As Mary had suggested, Mrs. Bennet welcomed their guest into the home with nary a hesitation, pressing him to accept tea and biscuits. It was interesting to see that Jane was present, welcoming the gentleman with her mother, but that Kitty and Lydia were also in attendance, and far quieter than she expected. The girls were not in the best humor, their reproachful looks at the mother speaking volumes as to their feelings. Mr. Darcy was gentleman enough to greet them politely and make no mention of their present spirits. While he did not raise the subject, Mrs. Bennet had no qualms at all about speaking of it.
“Mr. Darcy,” said she, “I would appreciate it if you passed a message to your aunt.”
“Of course, Mrs. Bennet,” said the gentleman. “What would you like me to tell her?”
“Please relay my thanks for her timely instruction.” Mrs. Bennet paused and considered what she would like to say, a hint of an abashed blush staining her cheeks. “Perhaps you have never heard, but I was not born a gentlewoman, and I sometimes struggle to understand how I should behave. Lady Catherine’s timely intervention and instruction about engaging a companionfor my girls was most welcome.”
Lydia huffed at Mrs. Bennet’s statement, but Mr. Darcy allowed a smile. “I shall inform Lady Catherine. She will be pleased, as my aunt dearly loves to be of use.”
“She has been,” said Mrs. Bennet fervently. “I hope she will consent to dispense a little more of her wisdom in the coming days, for I have no notion of how to go about engaging the services of an appropriate woman.”
“Lady Catherine will be happy to do so, I assure you. She may even know of a few such ladies searching for positions. I shall be certain to inform her when I arrive at Netherfield.”
“Mama!” exclaimed Lydia, no longer able to endure what she thought was a travesty of justice. “This is all nonsense. What need do I have for a companion?”
“The need, Lydia,” said Mrs. Bennet, throwing her youngest a quelling glare, “is to teach you how to behave properly.”
“I need no such instruction,” insisted the girl.
“That you continue to speak out of turn proves youdo,” said Mrs. Bennet, unconcerned by Lydia’s continued protestations. “When you can speak without such petulance, then perhaps we shall reconsider whether you are mature.”
The girl was not happy with her mother’s rebuke, but she appeared to possess some measure of restraint. She glowered and pouted, but she did not protest again, which was a balm to Elizabeth’s nerves. The tea service came, and Mrs. Bennet busied herself fixing the cups, entrusting them to Jane to hand to Mr. Darcy and the rest of her daughters. Mr. Darcy accepted his with a word of thanks, but Elizabeth noted that his attention never wavered from the youngest Bennet.
“From this,” said he after a moment, “I must assume your daughters do not appreciate the prospect of having a companion.”
“That is an understatement, Mr. Darcy,” said Jane, provingthe girls had frayed even her temper.
“May I ask why?” asked he of Kitty and Lydia.
“Do we need to explain?” demanded Lydia, her glare suggesting she thought Mr. Darcy deficient. “Such a woman at Longbourn will be the death of all our fun.”
“Ah, then I believe I understand,” said Darcy with a nod. “You suppose a companion will be all lessons and instruction, with no time for more pleasurable activities.”
“Will it not?” ventured Kitty.
“Life, Miss Kitty, is full of those matters with which we might prefer to dispense,” replied Mr. Darcy. “It is a serious business, and we must meet it with gravity, though I suspect we are also meant to enjoy our experiences. Remember that we would not appreciate the more pleasurable activities if life were nothing but frivolity.”
Lydia regarded the gentleman with no little suspicion. “What do you mean?”
“Tell me this, Miss Lydia,” replied he. “If you knew only joy in life, would you appreciate it, or would it seem normal?”
“I never thought of that,” replied Lydia.
“Most do not,” agreed Mr. Darcy. “Yet we all have times of joy and times of sorrow, times of serious thought and times of carefree fun. If we never experienced both, we would not know to prize the one and endure the other.
“The unfortunate fact is the cares of life consume us as we attempt to resolve them. You may sprain your ankle or misplace a beloved keepsake, and when you marry, you need to focus on such things as raising children. If you consider it, we are of a privileged class, such that we suffer fewer cares than those about us. The tenant farmer must concern himself with feeding his family, and for him to do that, he must work. His wife too is constantly engaged in the farm's work, so they may put food on the table for their children. Should the harvest fail, my incomewould suffer, but I would not become destitute—not unless the harvest should fail for many years in a row.”
“What has this to do with us?” asked Kitty.
“Your position in life ensures you will not suffer such deprivation,” said Mr. Darcy.
“Unless your father passes and we must leave Longbourn with no means of support,” said Mrs. Bennet, regarding her youngest pointedly.
Trust Mrs. Bennet to bring up the entail at such a time, though Elizabeth supposed she was not incorrect. Mr. Darcy smiled at Mrs. Bennet, nodded, and turned back to Kitty.
“Just so. As a young woman of your station, it is your responsibility to learn what you must to move in society successfully. As my aunt said, London is not Meryton. The expectations will be higher, and you must know what they are to find success. Rather than looking at your parents’ plan with horror, remember the benefits, for you will someday move in a society that has much more to offer than what you are accustomed to. Keep hold on that when you think your lessons are weighing you down.”
The girls were quiet and thoughtful after Mr. Darcy’s advice, such that they had a pleasant visit. When he rose to go, Mrs. Bennet unsubtly directed Elizabeth to see Mr. Darcy to the door, which she did without complaint. As they reached the drive, where Mr. Darcy’s horse awaited his return, she turned to him.
