Chapter II

F oremost among Elizabeth's plans the day after the Bennet family's arrival was that of learning as much as she could of the place in which she found herself. Her habits long known to her family as they were, she knew it would be no surprise if they arose that morning to find her absent. As such, when she awoke to the sounds of birdsong outside her window, she wasted no time in rising to meet the day and departing the house for the glories of nature.

? As she had noted the day before, the country was akin to what she was accustomed, yet as she had long walked the paths near the parsonage at home, the differences were readily apparent. Elizabeth did not concern herself with such things, content to revel in the glories of nature that were, after all, pleasing and restful no matter where one went.

? Elizabeth did not stray far from the house, mindful as she was of her unfamiliarity with her new home. That did not mean what she saw did not satisfy her, for the sights before her were no less than enchanting. Elizabeth was certain she would come to love Longbourn with ease.

? When Elizabeth returned home, her family greeted her as they went in to break their fast. Whatever deficiency Longbourn had suffered under the previous master, the man had not stinted in employing an excellent cook, for their fare that morning was of superior quality. For some time, they concentrated on their breakfast, only the most banal of conversation passing between them. Then, when they had sated their hunger, they sat back with cups of tea in hand, speaking of the day to come.

? "I must look through Longbourn's books," said her father. He favored his daughters with a wide smile and added: "I know you must all be eager to redecorate our home, but we will not know what we may do until we understand something of our finances."

? "Do you know what Mr. Collins left to his relations?" asked Elizabeth.

? Mr. Bennet paused in thought. "I do not, for the only information I received concerned my particular portion of it." With a shake of his head, he mused: "To own the truth, I was astonished that he left the estate to me at all, for I had no expectation of it, even after the death of his son many years ago."

? Interested, Elizabeth regarded him. "We were all surprised, Papa. Were there not some other relations to whom Mr. Collins could bequeath the estate?"

? "I know little of his family," replied Mr. Bennet. "At one time the Collins family was prominent and owned land in Norfolk. Their ownership of the land has not persisted, though I cannot say I know anything of their downfall. What I can say is there is another man bearing the name of Collins, and while I am aware of his position as a parson, I know nothing further of him. Then, of course, there is the Philips branch of the family."

? The Bennet sisters were all familiar with the name Philips, for their grandfather had spoken of them at some length. Solicitors of some note in Meryton, Elizabeth expected they would come across them at some point. While their grandfather had spoken of their traitorous nature and his suspicion that they had influenced events that had led to his disinheritance, in truth they knew little more of them than that. Perhaps Mr. Bennet knew more than he had told them, but if he did, he had not seen fit to inform his daughters.

? "Mr. Philips is not the solicitor who informed you of the terms of the will?" asked Elizabeth.

? Mr. Bennet, who had settled in some thought, responded with a moue of distaste. "No, for that, Mr. Collins engaged a solicitor in Stevenage. I suspect he did not trust Philips to execute the terms of the will, for I doubt he wished to see Bennets at Longbourn again. I believe I shall inquire after that solicitor, for I will not use Philips."

? The sisters nodded and changed the subject.

? "Then we shall make an inventory of the house," said Jane. "If there are items that are no longer needed, we may either dispose of them or donate them to the poor."

? "We can also investigate the rooms and determine what needs to be done to refresh them," said Elizabeth. "When you know something more of our finances, we can determine our priorities and proceed from there."

? "And we must not forget the tenants," interjected Mary. "It will be our responsibility to care for them, so we must introduce ourselves at once."

? "That is true, Mary," said Mr. Bennet with a distinct fondness for his youngest. "It is a task I must also take on myself, for I am certain the tenants must be concerned, given the change in ownership of the estate. I must also visit the parson, which I shall do today before I look over Longbourn's books."

? With that, the family separated to their various tasks, the sisters taking themselves upstairs in the company of Mrs. Hill, pencil and paper in hand as they embarked on their task, that of making Longbourn into a home. Unsurprising, as Elizabeth had mentioned the possibility when speaking earlier, there was not a room in the house, with the exception of the study, that did not require extensive remodeling. While they had seen this all the previous day during their tour, their inspections were more thorough, as they entered rooms, inventoried items, examined wallpaper and furnishings, and judged everything they found to decide if it fit into their lives.

? "What an ugly vase!" exclaimed Elizabeth as they made their way through the upstairs hall.

? The piece in question sat hidden away in a nook at the top of the stairs, designed to display some favorite items of significance to the family. The print was a riotous mix of colors of no discernable pattern, a piece Elizabeth did not think any self-respecting artisan would own to have created. Drawn by her exclamation, her sisters gathered nearby, each regarding the vase with equal disgust.

? "Was Mr. Collins that uncaring of the décor of his home?" asked Elizabeth of Mrs. Hill.

? The woman, who all the sisters were already beginning to regard as a treasure, seemed to sense Elizabeth's good humor. "That vase has been there since I came to Longbourn, Miss. To my knowledge, Mr. Collins never concerned himself with such things, even to ensure they remained intact or received regular cleaning. Had I been of an idle disposition, I could have neglected the house enough for everything to accumulate an inch of dust!"

? "I can see that," murmured Jane.

? "Then this will go on the list of items of which to dispose," said Elizabeth, pointing at the vase.

? In this manner, they made their way through the upper level and the chambers contained within, and from thence to downstairs, where they inspected the sitting-room, the small family parlor at the back of the house, the dining-room, spoke with Mr. Bennet for a time in his study and even familiarized themselves with the kitchen and the servants' quarters. After they completed this, they took themselves to the sitting-room with a pot of tea, where they discussed and debated what they had discovered.

? "The state of this place would appall Mama," sighed Elizabeth as she held the papers in her hand, idly leafing through the notes they had accumulated. "Even though Papa's income as a parson was a fraction of what he will now receive from Longbourn, she ensured the parsonage was warm and inviting to any guests we hosted. This place would be a stain on her sensibilities."

? "She would not have stood for it," said Mary. "Plans to refresh the entire house would even now be making their way through her mind."

? Elizabeth smiled at Mary and turned her attention back to their discoveries. "I suppose we must develop a plan for Papa to consider. Then when he knows something of our resources, we may proceed."

? The rest of the morning and afternoon they spent debating what must be done, proposing solutions and fashions, accepting this or rejecting that. The three sisters possessed disparate personalities and tastes, but as they all had known something of their mother's preferences, they compromised in ways they thought their mother would approve. In this way, they worked out a rough plan of what must be done, though as yet they had no notion of the costs involved.

? "The sitting-room must come first," said Elizabeth as they debated priorities. "The décor in our bedchambers we may endure for the moment, but the sitting-room is where we will receive visitors. It will be difficult to make a good impression with this."

? As she spoke, Elizabeth waved her hand at the room, at the dull and peeling wallpaper, the frayed and worried cushions on the furniture. The window coverings were passable from what she could see, such that they could endure them longer than the rest of the room. Almost everything within she knew they must dispose of, for there was nothing of worth left in it, and it had likely been out of fashion for fifty years.

? "When our possessions arrive from the north," said Jane, "they can replace some of what we see here."

? "I am eager to place Mama's prized trinkets on display," added Mary. "For she is as much a part of us now as when she lived among us."

? Elizabeth nodded and smiled at Mary, wishing yet again that their mother had not suffered a premature demise. "Then, once that is complete, I suggest we return our attention to the dining-room, and perhaps a few refreshments in the vestibule and other areas of the house that might come to a visitor's notice."

? "Do you suppose we shall be entertaining at all times?" teased Mary. "Why, we know no one in the district yet!"

? "I hope we shall make many friends," said Jane quietly.

? "And so, we shall," said Elizabeth, fixing her younger sister with a feigned glare. "I cannot but suppose the people of the district will be curious to make our acquaintance."

? "Yes, you must be correct," said Mary. "If you will excuse my saying so, I hope we can change the wallpaper in my room before long. While I can endure the furnishings, the paper is hideous."

? Elizabeth laughed and put an arm around her younger sister. "That, Mary, appears to be an affliction common to just about every room in this house. If you wish it, I am certain we may put the paper high on your list."

? "When is John to arrive with our possessions?" asked Jane.

? "I do not think Papa mentioned it," replied Elizabeth. "Surely he will come before long, for he was to depart Nottingham two days after we left."

? Jane nodded. "Having those items will make Longbourn begin to feel like our home."

? Elizabeth agreed and turned back to their discussions. While the renovations they contemplated were extensive, she knew their possessions would account for much of what they must change. A chair in Mr. Bennet's study, for example, gave an alarming creak when used, and an inspection had revealed that one leg was loose, even though it had looked sound at a cursory glance. While they might repair it, among their possessions was a pair of chairs Mr. Bennet had used in his study in the parsonage. Those would almost certainly replace the chairs left by Mr. Collins, which appeared dated, even if they had been sound. The bed linens, blankets, and other such items would make their rooms much more welcoming, which would free some of the better linens for the spare bedrooms.

? "It appears we have something of a plan," said Jane sometime later.

? "Aye, that we do," agreed Elizabeth. "Now, I believe we should go to the back lawn and investigate what we can there." She grinned at Jane, the horticulturalist among the sisters, and continued: "Perhaps we may even find the remains of a rose garden that you may care for."

? "Trust you to wish to go out again, Lizzy," said Mary, affection brimming in her voice.

? "In this," said Jane, "I must agree with our sister, for I suspect we must do much to reclaim the gardens. As it is already spring, we must be about it soon or wait until next year."

? Thus in agreement, the sisters trooped out of the room, gathered their outerwear, and proceeded to the back lawn.

With a sigh of frustration, Bennet closed the ledger and set it on the desk, massaging his temples to ease the persistent ache that had developed the longer he had peered at the infernal book. From what Bennet knew of Mr. Thaddeus Collins, he had not been an especially learned man, but he had also not been deficient. The scribblings Bennet had uncovered in the ledgers had been as a child of five had written them.

? Bennet stared out the window, noting his daughters were walking behind the house, inspecting the neglect there. For a time, he watched them, feeling again the wonder that often came upon him as he considered the great blessing of having three such beautiful women in his life. What he would do without them, he could not say, for they were the light of his life. They were also of an age where they might marry and leave to start families of their own.

? Shying away from that thought, Bennet considered what he might do once they were gone. While he had never thought of marrying again after his dear wife passed away, Bennet was now of two minds on the subject. While he might leave the estate to one of his daughters, now that he was a landed gentleman, the notion of fathering a son appealed to him. Where he might find a wife, he could not say, nor was he decided on the matter. A wife and several more children to keep him occupied when his elder daughters left his home would bring the blessings in his life to full circle.

? With a sigh, Bennet pushed such thoughts away to consider at another time, instead turning his attention back to the heavy book that still sat on his desk. The ledger was a disaster, such that Bennet could not make any sense of it. While it appeared the estate was as prosperous as his father had always claimed, his initial investigation revealed little more than disjointed and disorganized entries, more than a few errors in the sums, and many of the entries made little sense.

? Bennet made a mental note to speak to the steward about the books to see if he could shine some light on the estate's finances. Then he put the matter to the side, intent upon taking a break and seeing to some other matters of the estate. Foremost among these concerns was his visit to the parsonage to introduce himself to the incumbent of the living attached to Longbourn.

? The church was not large, not so extensive as the parish church over which Bennet had presided himself these past twenty years. It was in good condition, the parson a man whose care for his stewardship was marked in everything Bennet could see. Some gentlemen resented the fields set aside for the support of those shepherds of the flocks of the Church of England, and Bennet well understood the benefits to his situation should that money flow into his coffers rather than that of his parson. Yet having lived that life himself, Bennet could no more regret it than he could regret his daughters, for the rectors of the church did much good in the parishes of the land.

? The parson was an elderly man who must be nearing the age of seventy if he was a day. His name was Smith, he possessed a soft voice, melodious and easy on the senses when he stood before a congregation, or Bennet was no judge of the matter. He was also a good man—Bennet recognized this within a few moments of sitting down to speak with him.

? "It is good to welcome a new master to Longbourn," said Mr. Smith after they had spoken for a few moments. "Mr. Collins appointed me many years ago, but he has taken little interest in the parish since his son passed away."

? "Was his passing because of an illness?" asked Bennet, curious despite all that lay between them.

? "An accident," replied Mr. Smith. "The younger Collins was an active man and a bit of a daredevil. He had several friends like him in temperament, and they would often race each other in curricles. Unfortunately, he lost control over his curricle during one of these races and perished from his injuries when it overturned."

? Bennet shook his head, saying a brief prayer for the deceased. Bennet had the actions of a careless man to thank for his current possession of his family's legacy, and he could not but regret a life wasted.

? "Mrs. Collins declined apace after her son's passing," continued Mr. Smith, "such that she joined him in death only a year later. Those events changed Mr. Collins forever, for he was not a solitary man before."

? "And when did this happen?" asked Bennet.

? The parson stroked his chin in thought. "It must be nigh onto thirty years ago, Mr. Bennet."

? Bennet nodded but did not pursue the subject. There was no reason to discuss it with the parson, for he would not know the truth behind the mystery of Mr. Collins leaving the property to him. Instead, he turned his attention to the parish, inquiring into it, though careful not to give the man the impression he intended to meddle in his business. Mr. Smith sensed this and voiced his approval.

? "I thank you for your confidence, Mr. Bennet," said the parson after Bennet commented to this effect. "Tales of other parsons inheriting estates and believing they knew better than the man tasked with overseeing the parish abound."

? "I shall be more than occupied learning how to manage my lands," replied Bennet. "As I am a newcomer, it is best to leave the parish in your capable hands."

? Mr. Smith nodded. "I shall do my best. If I might impose upon you, however, might I ask if you have some relation in mind to take my place?" The man smiled and added: "As I am now eight and sixty and have held this position for over forty years, I am feeling the effects of my years of service."

? "As my family is small, there is no one for whom I must provide," replied Bennet. "But that does not mean that I cannot take thought to appoint a new parson if you wish to retire."

? "That would be heavenly, Mr. Bennet," said Mr. Smith. "My dear wife has expressed a wish to spend the remaining years of our lives with our eldest son, who is also a parson in Cambridge. I will, of course, remain until you are ready to replace me."

? "Very well," said Mr. Bennet, rising and grasping the other man's hand. "You deserve your retirement, sir. I shall consider the matter and inform you of my decision. It may yet take some time, as I must learn what is required to become the master of the estate in truth as in name, but I shall appoint a replacement when I can."

? "Thank you, sir. I believe the estate will be in good hands."

? That evening, the day's events sped through Bennet's mind as he sat down to dinner with his daughters. Replacing the parson was no small matter, for the choice of the proper man to oversee the parish was of some consequence. Not all parsons were equal, such that a wrong choice could have disastrous consequences for those who relied upon him to choose well. His family having been small for generations, Bennet did not even know if he possessed relations further back than his grandfather; he suspected any Bennets bearing the name would be even more distant relations, for his grandfather, as his father, had been an only child. Perhaps he could approach his friends to ask for recommendations. Failing that, he might write to the seminary for a list of candidates.

? "How was your visit with the parson, Papa?" asked Elizabeth, drawing Bennet's attention from his thoughts.

"Excellent," replied Bennet. "Mr. Smith has served well."

? For a time, they discussed what Bennet had learned of the parish. It was a small parish, comprising Longbourn, Netherfield, and a few of the other estates and villages in the neighborhood—Meryton was in another parish and boasted a larger church building in the town. Then Bennet turned the subject to the ladies' doings that day.

? "Much needs to be done to make this place a home," said Mary. "The décor is outdated and much of the furniture is in need of replacement." Mary turned a sly look to Elizabeth and continued: "And Elizabeth has taken offense to a particular vase in a nook above stairs."

? "I believe, dear Mary," said Elizabeth rather primly, "that we all deplored its ugliness."

? "I know the one of which you speak," said Bennet. "If they put it in the top of a lighthouse, its garish colors would no doubt render the need for an actual light moot."

? His daughters laughed at his jest.

? "It is not the only one, Papa," said Elizabeth. "Mr. Collins's tastes tended toward ugly, for there is much of unsightliness to be found in this house."

? "It is nothing more than a distinct style," said Jane, ever the optimist. "When Mrs. Collins planned the décor, her visitors may have found it pleasing to the eye."

? "Mrs. Collins perished thirty years ago," said Bennet, thinking of his discussion with the parson. "Not long after her son's demise."

? "Mr. Collins took no thought for updating," said Elizabeth.

? "Being a lone man in a manor house, even one as modest as Longbourn, I suspect his needs were few." Bennet shook his head. "Or perhaps he was a heedless man. The ledgers are in a deplorable state, such that I cannot imagine making heads or tails of them."

? The girls all looked at him with some concern. "Is the estate solvent?"

? "I believe it is," said Bennet, "though I must consult with the bank to learn the truth about our finances. It is only that the entries in the ledgers are so messy and random that they do not make sense. I shall speak to the steward on the morrow to learn if he can shed any light on them."

? Elizabeth shared a glance with her sisters. "Then we should refrain from making any changes for the nonce?"

? Bennet considered it for a moment before fixing them with a pointed glare, feigned as he knew they understood. "Did we not speak about needing to moderate any changes we make?"

? "Yes, Papa!" chorused the girls, much to the amusement of them all.

? "I think we may proceed with a few changes such as wallpaper," said Bennet, relenting to their teasing. "Let us leave the costlier items until I can determine the truth of our situation."

? "Of course, Papa," said Jane, speaking for her sisters.

? Thereafter the girls again settled into their discussions, Bennet content to listen and bask in their presence. With such excellent ladies of taste, he knew it would not be long before they would make the house into a welcoming home.