Chapter 1: The Arrival
1260 Words
Chapter 1: The ArrivalIt is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Or preferably six.
However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters. In the Fussbudget household of Longbore, with six girls in need of marrying off, the odds were certainly in their favour.
“My dear Mr Fussbudget,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that Netherbum Park is let at last?”
Mr Fussbudget replied that he had not.
“But it is,” returned she; “for Mrs Moneygrubber has just been here, and she told me all about it.”
Mr Fussbudget made no answer, consumed as he was with setting his newest acquisition, a golden filigree shoe buckle among its many fellows in his golden shoe buckle collection.
“Do not you want to know who has taken it?” cried his wife impatiently.
“You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.”
This was invitation enough.
“Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs Exposition says that Netherbum is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a gold-plated chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it that he agreed with Mr Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, or at the least Mardis Gras.”
“What is his name?”
“Wentworth.”
Their niece, Fanny Anne, jumped at this exchange, but the Fussbudget couple were too settled into their usual routine to notice.
“Is he married or single?”
“Oh! single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. I hear his wealth derived from luxury hotels in the West Indies built entirely of bananas. What a fine thing for our girls!”
“How so? how can it affect them? Are they monkeys? Or will they be visiting these hotels with the makings for coconut upside down cake?”
“My dear Mr Fussbudget,” replied his wife, “how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them. Just think of it!” Netherbum boasted fifty or eighty bedrooms, in comparison with their penurious eight, and thus would be quite an acquisition. “My dear, you must indeed go and see Captain Wentworth when he comes into the neighbourhood.”
“It is more than I engage for, I assure you.”
“But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. They have no fortunes of their own, and no relative has been obliging enough to die suddenly and leave them one. Sir William and Lady Moneygrubber are determined to go, merely to get their own brood married off on the spot. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him, if you do not. Mrs Notapenny next door also has five daughters who will also be setting their caps for the gentleman. Oh how I wish they would marry that family of five nearly penniless brothers who so coincidentally lives down the lane.”
“What, all of them?”
“Oh, you know they’re so evenly matched.” There were other young people in the village, but those who were married were of course of no consequence and might visit as much as they pleased. In fact, all of Marrytown was remarkable for its lack of children and average folk, with only quality young people, their foible-filled parents, and a few near-invisible servants in residence. Her daughters’ lack of any female friends was quite proper, as all other young women were merely competition in the only game that mattered.
Mrs Fussbudget sat heavily on the sofa to punctuate her point, so heavily in fact that all of the embroidered cushions and antimacassars six stifled young women can produce leapt in all directions. “If you do not go visit him, I will have to contrive an acquaintance by having our girls throw themselves in front of his carriage.”
“You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Captain Wentworth will be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying which ever he chooses of the girls; though I must throw in a good word for my precious Dilemma. She’s the eldest, after all, and so excellent around the house.”
“I desire you will do no such thing. Dilemma is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as our sweet, flighty Marianne Catherine, nor half so good humoured and expressive as Lydia Louisa. And then there’s our other daughter, er, how-d’you-call-her.” For the fourth daughter of the family, Jane Harriet, was quite forgettable in her quiet amiability. The third daughter, Scary, was also conspicuously skipped. “But you are always giving Dilemma the preference. Besides, she will say she’s not looking for a match for herself, only those she can bring about in others.” This last had long been a source of vexation.
“They have none of them much to recommend them,” replied he; “they are all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Dilemma has something more of quickness than her sisters. As soon as she sees a person, she knows at once all their business and all she might do to arrange their lives more agreeably.” Finishing with the shoe buckle, he moved on to his collection of antique suspender clips, which likewise needed polishing. “And you know the young gentlemen usually will find and court the silliest lady with the deepest bonnet in all of town. Best have the girls sew on additional ruffles and otherwise fret no more.”
“Mr Fussbudget, how can you abuse your own children in such way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion on my poor nerves.”
“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.” He began assiduously polishing the nearest clip, as if to remind his wife of his own consuming interests over those decades.
“Ah! you do not know what I suffer.”
“But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four thousand a year come into the neighbourhood.”
“It will be no use to us if twenty such should come, since you will not visit them.”
“Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty I will visit them all.”
Mr Fussbudget was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, occasional ill-planned bouts of juggling, and obsession with trifles, that the experience of three and twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, random descents into pantomime, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her daughters married; its solace was visiting and news. She considered her husband a madman, for his obsession with his frivolous collections and his utter indifference to the demands of family life. And he in turn resolved to blow her brains out the next time she described her nervous complaints in detail.
Fanny Anne, who had been a most attentive listener to the whole, left the room, to seek the comfort of cool air for her flushed cheeks; and as she walked along a favourite grove of horse chestnuts, enjoying the gentle patter of the squirrels hurling them at her, said, with a gentle sigh, “A few months more, and he, perhaps, may be walking here.”
- Writer
