Page 28 of The Vanished Bennet Sister

Jane was still awake when they returned. There was a book open in her lap and she glanced up from it with an enquiring look.

"How was the play?"

"Very good. Georgiana Darcy was in our box. She is charming, quite genuinely so."

"And her brother?"

"Present also."

"And?"

"He and I discussed the play. We disagreed about a scene and found ourselves in agreement about another. That is the whole of it."

"Was the disagreement resolved?"

"Neither of us conceded, but it ended pleasantly."

"What does it mean," Elizabeth said with a casual air, "if a gentleman consistently seems to be paying you attention?"

"Hm. I think that for you to have noticed the interest so reliably, you must have been paying him a similar degree of notice."

"That is not quite the same:"

"It is, Lizzy. One cannot reliably observe a pattern of attention without leaning rather closely oneself."

"I grant you, I haven’t been as interested in what he does."

Jane pursed her lips and said nothing else, which was considerably more eloquent than anything she might have said.

Elizabeth allowed herself the question of whether she had indeed been too attuned to Mr Darcy and what the answer to that ultimately said about her.

Chapter Twelve

Mary

It occurred to Mary at some point that Elena might be displeased.

She had, after all, declined the proposed meeting. Elena's letters had always been generous, but generosity had its limits, and Mary was aware that months of earnest correspondence followed by hesitation about an actual meeting might produce impatience in a person of less equable temperament.

Yet, Elena’s replies were persistently encouraging and informative. She offered Mary commiserating support regarding the Mr Thwaite and Miss Bingley situation, assuring Mary that she was as unique and interesting as any other young lady, even more so. The regularity of their correspondence had grown, leaving Mary more confident about the strengthened nature of their relationship.

They had each shared more personal disclosures with one another, regarding family, personal opinion and other aspects.

Elena’s latest letter read:

I have been thinking, since your last letter, about something you wrote — that you have always felt slightly outside the natural circle of your family.

You know I have a daughter and two sons. My daughter is the eldest. She has always been the most difficult to know among my children, and I have spent a great deal of time considering whether this difficulty lies within her, within me, or in the nature of the connection itself.

I think it belongs to the connection. The relationship between a mother and a daughter is quite complicated, of all the relationships we are allowed as members of society. We are told it is natural, and uncomplicated, and that any difficulty within it reflects poorly on the daughter. I have never found any of these things to be entirely true. I suspect you have not either.

I ask, because you wrote about your own mother with a restraint that suggested more than it gave away: Do you find that relationship easy?

You need not answer if you would prefer not to. But I remain curious and wish you all the best.

Your friend, Elena

Mary was not accustomed to being asked such a question or personal questions in general. Elena had asked without the social cushioning that most people applied to direct questions as a matter of reflex.