As to your other question, I have encountered that strange belief on occasion—the idea that anyone missing a limb is barred from eternal life—usually among the poor and illiterate. It is an infernal idea—quite literally spawned by the Tempter of Souls—to torture those who are infirm in body, giving them reason to doubt that they might reach heaven on that account! You may tell Annie (and the maid, if you can contrive it), that nowhere in Holy Writ is there any condition for entrance into the kingdom of heaven except faith. “A bruised reed He shall not break,” and the care of the Almighty for the lame, the broken, and the orphan seen throughout the Scriptures ought to set that pernicious myth to rest.
As for explaining to Annie about faith, the sermons of the Rev. Septimus Atkins, rector of the parish where I was born, have been a help to me in this. Some of his sermons were collected and published not long ago. He often addressed how children ought to be taught eternal truths. If you think it may be a help to you, you are very welcome to borrow the book. I will also attempt to visit Annie, if you wish it.
I hope you may not think I have forgotten about getting a place for Annie to live. I have a little more to arrange but will soon be able to reveal all my plans.
Yours, &c,
J. Caldicot, or Mr. Turns-the-Wrong-Way
My Dear Mama,
I have come to believe that you may be right about my finding a wife, as you mentioned in a letter to me not long ago. And because I have frequently mentioned her in my letters, you will doubtless be very little surprised if I tell you that Miss Kitty Bennet has stolen my heart. I remain in some doubt of hers, however. She is so very different from Chloe Athenbury! That young lady had the face of the goddess Diana and knew it—knew also how to draw in unsuspecting youth to worship at her temple, and (I see now) reveled in it. Miss Bennet has a very pleasing face, but she will never be called a great beauty. However, she has a kind heart, great good sense, and (if her care for a crippled orphan girl is any indication) a considerable capacity for love.
I am afraid that in her mind I have been labeled The Vicar, and she no more sees the man beneath the vestments (so to speak) than she would a footman under his livery. I suppose there is nothing for it but to try my chances. I hesitate, however, hoping against hope to find some way to appear as a romantic hero in her eyes.
It is a little humbling to realize that I am not as content in my single state as I had imagined I was. And that is all to the good, is it not?
I would not object to your prayers.
In loving affection,
John
My Dear Madam,
As you are a dear friend of my Mama, and you are also my godmother, I beg leave to ask you a very impertinent question. I have noticed your kind attentions to Miss Catherine Bennet and suspect that she might confide in you. Therefore I am making bold to ask: do you think Miss Bennet has formed an attachment to any particular gentleman? I have thought of paying my addresses to her, but if her heart is already given to another, I will not importune her on the subject.
I half suspect you of matchmaking between the two of us, and I beg your pardon if I am wrong. If I am correct, you have done what I thought it was not possible to do, and that is to find the perfect wife for me—if only she will agree.
Yours faithfully, etc.,
John Caldicot
My dear John,
To your suspicion of my matchmaking, I have nothing to say. You may imagine me affronted by the question or too sly to admit to it—either way, I will not make any comment on the subject.
In answer to your question, I do not know if Miss Bennet’s heart belongs to anyone. I have not heard her name linked with anyone else’s—which I no doubt would have if there was a noticeable attachment (she is Mrs. Darcy’s sister, after all). That is no guarantee, however. Miss Bennet does not wear her heart on her sleeve, as the saying goes, and it is perfectly possible that she is smitten with someone I do not know of. However, there is reason for you to hope, I think.
She could not do better than you, my dear boy, and I greatly hope to see the two of you united in matrimony before long.
Your loving godmother,
Isabel, Lady Hampshire
My dear Margaret,
He is caught! John wrote to me today to ask if I knew if Kitty’s affections were engaged to anyone. I had the pleasure of telling him that I knew of no one in particular. If only we could be sure of the young lady. Her sister, Mrs. Darcy, is doing all she can to further John’s cause, but of course she cannot make her like him! I would not think that a country miss with no fortune would balk at marrying a Caldicot, especially one as handsome and good as John is. But there is no telling what she may do. At least we may be confident that she will not mislead him into thinking she likes him if she does not.
I am, etc.,
Isabel
My Dear Isabel,
Yes, John wrote to me (he must have written the same day he wrote to you), to tell me that “Kitty” had captured his heart! I consider it a great triumph, and am very grateful to you, my dear friend, for your part in it. As you say, if only we could be sure of the young lady! I dare to hope that the Christmas charity ball might be such an occasion that will foster romance. I suppose you cannot contrive to have them dance together again? But I forget—John’s heart is already captive and no doubt he will seek her out himself.
Dear me! I little thought that at my time of life I would derive such enjoyment from matchmaking. I have not been so diverted since—well, I do not know when I have been so diverted! If we succeed in uniting John and Kitty, I propose we form our own charitable organization: The Society for Uniting Lonely and Worthy Bachelors with Unexceptionable Young Ladies!
Yours in a fervor of plotting,
Margaret
Chapter 4
Dear Jane,
The house here in London is so beautifully decorated for Christmas, which is but a week away. Sprigs of holly adorn the mantles over the fires in every room, and Mr. Darcy, to my great surprise and Lizzy’s delight, ordered that a kissing bough with mistletoe be hung at the top of the stairs. Do you remember how stern Mr. Darcy seemed always to be when we first were acquainted with him? If you had told me then that this very correct and cold gentleman would one day be seen passionately kissing Lizzy under mistletoe when they thought no one else was present, I would not have believed it. (I beg you would not tell Lizzy that I saw them. It was quite an accident, and I was so astounded at the spectacle that I had not the wit to retreat immediately. Fortunately, they were too distracted with each other to notice my stealthy withdrawal from the scene when I came to my senses.)
You must be impatient to hear about how the dinner with the Arnots went off. It was not the Arnots alone: Aunt and Uncle Gardiner were there, too. I suppose it went well—there was no lack of conversation, no one argued about politics, and Georgiana did very well playing and singing for the assembled guests. Mrs. Arnot talked a little to me, although not as much as to Lizzy and Georgiana. Mr. James Arnot was seated next to me at dinner.
I had hoped that Mr. Arnot and I might be able to talk over more important things than the trivialities that seem to make up most of our conversations. However, I somehow found it difficult to bring up serious subjects. He asked me how I contrived to amuse myself when I was not attending balls and dinners, and I began to tell him about helping with the charity ball (which I think I told you he will attend). I described my efforts to teach the children to dance, and somehow I mentioned that we practiced at the vicarage where Mr. Caldicot resides.