Present Day
News of the ladies’ arrival in Gracechurch street soon spread to all their friends, and anybody who had not known the Bennet girls would be remaining in town that summer professed themselves delighted to hear it—for they were generally on pleasant terms with all their acquaintances, and they had never been at liberty to visit their friends in town before. Their time was normally spoken for by their stepmother; now, they had comparative riches of freedom.
Yet Jane seemed melancholy, and she was slow to emerge from the ladies’ bedroom the next morning. Elizabeth, lively as always, departed on her own, finding her aunt’s maid ready and waiting to assist her. Mrs. Gardiner, too, was awake and dressed when Elizabeth reached the breakfast room in the morning, and her little children were with her.
“Good morning, my dear,” her aunt said, rising from her writing desk.
Elizabeth smiled. “I see you like to rise early, as I do.”
“My little darlings will allow nothing else. Though I could have the nurse care for them, I always like to be with them myself.”
The children—a daughter nearly two years old and a son only six months—were quiet, pleasant little ones, and though she had never been particularly fond of children, Elizabeth allowed her aunt to pass the baby to her to be held while she brought the other upstairs to retrieve a beloved toy.
Elizabeth was seated on the sofa holding little John when her uncle came in the room.
“Well, there you are!” he said jovially, smiling. “Now, do not get up. I see you have our little boy with you. And where is Mary?”
Elizabeth told him, and he sat down beside her. “I suppose you were too young to remember that I used to hold you just like this when you were his age.”
“Indeed, I was too young, but I am sorry for it! I would be glad to have more memories of you, and I ought to have, if things had been how they should have been.”
Hearing Elizabeth’s regret, her uncle said, “Never mind that. In any case, it was not your fault that our families were at odds. Things would have been different, if poor Jane had lived.”
“Poor Jane” was not Elizabeth’s sister, but her mother, and at the sound of her name, Elizabeth felt her interest rise, as it always did. Having been only a child when she had lost her mother, she remembered very little about her. She was always interested in learning more, but never seemed to have the opportunity.
“I like to hear you say her name,” Elizabeth said softly after a short pause. “My father does not mention her, and I am afraid none of us remember her much.”
Mr. Gardiner smiled sadly. “You look like her, and your sister does as well. I suppose you know, she was a renowned beauty about Meryton.”
“No, I had not known it,” Elizabeth said eagerly. “Was she indeed?”
“That is how—we presume, anyhow—she found her husband. Your father was as captivated by her beauty as anybody, but he had the best estate in any of the neighboring villages, and dear Jane was sure she could not do any better than to marry him. And she was right; he was a very good match for her, though she had only four thousand pounds to her name.”
Having herself very little above three thousand pounds, Elizabeth remarked, “That is not so very little, is it?”
“It is certainly too little for her to abide had she not married well,” her uncle answered. “She could not live on so meager a fortune very comfortably. She was not like me, you know; she had not the option to go to school or to work.”
“No, I suppose not,” Elizabeth replied. Her own good fortune in having a stepmother who supported her in school, though she did not seem to love her, was suddenly evident.
“Our father, I suppose you know,” Mr. Gardiner continued, “was an attorney.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied, “and our uncle Phillips was his apprentice—but we seldom see him now, or his wife.”
“It is a shame,” Mr. Gardiner said, “that your stepmother—” he paused. “Well, as I said before, it is of little consequence now. You are here, and we can become acquainted at last.”
Elizabeth blushed. She was relieved to see Mrs. Gardiner return, and with her was Jane and the children’s nurse. “Shall we have breakfast, then?” Mrs. Gardiner suggested.
The family dined quietly in a room just off the parlor, and Elizabeth and Jane were pleased to receive a letter in the morning post that was delivered by the servant while they ate.
“It is a card from Miss Whipple,” Jane said, smiling to Elizabeth and handing her the note.
Taking the card from her sister’s hand, Elizabeth glanced at her aunt, who said, “First the gentleman at yesterday’s concert, and now today a card before we have even finished breakfast. I had no idea how very popular my nieces were!”
This statement made both sisters blush and vehemently deny the idea that either had any such popularity. Being unappreciated in their own families had made them modest. Having beauty, fashion, accomplishments, and connections, there was nothing but fortune lacking to make them completely the thing. It was just enough—this little flaw—to make them beloved by all their school friends, for not a soul among that privileged set could envy them enough to provoke dislike.
“Will you join us to call on Miss Whipple?” Jane asked. “If it is not convenient today, we can go tomorrow. I will write today, in any case.”
Elizabeth glanced at the note, which read:
My dear Miss Bennet,
I must not wait any longer to write to you, though I have only been away from school for one day—for I am already almost mad with boredom. Though you are staying with your aunt and uncle, I must impose so much as to request a visit. My friend Mrs. Jackson has written to invite me to a private party at her home, and I should have no enjoyment at all in such a venture if you and your sister are not with me. The party is Friday evening, and I will have the power of sending a carriage to Gracechurch Street for you both. What do you think? Please write to me soon, or call if you are able.
Kindly,
Etc.
Mrs. Gardiner, meanwhile, said, “I am sorry to say it is not convenient today, but there is no reason why we could not call on the morrow. Tonight, however, your uncle is holding a dinner for you both, and he has invited several of his business associates. Respectable people, I am sure you cannot be humiliated by an acquaintance with them.”
“No, of course not,” Jane said. “We are delighted to be acquainted with any friends of yours, Aunt.”
That evening, the guests arrived very little in advance of the hour that dinner was to be served.
“It is difficult,” Mrs. Gardiner explained to Elizabeth in a whisper, “for most of our friends to come away from their work to be merry with us. I know it is difficult for Mr. Gardiner, and he has fifteen men in his employ!”
“Indeed!” Elizabeth replied. “So many?”
“His warehouses are just down the street,” her aunt answered. “I will show them to you tomorrow, if you would join me on a morning walk.”
“Yes, certainly,” Elizabeth replied. “I hope he is not losing any business on our account, being now so often at home.”
“If he is,” Mrs. Gardiner replied pleasantly, “it is of no consequence to him—but I am sure he is losing nothing. He is eager,” she added, “to get to know both of his nieces. I believe he wishes he could spend time with all four of you.”
“I wish it, as well,” Elizabeth said earnestly. Then, reflecting, she said in a quieter tone, “My sisters must be quite settled at Longbourn now.”
“You ought to write to them,” her aunt replied, and Elizabeth agreed, but had little time to say anything else before the dinner guests were ushered into the room.
“—And the whole thing was settled before old O’Connor could get half a word in!” a portly, older gentleman was saying as Mr. Gardiner accompanied him into the drawing room. Mr. Gardiner, laughing politely at his guest’s story, turned to his wife and nieces to perform introductions.
Soon afterward a c
ouple arrived by the name of Smyth, looking to be about Mrs. Gardiner’s age.
“Mr. Smyth was my apprentice,” Mr. Gardiner explained as the gentleman shook the girls’ hands. “And Mrs. Smyth is a friend of my wife’s.”
Indeed, Mrs. Gardiner liked Mrs. Smyth above all her husband’s friend’s wives. She was sensible, well-mannered, and calm, and Mrs. Gardiner had suggested her husband invite this couple specifically so she could introduce her nieces to one who was among the best of her acquaintance.
The eighth for their dinner was rather late, arriving just at six o’clock (for the meal was to begin at half past), and to the young ladies, he was the most interesting. Mr. Dixon was in a respectable line of trade and, like Mr. Gardiner, was very successful in it—but at one and thirty, had not begun to think of marriage until recently. Single, rather handsome, and comparatively well-off, he was an eligible match for either young lady—though perhaps Lady Sarah could have objected.
“Ah, here you are,” Mr. Gardiner said jovially as Mr. Dixon entered the room. They shook hands, and Mr. Gardiner said, “Allow me to introduce my wife, sir, and my nieces.”
To Mrs. Gardiner, he said, “Mr. Dixon, my dear, works near Bond Street, at the old Livermore warehouses. We were introduced last month on a matter of business.”
Evidently the man was not well-known to Mrs. Gardiner, for her face betrayed her surprise, but she was all politeness as she received her guest. Having bowed to the ladies most gallantly and seated himself near Mr. Potter, the gentleman was at a distance far enough from Elizabeth and Jane that the girls, momentarily isolated from their aunt as she sat with Mrs. Smyth, could discuss him as they wished.
“I wonder why our uncle has invited him,” Jane whispered. “It is clear he is not an intimate friend, as the others are.”
“No, clearly not,” Elizabeth replied, “but I do not wonder, nonetheless.”
Jane raised her eyebrows, and Elizabeth laughed and said, “Jane, have you not attended parties enough to know that no supper attended by single young ladies can be carried off without an equal number of single young men, if any of the ladies are to enjoy themselves at all?”
“I do not require young men to enjoy myself,” Jane said, a slightly scandalized look in her eye showing that Elizabeth’s teasing had produced its desired effect. The younger sister laughed.
“It is not what we require, but what our uncle wishes to provide for our enjoyment. We may be satisfied with far less agreeable company, but our uncle could never forgive himself if he did not at least attempt to entertain us with a handsome young man.”
“Mr. Dixon is here to entertain us, then?” Jane said mildly.
“To satisfy our fancy, perhaps,” Elizabeth replied with a smile. “He is handsome; he is young enough. I am sure our uncle is not as active as our stepmother in attempting to secure husbands for us, but he is not completely without interest in our marrying well.”
Jane sighed. “I only wish,” she whispered, “that there was more time. I know that Lady Sarah means well, and Uncle Gardiner means well, and everybody means well—only, I do not want to marry because I have to. I want to marry because I want to.”
“Jane, do not be so serious!” Elizabeth replied, rather alarmed at the evident depth of her sister’s melancholy. “Nobody has said anything about marriage except for me, and I was only teasing. You have time.”
“I do not have time,” Jane whispered urgently, and Elizabeth wondered where such sudden distress came from. “I would go home to Longbourn, but I know I would not be welcome there. Staying in London without a chaperone would be scandalous, but what home have I besides? The summer will end, and then what will become of me?”
“You have a home here,” Mrs. Gardiner said, “whenever you wish for it.” She had come to join the sisters after Mrs. Smyth rose to be introduced to Mr. Dixon, and neither sister had noticed when she approached. “My children are still young, and I am always glad for your company. It is my husband’s wish, and mine, that you should always feel welcome with us.”
Every day Elizabeth grew increasingly satisfied with her aunt’s kindness, generosity, and good breeding. She smiled and thanked her from her heart, but Jane said nothing—and the reason for her silence soon became apparent. Having been introduced to everybody, Mr. Dixon was now approaching, and with no other aim than to become better acquainted with Jane—whom he had long been staring at from across the room.
“Your uncle tells me you have just finished school,” Mr. Dixon said. Elizabeth was not much impressed with the abruptness of the young man’s speech, but Jane’s smile showed she did not mind it. As Jane replied, Elizabeth turned back to her aunt.
“Did you say Mr. Dixon is a business associate of my uncle’s?”
“Yes, and he very much likes him,” Mrs. Gardiner replied in a whisper, smiling knowingly. “He is evidently quite successful—not yet as affluent as some, but certainly in a fair way to be so at last, if he can continue to make wise choices, as he has done thus far.”
Elizabeth nodded, only half understanding. Her aunt meant to intimate that Mr. Dixon, though pleasing, would be best served by marrying a woman of considerable fortune—at the very least, ten thousand pounds. Elizabeth, however, believed his wise choices to be only business-related. The misunderstanding was minor, and Mr. Dixon’s attraction to Jane would serve him well if business was his only concern. He would be influenced by her, if ever he consulted her, to act wisely in matters of business. If wealth were his aim, however—if he desired to make his fortune through marriage—then Jane could never satisfy him.
Mr. Gardiner, who seldom thought about such things as marriage and truly only intended to provide enjoyment for his nieces by inviting these particular guests, approached Jane just before they went away to the dinner table. “My dear,” he said, “I hope your stepmother would approve of the entertainment we have provided for you in London so far. I hope when you write, you will tell her we have given you socialization as well as culture in your stay with us.” Then, turning with a smile, he added, “Mr. Dixon, I suppose you do not know that my nieces are the stepchildren of Lady Sarah Radcliffe, whose father is the old Earl Radcliffe.”
Mr. Dixon had not known, and his interest in the subject was great. A social climber himself, he had a great wish to meet with nobility, with seldom any means of fulfilling the wish. As the uncle had intended, the comment revived their conversation.
“Do you live in London, then, ma’am?” Mr. Dixon asked.
“No, sir,” Jane replied. “Or, that is, yes, I live in London. My father’s house is in Hertfordshire, but I am seldom there.”
“I cannot blame you for that,” the gentleman replied. “What is there to do in the country? Town is pleasanter in every respect.”
This was no picture of Jane’s feelings, but she was too polite to dissent. A simple smile and nod were her only answer—but these were enough to satisfy the vanity of Mr. Dixon, who was inclined to believe that others agreed with him rather oftener than they did. He remained with Jane until all went to the table to eat, and when they were seated, made his place across from hers. Though he was vain, he was also charming, and the laughter issuing from that part of the table was frequent. Elizabeth, being herself claimed by Mrs. Smyth as a new friend, had little opportunity to observe what was happening between her sister and the gentleman. Her only evidence of Jane’s liking him was her failure to say anything to the contrary when lightly teased by her uncle the following morning, and the fact that she did not say anything else at all about wishing for more time to fall in love.
CHAPTER 7
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The following morning, all three ladies traveled in Mr. Gardiner’s carriage to Wimpole Street, where Miss Whipple was living in her parents’ house under the supervision of her governess, quite alone and in fact resolved, if they had not come to her today, to come to Cheapside herself to call on the Bennet sisters as soon as the carriage could be summoned.
“Thank goodness you
have come!” Miss Whipple cried when the ladies were ushered in. “I have only been two full days alone at home, and I am already the most miserable creature in the world. Nobody has called all morning, until you. I begin to think that I cannot do without a companion, even for a month! Though I am afraid you will think me completely selfish, I must insist that you call here as often as you possibly can. My parents are away, but their friends have begun to send their cards, and I know I shall never enjoy a single party or concert or anything unless I have you both with me. You must give me as much of your time as you possibly can! I absolutely insist upon it!”
Miss Whipple was, as must be apparent by this speech, the kind of young lady who had very few resources for her own entertainment, despite the continual stream of opportunities for enjoyment that seemed to spring up all around her. Even to ride alone with her governess in a carriage on the way to a party was too much solitude for her to bear. Elizabeth found such constant company-keeping to be excessively peculiar, and moreover she could not help thinking that being the preferred friend of such a person was hardly a compliment. After all, Miss Whipple needed only a person with her, and any person would do. What made herself and her sister special? Nothing but the fact that they were available, in town, and without any legitimate excuse to avoid her.
Jane blushed slightly at her friend’s manners and stepped forward to present her Aunt Gardiner, which caused Miss Whipple’s eyebrows to raise. “Indeed! This is your aunt? Well, I am most honored to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”
Elizabeth also greeted her, hoping to demonstrate with her more formal manners the kind of first meeting her aunt deserved, though she was but the wife of a tradesman. Miss Whipple’s manners, despite her fine upbringing, were not the best. While one could learn good manners, it was quite another thing to be disciplined enough to use them, and Miss Whipple had never quite discovered that ability within herself.
“Our aunt has been so kind as to chaperone our activities while we live with her,” she said, “but that will not prevent us from accompanying you to Mrs. Jackson’s house on Friday, if your friend would be so good as to extend the invitation to Mrs. Gardiner, as well.”
Mr. Darcy & Elizabeth Page 7
