Week Two The Shocking Lesson
The next morning brought the most shocking lesson of all. Mr. Gardiner appeared in the breakfast room carrying her reticule, which a maid had retrieved from her chamber at his request, and he handed it to his sister. “Francine,” he said kindly but firmly. “I require your purse.”
“My purse?” She instinctively clutched at the bag. “Whatever for, Edward?”
“Please trust me in this matter.”
Reluctantly, she sorted through the items inside her reticule and gave him her small coin purse.
She was bewildered when he extracted her carefully hoarded coins and notes.
In their place, he methodically counted out exactly eight pence and placed the meager sum in her palm.
“This must last you for an entire day. With it, you will be required to pay for your food, clothing, and any other necessities you require.”
She stared at the coins in horror. “Eight pence a day?” she sputtered. “Edward, that is impossible! Why, a decent meal costs more than that.”
“You are correct,” he agreed gravely. “Yet that small sum represents more than many families see in a month. More to the point, it is approximately what a militia officer earns. Imagine―only ten to twelve pounds a year to pay all the expenses for a wife, children, and himself. Tell me, Francine, what sort of life would Lydia or Kitty have should either of them choose an officer for a husband?”
The revelation hit Mrs. Bennet like a physical blow. “Ten pounds? But…but that cannot be right! My girls are the daughters of a gentleman. They were raised to expect a certain standard of living.”
“Precisely,” Mr. Gardiner said. “And yet you have encouraged them to pursue matches with men who cannot provide that standard. An officer’s wife, Francine, lives in quarters smaller than your smallest servants’ room at Longbourn.
Or in a tent. She has one decent gown for all occasions, eats plain fare, and counts every farthing.
No balls. No parties. Is that really what you want for your daughters? ”
Mrs. Bennet sank into the nearest chair, the coins cold and heavy in her palm. “Oh, dear!” she groaned. “What have I done?”
The week that followed proved the most humbling of her entire life.
Every decision required careful consideration.
Should she purchase bread or cheese when she could not afford both?
A cup of tea at a coffeehouse became an impossible luxury.
By the fourth day, she understood with crushing clarity what hardship her daughters would experience if they followed her previously stated desires for them.
Accompanying the physical discomforts she endured with such restrictive spending was an even greater lesson. Madeline was guiding her to recognize the broader implications of her past behavior.
“I have been pushing my girls at the wrong men, have I not?”
The two ladies were walking through a quiet park near Gracechurch Street. “My dear Francine, important men, truly important men, shrink from women who push their daughters at them. They scorn any obvious maneuvers designed to capture their attention.”
Franny’s cheeks burned with shame as she recalled her behavior when Mr. Bingley was in the neighborhood. “I told everyone that he would marry Jane―and on the night they met,” she admitted miserably. “I have not helped my daughters at all.”
The truth was devastating in its completeness.
By her second week in Gracechurch Street, Mrs. Bennet was convinced that she had much more to learn. “Madeline, I wonder…Edward speaks with such admiration for your natural grace in Society. Yet I stumble at every turn. How did you learn to conduct yourself with such refinement?”
Mrs. Gardiner carefully set her teacup on the table as though weighing her words. “You are aware that my father was a gentleman of modest means. I was raised with the expectations and training appropriate to my station.”
“But you married Edward.”
“Yes, I married beneath my birth,” Madeline replied with a smile.
“My family was shocked when I chose a merchant’s son over the various gentlemen they would have preferred.
Edward possessed qualities I value above social consequence: intelligence, integrity, and genuine kindness.
I recognized him as a man who would rise in the world through his own merit. ”
“While I married above mine.”
“According to Edward, your mother was determined that her children should better their circumstances.”
The painful accuracy of the characterization made Franny wince in recollection. Make yourself noticed, Francine! Pretty faces are common, but a lively spirit catches a man’s eye. Do not be missish like those insipid creatures who sit silently in the corners and miss out.
Madeline continued, “Edward mentioned that she was…energetic in her methods of securing advantageous matches for her children. She was the daughter of a successful tradesman who understood that advancement required boldness, and she patterned her behavior after his.”
“But Edward conducts himself differently.”
“You are correct. As a son, he spent much of his time with gentlemen―first at school and then through business dealings. He observed and adapted his behavior to meet their expectations instead of copying his father’s.
” She reached over to pat Franny’s hand.
“When we married, I helped him refine his observations. And his success allows me to move in circles where my birth is respected, not questioned.”
“While I…”
“You succeeded in capturing Thomas Bennet using the methods your mother taught you. But you were never guided toward the refinement expected of a gentleman’s wife. Edward has often expressed his dismay that no one helped you adapt.”
“Is this why he has invited me to London repeatedly over the years?”
“Yes.”
“If only I had come!”
Many sleepless nights followed. Every error Franny had made, every moment when her enthusiasm overrode her judgment, every time her desire to see her daughters settled led her to behavior that had the opposite effect―she recalled all the things she had done wrong.
She stared at the ceiling, the memories parading by with merciless clarity.
Had she really told Mrs. Long that Jane would certainly be engaged before the month was out when her daughter’s acquaintance with Mr. Bingley was mere hours?
The recollection made her cringe with shame.
And poor Mr. Darcy! She had pronounced him proud and disagreeable simply because he had not immediately fallen under Elizabeth’s spell.
Had she subjected a man of such consequence to her crude assessments and obvious machinations? Shame on me!
After the third sleepless night, she rose before dawn to walk the quiet streets near Gracechurch Street and observed the early morning activities of London’s working classes. Even the flower sellers and street vendors conducted their business with more dignity than she had shown in drawing rooms.
“What can I do now?” she asked her sister the following morning, her voice broken with regret. “How can I possibly repair the damage I have done?”
Madeline addressed her with kindness but made her opinion clear. “You are understanding that true elegance lies in dignity and restraint. Your three youngest daughters are learning this at Miss Peabody’s Academy—and it is a lesson you must take to heart as well.”