“I am not pretty,” Elziabeth said instantly and with some conviction.
Now it was Mary’s turn to employ skeptically raised eyebrows.
“I do not mean to be.”
“Besides,” Mary said, “Ido not mean to marry him. I only wish to have enough of his attention to know him better.Yourmind jumps as rapidly as Mama’s from my wish to dress a little better to the loud ringing of wedding bells.”
A laugh gurgled out of Elizabeth. “I have never thought of myself as like Mrs. Bennet in any respect, but you have a fair point. If you think I can help you, I happily will.”
“Of course you can! No human could dress in such an ugly manner as you—everything out of place, completely eccentric, yet perfectly crafted to give exactly the impression you wish—without a great deal of natural taste.” Mary smiled. “And you are very pretty, and maybe if one of us married, you would not need to hide it.”
“I hope that I can be confident that you would not usemywellbeing as an argument in favor of a marriage with Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth said quickly.
But Elizabeth then stepped back, and she critically examined Mary, no longer denying that she did have a sense of what the girl might do to dress better.
“First the hair.” Elizabeth released the bun that Mary kept it in, and worked to make two ringlets fall forward over the face. “Much better. And a ribbon through to match your dress.”
“I do not have any of that color.”
“We must then buy additional ribbons for you, and a bit of lacing for the collar of your dress. Tomorrow when we go out—you would not wish, I imagine, to ask one of your sisters.”
The face that Mary made spoke volumes.
“I do not know that I have so much pocket money,” Mary said. “I have spent most on sheet music. Drawing pencils, a couple of books of sermons that Papa refused to purchase…”
“And which are utterly unavailable from a circulating library.” Elizabeth laughed. “I can lend you enough. This would not all be so expensive.”
“You have so much saved?”
“Mr. Bennet always gives me a great deal of pocket money; I just do not like to spend it—now let us see. That red coral bead necklace you have—the one Mrs. Bennet gave you and that you do not like to wear. Now is the time. It shall set off the color of your dress neatly.”
Such was done, and Mary already looked rather fetching.
The girl seemed to realize that looking at the mirror. She frowned. “That little makes a difference? I hardly like it though. I do not feel as though I am myself. I never wear my hair in such a way.”
“Why do you not?”
“I suppose…” Mary sighed. “I suppose I am vain.”
Elizabeth giggled.
“No, but it is so,” Mary said. “I do not compare myself to Jane. She is oldest, and everyone agrees that she is unusual in her looks. But that Kitty and Lydia are so much prettier. I cannot improve my looks so far that they surpass theirs.”
“And thus, you wish to make it clear to all that you do not make the attempt? You yourself have created quite the image of yourself as the studious girl, always writing and practicing, but perhaps that is not who you wish to be.”
“No, no…I do wish to be who I am. Only…it is so odd to look at myself with this hair.”
“You need not change anything at all, if you do not wish to.” Elizabeth smiled. “Icertainly will not tell you to compete for the attention of a Mr. Collins. You see, I am in fact nothing like Mrs. Bennet.”
Mary laughed.
She stared at herself in the mirror.
“What is your chief aim?Yourown aim,” Elizabeth asked. “That is the question you must ask before you decide what to do.”
“I do like how that necklace looks on me. Maybe not the hair, but the necklace. It does not matter if I am still not so pretty as Kitty. It is vanity to intentionally look poorly out of such a motive. Vanity is when we give too much concern to what others think of us.”
“If you do not like the hair,” Elizabeth said with a thoughtful frown, “let me try a different approach. It is the curls you dislike, I think?—they do soften your face, but they make you look very different from how you have always presented yourself.” So saying Elizabeth reworked Mary’s hair into a bun, and then tied a ribbon—unfortunately one that did not match the dress and the necklace properly, but one must work with the materials available. “Does this have more of your own particular character?”
