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A potential answer to Mrs. Bennet’s question presented himself the very next morning. The apothecary stopped by to enquire as to her health and introduce his new assistant.

“A fine-looking young man indeed,” Mrs. Bennet afterwards pronounced. “Maria was right about his coat being well made. I think his income might be quite substantial.”

It was very likely enough to support a wife, especially one who did not care about jewels and new dresses. And Mary had recently said somethin g about the importance of being useful. Keeping a comfortable home for a hard-working gentlemanly apothecary would suit her exceedingly well.

“Maria was right about him being handsome too,” Kitty said to Lydia.

Mrs. Bennet was astounded to hear such praise. The man wasn’t even an officer! This was excellent.

In the blink of an eye, she swiftly rearranged her plans.

Mary could be the one to marry Mr. Collins.

She would like to be a clergyman’s wife, and that would spare Mrs. Bennet the trouble of having to persuade Kitty, who had such an unreasonable prejudice against the profession.

Instead, she could marry the new apothecary, who appeared to have sufficient income for dresses, bonnets, and a few jewels.

“It occurs to me that it would be a fine thing to have an apothecary in the family,” she tentatively said. “Very useful for—are you all right, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth, who was choking, could not reply.

“Quick, Kitty!” Mrs. Bennet cried. “Run after Mr. Jones and tell him he must attend to Lizzy at once.”

Kitty jumped up, but Elizabeth waved her back. After another cough, she was sufficiently recovered to say that she had just swallowed the wrong way.

“Thank goodness for that,” Mrs. Bennet said. “But it does show the usefulness of having an apothecary at hand.”

“But he wasn’t at hand,” Mary said.

“If you are thinking one of us should marry him, it won’t be me,” Kitty said. “Apothecaries are even more dull than clergymen.”

Sighing with despair, Mrs. Bennet took up the opera glasses to conduct her daily surveillance of the lane.

Perhaps Emily Lucas would like to marry the gentleman whose treatment she had so much appreciated.

Lady Lucas would also like to have an apothecary in the family, and she was more deserving of having a daughter engaged than Mrs. Peacock or Mrs. Crane.

Catching a glimpse of a red coat, Mrs. Bennet said, “I think one of the officers might be coming to call. But not one that I recognize.”

“The new officer!” Kitty cried. She rushed to the window with Lydia upon her heels. But then she said, “That’s not an officer. It’s just Edward Partridge.”

Looking through the glasses again, Mrs. Bennet said “So it is. But why is he wearing a red coat?”

“Perhaps the officers did their laundry on Saturday,” Mr. Bennet said. “It was a bit gusty that morning.”

“You and your jokes about laundry,” Mrs. Bennet grumbled. “I can see now that it’s just an ordinary red coat, not a regimental one.”

“He looks ridiculous in it,” Lydia said.

But Mrs. Bennet was thinking that it would be easier to get Kitty married if more men could at least look like officers even if they weren’t. “I think it looks very well,” she declared. “Such a cheerful colour.”

And now she was struck by the thought that Edward Partridge might be a better marital prospect than she had ever considered.

The uncle, who had paid for his schooling as well as Susan’s, also gave them both generous allowances, and he was intending to establish Edward in the legal profession at his own expense.

Mrs. Partridge had recently spoken of this plan. More than once.

Mrs. Bennet hadn’t paid much attention, but now she wondered what wealth the uncle possessed.

It could be quite substantial, especially since he had no wife.

An unmarried man must be a great saver of money, and it was very likely that Edward would be the main benefactor of his will.

And Kitty had never said anything about disliking solicitors.

“The law is a fine profession, isn’t it?” Mrs. Bennet tentatively said to her.

“I’ve never given it any thought,” she replied.

“It is very dignified,” Mrs. Bennet persisted. “And Edward Partridge has become quite handsome, hasn’t he?”

“No, he hasn’t!” Kitty cried. “I hope you aren’t thinking that I should marry him now.”

Mrs. Bennet said no more. Maybe one of the Miss Longs would like to marry Edward. And hopefully the Brighton plan, which had been too vague to satisfy her, would succeed in producing a husband for Kitty.

Or maybe she would be tempted by the exceedingly good-looking gentleman who had just turned into the drive.

He was accompanied by Mr. Hastings, which gave a clue as to his identity. “The vicar is coming to call upon us,” Mrs. Bennet announced. “And it looks like he has the new curate with him. A very attractive young man. Don’t you think so, Kitty?”

“He looks ordinary to me,” Kitty said.

But Mrs. Bennet was already deep in thought.

Curates might be low people, but they did not always remain so.

Eventually this young man should have a living of his own.

And if his relations took an interest in him, it could be a valuable living.

And Kitty might not be so much opposed to a well-connected clergyman.

“It would be a fine thing to marry into a distinguished family,” she said. “Even a poor branch of it. Mr. Charlton must have some very important relations, and with their influence it is very likely that he will quickly rise to a high position in the church. A bishop perhaps.”

“That means nothing to me. I am going to find a husband in Brighton,” Kitty declared.

“But there is no certainty that you will. I think you ought to consider other prospects.”

“I don’t want to marry a clergyman. Especially not a poor one.”

“This curate won’t always be poor. Bishops have palaces, don’t they, Mr. Bennet?”

“I believe Kitty prefers the call of the drum to the calling of the church,” he said unhelpfully.

But once the curate was sitting in her drawing room, Mrs. Bennet decided that he would not do anyway.

Threadbare clothing and a pair of worn shoes testified to extremity of his poverty, and his humble manner cast a shadow upon her idea of a bishopric.

Mr. Charlton was very much concerned with the well-being of ordinary people, but she could not discover that he had any ambition to rise high in his profession.

This was not the man to convince Kitty that a clergyman could be as dashing as an officer.

But Mr. Charlton might do very well for Maria Lucas, who was too nervous to want to live in a palace.

Or perhaps Charlotte, who was so useful in the kitchen.

A poor man was certain to appreciate her household skills.

And then her sister could have Mr. Bingley’s unsociable friend.

Maria was so mild-mannered that she would not object to a husband who lived in his library and declined his invitations.

But would Charlotte like to be known as Charlotte Charlton?

It was a mouthful, to be sure. However, an awkward name was nothing compared to the prospect of remaining unmarried.

Charlotte had the sense to understand this, which was fortunate for Lady Lucas.

She didn’t have to deal with difficult daughters who had excessively particular notions of marriage.

***

After Mr. Hastings and Mr. Charlton left, there was a general exodus from the morning room.

Deciding that no officers were coming to visit, Kitty and Lydia hurried off to Meryton in search of them.

Mr. Bingley came to take Jane for another drive, Mr. Bennet had some business requiring his attention, and Mary went to practice her music.

Having a book to read, Elizabeth remained. But instead of taking up the opera glasses, her mother was wanting to talk about Mr. Fordyce having been such a disappointment.

After thoroughly abusing the poor man, she said, “But at least Mary is not too much affected. I’m relieved to see that she was not so deeply attached as to be suffering a broken heart. Although I cannot like her choice of music, I am sure she will soon get the vexation out of her system.”

Elizabeth was inclined to think otherwise. It seemed to her that Mary, for all her calmness, was very much affected. But instead of displaying her emotions, she was pouring them into melancholy music. It was evident that the wound ran deep and recovery would be a long time in the making.

But her mother had a different perspective.

Elizabeth was not surprised when Mrs. Bennet said to Mary on the following morning, “I am pleased to see you coping so well with this setback. It was disappointing to be sure, but I think you might soon find happiness with another, even more eligible suitor.”

“I am not going to marry Mr. Collins,” Mary declared. Evidently she had already seen where the wind was blowing.

“But he is just the man to suit you. You did say that you would like to marry a studious person.”

“I don’t have the impression that Mr. Collins is the studious type of clergyman,” Mr. Bennet said.

“Oh. That is unfortunate. But perhaps Mary will like him anyway.”

“I hope that I will like him. As a cousin and a respectable man, he must be agreeable to me, but not in the way of wanting to marry him. Indeed, I have no thoughts of ever marrying.”

“It is quite understandable for you to feel that way at the moment,” Mrs. Bennet said. “But you will think differently once your spirits have fully recovered.”

“I don’t think I will.” With that, Mary excused herself and left the room.

“I suppose it was too soon for her to be thinking of a consolation,” Mrs. Bennet mused aloud. “But fortunately we do not expect Mr. Collins for some time. She will have come around by then.”

“I don’t think she will,” Elizabeth said. “A new suitor is not likely to be her idea of consolation. Mary seems quite firmly set upon not marrying, which may be the best choice for her.”

“First Mr. Madison, and now Mary. You don’t think anyone wants to get married,” Mrs. Bennet cried in exasperation.

“I do,” Lydia said. “I cannot wait to be a married lady with jewels and lots of elegant dresses and all the officers admiring me.”

“Thank goodness someone has some sense,” her mother declared. “You should copy her example, Lizzy.”

Not wanting to cause further strife, Elizabeth held her tongue.

“But it took a great deal of effort,” she later said while informing Jane of this achievement.

“Copy Lydia’s example, indeed! No thank you!

And I probably would have said so if I hadn’t already irritated Mama.

Which I shouldn’t have done, but I felt compelled to speak up on Mary’s behalf.

This is not a time for suggesting new suitors to her.

I wish Mama could understand that. And stop clutching at straws in her desperation to find someone for Kitty.

In addition to driving them mad, she is setting herself up for great disappointment. ”