Chapter 4
“And it is not even Christmas!” Lydia exclaimed, her words expressing the delight her whole family felt on seeing their aunt and uncle Gardiner, with their two young children, arrive at Longbourn.
Their usual Christmas-time visit had been above four months previous, so this unexpected arrival was a joy to them all, as they all loved their Gardiner relatives.
“And you have grown so much in these months I should hardly have known you at all,” their aunt said in reply.
Lydia, her youngest sister, was indeed growing extremely fast; she was already nearly as tall as Mary, who was three years her senior, and she was also precocious and mature for her age.
At her young age, there were also signs that she would be the equal to Jane in beauty, having the same fair hair and much of her mother’s looks.
Her interests were fashion and dresses, not dolls and games, and Elizabeth quietly despaired at her lack of interest in obtaining any accomplishment at all.
“Come, my sweet,” Lydia said, grabbing the hand of Benedict, her young cousin of only four.
Clara, the eldest of the two Gardiner children, did not wait for an invitation; they both worshipped Lydia above all, and she, in turn, doted on them.
Lydia would bring the children up to the nursery, ostensibly to see them settled, but her toys still remained in that room, and the arrival of her young cousins allowed her an excuse to play with them.
She would never be seen to show any interest in such pursuits with her older sisters.
“Gone off with Lydia, have they?” their uncle asked, having been in quiet conversation with her parents.
“As usual,” Mrs Gardiner acknowledged.
“She is so good with them,” her mother proclaimed, and no one could contradict her.
“Why have you come, Uncle?” Elizabeth asked, and her uncle did not immediately respond.
“A matter of business,” her father replied in his stead.
“Should we go to your study?” her uncle asked.
“No, no,” her father replied, “there is no haste. Make yourselves comfortable, settle in, and we can discuss the matter after dinner this evening.”
“Capital,” Mr Gardiner replied.
Elizabeth was even more curious now. What matter of business could her father have with her uncle?
Mr Gardiner was a man of business in town, and her father was a country squire.
She knew that this was not the time to enquire, but her father could often be persuaded to reveal information in the fullness of time.
The fullness of time in this case was four days hence. Elizabeth had watched in increasing concern as box after box of books from her father’s study were packed into the Gardiner’s carriage.
“Why are they taking your books, Papa?” Elizabeth asked, her concern showing in the frown tightening her face.
Her Uncle Gardiner and her father had spent many hours in his study, carrying out discussions on she knew not what, but she had seen them sorting books into and out of boxes.
Some of the books had been stored in the attic, and some had had a place on the shelves of her father’s study.
Elizabeth had heard them discussing the merits of each book before it was either replaced or placed for the first time on the shelves, or consigned to a box.
“Books are of immeasurable value, my dear,” her father said, repeating a phrase she had heard many times before. “They give us knowledge and sometimes entertainment. They allow us to live in worlds we are unlikely to experience in our own lives, but books also have another type of value,” he said.
“How so, Papa?” she enquired.
“Well, the books that your uncle is taking are ones I am not overly fond of,” he said.
“Many of them, as you know, have been banished to the attic. Hidden in such a place where they can give no value to anyone. And my study is near to bursting its seams, so they cannot have a place there. But books can also be turned into money,” he said, a self-effacing smile on his face.
“That being so, your uncle is taking these books to town for me to sell, and he will invest the proceeds for the benefit of our family.”
Elizabeth was happy with this explanation, for indeed, there was no point in books taking up space in the attic.
And she had no interest in reading anything her father did not think worth the space in his study.
That the books might be worth a great deal of money was not at that time within her understanding.
So, when her father said her uncle would invest the proceeds, she thought nothing further of it.