The Pemberley carriage arrived at Longbourn. Mr. Darcy’s appearance was not a complete surprise; his carriage had been seen and recognized yesterday on its way to Netherfield, and as Mrs. Darcy was already in the neighborhood, the citizens of Meryton guessed, correctly, that she was being joined by Mr. Darcy.
Although Mr. Darcy was greeted with the utmost respect by Mrs. Bennet, and even with some pleasure by Mr. Bennet, concern for Jane took precedence. Mr. Bingley helped her inside, while Mrs. Bennet and Kitty hovered around, doing everything they could to make her comfortable.
“It will only be a few more days, dear Jane. You must be patient. I know of no one who is more patient, Mr. Bingley.”
Mrs. Bennet, accustomed to praising her daughters to potential suitors in order to encourage proposals, had not given up this habit with the daughters who were successfully married.
“Truly, I am not that uncomfortable, Mamma.”
“She is an angel,” said Mr. Bingley.
“She is, is she not? I remember how difficult it was not to complain when I was expecting her,” said Mrs. Bennet. “But I managed, and Jane is managing too.”
Mr. Bennet cleared his throat, as if his memory of Mrs. Bennet when she had been in Jane’s condition was a little different from his wife’s, but he said nothing and contented himself with an amused glance at Elizabeth. Elizabeth was glad that her sister was absorbing all her mother’s attention, for it was better to minimize exchanges between Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Darcy. She asked her mother about Mary, who had not yet joined them; Mrs. Bennet said that Mary was upstairs finishing something but had promised to come down shortly.
Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet settled into conversation, Mr. Darcy first expressing his condolences on the death of Mr. Collins, and second inquiring about Mr. Bennet’s ankle, and finally thanking Mr. Bennet for the summons. All was resolved, he said, but his presence had been necessary. Some person – they did not know who – had been attempting to extort money from Elizabeth under false pretenses.
“I suppose wealth attracts fortune hunters of all types,” said Mr. Bennet. “Do you wish to tell me more about what happened? My information came from Jane, not Lizzy, and Jane would not betray her sister’s confidence.”
Mr. Darcy explained that he would rather not, at least not at this time. Mr. Bennet said he had no objection to not hearing this information – his natural indolence made it easier for him to exercise self-restraint with respect to curiosity – and he turned the subject to the books that Elizabeth had brought him when she arrived a few weeks ago. Mr. Bennet understood that the volumes had been selected by Mr. Darcy himself. “May I compliment you, sir, in your excellent taste in many things – in literature as well as in wives! What is your opinion of Waverley?”
Elizabeth smiled as the two men discussed the relative merits of poetry and prose. She listened but said little; she was more fatigued by recent events than she had realized.
She next turned her attention to Mary, who was entering the room. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley rose to their feet in acknowledgment of the arrival of their sister-in-law, but the ladies barely noticed the courtesy.
“Where have you been, Mary?” reproached Mrs. Bennet. “We have visitors! You must have heard the carriage!”
“I wanted to finish the chapter,” Mary excused herself. “But I have just looked out the window. My aunt Philips is coming to the house with my uncle’s clerk, Mr. Morris.”
Elizabeth sighed. She could not protect Mr. Darcy entirely from her immediate family, but she had hoped to spare him from being importuned by Mrs. Philips. But she caught his eye, and he smiled at her. She realized that her husband did not need protection.
“Very well. Kitty, ring the bell for more tea,” said Mrs. Bennet.
The door was opened, the pair could be heard entering, and Mrs. Philips’s voice rang out.
“Sister! I have such news! Such terrible, terrible news!”
Everyone in the drawing-room stopped their conversation to exchange glances while the pair from Meryton rushed in. Elizabeth saw that her aunt did, indeed, appear to be extremely distressed, and she had a spasm of alarm regarding the health of her uncle Philips.
“Sister? What is it? Get up, Kitty, make way, and let her sit down,” said Mrs. Bennet.
Kitty made room for her aunt, who was having what could be described as hysterics. Usually this was something in which her sister Mrs. Bennet was the virtuosa, but on this occasion, thanks to inspiration, Mrs. Philips outperformed her sister.
“I have such news! Such dreadful news!” She then paused in her outburst to acknowledge the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, and Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. “You are here as well. That is good. Everyone must hear what has happened.”
Mr. Darcy bowed silently, while Mr. Bingley expressed his concern.
“What has happened, Aunt?” asked Jane, who was alarmed, but whose general serenity made it difficult for most to perceive her distress.
“A moment,” said Aunt Philips. She could rarely expect to have such an audience; she wished to enjoy it to the fullest. “My smelling salts, if you would, Kitty,” said Aunt Philips, holding out her reticule.
Kitty obligingly rummaged through her aunt’s reticule, while Mrs. Bennet cried: “Oh! Sister! What is it? What has happened?”
“Do not keep us in suspense,” urged Elizabeth, even though she was certain that the suspense would not last long.
“How is Mr. Philips?” inquired Mr. Bennet, whose thoughts had followed the same path as Elizabeth’s. Mr. Philips’s red face and corpulent figure could be harbingers of an apoplectic attack.
Mr. Morris, still standing, assured them that Mr. Philips was in his usual health, but then showed restraint and waited for Mrs. Philips to speak.
Kitty administered the smelling salts to Mrs. Philips, who then decided that she was sufficiently recovered to be able to explain why she had walked the mile from Meryton to Longbourn.
“Oh! Sister! Mrs. Smith is dead, and I found the body myself!”
CHAPTER XXXVII
The reactions of Mrs. Philips’s listeners were both gratifying and various; they ranged from shocked exclamations of horror by Mrs. Bennet, to more gently expressed sympathy on the part of the Bennet daughters and Mr. Bingley, to the uninformed Mr. Darcy leaning over to Mr. Bennet and inquiring in a low voice, “Who is Mrs. Smith?”
While Mr. Bennet explained in undertones to Mr. Darcy the identity of Mrs. Smith – a middle-aged widow who was a tenant of Mr. and Mrs. Philips, information which did not stimulate Mr. Darcy’s interest in the poor woman, but at least made the matter intelligible – the others demanded details from Mrs. Philips.
“When did this happen, Aunt?” Elizabeth inquired, while Kitty made sure that the newest arrivals had tea and Mary arranged for another chair to be brought into the drawing-room so that Mr. Morris could sit down.
“Only two hours ago!” she exclaimed.
“I believe it is more than four hours ago now,” said Mr. Morris.
“Tell us everything!” demanded Mrs. Bennet.
Mrs. Philips was eager to do so, and although she was not the most methodical of narrators, the gist of her experience was soon conveyed, especially as she was assisted and occasionally corrected by the attentive Mr. Morris. The day before, Mrs. Smith had been expected to tea. Despite her expectations, a thaw in relations had occurred shortly after Mrs. Philips relayed the warning about Mrs. Ford.
The unfamiliar name prompted Mr. Darcy to inquire about the identity of Mrs. Ford. Elizabeth obliged by explaining that Mrs. Ford had been an unreliable nursery maid of Mrs. Collins’s son Lewis. Mr. Darcy, still feeling as if he did not completely comprehend the situation despite his possession of these details, decided to let the information flow to everyone else without further interruption on his part.
Mrs. Philips continued her narration. Mrs. Smith, however, despite being expected yesterday for tea, had not appeared at Mrs. Philips’s house; nor had she sent her excuses. Even when thei
r friendship had been at its coolest, Mrs. Smith had always sent regrets when she declined invitations. Mrs. Philips, concerned, told a servant to inquire; the servant went, and then returned, explaining that no one had answered the door. Mrs. Philips had later consulted with Mr. Philips. Mrs. Smith was their tenant, staying in rooms which they owned. Could she be ill? Could she simply have made an unexpected journey? Could she have departed without paying?
Apprehensive, but with no idea what awaited them, this morning Mrs. Philips and Mr. Morris had walked to the building, taking the extra key with them. Mrs. Philips went in case Mrs. Smith were ill or required some sort of female assistance, while Mr. Morris accompanied her to give her moral fortitude, as Mrs. Philips was uneasy in this mission. They knocked on the door but there was no answer; they called aloud, but there was still no answer, and finally they decided that they would enter. So Mr. Morris unlocked the door and they crossed the threshold.
And thus they found her, dead on her own sofa! – or rather, what was even worse, dead on a sofa belonging to Mr. and Mrs. Philips, for the rooms had been let furnished.
“Oh! The sight! The smell!” exclaimed Mrs. Philips, and demanded that her smelling salts be handed to her again. Kitty, squeezed in beside her, obliged.
Once Mrs. Philips was a little recovered, everyone plied her and Mr. Morris with questions. When and how had Mrs. Smith died? Did they know? Who were her relations, if she had any? How did they plan to reach them?
Regarding when exactly Mrs. Smith had died, Mrs. Philips and Mr. Morris did not know. Perhaps the senior Mr. Jones, whom they had summoned, along with Mr. Philips and Mr. Clarke, shortly after the awful discovery, would be able to determine something, but Mrs. Philips believed that Mrs. Smith had been dead by the time of the missed tea appointment. “I last saw her three days ago,” she said, “so it must have been after that,” which certainly seemed reasonable to her audience, then she added the lament: “We will never get another tenant now. Those rooms will be empty for another year!”
Mrs. Bennet agreed that no one would now take the rooms, and mourned her sister’s loss of income, but Mr. Bennet was less pessimistic. He pointed out that although Mrs. Smith’s demise was certainly regrettable, and that Mr. and Mrs. Philips would wish to have the rooms cleaned, and perhaps they might want to dispose of the sofa (such a handsome sofa! Mrs. Philips remarked, remembering that she had had it reupholstered only two years before) people died every day, in houses and rooms all around the country. “Those lodgings do not remain empty,” he said.
Mr. Bennet’s words had little effect on his sister-in-law, who was enjoying her situation too much to be reasoned out of it. Moreover, Mrs. Philips was able to contradict him by saying: “Mr. Bennet, you do not yet know how she died, or why.”
“Then how did Mrs. Smith die, Aunt Philips?” asked Jane.
“She took her own life!” was the answer.
They all exclaimed again in shock, with Mary remarking gravely that if these suicides continued, the north side of the parish church would become very crowded.
“How can you be sure that her death was a suicide?” Elizabeth inquired.
This time Mr. Morris supplied the relevant details. They had found a letter on the table beside the sofa. He could confirm that it was Mrs. Smith’s handwriting; he had seen it before when communicating with her regarding the letting of the property, and Mrs. Philips had seen Mrs. Smith’s hand before as well. In the letter Mrs. Smith plainly stated that she intended to take her own life.
As to how, they had found a tea cup containing what appeared to be belladonna in it, the same poison that Miss King had used, although this time they found no bill of sale. The elder Mr. Jones had identified the substance, explaining that he kept belladonna in his shop, because small amounts were useful against the headache, and said that he had noticed that a quantity of the very same medicine was missing from his cabinet. However, although the two facts made it likely that Mrs. Smith had taken the belladonna, the elder Mr. Jones could not confirm it with complete certitude. According to his records, neither he nor his son nor their shop boy had sold any belladonna to Mrs. Smith. He reviewed his accounts on a regular basis and certainly would have noted a new customer. Mrs. Smith could have had the medicine with her for a long time; she could have brought it with her from her previous abode; it was impossible to know.
“Could she have somehow taken the belladonna from Mr. Jones’s shop?” asked Mr. Bingley. “Without being detected?”
No one in the drawing-room at Longbourn House could answer Mr. Bingley’s question, as no one there had ever attempted to enter Mr. Jones’s shop undetected. Mr. Morris, who knew Mr. Jones best, said that he believed that Mr. Jones usually locked the door, but he did not know if there were spare keys or occasions when one could enter unseen.
Jane suggested that Mrs. Smith’s avoidance of Mrs. Philips during the past few weeks could be a sign of melancholia. Although Mrs. Philips exclaimed that this possibility was distressing and sad, her demeanor suggested otherwise, as it meant that Mrs. Smith’s persistent refusal of Mrs. Philips’s many invitations had little to do with Mrs. Philips.
With respect to locks and keys, there was more evidence regarding Mrs. Smith. The key that Mr. Philips had presented to Mrs. Smith when she paid her first rent was on the table beside the sofa on which Mrs. Smith had been found dead. This indicated that no one could have entered Mrs. Smith’s apartment unless Mrs. Smith had let them in, and that she had been alone when she died.
“Why would you lock your door if you were trying to take your life?” wondered Kitty. “Eventually you would want your body to be found, would you not? Why make it more difficult for everyone else?”
“That is an excellent point, Kitty,” said Mrs. Bennet. “This Mrs. Smith was most inconsiderate, especially of you, Sister!”
Mrs. Philips appreciated the sympathetic indignation, while Elizabeth had other ideas on the matter, suggesting that if one were truly determined to die, one would want to keep from being discovered before Death finished its course. “That could explain why Mrs. Smith locked her door. But that seems to me to be a much lesser question. Do you have any clue as to why she would take her life?”
Mrs. Philips said yes, there was more, and she gestured to Mr. Morris that he should continue and tell what else was in the note. Mr. Morris, not averse to dominating the conversation, explained that in Mrs. Smith’s last letter, she confessed that she had been responsible for several recent crimes around Meryton. She had stolen Miss King’s jewels, and she had even killed Mr. Collins!
“She wrote that she could no longer live with herself!” added Mrs. Philips. “That is why she took her life!”
The additional information completely astonished the entire Bennet family – as well as the servants of Longbourn House, who had discovered that something very interesting was being discussed in the drawing-room, and who had congregated in the vestibule to listen. Even the cook had come the roundabout way from the kitchen; only when a smoky smell reached their collective nostrils did she recall that the goose needed to be turned and everyone heard the sound of her heavy footsteps and doors creaking open and shut as she hastened back to her usual place.
“So Mrs. Smith stole Miss King’s jewels!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. “And she killed Mr. Collins!”
Everyone expressed shock and disgust at both deeds, and Mary opined that now the north side of the church seemed too good a resting place for Mrs. Smith. It was a terrible sin to take your own life, but to take the life of another – of a clergyman! And it seemed inappropriate to put Mrs. Smith near Miss King for eternity, as Mrs. Smith had wronged Miss King.
“So that is why Mr. Selby could not find Miss King’s jewels,” remarked Kitty. “Did you find them in Mrs. Smith’s rooms?”
Mr. Morris said they had yet to thoroughly search through Mrs. Smith’s possessions, but no, they had not found anything that they could identify as having belonged to Miss King.
Elizabeth wondered exactly
how the woman had managed to steal Miss King’s jewels, and whether she had committed the theft before or after Miss King’s death; missing jewelry could have contributed to Miss King’s melancholia. As Elizabeth had not been intimate with either woman, she could imagine that there might have been opportunities of which she was unaware. (Miss King’s former maidservant Hannah would be very thankful, observed Jane, and at least Mrs. Smith’s confessional note would clear one innocent party.)
Everyone could understand why Mrs. Smith had taken Miss King’s jewels; robbery, although a crime, was at least intelligible. But the other confession – the murder of Mr. Collins – was incomprehensible.
“Mrs. Smith killed Mr. Collins! Good gracious, why would she do that?” asked Mrs. Bennet.
“Did they even know each other?” inquired Mr. Bingley.
Mrs. Philips tried to remember if Mrs. Smith had ever mentioned Mr. Collins. Certainly Mrs. Smith had heard of the man, as she had met Lady Lucas more than once at Mrs. Philips’s, but as far as she recalled, Mrs. Smith had never mentioned his name herself. Everyone then appealed to Elizabeth, to inquire if she knew of a connection between the two. Elizabeth had stayed with him and his wife in Kent for a six-week visit about a year and a half earlier, so of those in the drawing room, she knew Mr. Collins best.
Elizabeth, however, shook her head and said she was ignorant of any connection. “When I was in Hunsford I do not recall Mr. Collins ever mentioning anything of particular concerning a Mrs. Smith. There was a Mrs. Smith in the Hunsford parish, but she was not the Mrs. Smith that I met at Mrs. Philips’s house – she was much taller and younger and had a completely different manner. You should address your inquiries to Mrs. Collins; her information would be far more complete.”
Mr. Morris said that he planned to go to Lucas Lodge immediately after Longbourn House. Finally, Mr. Morris had brought Mrs. Smith’s confessional note with him. “Mr. Bennet, as you are Mr. Collins’s relative, I thought you should read this.”
The Meryton Murders Page 21