Chapter 19: Making Plans
It was obviously hard for Mrs. Bennet to say goodbye to Kitty as she stepped out of the carriage for the last time to embrace her. After that, Kitty would climb in and be on her way with the Colonel, far away from her childhood home.
It was harder for Kitty, though, who still thought she would not depart and it would only be a long holiday from which she would return.
Mother and daughter wept together for misunderstood reasons as the horses strutted impatiently in front of the carriage. The Colonel smiled sadly and was only a bit frightened that Kitty would suddenly change her mind and follow her parents instead of coming with him.
However, Catherine Fitzwilliam was still a Bennet by blood and she would not back down half-way through. Her father was proud of her for that and he refused to appear sad and nostalgic. He was rather happy and excited for his daughter's bright future.
A biting wind swept them all and Mary had to tighten her shawl as she looked over the fields of her home, through which she would venture alone from now on. But she smiled happily, thinking there would be great opportunities for the sisters to reunite after Kitty returned from Bath and…knowing Kitty, she would have a lot to tell from that journey.
The family stood reunited on the porch of their house, paying their adieus to a dear member that was going away, for how long, no one can know.
Even Roberta was there, holding her rolling pin aloof as she wiped tears from her eyes. Catherine had always loved to bake with her and sing to her some pretty songs she had learnt at church. Now, no one would entertain her so in the kitchen.
Louise would have waved to her merrily had she not been ashamed by Lydia who stood next to her and looked condescendingly at her sister, knowing well that even if Kitty had married she was still the mature one, for she was to become mother.
Nevertheless, she was quite sad to see her go. Of course, she would have never admitted it, but she did feel a pang at seeing her so happy to leave. She thought bitterly Catherine was happy not to have to be by her side anymore.
'Please take care and mind the wind! The roads are not yet safe, it has been a rough winter and I see spring is yet to come fully so you need be very careful with the roads and you too Colonel! Heavens, don't rush the horses, you will get there in no time,' Mrs. Bennet implored them as she tied once again Kitty's bonnet which she considered was not tied firmly enough.
'We will take all the care in the world, mama.'
'Fear not, madam, I have travelled on these roads so many times it could be a blizzard now and nothing would stop our arriving safe,' the Colonel spoke grasping Kitty's hand. 'Besides, now that I have a companion, there's not much to fear, for solitude has been banished.'
Mr. Bennet was fairly pleased, but his wife was sure the man was pulling her leg so she made them both promise they would each write to her separate letters once they arrived in Bath.
Another fifteen minutes were lost as Mrs. Bennet kissed both the bride and groom one last time and bade all do the same.
Mary embraced her sister tightly, knowing she would not see her in a long time.
'Be back soon, do not be late,' she whispered in her ear. 'And pray be happy, Catherine, be happy for that is what life is for.'
Kitty was firm enough not to shed any tears, but when she finally pulled the carriage doors shut, she let them stroll down her cheeks.
Her family watched the carriage depart slowly down the path, across thickets and hedges until they reached the steep road.
She did not look back at them for fear she would want to go back and embrace them one more time. They all waved happily at her, hoping fate would smile upon her future with the Colonel.
An hour passed until her tears finally stopped and then she noticed that all this time she had been holding her husband's hand so tight that it was quite red now.
Kitty had not shut an eye for the past two days and now she realised she could not hold her head up from too much drowsiness.
Thus, without thinking any further of her family or the road, she leant her head on the Colonel's shoulder and fell into a dreamless sleep.
He smiled and brushed her hair out of her face gently.
Outside, spring was blooming.
The first three days in the Bennet household were very confusing for all its inhabitants. Without Kitty, the house seemed to lack something, a certain something which had always been there and now that it was gone, no one knew how to cope with the empty space left behind.
Emptiness does not exist. It is only humans not being able to fill it. And now, no one knew how to fill Kitty's place.
It was always the same when Lydia left, when Jane left, when Lizzie left. The house would lose a soul, the house would gain a silence.
Lydia had returned, but it had not been the same playful, cheeky daughter, with dreams of gowns and parties. A bitter woman with a child in her womb had returned and she had not filled Lydia's place.
The only one left was Mary who had not been taken away, replaced or changed. She remained as she had been ever since her sisters had departed one by one. One could say she remained faithful to her family.
This was noticed by Mr. Bennet who came to love her more for being the only one to have remained by his side. It was perhaps a selfish love, but at his age, it was all he could give after he had been robbed of all children.
Mrs. Bennet, however, was of different opinion. She was, in fact, quite cross to see that after all her trials there still remained one to be taken care of and she knew this one would prove to be especially difficult.
The problem with mothers who have many daughters is that they try to fit them all in, into the same pack. If Jane and Lizzie had married so well, why couldn't have Kitty and Lydia followed their example?
Her hopes had been thwarted to see someone as good as Lydia, in her eyes, marry a red coat and end in ruin. Not to mention someone as fair as Kitty marry a dignified man, quite true, but a mediocre one in her eyes, nonetheless.
So then, what could she hope for Mary? She had neither looks nor talents to recommend her. She was not nearly as accomplished as Jane or Lizzie, she thought, thus it would be even harder to manage her marrying well.
Yet, she considered she should not bother herself too much right away, after all, she had just parted from one daughter, she had enough to think about and do.
And so, for some time her mother did not consider any other schemes or future plans. She knew time would come and she hoped a decent man like the reverend's son might do the job.
Such peace for a while was blessed for Mary who was very happy with her mother's indifference, if nothing else soothed her.
She had decided not to stand victim of boredom and loneliness; she would occupy herself and not fall into idleness. At first, her mother had proposed she stay with Lydia, but thankfully, Mrs. Wickham refused, specifying she needed the "apartment" for herself since she had to take care of two.
Mary was only too happy to comply since she had no wish to be Lydia's companion. No one did but for her mother and everyone was pleased with that arrangement.
The last Miss Bennet turned her attention to improving her German and Ancient Greek skills. Whilst she was knowledgeable in both French and Latin, she lacked the same dexterity at the other two.
Thus she set to work in her own room, carrying her books from the library in great excitement and scheduling every day to be a new improvement of her intellect.
Her small happiness was very comforting and she felt invigorated and refreshed to see she had activities to make her busy. She enjoyed learning, she always had and she only regretted having been too miserable in winter to read anything else than pompous writing by Burke or Gothic romances by Mrs. Radcliffe.
Now that she had set herself to work she found the task quite manageable. Whilst she had never enjoyed German she assured herself it was worth all her trouble, for, there might be times when she might be in need of it.
Though she wouldn't admit it to herself, she was thinking of the future in such terms and her studying also foresaw her plans of earning her own bread. Unconsciously, she knew what a woman could do on this Earth. Either become a wife or a governess. If fate secured her the second place she would be ready; after all, she had inclinations toward such things.
Mary rose every morning and washed herself with cold water before running down to the kitchen to help prepare breakfast. It was a little habit which she had enjoyed since childhood.
After an hour of eating in the company of her parents and sister she would retire to her room where she spent a good five hours studying.
Louise would sometimes bring her a cup of tea and some bread and butter, but she would not be too tempted to touch them until it was well in the afternoon.
At four o' clock she stopped her work and dined alone in the kitchen, for no one minded that she would usually do so and not join the family in the dining room at lunch time. In fact, most of the times, Mary could be seen joining them at breakfast only.
After having dined, she would take her coat and bonnet and venture on a stroll across the meadows. She had always believed that fresh air was necessary for those who strived mentally, rather than physically. It did well to the mind and reminded her of happier times with her sisters.
Usually, she would return in an hour and a half, after which she took a seat in the library and enjoyed some light reading. This continued long into the evening, until feeling too tired, she only went into the garden to water some of her favourite plants or help the maid feed the chicken.
Work in the house always cheered her up somehow and she felt very useful at times. Mary did feel a pang of guilt at not helping more, but she considered she had an entire lifetime to see to housework whilst the mind would decay if not attended to properly. She was utterly scared and tormented by the misfortune of being an ignorant and reaching a certain age when learning would be too late.
That would not do. Miss Bennet wanted to achieve as much knowledge as possible before she turned senile, poor thing. She did not want life to pass her without feeling she had accomplished her mind and heart's yearnings. She wished she could leave something behind after her death, but could not think of anything that would please and help humanity and that could be achieved by her.
Her only hope remained her books and she knew that through them she could reach high places. Surely, she could never attend universities like Cambridge, she was not allowed, but she desired to be at least worthy of attending. Somehow, whether she became a governess or not, she had to prove herself, she had to prove she could do more than that.
Many a times she scolded herself for not having been keener as a child. She had studied and read a great deal to entertain and comfort herself mostly. Only when she grew up to be a young lady did she aspire to greater things. Her inspiration had been Lizzie. Lizzie who, without so much knowledge and impressive accomplishments, could befuddle the wisest men of England!
Mary had not such charms, but she decided that she would come to show the world she could do great things as well, only her path would be different, it would be that of study and scholastic interests.
Women were undermined for they were considered indifferent to politics, books, art, law…anything which enticed the mind. She would be an exception, like many before her who had tried, but had failed admirably.
Not Mary Bennet, not her. She would succeed, some way or another.
Of course, such discourses she made to herself almost every day that passed, but bitterness would not shadow her bright thoughts.
Sometimes, she was in dire need of some books which could only be found in town, but not trusting her father to get her the right ones, she went herself and spent hours delving through them and helping her father with his purchases.
She hated town; it was a fact. In this she resembled her father completely, but, at length she grew considerably more tolerant to it, for it provided her with some things she could not find anywhere else. There were times, not few, when even the town could not offer her what she demanded, but she did not let this dampen her spirits.
Whilst Mary found nothing to sadden her or turn her melancholy, her father was having quite a different view on things.
Once a week, he locked himself up in his study and made some calculations on a yellow sheet of parchment which he showed to no one.
Many sums and numbers were spread on it as he cut and wrote under them new numbers and new sums which either made him frown or sigh.
He wished ardently to be able to leave his girls more than he could.
Even though Mrs. Bennet assured him there would be no trouble in Lydia finding a husband to provide for her, he knew better. He understood that whilst Lydia was pretty and charming in her way, she was by no means patient, kind and considerate. Though he had heard she had taken great care of her husband when he was ill, he thought that was the result of Lydia's pride and blind love for Wickham. If her husband had died in her hands, people would have considered her irresponsible and wicked. The truth was Lydia did not have half the attributes Kitty had when it came to being a good wife.
And he worried, like any father did, notwithstanding all the trouble this cheeky daughter had caused. Should she be left alone, she would have to take care of a baby as well, which was no easy business.
Perhaps he could sell this and do that…he thought bitterly. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…
He didn't need so many servants, there weren't even half the people left in the house, he would dispose of three immediately.
Mr. Bennet knew he could never accept the help of Mr. Darcy again. After what he had done for him with Lydia and Wickham he had felt ashamed enough and he would only feel offended in the future if the deed was repeated.
Mr. Bingley was out of the question as well, for having sisters, a wife and surely, many children to come, knowing him and Jane, Charles wouldn't be able to spare too much for his two daughters and poor wife.
He could only hope that after his death, should they not be married, the two girls could perhaps stay with one of the families.
He knew his wife and Lydia wouldn't mind, but he fretted for Mary. She would never be content with such arrangement. As he knew her, she would try to find means for herself, but maybe her pride could be moulded with time. Surely, she would not hunger if she were offered a home.
When he thought of his third daughter and what he could provide for her, his heart swelled as he acknowledged the fact that, whatever he could give her would never be truly good enough.
He had noticed Mary was a woman of intellect. It was not money that kept her going and a humble home and enough to eat so she would not die of starvation would not do for her. Unless she raised herself in society, her skills would only come to ruin.
But he could not do much about it; it was up to her to elevate herself. He could only offer some small fortune for her sustenance and even that was scarce.
He felt somewhat relieved that his first daughters had married so well and knew he was quite a lucky man to have assured at least three of them good homes. Others could not do so even for one daughter.
He only hoped now, he would not die too soon. A grey thought for such a blithe man, but he saw his death as an end to others, not to himself.
March would soon come to an end and Mr. Bennet decided he would go visit Mr. Collins. He knew the man was proud and ignorant, likely not to lend an ear to his distress, but rather talk of his garden and pigs, yet some sense he must have since he married Charlotte.
He did not share this with his wife, but decided to go alone. Mrs. Bennet would find out eventually, but he would suffer her prattle obediently when the time came.
Now, all that was left was to find an opportunity for his departure which would not make rise for discussion. He waited the right time for this.
It was a bright, fairly warm afternoon when Mary went for her usual walk after her hours of study. She chose to follow the path that led to church, thinking she might be able to talk to the reverend, who was a Methodist and one of the wisest elders in the Shire. Discussions with him always brought her benefits for he recommended all sorts of books and materials she should perhaps inquire into. Not to mention, his advice on conduct was quite valuable as it encouraged moral growth.
The elder was not as well listened as when he talked to Mary, for there could be no better listener. They usually sat on a small wooden bench in the cemetery, overlooking the green valley at their feet as they engaged in talks of Saint Augustine of Hippo and the real cause of the original sin.
Such talks amused them both, but made Mary understand that people could have different opinions, different beliefs, but they all had a beating heart and hidden passions which they would enable on the world through their love for the essence of beauty. Beauty was in everything around her, beauty was in the mind. But the priceless and artless beauty, the pure and perfect one was inside a human being and it was shown in his creation.
'And how is your studying going?' he would ask of her.
'Fairly well, but I need more reading material from Hellenica, by Xenophon. I have read from Thucydides as much as I could, yet some parts still puzzle me. It is a pity you cannot be of any help, Sir.'
'My great passion and talent is Latin, I call it a talent for many of my colleagues tell me I have had no trouble in learning it so well.'
Such were their talks and they continued on subjects intricate and vast but troublesome, for many a times Mary disagreed with the old man.
Yet, he was a good listener as well and a good guidance in her tasks, for her parents did not give much encouragement.
Mrs. Bennet was quite pleased with her talks with him, since she considered her daughter did it more in the hope that the reverend's son might perhaps take an interest in her.
But as I was saying, Mary had gone on her usual walk that bright afternoon when a pretty carriage stopped in front of the Bennet house.
It was a well-known carriage and Mrs. Bennet did not even wait to fix her hair as she skipped outside happily to welcome her dear brother and his wife; the Gardiners.
Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had come late this year, for they had not had an opportunity to spend Christmas at Longbourn. They considered they could make up for the days lost by stopping by for a short while, which pleased Mrs. Bennet thoroughly.
Guests were always welcomed since they brought news and merriment to the silent, dull household. Mr. Bennet, who was not usually so cheerful at the prospect, was this time more interested in their arrival. He saw them as an opportunity to depart to Mr. Collins, without too much bother.
'Ah, how wonderful, you've come!' she exclaimed as she kissed her brother.
Mr. Gardiner looked prim and proper as always, showing his superiority in manner as he led the ladies inside the house, for they were making too much noise in the garden.
They all sat for tea and talked lengthily about the wedding and Kitty's excursion to Bath.
'They would have returned by now, you'd think! But, no! He has some business to attend to there so it's only good for them, they write regularly, but they promised to leave for Derbyshire at the end of this week,' Mrs. Bennet told them.
Mr. Gardiner spoke of his affairs in London and of the situation in the country. Politics were breached soon and Mrs. Bennet had to remain silent, but Mrs. Gardiner was kind enough to mention some new trifle from the capital and the two women started an idle talk of some new shops in London.
Mr. Bennet was not so keen on finding out more news from the war, since he read it in his newspaper daily and needed not to be reminded that the Parliament was praising and glorifying Wellington more than ever, but he was respectful enough to listen to all his brother-in-law had to mention.
'Do you know, it's getting on better and better, people have so much hope, nowadays! But I've told them all before; ever since 1813 things have been getting slowly better; the commercial crisis was brought to an end slowly but surely. That's how I like it. Slowly, but surely. I do not know if Europe is safe of the plots of Napoleon yet, but we can be almost sure England is. He has no chance of conquest now, unless we're all damned idiots and let all our efforts go to waste.'
'Quite so…quite so…' muttered Mr. Bennet.
'I must say I've been having my own ruckuses. Business has not been going so well as of late and we almost had to cancel our trip. Luckily, my dear Mrs. Gardiner is a crafty woman and she advised me to get a partner. This way, as we have no children and I am getting older by the minute, I shall be able to handle my business easier.
And I found a magnificent chap and friend in a Mr. Toddler. He has some small affairs with linen factories and before, he had worked in timber yards and had done a splendid job there…so it was very lucky of me to find him and he's young too. Very agreeable fellow and very well-read. The only glitch about him is that he's so damned paranoid all the time that he rarely does anything without his lawyer. He sticks with him in almost every tiding which is shameful for a man of his age, but I won't comment further.
He has done me good so I do not mind him not being thick-skinned. I've met many of those who had half his nerve and ambition. In any case, he has done wonders to the profits, we joined incomes and businesses, I might say, for I had to deal with linen and hoses so much that I can say I could do it for him. We've decided we shall call it Gardiner's and Toddler's. Before, it was only Gardiner's.'
'I am glad to hear of it, I was afraid there were problems…' Mr. Bennet spoke in his usual tone.
'If problems exist we must make do with them as we can, it is our fate,' spoke Mrs. Gardiner suddenly.
'And did you spend Christmas alone, you poor dears?' inquired Mrs. Bennet.
'Fret not, we had some company; London is very kind to us. We were invited by Mr. Toddler to his gathering. He is friends with many traders from his cloth industry and we cannot say they weren't all pleasing gentlemen, though few of them possessed manners as my husband's. It was a very entertaining evening, many apt men were to be found in the room and a great deal of charming ladies as well, though I confess, most of them were not wives of the afore mentioned men,' continued Mrs. Gardiner.
'How lovely, it is a shame you couldn't have joined us though. Pemberley shone with delight, so many pleasing acquaintances, the Ball Room looked splendid and the dinner was impeccable; we had four assortments of cakes and we had both poultry and veal. Quite a feast,' added Mrs. Bennet proudly.
'Well, we do promise next year we shan't be as occupied as we were, but you can understand, what with business and everything, we could not refuse Mr. Toddler, at least not the first time. When we wrote to you we only told you we had too much on our hands to be able to leave London, but the truth was, we were not sure whether Mr. Toddler's party would be up to scratch so we were uncomfortable to speak offhand,' said Mr. Gardiner apologetically.
Mrs. Bennet was pleased enough and was thoroughly satisfied when she perceived their dinner at Pemberley had been infinitely superior to that of Mr. Toddler.
When tea was almost over, Lydia came down from her rest to welcome her aunt and uncle. However, neither was too warm and obliging. Mrs. Gardiner would barely look at her and it was Mr. Gardiner, who seeing her wretched state, decided to shake hands and inquire after her health.
A humbler soul would have kept their head down and answered politely, but Lydia brandished her belly with no shame and spoke in pained, condescending tones of her grief that her uncle gave it up eventually.
'And what news of the fashions of London, Mrs. Gardiner?' she asked.
'Not much, dear, I believe young ladies this year need only have a little white frock for good times and lace on their lapels to seem charming…' she replied coldly.
'Oh, how you laugh at me, Mrs. Gardiner,' Lydia replied laughing sweetly.
The other did not smile or show any sign of amusement, so, in the end Lydia had to retire, bidding her adieus after noticing her relatives would not pay much attention to her.
As she made her way up the stairs, muttering about how even uncles and aunts could be so rude, Mrs. Bennet took this opportunity to remind the Gardiners how they had been so kind to take Lizzie with them on their trip the year before.
'It was obliging of you, since we all know Lizzie had much luck thanks to your kind care. It is a pity poor Lydia cannot travel at such time, it would have done her so well to leave for a while and have a change of scenery. Poor thing, after such a tragedy…'
'Yes, it was unfortunate, but a woman is prone to suffer so…' said Mrs. Gardiner slightly put out.
'However, I was considering, perhaps Mary would be able to join you, if Lydia is confined to bed and well…I do think Mary…' stuttered Mrs. Bennet.
'Mary?' exclaimed Mrs. Gardiner. 'To come with us?'
'Why, yes, to London, it would do her well, she sits all day inside with her books, one should think it's a bit distressing. She has never been outside of Hertfordshire with the goal of travelling, mostly she went to see her sisters.'
Seeing Mrs. Gardiner's surprised face, Mrs. Bennet continued.
'Would that be a great bother? I should think Mary is quite well-bred…'
'Oh, no! It's nothing of the sort, we adore Mary, she is such a quiet, bright girl, but…I was under the impression she hated town, especially London.'
Mr. Bennet could not help chuckling silently.
Mrs. Bennet intervened flustered.
'Hate London?' she asked scandalized. 'Heavens no! The poor child simply cannot get enough of the outdoors! Why, as I have told you when you came, she is out on a walk, but this could only mean she wishes to go out more. I tell you, she goes with her father to town every time she…well every time and London would be such an attraction to her for you know…she is quite elevated, what would a small town do for her?'
Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner looked at each other doubtfully, but as they liked Mary just as well as Lizzie, they only nodded silently and talked of how this journey was to be planned.
'You told them what?' Mary asked baffled.
'I did it for your own good, dear, now lower your voice, Lydia is trying to sleep!'
'Where have they gone to? I must speak to them immediately…'
'Hush, dear, hush, they went to call on the Lucases, but calm down and sit,' ordained Mrs. Bennet.
'How could you tell them I love town and am particularly partial to London?'
'I did not say so exactly, I merely implied you would like to go out more often, look how every afternoon you go wondering on those meadows by yourself!'
'I simply take my exercise, for heaven's sake it is nothing of the sort you think! Mama, I do not like towns, you know that well, we must tell the Gardiners the truth, instead of making them spend on my account.'
'Spend on your account! Well, whom should they spend on? They have no children, they would die buried with the money? Besides, London will do you very well, you will see, it is…all so different…and so fascinating for a curious mind such as yours.'
'What is so fascinating about London?'
'Well…just think of all the charming youths of your age you could meet, who could be such amiable friends…'
'Why don't you tell me what this is all really about, mother! You want me to go with the Gardiners because you believe they enabled Lizzie to get married. Is that your actual intention? London would offer me chances to…'
'It's true that did cross my mind, but why is it so bad for me to hope you would enter a more distinguished society? It's not like I even hope you could do anything here! It's good enough I tried with Kitty and look where it got.'
'She married the Colonel, the man she loved and a very honourable man at that!'
'I know that very well, but he's not Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley. If Kitty married only the Colonel, then I assumed you could not do better. But here is a chance! Mary, dear, here is a chance not only to meet new people but to broaden your horizons. Perhaps all your mentalities about tradesmen and middle-class gentlemen will end when you discover how pleasing they are!'
'And the only means for me to do so is go to London?'
'What better place?'
Mary scowled and turned to leave, but her mother pulled her by the hand gently and took the book out of her hand.
'I see you are still interested in Ancient Greek. I never had the fortune to study it. Wouldn't you be needing a new grammar book? I happened to hear you couldn't find one in town. In London, dear, you could find as many grammars as you like.'
Mary raised her eyebrow, but said nothing.
'Why, you don't believe me? The best libraries and book-shops are not in Hertfordshire, for goodness' sake. The place of study, law, politics and anything to occupy the mind is in London! And all the other places show no sparkle as the capital which is so busy and delightful, especially this time of year.'
Mary pondered her mother's words as she thumbed her book.
'I…I admit you have a point there.'
'And, I would have told you earlier if you had let me, but Mr. Gardiner promised me he would take you to some offices of trades and law to see how the work is done. He'll show you the books and everything! Is not that pleasing to you?'
Mary wrinkled her brows in consent but said nothing.
'Come now, you shall only stay for a fortnight if you wish it so. Your father will be joining you, he wants to check his will again, I told him not to be so morbid, but he would not listen.'
She looked up surprised.
'Father is coming as well?'
'Only for a short while…he will return home in two days. And he thinks it's an ingenious idea…'
Seeing as her daughter gave her a look she corrected herself.
'Alright, alright, he thought it was a nice idea, since…since he would like you to see the capital for once.'
Mary sighed and headed for the stairs in thought.
'Well…I guess…Hm… I guess it wouldn't be so bothersome. I guess…I could go.'
'Oh! I knew you would come to your senses,' her mother exclaimed happily as she walked with her to her room.
There! Who can reproach me that I do not know my daughters well? Mrs. Bennet thought smiling slyly.
It was well established. Mary Bennet would leave for London with her aunt and uncle in but three days. The Gardiners had to hurry back home, the business was not so safe to abandon for too long a time, but Mrs. Bennet did not complain and only busied herself with Mary's luggage.
Lydia was so jealous and displeased that she barely spoke to anyone and only opened her mouth to accuse her uncle of favouring Mary.
No one minded her too much in these circumstances, but the new attention Mary had received did not make her as happy as Lydia would have been in her place.
Her annoyance with her mother was slight, but it was kindled by her wandering in her room all the time, fetching new clothes and emptying her wardrobe.
Mary sat at the window on her last night home and watched the sky. The stars weren't many but it was enough to make one wistful. It would be a clear, sunny day tomorrow, the skies seemed peaceful.
She wondered how it would be. She wondered how London would be. Questions in her mind could not yet be answered, but she was encouraged by her father's accompanying her.
It was her first real outing, for her visits to Derbyshire and Kent could not be called outings. This time she would have no sister to care for or parent to attend. It was almost frightening. Mary Bennet had been taught from an early age to sit behind or apart from the others and watch from afar. She would cling to Jane or Lizzie when she was little or hide under her father's cloak when no sister was there.
Then she had taken care of Lydia and Kitty when she grew older and from then on it had been a known path of shadows for her. But she had been pleased with this arrangement, she was embarrassed to go out in public. Her faults and shortages pained her for she thought herself unworthy of company. She believed herself ignorant and thought that when she had enough knowledge to perhaps become a good governess, she might have the courage to try and converse with those around her.
Until then, silence was her only attribute in large groups. This is not to say she did not possess some skills of conversation; it was obvious from her talks with Georgiana she enjoyed them, but her inferiority complex kept her at a distance.
At times, she thought this a virtue. But as she grew older, she discovered it was more and more a handicap. She was who she was, however and improvement could only be acquired with patience and persistence.
Maybe this trip would suit her, maybe not. She would try and make the best of it and if she returned home with nothing improved in her manner, she would at least have purchased some long-yearned books.