Y'all, i did not expect that welcome. gave me all kine enthusiasm. makin me blush
A few days later, the family was sitting in the house. Lydia and Kitty were bickering over a bonnet. Lizzy sat beside them, ignoring the growing squabbles, working on a hat. Jane watched Mary embroider, the fabric close to her nose, almost hunched over. Jane wondered what her project would look like. In spite of choosing somber colors to wear, Mary had an eye for design.
"Oh Jane, sit up straight," Mrs. Bennet said, "you can't lose your figure." Mrs. Bennet took Jane's knitting from her hands. She then drew the curtain to put Jane in the shade before returning to her seat.
Mary's eyes flicked up, pressing her mouth into a thin line, before drawing the curtain on her side as well. The bickering at the table grew.
Jane had been subtlety scolded by Mrs. Bennet her whole life. "Jane, put that book down; you'll give yourself wrinkles!" or "Jane, put on a bonnet and gloves; you'll lose your complexion!" Lately, Mrs. Bennet had been watching Jane's consumption of food, making sure she wouldn't lose her figure.
Mrs. Bennet would also effervescently proclaim to anyone within earshot that "Jane cannot be so beautiful for nothing! She shall make the best match of the county; you may depend on that!" Jane thought it was wearisome, but she dealt with the onslaught well enough. That is, until she was just fifteen.
After the pretty verses had starved Mr. Johnson's affections, Mrs. Bennet was devastated. Jane felt like she could see the workings of her mother's mind, questioning Jane's worth, that Jane was failing. In almost confirmation of Jane's thoughts, Mrs. Bennet added another savior to her list.
"Jane cannot be so beautiful for nothing, and Lydia's liveliness will catch any man!" Instead of releasing Jane from her burden, it added to it. Even her mother, who praised her to embarrassment, was beginning to see Jane as inadequate. Mama was preparing a second, for once Jane failed. At just fifteen, Jane saw how high her mother had placed her and how far her inevitable fall would be. Even now, Jane could hear the whispers. "All that beauty, yet a spinster, dependent on her parents. She, who was supposed to save, only added to the load."
Unfortunately, Lydia had the same thoughts as Jane. Lydia was now the family's savior, her mother's absolute favorite, with no one younger to usurp her. It added fuel to the inferno that was Lydia's ego. Lydia started to push the boundary of parental rule, and when neither parent so much as checked her, she flew the school room much too early. If only her parents che—
"Jane! Unfurrow your brow; you'll give yourself wrinkles," Mrs. Bennet interrupted Jane's musings. Jane smiled softly at her mother before turning her attention to Mr. Bennet who had entered the room and was talking to Lizzy.
"I hope Mr. Bingley will like it," he grinned, darting a glance at Mrs. Bennet. He loved to watch his wife fret and fume, and he would lay traps for his own amusement. The matron, per usual, dove magnificently into the trap, resentfully stating they would never know what Mr. Bingley would like. Lizzy attempted to cajole her mother with the idea of the coming assembly. Mrs. Long was sure to facilitate the introduction.
Mrs. Bennet, however, snorted at this: "I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She had two nieces of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion of her."
Jane could see the absolute glee in her father's eyes at his wife's expense. Jane felt nervous about the assembly and whatever trick Mr. Bennet currently had. Kitty apparently had the same thought, for she inhaled too quickly and started coughing.
This brought both her parents down on her.
"Don't keep coughing so, Kitty, for heaven's sake! Have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces."
"Kitty has no discretion in her coughs; she times them very ill."
Kitty became flustered. "I do not cough for my own amusement!" and with a desperate attempt to avoid ridicule, she fretfully continued, "When is the next ball to be Lizzy?"
"Tomorrow fortnight," Lizzy smiled, not noticing the pressure building in Kitty or in Jane sitting across the room. Jane glanced about the room. Mr. Bennet's eyes practically danced while provoking his wife. Lizzy's eyes held the same gleam, wondering what the trick was and how to improve upon it. Lydia grinned at the display, waiting for Mr. Bennet to drop a delightful joke. Mrs. Bennet, took up her favorite pastime, degrading her neighbors. Mrs. Bennet had tremendous stamina when gossiping. However, Mr. Bennet cut her off, slyly informing her that he himself could make the introductions to the fearsome Mr. Bingley.
This gave everyone pause.
Mrs. Bennet could not abide it: "Nonsense!" she nearly spat. "Nonsense!" Mr. Bennet set his eye round about his daughters with a wink at Lizzy. Jane hurriedly avoided his eye by patting her mother's hand. Kitty became engrossed with the stitch work inside her bonnet. Mary, too late, tried to grab at a book.
"Mary!" Mr. Bennet called out, "You are a young lady of deep reflection; what say you?" The sarcasm lay deep. Mary wished to say something clever, something very sensible, but the frontal attack sucked the breath from her. She opened her mouth to say something, anything. But, again, too late, and her father snickered.
"While Mary is adjusting her many ideas, let us turn to Mr. Bingley," he said, turning his back to Mary, who, in turn, studiously embroidered again. This time with moist eyes and a quivering lip. Jane reached over to hold Mary's hand but was shaken off in favor of staring out the window. A trick Mary employed when her emotions were volatile. A trick she observed from Jane, who made a point to sit near a window or a fire, to have something to catch her attention if she grew too flustered.
"I have actually paid the visit; we cannot escape the acquaintance now!" Mr. Bennet declared, as if making a grand joke. This caused the mayhem the man so desired. Jane wished Mrs. Bennet wouldn't be so effusive or that Lizzy and Lydia wouldn't laugh so. It gave Mr. Bennet too much leave to say the things he had. With one last jab at Kitty, he vacated the room.
"What an excellent father you have, girls!" Mrs. Bennet declared, forgetting the last minutes of torment that Mary or Kitty had yet to compose themselves from. "Lydia, my love, though you are the youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next ball!" Mrs. Bennet turned to Lydia fully, cutting Jane out from their discussion.
Jane was astonished. Had she fallen so far that her mother wouldn't glance at her in the fabrication of the plans? At just twenty-two years old, she had failed. While the plans for the assembly and Mr. Bingley were being developed, Jane excused herself. When questioned, she stated she had drunk too much tea.
Jane rushed outside, praying for solitude. When it seemed assured, the tears sprung forth, cascading down her face before she had time to grab a handkerchief. "You're a failure," her thoughts grew uncontrolled. "Did you think you could do it? Your own family barely tolerates you. Mary can't stand to touch you."
Jane's dark thoughts swirled around her, tightening around her like a vice. She felt jerked into self-reprimands, mopping her tears hastily, in case someone came looking for her. "How could you be successful? As Papa says, you have little but beauty to recommend you. You are the least of your sisters, and you're a fool to even believe you could save them."
Jane knew why she and Elizabeth were considered the jewels of the county.
Her own position was held by ethereal beauty and the serene grace of someone trying to not draw attention to themselves while being the center of attention. Unfortunately blessed, but through no effort of her own, her charms were easily lost. "Your value is lost once your face cracks."
Elizabeth, on the other hand, was a jewel for her ebullient charm and engaging wit. Through years of work with her father, she had won it, and it would age like a fine wine.
Please, do not be confused. Jane used to go to their father's bookroom. But with her already delicate self-confidence, her father's debates were too harsh. She would usually leave the book-room feeling more foolish. Jane liked to read, not for the improvement of her mind but for the escape of it.
Her father disregarded her more with each visit. Pursing his lip, making his annoyance known with her habitual response of "I found the book enjoyable," and turning to Lizzy for a more argumentative opinion. Lizzy seemed to enjoy taking her father's opposite opinion. Jane had tried it once, but under his watchful, seemingly disapproving stare, she fumbled her ideas, shattering them at her feet. Mr. Bennet laughed at her and told her to read the story again before coming with half-formed ideas. Jane cringed at the memory. "Stupid girl," her mind cried. "How can anyone be that brainless?"
"Jane!" Lizzy called, stepping from the house, "Jane!'
Jane panicked. Lizzy was the last person who held her in esteem, one who valued rationality. Jane didn't want to think about Lizzy catching her behaving in such an irrational manner. Jane desperately scrubbed her face with the damp cloth and faked several sneezes as Lizzy approached.
"God bless you!" Lizzy smirked, patting her on the back. Jane smiled at Lizzy.
"Oh, I wasn't finished; however, the last one became terribly shy and is hiding behind my eye," Jane scoffed with a smile. Lizzy was usually easy to trick, as long as she was misdirected early. Red eyes were the evidence, as was a handkerchief. A sneezing fit can just as easily explain these.
Lizzy laughed, "No wonder they are so red. Come, let us try some tricks to coax it out." Lizzy drew Jane with her towards the stables, chatting gaily about some story Charlotte had told her. Jane's vicious thoughts faded like a fog in the rising sun as she listened to her younger sister. Jane smiled, for Lizzy was a vivacious ray of sunshine in Jane's gloomy mind.