Chapter 12
Siblings
“Cousin Jane, Cousin Elizabeth, Cousin Kitty, Cousin Lydia… Good day.”
The Bennet sisters were in the parlour after a very awkward breakfast the morning after what they euphemistically called Raging Jane Day.
Mr Collins and Mary had just returned from a walk in the garden.
Bennet had naturally retired to his cave, and Mrs Bennet was above stairs resting—though why rest required smelling salts remained a mystery.
Lydia said, “La, Mr Collins. We will be your sisters in a week. You should use our Christian names.”
The others agreed at once, and Mr Collins smiled hugely. “I would be privileged if you called me William.”
“Thank you, William. We shall be honoured,” Jane said, showing more of her usual good humour.
“While we are at it, may I say that my Mary and I have discussed it, and wish to assure you that, so long as I draw breath, your mother and any who remain unmarried will always be taken care of to the best of our ability.”
Kitty was the first to reply. “We thank you with all our hearts.”
Mary smiled indulgently at her sisters. Pride swelled at her ability to ensure her family's security.
In the 3 weeks since her engagement, she had grown to feel an affection for her intended far beyond what anybody expected; she foresaw a very good life of pride and contentment.
She would obviously have to bring Lady Catherine into compliance, but she could see no further immediate impediments to her complete happiness.
“That was quite a set-down, Jane. How do you feel this morning?” Lydia asked.
Everyone stared at Jane curiously.
“Actually, I am the happiest I have ever been.”
Everyone was perplexed; Kitty asked at last, “How so?”
“Lizzy worked me into last night’s rage—”
Elizabeth gasped, but Jane raised a hand. “You need not prevaricate. I know when I am being manipulated, but I do not mind. In fact, I shall hold you responsible for my happiness.”
“Perhaps more detail might make things clearer.”
“Of course, but I shall need to explain your analogy. You see, Elizabeth correctly worked out that without any knowledge of how things might turn out, I would have taken that man’s departure as a rejection of me personally.
That would have set me on a course of melancholy that might have lasted for months, even without our mother fanning the flames.
It is like a fire of stout oak that can burn for hours. ”
Everyone nodded.
“Elizabeth decided to work me up into a rage, so she set about building a fire out of the same oak, but cut into the finest kindling and soaked in lamp oil. The same wood would burn so hot it might burn the whole village down, yet be gone in minutes, leaving you where you started. Does that make sense?”
Kitty said, “Like ripping a bandage off.”
Lydia helpfully added, “Lancing a boil,” and they were off to the races.
“Eating something disagreeable by stuffing your mouth full and swallowing it all at once.”
“Pulling a rotten tooth.”
Jane laughed gaily and pulled out Lizzy’s ballistic graph.
“All right, all right. You understand me. Lizzy’s analogy was a cannon.
You could point it horizontally and the cannonball would travel a long distance, which we took to mean a long time…
months, probably. If you point it almost straight up, it will go very high, then come down very quickly, close to where it started, so there would be stronger emotions but for less time. I used that one.”
Elizabeth asked, “So, where are we on the curve?”
Jane smiled. “The cannonball went up to the skies last night; it started down again while I thought through a good portion of the night. This morning, my metaphorical cannonball returned to the ground, crashed through a rotten door on an abandoned mine, and fell another mile underground. I am far happier than I have ever been, even during my ill-fated association with that man, because I now have clarity of thought and purpose.”
Lydia cackled. “So, you have clarity! Does that mean you will abandon the sheep act and take revenge? I can hardly wait to hear your plans.”
Jane studied her while everyone else held their breath, but when she spoke, it was as gently as one would expect from Jane Bennet.
“Lydia, you speak truth, so I shall not chastise you, but it would not hurt to learn to speak it more gently from time to time. I was entirely in earnest last night when I said your behaviour could ruin all of us—even William and Mary, who have just promised to keep a roof over your head.”
Lydia gasped, thoroughly affronted, and snapped petulantly, “What do you mean? There is nothing wrong with my behaviour. Mama says so!”
Jane sighed in exasperation and surprised everyone by pouring two glasses of water and fetching an inkpot. “Watch this.”
She shook a few drops of ink into the water. Everyone stared in fascination as the ink dispersed, swirling beautifully as it spread, until the water turned black.
“This is our reputation. All our reputations, which are as closely related as our family ties. It starts clean, but given the wrong actions, it can be tainted in almost no time. The ink permanently colours the entire glass. That water will never be clean again.”
When everyone watched the ink disperse, she picked up the glass and swirled it, making the metaphorical stain on their reputations spread faster. “Swirling is gossip. It speeds the process but does not change the outcome.”
Jane set the glass down and tossed in a button. It splashed and sent ripples across the surface, then slowly sank.
“That button is a minor breach of propriety, the sort of thing Lydia and Kitty do all the time—bad, but not crippling. It leaves ripples for a while and clouds the water on the way down. People pay attention to the splash, but forget it later. Throw in a few, and they sit unnoticed on the bottom. Throw in a dozen, or throw them in too quickly, and the glass seems full of buttons.”
The younger sisters were perplexed, but at least they paid attention.
“Now imagine I dump dirt into the water. Lizzy and Mary have a funny story about that, but we will leave it aside for the moment. I do not have any dirt to demonstrate, but you are all intelligent. Think! What would happen?”
Jane waited patiently until Kitty said, “The whole glass would be muddy for a while, but if you leave it long enough, the dirt would all settle at the bottom. The water would never be entirely clean again, but it would not be especially muddy—unless you disturbed the mud on the bottom.”
“Well done, Kitty. That is how most propriety violations play out. The result depends on how much the glass is stirred by gossip and innuendo, and how much dirt you start with, but eventually you have a reputation somewhere between pristine water and mud. Your three elder sisters’ reputations are nearly pristine—nothing but a few buttons and a little mud on the bottom.
You and Lydia are throwing dirt in every day. ”
“La, Jane. You are making something out of nothing. We are just having fun. We are buttons at worst.”
“Perhaps, and perhaps not. When everyone knew you, that was probably true, because our neighbours are accustomed to girls' silliness, and you were not all that much sillier than average. You may even be better than Lizzy was at 15. However, that changed with the arrival of the militia. I can assure you, some of the officers are inkwells disguised as buttons. They flirt because Mama invites them to eat. They eat a tenth as well at mess, and they cannot afford better. It is worth putting up with some prattle to be well fed and entertained.”
Lydia stared but said nothing.
“However, Lydia, I can assure you there are things a man would take from a woman, given the chance, that can ruin her life forever. Your constant flirting, and competitions with Kitty to be even worse, will almost certainly send the message that you will do more than flirt. I can assure you there are men who would be most willing to supply all the ink it takes to turn that glass black as night. Be warned, sisters! Your behaviour can cast a very long shadow.”
Lydia huffed. “You exaggerate. We are just having fun, and we know the difference between dirt and ink.”
“Marsha Blackburn was just having fun. Did it turn out well for her? Do you even remember her?”
Kitty and Lydia gasped. “But we would not… we would never—”
When they ran out of words for the first time in history, Jane leaned forward and spoke forcefully. “She would never, either. All she did was some innocent flirting and decided to meet a man alone—deliberately… just to have a bit more fun. It ended very badly, as you may recall.”
Kitty asked, “Is that truly what you think of us?”
Jane considered the question for some time.
“It is not what I feel. You are my sisters, and I love you, but when Lizzy forces me to think rationally for a time, I can see a road to ruin, and you are both toying with it. I suggest you leave it, because it is a very steep road with a cliff at the bottom. Once you start down the slope, it is nearly impossible to get off.”
“Truly?”
“I am sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, but that is the world we live in.”
The two youngest sat in contemplative silence, and Elizabeth and Mary were content to leave the conversation in Jane’s hands. It was far from their first attempt to educate their younger sisters, but perhaps Jane’s outburst had placed the girls in a listening mood; nothing else ever had.
At length, Jane said, “Let us examine it from a different angle. Who is the happiest couple you know? I do not mean the richest, best situated, most consequential, or handsomest—who is happiest?”
Lydia thought a moment, and finally suggested, “The Gardiners, I suppose. It is certainly not our parents. They can barely stand each other. The Lucases are somewhat better, but still not especially happy, I think.”
Kitty said, “I never saw it before, but Lydia is right.”