“Lizzy,surelyyou cannot blame coincidence or perverse mischance after 3 meetings on 3 different paths within a week,” Mary said.
“Of course not,” Elizabeth laughed. “I am not a simpleton. Even if I took the lazy path of believing it, I have evidence to the contrary.”
The ladies sat in Mary’s parlour while William worked on his sermon. The front parlour gave a pleasant view of the lane, so Mary and her husband spent a good deal of time there.
Elizabeth liked the room and everything else about the parsonage very much.It was a home.She doubted it would have succeeded had she accepted William’s proposal. Mary saw something in the man long before anybody else, and her acceptance had brought it into the light. In the unlikely event Elizabeth had accepted his awful proposal or been forced into it; she would have started in acrimony, which would have exacerbated his worst traits, while Mary started from affection, promoting his best. In the end, it all worked out as it should.
Mary was well accustomed to her sister occasionally staring into space, lost in thought, and took another sip of tea.
“Evidence?” Mary finally asked.
Elizabeth dragged her attention back.
“Rudimentary cartography; nothing to boast of. The three paths I usually take converge at a junction, so I used a map to find a point where it could be observed by the folly, and timed how long it took to get to the divergence point. I noted the time between my crossing the junction and Mr Darcy’s appearance, and it was consistent with his waiting until he saw me pass and hurrying to overtake me. Elementary.”
Mary laughed. “Would it not be simpler to ask?”
“It would beimproperto meet alone by design, so if we acknowledged the subterfuge, we could not. He would be unable to speak to me alone without aformalarrangement; clearly not in the cards.”
“You persist in your belief that he is indifferent to you.”
Elizabeth had spent many hours contemplating the confusing man and already knew her mind.
“Not indifferent, per se. I think he might beinterested, but I do not see any signs ofparticular regard. He talks to me as he might a sibling. I surmise he enjoys talking to an intelligent woman who clearly has no expectations whatsoever.”
“I think there is a lovely spot in the orchard where we can bury our poor departed Mr Occam. I shall ask William to make a proper eulogy to our long-lost master of simple explanations.”
Elizabeth laughed along, but it was a confused sound rather than true mirth.
“The man is confusing, but I believe, understandable. You know our relative situations. It was only the purest of good luck that William decided to offer for one of us, and double-triple fortune he turned out to be a good and well-suited husband. He could have used his future inheritance to get a much better-dowered or connected bride, yet he did not.”
Mary smiled, as she did any time her husband was praised. “I agree. We have been blessed.”
Elizabeth pensively continued, “I admit to you, and you alone, thatsometimesI think there might be some scant affection for me, but when I thinkrationally, I wonder if we should expect lightning to strike our family thrice.”
“What do you mean?”
“Our dowries, such as they are, remain secret and depend on the financial solvency of whichever rich collector made the arrangement. Mr Darcy, if he thinks about it at all, believes I have nothing but my meagre charms to recommend me, and the lack of propriety among our relations is legendary. It is one thing to be a gentleman’s daughter, which we can claim; quite another to be apoorgentleman’s daughter, with several shrill relatives—and a bluestocking on top. Could we expect him to rejoice in the inferiority of our connections? To congratulate himself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath his own?”
Mary took her hand. “That sounds like you just made up words the man in Netherfield would have said to support your thesis. Do you really believethisone—the Rosings Darcy—whom you have been meeting would say that?”
“Of course not, unless provoked. I have never seen him angry, but I suspect a row between us might end civilization as we know it. Given the right provocation he would say all that and more; but that is not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“He will notsaysuch an ungentlemanly thing, buthe does think it. Let us try a scenario.”
“Proceed.”
Mary's tea had grown cold, so she prepared fresh cups for both as Elizabeth continued.
“Families do not prosper for centuries by beingweak. They either become tough as oak or die out.”
“Common sense.”
“Suppose you are patriarch of such a family with an heir and no spare.What do you do with him?”
“You harden him. Teach him his duty above all, and ensure you test his mettle until he is capable.”
