Reborn as 8yo Regency Girl, OP All the Way

Chapter 4 Education·The Charity School

At lunch, Mr. Harrington brought up Elara’s request to Mrs. Harrington.

Mrs. Harrington’s face fell. Hiring a governess or sending Elara to boarding school would cost a fortune. “I can teach you everything you need to know, dear,” she said, then turned to Elara with a soft tone. “Would you really want to leave your father and me for a boarding school?”

“But Mother, I don’t want you to work so hard,” Elara replied, repeating the words she’d rehearsed. “And I’m not as pretty as Jane. If I want to ease Theodore’s burden someday, I must learn more—cultivate noble virtues and exceptional talents.” She’d anticipated her mother’s reluctance; education was a costly investment, and she’d crafted her argument carefully.

By mentioning Theodore, Elara let her unspoken meaning hang in the air. A plain young lady with little dowry needed something extraordinary to attract a wealthy, respectable husband—either remarkable skills or a generous fortune. Since the Harringtons couldn’t provide the latter, talent was her only hope. If Elara remained unmarried, she’d have to depend on Theodore, burdening her brother and making the Harringtons the laughingstock of Longbourn.

Mrs. Harrington sighed. “But we can’t afford a governess or boarding school.” The family’s annual income was barely six to seven hundred pounds. After covering expenses, they saved only a hundred pounds a year. With two daughters to provide for, they needed roughly two thousand pounds for dowries—plus Mrs. Harrington’s own thousand-pound dowry, which she’d preserved as a nest egg, living off the interest. At this rate, it would take ten years to save enough for both girls’ dowries, not to mention Theodore’s future education and the costs of the children’s coming-out seasons. There simply was no money left for school.

Mr. Harrington frowned, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the table as he weighed the options. Elara ate her dry, sour bread in silence, giving them time to consider.

Finally, he said, “I’ll think on it further.” He drained his soup bowl. Having once served as mayor, he was a man of some foresight and understood the value of education for women. He was already tempted—but the cost remained a stubborn obstacle.

After lunch, Mr. Harrington planned to take a walk. Elara spoke up: “Father, may I come with you? I haven’t been outside in ages. Are the flowers blooming yet?”

“They’re in full bloom,” he replied.

Mrs. Harrington interjected: “Elara, you must change into something more proper and fetch your bonnet. A lady never goes out without her bonnet.”

“Yes, Mother,” Elara agreed. “Father, wait just a moment—I’ll be quick.” She darted up the stairs to change.

“Elara, mind your deportment!” Mrs. Harrington called after her. “A lady does not run.”

“It’s quite all right, my dear,” Mr. Harrington said. “She’s still a child—hardly a breach of etiquette.” He settled onto the sofa to wait.

Elara opened her walnut wardrobe and pulled out a cotton blue checkered gown, trimmed with a ruffle of white lace at the hem and a large bow at the chest. She slipped it on over a petticoat, grateful that at her age, she was spared the discomfort of corsets and whalebone hoops—walking in those would be sheer torment. She paired the gown with a straw bonnet adorned with lace and fabric flowers. A proper lady’s wardrobe required at least one straw bonnet for summer and a heavier woolen one for winter, often trimmed with satin, ribbons, flowers, lace, or even a veil.

Once dressed, Elara checked her reflection in the drawing-room mirror to ensure everything was in order. “Father, I’m ready,” she said, descending the stairs.

Mr. Harrington nodded approvingly. “Shall we bring your flower basket? I suspect you’ll want to gather some wildflowers to brighten the house.”

“I was just thinking the same thing!” Elara smiled, fetching her basket before linking her arm through his as they stepped outside.

Watching them go, Mrs. Harrington turned to Ruth. “Such lovely weather—I wish I could walk too, but there’s so much work to be done. Come, Ruth, let’s take down the upstairs curtains. With this fine weather, we can wash and dry them today.”

Ruth nodded and set to work, clearing the dishes efficiently, washing them, then heading upstairs to strip the curtains from their rods. Mrs. Harrington lifted Theodore into her arms, teaching him his letters as she supervised.

As Mr. Harrington and Elara walked through the fields, tenant farmers tipped their hats in greeting. Mr. Harrington responded with polite but distant nods. In his eyes, tenant farmers were cunning and greedy—show them the slightest kindness, and they’d take advantage, shortchanging their rent. Moreover, as a gentleman, he believed in maintaining social distance; fraternizing with the poor was simply not done.

Elara glanced at the wildflowers along the path, but none were suitable for arranging in a vase. She plucked two small blooms and tucked them into her collar.

They walked for some time until they reached a stream, where a profusion of wildflowers grew—daisies, lilies of the valley, irises, and more. Unripe wild berries hung from the bushes; Elara made a mental note to return and pick them when they were ripe, to make jam.

There, they spotted Mr. Bennet fishing. Mr. Harrington approached to greet him, and the conversation soon turned to Elara’s wish to attend school.

“If you’re considering boarding school,” Mr. Bennet said, “you might look into charitable schools. The fees are much more reasonable.”

“You’ve researched this?” Mr. Harrington asked.

“I have two daughters of my own—I’ve given their education plenty of thought,” Mr. Bennet replied. “I’ve weighed the merits of boarding school versus a governess.”

“Your daughters are close in age and both girls—a single governess would suffice. That’s the more economical choice for you, as three or four years of lessons would be enough. But Elara and Maria are so far apart in age; hiring a governess for so many years would be prohibitively expensive. It simply isn’t worth it,” Mr. Harrington explained.

He made a mental note of the charitable school Mr. Bennet had mentioned, resolving to write to his friends for more information once he returned home.