Ah! Lydia. She is a comfort to me, sister, and I do not know where I would be without her, for my other girls are a trial to me. You do not know what it is like to be a mother to five girls, and not one of them married, though Lydia is so spirited I swear she will marry before any of them. She is a little young to be going into company, to be sure, but she set up such a commotion when we left her behind the other day that we now take her with us wherever we go. She does not look out of place, for she is as tall as her sisters, and I believe she will soon overtop them all.
When you come to us, pray bring the latest fashion books. I will not have it said that my girls are behind the times.
There are rumours that the Sothertons are so heavily in debt they will have to leave Netherfield Park and then rent it out to strangers. I am sorry for them, I am sure, but if a family with five sons should happen to take the Park, it would be a very good thing for my girls.
Write soon and let us know if you will be joining us for Christmas.
Your fond sister,
Janet
Mrs Gardiner to Misses Elizabeth and Jane Bennet
Gracechurch Street, London,
December 6
My dear Lizzy and Jane,
Is it true, as your mama says, that the Sothertons might have to leave Netherfield Park? If so, I am sorry for it. Whatever your mama’s hopes as to the possible tenants might be, old friends are never to be treated lightly, and any new people in the neighbourhood must be viewed with clear-sightedness—even if a family with five sons, all eligible, should take the house. Fortunately, you both have a great deal of sense, and I expect you to use it.
But perhaps things will not come to such a pass. There is yet a chance that Mr Sotherton will see the error of his ways and retrench before such a step becomes inevitable. I hope so, for it will be a blow to you both to lose Susan, and Mary will miss Lucy, just as Kitty and Lydia will miss Eleanor.
Speaking of your younger sisters, I do not like to think of Lydia being out so soon. She is not yet fifteen, and young for her age. She has always been giddy and prone to rashness, even if she is so very tall; in fact, I think her height is a danger, for it leads people to assume she is older than she is.
Your mother has been unwise to indulge her in this particular. I know that I can say as much to you, Jane and Lizzy, for you are sensible enough to have seen it for yourselves.
I hope to use what influence I might have to curtail your mother’s indulgence of Lydia when I see you all in less than a fortnight. But in the meantime you must do what you can to lessen the evils of such folly, by reminding Lydia how she should behave and by dissuading your mama from including Lydia in the evening parties wherever possible.
It has been a long time since we have seen you. The children are already talking of nothing but coming to Longbourn and I am looking forward to seeing you all. You must tell me if there is anything you would like me to bring you from town. There will be some room in the carriage, although not very much, as the children are growing all the time. Your uncle complains that soon he will have to sit on the roof!
Give my love to your sisters,
Your fond Aunt Gardiner
Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mrs Gardiner
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
December 8
Dear Aunt Gardiner,
Nothing is certain with the Sothertons yet, but it seems likely that they will have to let Netherfield Park very soon as my mother says. Mr Morris—Mr Sotherton’s man of business—is going to speak to him seriously in the New Year and try to persuade him of the necessity to economise, but Susan has little hope of him succeeding.
One thing is certain, however: they cannot remain at the Park unless there is a change in Mr Sotherton. And if every attempt to change him fails, then Mrs Sotherton is intending to go to Bath after Easter and look for some suitable property for them to rent.
It is hoped that the sober air of Bath might do something to cure Mr Sotherton of his propensities, and if not, at least the family will have the income from Netherfield Park to sustain them, for they hope it will be possible to live very cheaply in Bath.
I hope it does not come to that. I will miss Susan dreadfully if she goes, and Mary, I know, will find Lucy hard to replace. Jane will bear the loss of her friends as she bears everything, with goodness and grace, and I believe that Lydia will not mourn the loss of Ellie for very long. She has made a new friend since coming out, Miss Watson, and the two of them laugh and gossip whenever they get together, which is very often, since Miss Watson lives not far from my aunt Philips’s house.
Papa has taken out a subscription to the library in Meryton and we are all now frequent visitors. Lydia goes there in the hope of meeting her friends, and with the desire of showing off her latest bonnet; Kitty is very much Lydia’s shadow; Jane and I like to peruse the new books; and Mary is enthralled. She has borrowed a selection of improving books for young women and she reads to us over the breakfast table, then she copies her favourite extracts into a little book.
Did you know, aunt, that ‘One of the chief beauties in a female character is that modest reserve, that retiring delicacy, which avoids the public eye’? Mary has taken this piece of advice so much to heart that yesterday she refused to take tea with my aunt Philips, since she would have to be seen by the public eye when she walked into Meryton, and would therefore lose one of her chief beauties.
Papa asked her whether the public eye were the left one or the right one, and he expressed his deep regret when she could not answer him. He recommended her to discover it, so that she could walk on either the right side or the left side of the road and therefore visit her aunt in safety.
‘Or is it, perhaps, a Cyclopean eye, set in the middle of the forehead?’ he asked. ‘If so, it is something singularly lacking in all of our acquaintance and you might therefore go about as you please.’
It was very wrong of him to tease her, but we are all becoming tired of her moralising.
You ask if there is anything I would like from London. Apart from news of the latest fashions and yourselves, then no, there is nothing. I am eager to see you again.
Your affectionate niece,
Lizzy
1799
JANUARY
Mr Darcy to Mr Philip Darcy
Fitzwater Park, Cumbria,
January 15
Philip, the weather here is dreadful; I hope it is better with you. I have never liked being cooped up indoors for any length of time and I confess myself bored, though I would not say so to my aunt. She has made me very welcome here and she has been kindness itself to Georgiana since we arrived. Georgiana will return to school by and by, but I want her to have some fun with people of her own age before returning to her studies.
We had a full house at Pemberley over Christmas but there were only a few young people and none at all under fifteen, which meant Georgiana was deprived of many of the games she would otherwise have enjoyed. I played chess and backgammon with her, but here she plays at charades and indulges in other childish pursuits; for although she is turning into a young lady there are still days when she wants nothing better than to dress Ullswater in a stole and bonnet and push the gaily attired animal along the corridors in an old perambulator. Ullswater takes it all in good part and wags her tail in enjoyment, and I confess I like nothing better than to see my sister happy.