by Jane Dawkins
My greatest fear is that in desperation Kitty may make an unsuitable marriage in order to escape from Longbourn. Let you and I have her here, near us, where we may direct her towards the patience and wisdom of waiting for a suitable match where mutual affection supercedes all other attractions. Were Mr. Darcy a penniless curate, I would love him not one whit less. I feel certain, too, that were he a tinker, you would love and respect Mr. Bingley every bit as much as you do today. I pray that our Sister, Kitty, will know our joy and not be denied the rewards of a partnership based on mutual trust, love, respect and companionship.
Ever yours,
E.D.
Pemberley
Thursday, 19th September, 1816
Dearest Sister,
I beg you not to distress yourself. This is one of those occasions inflicted upon us as a reminder that life is not intended to be a state of perfect happiness, and there is little I can write in consolation that your own fortitude will not more readily suggest.
There is no reason to think, dearest Kitty, that because Mary will be shortly married, you will be obliged to remain at Longbourn with our Mother. Having said thus much, I agree that, hitherto, it appeared that Mary might have remained unmarried and at Longbourn, but it was by no means certain that this would be the case. Pray, do not rush to seek a partner for life. You are an attractive young woman of fine mind and character, and I entreat you not to be hasty in choosing a Husband. Yes, I say choosing a husband! Do not compromise yourself by making do with the next man to ask for your hand. You have no need to be grateful to somebody for singling you out; indeed the Gentleman of right mind and sensibility who is worthy of you will be full of gratitude in the knowledge that you have done him the very great honour by accepting him!
Be in no doubt of the seriousness of my words, dear Sister. My fondest hope is that you will find the happiness in marriage that Jane and I have found; I wish nothing less for you than a partner in life with whom you may share mutual love and respect. Real happiness depends upon it, and I entreat you to accept nothing less. The world may consider a good match merely a practical matter of pounds per annum income, but I pray you will be wiser.
I shall write to our Mother and request that you be allowed to come here as soon as is possible following Mary’s nuptials, shall we say beginning 1st December? This will allow our Mother a full month of your company after Mary’s departure. Little Cassie celebrates her first birthday on 16th December and it is only fitting that her Godmother should be on hand. It would be hardly proper to send you back to Longbourn before the Christmas festivities, then I feel certain that Jane would wish you to be at The Great House for George’s first birthday on 6th February. After all, your Godmotherly duties extend to him also. Indeed, I do not think Jane and I could bear to part with you before the first of April, a full four months’ absence from Longbourn, during which time our Mother will have become quite used to shifting for herself for entertainment and companionship.
Take heart, my dear Sister, and do not fret that you are the last of the five Bennet girls to be wed. Rather, rejoice that your Sisters are happy, and look forward to the day, whenever that may be (but rest assured that it will be) when your own happiness equals theirs.
Affectionately,
Lizzy
Pemberley
Friday, 22d November, 1816
Dearest Kitty,
Thank you for the unexpected pleasure of your letter yesterday. As I like unexpected pleasures, it made me very happy. A note arrived from the Norland girls in the same post as yours, asking when you arrive.
Expect a most agreeable letter from me—for not being overburdened with subject (having nothing at all to say) I shall have no check to my genius!
Your account of Mary’s wedding is most strange, though upon reflection, given Mary’s distaste for displays of affection, perhaps it is not quite so odd after all. Nevertheless, one might have expected even Mary to allow herself to step out of character on her wedding day! From what you say, my Father was the most joyful of the wedding party.
Dear Kitty, calm yourself about Mr. Digweed, now your Brother—merely be as civil to him as his bad breath permits and politeness dictates. As for Mary, I fear she will have to take up a new subject for study if she is to run an efficient household. That a maid has already jilted her and hired herself elsewhere is worrisome. Until now, Mary has never had to concern herself with household matters, holding herself aloof from such earthly concerns in her pursuit of higher learning. Moreover, her complaint that as a newly-married woman she is burdened with the infinity of compliments and civilities she must pay and receive is yet another indication of the urgent need for her to study politeness and respect for others as carefully as she would examine one of Mr. Fordyce’s sermons.
The weather has been cold but fine and we hope it will continue dry until you are safely here. We look forward to your arrival here with great anticipation. Your God-daughter looks forward to making her Aunt Kitty’s acquaintance and asks several times daily if it is tomorrow that she comes.
I can recollect nothing more to say at present; perhaps breakfast may assist my ideas.
I was deceived—my breakfast supplied only two ideas:
One is to request some flower seeds from Longbourn. It would give me so much pleasure to see familiar favourites from home in my own beds next summer. Pray tell Mr. Hill that I would particularly like to have mignionette seed if they can be spared.
Secondly, last time you came you packed with more haste than judgement, so let me remind you not to be so intent upon merely filling the trunk!
I shall now leave you and write to the Norland girls to invite them to join us. I also have no doubt that their Uncle will welcome the excuse of your visit for another of the parties he is so fond of arranging.
Ever yours,
Lizzy
1817
Pemberley
Friday, 7th February, 1817
My dear Kitty,
I have received your letter, and suppose you expect me to be displeased with its contents? At first, I confess I was much disappointed by your proposed lengthened stay at The Great House since I had felt sure that February would not pass quite away without bringing you back to Pemberley. Observing my preoccupation at breakfast, and enquiring of the reason, Mr. Darcy proposed a visit to The Great House ourselves! He is anxious to shoot with Mr. Bingley, we could all celebrate Frederick Charles’s third birthday together, Annie and Cassie could play with their Cousins, and we three Sisters could amuse ourselves at leisure—a simple, wonderful scheme to please us all. We have in mind to come on the 22nd at about four o’clock and will leave after Frederick’s birthday, for as you know, we are to leave for town at the end of the month, returning you to Longbourn en route.
Your letter mentions a curate several times, but in such vague terms that my curiosity was at once aroused. And might this Gentleman be the foremost reason for wishing to delay your return to Pemberley? Or must I find out for myself when I come?
That you have been working a footstool for me is a most agreeable surprise and I shall value it so much as a proof of your affection and industry that I may never have the heart to put my feet upon it! Therefore, I shall work a muslin case in satin stitch to keep it from the dirt and thus can proudly display before company your loving work in its pristine state. Thank you, dear Kitty.
As ever,
Lizzy
Pemberley
Saturday, 22d February, 1817
My dear Jane,
With this letter I must commend my Husband and Daughter to your care. I regret that I must remain at Pemberley. Cassie is just now recovering from a severe attack of the croup and is not yet well enough to travel even the relatively short distance to The Great House. Since we are to journey to town just several weeks hence, Mr. Brownley advises that she rest quietly here to avoid the possibility of a chill and to ensure that she regains her full
health before our departure to London. (By the bye, it may be worthwhile to inform you that Mr. Brownley ordered taking two grains of calomel every hour until the symptoms subside, and then gradually lessening the dose.)
I shall think of you all. You will never be far from my thoughts.
E.D.
Grosvenor Street, London
Sunday, 27th April, 1817
Dearest Jane,
I thank you for your long letter, which I will endeavour to deserve by relating the particulars of last evening’s party. As you know, I am no lover of London society and parties (and secretly often still feel out of place) but I must say that ours went off extremely well. Above 80 people were invited, including, of course, my dear Uncle and Aunt Gardiner, and Georgiana and her Husband. There were the usual vexations beforehand, of course, but at last everything was quite right. The rooms were dressed up with flowers &c., and looked very pretty.
The musicians arrived at half past seven and by eight the company began to appear. Including everybody we were almost 100, which was more than we had expected, and quite enough to fill the back drawing room and leave a few to be scattered about in the other. The music was extremely good, and all the performers gave great satisfaction. The house was not clear until after 12, after which we retired immediately to bed. You will also wish to know that I wore the new white gown, made very much like my yellow one, which you always told me sat very well—also the pretty diamond Darcy tiara. My Aunt looked most stylish in dove grey silk overlaid with lace of the same shade, and hair dressed with three ostrich feathers of differing lengths, artfully arranged. Georgiana was simply though fashionably attired in a plain, cream silk, the neckline edged in seed pearls—I dare say we were the three most elegant ladies present!
Georgiana and the Colonel have been here at Grosvenor Street during most of our stay, making London immensely more tolerable than usual. They are both such good company and perfect guests with their quiet ways and manners. While Georgiana looks as well as ever, I did at times notice an almost imperceptible veil of melancholy about her, so contrived that we should spend some private time together that I might either pry out the cause, or satisfy myself that my imaginings hold no cause for alarm. Colonel Fitzwilliam had similarly hinted to me his concern that something was amiss. A morning came when the Gentlemen were from home and the weather confined us indoors. Her protestations that all was perfectly well were so violent that I was convinced I was right, and persisted in my enquiries. At last, she confessed her fear that she is unable to give the Colonel Children. We set aside our blushes and spoke frankly upon the subject. It was my opinion that while they have been married almost two years, that in itself does not prove her fear. She had shrunk from speaking to her Husband, and from consulting the Fitzwilliam physician, hoping that an opportunity might arise for them come to Pemberley, where she could consult Brownley, whom she knows and trusts. Agreeing that, unpleasant as the notion may be, a medical consultation was the only means of putting her fears to rest, we decided to ask the Darcys’ London physician (whom G. has also known since childhood, though not as well as Mr. Brownley) to wait upon us here in Grosvenor Street and seek his advice. We further settled it that, for the time being at least, the appointment would be our secret alone.
Mr. Clark arrived on the due date, and after a thorough examination declared that he saw no reason in the world why Georgiana should not bear as many Children as she desired! You should have seen us, Jane, holding hands and dancing around the room, by turns laughing and crying. Nurse and Annie happened to pass the open door at that very moment, so we each took one of Annie’s hands and swung her around the room. Bewildered at first, then, seeing us laughing so much, she caught our spirit, laughing as her little legs tried to keep up with us. We were still dancing when the Gentlemen returned, much to their astonishment, but we refused to state the reason for our gaiety, no matter how hard they tried to winkle it from us!
I have since extracted a promise from G. that she will never keep such a problem to herself again. If, for reasons of delicacy, she cannot discuss something with her Husband, she must write to me and we will unravel it together.
What dreadful, unseasonal hot weather we have! It keeps one in a continual state of inelegance. I hope it will be a tolerable afternoon for I have promised to take Annie for a drive in Hyde Park (she would dearly love to see the Prince out riding!) and if the weather continues so hot she will not be in the best of tempers, I fear. She has lately become most perverse and saucy, her favourite words being shan’t, can’t, won’t, etc. Nurse assures me this is natural behaviour which she will soon outgrow—how very much I want to believe it! It cannot be too soon.
About your commissions: For the summer gowns I have purchased plain brown cambric muslin for morning wear; the other, a very pretty periwinkle and white cloud (mine is yellow and white), seven yards for you and seven-and-one-half yards for me (being taller).
We leave in two days. It is much too late to be in London, especially knowing that the countryside is at its finest this time of year, but it couldn’t be helped. It is far preferable to remaining alone at P., but nevertheless, I long to be home again.
E.D.
Pemberley
Tuesday, 10th June, 1817
My dear Aunt,
Where shall I begin? Which of all my unimportant nothings shall I tell you first? As I write, my dear Husband fishes for trout. Annie and I have just returned from a walk to find him—she has inherited her Mother’s love of walking, and at the great age of three years and three days, tries very hard to keep up even when her short legs show every sign of collapse (I fear she may also have inherited her Mother’s stubbornness). It would have amused you to see our progress; in climbing a hill, Miss Annie only with difficulty keeps pace with me, yet would not flinch for the world. On level ground she is almost my equal; on the slope down to the stream she scampers ahead. We always stop to look at flowers and listen to birds and watch passing clouds—I think it right to take pains to cultivate the eyes and ears of Children for nature. Moreover, nothing tends more to health than exercise and air, and the more Children are out of the house the better. (If there is any subject on which I feel diffident, it is that my affection for my Children will lead me to take too much care of them. Mr. Darcy has been instructed to tell me if I show any tendency towards the kind of suffocating Mothering practised by Lady Mansfield!)
Cassie, at eighteen months, shows every sign of becoming a natural, open hearted, affectionate little girl, adored by her elder Sister. I fervently hope that they will become loving friends as they grow up together. To be able to call a Sister one’s best Friend is truly a blessing, a gift I cherish dearly and one I would wish my Daughters to know.
Haymaking is now over and if the weather continues fair, Barford expects the corn to ripen early this year. Mr. Darcy cautions against hiring extra workers for another six weeks at least; Barford fears that if it is left too late, there will be no extra workers available to help with the harvest. Such, you see, are the burning issues at Pemberley—I cannot imagine dilemmas of this nature arising in Gracechurch Street!
How envious I am that you are to visit Longbourn—and how sorry that time will not permit you to come further north to Derbyshire! I should so dearly love to see you and my dear Uncle. But I do not despair entirely, for we are to visit Jane at the end of this month and remain there until her lying-in. In my mind’s eye I already see the Cousins playing together, our Husbands spending leisurely days fishing, and Jane and I enjoying lazy, unhurried days of reading, conversation, sewing, and whatever our fancies lead us to. Only your presence could improve upon our scheme, my dear Aunt!
Yours ever,
E.D.
Pemberley
Saturday, 28th June, 1817
My dear Jane,
To make long sentences upon unpleasant subjects is very odious, and I shall therefore get rid of the one now uppermost in my thoughts as soon as
possible—we must delay our departure. There, it is said, much as it disappoints me to have to record it at all.
Yesterday morning at four o’clock I was awoken by Nurse, alarmed by my darling Cassie screaming in pain. Rushing to the nursery, I found her just as Nurse had described, quite purple in the face with pain and her little body hot with fever. Mr. Darcy ordered Brownley to be sent for immediately. By the time he got here, Cassie had calmed somewhat and the fever appeared to be abating, but she appeared to be still in pain, for which Brownley could find no apparent cause. Finally, spent and exhausted, she fell asleep. Brownley said the longer she rests the better, she may well sleep off her disorder.
I stayed by her bedside throughout the day and by last evening she seemed much improved, even managing to smile at me, twice! I was heartened enough to leave her in the care of Nurse through the night, though with instructions to wake me should there be any change. This morning, Mr. Brownley advises not leaving home until Cassie’s strength returns, a day or two, he says. Otherwise he is satisfied with her improvement.
I have been urging Mr. Darcy to depart with Annie, for I know he has looked forward to our visit as much as I have, but he insists that we will make the journey together. So, expect us all on 2nd July, towards two o’clock!
