Chapter 6
“May I speak to you for a moment?” Uncle Thomas asked, watching as Mrs Bennet clapped her hands and sent her daughters from the room.
It was a pleasure to remain alone with him.
Mrs Bennet had almost forgotten that only a few weeks earlier she had opposed his arrival at Longbourn.
Now Uncle Thomas was the sensation of Meryton, and everybody wished to invite him either to dinner or merely for a cup of coffee in the afternoon, his habits having become well known throughout the little community.
“He brought green coffee from Africa, and he roasts it himself in a sort of circular metal pot.”
Mrs Bennet always had some new story about him whenever she visited her friends, delighting them and placing herself in a privileged position.
Meryton’s attention was fixed upon the Bennets, and it was a glorious feeling.
The unmarried ladies of the neighbourhood were more elegant than ever and never absent when Uncle Thomas accepted an invitation.
Yet Thomas Bennet remained polite and attentive to everybody alike, and not one lady could boast of having received more notice than another.
“I told you he would never marry an old maiden,” Mrs Bennet said confidently to her sister, Mrs Phillips.
“Dear niece,” Uncle Thomas said as soon as the girls had left the room, “I have something very private to discuss with you.”
Mrs Bennet blushed in anticipation and pleasure. He seated himself beside her upon the sofa with that elegant ease which everybody admired.
“I know I am a burden upon your household.”
As she shook her head vigorously, he stopped her from speaking with a gentle touch upon her hands.
“My dear niece Jenny, I have long known the situation at Longbourn, and I doubt it has improved much in recent years.”
Mrs Bennet blushed again, though this time from mixed emotions.
“I have here a small contribution towards the expenses of the household, though I am certain my nephew would refuse to accept it.”
“Uncle Thomas,” she said with considerable effort, still shocked, “I cannot accept it either.”
“Yes, you can, my dear.”
“But I shall have to inform my husband.”
“You may do as you please, but take it and use it for what you do best: appearing elegantly beside your dear daughters and placing an excellent meal upon your table.”
He rose, but not before kissing her hand in a gesture that revealed how sincerely he appreciated her.
Mrs Bennet remained seated for a long time, staring at the curious object and turning it over in her hands.
It was fashioned from folded paper, flat and rectangular, with one side neatly sealed.
Nothing could be seen of its contents, though something lay concealed within.
From his words, it must contain money. Never before had she seen such a thing.
“It is an envelope, my dear,” Uncle Thomas had explained only moments earlier. “It keeps papers or money safe. Things cannot fall out of an envelope.”
Every day brought some new marvel from Uncle Thomas.
An envelope, Mrs Bennet reflected, admiring the ingenuity of it.
Then she drew out the banknotes and her heart nearly stopped.
For one dreadful moment, she was certain Uncle Thomas had made some terrible mistake.
She had never seen such a sum in her life.
It was the sort of amount they generally spent in years.
Immediately, she went in search of him, but Tom informed her that his master was resting, and so instead she made her way to the library.
Mr Bennet looked up in surprise. She rarely sought him there at that hour, but her face alone told him something unusual had occurred.
“I do not know how to tell you this,” his wife began, though ordinarily she never struggled to say precisely what she thought. Still, her nerves were nowhere in sight, so plainly the matter was not an unpleasant one.
Mr Bennet merely smiled and waited for her to continue.
“Uncle Thomas…” she began hesitantly. Then she handed him the gift.
“It is an envelope,” she explained. “A sort of folder for papers and money.”
“I know what an envelope is, my dear. The contents interest me far more. May I?”
His wife nodded, relieved. He stared at the money for a moment, then at her.
“What shall I do?” she asked anxiously.
“Perhaps thank him?”
“You are always making a jest of everything,” she replied irritably. “This is no joke. Have we given him reason to believe he must reward us in some manner?”
“No. At least, I have said nothing of the kind.”
“Neither have I!” Mrs Bennet declared with conviction.
She was happy to have Uncle Thomas at Longbourn, proud of the admiration her friends showed for the perfect gentleman staying beneath her roof, and delighted with the remarkable presents they had already received.
But even when she had opposed his arrival, she had never thought of him as a tenant. He was family.
“Perhaps he has mistaken the value of the banknotes.”
“Madam, I assure you Uncle Thomas understands the value of banknotes perfectly well.”
“Then what are we to think? You told me he was not a rich man. Perhaps he has given us all the money he possesses.”
“Yes, it is possible, but that remains his own decision.”
“So you believe we may accept it?”
“Not we, my dear. You and the girls,” Mr Bennet answered with conviction and much affection.
“But you spent a fortune upon his apartment.”
Mr Bennet handed her back the envelope and reopened his book, a generally clear sign that the discussion had ended.
“Thank the man and be happy, madam,” he said. Though Mrs Bennet still lingered in the library, his attention had already returned entirely to the volume in his hands.
Seeing her husband absorbed once more in his reading, Mrs Bennet rose slowly. She was not yet entirely certain what ought to be done, but already plans were beginning to form in her mind. She had become determined that something must be done for the uncle who had given them so much.
That very afternoon, she and her sister discussed every widow and unmarried lady in the neighbourhood.
Their conversation extended as far as St Albans, and even a few names from London were introduced.
Yet none of the possible candidates appeared worthy of Uncle Thomas’s education, experience of life, and above all, his natural benevolence.
“I shall have a serious conversation with him and discover his preferences,” Mrs Bennet declared.
“But, my dear, are you certain the gentleman even wishes for a wife?” Mrs Phillips asked.
“Show me a man who does not wish for a lady in his house,” Mrs Bennet answered, whilst her sister shook her head.
“A lady is not the same thing as a wife,” Mrs Phillips replied daringly, looking rather insinuatingly at her sister.
Both ladies blushed, though they were long past girlhood.
“That I cannot allow beneath my roof,” Mrs Bennet said firmly, though no such thing had actually been suggested aloud. “He requires a wife.”
And with that, the discussion ended, leaving Mrs Bennet even more determined to visit every eligible lady in the neighbourhood. She already regarded the matter as a duty.