Chapter 2
By the following week, a team of three men began the work under Mr Bennet’s close supervision. He had even made sketches of the two rooms to be built upon the eastern terrace of the house, where a pavilion had originally been intended.
“There will be a parlour with glass doors leading to the garden, but it will also be connected to the house.”
Mr Bennet was so enthusiastic about the plan that he spent most mornings outdoors supervising the works, to Mrs Bennet’s continual exasperation. “I dreamt that once the girls were grown up, we would slow down from this busy life we have had for the last twenty or more years. But no!”
Mr Bennet merely smiled at her complaint, not at all provoked by his wife’s whims. “My dear, he is not a child or one of those elderly gentlemen who spend all day in bed. He is active. Why, merely to come home, he has had to cross Africa. I assure you that such an endeavour is nothing like a day at church. It is full of dangers and discomforts.”
Their only subject of conversation lately had been that uncle, yet seeing how interested her friends were in him, Mrs Bennet had secretly begun to enjoy the change in their daily life.
She finally accepted that Mr Bennet was right.
One more plate at table was not such an imposition after all.
As for the rest, she would make him understand that neither she nor her maids were at his disposal.
If the girls wanted him there, they could take care of him.
Besides, it might prove interesting to introduce him to her friends.
Miss Cavendish, an old maid living comfortably on the main street in Meryton, appeared somewhat interested in the gentleman. “Perhaps he will be dressed in one of those long gowns that you see African people wearing in books,” she said, far from disturbed by such a possibility.
“I am sure Miss Cavendish will be the first to make Mr Thomas Bennet’s acquaintance,” said Mrs Phillips whilst strolling with her sister beyond curious ears, “and she will make a great effort to attract his notice. I think she is even ready to buy herself a husband.”
Miss Cavendish’s circumstances were well known. She was the sole heiress of a prosperous trader.
“Well, my dear, in that case, she may have him for nothing!” Mrs Bennet replied, and they both laughed.
“However, when did you ever see a gentleman, even an older one, choose a fifty-year-old maiden as a wife? They always look for younger wives. Still, I agree it could be the best solution. He could stay a while at Longbourn and then marry and live with a wife who would take care of him.”
“Then let us think of a suitable wife for him.”
And patiently, having an entire morning at their disposal, the two sisters reviewed the unmarried ladies of Meryton and its surroundings.
For once, Mrs Bennet returned home in an excellent mood and asked Mr Bennet in a warm tone when Uncle Thomas was due to arrive.
Mr Bennet stared at his wife over his spectacles, as he was wont to do when surprised. “In three weeks. I have had a message from him to say that he is in Europe and heading for this country.”
“I hope he is not in France!” Mrs Bennet said with obvious concern. Mr Bennet tried not to smile in his wife’s direction; she had still been unhappy about his arrival only a few days ago.
“I think, madam, that a man like him knows how to avoid danger. He will reach us in perfect health, do not hope otherwise!”
He observed her, wondering if she secretly hoped that the war in Europe or any other misfortune could stop Uncle Thomas from arriving at Longbourn, but his wife’s green eyes were clear.
On her countenance, he could see no sign of fury.
Whilst she could lie with nonchalance about little matters such as the price of a pound of cheese, she was not capable of hiding her soul.
The contents of her soul were always written upon her face for anyone interested in her feelings.
She had probably found an interest in his arrival, which could only benefit the peace of the family.
∞∞∞
A week before Uncle Thomas’s arrival, the preparations were in full swing.
A carriage loaded with old furniture arrived from the Gardiners, who had redecorated their house only a year before.
The furniture, carpets, and curtains were neither dirty nor ruined, merely out of fashion.
In no time, the two large rooms being prepared for their uncle’s arrival appeared elegant and sunny.
It was a surprise to everyone when Mrs Bennet announced she would move in there herself as soon as the apartment became available.
“Available?” Mr Bennet asked. “What do you mean by that? We are not running an inn where customers come and go. Uncle Thomas will spend the rest of his life with us.”
That prospect made Mrs Bennet angry again.
“We have had five daughters, and you have never made any changes to the house!”
The reproach was so direct that Mr Bennet removed his spectacles, ready for battle.
In some respects, his wife was right. He had never taken much interest in improving Longbourn, perhaps because, paradoxical as it seemed, although it was his home for life, it could never become the home of future generations of his family owing to that damned entail.
Yet, as he watched the works draw towards completion, he felt a measure of regret.
He ought to have built those rooms long ago.
“Yes, you might be right,” he answered, observing the astonishment on her face. “I promise, Mrs Bennet, that as soon as the apartment becomes available, it will be yours.”
It was an easy victory for Mrs Bennet, and for once, she felt closer to her husband than she had in a long time. “Thank you, Mr Bennet!” she said, gazing around again with much satisfaction and already imagining her friends gathered there for tea on a sunny day.
Mr Bennet reflected that he had never expected the windows to become the most expensive part of the construction. He would have to make savings elsewhere, though he could not know how successful they would be until after the harvest.
“My dears,” he said, just a day before Uncle Thomas’s arrival, “thank you for your support.”
Amazingly, all five sisters had participated in the decoration with goodwill and enjoyment. The occasional arguments had concerned nothing more serious than the colour of a curtain or the placement of a small table in the cosy room.
There were flowers upon the tables, and Mr Bennet had discovered some old paintings in the attic which now hung upon the walls.
He did not know for certain what his wife truly thought, but she had resolved to behave amiably, whilst his daughters were evidently delighted, and that mattered a great deal to him. His uncle would be received as family, and that was all that concerned him.