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Fabric was too dear to waste, particularly since they had been required to dye some of their own dresses black, so as many gowns as possible were divided between the sisters, to be remade by their nimble fingers.

Those that were too shabby to be remade, as well as the undergarments, would go to the parish poor-box.

The furniture, lamps, and the like would remain in the room, which would doubtless become another guest room.

Kitty said, hesitantly, “I do not know if I should bring this up…”

“Go on, Kitty,” Jane said. “Mary is right; we must speak up more often.”

“Well, Lydia left clothing, ribbons, and bonnets in our room. What happens to those? Do we save them for her, in case she returns? She would be furious if she found her things gone; you know how she is!”

“Do you want her things for yourself, Kitty?” Jane asked.

Kitty turned red. “I do, a bit, but it seems wrong.”

Mary shook her head firmly. “Kitty cannot be seen wearing Lydia’s things; it would as good as announce to the neighbourhood that we do not expect her to return. Also, we cannot take her things up to the attic; again, it would be difficult to explain.”

“I can at least take back the things she stole from me, though, can I not?” Kitty asked.

Elizabeth could not help smiling at that. “Of course, Kitty. I imagine a good number of her ribbons and bonnets are actually yours.”

“It feels lonely in there without a sister,” Kitty said, sadly.

Suddenly she turned to Mary. “Mary, do you want to move in with me? You have your own room, but it is quite small; this might be better for you. We could put Lydia’s things into your room and simply say that it will be her room when she returns. ”

Mary looked astonished. “Really? Me?”

“Of course you,” Kitty retorted. “Please? I am simply not comfortable in a room by myself!”

Mary could not but agree to this. Having been the overlooked middle sister for so long, Kitty’s offer was impossible to resist. The sisters turned their energies to moving Lydia’s possessions into Mary’s small room, and Mary’s possessions into Lydia’s now-empty wardrobe and drawers.

Elizabeth was grateful for the occupation; it kept her from thinking of Mr. Darcy, from her overwhelming regret, for a few hours, at least.

When the tasks were finished, Elizabeth recalled that she had promised Jane to speak with Mary; when she asked Mary for her company out in the garden, Mary looked at her sister for a long minute.

“Why, what is the matter, Mary?” Elizabeth was puzzled at her sister’s unhappy expression.

“You have never asked me to walk with you before and Kitty never desired my company before. Evidently, all it took was Lydia’s disgrace and Mama’s death for me to be valued by my sisters.”

“Such a bitter tone, Mary!” Elizabeth was shocked.

“Bitter is how I feel, Lizzy.”

“Well, will you walk with me or will you not?”

“I will; such novelty should not be disregarded. Let me fetch my bonnet.”

Out in the fragrant garden, sitting on a shaded bench, Elizabeth turned to Mary. “Well?”

“You will have to be more specific.”

“The sister I returned to is not the sister I left; I wondered if she might speak to me about the change,” Elizabeth said, gently.

“Oh, I should be happy to do so, Lizzy. All my life, I have been ignored, overlooked, forgotten; I was the plain sister, the invisible one, the one who would doubtless stay behind to take care of my parents when the others had married and left the house. Did you say something, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth gulped. “No. No, please go on.”

“And then my oh-so-superior sisters, the ones who were so much better than me, so much more valued than I, upended our quiet lives entirely. Lydia fusses and fusses to be allowed to go to Brighton and permission is given simply so that the house would be quieter, when anyone with a modicum of common sense would have known that to be a mistake.”

“I tried to talk Papa out of it,” Elizabeth offered.

“As did I, and he told me to leave the room before the words were out of my mouth. Then it turned out that Kitty knew of the planned elopement and said nothing whatever to anyone! The silly fool thought it romantic, never imagining that it would impact her own future.”

“Kitty is full young,” Elizabeth said, feebly.

“And here you are, making excuses for her! Were you that foolish at her age? No; nor was I. And you, you , Lizzy! Why did you not tell Papa what you knew of Mr. Wickham?”

“Think you he would have listened?” Elizabeth fired back.

“Is that going to be your excuse, Lizzy? That he would not have listened in any case?”

“I was protecting a friend’s secret,” she protested.

“And that friend, whoever he or she may be, was more important than your family?”

“Of course not! But I never imagined that Mr. Wickham would have had anything to do with Lydia; she has nothing to tempt him.”

“Nothing?” Mary snorted, eyebrows raised.

Elizabeth blushed heavily and averted her eyes.

“Yes, there is that, right? Her innocence!” Mary’s bitterness was almost more than Elizabeth could bear. “Think you I do not know something of men? I am invisible, wherever I go, and I hear a good deal more than anyone knows.”

“Mary, I am – I am so sorry.” Elizabeth felt tears forming in her eyes. They dripped slowly down her cheeks. “I have no excuse for how you have been treated by all of us.”

“Can you understand my fury, Lizzy, that my so-perfect sisters have put our family’s reputation into terrible danger, and I – I, who have done nothing! – will have to share in that disgrace? Jane, of course, I hold innocent in all of this; she has had no part in this catastrophe.”

“I can understand, Mary. Of course I can. And,” she added quietly. “I can also understand that you have many years of quietly concealed anger giving strength to your fury.”

“Yes.” The rage seemed to have disappeared, leaving Mary’s face bleak and sorrowful. “Yes, and perhaps I was wrong to conceal my anger all these many years.”

“No; we were wrong not to value you as you deserve.”

“In any case, my days of remaining silent are over.”

“As they should be, Mary; your family needs your wisdom.”