The Forgotten Sister Read online

  The Forgotten Sister:

  A Sequel to Pride and Prejudice

  By Louise Hathaway 2015

  Copyright Louise Hathaway 2015

  Smashwords Edition 2015

  14th of October 1840

  Dear Reader: My name is Mary Bennet. You may have heard of me. I appeared in a novel called Pride and Prejudice in which Miss Jane Austen revealed some skeletons in my family’s closet. She was tough on us: my mother took it especially hard: she did not like the fact that the novel made her look like an empty-headed bundle of nerves whose only goal in life was to get her daughters married. Miss Austen was especially critical of my father: she portrayed him as an aloof man who’d rather spend time alone in his library than be with the rest of his family. “It is only in my library,” he says, “that I get some peace and quiet.” The novel’s depiction of my sister Lydia is the worst: she is presented as a silly and conceited flirt who loves to spend time with the regiment and ends up running off and living with Wickham before they are even married! The entire family was disgraced when the story came out.

  I will admit, however, that Pride and Prejudice captured the true spirits of my two older sisters, Jane and Elizabeth. They are everyone’s favorites: not only are they paragons of virtue, but were also known as “great beauties” in their day. It was very clear that they were my father’s favorites. I love them, but sometimes it has been very difficult to walk in their shadows.

  I am the ugly duckling in the family—the forgotten one. Jane Austen barely talked of me in her novel. I felt as if I was just some stereotypical character at whom the reader could laugh. Why does everyone think Miss Austen is such a good writer when she portrayed my character so one-dimensionally? I’m a lot more complicated than that. In Pride and Prejudice, I’m shown as someone who is constantly reading. I have inherited my father’s love of books. I was hoping that Papa would recognize our common interest and we could talk about his books and discuss what is happening in the wider world. In my younger days, I may not have totally understood what I was reading from my father’s library, but I was making an effort. Miss Austen wrote that I have a “conceited manner” and “neither genius nor taste”. Her depiction of me hurt my feelings.

  My memoir, which I have entitled “The Forgotten Sister” will take you back to the days where Pride and Prejudice left off. I have always been a prolific diarist and have taken great pains to assemble diary entries that most clearly describe some key events of my life. Today is my birthday and I am forty-five years old. This is the story of my life. You may wonder, “Did Mary ever get married?” You will just have to read this memoir to find out.

  Twenty-six years earlier

  15th of January 1814

  The most exciting thing has happened to my family! We are characters in a book! A novelist, who goes by the name, “A Lady Who Published Sense and Sensibility”, has written a story that takes place in Longbourn about a family with five daughters. Could it really be about us? Who is this lady? And why doesn’t she say what her name is? Have we met her before? Did she quietly observe us at a ball or concert, perhaps? Was she somebody’s wallflower cousin or maiden aunt who was brought to a dance in the hopes that the poor soul might finally meet someone willing to marry her? People who’ve read Pride and Prejudice tell us that this author knows all sorts of intimate details about us. How could that be? We are the talk of the town. It is quite thrilling!

  When I heard that there was only a single copy left at the local bookseller’s, I practically ran to collect my coin purse from my bureau drawer. I had been saving money to buy a French bonnet trimmed with a sprig of orange blossoms. The bonnet would have to wait. I wanted to buy the remaining book before the store’s proprietor needed to order more. Since my family heard that I was the last buyer, everyone has been pestering me about whether or not they are mentioned in it and, if so, how are they described? I am excited, too. I can’t wait to see my name in print inside a book that is the talk of the town!

  The first time I am mentioned in Pride and Prejudice, is in Chapter Three. A friend of Miss Bingley’s describes me as “the most accomplished girl of the neighborhood.” I think I am going to like this novel. I was devouring each word until my younger sister, Lydia, saw me reading it and snatched it right out of my hands; very rudely, I might add. Thank goodness Papa intervened and told her, “Let your sister finish it first. She was the one who walked out in the rain to purchase it.”

  “Thank you, Papa,” I said; surprised that he stuck up for me—for once! Not wanting to be interrupted again, I took the novel out to the garden, so that I could read it unmolested.

  I could not help but laugh when I read about Mama’s machinations when she tried to get my sister Jane and the rich and single Mr. Bingley together. After my poor sister, Jane, caught cold when she was visiting him, my mother insisted that Jane stay at his estate for as long as possible so that Jane could fully recuperate. It was just a cold, for heavens’ sake. Mama acted like Jane had the plague or something life-threatening. Mama can be so transparent. She’s is obsessed with trying to marry us off.

  “The Lady” made me laugh when she described a conversation between my parents in which they discussed Mama’s nerves. The authoress described it thusly:

  Mama said to father, “You have no considerations for my nerves.”

  To which, he replied, “You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these twenty years at least.”

  Very true, papa, I thought. Every time my mama is the least bit anxious, she brings up her nerves. It does get tiresome. “The Lady” writes very good dialogue. Maybe I should consider being a writer myself. Hmm…

  I continued reading with a smile on my face until I came to Chapter Five. That was when I started hating the way I was portrayed. She showed me pontificating about pride and vanity and sounding so foolish. Who is this woman? Did I really say something as vapid as what she wrote? I suppose that I do go overboard when I try to show people what a deep thinker and intellectual I am. I’m a middle child: we always have to shout to be heard.

  Next, she mentions a scene in which I am playing the piano at a dinner party. At least she says that I play “better than most”. Well—finally she says something flattering about me. Then she goes on to ruin all the good will I had been feeling towards her by saying that I played too long and was showing off. Then she says I sunk even lower when I started to play the “Irish airs” that my younger sisters appreciated because it would give them a chance to dance with some officers in attendance. What’s wrong with “Irish airs”? I think “A Lady” is a snob with her nose up in the air.

  I continued reading until I was absolutely mortified when I read the following assault on my character: she penned, “Mary was the only plain one in the family and she worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments.” The novelist goes on to say that I was always impatient for display. What she said next hurts the most: she wrote, “Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner.”

  Well, I never! What a mean thing to say about me! I’ve read enough of this book. Lydia is welcome to it.

  14th of July 1815

  My family and I are visiting Brighton today. My sisters’ husbands stayed behind. Everyone thinks that the fresh sea air will be good for our constitutions. I must admit that it’s nice to get out of Longbourn for a change. It’s so provincial. I am hoping to see what “the real world” is like.

  Whilst there, my sisters got it into their heads that they wanted to rent a bathing machine. I had never seen one of these contraptions and was eager to learn all about them. T
hey are basically large covered wagons attached to a horse who tows people out into several feet of water. Once there, the swimmer undresses inside the machines, puts on her bathing costume, and is lowered into the water by a female attendant. Once in the water, one may swim or hang on to a rope attached to the “machine” while the waves wash over you.

  I had never swum in the ocean. I have dipped my feet into the waves a few times, but this was a first. Once inside the wagon, I found it was small, badly lit, and poorly ventilated. The only light that came in was from small openings placed high up to deter voyeurs. We changed into our bathing costumes and an old hag of a bathing attendant who seemed to have imbibed in the sherry a bit too much assisted us as we boldly dropped into the sea.

  Mama demanded to go first. Once in the water, she screamed, “It’s too cold! I’m going to die of hypothermia! Quick! Somebody get me out of here!”

  Lydia said, “For heaven’s sake, Mama!”

  The attendant helped Mama back up into the covered wagon and wrapped her with a blanket.

  To show everyone that she wasn’t afraid, Lydia jumped into the water with the confidence of Aphrodite riding ashore on an oyster shell. “Come on,” she told us sisters. “The water is fine!”

  The rest of us followed suit. I must admit, I did not care for it. Mama was right: it was too cold! I didn’t stay in the water for very long and asked the attendant to help me up. The old woman thought she’d regale us with her stories. She said that women and men swam miles apart in Brighton. She went on to say that men swam nude.

  Once Lydia heard that, her ears perked up. She asked the hag to lift her out and inquired, “Where exactly do the men swim nude?”

  My sister Jane chastised her saying, “We mustn’t go there. What would people say?!”

  Elizabeth, my other sister, said, “Papa would be appalled.”

  My sister Kitty started coughing and frantically asked to be pulled out of the sea. I’ve been worrying about her. She’s had this cough for a long time. I hope she doesn’t have consumption! I shall demand that Papa have a doctor give the poor girl a thorough checkup the minute we arrive home.

  16th of July 1815

  Our vacation continues. Everyone is excited about going to Bath. We are hoping the mineral water will help Kitty get over her bad cough. Lydia is hoping to meet some men: even though she’s a married woman! She told me, “It doesn’t hurt to look.” What an unapologetic flirt she is!

  Bath is a fashionable gathering spot for the gentry. It is a splendid place to assemble and socialize with new people. Travelers from far away come to sample the healing waters. I was impressed to hear all the foreign accents. It was very cosmopolitan!

  Mama was eager to try the waters after she heard that it would calm the nerves. She’s been going on and on about how she fears she has hypothermia ever since her brief dip in the ocean. She can be quite vexing sometimes.

  We all tried the waters. I was given a cloudy cup of it and wondered if I was making a mistake. Throwing caution to the wind, I at last took a sip. It was the foulest thing I ever tasted. I could barely stand to drink the rest of it, but thought, who knows? Maybe these waters are therapeutic, like everyone claims.

  In the courtyard outside the famous pump rooms, we saw some ancient pipes on the ground that were put there when the Romans were in power centuries ago. It was quite fascinating.

  After we tried the waters, we decided to go to the Royal Crescent. It was where everybody likes to stroll and notice what everyone else is wearing. It was very fashionable, I must admit. My sisters and I now have several ideas about what style of dresses we would like to have sewn for us once we get back to Longbourn. We walked by the Marlborough Building and took in the air. It was a fabulous place to walk around and the day was very fine, with nary a cloud in the sky.

  18th of July 1815

  It is with a heavy heart that I write what has been happening. My dear, dear sister Kitty has taken a turn for the worse and had to be hospitalized. Our fears were confirmed: the poor girl does have consumption. At the moment, she has a high fever and is delirious. We are praying she recover, and my dear Papa has not left her bedside.

  19th of July 1815

  The worst has happened: our dear Kitty passed away early this morning!! I can barely put pen to paper. I am crying as I write this. She was such a sweet and precious girl. Lydia is completely distraught because they were practically inseparable. She feels like Kitty was the only one who understood her. She says that Jane and Elizabeth were very alike on one side; and she and Kitty were alike on the other. They definitely shared a love for officers in the regiment. Kitty’s life has been tragically cut short. The poor thing will never have a chance to marry and have children. It is too painful to continue writing. My heart is shattered into a thousand little pieces.

  23rd of July 1815

  My family’s tragedies continue to mount. My dear Papa has joined Kitty in heaven!! The physicians at the hospital say that Papa caught consumption from Kitty because he was constantly at her side, holding her hand, and wiping her fevered brow throughout her travails. They say that if any of the rest of my family show symptoms, we may all have to be put in a sanatorium.

  To say that Mama is inconsolable is an understatement. She is constantly looking up to the heavens and saying, “Why? Lord, why? Are you going to strike dead all of us?” She fears that she will succumb to nervous exhaustion. “My nerves can’t take it anymore!” is her constant refrain.

  Our physician says that we need a regimen of rest and good nutrition. Darcy insisted that we have a second housekeeper to cook and care for us. He told us that there is an excellent sanatorium in Switzerland for patients who have consumption where they can get plentiful amounts of high altitude, fresh air, and good nutrition. Both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley would spare no expense to ensure that their beloved wives got the very best treatment possible. We are tremendously grateful for them. I am glad that my brothers-in-law didn’t accompany us on our holiday to Brighton and Bath, lest they may have caught consumption, too.

  1st of September 1815

  Dear reader: you will be very surprised to learn that Mama and I are now permanent residents at Pemberley with Elizabeth and Darcy!! After Papa and Kitty departed this world, my Mama was constantly experiencing one crisis after another with her nerves and told everybody that she could no longer be responsible for maintaining a household. She insisted that she live with either Elizabeth or Jane. She brought up the fact that they both have rich husbands who own beautiful estates which have plenty of empty bedrooms where Mama and I could take residence. It was either Pemberley or Netherfield. Mama preferred Pemberley since it is much grander. She added the fact that Mr. Darcy had “ten thousand a year” and could afford our expenses easier than Mr. Bingley could.

  Upon hearing that we are welcome to live at Pemberley for as long as we’d like, she is quite content now. It has somewhat soothed her grief over the loss of dear Papa and Kitty.

  Mama and I began packing our belongings for the move with great anticipation. We knew we would not have to bring any of our furniture with us, since ours would look hideously shabby amidst the antiques, chandeliers, and paintings by old masters at Mr. Darcy’s estate. Our furniture was auctioned off and with the money we earned, Mama and I ordered a whole new wardrobe so that we would blend into the grandeur of the estate and not look out of place amongst the high society guests who often come to stay there.

  We kept some family heirlooms that remind us of our dearly departed. I must say that it is a relief to be out of the house in which I grew up: I felt it was haunted by the ghosts of Kitty and my Papa. Mama feels the same way I do. I believe that this is the first time we have ever agreed on anything. Mama says that it is time to start a whole new chapter in our lives. I could not agree more. It felt stifling in Longbourn and the little village of Meryton. It’s time to broaden our horizons.

  We boarded our barouche and began our journey to Pemberley. The estate where my brother-in-la
w lives is nestled amongst an expansive park land. The gardens have beautiful water features, one of which is known as The Cascade and Cascade House. Atop a hill in the garden, The Cascade House looks like a baroque temple. Below it, water flows down twenty-four steps, each slightly different from the other, with a variety of textures, so that when the water runs down, each step creates a different sound.

  Another water feature on the property that I love is the Emperor Fountain. It was built to impress the Tsar of Russia. It is the worlds’ highest fountain with a geyser that shoots water up to an amazing height. The men who designed these features must have been geniuses.

  There are gardens devoted to rhododendrons and camellias which have won awards. I heard that the lily pads in the pond are so large and strong that a young girl could stand on them and not sink. Imagine that!

  As we approached the house, the setting sun was hitting the window frames that were highlighted with gold leaf. We both let out a gasp upon seeing the sight before our eyes. It looked like the entire house was positively glowing. The magnificent mansion was reflected in a small lake that lies in front of it.

  Mama exclaimed, “Mary, did you ever imagine that you would be living in such an opulent house someday?”

  I replied, “Never in a million years would I have scarcely fathomed it.”

  As our coach pulled up to the house, Elizabeth came out the front door to greet us. She said, “I’ve been watching for you all day. How was your journey?”