Jane turned to Mary with a gentler expression, glad perhaps to move from what distressed her. “And you, Mary? You have seen Mr Greene.”
At this, Mary’s gravity suffered a visible alteration. A colour rose at once in her cheeks, and though she attempted to keep her composure, there was a softness in her face that made Elizabeth’s heart lift for a moment despite the distressing nature of their conversation.
“I did speak with him,” Mary said.
Elizabeth exchanged a quick glance with Jane. “Well, then, Mary? My curiosity is almost too much. Tell us about your adventure.”
“It was not an adventure,” Mary said austerely, though the increased warmth of her complexion did not support the lofty indifference of her tone. “Imerely called on him after church, when I knew he might be expected to have a few minutes at leisure.”
“And did he have them?” Elizabeth asked.
“He had as many as were necessary,” Mary answered. “Mr Greene is never hurried where serious matters are concerned.”
Jane’s smile deepened. “I am very glad of it. And what did he say?”
Mary drew a breath, as though arranging his wisdom in the best possible order before delivering it. “He heard me with the greatest kindness. I did not mention names at first, because I wished to proceed with caution, but when I described the sort of conduct that had awakened our concern, he understood me very well. He said that a wish to protect one’s family and neighbours from harm is a very proper motive.”
Though Mary’s tone was careful and measured, Elizabeth saw that this approval had delighted her. “That was well said of him,” she observed.
Mary inclined her head. “He is an excellent judge of such things. But he also warned me, very seriously, against the temptation to believe that a wicked man may be corrected merely by being talked about. To repeat accusations without proof, or to encourage suspicion for its own sake, would be unjust even when our fears are reasonable. He said that idle gossip is not made virtuous merely becauseits object may have done ill.”
Jane looked relieved. “That is exactly right.”
“It is,” Elizabeth said. “And it is precisely the difficulty. If Wickham were merely absurd, one might laugh at him. If he were merely disliked, one might avoid him. But he is admired. If we begin to speak against him without anything others will accept as evidence, we shall only be called malicious. Nor can I entirely wish it were otherwise. In most cases, gossip should not be accepted without proof.”
Mary nodded. “Mr Greene said something very similar. He believes there are occasions when silence becomes cowardice, but he also believes that loose reports can injure the innocent as easily as the guilty.”
Jane’s expression, which had been anxious before, softened into gratitude. “I am glad you consulted him. We shall all benefit from having heard such advice.”
Mary lowered her eyes, though not before Elizabeth saw the small look of pleasure that accompanied the praise. “He was very good,” she said quietly. “He listened with great patience.”
Elizabeth could not resist. “I have no doubt he did.”
Mary glanced at her with momentary suspicion. “What do you mean by that?”
“Only that I think any gentleman might show great patience when in company he particularly enjoys.”
Jane laughed, and even Mary, after making a small effort at dignity, allowed herself the beginning of a smile.
“He is a very sensible man,” she said.
“So we all agree,” Elizabeth replied. “I already respected Mr Greene for the excellence of his sermons and for what I have seen of his character, but now I find I may like him for his taste as well.”
Mary’s blush returned, and she looked forward rather than at either of her sisters. Elizabeth, though amused, felt at the same time a sincere satisfaction in what she saw. If Mary had found someone whose good sense she admired, and who in return valued her earnestness rather than merely tolerating it, there was no sisterly heart among them that would not wish the acquaintance to prosper.
“You are right about gossip,” she said after a pause. “We must not spread it, even now. In any case, it would not answer. Wickham is too well liked. There are people in Meryton who would believe him against half the town.”
All three were quiet for a long moment, thinking of the difficulty of their position. At last, Jane turned to Elizabeth with a hopeful expression. “Perhaps we have jumped to conclusions too quickly.There might yet be some explanation for all this. Or perhaps Mr Wickham might really wish to reform, though having done wrong in the past. What do you think, Lizzy?”
“I wish I could believe it,” Elizabeth said grimly, “but I cannot. Nor will you, when I tell you of my meeting with him yesterday.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “You truly spoke with him? Why did not you tell us?”
“It was on my walk last afternoon. Thanks to the supper mama gave last night, I have not had a moment to speak to you both in confidence since I returned. But I will gladly tell you now.”
“Please do,” Mary said. “And — thank you for waiting.”
At that, Jane and Elizabeth exchanged a small look of self-reproach. Mary’s thanks was an accusation, for she was quite right. It could not be denied that they were in the habit of confidences that did not include their younger sister, nor wondered at that in such a family as theirs, Mary might be left feeling very much alone.
