Page 178 of The Long Road Back to Yesterday

Elizabeth went upstairs with Jane, and they sat beside Aunt Phillips.

A sound from the doorway made them look around.

Lydia stood there with John behind her, barefoot, her hair loose, over her nightdress.

“Please, Lizzy, may I sit with Mamma?”

“You may, but you must be very quiet.”

Lydia went to the bed and lowered herself into the chair beside her aunt.

“Mamma, it is me. I am here.”

Mrs. Bennet did not respond.

Lydia laid her cheek against her mother's hand. “Please, Mamma, wake up. I promise, I will be good.”

Lydia bent over her mother's hand and wept.

Elizabeth left her with Mrs. Phillips and found her father alone in his study, staring into the fire.

“Lydia is with Mamma. I thought it cruel to keep her away.”

“Of course, Lizzy. Whatever punishment Lydia deserves, she should not be denied her mother now.”

Through the long hours that followed, Mrs. Bennet was never left alone. One of her daughters remained at her bedside at all times.

The following two days brought no improvement.

Mr. Jones came each morning and evening. Though their mother breathed, she was unable to swallow water, and she did not move.

By the third morning, a bluish cast had settled over Mrs. Bennet’s skin.

Mr. Jones remained with her for nearly an hour before asking to speak privately with Mr. Bennet. When Mr. Jones left, Mr. Bennet came upstairs and told his daughters they should say farewell to their mother.

Toward evening, Mrs. Bennet’s breathing changed, and Elizabeth summoned her father. The intervals between each breath grew longer. When Mr. Jones arrived, he told them what they already knew. Her end was very near.

Mr. Gardiner had arrived directly from Kent, and Mr. Phillips stood behind his wife as she bent over her sister’s hand, weeping.

Mrs. Bennet drew another shallow breath.

Then another.

And then no more.

For several moments, no one moved.

Lydia stared at her mother. “Why has Mamma stopped breathing?”

Elizabeth went to her, but Lydia pulled away and shook her mother’s hand. “Mamma, wake up. Please wake up.”

Mrs. Phillips caught Lydia and drew her against her. “Your mamma is gone, child. Leave her be.”

Elizabeth went to her father, and he drew her close.

She stood dry-eyed within his embrace, looking down at her mother. It seemed as if it was beginning again. But Papa was alive and holding her, and all four of her sisters were grieving around her.

Whatever had brought Elizabeth back to this moment in time had not restored the life she remembered. The past was not simply repeating itself.