“You are wise to accept this offer of marriage, my girl,” he said. I believe that of all my daughters, you are best suited to be the wife of a clergyman. Your disposition is particularly fitted for such a role. Jane would be too yielding, and Elizabeth too provoking. I fear my Lizzy would very soon offend both the clergyman and his patroness.”
Mrs. Bennet declared, “That is settled then. Mary and I shall go into Harpenden and procure a trousseau befitting the future mistress of Longbourn.”
Mr. Bennet said, “Jane, you shall attend your sister, for your taste in dress is elegant. Do not permit your mother to encumber Mary with lace and frills, but see that her gowns are cut to suit her figure, for it is as fine as that of her two elder sisters.”
Mrs. Bennet huffed, but did not demur.
Mr. Bennet then offered one final admonition. “Mary, you must forgive me, but there is little advantage in possessing the longest hair in all Meryton when it hangs nearly to your knees and appears dull for want of proper care. Jane, advise Alice as to the cut and arrangement of your sister’s hair. You are always becoming in your appearance, and I expect Mary to be the same. Now run along, both of you.”
That evening, as Mr. and Mrs. Bennet waited for dinner to be served, Frances spoke from the heart. “Thomas, I miss Lydia all the more now that another daughter is to leave us. When may I see her? Why have we not yet received a letter from her?”
“That I cannot answer, Franny. It will depend upon how Lydia conducts herself in her course of study. Visits and correspondence must be earned through good deportment and high marks.”
“Then I shall hear little from her for the greater part of the year, for my poor Lydia can be most stubborn.”
“You would do well to fix your attention upon our dear Jane, for she will soon be two and twenty, and we should not wish to see her left upon the shelf.”
“No indeed, sir. We must protect her from such a fate. She must be sent to my brother in town, for there is no suitable gentleman here.”
“Mrs. Bennet, when Elizabeth goes to Mary, let us send Jane to the Gardiners in her place. You may then devote yourself to Kitty’s instruction, so that she may be ready for marriage should she receive an offer.”
Two weeks passed quickly, and as planned, on August 6, 1811, the Bennet carriage set out for Hunsford. Jane and Kitty embraced their sister and wished her every happiness. Mrs. Bennet managed to shed a tear for her middle daughter, and then they departed. When they reached London, they stopped at Gracechurch Street.
Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner received them with warmth and generous congratulations. Elizabeth embraced her sister and was reluctant to release her. “Come, let us visit in this quiet corner. You look very well, sister. This gown is part of your trousseau?”
“Yes, Lizzy. I am now dressed as befits the wife of a clergyman and no longer wear gowns suited to a girl. Jane insisted my bodice be cut in the same style she is accustomed to. I confess I feel it too low, but Jane assures me I am properly dressed.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Mary, anything lower than a collar fastened beneath the chin must appear daring to you, but Jane is correct. Your gown is well-fitted, modest, and elegant. And your new hairstyle suits you very well.”
Mrs. Gardiner, who had overheard, added, “Mary, you resemble Lizzy when your hair is arranged so. Your husband will be much pleased with your appearance.”
Mary smiled with quiet pleasure. “Thank you, Aunt Madeline. That is the kindest thing anyone has ever said of me.”
Elizabeth was moved. She drew near and kissed her sister’s cheek. “You are a lovely girl, Mary. Do not let anyone persuade you otherwise.”
Mrs. Gardiner withdrew to order tea, and Elizabeth settled beside her sister. “Tell me, how do you feel? Did Mamma press you into this engagement to secure her own comfort?”
“No, Lizzy. It is true she preferred me, but I have chosen my own course. I do not wish to remain unmarried like Charlotte, and by accepting Mr. Collins, I have secured our family.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I am very glad for you, Mary. We must hope for the best.”
Mary sighed. “Lizzy, I am a little uneasy regarding his prospects.”
“How so? He is a rector with a respectable income, and he will inherit Longbourn. Do you question his appearance or his understanding?”
“No, Lizzy. I fear he may be indolent. In his letter, he admitted that Lady Catherine did not release him, because in her judgment, he had not earned his leisure.”
“Mary, Papa may call upon Lady Catherine and learn her opinion of her rector. If he proves unworthy, a lady of her consequence would not hesitate to say so. But even if he were to lose his position, you would still have a home at Longbourn, and Papa could instruct him in the management of the estate.”
“Oh, Lizzy, that is true. I shall put that fear aside.”
Chapter 9: Journey To Kent
Mary was charmed by the countryside that would be her home for the next several years and took particular pleasure in the gently undulating hills, dotted here and there with grazing sheep.
The farmland was carefully cultivated, divided into neat fields by hedgerows and stone fences. From time to time, a farmhouse or a cluster of cottages came into view. They were pleasing in appearance, for though modest, they were well kept, and she wondered whether Hunsford Parsonage would resemble the homes they passed.
“Is it much farther, do you think?”
