Chapter Seventy
What do you mean, Mary is to go to London?” Mr. Bennet demanded.
“Why, I thought you would have been delighted to have another of the girls out of the house!” Mrs. Bennet insisted. “What was it you always said? If two were gone that was forty percent less noise; now, if three are gone, that would be sixty percent less noise, would it not?”
Mr. Bennet could not think what he might say that would justify his current frame of mind.
Jane and Lizzy gone, now Mary – Mary, who had promised him that all would be well!
– was to leave Longbourn? Insupportable!
He growled in frustration, shook his head and left the room.
He stomped to his study and sat there, flummoxed at how quickly his life had changed.
Finally, he pulled on the cord and Mrs. Hill came.
“Sir?”
“Send Mary to me, if you would.”
Mrs. Hill dropped a brief curtsey and left. Three minutes later, Mary knocked on the door. He recognised her tentative knock. She had always been tentative, had she not? “Come in, child.”
Mary did so and sat opposite him. “You sent for me, Papa.”
“I did.”
They sat in silence, with Mary looking at him expectantly, and him searching for words. Finally, “I hear you are to leave us and go to London.”
“Yes, Lizzy said I am to come and keep Georgiana company.”
“And you are content to do so?”
“Of course; why would I not be? You will recall that Jane and Lizzy were invited to visit the Gardiners with some frequency, but I was not.”
Mr. Bennet’s brow furrowed. “You have never been to Town, Mary?”
“No, never.”
“That seems unfair.”
“It has always felt rather unfair, but I always knew that Jane and Lizzy were the favourites.” She spoke easily, without rancour.
“Well, then, I suppose it would be wrong to deny you this opportunity.”
“Deny me? I do not understand. Surely there could be no objection. There will be no expense to you. Mr. Darcy is even sending a carriage, so that you would not be incommoded in any way.” Mary sounded puzzled.
Mr. Bennet was dumbstruck. Had he been such a tyrant that he would deny Mary a chance to go to London, even if it required the use of his own carriage?
He was ashamed. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a pouch.
Opening the pouch, he counted out coins.
“Mary, here; this is five pounds for you to spend in London. No, wait; take more. Ten pounds; that should be right.”
He held the coins out to her and she stared at his hand, then up at him. “I do not understand,” she said, blankly.
“You will have expenses in London, I do not doubt, and it is my responsibility to meet them.”
“Mr. Darcy has undertaken to buy my clothing,” she said. “I do not know what I would need money for, and certainly not as much as ten pounds!”
“I do not know either, Mary; but I do not feel right sending you off to London with just the clothes on your back and nothing more. Please. I have not been the best of fathers to you – no, no, you need not protest – so I ask that you allow me to make a last effort in that direction.”
“Papa, I will be back, this is not a last effort –“
“Mary. I insist.”
Mary hesitated. Finally, she reached out and took the coins from her father’s hands. As she took them, he grasped her hands and held them. She looked at him, and an understanding passed between them. She saw his remorse; he saw her forgiveness. Both were content.