She considered it for a minute. “Yes, I think sending a message first would be best. We do not want the Bennets to make toomuch of a public scene when she returns to them; it could give rise to talk if it is overheard. Come, Lydia, let us get you to bed. Everything will look brighter tomorrow!”
***
The next morning, Lydia asked her aunt if she might use her writing desk.
“Of course, Lydia; do you mean to write to your father?”
“No; I would like to thank Miss Alice. I do not think that improper, do you?”
“Not at all.”
Lydia chewed on the quill for a minute, gathering her thoughts. Then she wrote, in a careful hand:
Dear Miss Alice,
I hope you will forgive my presumption in writing to you.
I suppose you know by now that I am gone, and that I found myself on a London street as the result of a misunderstanding with my family. I am to be reunited with them shortly, and I believe all will be well.
I must tell you that you saved my life, and you will be in my thoughts and prayers for as long as I live.
I wish you all the best of everything, now and always.
With the deepest gratitude,
Lydia Bennet
Chapter Fifty
Mr. Bennet read the message he had just received. He took off his spectacles, wiped them carefully, and put them back on. He read the message again.
Dear Brother Bennet,
Lydia has decided that she now feels able to return to Longbourn; the very deep sorrow she experienced after her mother’s death, which made it untenable for her to return to you directly from Brighton, has lessened such that she has now asked to be taken home.
I will bring her to you, of course; you may expect us on Wednesday.
Sincerely yours,
Henry
Mr. Bennet rose, went to his study door and locked it. Returning to his chair, he removed his spectacles, put his head in his hands, and wept.
Some minutes later, when he felt that he had sufficiently mastered his emotions, he wiped his eyes and went to find his daughters. He found the four of them seated in the parlour; doubtless their suitors were expected at any moment. He closed the parlour door. The message was innocence itself, as clever Henry had written it so that no one reading it would suspect anything had ever been amiss.
“I have just received a message from your Uncle Gardiner that I think must be of interest to you,” he said, waving the small paper about. The girls looked up, alert to the change in his voice.
He read it aloud to them and the room exploded. “She is alive!” “I pray she is unharmed!” “I knew she was alive!” “Oh, we must bring her dresses down from the attic, she will kill us if they are soiled!” “I care not for the condition of her dresses, I might kill her myself!” “I am so thankful!”
It was impossible to tell who was speaking to whom; Mr. Bennet waited until the room finally quieted. “We must bring her clothing down, yes; make everything look as normal as possible.”
Mary looked over at Kitty. “I suppose I should move back into my own room now.”
Kitty shook her head firmly. “No; she shall have your old room. Unless…Mary, unless you prefer to have your own room?”
“Not at all! I am very happy to share a room with you, Kitty.”
Only Jane saw Elizabeth’s face first alight with joy – now she and Mr. Darcy could marry! – and then saw the light dim. “What is it, dearest?” she asked. “She will be returned to us; is that not what we all wanted?”
