Chapter Six
After breakfast, they took a quick carriage ride to the cobbler in Meryton, since everyone needed new shoes.
What they’d worn to the ballroom would not stand up to life in a cottage.
Their feet seen to for the time being, that afternoon found Elizabeth seated again in the parlor, sewing in hand.
All three of her younger sisters were similarly employed, though Lydia sewed for their mother, not herself.
Mrs. Bennet sat on the sofa with Mr. Bennet, heads together as they made a list of what might be reasonably purchased in Meryton, what must be ordered, and what they must do without, and allocated funds to each.
Elizabeth, listening to her parents converse reasonably, had to keep reminding her fingers to stitch, being so stunned that she kept stopping.
“I do believe, as we will not be entertaining here,” Mrs. Bennet was saying, “that we might purchase from the finest set Mr. Milton carries.”
“But if we aren’t to entertain, having agreed the cottage is far too small for anything but our closest acquaintances to visit you for the occasional tea, why do we require fine china?” Mr. Bennet replied, but his tone held curiosity rather than condescension.
“Because we need far fewer settings, and so can afford to buy finer ones, and once we rebuild, we can add to the set and still have use of it, the settings being worthy of a finer home and grander events.”
Mrs. Bennet made perfect sense. Elizabeth realized she’d stopped stitching again and resumed. She wanted the petticoat taken in and hemmed so she might wear it tomorrow. With the weather so cold and damp, and space near the kitchen fire limited by the room’s small size, drying the wash took days.
“Well, then, the finest Meryton has to offer it is,” Mr. Bennet said, sounding slightly surprised by the words he spoke. “I believe we have enough on our list for today. I’ll call for the carriage. Would any of you girls care to join me and your mother?”
“Me,” Lydia cried, springing up.
“And me,” Kitty added.
Mr. Bennet looked to Elizabeth, who shook her head. She’d far too much sewing to do, both for her and her father. He then, appearing a touch reluctant, turned to Mary.
“No thank you, Papa. I’m to go to the Lucases to practice on their pianoforte. Lady Lucas said I may join Maria in her lessons for now.”
“Very well.” Taking the list that he and their mother had crafted, Mr. Bennet stood and left the parlor.
Mrs. Bennet, humming cheerfully, began gathering up the writing implements.
“I believe, because I’m the only one who saved any ribbons from the fire, that I should give them all to you, my sisters,” Lydia said as she stowed her sewing.
The world truly had gone mad, Elizabeth mused.
“And as a reward for being so generous,” Lydia continued, “I should be permitted to buy all new ones.”
Face angled to her work, Elizabeth smiled. Apparently, the world wasn’t going that mad. Lydia still thought only of herself.
“But I want new ribbons, too,” Kitty whined, rolling the stockings she’d been darning into a ball.
“My old ribbons would be new to you,” Lydia said.
“Bring me down a bonnet,” Mrs. Bennet requested as Kitty and Lydia stood.
“Which one, Mama?” Lydia asked.
“It hardly matters, dear. Everyone knows there’s been a fire. They won’t hold an unmatched bonnet against me.”
Eyes wide, Lydia nodded. She and Kitty hurried from the parlor, bundled sewing in hand, heads together as they whispered, undoubtedly about their mother. Mrs. Bennet stood and carried the writing implements to a narrow cabinet set against the back wall, the only such furnishing in the house.
As their mother closed the cabinet, a knock sounded on the front door. Mrs. Bennet turned with a frown. “That cannot be the carriage already.”
Mary, seated near the window, twitched the curtain aside to peek out. “It’s Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and three footmen bearing packages.”
Mrs. Bennet’s frown deepened. In the hall, the other of the two remaining maids, Sarah, passed the parlor doorway on her way to answer the knocking. Elizabeth and Mary quickly bundled away their sewing, Elizabeth hiding hers behind her chair.
The front door opened, Sarah murmuring a greeting.
“Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley,” Mrs. Hurst’s imperious voice said. “We’ve come with gifts for the lady of the house. Where shall we have our men put them?”
“I’ll ask, Ma’am,” Sarah said. A moment later, she appeared in the parlor doorway.
“I can’t imagine they need much,” Miss Bingley said in the entrance hall. “There’s no room for anything.”
Before Sarah could voice the question, Mrs. Bennet sailed past her, chin high and face composed. “Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley, how very kind of you to come. Please, have your men bring those in here. There should be room for the packages and the two of you as well, if barely.”
Did her mother mean the veiled reprimand, Elizabeth wondered. Mrs. Bennet was never so subtle.
Mrs. Bennet entered the parlor, followed by the two ladies, both wearing hats topped with ridiculously high ornamentation. Elizabeth and Mary stood to exchange greetings while the three footmen piled boxes before the low table in the center of the room. Sarah hovered in the doorway.
“Please, sit,” Mrs. Bennet said as the footmen filed back out.
Mrs. Bennet settled into the center of the lone sofa and Elizabeth and Mary, by unspoken accord, moved to sit on either side of their mother.
Sharing the sofa with her gave their guests their choice of the four chairs.
It didn’t surprise Elizabeth when Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley took the two farthest from the sofa and nearest the door.
“Would you care for tea?” Mrs. Bennet asked. “Be forewarned, we have six cups, but only two saucers.”
“Please, do not strain your limited supplies on our behalf,” Mrs. Hurst said.
Mrs. Bennet gave Sarah a kind look and waved her away.
“And that’s why we’ve come,” Miss Bingley said brightly.
“Dear Jane told us how little you have, and we knew we had to do something. I’m certain you are coping very well with everything, but we thought we could make things a little easier for you.
” She gestured to the packages. “But we didn’t think of a tea service. ”
Mrs. Bennet nodded in acknowledgement. “Still, whatever you have brought, it’s very kind of you.”
“I understand your neighbors have been a great help,” Mrs. Hurst said, “but of course, their resources are limited.” She sat so straight in her chair that no part of her touched the back.
“Yes, our neighbors have been generous,” Elizabeth said.
“It must be wonderful to live surrounded by neighbors who care about you.” Miss Bingley looked about the little parlor as she spoke. “If I were you, I should never want to leave the bosom of such a caring community.”
“Oh, heavens no,” Mrs. Hurst said. “A community such as you have here is to be treasured.”
“We’re very fortunate in our friends,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Are you certain you wouldn’t care for tea? I’m certain we can manage without saucers.”
Miss Bingley popped up from her chair. “We wouldn’t impose. You must have so very much to do.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed as she and everyone else stood. “We’ve all these packages to open.”
“That should keep you very busy,” Mrs. Hurst said, sounding satisfied.
“I’m sure we’ll call again soon,” Miss Bingley said, backing from the room.
Mrs. Hurst nodded. “We’ll give dear Jane your best and assure her of how well you’re settling in here.”
With that, the two sisters fled back to their carriage.
Elizabeth turned to her mother and Mary, amused. “Do you suppose they worried we’d realize that without so many packages, there must be room for us to accompany them back to Netherfield Park?”
“It certainly sounds like they don’t want us to leave here,” Mary observed.
“Yes, well then.” Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips. “Mary, please tell your father and sisters we aren’t to head to town yet. Elizabeth, help me open these.”
Mary returned almost immediately with their father and younger sisters, whom Elizabeth suspected had heard the Netherfield women arrive and deliberately remained away from the parlor.
The cottage was simply too small for anyone not to hear a knock on the front door.
Together, they opened the boxes to find eight place settings of the least expensive services available in Meryton.
“It’s very generous of them,” Mary said as the six of them surveyed the unpacked china and cutlery.
“If this is all they believe is required to keep us here, I’m half tempted to show up at Netherfield Park, bags in hand,” Mr. Bennet said.
Mrs. Bennet turned to him, beseeching. “Could we? Can’t we move into Netherfield Park?”
Taking in the way all sense fled her mother’s features at the hope of once again being waited on, Elizabeth held her breath, willing her father to refuse.
“Possibly we could, but we won’t,” Mr. Bennet said.
Mrs. Bennet wrung her hands together. “Whyever not?”
“For one, you would quarrel with Miss Bingley and make things difficult for Jane.”
“But Jane and Mr. Bingley will marry soon, and then, surely, Miss Bingley will go to London with the Hursts.”
“Perhaps, but it doesn’t change anything.”
Mrs. Bennet let out a small wail. “It would be easier to bear living here if I knew that we wouldn’t have to stay for the whole winter.” She twisted her fingers more tightly together. “Thomas, I’m trying, I truly am, but I simply cannot—”
Mr. Bennet settled his hands on his wife’s shoulders, cutting off her rambled words.
“I must live near the farm, and you are my wife and must live with me. You’re managing very well.
Much better than Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst could have done.
” Mr. Bennet drew in a deep breath, looking his wife in the eyes.
“I can’t live here alone. Fanny, I need you. ”