Chapter 7: Black dress

Mary looked dumbfounded at her crying sister.

'Kitty, what did you just say?' Mrs. Bennet whispered approaching.

'Mr. Wickham is dead!' she shrieked.

Mary bowed down to get the letter and skimmed through it quickly.

'Dead in battle?' Mary exclaimed.

'It's all written there…' Kitty said sitting on the stairs.

'Oh, pray, make haste Mary, what does it say?'

'Mr. Wickham's regime had gone to Ireland for the civil riot, but it seems he was discovered dead, shot in the head, with his face disfigured from the flames in which he was found…' Mary said while reading.

'Good Lord!' Mrs. Bennet yelled fanning herself as she leaned against the banister.

'Lydia has identified the body with his. His funeral was but some days ago…oh, God…I know we are averse to his character, but no one wished him dead…' Mary said more to herself.

'How could it have happened so?' Kitty remarked as her tears dried up. 'Why poor, unfortunate Wickham?'

'Oh, he was a soldier my dear, a man in the service of the country…and this is the price he must pay…the sacrifice,' Mrs. Bennet said solemnly bowing her head as if she was mourning.

Mary thought the speech was exaggerated, but at such times she understood it was necessary not to dwell on his ill behaviour.

Mr. Bennet was much surprised himself, though he could not bring himself to shed a tear. His concern, though unsuspected by none and hidden very well, was for his youngest daughter Lydia, who now remained a widow at almost seventeen.

They all sat in the drawing room, discussing it in detail. Kitty was now perfectly calm but in low spirits and both she and Mary tried to calm their mama, who suddenly realised that Lydia would have much hardship to overcome from now on and that the poor girl was probably shattered.

'Let us hope God shall rest his tormented soul,' Mr. Bennet added languidly.

'Oh, Mr. Bennet, our darling Lydia must be in such pain! To be a widow! And she's but a child! Imagine she had to identify the body…oh, poor creature! How shall she ever find happiness again?'

'Perhaps she can marry again, mama,' Kitty said quietly.

'But of course she will, I'll see to that, but I know she shall never be the same, poor child shall never recover! Only a truly worthy man could make her forget,' she said as new tears glistened at the corner of her eyes.

'Papa, what shall we do now?' Mary ventured to ask.

Some minutes passed in silence.

'Lydia is still in Newcastle, I understand,' he said at length. 'Thus…I suppose…'

'Oh, she must come home immediately Mr. Bennet! She has no home anymore!' Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.

Mr. Bennet sighed. 'After all she has done, she would rather deserve to bear this alone…'

'Papa, that is crude…' Kitty spoke up looking more at Mary than at him.

'Crude is what she did to us…'

'Yet she is your daughter!' Mrs. Bennet shrieked crying harder than before.

'Papa, surely…Lydia must have changed…this must have changed her…she has grown,' Mary said quietly.

'She is now a woman above Jane, for all she has gone through…' her mother said between sobs.

Mr. Bennet looked sad and dejected, but could only admit he cared for Lydia and did not wish her to be miserable.

'We shall do as your mother wishes…' he said at length.

Mrs. Bennet instantly sprang up.

'Oh, Mr. Bennet, you finally saw reason,' she said through choked breaths as she now tried to wipe her tears.

'However, she will never have my forgiveness, what she has done is unpardonable,' he said acidly.

Mrs. Bennet chose to ignore this and now only wanted to write a letter to her daughter, begging her to come home as soon as possible.

Kitty and Mary both went upstairs, not wanting to bother the already indisposed father and crazed mother.

'Lydia will come for sure,' Kitty said slowly as she sat at the window.

'Yes, it would seem so…she'll find comfort in seeing you Kitty,' Mary replied meekly.

Kitty shrugged and looked at her hands and her dress.

'How was the walk?' Mary asked as she sat on the bed.

'Very pleasant…' Kitty mumbled.

'What do you…' she started.

'Do you think Lydia would approve of…of Mr. Fitzwilliam?'

Mary stared.

'Why would she not?'

'She wouldn't…he seems boring and…not much fun for a young person…' she said.

'Of course this is her opinion, not yours,' Mary added.

'Yes, but…perhaps she knows better.'

'Kitty, you cannot be serious…even if Lydia does not accept your connection…'Mary mumbled angrily.

'I do not want to upset her.'

'I don't understand.'

'She'll laugh at me too…' she added sadly.

'Why should she laugh?' Mary asked bewildered.

'She knows how men are…she has had so many conquests.'

'And yet she married a rascal with no money or character who ended up dead on the battle field...'

'Mary!'

'I apologise…I shouldn't have said that…I never wished Wickham any harm, but you must not listen to Lydia blindly.'

Silence engulfed the room.

'When she comes, I suspect she'll want to sleep in this room with me, like we used to,' Kitty said looking at Mary sadly.

'Oh…so you want me gone to my old room?' Mary asked flatly.

'No…I meant…only for a while,' she said.

'I see…I shall retire there this evening,' she muttered getting up.

'Mary…I do not think of Lydia so greatly as you think, it's just…we've been so close throughout the years, it's hard to be apart.'

'I know that well Kitty, fret not, Lydia needs much support and comforting from us all, I understand your motifs,' Mary said softly, smiling.

Kitty dared a shy smile back.

The letter was soon sent to Lydia, bidding her to come to Longbourn at once and in the course of a week she was found in Hertfordshire, on her parents' threshold.

She was dressed in a very elegant, large black dress, with too short a trimming, one might add and an opening at her neck far too wide for a recent widow, but she really was a wretched sight to behold, with her braided hair gliding down her shoulders and her tired, worn face looking at them sadly.

'Oh, Lydia, my love, how you must have suffered! I am so sorry for what happened, dear child if I could have but spared you from such pain!' her mother said in high tones as she embraced her tightly.

'Oh, mama, it was horrid, simply horrid!' she said sighing and placing her head on her mother's shoulder.

'But you will forget my dear. In time, you shall…'

'Oh, without my dear angel Wickham,' she replied disengaging herself from her arms and looking for her sisters.

'Kitty! Oh, how I missed you,' she said throwing her arms around her sister's neck. 'And Mary!' she said taking her hand into hers and holding it to her chest, 'see how my heart is broken?'

Mary would have replied only that she could but feel the cold touch of the silver necklace that hung from her neck.

Mr. Bennet welcomed her in a cordial and simple manner, asking some trivial questions and hastening out of their way as soon as possible.

Lydia was trying her utmost to be as civil as possible and to show superiority, knowledge of pain beyond the comprehension of her two sisters, even her mother.

The ring she had been so proud of was now sealed in a small box she kept in her purse and on being asked why she did so, she replied she could not bare the sight of it, of all it reminded her of, though others were more inclined to think she was trying to ignore the fact that she had ever been married.

The day she came home, Mary moved back into her old little room, which, though allowed her to think freely and read in peace, gave her little joy when it came to conversing as the chamber was on the East side of the house, away from most members of her family.

She did not much suffer over it, but only hoped Kitty would not fall under Lydia's influence again and she knew the only means possible for it not happening was her future engagement to the Colonel.

Two weeks passed during which Lydia seemed, or at least tried to seem, a pained widow, mourning desperately for the love of her life. She went out and walked only with Kitty, retelling her happy adventures at Newcastle, when Wickham was alive, though few related to the deceased man.

Since most of her time was spent inside, Kitty could safely have a walk with the Colonel or call on Lady Lucas, though every day it became harder to ignore the truth from Lydia and everyday she grew more distant and fearful until the Colonel could not make sense of it.

Mary was very much angered and incited because of this new turn and wished Lydia were not such an impediment to her sister's happiness.

After those two weeks, however, an odd sight met the family when Lydia went to call on all her old friends and neighbours, to account for her coming home and tell them all of her sufferance.

Every day she was visiting someone else, every day she was smiling shyly at all who encouraged her not to give up hope, every day she seemed to turn back into her old self.

She no longer moaned and sighed at dinner, but talked lively and somewhat bitterly about her fate and the black dress which did not suit her at all.

She no longer remembered happy moments at Newcastle, but begged Kitty to tell her all the new gossip in town, each night.

Lydia's recovery amazed all Hertfordshire, but only one meeting, one eventful afternoon, showed Lydia had kept her old character.

Kitty had been very quiet about the Colonel, though Lydia had found out of his staying at the Lucases. She had met him briefly on her visit at the mentioned family, but found in him a likeness to Mr. Collins she could not bear. She was certain he would marry Maria Lucas and even made allusions to their being settled happily, though the Colonel could only murmur some words of gratitude, much embarrassed.

Thus, being the end of a sad October and the weather not being harsh as in other days, the two sisters went out to enjoy two hours in the serenity of the proud meadows.

It so happened that the Colonel was walking towards their home, with the intention to visit, when he saw them cross the small white bridge of the river, talking merrily.

'Good day, Miss Bennet,' he said as he approached them, bowing politely and kissing Kitty's hand.

She instantly blushed and wished she were somewhere else.

'Good day, Colonel, what brings you here?' asked Lydia.

'I was on my way to your house, I wanted to see how you are bearing up with the tragedy which shocked us all…' he replied though much was to be guessed in his countenance which showed he meant to see only one person.

'Oh, it has been nearly a month and we are perfectly well,' Lydia said impolitely.

'Oh, yes, perfectly well…' Kitty muttered meekly.

'Miss Catherine, you seem out of sorts,' the Colonel said concerned.

'Oh, I was simply…'

'It is nothing to be worried about, Sir,' Lydia said quickly, 'she is not used to this cool weather, though I must declare I have survived quite well in the North where this climate is summer in comparison…'

The Colonel looked at Kitty intensely but she bowed her head, not daring to look up.

'Well, then, perhaps I shall call another time,' he said slowly, bowing slightly and bidding them goodbye.

As soon as he was gone, Lydia started giggling with insolence.

'Oh, what a boring, tedious man! Did you see his cape? It had smears of dirt on it, for sure!'

Kitty did not breathe a word, only nodded absently as she looked back for the Colonel.

As they returned home, Lydia instantly started chatting with her mother about the happenings of the day, not forgetting to add how they were rudely interrupted by Colonel Fitzwilliam.

'Oh, yes the Colonel is a much older man, so you must understand…'Mrs. Bennet replied amused.

Mary looked at Kitty who was sitting on the stool in front of her piano, a most ridiculous sight since she had never even tried playing. She tried smiling and looking good humoured, but it failed miserably and Mary could see well how much the meeting had affected her.

Some days later, the Bennets received an invitation to dinner from Mrs. Long who wanted to reunite some of the families of the neighbourhood as winter was approaching fast and plans for entertainment would have to be made promptly.

Lydia was very happy to hear of such news and decided she must help the ladies on their schemes of balls and parties, though she did not intently talk so, for she wished not to stain her appearance of a respectable widow.

It is hard for a seventeen year old girl to preserve such pious behaviour against her own will and half the times Mary noticed Lydia would have rather laughed than smiled.

The night of the big dinner came, with not so much excitement for Kitty, who wished not to confront the Colonel in the presence of her sister.

Lydia was in the lavatory getting dressed and Kitty wondered why ever since she came back, her sister had accepted to undress only in the intimacy of that small crammed room, when before, she had always torn off her clothes in front of Kitty, without a shame.

'Oh, this wretched dress!' Lydia yelled puffing.

'Wear another one then,' Kitty said from the other room.

'You ninny, I cannot wear another one, I am husbandless and this is my punishment.'

'But that dress is so large and uncomfortable, I am sure Mary has dark coloured dressed which are much more…'

'Pshaw! I shall not borrow anything from her! And in any case, the dress must be large.'

Silence was dropped like a veil and Kitty said no more.

Suddenly, she heard strange noises from the lavatory, as if someone was choking.

'Lydia, are you alright?'

She received no answer though the muffled sounds made it seem as if she was in great pain.

'Lydia?' she asked approaching the door.

'Lydia, please come out.'

The sounds increased in volume and now Kitty was truly worried.

'Lydia, open this door right now. Lydia!'

Kitty tried getting in, but it was locked.

'Lydia, do not make me do something so unbefitting a lady!' she said intending to break the door down.

A great thud was heard as if somebody had fallen on the floor.

Kitty shrieked and pounded on the door.

Sighing, she stepped back and pushed the door as hard as she could. After consecutive tries, she finally managed to get in.

Kitty instantly wished she had not opened the door. The sight that met her was by no means something she would have wanted to see.

Lydia was sprawled, on her knees, holding her stomach, as she vomited all that she had eaten during the day in a large, horrid looking heap in front of her.

'L-Lydia…what in the world…'

'Go away, Kitty!' she yelled trying to get up. It is then that Catherine noticed the growing belly which Lydia was trying to cover.

'Lydia! You are…you are with child!'

'I am not!' she yelled and crying knelt on the floor again.

Some minutes passed before Kitty lay down with her as well.

'Lydia…why did you not tell anyone?'

'I was ashamed…ashamed that…oh, dear Lord, ashamed that I am no longer beautiful…I am deformed! And the embarrassment of having a child at my age, with a dead father!'

'But that is no reason of embarrassment…women look beautiful when they…'Kitty said weakly.

'Oh, shut up!' she said sourly.

'Will you tell mama and papa?'

'I'll have to…for I do not trust you to keep it quiet.'

'They will be very happy, I am sure.'

'I am not, however.'

Lydia got up and started to clean the dirt and vomit as she fetched her black dress and hastily put it on.

'You do not mean you are still going tonight!'

'Oh, yes, I am, but do not fret, I shall tell mama and papa first thing tomorrow morning…but let us enjoy the time remained.'

'The time remained?'

'Until everyone knows of…this,' she said pointing at her stomach.

Kitty said no more, shocked as she was and both girls prepared silently to go down to the carriage.

Mrs. Bennet was arranging Mary's bonnet in the hall and for the first time approached her on a much dreaded subject.

'Now, Mary, look sharp, you need more outings in society, for I do not want you to end up an old maid with no opportunity or prospects. I hear Mr. Abbot's son is joining his father tonight.'

'Mama, Michael Abbot is fourteen,' she said irritated.

'And what of it? You are but nineteen yourself, it is high time this old prejudice of age ended. If men can marry much younger women, why cannot women…'

'Come now, Mrs. Bennet, let Mary breathe a while,' Mr. Bennet said coming from the library as his daughter smiled relieved.

The two other sisters soon came down and the party was off to Mrs. Long's house.

Kitty had good reason to dread the event, for as soon as she arrived she spotted the Colonel sitting with a few men of the neighbourhood at a cards table.

He immediately came to make his addresses to the family and kissed Kitty's hand gently though she hardly looked at him as she found her black boots far more interesting.

Mary and Mr. Bennet retired quickly to a chess table and were engaged in their game when Mrs. Bennet came in an uproar.

'Mary! What are you doing here, playing trifles with your father? For heaven's sake come and meet the ladies and gentlemen,' she said dragging her across the drawing room, leaving Mr. Bennet in a dejected state, alone at the chess table. When he looked down he noticed Mary was a move away from check mate.

Mary thought it could be worse; she could be a wretched widow like Lydia, begging for attention and pity. Then again, at this moment, there wasn't much difference between them seeing as dozens of mothers surrounded her, proclaiming she had qualities of a parson's wife.

Mrs. Long especially, who liked her for her calm disposition that suited her racked nerves, employed in conversing with her on matters so serious, yet so boring that Mary herself couldn't suppress a yawn, no matter how much she enjoyed sermons.

She looked across the room, but could not yet find Kitty.

At length, they were all seated for dinner and Mary found herself close to the Colonel, while, ironically and sadly, Lydia had dragged Kitty to the other end of the table, where the youngest sister was telling a young gentleman how much she suffered and how hard it was to be a widow at her age, picking an invisible lint from the gentleman's coat from time to time.

Kitty had no appetite, though she had eaten nothing at all the entire day, an advice Lydia gave her so she could fit in her dress, though looking back on it, it was a cynical remark when her sister was already out of shape, what with her pregnancy.

She often looked at the Colonel, but only when he wasn't watching, which wasn't exactly hard as several meters separated them.

'Miss Bennet, I am so glad I am able to chat with you a while,' the Colonel said turning towards Mary.

'I am equally pleased, we have not shared our accounts for a long time.'

'How is everything at home? Is Miss Lydia in much pain?'

'She is bearing it surprisingly well, she has found her…happy disposition once again…in fact I'd rather say she is in much pain that she cannot discard the mourning clothes…'she replied.

'Any young woman of seventeen would act the same, depend upon it,' he said smiling.

'Perhaps…yet her odd behaviour is hindering others...' she said eyeing him.

'Is Miss Catherine well?' he asked all of a sudden.

Mary smiled. 'Not as well as I wish she would be.'

'Nothing bothering her, I hope?' he asked looking at Kitty who was talking to Lydia.

'Not much…perhaps the absence of her friends…she must take care of her sister …that brings some stress upon her,' Mary said.

'I understand…'

Dinner was very tedious, in Kitty's opinion for it could not have passed slower. She much wanted to be able to know what the Colonel and Mary were talking about, yet she dared not make Lydia too suspicious.

After the meal was over Lydia led Kitty to a corner where the ladies had gathered and were gossiping about the new shop of gowns which had opened some days ago in Meryton.

Mary could not find her father throughout the crowd and disappointedly dropped into a chair, thinking she much wanted to be at home.

The music started, however and a small dance was prepared for the couples who wanted "a bit of sport" as Mrs. Long put it for she admitted, modestly, this could barely be called a dancing party.

A small area of the room was cleared for the few couples that dared and though many mothers whispered outraged at the eccentricities of old Mrs. Long and some gentlemen chuckled disdainfully at this poor arrangement, everyone was generally pleased with such oddity.

Lydia turned to look at the assembly and laughed good-heartedly.

'Of, for Pete's sake, how embarrassing, who would want to dance like that?' she asked mockingly as the other ladies laughed and fanned themselves with studied elegance.

Kitty crossed her fingers and smiled sadly.

'Miss Bennet.'

She turned abruptly. The Colonel was standing in front of her.

'Ladies, I hope you are enjoying yourselves,' he said amiably as one or two of them started giggling.

'Miss Catherine…' he started again, 'may I have this dance?'

Kitty stared at him bewildered, but her eyes were softened with pleasure and she was about to raise her hand to his when she caught Lydia smirking at her and making strange signs in the direction of the gentleman.

She quickly reconsidered.

'I would like to, but I'm afraid I am very tired, Sir, some other time…' she said feebly.

His disappointed look pierced her heart deeply and he only bowed respectfully and walked away.

As soon as he was gone all the girls started laughing insolently.

'What an old dog!'

'Ah, professing admiration to poor Kitty!'

'Ridiculous!'

'Oh, but Kitty would never accept so low an offer,' Lydia said pressing her sister's hand.

Kitty smiled weakly.

This sad event had not missed Mary and, though not as distressed as Kitty, she could but presume how miserable her sister felt.

Oh, wicked Lydia…she couldn't help thinking.

For the rest of the evening, Kitty laughed and forced herself to forget, though she could barely suppress her looks.

Mary managed to find her father and informed him that Kitty was not feeling well and for the sake of her spirits, they should leave immediately. This was said in such serious tones that Mr. Bennet decided to take her advice as it was late and he disliked his companion, an old farmer who knew not what a bishop was at chess.

Mrs. Bennet, though lively and talkative admitted to being tired and there being nothing else to do, since Mary had not talked to any young man and Kitty and Lydia had remained in that small corner throughout the evening.

The Bennets thus soon took leave of the party, with Lydia complaining the noise had much distressed her.

As they arrived at their carriage, Kitty saw with horror that the Colonel was taking his leave as well.

He saw her from afar and nodded politely, though sadness could be depicted in his eyes. Kitty feigned to go to him, but Lydia grasped her arm tightly and pulled her towards the carriage.

'Come now, Kitty, stop looking after beaus.'

The Colonel turned and entered the carriage quickly, driving away without noticing Kitty had not yet got in.

If he had stayed but a minute longer, he would have perhaps seen the saddest, most pained and mortified look that a young girl could have expressed through her eyes, as she looked at the spot where his carriage had been with much shattered illusions.

That night, while Lydia was snoring loudly beside Kitty, she silently got up and went out of the room, not being able to shut an eye.

Kitty wondered through the house aimlessly but finally came to Mary's room and knocked slowly.

Not receiving an answer, she turned the knob and entered the small room. As she sat on Mary's bed, the inhabitant opened her eyes slowly.

'Kitty?' she asked sleepily. 'What are you doing here?'

'Mary, I…'

'Do you want me to light a candle?'

'No…it is much better like this.'

'Kitty, I saw how dreadful you looked tonight.'

'It was nothing.'

Mary sighed frustrated and got up, sitting beside Kitty.

'Do not let Lydia ruin your happiness…you shall deeply regret it.'

'What happiness can you mean? After tonight, I doubt the Colonel shall ever speak to me again.'

'I do not think the same…he…really does love you Kitty.'

'I don't…I don't love him,' Kitty whispered. 'I do…care, but I don't feel anything of the kind. Yet I owe him many things.'

'Then perhaps it's better for him to be out of your way since you cannot return his feelings.'

Kitty clenched her fists and looked at Mary oddly.

'No…'

'But the poor man suffers…'

'So do I,' she said hotly.

'Yet you do not…'

'Love him, that's right,' Catherine replied looking away.

'Then…'

'I can't sleep.'

'Oh…do you want to stay here?' Mary asked politely.

'Will you not be upset?'

'Why should I?'

'I…I made you return to this little room,' she said shyly.

'I like my solitude.'

Kitty did not say anything more, but crawled in the sheets next to her sister.

'Will…will I ever see him again?' she mumbled inaudibly.

'Did you say something, Kitty?'

'Nothing at all.'

Morning came with bad weather and icy roads as November was now approaching and one could not go around the house without a flannel.

Mr. Bennet was reading his newspaper as he sipped from his cup and Lydia was eating toast and butter at the other end of the table.

On waking up, Lydia had not been alarmed not to find Kitty with her, presuming she had got up earlier, but now she looked curiously around, as if searching for her sister.

Mrs. Bennet came in lazily and placed herself at the head of the table, bidding her good mornings to her daughter.

'Oh, I wish those lazy girls could be like my Lydia, so fresh at this early hour.'

As if on a call Mary came down joined by Kitty who, though indisposed, looked more tired from a sleepless night.

They both sat down to breakfast and some trifle conversation soon ensued. Mary wanted to attempt to soothe her sister's spirits thus she dared confront her mother on a subject on which she soon found out she would have done much better to remain quiet.

'Mama, perhaps we should call on the Lucases today, to talk more of the winter plans, since nothing was established last night.'

Mr. Bennet looked up from his newspaper, but Mary smiled knowingly at him.

'Oh, why trouble yourself my dear, we would find only petty people, troubled by their own ignorance,' she said bitterly.

Mary looked confused.

'I received a note from Lady Lucas which informed me Colonel Fitzwilliam left Hertfordshire last night to rush to Derbyshire, since he insisted he could not stay longer. Of course, the man did not even hint at the engagement between him and Maria. She's afraid all has gone off and is in bad spirits…so is her daughter of course so there's no use to try and deal with them,' she said.

Mary instantly looked at Kitty who had stopped eating and simply looked down, without moving.

After some moments she raised her head and smiled.

'Has gone off you say? Probably…Maria will become a nun for sure,' she said laughing ironically.

Mary stared at her.

Breakfast went on with no further remark on this subject and when Kitty, Mary and Lydia made to go into the parlour, Catherine stopped near the stairs whispering to Mary.

'I am perfectly well, do not worry yourself. Knowing that Maria Lucas will not have him either brings me great joy.'

Mary sat on the stairs, looking in front of her sadly and contemplating how all this had gone wrong.

In the parlour, Kitty however, had started pestering Lydia.

'Tell them, Lydia, you promised.'

'Not this morning please…' she mumbled lazily.

'Tell them or I will,' Kitty said weakly.

'Tell what, my dear?' Mrs. Bennet asked entering the room.

Mary stared at the pieces of dust on the banister and thought she should perhaps write a letter to the Colonel, trying to explain Kitty's behaviour, but she realised it would have been a ridiculous trial.

A loud yelp brought her to her feet. It came from the parlour.

'With child?' Miss Bennet shrieked as she dropped on the sofa, fanning herself rapidly.

'Now, mama, recollect yourself, I am a widow, I can have children, can I not?' Lydia said briskly, not being aware of the paradoxical sense of her words.

'Oh, Lydia, my baby…pregnant! And you didn't say a word!'

Mary stood in the doorway at a loss for words.

'That is why I was wearing those horrid dresses mama,' she explained bored.

Kitty tried comforting her mother, thinking she was perhaps in despair, but as soon as Lydia and she started telling her of it in detail she sprang up, wiped the sweat from her forehead and started calling for Mr. Bennet.

'Oh, glorious day! Jane and now you! It is as fate wants it! Oh, how happy I should be with so many grandchildren to keep me company on my dying bed! Mr. Bennet! Oh, but Lydia, how could you have been ashamed? You are a most honourable woman!'

Mr. Bennet did not take the news as well as her mother and only thought this was a larger problem than everyone saw, for having no husband to provide for her, Lydia would have to raise her own child, with the help of her parents, unless she remarried.

Thus he sat down in his armchair by the fire, surprised and disappointed at having to bear witness to Lydia's fate. A grandchild was reason of joy and he did feel glad for it, but as a man of more than fifty, he knew the hardships of life could not be ignored with petty romance.

'You are going to be an auntie, Mary,' Lydia said amused.

'The goal of my entire existence, I am sure,' she replied but smiled.

'Now Lydia,' Mrs. Bennet started, having now the same thoughts as Mr. Bennet, regarding her daughter's marital status, 'it is most important for you to get married as soon as possible. I do not know how our family shall provide for a baby and Mr. Bennet, Lord knows how long he'll live. And you cannot bring up the baby by yourself, not at this age…and we cannot afford a governess.'

Lydia, instead of souring and becoming fearful, only became happier, for this meant she was to go out in society again and seek a match, her favourite thing to do in the world.

Of course, she realised it wouldn't be the same, what with her growing belly, but somehow, a wily smile remained plastered on her face all throughout Mrs. Bennet's speech as if she knew exactly what to do.