“For the present, I am happy to accept the position you offer me,” she said at last. “At this moment I am alone and under no obligation…but five years is a long time. If you agree, I would first accept your offer to be the Principal for now. I promise not to leave for a year. And you know that I shall not depart without ensuring that my work will be continued with equal seriousness.”
“Precisely. I may say that I have discerned what manner of person you are, and I trust both my own judgement andMargaret’s assistance,” he added with a touch of humour, glancing upwards. “Then you accept for one year?”
“Exactly; and if, in the meantime, my view should alter and I decide to remain for five, I shall inform you.”
Elizabeth said this chiefly to dispel the look of disappointment upon his face. She would certainly remain for one year, whatever the near future might bring; yet she could not help hoping that great love would appear, and when it did, she might be obliged to relinquish her post.
“I know very well the reason for your hesitation,” said Mr Clinton.
“I am sure you do. And I cannot but reflect that, although I have always thought myself a woman of modern principles—desiring independence and wishing to maintain myself by honest employment—still, when it comes to love and marriage, these prevail with me as with others.”
Elizabeth looked at him, a little disconcerted, for the admission surprised her and stood somewhat in contradiction to the opinion she had long held of herself.
“Do not be disappointed,” said Mr Clinton unexpectedly. “You are indeed a woman of these times, thinking differently from your mother and grandmother, desiring another manner of life; but around us, nothing has changed. Society and its rules remain the same. It is natural to wish for employment and independence. Still, you should not be forced to choose between working and marrying. Both ought to be possible, if that be your wish.”
Elizabeth looked at him with gratitude. “When might I begin?”
“You are in haste, Miss Bennet.”
“Indeed, I am. Every day of liberty and independence counts,” she replied, and both laughed, well content—each with the result of that meeting.
“And naturally, before all is arranged, I must first confer with your father, Mr Bennet,” he added.
When he was gone, she sat awhile in silent reflection, hardly knowing whether to laugh at the strangeness of the proposal or to rejoice in the prospect of such independence. Still, she now had the difficult task of convincing her family that it was indeed an exceptional opportunity for her.
Chapter 13
No sooner had Mr Clinton departed than her uncle burst into the room and cried, “Well? Have you accepted?”
Elizabeth broke into laughter, as if a weight had been lifted after so much agitation. Nor was it merely the day’s events or Mr Clinton’s proposal that occasioned such relief, but all that had lately occurred; for Mr Darcy’s declaration had never left her mind, continuing to disturb her whenever she thought upon it.
“I have accepted,” she replied. But her uncle, who knew her exceedingly well, perceived the playful sparkle in her eyes and dropped into an armchair. “You have refused him as well! A record indeed in our family—three proposals, three refusals.”
“No!” cried Elizabeth, laughing again as she awaited the arrival of her sister and aunt, who were, at that very moment, upon tenterhooks.
“My dear ones,” she began, when all were seated, “it was indeed a proposal, yet not of marriage. And I entreat you to be very open to what Mr Clinton has offered me, for it is at once precious and unexpected.”
“You are still underage; any proposition must be amended by Mr Bennet,” exclaimed her uncle, alarmed by the notion of an offer from a stranger.
“For only a few months more, Uncle. And in any case, I hope you have some confidence in me by now. Mr Clinton is the proprietor of one of the most distinguished young ladies’ academies in London—”
“Heavens!” cried her aunt. “The Margaret Clinton Academy?”
“Precisely. How do you know of it?”
“It is truly one of the most reputed establishments, though admittance is exceedingly difficult. I made enquiries once, for the girls.”
“Well then, they shall be admitted when their time comes, for Mr Clinton has offered that I become the Principal of the Margaret Clinton Academy.”
A generalohrose through the room, each listener betraying a different sentiment—astonishment, admiration, and, in Mr Gardiner’s case, a measure of apprehension, for he discerned obstacles sooner than the ladies did.
“My resolution is made,” continued Elizabeth, not wishing to allow time for any protest. “I shall begin as soon as may be.”
“As I just said, you cannot, however, take such a decision entirely upon yourself,” replied Mr Gardiner in the same slightly anxious tone. “Mr Bennet will wish to speak with Mr Clinton.”
“I shall write to him at once. Indeed, Mr Clinton himself desires to confer with Papa.”
“And should our father not approve?” asked Jane, already troubled by the thought of life without Elizabeth.
