very quietly. We shall forgo a wedding breakfast, lest we shock our neighbors. If the banns are read beginning this Sunday, then by the time he and I are well enough to attend, they may marry and travel directly to his rectory in Kent.”
And so it happened that four weeks later, on the tenth day of May, Mary and Mr. Collins were married in a simple ceremony, with only her father and three sisters in attendance.
Elizabeth sat in the Bennet pew and watched as Jane stood beside their sister, while their father took his place with Mr. Collins, serving as witness to the marriage ceremony.
Her cousin was a tall, well-formed man, and she thought him very handsome.
His hair was the color of dark gold, like Jane’s, and his eyes were blue.
He was as well-spoken and rational as he was pleasing to look upon.
When Elizabeth had the opportunity to converse with him, she found him learned, with a sound understanding of world affairs and the tenets of the Good Book.
He was altogether eligible, and Mary was fortunate to have caught his notice. How pleased her mother would have been.
Now the family stood at the front entrance of the house while trunks were loaded upon the Bennet carriage.
Elizabeth wrapped her arms about her sister’s neck. “Mary, I am so happy for you. You have made a love match. You are a very fortunate woman.”
Mary returned the heartfelt embrace, and neither seemed willing to let go of the other.
“I love you,” Mary murmured. “You were there for us when Lydia threatened our respectability with her indiscretion. We have come through it together, and now we stand on the other side of it, in this happy moment.”
Elizabeth clung to her a moment longer, then turned to Kitty and drew her into an embrace.
“Stay out of trouble, my dear. Listen to your sister, and do all you can to merit a good husband. Keep yourself above reproach, that you may prove worthy of a man like our new brother.”
Kitty sniffed. “Yes, Lizzy, I will.”
Mr. Collins handed both women into the carriage, then turned to his cousin.
“Thomas, I shall return the carriage tomorrow, after the horses have had a night’s rest. We shall see you in six months.”
The remaining Bennets stood watching until the carriage was lost from view.
Elizabeth slipped her arm through her father’s.
“Papa, it was kind of you to give Mary one hundred pounds to purchase her trousseau.”
He patted her hand. “I feel for my daughter. She was forced to forgo her wedding breakfast and to marry under the shadow of her mother’s death.
Yet she has a bright future, not only because she will be mistress of Longbourn, but also because he is a good man who loves her.
The money is only a token of our love. It was the least I could do for her. ”
He stopped walking and struggled to catch his breath.
“I am exhausted. I shall go up and rest, but I will come down for dinner. Every day I feel a little stronger, and breathe a little easier.”
Elizabeth turned to her sister.
“Jane, will you join me for a cup of tea? I will help Papa to his bedchamber and then will be down directly.”
“Yes. I will ring for Hill.”
Elizabeth studied her closely.
“Let us take it outside. You are too much indoors. You have grown pale, my dear.”
When she rejoined her sister a few minutes later, they walked out into the garden and settled at a charming wooden table tucked into a corner, dappled with sunshine.
“We must talk, Jane. You are wasting away for love of Mr. Bingley, who is now lost to you.”
“I know, Lizzy, but I cannot help myself. I cannot eat, I cannot sleep. I long to see him again, to be near him.” She dabbed at her cheeks with a handkerchief. “My only comfort is that he has broken no promise, so I am spared that pain.”
The two sisters passed the afternoon in one another’s confidence, endeavoring to make sense of the difficulties life had set before them.