The Other Bennet Sister

by Janice Hadlow

It is a sad fact of life that if a young woman is unlucky enough to come into the world without expectations, she had better do all she can to ensure she is born beautiful. To be poor and handsome is misfortune enough; but to be penniless and plain is a hard fate indeed.

Only Mary, the middle daughter, possessed neither beauty, wit, nor charm; but her sisters shone so brightly that they seemed to cancel out her failure and, indeed, eclipse her presence altogether,

‘Indeed, they are very pleasing,’ agreed Mrs Phillips obligingly. ‘And I doubt that Mary will ever be admired as they are. But, sister, I wonder if you aren’t rather harsh in judging her as you do? Perhaps she suffers by comparisons. If Jane and Lizzy were a little less handsome, then she might seem prettier in your eyes?’

‘Well, I’m very sorry for the girl. It cannot be easy to be the only ugly duckling amongst so many swans.’ ‘Yes, it is a great disappointment to me, and excessively bad for my nerves. But I find that once I look at my other daughters, I soon feel better. Where has she got to with the sugar?’

‘Mr Bennet, I have something to tell you. I’m afraid it’s very provoking news. Would you like to know what it is?’ Mr Bennet lowered his paper and looked over it evenly at his wife. ‘Whatever my wishes in the matter, I am sure you intend to tell me.’ ‘Mary needs spectacles. The oculist says she cannot see without them. There, Mr Bennet!’

‘I haven’t seen you these two hours. Lydia told me you have been dancing – with the oculist’s son! With the boy who made your glasses! I said it couldn’t be true – that even you, Mary, would have more consideration than to subject me to such an embarrassment. His father keeps a shop, you know. With a bell on the door!’

Don’t believe you can find happiness celebrating the good fortune of others. An eternity spent smiling and cooing over the good luck of your friends makes the heart sick in the end. And above all, don’t long for what you cannot have, but learn to recognise what is possible, and when it presents itself, seize upon it with both hands. It seems to me this is the only route to happiness for those of us born with neither beauty, riches, nor charm.’

‘Heaven forbid! That would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find agreeable a man whom one is determined to hate!’

At this, Elizabeth could bear no more and stood up. Mary saw her dart a glance towards Mr Darcy, who stared back, grave and disapproving.

It was impossible to say whether gratitude at his going so quickly or disappointment at the speediness of his return was uppermost in the minds of those around the table;

‘It was inexpressibly distasteful for me to have to receive them and worse still to be obliged to be civil to that odious Charlotte.’ ‘As you didn’t seem to exert yourself overmuch in the direction of civility, it is to be hoped you will recover very quickly.’

‘I am most grateful to you, Miss Bennet. I was not at all disturbed. You were so quiet it was as though there was no person in the room but myself.’ ‘I am glad to have been so . . . negligible a presence, sir.’

As Mr Hayward strode into the room, still innocent of what awaited him, he was assailed on all sides by the children begging to know what he had brought them. Ah, he said, it was really too bad – he had intended to bring lemon drops – but had forgot them – he had meant to pick up some pralines – but they had slipped his mind – had thought to buy sherbets – but had been distracted. He could only hope they would forgive him. Then, just as they began to think they were really to be disappointed, he pulled from his pocket a very large bag of sugarplums, which sent them happily away to the corner of the room, where they consumed their booty in silent satisfaction.

‘There are times when I am astonished by my own magnanimity,’ he declared, as his wife offered him the last rasher of bacon.

When he smiled at her in a particular way all his own, when he commented approvingly on something she said, when he told a story that made her laugh – and above all, when his hand once grazed her own as he handed her a book – then she knew without a doubt that these were feelings of an altogether different kind.

‘There,’ he whispered, nodding discreetly towards an over-dressed gentleman whose finery looked shabbier with every step that drew him closer to them, ‘is Lord So-and-So, an unlucky gambler living off his expectations at very much the wrong end of Brook Street with a single blackguardly manservant. He’s here tonight looking for some wealthy widow, who’ll fall gratefully into his arms and provide him with the income he knows he deserves.’

was a friendly, chatty letter, and at the end of it he sent everyone his best love. Mary spent a great deal of time brooding over the precise application of that phrase, trying to decide the exact proportion of his affection which might have been addressed to her.

‘I hope your efforts have met with more success than mine.’ ‘May I see what you have done?’ ‘I don’t think so. Afterwards, it would be impossible for you to think of me ever again as a man of feeling.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ agreed Mary. ‘No one returns from the Lakes without an album of sketches to pass around their friends. If ours are too poor to be shown, what are we to do?’ ‘We might say they were lost on the Keswick road.’ ‘Stolen by thieves.’ ‘Eaten by sheep!’

He smiled at her, and his expression – in which regret now seemed uppermost – pierced her to the heart.

I would be very honoured, Miss Bennet, if you would accept my hand in marriage.’ Mary could not conceal her surprise; and Mr Ryder looked across at her sadly. ‘Your astonishment does not do me much credit, I feel. But perhaps that is no more than I deserve.’