A/N 1, about my process, not the story:
I must begin by taking my readers to task for being too kind in their reviews. Many reviews and PMs have said that they wish I would post more often, but I took that as an "in a perfect world" kind of thing. Since almost all of my lovely readers have left very kind reviews, I thought it was just a minor inconvenience to them, and that it did not affect their enjoyment of the story. Reviewer Arkadylea was the first to politely inform me that when reviewers say they wish I would post more often, they don't mean it like they wish it would rain donuts, they mean that it's hard to remember the plot when the chapters are so far apart.
I had not realized this before, for two reasons:
1. I am an idiot.
2. Even though I've had very little time to write over the last several months, the story was never far from my thoughts, so I didn't have any trouble remembering it. It never occurred to me that normal people with normal lives would have trouble remembering the plot when the chapters are posted months apart (see item 1).
So, thank you Arkadylea for your very helpful feedback, and I will try to do better. I can't do anything about how little time I have available to write, and I can't do anything about how slowly I write, but what I can do is make my chapters shorter so I can post them more often. You may point at me and laugh, because this chapter is over ten thousand words again, but remember my author's note in the last chapter, when I said I had split the chapter in two because it was getting too long? Well, this chapter only covers one-fourth of what I intended to cover when I wrote that.
It's more natural for me to write in big chunks, so it will take more than one-fourth as much time for me to post a chapter one-fourth as long, but at least I will post more often.
Thanks again for your patience.
A/N 2, about the story: The more Jane Austen fan fiction you have read, the less plausible this chapter, and probably future chapters, will seem. There have been so many variations that depict the Bennets as barely solvent, even while Mr. Bennet is alive, that it may seem preposterous to you that he could save much money. I assert that this is no more implausible than canon, where he saves absolutely nothing, even though his income puts him in the top 1% and he lives like a monk, seldom emerging from his study except to eat and sleep. In other words, his lack of savings in canon is entirely voluntary.
What I ask of you is this: if you find this chapter so implausible that you are tempted to abandon the story, or if you simply hate math and fear it will permeate the rest of the story, hang with me until you read Chapter 19, where Lizzy will show her sisters that their current lifestyle requires no more than 1000 pounds per year. The chapter after that will be the big reveal to Mrs. Bennet (with very little math), and that will be the last of the numbers and budgets, and we will get back to the fun stuff. Thank you.
Chapter 16: Sixpence the Richer
Longbourn, Hertfordshire, October 7, 1811
Lizzy knocked softly on the door of her father's study, and at his "Enter!" she pushed the door open and said, "Papa, I need to speak with you."
Mr. Bennet looked up from his book and smiled. "I am sorry, Lizzy, but you are too late. I have already sent an express to Mr. Collins with the terms of your marriage settlement, and I have told the vicar to post the banns immediately," he said, his eyes twinkling.
"Papa, you did not," Lizzy chided him.
"No, I did not," her father admitted. "But I must say that I am warming to the idea of having a Shakespearean scholar in the family." He sighed theatrically. "But I suppose that if you are so fickle as to have changed your mind about him, I can bear the disappointment."
Lizzy's smile at his jest was no more than polite, and had vanished by the time she sat down across from him. Bennet could now see that something was wrong, but he was relieved when Lizzy asked him, "Papa, why does mama think we have no money saved for dowries?"
"Oh, is that all?" He waved his hand deprecatingly. "Come, Lizzy, you know how your mother is! She is not happy unless she is complaining about something. I am not sure what she said to you, but she knows very well that we are saving money."
Lizzy shook her head. "No, papa, she does not. She is pushing Jane to marry Mr. Bingley, and me to marry Mr. Collins, and Lydia to marry Mr. Darcy, and my other sisters to marry soldiers, because she is afraid that we will have little or no money when you die. Why have you not told her that she has no need to worry about such things?"
"I have told her, many times, but she will not believe me."
"What exactly did you tell her?"
"Well, I… I… let me think… I suppose I told her… that she has no need to worry about such things," he finished lamely.
Lizzy could easily picture him saying exactly that, and then disappearing into his study and closing the door behind him. She loved her father dearly, and to be fair, she had to admit that he had stopped using his sometimes acerbic wit on her mother the way he did when Lizzy was very young. That was an improvement, to be sure, but mere civility was not enough for a woman like Mrs. Bennet, who had become fearful of her future and wanted reassurance.
Lizzy did not want to criticize her father, so she said softly, "Papa, you are an intelligent and respected man - probably the most important man in this area, regardless of what Sir William thinks of himself, and people treat you with deference. You do not know what it is like to be a woman, and to have your concerns dismissed as if you were a child. It has happened to me many times, including quite recently, and often the man telling me to 'run along and leave this to the men' had the brains of a goose."
Her voice became more stern. "Mama does not take your vague assurances seriously, because she does not think you are taking her concerns seriously. I believe that you should sit down with her and talk - and I mean have a real discussion, one where you are not looking for any chance to bolt back into your study - rather than dismissing her concerns with one short sentence."
Mr. Bennet had long since learned to listen to his daughter when she was serious about something. He sighed and said, "I am sure you are right, Lizzy. I never thought… well, I suppose I can stop right there. But you know me! I abhor conflict. And if I told her how much we are putting aside, I believe it would only serve to increase the conflict in our house."
"How so, papa?"
Bennet replied, "She might have one of three reactions: First, she may say, 'That is well,' and be satisfied, and never mention it again. I place the probability of that at one in a thousand."
Reluctantly, Lizzy nodded.
"Second," her father continued, "she could think it is more than sufficient, and start importuning me about releasing some of our savings to be spent on gowns and lace. I place the chance of that at about 99 in 100. And third, she could think it is not enough, and importune me to save even more. I estimate that also at 99 in 100."
"That is 198.1 out of 100, papa," she laughed.
"Well, Lizzy, I have always said that there are three types of people in the world: those who are clever with numbers, and those who are not."
"I believe you are right, papa." Then sobering a bit, she said, "But papa, surely there is a happy medium between giving her an exact accounting, and telling her nothing. I assume that you do not want to tell her everything because she cannot keep a secret," she raised an eyebrow and he nodded, "but could you not at least tell her, say, that you have been putting several hundred pounds aside each year for many years? That would reassure her, and it would not be lying, and yet it would not give her enough detail to make us a target for fortune hunters."
"But Lizzy, she knows that already."
"No, papa, she does not."
"How can she not? Why, she herself has been contributing 300 pounds per year from her own pin money!" He huffed. "Does she think I am stealing it from her, wasting it on cards and loose women?"
Lizzy could not keep from giggling at the mental picture of her very proper father in a low pub with a doxy draped around his neck, but she could see that she was off to a bad start, so she did her best to placate him. "Of course not, papa. She accuses you of nothing. On the contrary, she said that she knew that you were doing your best for us." She was gratified to see her father's shoulders relax.
Encouraged by this, she continued, "As to how she can not know it, that is what I am trying to piece together. There seem to be enough misunderstandings in this house to fill a barn, and you have just added to the list of things I myself do not understand. What is this about my mother putting aside 300 pounds a year? I know very well that she spends almost all of her pin money, and it is less than 300 pounds to begin with."
Bennet sat up straighter. "Well, that is the point, you see. When we were first married, I gave her 300 pounds of pin money in addition to her jointure interest, but she agreed to let me put it aside for us instead, many years ago."
Lizzy was amazed. "Mama had five hundred a year for pin money?"
"She did, and she had no trouble spending it. Gowns, jewels, dinner parties -" He looked chagrined. "And I was no better. I bought every book I had ever wanted to read, often in the most expensive edition. I told myself that I could one day sell them for a handsome profit to fund your dowries, but that was mostly self-deception to ease my conscience and allow me to do what I wanted to do.
"Oh Lizzy, what a pair we made! We spent like sailors on shore leave, for we were neither of us accustomed to having money when we married. Your grandfather Gardiner was a good man, but he was very frugal. I believe that your mother's pin money was only ten pounds before she married me. And though my father was wealthy, he was not overly generous with either his money or his time with me, for I was a second son. He shipped me off to Eton, then to Oxford, and though he paid for my room, board, and tuition, I had only 20 pounds a year pocket money at Eton, and 30 at Oxford. My father died when I was in my second year at Oxford, and your uncle Robert, with whom I had never gotten along, was churlish about maintaining my allowance of 30 pounds, though he did in the end. I believe my mother must have shamed him into doing it. But the day after I graduated, I received a letter from him - not to congratulate me, but to inform me that I was henceforth on my own. I was fortunate that my classics professor saw promise in me and arranged for a fellowship to continue my studies, and later helped me secure a position on the faculty. Which paid scarcely 80 pounds to start, and never exceeded 120, even after nearly ten years. So when we suddenly had 500 pounds each to spend on luxuries, we were both like a child who found a guinea on the street next to the confectioner's."
Bennet sighed. "But after Lydia was born, and the physician in London told us that no more children would be forthcoming, and … other things happened, I knew that we could not go on as we had. By then I had most of the books you see now," he gestured toward the floor-to-ceiling shelves full of books that lined his study's walls, "and the lending library had just opened, which allowed me to satisfy my interest in newer books without needing to buy them, and I was beginning to get rather stout, which encouraged me to cut back on my wine. Also by then, your mother had redecorated every room in the house, so we stopped buying so much furniture and art. And fair play to her, she stopped throwing so many dinner parties, and buying a new gown for each of them as well."
He looked at his daughter in exasperation. "So tell me, Lizzy, how in the world is it possible that your mother cannot see that I no longer buy books and wine by the cartload, that we scarcely buy any new furniture and art, that we no longer host lavish dinner parties more weeks than not, and above all, that she has 300 pounds less per year for pin money? How can she not have seen any one of those things for the last 15 years?"
"I am sure that she sees them, papa."
"Then how does she explain them, if we are not putting money aside?"
"Very easily, papa. She believes that there is no money to put aside, because Longbourn's profits have fallen. She believes that the estate's profits are barely enough to meet our household expenses, and that is why you have cut your spending so much."
Her father gaped at her. "But why on earth would she believe that?"
"I am not certain of the details," Lizzy said carefully, "but apparently she happened to overhear part of a discussion between you and her father about the reparations you were to exact from the steward when we caught him embezzling. She misunderstood when she heard her father tell you that you could do better than 1000 pounds, and she thought he was talking about Longbourn's profits."
Her father's snort made it clear that he didn't think that Fanny's overhearing that discussion was accidental, any more than Lizzy did.
"But that was 15 years ago! Why has she not simply asked me about it in all that time?"
"That is the same question I asked her. She said she could not. And papa, she appeared to be frightened of something."
Lizzy watched her father closely for his reaction to this, but she needn't have, for it was not subtle. He stared at her for a moment, then sagged back into his chair and put his hand over his eyes.
"Good Lord," he said. "All these years." He shook his head slowly. "I thought she had gotten over it long ago."
"Gotten over what, papa?"
"Oh Lizzy, I am ashamed to tell you." He gathered himself, took a breath, and said, "Many years ago, the gods were bored, and decided to have some sport with me. I was sampling some French brandy that was much stronger than I realized, and I got quite drunk. There followed a series of unfortunate events, causing the destruction of some very expensive items that I had barely taken out of their crates, which made me furious, and your mother chose that precise instant to burst into my study without a by-your-leave, and berate me over not saving for our daughters' dowries. I am afraid that between the alcohol and my rage, I abused her abominably."
Lizzy's eyes went wide, and Bennet quickly held up his hands. "No, no, Lizzy, it was strictly verbal, but I do not suppose anyone had ever shouted at your mother like that before. Her parents doted on her, and all the men treated her like a queen, for she was a great beauty. Imagine a young woman with the face of Jane, the liveliness of Lydia, and HUGE … tracts of land.* So I very much doubt that she had ever been disparaged to her face before. I apologized as soon as I came to my senses, of course, and neither of us ever spoke of it again, but it evidently wounded her even more deeply than I realized."
*I couldn't resist. If you haven't seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail, never mind.
Her father sighed. "And the incident has had lasting effects on me, as well. It is one reason I avoid specifics, for I never wish to argue about money with her again. Or about anything else, for that matter." He looked at Lizzy. "Make no mistake, I enjoy intelligent debate, especially with you, but that is chalk and cheese to arguing with your mother."
Lizzy, still trying to gather every thread, said, "You said that was one reason. What are the others?"
Bennet grinned; his self-reproach had been of short duration. "There is only one other, but it is the best reason of all: I have no idea how much money we have saved," he said.
Lizzy looked at him as if he were losing his wits, and then felt a pang of fear that he really might be losing his wits. "Papa, please explain that to me. Do you not have the ledger?" She pointed toward the bookshelf containing the secret panel where Bennet kept a second strongbox. He had a large strongbox on the floor by his desk where he kept most of his important papers, but only he and Lizzy knew of the second one, where he kept more personal items. His hope was that anyone who sought to steal from him would not look for a second strongbox after they saw the first.
Lizzy kept three sets of books for him. The first contained the estate accounts. She used a professional double-entry system that Bennet himself did not really understand, but would be perfectly clear to tax collectors, or the accountant that Mr. Collins might hire when he assumed control of Longbourn. It was kept in the deskside strongbox.
The second was the household accounts ledger that her mother had seen. It was kept in Mr. Bennet's desk where it would be more easily accessible, and was simplified to make it easy for her father to understand, but the entries were in Greek for privacy.
The third was the record of their savings and investments. Also in Greek and also simplified, It was kept in the "secret" strongbox behind a hidden panel in a bookshelf, which contained Bennet's most personal and valuable papers - including a copy of his will, and an inventory of valuables that belonged to the Bennets, rather than Longbourn Estate. Mr. Collins would inherit the house and estate, but not the rare books and jewels.
Bennet had given Lizzy complete authority to make the investment decisions for Longbourn over ten years earlier, for by her eighth year, she was not only more intelligent, but more knowledgeable than anyone else he knew, and certainly had more business sense than he did. Every Christmas, her aunt and uncle Gardiner would visit Longbourn, and Gardiner would return to London with a bank draft and the instructions for its disposition. He always checked with Bennet before leaving, and Bennet always gave his approval after scarcely glancing at the instructions.
"The ledger is there, Lizzy, never fear. But I do not look at it, and I only pretend to listen when you update it. I cannot avoid hearing the odd figure here or there, but I mentally count by fives as fast as I can, and try to drown it out in the noise. It works quite well. The result is that I have only a vague idea of the lower bound of what is available to invest each year."
Lizzy could not believe her ears. Now she was truly concerned about her father's wits, so she made herself slow down and gather all the facts regarding this new development, which had replaced her mother's worries as the most important issue facing her.
"Papa," she said as calmly as she could, "I beg you to explain to me how that is possible. I concede that you tell me that you do not care to know about how we are investing our money, although I have never truly understood why. And I suppose that it is possible that you never look at the ledger, though again, I do not understand why."
She looked at her father closely to make sure that she had his full attention. "But papa, we spend hours each December going over our projected expenses for the new year, so that you can determine the amount of the bank draft to give to uncle Gardiner. You have always seem fully engaged to me. And after we have discussed all the issues and proposals, we agree on how much to keep back for the next year's household expenses, and how much to invest. Is that not correct? And if it is, how can you say that you do not know how much we invest?"
Her father grinned at her. "Well Lizzy, I congratulate myself that I have managed to fool you for so long. I doubt that many could do it, although I have the advantage of being your old papa, whom you believe to be honest in his dealings, so you lower your guard. But think carefully. When have I ever given you an exact figure to invest?"
Lizzy sat back and closed her eyes. She could easily remember everything in general she had seen and heard for most of her life, but when she needed exact details, she had to concentrate, and that is what she did now.
She replayed last December's budget discussion in her head. Her eyes widened. She replayed the year before that, and the year before that.
"You are right, papa," she said in amazement. "You do not give me a number. We go over the budget for the new year, and when we decide on a figure for household expenses, you tell me to keep that back, and 'invest the rest.'"
Bennet smiled and nodded. "Precisely, my dear. As I said, I try very hard to ensure that I have only a vague idea of the estate profits. But you are correct that I am fully engaged in our discussion about the new year's expenses, for I must be able to appear to be in charge of Longbourn when dealing with people outside of the family. So I do know that number, and I do frequently review your red journal.
"But I always interrupt or divert you if it seems that you are about to mention our total profits, for I do not want to know that number. All I need know is that it is greater than our expenses, and it is always obvious that it will be, fairly early in our deliberation.
"Your mind is so quick that when we decide upon the amount to hold back for the new year's expenses, I can say 'invest the rest,' and you instantly subtract our expenses from our profits and see the result in your head as clearly as if I had said a number, rather than 'the rest.' But even if I could do arithmetic as quickly as you, I would still not know how much 'the rest' is, because I would not know the number that you subtracted the expenses from."
"But papa, why would you not want to know how much Longbourn made in a given year?"
"Did I not just tell you that your mother and I make a fine pair? I believe that if I knew how much we made each year, or worse, what our total savings were, the chances of me wanting to spend some of it now would also be around 198 in 100."
Lizzy looked at her father as if he had told her he had just returned from dinner with the king. "I am all astonishment, papa. I know that you have always said that my uncle and I know much more about business than you, so there is no need to discuss our plans with you, but I thought that it must be because you find business statements boring. I can scarcely believe that you never once looked to see how we were doing!"
"Not once. I resolved to never interfere with your decisions. I was happy to give a non-committal opinion whenever you asked me about something, but I always endorsed your final decision, and never looked at the results. I assumed that if you ever did somehow make a mistake, you would learn from it, and that in any case, you would do better than I ever could in the long run, especially with your uncle Gardiner to consult. I was afraid that if I watched what you were doing, I might be tempted to offer my advice, and that if I did, you would feel duty-bound to take it. And that would be courting disaster."
He grinned. "Shall I tell you about my remarkable achievements in the world of finance, Lizzy?"
"I would be very interested to hear it, papa." Lizzy was not merely being polite; she wanted every scrap of information she could get about her parents' earlier lives so that she could make sense of all the confusion.
Mr. Bennet sat back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. Lizzy knew that this was the signal that he was about to launch into a lengthy monologue, an occurrence that was becoming more frequent as he got older. Although she dearly wanted to find her bed, this was more important.
Her father began, "You may find this surprising, but I was not completely irresponsible when I first inherited Longbourn. I did what my father had taught me that every man should do, and saved ten percent of my income each year." He stopped abruptly and looked at his daughter. "Heh, I just realized that I have in front of me the means of answering a question I have wondered about from time to time over the years. Lizzy, I inherited Longbourn in 1788. Suppose I had put 200 pounds in the four percents every year from then until now. What would my savings be?"
"Assuming that you started with nothing, and the four percents actually paid four percent, you would have 7,324 pounds by now, papa," Lizzy said, as quickly as if he had asked her what two plus two made.
"Hmm," mused her father, "I would have hoped it was more." Then he asked, "Wait, what do you mean, 'the four percents paid four percent'?"
"For several years now, the government has been selling the bonds at a discount, so the effective yield is closer to 5 percent," said Lizzy. "I believe it is because they need more money to prosecute the war."
Bennet huffed. "Well, as long as it is for a good cause. But back to my tale. As you just showed, that is better than a poke in the eye, but hardly the wealth of Croesus. So I thought I might be able to do better than the four percents.
"When you have become an expert in some field after 20 or so years of study, and have even been paid to lecture on the subject, you begin to believe that you are an expert in everything, or at the very least, that you can become an expert in anything with a few hours of reading."
He stopped himself again and looked at Lizzy. "Pardon me, I should have said 'When one' rather than 'When you', for it happens to be true in your case. But for almost everyone else, including me, it is a dangerous trap."
Lizzy shook her head in dismissal, but her father just snorted, and then resumed, "Have you heard of the Rochdale Canal?"
"Of course, papa, Manchester to Sowerby Bridge."
Asking whether Lizzy knew something had been pointless for some years now, Bennet reflected, but he continued, "I became interested in canals at Oxford, for they were working on the Oxford canal while I was there. It had not yet reached Oxford, but it was gaining on it. My friend Haskell and I used to hire a curricle and drive out to watch them, just in case they accidentally dug up a Roman villa, or a giant's bones. Of course, I had no money then, so all I could do was watch. But a few years after I inherited Longbourn, an agent for the promoters of the Rochdale canal project, a very charming man by the name of Draper, visited me. Apparently, he was making the rounds of all the medium-to-large estates near London, looking for investors in the project. It was shortly after Mary was born, and after three daughters, even I could see that I needed to be more serious about putting money aside, and this investment offered a much higher return than the four percents, so I was interested."
Lizzy thought she knew what was coming. "Oh papa, surely you did not give him money without checking his credentials."
Her father snorted again. "I am touched by your faith in me. But no, in this case I was wise enough to consult with your grandfather Gardiner. We even took a trip together to London, and visited the offices of the promoters. There we met Mr. Draper again, and we were lucky enough to be there when one of the MPs was discussing strategy with the promoters just before the parliamentary debate on the bill to authorize construction. To our surprise, the MP invited us to attend as his guests, and so we were watching from the strangers' gallery when the bill was debated, and we saw with our own eyes the MP giving his speech, and saw the vote passed, and the company given its charter. We all returned to the company office to celebrate, and I invested 500 pounds before leaving London."
Lizzy could not think what could have gone wrong, with such overwhelming evidence of the agent's bona fides. She searched her memory to see whether there were reports of the company failing, but there were none. But something must have happened.
"Did you lose your money, papa?" she asked.
"Not that money, no," said her father. "But about a year later, Mr. Draper visited Longbourn again to inform me that a second issue of shares had been authorized, and that first-time investors would receive a generous return, but that charter investors like myself would receive even more. Lydia had just been born, and I had given up hope of having a son, so I invested another thousand pounds, which was almost everything I had in the four percents."
He sighed. "I suppose you can guess the rest. I knew Mr. Draper personally. I knew he worked for the company, and I knew the company was legitimate. There was no need to go through the vetting process again. Several months later, when I happened to be in London, I stopped by the company office. They were happy to verify that my initial investment was as good as gold. But they were sorry to inform me that Mr. Draper had been dismissed some time ago. The additional shares I had received from him were counterfeit. They had me give them details of the fraudulent sale so that they could contact me in case Mr. Draper was apprehended and might have enough money to give partial restitution to his victims, but they later informed me that he had been traced as far as Canada, and then vanished."
"That was back in 1796," Mr. Bennet said. "It was the same year I had the argument with your mother over my spending, and the same year you discovered that our steward was embezzling. I am not the most perceptive man in the world, but these three irrefutable proofs of my incompetence regarding money penetrated even my thick skull. I resolved to cut expenses and to put more money aside, and to be satisfied with the four percents until you were old enough to manage my money, for it was obvious even then your mental development was proceeding at an astonishing rate, and that I would not have long to wait. It was especially evident when your uncle Gardiner visited us for Christmas that year, and I showed him what you could do with numbers. I heard you talking with him about his position with Mathers Imports, and could see that he was astonished at how quickly you grasped business principles, and just as importantly, how much he himself knew about business. So I asked him if there were a safe way to do better, and he said that he knew of a way to get 5 percent with Navy bonds that incurred no more risk than the 4 percents. I arranged for him to invest my money for me, and was satisfied with that until the summer of 1800.
"Your uncle was recently married, and paid us a visit both to let your new aunt Madeline enjoy the hottest part of the summer in Hertfordshire rather than London, and to discuss a business proposal with me. By then you were eight, and you were far and away the most intelligent and knowledgeable person I had ever known, which is a high bar for someone who had been at Oxford for over ten years. But even I did not realize how mature your mind was until I let you sit in with your uncle and me.
"I tell you, I have never felt so stupid in my life. I remember him spreading his proposals and projections all over my desk, and talking about this and that, and I was hopelessly lost after the first minute. But I saw you watching, and nodding, and understanding everything, and asking intelligent questions about cash flow and depreciation and debt consolidation and I know not what else, and Gardiner responding enthusiastically, until you two were in your own world, and I could not understand a word in three.
"Lizzy, I think you know you have always been my favorite, but that was the day I realized how truly blessed I was. For I had two of the most extraordinary people I have ever met, right here in my study, in my very family. People whom I could trust unreservedly to be both absolutely honest and amazingly intelligent. I decided then and there to cede full authority to you, with the cooperation and guidance of your uncle, both for our investments and for the management of Longbourn, and it was the best decision I have ever made."
He paused, then said, "As an aside, you will probably not be astonished when I tell you that, in my vanity, I had always assumed that you got your genius from me, rather than your mother. But listening to you and your uncle that day, both of you discussing complex subjects and doing mental calculations far more quickly than I could ever hope to follow, I realized that he was a genius himself, at least regarding business, and that you may derive as much or more of your ability from your mother's side of the family than from mine. I spoke to your uncle about this some years later, and he told me that he also would never forget that day, and that while he may or may not have matched you in some areas when you were eight years old, that you had long since surpassed him."
Bennet stood up and began to pace around his study to stretch his legs, and Lizzy realized her own legs were getting numb, so she stood and stretched as well. Her father seemed to be thinking as he paced, and when he sat back down, he said, "But now I realize that I have put this discussion off for too long. You and Jane should have had several seasons by now. Even Mary is due this year. It is well past time I acted like the head of the family, instead of pushing all of the decisions off to you. And I will have to know how much money we have available before we can talk about dowries."
Lizzy nodded. "Thank you, papa. I truly believe that if we could give my mother some specifics tomorrow, it would ease her mind considerably."
"Yes, it is just - I have never seen the point in announcing dowries. It is rather like going to buy a horse with a sign around your neck saying how much you are willing to pay.
"Oh, I suppose that if you are a duke or an earl, and you have a beastly daughter for whom you care nothing and are only interested in gaining political connections, it might be practical to advertise a high dowry. But for a simple squire like myself, I cannot think what good can come of it. If I announce a dowry too high, it will attract every fortune hunter within a hundred miles. If I announce a dowry too low, it might keep a second son who needs to marry well from even considering her. No, a dowry should be set only after an understanding is reached, and should be negotiated, not specified beforehand.
"Look at this Bingley fellow. He seems smitten with our Jane, and he reportedly has no need of a dowry from her, so it is entirely possible that he would accept her with a rather small dowry, and allow us to save the rest for when Lydia marries a poor vicar."
Lizzy chuckled dutifully, then said, "I agree with you in principle, papa, but remember that in this case, we are not announcing the dowries to the world, we will be speaking only to mama. Therefore we do not need to worry about the proper amount to attract a suitor, but rather to give mama some peace of mind. I believe that once she is more confident of the future, she will become less frantic about seeking husbands for us, and so may become more open to your idea of a negotiated dowry. She just needs to know that the money is there. So, papa, would you like me to get the journal?"
"There is no need, Lizzy, I am sure you have the numbers in your head, and we will be working with round numbers in any case."
"Very well, papa. But first, I want to say that I had very little to do with making our savings grow. It was mostly my uncle Gardiner."
"Lizzy, I just told you that I tried very hard not to hear our total estate profits, but I heard enough to know that they have been growing thanks to the improvements you have made. Gardiner may have picked the investments, but it was you who ensured that we had the money to invest."
He opened a drawer and took out a piece of writing paper, dipped a pen in the inkwell, and said, "Very well, Lizzy, how much do we have invested with your uncle?"
He braced himself. Although he had tried not to think about it, he was only human, and sometimes on a walk, or when falling asleep, he wondered how much Lizzy had saved. He knew that he had cut household expenses to around 1000 pounds some 15 years ago, and that Longbourn was earning nearly 2500 pounds at that time, once the dishonest steward was dismissed. But he also knew that Lizzy had implemented many changes in the estate that incurred considerable startup costs, and took some years to pay them back. He thought a conservative estimate would assume net profits of around a thousand pounds per year. Over 15 years, that should amount to something like twenty thousand pounds with interest.
But if it turned out to be less, he must not show disappointment. He knew that his daughter had given her life to doing what should have been his job, running Longbourn. How cruel of the gods to make her a woman, instead of a man! If she were male, she would be at Oxford right now, dazzling her professors. Or no, she would likely have graduated from Oxford at the age of 10 or so, and by now would be the youngest member of the Royal Society in history, and possibly even knighted for her discoveries and achievements.
Instead, she was wasting her gift running an unimportant estate in an unimportant part of England, and not able to take credit even for that. Her own mother had no idea how much she did. He would die before he gave her any reason to think he was disappointed in her.
Lizzy asked, "You said you wanted only round numbers?"
Her father nodded, and she continued, "Then if you include the crop sales we just made, and the fourth quarter rents we have yet to collect, both of which we will invest with my uncle, we will have a bit over 19,000 pounds with him at the end of this year."
Bennet made a show of writing "19,000" with a flourish. It was a little less than he had hoped for. He smiled broadly, hoping she would not see it was forced. "Well, Lizzy, that is wonderful! It certainly beats the seven thousand or whatever it was you said I would have had following my original scheme."
"Yes, papa." Then, to his surprise, she continued, "We also have a bit under 25,000 pounds in the five percents - I call them that because as I said, the four percents are now selling at a discount."
Her father was not sure he had heard correctly. "Did you say twenty-five thousand?"
"Yes, papa, my uncle's business is doing very well, but as Lady Rutherford once told me, anything can happen in time of war, so it is not wise to keep all your eggs in one basket. Also, there is a limit to how much cash my uncle can invest and still exceed the five percent government rate in returns. So when our investment with him exceeds twenty thousand, I take ten thousand out and put it in the five percents."
Bennet shook his head, but this time his smile was not forced as he wrote "25,000" under the earlier figure. This was why he wanted round numbers; he could add two of them easily enough. "So 44,000 pounds total?" He could scarcely believe it.
"No, papa. From my reading, I believe that we will be at war with America within a year," she pointed at the stack of newspapers from all over the world, on a table in the corner.
"Fighting wars with two powerful foes might be too much even for our government," she continued. "If we are invaded, or if the government cannot pay its debts for some other reason, our money in the five percents may be lost. It is a small risk, but it is real. So I took the precaution of buying ten thousand pounds worth of guineas. Gold is accepted everywhere, so even if we have to flee the country, we will have enough to live on. My uncle will bring the guineas with him when he comes this Christmas, and we will have to decide where to hide them."
Her father shakily wrote "10,000" under the other two figures. 54,000 pounds!
"Lizzy," he said slowly, "I was hoping that we had saved around 20,000 pounds. I am not nearly so clever as you with numbers, but I do not see how we could have doubled that, let alone nearly tripled it."
Lizzy smiled, gratified to see her father's astonishment. She had often wondered why he had never commented on how well their savings were doing, but she had not asked him, for it would seem like she was fishing for compliments.
"It is the power of compound interest, papa. You taught me that!"
Mr. Bennet looked at her blankly. He did not recall teaching her anything about mathematics, for although he was no dunce, he did not consider himself more than competent in arithmetic, and had forgotten much of the algebra and geometry he had learned. And he was even worse in practice than in theory, for he was extremely prone to errors caused by carelessness, rather than lack of understanding. It had been his ineptitude at adding long columns of numbers, even though he could add numbers accurately two at a time, that made it so easy for his ex-steward to cheat him.
Seeing his confusion, Lizzy reminded him, "The story of the shah and the inventor of chess, papa."
Now Bennet remembered. He hadn't considered that a lesson of any kind. It was just an amusing tale he told her when he was teaching her how to play chess. Pure fiction, probably invented by some tutor at Eton.
UI
The story was that when chess was first presented to the shah of ancient Persia, or perhaps it was the emperor of India, the ruler was so delighted with the game that he summoned the man who invented it, and told him to name his reward.
The man said that he would be satisfied if a single grain of wheat were placed on the first square of the chessboard, two grains on the second square, four grains on the third, and so on, doubling the number of grains each time until all 64 squares had been served. The shah ordered a bushel of wheat brought in, and feeling generous, offered the man the entire bushel rather than the few grains he had requested, but the man said he preferred that it be counted out. The shah was amused at first, but to his surprise, it had taken over a thousand grains to account for the first ten squares, and two thousand for the first eleven. The shah then summoned the court mathematician, who calculated that he would need over a thousand bushels to complete the 30th square, and over a trillion tons of wheat to serve all 64 squares.* The shah, no longer amused, made the man a new offer, namely a bushel of wheat and his life. The inventor accepted with alacrity.
UI
Lizzy said, "It is easy if you take it one step at a time, papa. First of all, you began your investment with my uncle at the end of 1796 with about seven thousand pounds - my mother's jointure was five thousand pounds, the reparations from the steward were another thousand, and the crop sales and remaining year's rents were another thousand."
Bennet thought he was doing well to have gone a full minute without getting lost, and he said, "Yes, I see that."
"My uncle was able to get 5% in the Navy bonds for us, and we added 1500 pounds each year, for you had cut our expenses to 1000 per year, and Longbourn made 2500 once the steward was dismissed. Three years of that brought our savings to nearly 13,000 pounds by the beginning of 1800."
"I am happy to say that I am still understanding you," said Bennet.
"1800 is when things got interesting," said Lizzy. "Did you really not understand anything my uncle and I were talking about when he visited that summer?"
"If I did, I have forgotten it," said her father. "But I do not think I did, for I have a very clear memory of feeling monumentally stupid, as I said. I take that to mean that I understood little or none of it."
"Well, I believe my uncle had tailored his proposal to London investment bankers, rather than country squires, so that is understandable," said Lizzy, "but basically the senior partner of his firm, Mr. Mathers, decided that he would retire at the end of 1800. He was a widower with no children, and he liked and respected my uncle, so Mr. Mathers offered to sell his share of the company to my uncle at a very good price. The company was worth nearly 25,000 pounds, and Mr. Mathers owned the larger share, but he offered it to my uncle for 10,000 pounds if he could come up with the money before the London season began in November. If not, then he would sell it, at a higher price, to some rich investor who came to London for the season.
"My uncle was desperate to accept the offer, but he had very little money, for he had used all his savings some time earlier to buy his minority share. My aunt Madeline had brought four thousand pounds to the marriage, but that left him 6000 pounds short, and truly even more, for he needed around 2000 pounds of working capital to run the business and implement his plans, even after he bought it. In the import-export business, there is often a considerable time between sending off a cargo and receiving the profits from it, you see.
"He made the rounds of the banks, but he was quite young for a business owner, and he had no collateral other than his share in the company, which would be worth nothing if the company failed, and so the banks refused to loan him even more money to put into the same company. Do you see, papa?"
Mr. Bennet nodded. He feared he was losing the thread, but he thought that if he didn't say anything, it might not be so obvious.
Lizzy smiled and continued, "He briefly looked into less respectable lenders, but they wanted such a high rate for such a short term that he feared he could not meet their deadlines, and with such men you do not risk mere bankruptcy; you risk your life if you fail to pay."
That, Bennet understood, so he nodded again without prompting.
"He had almost given up when he decided to see whether we might back him. By then we had a bit over 13,000 pounds with him. 5,000 of that was my mother's jointure, which could not be risked in such a scheme, but that left 8,000 that could. If we put that into his company, he could use 2,000 from my aunt's dowry to complete the transaction with Mr. Mathers, and still have 2,000 left for working capital. His offer to us was that if we agreed, he would pay us ten percent on current and future investments with him, so long as we kept our principal under 25,000 pounds, which as I already told you, I would have done in any case. So that is the bargain we struck."
Bennet simply nodded again. As long as Lizzy was happy with the deal, he was happy, he thought.
"Well then papa, the rest is simple. We continued to invest Longbourn's profits with him, and he has paid us ten percent on them. Our profits have never been less than 2200 pounds, even with the startup costs of our improvements, and have steadily increased since 1804, although I believe they have now peaked and will be level henceforth, unless we buy more land. Given the entail, I do not think that advisable before we see what will happen with Mr. Collins."
She playfully glared back when her father smirked at this, then asked "Would you like me to do it year by year for you?"
Bennet shook his head. "No, Lizzy, that will suffice, I thank you." He was silent for a long moment, then looked down at the paper on his desk and said, "Well Lizzy, 54,000 pounds. I believe that should satisfy even your mother. Ten thousand for each of her daughters, with plenty left over."
"Oh papa, I am torn! I know you are right that mama will be unable to keep from boasting about our wealth, but she has been suffering needlessly for 15 years because of a stupid misunderstanding, thinking we are barely solvent! I cannot let her go on thinking that, especially now…" her face reddened as she did not want to mention her mother's physical reason for being so nervous to her father.
Bennet noticed, but assumed she was thinking of Collins again, so he merely said, "Yes, of course, I was just thinking out loud, but not seriously. Do you have a suggestion?"
"Yes, I believe I do. My mother is used to thinking of savings being in the four percents, and we have almost exactly 25,000 pounds there. We would be telling her the absolute truth if we simply said that we have enough in the four percents to give each of her daughters a 5,000-pound dowry. That is eminently respectable, without being so high as to attract fortune hunters for 100 miles around."
"Indeed," said Bennet, "I would estimate that a fortune hunter would not travel so far as 50 miles for a mere five thousand. But do you believe it would be enough to satisfy your mother?"
"I might not say 'satisfy,' but it would certainly relieve her anxiety." She frowned. "Or one of them. The other is her fate if Collins does not marry one of her daughters before you die. I do not believe she has a firm understanding of how much she needs to live comfortably."
"She should be able to live quite comfortably on her jointure alone," said Bennet.
"I agree, papa, but…" she thought for a moment. "I think I have it!"
Mr. Bennet delighted in her enthusiasm as she told him her plans for the following day. But he was caught up short when she concluded, "… and we can tell her that our savings are increasing by 5,000 pounds every year, so that if she is willing to wait a year or two, Lydia will be in a much better position when she comes out."
Bennet held up a hand. "Wait a moment, Lizzy, I am afraid I missed part of that. Did you say that Longbourn is earning 5,000 pounds a year? That we are as rich as Bingley?"
"No, papa, I do not think we are quite as rich as Mr. Bingley. Longbourn will earn 3384 pounds this year, barring some disaster before January, leaving over two thousand to add to our savings after expenses. The rest of the increase is interest and dividends and... so forth. I suppose Mr. Bingley has his money in the four or five percents, so he must have at least 100,000 pounds if the rumors of his five thousand a year are true." She frowned. "And I do not know whether his sister's dowry, which rumor says is 20,000, is separate, or is included in his 100,000."
"I see. And what is 'so forth'?"
Lizzy made a wry face, and said, "Oh, my uncle insists on paying me for things. I do not object to him paying me royalties on my perfumes; that is perfectly reasonable. But he also insists on paying me when I audit his books, and sometimes bonuses."
"Bonuses?"
"When a suggestion I give him about trade turns out to be profitable." Bennet's eyes strayed to the stack of foreign newspapers, in various languages, that Gardiner sent to Lizzy each week. She read them from front to back, and her amazing memory and quick mind were often able to connect facts from disparate regions of the world that spelled opportunity for a man in the import-export business.
Lizzy huffed, "I have told him many times that I am happy to do those things for him without payment, but he insists on paying me, saying 'the laborer is worthy of his reward.'"
"And how much does that come to?"
"Not so much."
"Perhaps a few hundred pounds per year?"
"Perhaps."
"And you put all these earnings into the family investments?"
"Not all. But yes, most of it. I keep some out for extra pin money to bribe… er…. reward Kitty and Lydia for good behavior."
"Hmmm," said Bennet. Then he smiled and said, "You are a treasure, Lizzy. Even if we are only half as rich as Mr. Bingley."
"Oh, I think we are far more than half as rich, papa," she said, smiling.
"Did I miss something? 54,000 pounds to 100,000 pounds is just barely over half, is it not?"
Lizzy blinked at him, and then smacked her forehead and said, "Oh! I am sorry, papa, I forgot to tell you that in the past ten years, my uncle Gardiner has expanded his business fourfold. It is now worth nearly 100,000 pounds."
Her father smiled and said, "I am most happy for him, but what does that have to do with us or Bingley?"
Now it was Lizzy who was confused. "Of course it has nothing to do with Mr. Bingley, papa, but did you not hear me say that we put 8000 pounds into my uncle's company?"
"Yes, and you said that he paid us ten percent on it, along with the other money we gave him to invest from then on, did you not?"
"No, papa, the 8000 was not an investment. It was a purchase."
"A purchase? A purchase of what?"
"Of the company, papa! We are one-third owners! Not on paper, of course, for you are a gentleman, and cannot be directly connected to trade. Which is why we could never have even thought of doing this with anyone but my uncle, who is not only family, but is honest as the day is long. On paper, he is the sole owner. But in truth, you are his partner - his silent partner - and you own one-third of his business. Which as I said, is worth around 100,000 pounds now. That makes your third worth 33,000 pounds. So our total assets, not including things like books and art and jewels, are 87,000 pounds. If we do include our books and art and jewels, it comes to very nearly 100,000 pounds."
She mused, "I suppose that if Caroline Bingley's dowry is indeed included in his wealth, we might be richer than Mr. Bingley after all."
Mr. Bennet felt light-headed. He swallowed, and said, "Lizzy, have I told you that you are a treasure?"
Lizzy laughed and said, "Yes papa, just a minute ago. And may I say, you are my favorite papa in the whole wide world." She yawned, unable to suppress it. "But papa, I am dreadfully tired, and I think we have everything decided for tomorrow. Would you mind if I said goodnight now?"
"Not at all, Lizzy, you have had a full day." He stood up and walked around his desk, and this time it was he who kissed her on the forehead. "Sleep well, my dear, and thank you again for all you have done for us."
Lizzy smiled fondly at him as she took her leave.
Bennet sat back down at his desk, looking at the paper with the three figures on it. 19,000; 25,000; 10,000. He dipped his pen and added a fourth figure: 33,000. He stared at it a moment, and something wonderful happened inside him.
He felt proud of himself. He knew he didn't deserve to. He knew that he was the same man he was an hour ago, and he hadn't done anything in that hour other than listen to his daughter prove once again that he was the luckiest man on earth. Everything that had made all this possible had been due to Lizzy. Every suggestion that "they" were going to implement tomorrow had come from Lizzy.
He was the same man, yet he felt quite different.
Because for the first time in his life, he knew beyond question that his wife and daughters were well provided for, no matter what happened. No matter whether he died; no matter whether Collins evicted them from Longbourn; no matter whether his daughters never married. Great God, no matter even if the government fell and they had to flee the country!
He had not realized that he had long borne a feeling of concern for the future of his wife and daughters, just below the threshold of consciousness, until that weight had suddenly left him.
And he was heartily thankful that thanks to Lizzy, he had achieved this state before the ludicrous Mr. Collins asked him for permission to marry one of his daughters.
A/N for math geeks only:
*It is a sad commentary on our school system that many people today are not familiar with the price of grain in ancient Persia, so here is a more contemporary analogy.
If the inventor had asked for US pennies, rather than grains of wheat, it would have taken 184 million billion (or 184 quadrillion, to use the more formal terminology) US dollars to fill the chessboard, rounded to the nearest million billion. There is not enough copper in the world to make that many pennies. In fact, if you had that much money, you could buy all the copper in the world, and then buy all the gold in the world, and when you realized that it would not all fit into your garage, you could buy all of the real estate in the world to hold it. And after all that, you would still have over 184 million billion dollars left. Your purchases would not even be a rounding error.
Or, if you're like me and never think about crass things like money, consider an ordinary piece of paper. A standard thickness for the paper used in your desktop printer is one tenth of a millimeter, so it would take ten thousand sheets to make a stack one meter high. If the inventor had asked for sheets of paper instead of wheat grains, and for convenience they were all put in the same stack rather than 64 separate stacks, the stack would be over a kilometer high after the 24th square, higher than Mt. Everest after the 27th square, higher than the moon after the 42nd square, higher than the sun after the 51st square, and past the orbit of Pluto after the 57th square.
Yes, I am a proud math geek. Don't get me started on the number of permutations in a deck of cards.
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