Prudence and Practicality

by C. J. Hill

  XXV

  Charlotte’s surprise visit and heartfelt questions regarding Mr. Collins’s connection to Lady Catherine had brought many uncomfortable memories back to the forefront of that lady’s mind, memories that she had tried to suppress over many years as best she could. Just how she and Mr. Collins were associated she would never explain to anyone, not even to him, and she had sworn Mr. Collins’ father to secrecy about the connection. The other parties who knew of the circumstances were all dead and the truth could no longer affect them.

  Throughout the evening, however, Lady Catherine’s mind was consumed by her awoken memories and the true reasons behind her determination to appoint and assist a young and newly-ordained clergyman into a most beneficial position – one that belied his limited abilities and experience.

  Her mind was reluctantly cast back almost thirty years to reflect upon the reasons for her magnanimous behaviour towards such a man as he.

  Without a doubt, the family name of Greville was an old and honourable one that spanned many generations and Lady Catherine’s father was one in a long line of Greville heirs who had held that position with pride, and tried to protect and preserve the inheritance as was their duty to do. Unfortunately, he inherited an estate diminished somewhat under the guidance of his grandfather and even more so under his father and so struggled to maintain the house, the grounds and the tenant farms in an equitable and efficient manner under the system that had been in place for hundreds of years. Their situation was not so reduced that the Greville family were in very straightened circumstances but they kept mainly to themselves, never entertaining more than twice a year and therefore unable to accept many invitations to the larger neighbourhood parties and balls. This successfully preserved the family coffers from excessive and unnecessary spending, while also protecting the many sisters from premature entry into the marital arena.

  The Greville boys, as expected, were all sent away to school as soon as they became of age, as their father had before them, along with his secret relief that there were an equal number of daughters who did not require the expense of an education. Young ladies were not expected to learn anything more than they chose, and it was understood that if any girl showed an interest, then the appropriate books would be chosen for them by Mr. Greville from the library. Since Mr. Greville’s notions of educational reading material differed greatly from that of his daughters’, after each girl had taken the brave step to decide that they would like to expand their mind, they invariably discovered, after fighting with the content of one of their father’s books, that their mind was surprisingly more expanded than they realised and went happily back to their previous pursuits of needlework and painting with the greatest relief.

  The Greville girls’ schooling was therefore very limited, not even including music or languages as the expense of hiring a tutor for each subject was deemed unnecessary. They were content to receive their small annual allowance with which to purchase their dresses and other frills and gave no further thought to any other accomplishments upon which they could be spending their time more wisely.

  The folly of not improving their minds was made very clear when the two elder daughters, Anne and Catherine, embarked upon their first ball and discovered that they, alone, were unable to converse intelligently on either recent literature or current events as neither had been brought to their attention. Not even local gossip had been of very great importance to them. Suitably chastened and without delay, those two ladies set about improving their minds and mean understanding so as never again to be so ignorant of the world outside of the Greville Estate.

  Fortunately, they realised that their greatest ally in these endeavours was their youngest sister, Sophie, who had never allowed herself to be outside of the local gossip circle; she talked easily and freely to all whom she encountered – the servants, the shopkeepers, her friends in the village, and admitted to openly listening in on the men’s discussions in the library after dinner which kept her abreast of the more worldly events. They rarely noticed her presence beyond the slightly ajar door, and she regularly stole into the library after everyone had gone to bed and chose the texts which she wanted to read; either those she had heard others talking about, or ones that caught her fancy.

  In this way Sophie had, unbeknownst to her older sisters and her parents, been partaking in a very advanced education for a young lady in her position, and it was to her that her sisters sheepishly turned when they realised their social failings.

  As the youngest Greville daughter, Sophie had been an impulsive child and grew to be more so as she grew into her maturity. She had been overly indulged as a child by everyone in the family, being the youngest, and was so charming that no one could deny her anything; she grew up believing that life was for living and enjoying and would rather risk family, or even, public outcry than to miss any enjoyable opportunity that presented itself. She loved to dance and speak outrageous nonsense to male acquaintances, and read just enough to impress in conversations about the latest literary topics and ideas. She rode ferociously, she refused to listen to reason, and she died young because of her insatiable desire to experience ‘unfettered life’ as she called it.

  Mr. and Mrs. Greville eventually gave up trying to reason with or contain her; they had twelve children and took more interest in enjoying their later years than in taming a wild child to conform to society’s expectations.

  “Let her enjoy herself! Let her have fun!” they would exclaim, seeming happy at her exuberance rather than perturbed. “Life will become serious enough, as it does for all children. She does not threaten nor harm anyone – some may be disconcerted by her pert opinions and enthusiastic behaviour perhaps, but what of that? She will become sensible as a matter of course soon enough. Let her be!”

  So Sophie was ‘left to be’ as she wanted, causing much consternation for many, but her parents continued unconcerned, firmly believing that she would eventually settle down after her wildness had been exhausted.

  Fortunately, not all marriageable men were only interested in young ladies with many accomplishments and Catherine was very soon happily successful in securing a husband. Sir Lewis de Bourgh made great pains to be introduced to her through a slight acquaintance with one of her father’s friends; he said to her later that her unpolished air and innocent remarks were what appealed to him in a room full of over-finished and drearily similar young ladies.

  Catherine was grateful for that as she found that she could no more pretend to be an accomplished young lady of society in order to deceive a decent man, than tolerate those exact same activities being exerted everywhere she looked. Her honest and forthright nature refused to allow her to be so underhanded and Sir Lewis spoke many times during their marriage of his relief at having known her exact personality before he married her; any lack of socially-expected accomplishments were never of concern to him.

  Being less accomplished turned out in both Anne’s, as well as Catherine’s favour, as she was also married very prudentially into the Darcy Estate, to a most respectable, honourable, and wealthy man.

  It was perhaps because two of their largely untutored and unsupervised daughters had arranged their marriages so fortuitously that the Greville parents continued to regard with such nonchalance the activities of Sophie; her sisters had managed very well, and so would she when her time came.

  Sophie, however, was not of the same mind as her sisters. She did not have that inbuilt awareness of her behaviour, that necessary insight that warns of the possible consequences of one’s actions. She was a thoughtless and careless person who had for too long been allowed such freedom that she could not control it by herself. She needed guidance and leadership, and she needed limitations to be set for her - none of which she had been given the benefit.

  After Anne and Catherine married and moved into their respective new homes – Pemberley in Derbyshire and Rosings Park in Kent, they were in a position to receive their sister and attempt to refine her behaviour. Sophie was a fr
equent visitor and charmed her way, as usual, around the two households and her two new brothers-in-law. They did not at first see what kind of irresponsible girl she was and enjoyed her enthusiasm and directness, feeling most flattered when their attempts at her education resulted in Sophie’s ability to converse almost as knowledgably with the men around the table. Many eligible young men were invited to dine and enjoy the company of Sophie along with the delights which country living offered, in the hope that one would be strong enough and firm enough in his opinions to see and admire her for herself but also to restrain her from becoming completely uncontrollable.

  The London season came about after the sisters had been married for less than a year and their husbands agreed that they, with both of their household staff, would engage houses in London close enough to each other so that the sisters could be in each other’s company and also oversee Sophie’s behaviour for her official coming out. They relished the opportunity to try to enforce some degree of conformity upon their wayward sister and deeply desired that she should, with as little delay as possible, make a positive impact upon an eligible gentleman in possession of a firm but kind disposition.

  This was their hope as they sallied forth each evening from their elegant homes to spend time at the theatre, plays and dances - a constant whirlwind of entertainments which kept them and Sophie utterly absorbed. Nothing was dull or ordinary and Sophie delighted in the extra attention from so many new admirers; she sparkled and flirted her way through every evening and became an attraction of her own. People, especially young men, were mesmerised by her ability to converse, laugh at the latest jokes, adding a satirical twist of her own, and to make them feel as though they were the most interesting man in the room, until she left to pay attention to another.

  Her attendance to ‘at homes’ was also much in demand but only because the ladies who issued the invitations wanted to have the opportunity to regale their friends with anecdotes from her visit and not through any desire to become friends with Sophie; she was far too much of a male attraction for her to be any firm friend with a lady, especially if that lady were also looking for a husband.

  Many of the ladies tried to reduce her influence where they could once they realised that she was unable to perform at the pianoforte; they made show of being retiring about their abilities and insisted that Sophie should have the pleasure of performing before them. Sophie, nor her sisters, felt distressed by these attempts; Anne and Catherine certainly did not have anything for which to explain or apologise being already happily established as married women, and Sophie ignored any requests or hints for her to show her talents, or lack thereof, by laughing and insisting in a most delightfully playful tone that the lady requesting should take her place at the piano stool where everyone at the assembly might be able to enjoy her talents. Her own talents she always dismissed flippantly as ‘meagre’ and ‘very ill’ and not something which she would ever force upon the general populace.

  After several weeks of this social round, Anne and Mr. Darcy decided that they must return to Pemberley; in truth, the social whirl of London was too much for them both as they loved the solitude and peace surrounding the estate far more than meaningless chatter and endless rounds of visiting the same people. Anne left the care of Sophie to Catherine and her husband, confident that Catherine was, in any event, much stricter in her control and expectations of their sister than she ever would be.

  Catherine felt this responsibility severely becoming even more vigilant regarding Sophie’s behaviour, and through this closer scrutiny, gradually became aware of a young gentleman, of whom she knew nothing, who appeared by Sophie’s side regularly and seemed to be a favourite of hers, as much as any one man could be. Catherine decided that she would embarrass herself in the name of her sisterly duty and enquire about this acquaintance.

  The conversation came about as they were dressing to attend an evening at the opera. Catherine entered Sophie’s room just as she was finishing her toilette, smiling at the result in her mirror.

  “Ah, Sophie! I see that you are ready for the evening’s entertainment. How becoming you look in your new silk and beads! I should imagine that you will, once again, be the object of attention tonight. Perhaps the object of attention for one person in particular?”

  “Of whom are you talking, Catherine? I am sure that I have not the slightest idea to what you are alluding.”

  “Oh, come now, Sophie! Do not play the innocent with me. It may work with your admirers and Anne but it will not with me. I mean the young, as yet unnamed, gentleman who has managed to be at your side every day and night this week; at the Park, in the coffee houses, and last night at the Barkers’ dinner party. What, pray, is this gentleman’s name and what are his connections? You surely must know the answers from the amount of time you have spent in his company; if you do not, then I shall advise Sir Lewis to intervene on your behalf and inform the gentleman, if that is what he is, that his behaviour is causing you offence and must desist immediately.”

  “For goodness’ sake, Catherine! Why must you always be so domineering? I swear that since you became a lady you have become more imperious than ever and it does you no favours, of that I can assure you.”

  She paused and decided to allow a little knowledge of the gentleman.

  “His name is William Collins and he is a man of the law, currently employed at the Inns of Court and considers he has good prospects in that profession if he can impress his superiors sufficiently. He is clever and charming and enjoys life to the utmost; he agrees with me on everything – politics, fashion, literature - we talk constantly every time we meet.”

  “ But who introduced you? They must have some idea of his character at least.”

  Sophie had the grace to squirm a little as she tried to allay her sister’s fears but knew then and there that she could not.

  “He was not formally introduced to me – I think that very outmoded for these times, especially in London where so many people and their different manners converge. I first accidentally bumped into him in the entrance to the playhouse; he smiled, apologised, even though I had trodden upon his foot rather hard in my attempt to right myself, tipped his hat most handsomely and excused himself. Thereafter, I saw him the next day as we took a turn about the Park where he smiled and raised his hat – do you remember, Catherine? - you were there and did not think to interrogate me then. Then he spoke a few words at the card party at the Mason’s home. The acquaintance has been so gradual that I cannot say that I felt the need to enquire about his connections; we managed the introduction ourselves quite admirably, I think, without resorting to mutual acquaintances.”

  Sophie looked at her sister who stood glaring at her as she revealed all of this. Catherine was obviously horrified by her sister’s mode of making acquaintances and could contain her anger no longer.

  “He is a lawyer, then, is he? Or does he merely hope to become one? Who are his friends and connections, Sophie? What is his family? You must satisfy me on this at least. He could be any one: a destitute opportunist looking for an advantageous match with a wealthy family. What are his intentions towards you? Has this been discussed already or are you still waiting for this to occur? How would he support a wife and family if he is not settled in his profession, such as it is?

  “I am most alarmed, Sophie. You cannot conduct yourself in such a manner when your future and the name of the Greville family is at stake. You must take some responsibility in your life and realise that this is not a game. Although you have been allowed far too much freedom in the past by our parents, and I feel that I can lay everything to do with your current behaviour firmly at their door, I am here to impress upon you that everything that you do affects the whole family, not to mention that of my husband and of Anne’s husband. I will not allow you to bring disrepute upon any of us if it is within my power.”

  Catherine was so horrified at the situation she already had decided that Sophie must be removed from London society without further delay, t
hat her husband would have to play the role of her father and investigate the young man in question and decide upon the merits, if, in fact, there were any to be had, of the alliance, and the whole matter decided once and for all. Although Sophie only admitted to knowing this man for a week or two, the fact that she had managed it with raising so little concern in herself and Anne who were supposed to be chaperoning her activities and meetings, caused Catherine more than a little horror and shock at her lack of observation.

  Sophie grew visibly upset as her sister bombarded her with questions that, in truth, she had no idea of how to answer. Her response, as always when being condemned for her independent behaviour, was to attack right back.

  “No, he is not a lawyer, yet. I have told you that he hopes to become one as soon as may be practicable. I do not know of his family, it is true, but his character is clearly a reflection of them and their influences. He appears to know many of the same people as we do here; how else would he be invited into the same social circles and their activities? And if he does not seem to be wholly related or attached in some way to them, I do not regard it as a cause for any concern; many of the people with whom we socialise here are really too dull and he has been the only relief from that boredom.

  “Really, Catherine, you are so outdated in your attitudes; how can my interest and innocent friendship with a young and very charming man be cause for such an outburst? He has not announced any sort of intentions but I believe that is only because of his current circumstances and not from any lack of feeling on his part. I should be happy to accept him if he were to ask me.”

  Sophie stopped to draw breath and also because she became aware of her sister’s mounting anger which, she knew of old, was cold, calculating and to be feared. Catherine was the only member of her family of whom she was rather in awe; her sister was not a woman to be opposed and had the ability to rule with a rod of iron when she chose to. Catherine had a very clear idea of what was right and wrong and had no scruple in educating those who could benefit from her clarity of purpose.