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"I am sorry, Mama, there simply is not room for you here," Jane said tiredly. What was her mother thinking telling her that she would be joining the Stone household? "You know that Mr. Stone and I have ten children, and only three bedrooms between them." Ten children and another likely on the way. Jane did not have the room, or frankly, the energy, to add Mrs. Bennet to the small Cheapside residence.
"Mother, you have three hundred pounds a year in interest from your settlement. Mr. Lawrence brings in two." While it may have actually been closer to three hundred with the fees from the students her husband took on to supplement what his living brought in per annum, the Lawrence family could not afford to house Mrs. Bennet. They would need to send paying boarders back to their families to open a bedchamber. A bedchamber that Mary was perfectly happy having filled with polite -- if occasionally noisy -- boys instead of a demanding -- and perpetually noisy -- mother. No, Mary refused to take on her mother in addition to the work of the parish. It wasn't as if Mrs. Bennet was in actual need.
"Oh, Mama! It is so exciting! Lt. Rowling has decided we are for Port Elizabeth. The Cape Colony, Mama! The Cape Colony! Is it not exciting?" It was ever so far away according to her husband. It was also an opportunity. An opportunity! Things had been ever so hard for them since Waterloo. Stanley insisted they delay having children until they could afford them. Considering they hardly ever managed to afford tea, Kitty was content with waiting. Kitty was also content with her mother taking her leave moments after discovering there was no tea or sugar to be had. It did not impact her joy a jot. After all, Kitty was convinced that from the tip of Africa, she could cough as much as she pleased without anyone complaining about nerves.
Dearest Mama,
Of course we would have you with us always. Your letter comes at the best of times. Uncle Gardiner has been intolerably mean to my darling Wickie forcing him to work so long and hard to pay back that poultry poetry paltry amount he owed prior to our marriage. Who else but my uncle should pay to have kept Wickie from debtor's prison so that we could marry? It is abombenably abomen monstrously unfair. After all these years my Wickie has tolled talled toiled away in that warehouse with nary a...
...in any case, Wickie is willing to quit Uncle Gardiner's Liverpool warehouse the moment you have taken a house for us all. There is no need for you to come to us. We shall come to you as soon as you send money for our travel. I know you will be happy having your grandsons Little George, Georgio, Geordi, and your granddaughter Georgina to take care of. My sisters will be green with envy knowing the six of us will be so well situated with you and your 300 pounds per annum.
Your devoted dawder dauwter daughter,
Lydia, Mrs. George Wickham
Dear Mama,
You have never complained before about your daughters' marriages. In fact, I do believe you were adamant that the marriages take place regardless of how ill-judged some of them were. Well, now your daughters are all settled.
It is not Jane's fault you insisted she marry a widower. A widower with two children, Mama. A man who so insists on his marital rights that my sister can barely catch her breath from one churching to the next. Is it any wonder there is no room for you in their home? There is barely room for the twelve who live within now, and there is another coming this autumn. You never complained when you were insisting Jane accept the man. It is not fair to Jane that you complain now.
Dear Mary is not at fault either. You did not complain about her desire to marry her parson. No, that is not entirely correct. You did complain. It is only that your complaint was that she did not marry Mr. Collins instead of Mr. Lawrence. Do you remember why that was, Mama? It was because you pushed my repulsive cousin at me. Mary most likely would have accepted Mr. Collins had he asked her. I am, however, extremely grateful you decided to point him my way. I was well capable of refusing, giving our dear Mary the opportunity to find love and a true partner. The Lawrence partnership includes not only the church, but educating other boys to provide income necessary to secure a future for their own two sons. As you never complained when Mary birthed her sons, there is no reason to complain now that the Lawrences are focused on their boys, their school, and their ministry, and have no space to house you.
Madam, I do not know how to convey my disappointment in your complaints of Kitty. She did not offer you tea? Did you not understand that was because Kitty and Lt. Rowling have not the funds to purchase tea? Their income barely allows them to keep the two small rooms they live in. You simply turned up uninvited -- most likely intent on trying to join the Rowling household after you failed with Jane and Mary -- and have the audacity to complain when you are not promptly supplied tea and cake? How dare you complain of Kitty's housekeeping when you never complained before about her marrying an officer barely able to take care of himself, let alone a wife. The colonel and I wish the Rowlings well in Cape Colony. It may be difficult for them at first, but my husband firmly believes they will do well there.
Frankly, Mama, your demand -- I can hardly call it a request -- that Colonel Sir James and I allow you to make yourself at home in our London house is unconscionable. Absolutely not. We forbid it. We have a long-term tenant and my husband has no intention of forcing that family to give up the lease so that you can take over my husband's inheritance. We are abroad for at least another two years. It has yet to be decided if we will accept additional missions or return to England with the children after that time.
Finally, you've never complained about Lydia and Wickham before. I see no reason for you to complain now. She is exactly the same as she has always been, as is Wickham. If you wish to live with a daughter, you have often lamented not being near your dear Lydia. I am sure Jane, Mary, Kitty and I will have no cause to repine if you allow Lydia and her five Georges to make their home with you. Uncle Gardiner would most likely be so relieved to be shot of Wickham that he might be done forcing Wickham to pay back what was put up to force the man into marrying Lydia.
Your daughter,
Elizabeth, Lady Simon