A Match for Mary Bennet by Eucharista Ward Page A

“Otherfield,” chiefly because, she said, it was so much finer than Netherfield. Then Mrs. Bennet, as soon as she was settled in the room near Elizabeth’s, began proposing a regimen of exercises for her daughter. When told that Mr. Darcy seemed rather to recommend almost constant rest, Mrs. Bennet kept right on showing her how to tighten muscles and stretch her arms and legs. Though usually much in awe of Darcy, Mrs. Bennet sniffed. “What do men know?” She hastened to add, “Oh, humour him, of course, when he is present. But otherwise, do all you can to strengthen your back and torso. You will need much strength.” She went on demonstrating, moving Elizabeth’s arms and legs, and urging her to breathe deeply. Elizabeth felt a sense of entering a mother lore that may have come from Mrs. Gardiner—the grandmother she never knew—and she complied readily.
    On the accustomed at-home day when Georgiana received morning callers, Elizabeth asked Mary to assist her. Not knowing exactly what to do, Mary told Georgiana she would sit in a corner and watch her for a while. She soon noticed that many callers seemed familiar to both Georgiana and Mrs. Reynolds, and Mary had her first taste of an at-home day in a fine manor. Soon little knots of guests extended even into her corner, and she became privy to their conversations. A very pretty young matron spoke her unmitigated approval of the absent lady of the house. “I always enjoy calling here, and Miss Darcy is an excellent hostess, but I do miss Mrs. Darcy. I feel so at ease in her presence.”
    The large, rather square lady to whom she spoke could not agree. “Miss Darcy is real gentry and was born to the manor. Mrs. Darcy is from Hertfordshire. She does not know our ways.”
    Mary watched as the lovely lady sipped her tea daintily, and her companion reached out for the scones that had been offered, spilling her own tea into its saucer. Mary turned her attention to the newcomers Georgiana greeted as Mrs. and Miss Langley. She studied their faces to see if she could remember them, hoping to attach names to them should they meet again. For a while she followed them with her eyes as they made way for even later arrivals, took tea, and went off to sit near the fireplace.
    When Mary returned her attention to the two near her, the large lady was complaining of a shoulder ache. “I can hardly extend my arm, you know. I fear the intense pain will cripple me entirely. The surgeon prescribed hot packs, you know, and Katy applies them regularly, three times daily, but to no avail. Soon I fear I must give up the use of my right arm entirely. Even to hold a teacup sends rays of pain through me from elbow to neck.” Her companion made sympathetic sounds and said something about a change of physicians. “Oh no, indeed, Mrs. Jennings. I quite depend on Mr. Williams.” The tray of cakes went round, and as they were offered to the pretty lady, the other reached for one, attaining it before the tray came to her. As she used her right hand, Mary winced for her, but the lady herself seemed hardly discomposed at the motion.
    Mrs. Jennings refused the desserts politely, adding to her companion, “I will wait for the fruit if you please. I try to limit my sweets, Miss Johnstone, which I find make me a bit slow of foot about my work in the garden.”
    Miss Johnstone agreed. “I quite know what you mean. I find myself winded at a mere stroll in the shrubbery. I am ever so careful of what I eat, and yet I notice no improvement. I am sure it is the fault of my constitution. My dear mother was the same. Oh, there is that sour-faced Mrs. Leighton. One should not aspire to be thin if it deprives one of a talent for happiness!”
    Mary again turned her attention elsewhere, admiring Georgiana’s aplomb while conversing with all her guests. She thought Mrs. Reynolds seemed intent on watching the two closest to her, Mrs. Jennings