My dear Miss Darcy. Georgiana.
You asked me to describe my sisters to you. I hope that you do not mind the delay in my setting pen to paper in this matter! Many events have transpired which have made the quietude needed for written discourse quite absent in our tranquil home. Since these events pertain to my sisters, I thought that perhaps you would find greater understanding of their characters and persons if I narrated their actions to you, than if I simply attempted to describe them to you.
I recount then, most faithfully, the events which filled the past two weeks of silence.
As you know, my family is in possession of a cousin - singular. Indeed, he has proven himself to be so singular that he has become quite notorious in the village and (as my mother laments) society at large. It does not surprise me, despite this infamy, that my mother has long overlooked his shortcomings in order to encourage his suit of my sister Elizabeth. Unlike my mother, my sister was not at all welcoming to his dispassionate passions.
Her refusal was (she claimed) rotted in his inconsistency. When he first arrived, it is true that his eye fell upon my eldest sister, Jane. Any woman might justly feel the insult of being considered second best, especially by a man whose opinion is held in low regard.
Elizabeth is my father's favourite, and has taken the offence with even less grace than one might expect. In many other respects she is refined and courteous, but upon receiving Mr. C-'s proposal of marriage she immediately fled to my father's side, like a scolded child, in order to enlist his intervention. Thus fortified, she allowed herself to feel superior in the abject mockery my good father directed at both her suitor, and his own wife.
I myself cannot feel so aloof, but happily I remain at enough of a remove that my discomfort was not remarked upon. Thus scorned and insulted in equal measure, my cousin has retrenched to the house of our neighbour.
Elizabeth claims to have been injured by her suitor's indifference. And yet – if you wish to know her character, I will confide – and yet, I feel that her dislike of Mr. C- may be more closely connected to her affections being bestowed upon another party.
I feel dreadfully wicked for setting such words to paper. My mother would never abide such gossip! Please excuse my impropriety, dear friend, in the guise of honesty. I trust that you will recognise candour, even in handwriting as lamentable as my own.
So much for Lizzie. My younger sisters, Lydia and Catherine (or Kitty), are much engaged with the attentions of the local militia.
These men are encamped here until (one presumes) clemant weather and a suitable vessel enables them to make the crossing to the continent to confront the French. At present they are supposed to be refining those uniquely English skills which will allow them to triumph on the battle ground. I do not know what these skills are; nor have any of my servants witnessed them being enacted in the practice yards.
In truth, the officers seem to be dedicated to avoiding the training of their men altogether. They spend a large portion of their time playing at cards and dancing. My sisters are delighted with their repose, but I find myself a little uneasy. If I were to make a career on the battle ground, I would hope that my training would prepare me for the toils of war. These men seem content to trust in fate, or G-d – whichever one allows them to remain at whist the longest.
Lydia and Kitty are much occupied in distracting the officers. Elizabeth does not mean any harm in her own intimacy with another enlisted man, Mr. W- , but I fear that she has fallen into the same trap. I congratulate myself that my clumsy feet and charmless smile make me as useful to the militia's military pursuits as my sisters remain to its recreational ones.
And this leaves me to describe Jane, who has had no dealings with either the militia or with my cousin. No doubt she would have been encouraged towards either, since she is fair of face and sweet of character, but my mother leaves her alone. This is due, in part, to her connection with a friend of your brother's. I believe, indeed, that your whole family may be acquainted with Mr. Bingley and his sisters, and Mr. Hurst? As you may already know, then, they have been in residence near Longbourn for many months.
My eldest sister has built upon her friendship with Mr. B- and, having achieved a convivial state, has been encouraged to close her eyes to the world beyond that friendship. She thus mends bonnets and crafts lace, and plays scales with no resolution or resolve. I find her life tedious even as an observer; I cannot imagine having to live it. But Jane does not complain. She is considered by all to be in a most blissful state.
And those are my sisters. Take their characters and interpret them however you wish, Miss Darcy, for I often struggle to make sense of them. I should perhaps give you clues as to their intimacies – that is, that the younger two barely leave one another's sides, and the elder two are just as inseperable – but I believe you could guess that from my recounting.
I consider myself removed from either pair, and stronger for it. What they cannot do without each other's assistance, I have learned to do unaided. But it has left me bereft of a bosom companion, and as sweet as the ear of my sisters can become when they hear an interesting tale, I fear that they find my slow and stumbling speeches a little tedious. In writing, I can at least structure my thoughts.
And now to the censor this letter must go. Pray that my cruel pen doth not erase all sense from this text – for there is little enough to be found as it stands!
In confidence,
Mary