My Dear Isabel,
I have John’s word that he will attend your ball this week. He tells me, however, that he is planning on doing nothing but talking to the other guests and playing cards! Do make him dance! Of course I am pleased that he is not one of those coxcombs who think of nothing but fashion, gaming, and debutants (which would be hard for him to do as a vicar, I admit), and of course I am gratified by his devotion to that Society of his. However, I think grief for his sister, as well as being thrown over by that minx, Chloe Athenbury, has made him bury himself in his parish work to the exclusion of almost everything else.
I have determined that what he requires is a wife. He needs someone to look after him and give him balance. He will be unfit for anything, even his profession, if his toil is so completely unremitting. Will you be so kind as to look out a wife for him? I trust your judgement. He needs a gentlewoman, but one that will not object to his little waifs. I daresay it is better if she comes without a fortune. I do not know where you might meet with such a girl, but I imagine you will.
I am, in friendship, yours, etc.,
Margaret
Dear Jane,
At last I have been to a really big ball. There were three hundred people in attendance, so the newspaper reported the next day. Everything was so very elegant, and some of the dresses—! You would not credit it, I daresay. I was not asked to dance every dance, but I did dance a good many. Mr. Arnot was there, and he asked me for the first two dances and was very agreeable. Georgiana and Lizzy danced, too, and so did Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Darcy knows Lord Hampshire, so Lady Hampshire was very affable to Lizzy, Georgiana, and me. She came over to us once between dances and asked how we did and all about our stay in London. She asked Georgiana how she was enjoying her first season. Georgiana was trying her utmost to be friendly, but I could see she was uneasy. I made a little remark about something Georgiana had said, and, as I was hoping, Lady Hampshire turned to me and asked about my family—asked as if she were truly interested, not as if she was merely vulgarly curious. All at once Lady Hampshire saw a gentleman passing by and she reached out and plucked his elbow and said, “John, my dear fellow, you must dance! Here is a young lady, Miss Bennet, who will be desolated if you do not ask her to stand up with you for the next two.” She winked at me to show that she was merely teasing him—can you imagine Lady Hampshire doing such a thing! Well, you do not know her, so I do not know what you could imagine, but I would have thought her too haughty to be on such familiar terms with me.
And when I looked at the gentleman’s face, it was another surprise, because it was Mr. Caldicot that had come to dinner the week before—the morose clergyman I told you of. He looked startled at Lady Hampshire’s command, and there was a moment when he seemed quite annoyed, but he was a gentleman in his manners and was very civil. Poor fellow, there was nothing else he could do with Lady Hampshire standing there smiling at him, and me (I am afraid) looking all too conscious. I suppose I ought to have said something to let him know that he need not, if he did not want to, but how could I say I did not want to dance when I had just been dancing? And if I refused him, I would not be able to dance the rest of the evening!
So Mr. Caldicot did the only thing he could do and asked me to dance the next two with him and I did the only thing I could do and consented. He was a more agreeable partner than I had thought he would be. We conversed very amiably about London and music, and he danced very well. I must say he is rather wasted as a clergyman. He did not go on and on about his charitable society, which I had been afraid that he might. I did ask him about a little girl he had mentioned when he came to dinner, who was sick, and he said she was getting better.
After that, I danced with a Mr. Kenton, who took me in to supper, and flirted outrageously with me the whole time we were eating. That was not very enjoyable. I suppose I must be getting more sensible, as such attentions give me no pleasure anymore. Lizzy told me later that she was pleased to see that I did not encourage him. I suppose I would have done so even a year ago.
All in all, it was a marvelous ball. Georgiana was not quite so nervous as she was before, and I trust it was helpful that Lizzy and I helped her to think of things she could talk about with her partners. I hope she will be even less frightened at her next ball.
Your loving sister,
Kitty
My Dear Margaret,
I followed your instructions and forced your reticent son to dance. I hinted to him more than once that I expected him to do so, but he spent the first half of the ball talking to various male friends of his—no doubt cultivating them for donations to his Society! Finally, before he could escape the ballroom altogether, I found a pretty, unaffected girl (a relative by marriage of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire) and compelled him to dance with her. He appeared to enjoy those two dances, but it did not prompt him to ask anyone else, and he vanished into the card-room as soon has the dances were finished. I watched the girl—Catherine is her name, but she is known as Kitty—at supper and throughout the rest of the evening as I had opportunity. I was very pleased with her. She went in to supper with Frederick Kenton, that silly friend of my son’s who flirts with every girl in sight, but she did her best to dampen him. She was neither shy nor forward; she was impressed but not overwhelmed by the grandness of the ball. I think John could not do better.
I cannot too obviously throw them together—indeed, I do not know precisely how I can contrive for them to meet again, but if it is ever in my power, rest assured that I will do so.
Faithfully,
Isabel
Dear Isabel,
If I mistake not, that is the very girl John wrote to me about a week ago, after he had dined with the Darcys. He did not think her perfection, of course, or fall in love at the first sight of her, but he called her pretty and said he wished she would admire him—or words to that effect. If they do not meet soon, I may have to come to Town myself and conspire to have them encounter each other frequently. There is no telling if she will like John, of course, but I believe that he could easily be brought to like her.
I am anxious to hear of any progress there might be in that direction.
In hope,
Margaret
Dear Mama,
I attended Lady Hampshire’s ball last week as you bid me. I must say that it was refreshing to be in a place of such beauty and elegance, with people whose manners are what I was accustomed to for so many years. I do not wish you to think that I consider myself above those I serve in my parish, but I found it similar to coming home from the Grand Tour: there is a comfort in coming home and hearing English spoken again after being surrounded by foreign languages all the time on the Continent. Likewise, there was a comfort in being able to converse with those I have most in common with. I also was able to talk to several gentlemen and ladies of means about the Society, and I trust some seeds were sown that will bear fruit in the days to come.
I did dance once—Lady Hampshire constrained me to do so! The young lady was Miss Kitty Bennet, that I told you I met at Mr. Darcy’s house when I dined there. I am thankful to say that she was not flirtatious or timid, but was able to converse sensibly and even asked me about one of the little girls I had told of at that dinner. It might have been worse.