Chapter 11 #2
“That says it all,” Mrs Bennet snapped, “though why you refuse to write down that you are the most beautiful girl in the county is beyond me. Who could ask for more?”
“Indeed, who could? Let us explore that topic.”
Jane added another heading labelled REASONABLE EXPECTATIONS, while Elizabeth watched her mother to see if she was likely to faint.
“Let us begin with fortune. Dowries are not quite as vulgar as they sound. At first blush, they sound like a gentleman buying livestock; but in truth, a dowry brings something from the woman’s family to pass on to her heirs, so they have a portion of their maternal family’s fortune.
It is a way for parents to pass their fortune to all their children—male and female.
It is odd and inefficient, but it is how it is done, correct? ”
She looked around, daring anyone to contradict her.
“Miss Bingley’s dowry is ￡20,000, or about 4 years’ income for her guardian.
Miss Darcy’s is ￡30,000—about three years’ worth.
Miss de Bourgh’s is also about three years’ worth of Rosings’ income.
Mama’s dowry of ￡5,000 would have been at least 5 years of Grandfather Gardiner’s, though most of it came from our great-grandmother.
None of these guardians will make any bones about paying out that amount, and Uncle Gardiner says such sums are typical in their circles. ”
She paused to ensure everyone followed. Bennet sat in detached amusement, while Mrs Bennet grew confused and cross.
“All this means that Mr Bingley could reasonably expect a bride to bring 2-4 years of her father’s income.
He could seek the daughter of a country squire, like us, or a woman from trade.
Any family higher in the gentry is probably beyond his reach because of his current social status.
Someone like Miss Darcy would be out of the question.
That suggests Mr Bingley could expect a bride to bring ￡5-20,000. ”
Mr and Mrs Bennet looked distinctly uncomfortable, but Jane added it to her list and carried on relentlessly.
“He wants to leave trade and become a landed gentleman, so he could also expect some reasonable connections. They might not be very important, but he could reasonably expect them.”
She added that to the list.
“Suppose he comes into the neighbourhood and meets a lady. He cannot ask what her dowry or connections are, so he assumes they are typical. Perhaps they are not quite what he could expect, but at least what might be expected from an estate such as this.”
Surprising everyone, Jane pulled out Lizzy’s calculations, made with Mary before the great mud-bath incident, and spread them out.
“Lizzy showed me how dreadfully easy it would have been to save ￡4-8,000 for each of us with just a bit of economy and diligence on our parents’ part. Charlotte and Maria have at least something. Even the Long nieces have ￡1,000.
Jane held the paper up so everyone could see.
“Had we that dowry and a decorous family, it would be short of what the man could get, but adequate. If he really esteemed the woman and liked the family, it could work.”
Jane stared at each person in turn. “Here is what he actually found.”
She added a new heading to balance the positives, with the heading NEGATIVES, and a line beneath it: -No dowry at all.
“Let us add a mercenary mother who spent the entire evening of his ball boasting about how her daughter captured him, how she would be the next mistress, how handsome his ￡5,000 a year was, how he would be expected to find husbands for her sisters, and on and on and on; all within hearing of his much more sensible friend—despite her second daughter’s greatest efforts to teach her some decorum, or at the very least, stop her self-sabotage. ”
She held her mother's gaze and continued relentlessly.
“Let me repeat a few of your exact words, if I may. ‘What is Mr Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing he may not like to hear.’”
Jane seethed. “Tell me, Mother, what man would want his friend to attach himself to a family after such an exhibition? He would be derelict in his duty if he did not at least report the conversation and suggest caution.”
“In addition to the vulgarity, Mr Darcy would calculate that whoever marries one of us has a better than even chance of supporting a spendthrift mother-in-law for years after her indolent husband dies, and likely some spinster daughters as well.”
Sadness and resignation crossed Jane's features. “Let us add younger sisters who give every sign they will disgrace the family before another year is out, because neither parent has the desire or fortitude to check them, and both constantly interfere with their more sensible sisters’ efforts. They flirt constantly and publicly, drink too much, and are complete strangers to decorum. Only two sisters behaved decorously at the ball. Is it any wonder he might have been convinced against me, either by his own inclinations, his friend, or his sisters, who never approved of us in the first place?”
Elizabeth blushed. “Make that one, Jane. I spent most of my dance with Mr Darcy arguing.”
“I monopolised the pianoforte to the point where Papa needed to drag me away to allow others to exhibit,” Mary said. “I fear none of us helped your cause.”
“Perhaps neither of you was perfect, but your indiscretions were like a hangnail when you have been shot. I hold no rancour towards either of you.”
Jane turned to her parents, her voice strident.
“25 years you have been married. 15 years you have known you suffered an entailed estate and no heir. In that time, you have not saved a farthing for your ultimate demise. You have not lifted a finger to make certain your daughters are well settled. You just blindly depended on either luck or my beauty.”
Jane leaned towards her parents and pointed at the final chart.
“Let us say it in words.”
She started writing furiously.
“Mr Bingley may not have seen all this, but Mr Darcy would. His sisters are horrid snakes who would try to talk him out of courting me using every trick they know, but he would not listen. However, Mr Darcy could and probably did convince him to at least look at the situation rationally.”
Jane blew out a resigned breath. “At least now, we know. Mr Bingley left because marrying me would be ill-advised, and that is the truth.”
She directed a hard glance at her parents and another at Kitty and Lydia.
“This suitor escaped. The next will too. When the Gardiners return to Town, I will go with them and find a husband. Suppose I meet a promising tradesman. He will not expect a big dowry, he will not meet the most ill-behaved of you until the wedding, and we will see you rarely after that.”
She took the pencil and marked her chart, speaking as she went.
“I saved a small amount of my allowance to use as a dowry, as has Lizzy. We both pledged some time ago that the first of us to wed could use all our savings. A minor tradesman will see more benefit in a gentle-born wife than a rich man would, so if I remove the objectionable parts, I stand a better chance.”
She tore off the part of the page with the reasonable expectations for a gentleman like Mr Bingley and the negatives her hypothetical suitor would be unaware of, and added one small positive: +Modest Dowry.
Her lesson complete, she left the table and went to her room.