One day further on …

Mrs. Longden, and her charges, both formal and informal, were in the music room. The atmosphere was relaxed, Mrs. Bennet having taken herself off to Lucas Lodge, to bemoan the treatment meted out to her by her family and that horrid companion (Lady Lucas listened with every appearance of sympathy but could not but wonder how she might place her daughter, Maria, under the tutelage of that companion).

Only Miss Mary and Miss Gardiner dared to take up Mrs. Longden's invitation to play the pianoforte. She allowed them to choose which pieces they would play.

Miss Mary chose a dirge, and in playing it certainly created the apropos mood – it left Mrs. Longden feeling quite depressed.

Miss Lydia called out "Enough of that mournful stuff, Mary, play something we could dance to if …" Her voice trailed off as she saw the end of Mrs. Longden's yardstick pointing at her. "Sorry, ma'am."

Once she was satisfied as to Miss Lydia's silence, Mrs. Longden asked "Miss Mary, do you have an Irish or Scottish air you could play for us?"

Mary allowed that she did, although it was obvious she was not happy that she did. She played one she knew by heart. There was no enthusiasm in her performance although she played it well - her audience seemed to enjoy it, Misses Lydia, Kitty and Gardiner sported smiles and seemed to be tapping their toes in time. Even Miss Bennet sported an enigmatic smile.

Mrs. Longden recalled Mr. Bingley's observation that Miss Mary was in need of a music master; certainly, she needed help with some technical details, but her main problem seemed to be her attitude towards music – she did not seem to find any joy in it. Mrs. Longden wondered if a music master could even help her find it.

Miss Gardiner played Mozart's 'Ah, vous dirai-je, Maman.' She played without much musical skill but with a great deal of enjoyment. The fun she exhibited earned her much deserved applause from her cousins.

Mrs. Longden had noticed that the pianoforte seemed to be slightly out of tune, and that certain keys seemed to stick. Miss Mary told her that sometimes she had to tune it twice a day but it rapidly fell out of tune. She had Miss Mary open the pianoforte up and considered the innards. It looked like it had been recently tenanted by a rat who had had to unexpectedly vacate with not much time to pack. She would have to speak to Mr. Bennet about acquiring a new one.

Lydia and Kitty seemed to be under the impression they had dodged exposure of their musical shortcomings. They were mistaken. They argued that there were no other instruments in the music room. Mrs. Longden pointed out that they had voices.

Accompanied by Mrs. Longden, Miss Gardiner sang three verses of the English lyrics to 'Ah, vous dirai-je, Maman.' Her performance exhibited a childlike delight which Mrs. Longden hoped she could maintain into adulthood. So many young ladies approached music as a chore rather than as a delight.

Mrs. Longden asked Miss Bennet to take Miss Gardiner to her brothers who were playing in the garden and then she, if she wished, could rejoin them. Mrs. Longden had found a portfolio of Charles Dibdin's songs and was going to have her charges sing 'The Joys of the Country.' She did not want to have to explain the bawdy allusions to Miss Gardiner; on the other hand, she was curious as how her charges would handle them.

Miss Mary hit most of the notes and sang the words, but her disapproval of the latter drained all the colour out of the comic song. Mrs. Longden thought she might do better with hymns, those closer to the dirge she had earlier performed.

Miss Kitty started well but her performance faltered and then stalled as she fell into a coughing fit. Miss Lydia apparently thought Mrs. Longden had not seen her poking her sister, not being aware that companions were all seeing. Going forward Mrs. Longden would separate the two sisters as much as she could. She wondered about the cough. It did not sound consumptive; no phlegm appeared to be produced. Miss Kitty also appeared to rub her chest quite often. She seemed to be a nervous sort, could she be suffering from heartburn, aggravated by her overbearing mother and younger sister? Mrs. Longden thought she might obtain some chalk lozenges from the apothecary and see if that helped Miss Kitty.

Miss Lydia rollicked through the ballad. Her performance was off-key and she mugged throughout. It would have appalled more sedate audiences but there was a certain set who would have loved it. Mrs. Longden thought that if Miss Lydia had made it to London with her Mr. Wickham, once he had abandoned her, as he surely would have, she would have been quite a success if she had ended up on the stages of Drury Lane, instead of the brothels of its neighbour, Covent Garden.

Miss Bennet returned and sang. She sang softly, so very softly that Mrs. Longden thought she wanted only to be seen, and not heard. But she could sing, if only she could project some force beyond her serenity.

-}{-

"And how much would a new pianoforte cost?" asked Mr. Bennet.

"Fifty guineas," said Mrs. Longden.

"That seems a lot to spend on something that just Mary, and occasionally Elizabeth, will pay."

"All of my charges will be made to play it. None of them are tone deaf."

Mr. Bennet thought he heard an ominous chord accompany the word 'made.' "Still, it is quite an expense."

"You will save much more than that in wardrobe costs over the next two years."

"So, I can expect to have caterwauling inflicted on me from dawn to dusk."

"We all have our crosses we must bear."

"Well, I suppose I could have the pianoforte placed in the stables for the entertainment of the horses."

"It would be better for your daughters if your bookroom were placed in the stables."

"What are you saying, madam?" Mr. Bennet glared at Mrs. Longden. "Given your position here that remark is dangerously insubordinate."

Mrs. Longden stared back at Mr. Bennet. "I will not beat around the bush. My position here is to facilitate your daughters' entry into society as proper young ladies to the point where they are able to enter into good marriages. Your attitude towards your daughters is not conducive towards that goal. If you will not cooperate it is best that I leave now rather than later when they have started to hope they might have a future."

"They have a future."

Mrs. Longden snorted. "As what? Spinsters huddled together in the hedgerows, relying on the charity of relatives, if they are lucky. Slaving away in workhouses or worse, if they are not."

Mr. Bennet reined in his anger. The blasted woman opposite was correct. He had not put a single penny aside for his daughters' dowries, all they had was his wife's settlement of five thousand, and only that after she was gone. "What do you mean my attitude?"

"I have talked to each of your daughters, other than Miss Elizabeth, at length. They have told me a lot. You ignore them as much as you can, which to be fair, the higher you rise in society, is the common attitude of tonnish fathers towards to their children. The problem is when you are not ignoring them. Then, instead of encouragement, you deride them. You might think your remarks to them are witty but they find them cruel and callous. They have each reacted in their own ways: Miss Bennet has retreated into her pearlescent shell; Miss Mary, into her puritan shell; Miss Kitty, into her sickly shell; and, Miss Lydia, into her rebellious shell. Their unanimous view is that the only daughter you care about is Miss Elizabeth, whose wit rivals your own."

Guilt fought with anger within Mr. Bennet and guilt won, at least for a time. He had enjoyed much amusement over the years laughing at the follies and nonsense of others, and he supposed that his family, as being before him the most, had borne the brunt of that laughter. He sighed to himself. "What can I do?"

"I do not expect that you can change your spots. All I ask is that, if you cannot say anything nice, then do not say anything at all." Mrs. Longden smiled at Mr. Bennet. "And keep your cheque book handy. A new pianoforte is just the first expense I will ask that you incur. Here is an advertisement for one." Mrs. Longden put it on his desk. "I am putting together a list of required masters which I should have ready in the next day or two." She stood up and curtsied. "Good day, sir."

Mr. Bennet watched her leave. Good day indeed, he snorted to himself.