CHAPTER 7
Still nursing her vexation at having encountered Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth went inside to search for her father, whom she found in his accustomed place, settled in his great chair before the study fire.
She knocked on his study door, before receiving an “Enter.” Once inside, she closed the door behind, and Mr. Bennet welcomed his favored daughter, "Ah, Lizzy. Good morning, my dear."
Elizabeth ignored the greeting and spoke directly to her purpose. "Papa, I have just had it from Mrs. Hill that Jenny Woodson is missing."
"Jenny Woodson?" Mr. Bennet repeated, sliding his spectacles down to stare at his daughter, whilst searching his memory.
"Yes, Papa, the Woodsons. The family farms beside the Garretts. They are a large family, you will recall; the boys have helped our own tenants at harvest, and the eldest daughter has lately taken a place at Netherfield, in the kitchen."
"Ah, yes,” Mr. Bennet began, “Nathaniel Woodson. I recall the family now. And, Jenny, well, I cannot quite recall her, but I do recall her father. You say the girl is missing?"
"Yes, Papa. She is lately missing; Mrs. Hill said as much. She is a good sort of sweet girl. I should think her no older than Lydia, certainly not above sixteen."
Mr. Bennet returned his spectacles to their normal position on his nose. "That is curious, and young indeed. How long has she been missing, Lizzy, do you know?"
"I could not say, Papa. Only that her father called upon the Garretts this morning, and Mrs. Hill tells me he was quite beside himself with worry."
"That is troubling news. And, what would you have me do then?” Her father knew she would demand some sort of action.
"Could you not call upon Sir William, and make inquiry?
" Elizabeth's countenance betrayed real concern, and her father, marking it, found himself disposed to help.
He was not a man given to hurried action in the general way of things, but a missing woman within his own neighbourhood was not a matter he could regard lightly.
“Very well, Lizzy, I shall call upon Sir William Lucas, and see what is to be done. Let us hope it is no more than a girl's foolishness, and that she is safely returned within the day."
"Thank you, Papa." Elizabeth crossed the room and kissed his cheek.
For all his habitual indolence, she knew he would not neglect the matter, and that Sir William, as magistrate for the district, and charged as justice of the peace with the wellbeing of its people, would see a proper search undertaken.
***
She left her father’s study, satisfied that the matter would be looked into by Sir Lucus vis-a-vis her father’s prompting, and went upstairs to her bedroom to change out of her walking dress.
Afterwards, she went back downstairs to enjoy what remained of the morning's breakfast before joining her mother and sisters in the family sitting room.
Upon eating a few errants pastries and a slice of ham, Elizabeth entered the sitting room just as Lydia was in the midst of some story to her sisters and their friend Maria Lucas.
"...and, would you credit it, there she was, arm in arm with a soldier! I own I was shocked at first, but how can I help being glad for her? She could hardly do better for herself," Lydia was saying, with evident satisfaction.
Kitty giggled. "But Lydia, do you not think Sarah rather young?"
"Whyever should I? She is scarcely a few months younger than myself."
"What is this you are speaking of, Lydia?" Elizabeth asked, walking over to one of their comfier settees; she noticed her mother and eldest sister, Jane, were absent from the room.
"Why, have you not heard? Sarah Lawson is engaged to a soldier!" Lydia said with an air about her.
Elizabeth was startled at the news. "Engaged? But she cannot be fifteen."
Lydia took up the story with all the self-importance of a woman twice her age, plainly delighted to be its teller.
"Very nearly fifteen, and engaged all the same.
I saw her myself, arm in arm with him, walking down the lane behind the tavern, looking so very pleased with themselves that I knew at once something was afoot.
The soldier went off soon after, and I ran straight to Sarah to ask who her beau might be. She told me herself they were engaged!"
"I can scarcely credit it," Kitty said, sighing with delight.
"What a fine thing, to be engaged to a soldier!" Lydia added, and the two youngest sisters fell to giggling together over the notion.
"I cannot think it wise, for so young a girl," Mary observed, with her usual gravity.
"No, nor I," said Elizabeth. She knew well enough that Sarah and her widowed mother had struggled these several years since Mr. Lawson's death, and it did not surprise her that the girl should have thrown herself at the first man to offer her any attention.
But fourteen is a child, Elizabeth thought soberly.
"Does the soldier mean to wait until Sarah comes of age, before they marry?" Elizabeth asked, already certain of the answer, and liking it no better for having guessed it.
"Of an age! My word, Lizzy, what a prude you are grown. There is no need to wait upon any such thing. I daresay they will be married before the month is out,” Lydia teased.
"And who is the man, Lydia?" Elizabeth asked plainly, looking at her youngest sister with a growing frown upon her face.
"An old, greying creature. I shouldn't think him a day under forty, older, if anything!” remarked Lydia loudly.
"Forty years of age!" Elizabeth repeated, sounding shocked.
This caused Kitty to giggle further, and Lydia to let out a hackling laugh. "Aye, at the very least! He did not look young, I promise you,” Lydia laughed again, seemingly delighted to see her older sister looking quite concerned.
"Do you know him? Have you seen him at any of the assemblies?" Elizabeth added, wondering who the man was and what type of person could wed but a child.
"Never before this morning. I was on my way to help Aunt Phillips, with Maria here, when I caught sight of them behind the tavern. And then Maria and I came running straight home, to tell Kitty the news."
Just then, Jane walked into the room, and the girls turned their attention to her. Jane seemed mission focused, aiming to inform Lydia of something, as she walked over to the chief storyteller. “Lydia,” she started. “Is our aunt not still expecting you?" Jane asked gently.
Lydia rolled her eyes slightly, letting out an exaggerated sigh, "Oh Jane, our aunt will do very well without us a little longer. Maria and I shall go directly, shan't we, Maria?"
"Yes, of course," Maria said hastily, rising for her seat, while colouring at the notion that Jane might think ill of her for having abandoned the Bennet family’s aunt.
"Very well, but do not tarry too long, Lydia. You gave your word to help Aunt Phillips with her preparations," said Mary sternly from the opposite side of the sitting room.
"Oh, you are such a bore, Mary!" Lydia cried before rising and making a dash out of the room, before her sister could chastise her further.
Mary's countenance registered plain disgust. "Lydia!" she called after her, to no effect.
Maria Lucus rose hastily, offered the elder Miss Bennets a hurried curtsy, and hurried off after her friend. Kitty, giggling still, followed to see them away. The three remaining sisters exchanged glances, and Mary punctuated the moment with a disapproving "Hmph."
Elizabeth turned the conversation back to the matter that had unsettled her. "Can you conceive of it, Jane? A greying soldier, engaged to a child."
"You are not wrong to be troubled by it, Elizabeth. I cannot like it either. And yet consider Sarah's situation. Her mother has struggled a great while, and perhaps this may prove a mercy to them both, some relief, and a measure of comfort neither has known in some time."
"Jane, why must you always be so reasonable? No, do not answer that; I would rather not hear it. I am resolved upon this: Sarah is far too young to be a wife. If the man means to be of use to that family, let him marry the mother, and leave the daughter to her childhood."
"Indeed, it is young,” Jane ever the optimist added, “But what if they are attached to one another, Lizzy?"
"Attachment, Jane, is no substitute for judgment, and a girl of fourteen can have precious little of the latter to bring to such a decision.
" Elizabeth felt her frustration mounting as she spoke.
"It is precisely why the law sets an age for marriage at all.
The law does not trouble itself with trifles. "
"And yet, where a mother consents, a parent's approval stands above the law."
"Consent granted on a child's behalf is no true consent, Jane, whatever the law allows. She is a child still, and no more capable of understanding what she agrees to than of governing an estate."
"I know you would have it otherwise, Lizzy. But the Lawsons have nothing of their own. This is a chance at a home, and food upon the table, and someone to care for her."
"They already want for neither home nor food. The neighbourhood has provided for them every month since Mr. Lawson's death. Sarah need not surrender her childhood for what she already has." Elizbaeth’s voice, sounding more frustrated at the situation than at her sister.
"Perhaps it is her pride that will not permit her to go on living upon others' charity. Perhaps she wishes for a home she may call entirely her own. Can you fault her for wanting a fresh beginning?"
"I cannot fault her, Jane. I can only wish her childhood might be spared her a little longer."
"I understand you, Lizzy," Jane conceded, offering a thoughtful nod.
"The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away," Mary put in. "The Lawsons have known a season of loss. Perhaps this is meant to be a season of provision."
"Perhaps so. Thank you, Mary," said Elizabeth, glad enough to let the subject rest, for it had stirred in her rather more feeling than she cared to display.
From beyond the door came the sound of their mother's voice, raised at Mrs. Hill as she approached the parlour. "Hill, mind you do not forget the salt in the butter!"
Mrs. Bennet swept in and went directly to Jane. "Jane, my dear, what news of Mr. Bingley? And his sisters, when are you to see them again?"
"I have had a note from Miss Bingley, Mama. She has asked me to join her for tea next week." Jane smiled and coloured a little as she spoke.
"Tea! Next week! Excellent news indeed. Oh, my dear, lovely girl! I am so glad his sisters have taken such a liking to you. You must continue to please them, Jane, so that they may speak well of you to their brother."
"Mama, Jane hardly requires flattery to recommend herself," Elizabeth said, coming to her sister's defence.
"Hush, Lizzy, I will not hear it. Jane will do as I advise, if she wishes to secure Mr. Bingley's affections."
"Yes, Mama," said Jane, eager to close the subject.
With that settled to her satisfaction, Mrs. Bennet turned to question Mary about new music for the pianoforte, while Elizabeth and Jane drew together to speak, rather more quietly, of Mr. Bingley and the marked attention he continued to pay the eldest Miss Bennet.