Page 43 of A Most Beloved Sister
“Yes, I believe that is what I said, did I not, Mary?”
Mary wished to say something very sensible but knew not how.
“While Mary is adjusting her ideas,” he continued, “let us return to our visitor. I imagine you will have much to do to get ready.”
“Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in. I would hardly call her a guest, however, and I do not need an entire week to prepare for her arrival.”
“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman and a stranger.”
“Oh, Mr. Bingley!” squealed Mrs. Bennet.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and Mr. Bennet said with exasperation, “Did I not just say he was a stranger, madam? It is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life.”
This roused a general astonishment, and Mr. Bennet grinned with pleasure at having his wife and two youngest daughters eagerly question him on the matter.
After amusing himself for some time with their curiosity, he finally said, “Now, I think I’ve shared enough information for one day. I believe I shall keep this man’s identity to myself for a while. Perhaps until the day of his arrival?”
“A secret? Why on earth would you keep it a secret?” screeched his wife.
“Well, my dear, as they say, ‘Secrecy is the chastity of friendship.’ Let us keep our friendship strong and alive for as long as possible.”
Elizabeth felt a twinge of pity for her mother, who sputtered in indignation at this reply. Mr. Bennet continued to amuse himself, responding to her protests with nothing but witticisms that she could not understand.
“‘The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.’”
“Fear, Mr. Bennet? Should we be afraid of this stranger? Is that why it must be secret? I shall be the soul of discretion!”
“‘Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.’”
“Dead? Dead? What, are we to be murdered in our beds by this guest of yours? Mr. Bennet, I insist you tell me what is happening, as I do not appreciate not knowing what is going on in my own home!”
“‘Knowledge itself is power,’ my dear Mrs. Bennet.”
After ten minutes of their bickering, Mrs. Bennet gave a howl of fury and stormed to her bedroom, calling for Hill and her smelling salts. Lydia and Kitty followed behind, while Mary sat down at the piano and began to pound out a mournful dirge. Mr. Bennet watched the three ladies go up the stairs with a bit of a smirk, turned and winked at Elizabeth, then sauntered down the hall back to his bookroom.
It was as if a veil had been pulled back from Elizabeth’s face, and she saw her parents for the first time with new eyes. Her father’s sarcastic humor and dry wit were no longer evidence of intelligence but cruelty. Her mother’s nerves did not signify her vulgarity, but rather bore witness to the neglect and disdain with which she was treated by her husband.
An image of Mrs. Hurst fidgeting with her bracelets after her husband’s cutting remarks at dinner the night prior came to Elizabeth’s mind, and she was struck with the realization that there was very little disparity between her father’s treatment of his wife and Mr. Hurst’s treatment of his. The only difference was her father cushioned his callousness with a smirk and a laugh. She also was certain that there was no physical abuse that accompanied her father’s cruelty, but she could not guarantee the same was true for Mrs. Hurst’s situation.
For the first time in her life, Elizabeth felt true compassion for the woman who gave birth to her.What would it be like being married to someone who constantly treated you as though you offered nothing to the world, other than as an object of ridicule?
These musings were interrupted by the return of the two youngest Bennet daughters, who had donned walking boots and cloaks.
“Lizzy, would you like us to walk back with you towards Meryton?”
Mary was added to the group at her mother’s insistence, which was shouted from above-stairs. “Cease that awful racket, Mary, and go to town with your sisters! I must have silence to rest my poor nerves, and you will never catch a husband if you do not go and meet the officers!”
“The fresh air will you do good, I daresay,” Elizabeth placated Mary as the scowling younger girl put on her boots.
The four girls walked quickly, and it wasn’t long before they had arrived at the first shop. For Lydia and Kitty, their art wasimmediately evident as their eyes wandered up the street in quest of the officers, and nothing less than a smart bonnet or a new muslin in a shop window could distract them from this endeavor.
But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom they had never seen before, of most gentleman-like appearance, walking with an officer on the other side of the street. All were struck by the handsome man’s air. Lydia was determined to find out who he was, and she pulled Kitty with her across the street under the pretense of wanting something in the opposite shop.
Mr. Denny addressed them directly and entreated permission to introduce his friend. “This is my new superior officer, Major Wickham.”
Chapter 12
Elizabeth looked appraisingly at the new major being introduced by Denny. Major Wickham’s appearance was greatly in his favor, and he had all the best parts of a handsome man: a fine countenance, a good figure, and a very pleasing address.
