Reborn as 8yo Regency Girl, OP All the Way

Chapter 5 The Fight·The School

While Elara appeared to be gathering flowers, she listened closely to the conversation between the two men. When Mr. Bennet mentioned the charitable boarding school, a quiet joy stirred in her heart.

This was perfect—she wouldn’t have to bring it up herself. It would have been awkward to explain how a sheltered young lady like her knew about such worldly matters; after all, such practical details weren’t written in books.

By late afternoon, as the sun began to set, Mr. Bennet packed up his fishing gear and instructed his manservant to gather their things for the journey home. Elara sat on a clean boulder, weaving a flower crown to give to Mrs. Harrington. She worked carefully, making sure not to get any plant sap on her gown—sap was stubborn to remove, and a stained dress would be unfit for a lady to wear in public.

A gentleman’s daughter could never be seen outdoors in soiled clothing; it was a grievous breach of etiquette. Elara owned only three gowns suitable for public wear in summer, which she paired with different accessories for various occasions. She could never wear the same gown two days in a row—doing so would mark the family as financially strained, a loss of “respectability” they could ill afford.

On their way back, Mr. Harrington spoke up: “Elara, would you be willing to attend a charitable boarding school?”

Elara asked cautiously: “Father, how is it different from an ordinary school?”

“The fees are likely much lower,” he replied, “but many of the students will come from less respectable backgrounds.” Charitable schools typically catered to orphans or children sent by distant relatives, teaching them basic etiquette and practical skills to earn a living. In Mr. Harrington’s eyes, such company was hardly suitable for his daughter—which was why he asked.

Elara thought for a moment before answering: “Father, will I still be able to learn what I need there?”

“Of course,” Mr. Harrington assured her. “Even charitable schools employ teachers who are thoroughly vetted for both talent and virtue.”

“Then I’d be happy to go, Father,” Elara replied without hesitation.

“Very well,” he said. “I’ll speak to your mother about it tonight.”

“Yes, Father.”

When they returned home, Mr. Harrington shared his plan with Mrs. Harrington—but she was immediately opposed.

“Oh, Arthur! How could you let Elara associate with such common people?” she exclaimed. “I’d rather she remain an old maid than rub shoulders with the lower classes!”

Seeing her resistance, Mr. Harrington spoke gently, lowering his voice to persuade her: “But it’s a cost we can bear, and she’ll receive a proper education. Besides, when Maria is old enough, she can attend too. Don’t you want our daughters to have every advantage? And with them at boarding school, you’ll finally get some rest, my dear. You’ve been complaining of back pain—you’re simply overworked.”

His tender words softened her stance. In truth, Mrs. Harrington never truly opposed her husband’s decisions; her protest was merely a token gesture to ease her own guilt. With that, Elara’s enrollment in a boarding school was settled—only the choice of school remained.

Mr. Harrington wrote numerous letters to his friends, seeking recommendations for a reputable institution. Eventually, on a friend’s advice, he settled on Lowood Charity School. The curriculum included English, French, mathematics, discipline, etiquette, religious instruction, physical education, and needlework—everything a young lady needed to learn.

Lowood was quite far from Longbourn, and Mr. Harrington grew anxious. Elara was only eight years old—was she too young to be sent away from her family to study alone?

But Elara had her own reasons for wanting to go. “Dear Father, I promise I’ll be fine,” she said. “I can dress myself, brush my hair, and Mother has taught me simple sewing. That’s more than enough to take care of myself. I want to start my studies as soon as possible so I can return to you sooner.” She did her best to demonstrate her independence—she truly could manage her daily needs without a servant’s help.

Mr. Harrington’s greatest worry was that his young daughter would struggle without someone to attend to her. To ease his concerns, he spent the following weeks observing Elara’s ability to live independently. Mrs. Harrington also took the time to teach her every practical skill she could think of—only to be amazed by how quickly Elara learned. She mastered everything after just one lesson, from dressmaking to mending.

Elara had proven beyond a doubt that she could fend for herself, and Mr. Harrington’s worries finally melted away. He sent a letter to Lowood Charity School, expressing his wish to enroll his daughter and requesting their approval.

The school was delighted at the prospect of admitting a knight’s daughter. They replied promptly, sending an acceptance letter, the school’s address, and detailed directions. An enclosure outlined the tuition fees and required items for enrollment.

As expected, the fees were remarkably affordable—only ten pounds a year. Being a charitable institution, Lowood kept its fees low so that families of modest means could afford it; the school’s main funding came from donations by local gentlemen and wealthy benefactors.

In addition to the ten-pound tuition, Mr. Harrington gave Elara another ten pounds as emergency pocket money. He had initially planned to escort her to the school himself, but Lowood sent a letter to the Longbourn parish priest, requesting that he accompany Elara instead. As an all-girls institution, they did not receive male visitors—except for occasional benefactors making donations.

With everything finalized, Mrs. Harrington set about packing Elara’s luggage. She prepared two wicker trunks: one for her everyday clothes, and the other for two pairs of shoes and a thick winter coat. She’d heard that winters at Lowood were bitterly cold, so warm clothing was essential.

In the days leading up to Elara’s departure, Mrs. Harrington doted on her, giving in to her every wish. While she favored her son Theodore, she did care for her daughters—though, like most parents, her affection was not equally divided.

Longbourn was a small community, so news of Elara’s impending departure for boarding school spread quickly. All the Harringtons’ close neighbors came to bid her farewell.