Live And Learn

By Caroline

Jump to new as of July 20, 2000

Chapter 1

Posted on Monday, 3 January 2000

My sisters and I remembered that winter as the coldest of our childhood. The winters were, of course, always cold in Concord, but a temporary poverty had settled upon us ever since the war broke out, and coal and lamp oil were scarce. It seemed even colder and more desolate that year because Father was not with us. Christmas did not seem like Christmas that year without him, but somehow our family, the Bennet family, created our own warmth and happiness. There were four of us children. Jane Margaret, my older sister, was the voice of reason in our home. She was the most beautiful and the most temperate in nature. People said that Jane would be our saving grace if she married well. I tried to model myself after Jane, but my horrible temper seemed always to get the best of me. Lydia Amy was the baby of the family. She was flighty and impetuous, but Marmee always said she would grow out of it. In those days she was also quite vain and spent a great deal more time worrying about the shape of her nose, than anything else. Katherine Mary, or Kitty as we called her was the second youngest. She was very quiet and shy, but she played the piano very well. We had all learned, but she was the only one who was any good at all, so she kept it up. She was or small spring of calm and Tranquillity and we all thanked her for that, bless her heart. And me, I'm the second oldest, Elizabeth Josephine, but everyone called me Lizzy. They said that my name was too long anyway, and when Kitty was born, all she could say was Lizzy and it stuck. People called me a tomboy, which of course I was, and no matter how hard I tried not to be quite so rough and wild, it was always in vain.

"Christmas just isn't Christmas without any presents!" I fretted. As well as we tried to deal with our situation, it really was dreadful to be poor.

"We did all agree not to give presents this year. Still, I am in desperate need of a new frock" Jane sighed.

"It was Marmee's idea, I know the reason is a good one, but without Papa and presents, I won't be able to tell it apart from all the other days in December!" I pouted.

"It's perfectly dreadful to have no money at all" Lydia whined. "I haven't seen butter or sugar for months."

"But at least we still have each other, and Papa and Marmee. Some people don't even have that. We must all be thankful for that, and Lizzy, even yesterday you said that you fancied our family happier than the Brookes, for all their money and luxury." Kitty said quietly from the corner by the fire.

"And so we are - we maybe have to work all the time but were as happy as the lot of them. I dare say more - for Caroline Brooke always seems to go about with a sour expression."

"But she has 10,000 dollars for her dowry and she's having her debut in the spring" Lydia pouted. "Oh, how I would love to have a debut..."

"You're too young for a debut - you wouldn't know what to do with one if you got it" I said.

"I would so know what to do! I would dance with all the handsome gentlemen and drink Champagne and have a wonderful time!"

"Who'd dance with you?" I laughed.

"Enough! There isn't going to be a debut, so there's no point in discussing it. Besides, even if there was enough money for one, which there isn't, Papa and Marmee don't believe in such things."

"Marmee!!" Kitty exclaimed when she saw our mother walking up the path. "Marmee's home!!"

Marmee came inside and we all rushed down to hug her.

"Oh, Marmee we've been waiting for you for hours!" Lydia screeched.

"Marmee you're so cold!" Jane grabbed her hands and rubbed them to make her warmer.

"Yes! The lines for the post office were freezing. Mmm, your face is warm Lizzy." She reached out to touch my face. "So, Kitty how's your cold, hmm?"

"Better." Kitty smiled quietly.

We all sat down around Marmee's chair and listened to her talk about the Christmas rally and her news of the war. No one noticed that Lydia was fishing around in Marmee's basket.

"Well, Miss Liddy. What have you found there?" Marmee said with a smile.

"A letter...from Papa!" She screamed.

"Oh, Liddy! Read it to us!" Jane said excitedly.

"Here goes...'My Dearest Family, I am well and safe.'" Here we all gave a sigh of relief. "'My battalion is encamped at the banks of the P...pt...potmac...'"

"Potomac." Marmee corrected. Lydia repeated after Marmee and continued.

"'It is very cold here and it always seems to be snowing, but we seem to be holding up well enough, now if only I could get rid of my horrible cough! What I wouldn't give for some of Hill's tonic right about now.' Ewww! Imagine wanting Hill's tonic - It's so completely vile!" Lydia scrunched up her nose.

"Lydia!"

"'I love you all and I can't wait to come home and be with you again. Love always and forever, Papa.'" We all paused for a moment to enjoy the contents of the letter. Because of the war, letters from Papa were few and far between, and we relished every one of them.

"Now," Marmee said. "We must all work very hard so that when Papa comes back home he will find four very grown up ladies where he left but girls," she finished.

"I will try to make others more cheerful - so that we may get past this trying time."

"Oh, Jane you do that already! Where would we be without you..." Kitty broke off into a cough. "I will be more helpful - it seems you are always doing things for me!"

"And I will try to act more like a lady" I pronounced. "But I'm not promising anything."

"That's the spirit, Lizzy! All that your Papa and I ask is that you try your best" said Marmee. "And what about you, Lydia? What will you work on?"

"I will try very hard not to be so vain. I know I am, but I just can't help it" Lydia frowned.

Chapter 1 (Continued)

Posted on Thursday, 6 January 2000

That morning we were awakened by delicious smelling breakfast and little surprises under our pillows. Marmee had made each of us a beautiful brocade covered book of the Psalms. Mine was red, Kitty's was ivory, Jane's was light blue, and Lydia's was green, and we decided to read a little of them every day, although for my part, the pleasures of writing my own book would inevitably take over any time I might set aside for reading. We thundered down the stairs in pursuit of the breakfast, all except Jane - she could never thunder anywhere. Then we saw it. It was beautiful, bread and butter, oranges, ham, cream, and every good thing! We almost could not wait to start eating and then we saw Marmee. She smiled, but we could tell that something had upset her.

"What is it Marmee?" asked Jane.

"I have been to the Schmitt's home this evening. They have a newborn baby and six other children that they cannot feed. I must ask you something, can you, in the true spirit of Christmas, give the Schmitts your breakfast?" she said solemnly.

"Oh, Marmee! Those poor children, of course we will!" Jane said, her voice full of pity.

"Oh! But the cream! Must we give them all of it?" Lydia wailed.

"Lydia, remember what we were discussing last night? What would Papa want you to do?"

Lydia took the pitcher of cream and looked at it sorrowfully. We bundled up the rest of the breakfast to take it over to the Schmitt's home, and in this small act, we all felt infinitely happier, even though our stomachs were empty.

Chapter 2

We had always known about the house next door. It was very grand and belonged to a man named George Darcy. We used to make up stories about damsels in distress locked up in the highest towers and valiant princes going to rescue them and fighting off the fire-breathing dragons that held them captive, but we had never met anyone in that house. It stood as a place of mystery to us and we were constantly looking at it through our attic windows and imagining that the inhabitants were up to.

When word came round that Old Mr. Darcy's grandson was coming from Europe to stay with his grandfather, we had cause for even more excitement. We had heard that he came from Italy where we had heard he had been raised by artists and vagrants of the most sensational kind and we were most eager to hear more of him.

A few days before New Year's, Jane and I received an invitation to a New Year's Eve ball at the Lucas' house. The Lucases were known for their great parties and so we went, in our finest gowns, which were only taffetas, as much as Jane might wish for a silk. My burgundy dress had a great burn in the back of it from an iron, so Jane told me to take care and stand by the wall whenever I could. We got to the party and the room was beautifully decorated. All the ladies and gentlemen looked so fine in their evening dress and so, since I decided not to dance I could sit on a chair and watch the ball contentedly. Jane seemed to be enjoying herself immensely and I was happy for her and pleased with watching until I observed two gentlemen standing next to me. One of them seemed very cheerful and I noticed that he had danced with Jane several times. The other one seemed very cross and out of spirits, but I must admit he was very handsome. Now I must tell you that the way I am going to describe this particular gentleman is merely how I saw and felt about him at the time. As I got to know him better, my opinion of him improved considerably. In fact, he was quite mortified at my writing any of this down at all. Please do not pass judgment on him based on this first meeting, as I did. Anyway, as I was saying...Oh dear, how very unprofessional of me to run away with myself in such a fashion! Please, my dear readers forgive me! The two gentlemen were talking just loud enough that I could barely hear what they were saying.

"Come, Darcy, you have not danced a single dance all night! What sort of impression will you make upon Concord's fair populace if you don't even dance at their galas?"

"Charles!" He tried to hush his companion. "I don't know anyone here! I couldn't possibly dance with someone if I haven't even met them!"

"Well, now that I know the problem I know just how to fix it! I shall simply have to introduce you to some pretty young ladies and we'll have you dancing 'til midnight!"

"Charles! No, please...I beg you would not...I simply couldn't..." he stammered.

"I have been dancing with a most agreeable young lady, and I should very much like you to meet her. Her name is Jane Bennet and she is very pleasant indeed. Come, I will introduce you to her sister! You can see her there..." he gestured towards me and I turned quickly to watch the dancers as if it was the most fascinating spectacle I'd ever seen in my life.

"Chaaarrrrlessss..." he hissed. "No! I don't want to be introduced to anyone," he paused. "Especially not her. Please, can we just go somewhere else before she..." and they walked away.

I would be lying indeed if I did not say that I was most incredibly shocked. I could easily understand why he would not want to dance with me, indeed I was definitely not the most handsome girl in the room, but to say such a thing right next to me was not within the realms of polite manners at all (as little as I was acquainted with them myself, I was absolutely sure this was true), and I was deeply embarrassed. I believe my cheeks might have even turned color, but I am not so sure this wasn't done in anger. As I reviewed the conversation further, I began to laugh in spite of myself, and found the whole thing so deliciously funny that I was forced to leave the room in the event that I might snort from withholding my mirth and thereby embarrass my sister with the prospect of a relation who is known for snorting at society functions. As I sat down in another room, I had time to think some more. The only aspect with which I did not now look upon with mirth was that all my high hopes of meeting a sensational, exiting, Italian gentleman had been tossed completely out the window. Up until now, I had been so preoccupied with my thoughts that the fact that I was not, in fact, alone in the room had completely escaped my notice.

"Ahem..." I heard quietly uttered, and I spun around to come face to face with the source of it. Imagine my surprise at finding the very object of my thoughts standing right in front of me.

"Oh, please excuse me, I didn't know there was anyone in here." Silently cursing myself for putting on my Sunday manners for this man who had so abominably abused me not minutes before.

"It's all right, It's a good...hrem...hiding place." He said. He seemed curiously flustered.

"Oh, I'm not hiding. In fact, I was just leaving, good evening, sir." And I started to leave the room.

"Good evening, Miss Bennet." I tried to look straight ahead and keep walking to keep myself from laughing, when I saw Jane sitting outside the room in tears.

"Oh Jane! What happened?" I asked as I flew to her side.

"I fear young Mr. Collins stepped on my gown which caused me to fall and twist my ankle." She said.

"Is it hurt very bad?" asked Mr. Darcy who had followed me out.

"No, I think it's only mildly sprained, thank you." She said congenially.

"My carriage is here, may I offer you ladies a ride home?"

"You don't think it would be too much trouble for you?"

"No, thank you, we don't..." Jane and I started at the same time. I gave her a very pointed look, and shook my head a little.

"No, it would be my pleasure," Mr. Darcy smiled.

I was incredibly cautious of our spontaneous benefactor, and when we returned home Jane reproached me, "You were very impolite to Mr. Darcy, Lizzy. He was only being kind in offering us a ride."

"Humph!" I said.

"Well, you needn't have seemed so ungrateful to him."

"Oh Jane! Oh Lizzy! Did you have a wonderful time at the ball? What was it like? Who was there? Who brought you home, it was simply the most enormous carriage? Oh Marmee! Did you see the simply humungous carriage that brought Jane and Lizzy home? Oh, Jane what has happened to your foot?" Lydia exclaimed all in one breath as we entered the door.

"Jane, what is wrong, here come sit down. Help Lizzy get Jane to the chair, Lydia." Marmee said as she prepared to set Jane's foot.

"Mr. Darcy drove us home, or rather his grandson," I grumbled. "Although I rather wish it was the old man instead." I added under my breath, but Lydia heard me.

"Oh, what a thing to say, Lizzy! Was he very handsome, Jane, did he carry you? Oh, was it very romantic?"

"Romantic? Hah! Romantic my..."

"Lizzy!" Marmee admonished me.

"Oh, I think I shall faint! Some girls get all the luck, Jane, everything good always happens to you!"

"Oh, Yes!" Jane laughed.

At night, my imagination would come alive and my head would fill itself with stories of daring knights and damsels in distress and friends that grew ever dearer to me with every word I lay down about them on the page. Marmee would constantly tell me not to stay up so late, but I simply could not content myself with my dreams if I wasn't writing them all down. My stories got longer and longer as I could not bear to part with them by finishing them. The Pickwick Society (which I shall explain later) was regaled during every meeting with my reading dramatically of another installment.

That night, my experiences that evening somehow found their way into my stories, and although I did embellish them a little, I was not at all displeased by the way they turned out.

Chapter 3

Posted on Wednesday, 19 July 2000

After we had met the famous young Mr. Darcy, we were, of course, invited to the great house next door. I seemed the acquaintance would be a tedious one, because the grandfather hardly spoke at all and the grandson even less. Old Mr. Darcy did, however, take a great liking to Kitty (Who doesn't upon their first hearing a note out of the piano from her?), and offered the use of his Concert Grand Piano to practice on whenever she wished. We were all of course very happy for her, but the visit proved most distressing for me. As you might already be aware, I am uncomfortable in social situations because I am always prevailed upon to be on my best behavior - a task that is not so menial as it appears. Behaving myself is so much easier when Jane is around to model myself on, but luck was not with me that morning because Jane was otherwise engaged.

"Miss. Bennet, I was very disappointed that I was denied the pleasure of dancing with you again at the Lucas's ball, Pray, how is your ankle?"

"It heals very well Mr. Bingley. Thank you for asking, and for your compliments."

"I hope to have the pleasure of dancing with you repeated some time in the future?"

"Certainly, sir!"

Mr. Charles Bingley had come with his friend to spend some time at Pemberley, and also with his cousins the Miss Brookes. He was quite taken with Jane and spent the whole of the visit in rapt conversation with her. So you see, Jane was totally useless in helping me overcome my wild ways enough for one call - I was left to fend for myself. The difficulty of being a lady was made worse by the fact that young Mr. Darcy stared at me throughout the entire visit. Not that I should care what he thinks, I told myself, but to be under such intense scrutiny is unnerving no matter what else, and it served to put me off balance.

I continued to be ill at ease around that particular gentleman until one sunny afternoon, when I got to know him a little better and perhaps, improved my opinion of him.

The woods around our house are very extensive, but as I have explored them since I could walk, I know every lane and trail and grove by heart. It was on one of these 'explorations' that I found myself in a very compromising situation. You see, since I have come of age, I have been forced into wearing these dreadful long, cumbersome skirts, which are not at all helpful when climbing trees. So, when I am sure no one will see, I take off all unnecessary layers of skirts and tuck the remainder in to the waistband as pants. It was in this predicament, underdressed and up a tree that Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy found me.

At first, as he could not find anything to say, he just looked at me. I felt embarrassed and flushed, but grew bolder when I told myself that I didn't care what he, or anyone else thought of me. I did, however, decide to be civil, for the sole purpose of appearing collected.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy!" I yelled from the tree.

"Good afternoon, Miss Bennet."

"'Miss Bennet' makes me sound like Jane, Call me Lizzy!" I yelled while starting down from the tree.

"What??" He had turned around to allow me some privacy while I came down and put my skirts back on.

"I said, call me Lizzy!" I said jumping to the ground.

"Oh..." He said sounding a little less confused. "I thought I heard 'Tickle me dizzy'"

At this I burst out laughing and was thankful that I had finished getting dressed because I fell over into a snow bank. He turned around and could not stifle a laugh.

"How abominably rude!" I laughed. "To laugh at a lady in such a predicament. A true gentleman would..." but before I could finish, he offered me his hand and started to pull me out of the snow. However, fate was not with us that day, because he stepped on a patch of ice, slipped and fell down right next to me headfirst. At first he looked totally mortified, but I think when he saw my face, he had to laugh. I was working very hard to hold in a snort, but after a few moments we both dissolved into giggles and tried to get up again.

"If at first you don't succeed..." He said half under his breath.

"Try, try a...WHOA!" I slipped and fell on the same ice.

"Careful!" He said between laughs. "Slippery there...!"

"Thanks for the warning!" He grabbed my hands and pulled me clear of the ice.

"Well! Now, I'm cold." He said decidedly.

"Yes." I said. There was a pause, and I started off towards home.

"Miss Bennet..." I turned around and he offered his arm to me. "As protection against further ice obstacles."

"I told you! No 'Miss Bennets' around me! Makes me feel respectable and..." I pointed my nose in the air, "well-bred, like Caroline Brooke!"

He rolled his eyes, "Ah yes, Miss Brooke. Well, don't ever think you're anything like her!"

"I don't, and I take that as a compliment of the highest kind!" I giggled and he laughed.

"Shall we?" He offered his arm again.

"Certainly, Mr. Darcy. This way if you please." I said in a very dignified tone of voice and with a very deep curtsey. He bowed to me and we set off together, as jolly as anything, but he stopped abruptly.

"How is it that I get to call you Lizzy, but you call me Mr. Darcy - Mr. Darcy is my grandfather."

"Well, what's your name?" I asked innocently.

"Hrm...Fitzwilliam." He turned red.

"Fitz...Fitzwilliam?" I almost laughed.

"Laugh if you must," he said with an air of mock wounded dignity.

"Well, I can never call you Fitzwilliam!" I said. He looked a little hurt.

"I'll have to shorten it at least - the world is full of Fitzwilliams..." I allowed a small laugh here. "...and Elizabeth Josephines, but think how much time will be saved if you don't have to say the whole name."

"What do you propose, Lizzy Jo?" he said with all sincerity.

"Hmmm...now let me see... William...Will? No - you aren't a 'Will'...Liam?" he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Ok, scratch that...what do your friends call you?"

"Darcy." He said matter-of factly. "or Darce."

"Oh...how about Fitz?"

"Fitz??"

"It suits you already! Well, come on, Fitz!"

And from that point on, whatever else we were, we were friends.

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