Rosings

Rosings

3 April 1812 Gracechurch Street

My Dearest Jane,

What a fascinating letter. I am all agog at your fortune. To have dined at Rosings itself would be quite enough to satisfy anyone for a lifetime’s entertainments, although as father says, perhaps a little goes a long way. Your descriptions of the inhabitants leave me insatiably curious.

For example, was Lady Catherine really as shocked as you say to learn all our sisters are out, or have you embellished for entertainment value? Or that we had five daughters without a governess? Does she have no idea of how society works in small market towns? You told me yourself Hunsford is like Meryton, and she advises everyone in the village how to live in the minutest detail, so can she expect the youngest to wait until the eldest are married? I would not even be out under that regimen, and I must say attaining my majority still with my hair down would not suit at all.

I hate to say it, but is Lady Catherine mad, or just a nosy old busybody? Frankly, she sounds like she would enjoy our mother’s company, since they appear to be two peas in a pod. Although come to think of it, after seeing Kitty and Lydia’s behaviour at that infamous ball, perhaps a governess might not have been such a terrible idea after all. Who would have thought Lady Catherine could be so wise?

Your description of Miss de Bourgh must be the most uncharitable words you have ever written, Miss Jane Bennet, and I am shocked indeed. I agree that a pale sickly creature seems an appropriate wife for Mr Darcy; but did you really write that she has little conversation and no talent? Are you to be so hard on one of our own sex? Have you surreptitiously replaced Jane Bennet with a meaner sister? Actually, that question answers itself since I am still here. If you are to adopt your sister’s ways, I really would recommend Mary over myself.

It does my heart good to know Mr Darcy is engaged to such a creature, but I imagine they will content themselves with the immense size of their combined estates. There, you can see that you are in no way qualified to take the mantle of the most unpleasant Bennet sister, so you must return to your normal serene countenance. I insist!

I must say that your description of the park does leave me with pangs of jealousy. I have explored every park within walking distance of Uncle Gardiner’s house, and I am quite fatigued with them. You simply add insult to injury with your assertion that you do not care for walking the lanes any more than you did in Hertfordshire. For shame! I almost wish I were there. The only way I can still my heart from its pangs of jealousy is to picture the face of our cousin, and as our mother always says, ‘that should do the trick.’

Your moderately jealous sister, Elizabeth