Chapter Four
M r. Bingley did not return to Hertfordshire in the following weeks. As Jane's quiet sorrow intensified, Elizabeth's anger at him and his companions increased. She grew more determined to get them both to London, if only to alleviate her sister's suffering with diversion. Jane was noble in her grief — she did not fall into self-pity, but shied away from any of their friends and neighbours in Meryton who offered her sympathy. While in Jane's company, Elizabeth was cheerful and optimistic; away from her sister, she fretted.
“I imagine, my Lizzy,” said Mr. Bennet, “that you will be taking advantage of this fine winter weather and going for many a long trudge across the countryside, eh?”
“If you do not wish me to take permanent refuge in this bookroom, it seems to be my only recourse, Papa. I cannot after all plague our neighbours a quarter of an hour at a time in order to hide from my own mother.”
“Come, my child, it is not so bad as all that. Your mother will vent her ill-usage for a week or so longer, and then when your elder sister becomes engaged to Mr. Bingley, be all smiles and sweetness again, depend upon it.”
His daughter raised her brows. “You think that he will return then, Papa? I had thought, had hoped, that he would, but Jane heard again from Caroline Bingley yesterday.”
“Did she indeed?” Her father frowned. “That explains why I emerged from this room yesterday to find you fussing over her like a mother hen.” He watched his daughter's expression change. “Well, well, Mr. Bingley has incurred your wrath. Little doubt you are plotting all manner of terrible vengeance upon him.”
“I do not see what right a man has to enter a place, pay a young lady particular attention, and then leave without a backward glance. ”
“Hmph. Younger men give little thought to what rights they may or may not have, Lizzy; they behave as they please and only occasionally suffer the consequences later. Some may even learn a lesson on the way.” Mr. Bennet paused. “I will give my eldest daughter due credit; she has not plagued this house with noisy tears or a woeful countenance. I daresay it gives me rather more sympathy for her wounded heart than I might otherwise have felt.”
“She is unhappy, Father.” Elizabeth's soft voice had a plaintive note to it.
“I suppose Lydia meant to cheer her up this morning by thrusting a sheaf of dress patterns under her nose and bidding her to imagine each of them made up in white silk, of all things. I am grateful she does not impose these methods upon me when I suffer a fit of the doldrums.”
“I would rather Lydia as a sister a hundred times over than either of Mr. Bingley's, sir.”
“Are you quite well, my child? This is some unprecedented loyalty. Perhaps you had better go for a walk after all.”
“I think I will first find Lydia and then walk towards Oakham Mount once I have seen Jane content.”
“Are your plans set in stone? Jane is with your mother, I believe,” smiled Papa.
She hesitated. “I will find her once I return.”
“You are still avoiding your mama then, Lizzy? I had thought you too stalwart a creature to hide away from her displeasure so long. I wonder if I am disappointed in you.”
“I have learnt from you, sir,” returned she, sweetly, “that some avoidance is necessary if any peace is to be had.”
“That is said more in my manner than yours. Do not permit Jane's disappointment to jade you — a young lady with as much charm as you possess is not so often found. You ought instead to employ your imagination in designing Mr. Bingley's downfall at your fair hands. Lydia seemed inclined to wax lyrical on the topic at breakfast.”
“I may heartily agree with Lydia's sentiment, but her comportment is not well regulated, is it? She did not even pause to consider that Jane was more pained than otherwise by her condemnation of Mr. Bingley.”
“Lydia is a simple creature; if she is not informed directly that her words are injurious she has no way of divining it. Much like her mother, I aver. I might add, in the interests of a balanced view, that Jane does not give a good deal away. Perhaps your mama is in the right of it and Mr. Bingley could not see that she had any preference for him.”
“Mama said that?” Elizabeth's tone turned sharp. “When?”
“I believe you had politely excused yourself from the table after having heard enough about your spurning perfectly respectable men. Not that I think Mr. Collins is the pinnacle of eligibility that your mama has convinced herself that he is, naturally.”
“Papa, when our aunt and uncle Gardiner come, might Jane and I return with them to London for a time?”
“And rob me of any sense within the household? I should think not.”
“You have often said that you must needs have enough sense for all of Longbourn, and how fortunate that is. I am in earnest, sir — I would that Jane had a change of scene in society and mean to cheer her up. It is difficult for her to hear Mama's laments and...”
“You are no less eager to evade her little speeches about your matrimonial prospects, I'd wager,” he interjected wryly.
“And,” she continued patiently, “I do not think Jane finds it a comfortable thing to endure the pity of the local populace. Sir William, for example, is a well-meaning gentleman, but each time he attempts to persuade her that her young suitor will surely come soon, it is all I can do to persuade him away from his soliloquy. I know she does not like to hear Mr. Bingley spoken of.”
“Well well.”
“Please, Father. I will stay with Jane and put my greatest efforts into bringing her about again. If nothing else I will distract her. You know how she values her composure — I beg that you will allow her time to regain it away from prying eyes. ”
“You mean to coax open my pocketbook for your scheme, I suppose?”
“Will it persuade you more completely if I say deny such an intention? I have spent barely anything of my allowance this quarter — I needed only a new pair of gloves for the ball. I am sure that between Jane and me we will have funds enough not to disgrace you if we go to parties or plays.”
“You appeal to my pride over my frugality — how cunning of you. As you will. As you will. Run along with you then, Elizabeth. I suppose you have already written to your aunt or you'd not be troubling me with vain possibilities. Mrs. Gardiner is willing to take charge of you? I don't imagine she'd like to take the other three as well?”
Laughing at her father's parting sally, Elizabeth exited her father's sanctuary and sought out Lydia, who had just returned from the garden with Kitty in tow.
“Lizzy,” said Lydia, “I had wondered where you were — I have been meaning to speak to you most particularly. Kitty had wanted to go to Lucas Lodge at any rate, hadn't you Kitty?”
“Yes,” nodded Kitty. “I thought Maria and I might recover my old yellow bonnet. Do you not mean to come today, Lizzy?”
“No, I shall walk out to see Charlotte tomorrow perhaps. Tell her that, if you will, Kitty. I am to Oakham Mount for a walk today.”
“A long one, then,” smiled Kitty knowingly. “Little wonder. Mama hardly drew breath this morning at breakfast.”
“Yes, never mind that,” Lydia interrupted, ever impatient. “Mary has done with making all her noise in the music room. Let us go in there.”
Elizabeth followed her youngest sister, made obedient by her curiosity, and Kitty went upstairs .
“Well, what is it?”
“I have been thinking about your clothes when you go to London, and about your thirty-six pounds.”
“No one has yet officially said that we are to go, and, for goodness sake, lower your voice.”
“I have no patience with uncertainties. You had much better go — Mr. Bingley shows no sign of coming back and please do not pretend that Jane is not moping over him.”
“What did you want to say about our clothes?”
“I showed Jane some patterns earlier but she was not interested. Can you imagine being so brokenhearted that you would not want to think about a new dress! I read in 'The Gallery of Fashion' that the Miss Brollings set themselves apart from any other young ladies of the ton by always dressing in cerulean blue, Lizzy! Every single dress they owned was fashioned in the same shade so that one could always see them no matter the occasion.”
“The Miss Brollings,” repeated Elizabeth, doubtfully.
“Yes, in matched blue. I daresay they wore sapphires also but you would not need to do that…only perhaps Jane's pearls…” She was recalled to attention by Elizabeth clearing her throat. “I was thinking that the only colour both you and Jane look very well in is white. If you were to purchase a bolt or two of white silk when you are in London and copy some of the patterns I found, you could cut a very fashionable figure at parties. Jane sews well and Aunt Gardiner makes nearly all of her own dresses — I am sure she would help you. There was a Miss Tilney of Bath who was known for always going about in white and she is now a viscountess!”
“Whilst I have little desire to cut a fashionable figure, Lydia, your idea has merit. More fashionable clothes might gain us entry into certain circles where the play might be a little deeper. Listen — bring those patterns to my room later. Do not attempt to draw Jane on the subject again — she may be willing to come to London but it will be better not to mention silk or parties or even cards to her. A bolt of silk may be a worthwhile purchase. Little though I like to spend so much at once, it may be necessary. How much do you suppose a bolt might cost us?”
Mrs. Bennet entered the music room before Lydia could answer. “Oh, it is you, Elizabeth. What are you doing in here? I was looking for Mary.”
“Mary has finished her practice, Mama, and I believe given the hour she will be now devoting her time to improving her mind.”
“Ah, Mary is a good girl. A good daughter. She is very like Jane in character — nothing is too much for her to do if she thinks it will please her mama.”
“I will mention to her that you said so, ma'am.”
“And there is no need for you to take that tone with me, Lizzy. I know very well that you will please only yourself and that there is not a thing that the mother who bore you can do about it. Now there is my poor beautiful Jane upstairs, apologising to me so sweetly that she had disappointed me with Mr. Bingley. It is hardly her fault — she did her best, after all.”
“Lydia and I were thinking we might cheer her somehow, Mama.”
“Well,” Mrs. Bennet seemed a little mollified by this, “you at least have good sisterly sentiments, I suppose. But when I think how you willfully dismissed your whole chance at a secure future, Lizzy…It makes Mr. Bingley's abandonment the more disappointing; truly it does. It is waste, sheer waste .”
Mrs. Bennet then quit the room as fretfully as she had come in.
“ Waste is hundreds of pounds and more being wagered in a single night at tables by fools.” Elizabeth's tone was contemptuous. “The same sort of fools who make a tender heart fall in love with them and then leave on a whim. That is waste.”
“It is not waste if Jane manages to win some of it.” Nothing could be more reasonable than Lydia's tone. “Lizzy, do you really think Jane will consent to play cards for money at parties? Do you think you will come home rich?”
“Jane will come to London and is willing for me to distract her; that is half-persuaded, I am sure. She will surely feel better once she has punctured the pride of a few rich and foolish men. I am certain it will be a better tonic for her than anything we can buy at the apothecary.”
“Really?” said Lydia doubtfully. “It is not usually like Jane to enjoy that sort of thing. I should enjoy it tremendously, but I cannot manage to play cards anywhere near so well as Jane. I always lose and hope my luck will turn. I do not care what she says — I count my steps better than any of you but cannot count the cards as she does.”
“What I hope for is that people like Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy, and yes, even Mr. Bingley who has been so…well. Those who so clearly disdained us ought to learn a sharp lesson in their own conceit. I care less that we should bring home a few hundred pounds, more that they should lose it. Unfortunately, we are not likely to meet any of the Bingleys or Mr. Darcy in London. I own that I wish it were different.”
“Lizzy! You are after vengeance. How thrilling!”
“Men can be so dreadfully proud, Lydia,” her sister informed her. “Even Mr. Collins hinted that on account of our family and our circumstances, I should not expect another proposal. Why should it be that marriage to such a man as our cousin should be the only means we have of bettering our futures?”