Chapter 37 — Teaching Companion

What it asks It asks the student to set two kinds of amusement in the chapter side by side. At dinner: “Elizabeth could not see Lady Catherine without recollecting that, had she chosen it, she might by this time have been presented to her as her future niece; nor could she think, without a smile, of what her Ladyship’s indignation would have been. “What would she have said? how would she have behaved?” were the questions with which she amused herself.” On her walks she judges her father: “Her father, contented with laughing at them, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters”. Here “indignation” means anger at something felt as an insult, “contented with” means satisfied with and doing no more, and “exert himself” means make an effort. The student decides whether Elizabeth’s private smile is the habit she blames in her father, or a different thing. The card does not say that Lady Catherine knows of the proposal; Elizabeth only imagines her reaction.

One reading

The same habit. Faced with folly she will not or cannot change, Elizabeth turns it into private entertainment, as her father does. She amuses herself with Lady Catherine as he amuses himself with Kitty and Lydia. On this reading the daughter shares the fault she blames in him, and her verdict on him is one she could turn on herself.

• were the questions with which she amused herself
• contented with laughing at them

Another reading

Not the same. Lady Catherine is no one Elizabeth has to look after, and her smile costs nobody anything. Her father laughs at his own daughters, whom it is his place to restrain, and his laughter takes the place of acting. On this reading the fault is not in laughing but in laughing where you are the one who should act, and Elizabeth’s charge against him stands.

• nor could she think, without a smile, of what her Ladyship’s indignation would have been
• would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters

Listen for

• Notices that Elizabeth’s amusement stays in her own head: the questions are ones “with which she amused herself”.
• Asks whom each one laughs at, and whose job it is to act.
• Weighs whether a habit Elizabeth shares makes her a better judge of her father or a worse one.
• Does not say that Lady Catherine knows of the proposal.

If stuck

• What makes Elizabeth smile at dinner?
• What does Elizabeth say her father does instead of restraining her youngest sisters?
• Is laughing at someone you are not responsible for different from laughing at someone you are?

A strong answer A strong response finds what the two kinds of laughter share and where they part. One reader hears the same habit: faced with folly, Elizabeth amuses herself, as her father is “contented with laughing” at his youngest daughters. Another hears a real difference: her smile is at a woman she is not responsible for, while his laughter stands in for the effort a father owes his own daughters. The best answers ask what that difference does to her judgment of him, and whether someone who shares a habit judges it better or worse. That bears on the last written question, where her father’s part in Jane’s loss has to be weighed.

What it asks It asks the student to test Lady Catherine’s offhand rule against what the chapter shows of Mr. Bennet. Pressing Elizabeth to stay, Lady Catherine says, “Mrs. Bennet could certainly spare you for another fortnight.” Elizabeth answers, “But my father cannot. He wrote last week to hurry my return.” Lady Catherine replies, “Oh, your father, of course, may spare you, if your mother can. Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father.” On her walks Elizabeth judges that “Her father, contented with laughing at them, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters”. Here “consequence” in Austen’s sense means importance or standing, not a result; “exert himself” means make an effort; and “giddiness” means silly, flighty behaviour. The student decides whether the chapter proves Lady Catherine wrong, or right in a way she did not mean.

One reading

Wrong. Elizabeth is the proof. Her father wants her home, and wrote to hurry her return. When Lady Catherine says her mother could spare her, his letter is Elizabeth’s answer. On this reading Lady Catherine has made up a rule on the spot, as she made up a reason for Elizabeth’s low spirits just before, and Elizabeth knows her own father better.

• But my father cannot. He wrote last week to hurry my return.
• immediately accounting for it herself

Another reading

Right, in a way she did not mean. By Elizabeth’s own account two of his daughters do not matter to him enough to be stopped. He laughs at them and will not make the effort to restrain them, and his wife’s indulgence fills the gap. On this reading he wants Elizabeth home, and the daughters who most need a father are left to their mother.

• contented with laughing at them, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters
• while they were supported by their mother’s indulgence, what chance could there be of improvement?

Listen for

• Uses Elizabeth’s answer, “He wrote last week to hurry my return,” as evidence about her father.
• Sets Lady Catherine’s rule beside Elizabeth’s charge that he is “contented with laughing” at his youngest daughters.
• Keeps the charge exact: he laughs instead of acting, which is not the same as not caring.
• Notices that Lady Catherine makes the rule up as she goes, as she accounts for Elizabeth’s low spirits herself.

If stuck

• Why does Elizabeth say she cannot stay longer?
• On her walks, what does Elizabeth say her father does about her two youngest sisters?
• Can a father care about one daughter and still fail another?

A strong answer A strong response tests the rule against both pictures of Mr. Bennet that the chapter gives. One reader finds Lady Catherine plainly wrong: he wrote to hurry Elizabeth home, and his letter is her answer when Lady Catherine says her mother could spare her. Another finds her nearer the truth than she knows: by Elizabeth’s own account he will “never exert himself” for his youngest daughters, and laughs instead. The best answers keep the charge exact, that he laughs instead of acting, and carry it to the last written question, where his part in Jane’s loss has to be weighed beside Darcy’s.

What it asks It asks the student to weigh a phrase that seems to cancel itself. At Rosings, Lady Catherine’s questions need attention, “which Elizabeth believed to be lucky for her; or, with a mind so occupied, she might have forgotten where she was. Reflection must be reserved for solitary hours: whenever she was alone, she gave way to it as the greatest relief; and not a day went by without a solitary walk, in which she might indulge in all the delight of unpleasant recollections.” Here “reflection” means careful thought about the past, “solitary” means alone, and “indulge in” means allow oneself something pleasant, often more than is good. The same root comes back a paragraph later in her mother’s “indulgence” of the youngest girls. The student decides what kind of delight this is, and whether the narrator means it.

One reading

Real relief. All week she must sit through talk of servants and horses with her mind full. To be alone at last and think honestly is “the greatest relief”, even when the thoughts hurt. On this reading the delight is the delight of facing the truth after keeping it hidden, and the narrator means it kindly.

• she gave way to it as the greatest relief
• with a mind so occupied, she might have forgotten where she was

Another reading

A gentle joke at her expense. “Indulge” is a word for treats, and the narrator gives her a daily one: a walk to go over what hurts. There is a pleasure in self-reproach, and in judging, that can feed itself. On this reading the narrator smiles at her, and the reader may wonder whether verdicts reached on such walks are steady ones.

• not a day went by without a solitary walk
• indulge in all the delight of unpleasant recollections

Listen for

• Hears that “delight” and “unpleasant” are set side by side on purpose.
• Notices “indulge” here and her mother’s “indulgence” a paragraph later.
• Does not stop at saying she is sad, which the chapter states; asks what the walks do to her judgment.

If stuck

• Why is it lucky for her that Lady Catherine asks so many questions?
• What does she do every day when she can be alone?
• Can thinking about something painful ever feel good?

A strong answer A strong response chooses a reading of the phrase and tests it on the paragraphs that follow. One reader hears relief: after hours of attending to Lady Catherine, honest thought is “the greatest relief”, painful or not. Another hears the narrator’s smile: “indulge” is a word for treats, and the daily walk turns going over her faults into a habit. The best answers notice what the walks produce, a run of hard verdicts on herself and her family, and ask whether those verdicts are steadier for the solitude or harsher for it. The last written question needs that answer.

What it asks It asks the student to hold together two things the same paragraph says about Darcy. As she studies the letter, “When she remembered the style of his address, she was still full of indignation: but when she considered how unjustly she had condemned and upbraided him, her anger was turned against herself; and his disappointed feelings became the object of compassion. His attachment excited gratitude, his general character respect: but she could not approve him; nor could she for a moment repent her refusal, or feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again.” Here “the style of his address” means his manner toward her, “upbraided” means scolded, “compassion” means pity, “attachment” means his love for her, “approve” means think well of as a whole, “repent” means regret, and “inclination” means wish. The student decides whether owning that she was unjust to him and keeping her refusal without regret can both be honest. The card does not say that Elizabeth now wishes she had married Darcy; the chapter says she could not “for a moment repent her refusal.”

One reading

They fit. She was unjust about what he had done, and she has taken that back: her anger now turns “against herself”. But a refusal needs no charge against him. It needs only that she cannot approve him, and his manner still fills her with “indignation”. Gratitude and respect are not the same as wanting to marry someone. On this reading she has corrected her judgment and kept her answer, and both are honest.

• When she remembered the style of his address, she was still full of indignation
• His attachment excited gratitude, his general character respect: but she could not approve him

Another reading

They sit uneasily. She condemned and upbraided him, and she refused him; she now calls the condemning unjust, yet the refusal is kept beyond regret, and the sentence says so with no pause: “nor could she for a moment”. She studies every sentence of his letter, but her refusal gets one quick clause. This reading does not say she should have accepted him. It says she has changed her opinion of him without looking again at what she did with that opinion, and the reader may ask whether her other verdicts in the chapter come as fast.

• how unjustly she had condemned and upbraided him, her anger was turned against herself
• nor could she for a moment repent her refusal

Listen for

• Keeps gratitude, respect and approval apart, as the chapter does.
• Separates being wrong about what he did from being wrong to refuse him.
• Finds “the style of his address” still stirring “indignation”.
• Does not say that Elizabeth now wishes she had married Darcy or is coming to love him.

If stuck

• What does Elizabeth now see she did to Darcy unjustly?
• Which of her feelings about him are kind ones, and what still makes her angry?
• If you were wrong about someone, does that change every answer you gave them?

A strong answer A strong response separates what she has taken back from what she keeps. One reader finds the two fit: she was unjust about his conduct and now blames herself, but refusing him needs only that she “could not approve him”, and his manner still fills her with “indignation”. Another finds them uneasy: she studies every sentence of the letter, yet the refusal she gave while condemning him is not regretted “for a moment”. The best answers do not read gratitude as love; the chapter says she could not “for a moment repent her refusal”. They also notice how fast the paragraph moves from Darcy to her own family, and ask whether a verdict kept this quickly is a safe guide to the next one. That is where the last written question begins.

What it asks It asks the student to weigh the one reservation in Elizabeth’s new view of Bingley. “Anxiety on Jane’s behalf was another prevailing concern; and Mr. Darcy’s explanation, by restoring Bingley to all her former good opinion, heightened the sense of what Jane had lost. His affection was proved to have been sincere, and his conduct cleared of all blame, unless any could attach to the implicitness of his confidence in his friend.” Here “prevailing” means strongest, “heightened” means made sharper, “sincere” means real and honest, and “implicitness” means complete trust that asks no questions. The student decides whether trusting a friend that far is a small fault or a real one. The card does not say that Bingley still loves Jane; Elizabeth knows only that his affection “was proved to have been sincere.”

One reading

A small one. Trusting a friend is a good man’s fault. With Bingley restored to “all her former good opinion”, Elizabeth treats it as barely a fault at all, blame only “unless any could attach”. On this reading Bingley erred by being loyal, and what parted him from Jane lies elsewhere.

• by restoring Bingley to all her former good opinion
• unless any could attach to the implicitness of his confidence in his friend

Another reading

A large one. His affection was sincere, and still he let another man decide whether to act on it. A man who gives up what he wants on a friend’s word has a share in what Jane lost. On this reading the grammar hides how much his trust cost: the fault sits in a small “unless” clause, and the next sentence lays the whole loss on the Bennets.

• His affection was proved to have been sincere
• Jane had been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family!

Listen for

• Notices how small the clause is that holds Bingley’s fault: “unless any could attach”.
• Asks whether his sincere affection makes the trust a bigger fault or a smaller one.
• Notices that clearing Bingley makes Jane’s loss feel worse to Elizabeth, not better.
• Does not say that Bingley still loves Jane.

If stuck

• What does Darcy’s explanation prove about Bingley’s feelings, by Elizabeth’s account?
• Whom did Bingley trust, and how far?
• If someone cares for you sincerely and lets a friend talk them out of it, who is to blame?

A strong answer A strong response weighs the fault against what it cost. One reader finds it small: trusting a friend is a forgivable fault, and Elizabeth’s restored good opinion is fair to him. Another finds it large: his affection was “sincere”, he still let another decide, and the “unless” clause makes very little of that. The best answers notice how Elizabeth now spreads the blame for Jane’s loss: Bingley almost none, his friend unnamed, her own family all of it. Where the blame belongs is the last written question.

What it asks It asks the student to test Elizabeth’s verdict against the chapter’s last scene. On her walks: “In her own past behaviour, there was a constant source of vexation and regret: and in the unhappy defects of her family, a subject of yet heavier chagrin. They were hopeless of remedy. Her father, contented with laughing at them, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters; and her mother, with manners so far from right herself, was entirely insensible of the evil.” She and Jane had tried “to check the imprudence of Catherine and Lydia; but while they were supported by their mother’s indulgence, what chance could there be of improvement?” Catherine “had been always affronted by their advice; and Lydia, self-willed and careless, would scarcely give them a hearing.” On the last evening Lady Catherine “gave them directions as to the best method of packing, and was so urgent on the necessity of placing gowns in the only right way, that Maria thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all the work of the morning, and pack her trunk afresh.” Here “remedy” means a cure, “chagrin” means bitter, embarrassed disappointment, “insensible of” in Austen’s sense means unaware of, “imprudence” means unwise, careless behaviour, “indulgence” means letting someone have their way, and “affronted” means offended. The student builds a thesis on whether the family’s faults are truly past mending, meets the strongest objection, and revises. The card does not say what happens to Lydia; the chapter judges her “self-willed and careless” and goes no further.

One reading

She is right. Advice works in this chapter only when it has weight behind it: Maria undoes a morning’s work on Lady Catherine’s word. At Longbourn the two people with that weight will not use it. Her father laughs, her mother does not see the harm, and sisters have no standing: Lydia “would scarcely give them a hearing.” On this reading “hopeless” is a plain account of who could act and will not.

• Maria thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all the work of the morning, and pack her trunk afresh
• but while they were supported by their mother’s indulgence, what chance could there be of improvement?
• would scarcely give them a hearing

Another reading

She is too quick. Maria shows that a young woman will bend to a firm enough voice, so the faults are not past cure; they are past cure only while her father will not try. “Hopeless” turns a fault someone could still mend into a fact of nature, and it lets the one person able to act off the hook. On this reading Elizabeth’s despair matches her father’s laughter: both give the problem up.

• would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters
• They were hopeless of remedy.

Listen for

• Sets Maria’s repacked trunk beside Lydia’s refusal to listen, and asks what makes the difference.
• Keeps the charge against Mr. Bennet exact, that he laughs instead of acting, and notices that Elizabeth cites his letter when she turns Lady Catherine down.
• Asks whether “hopeless” describes the sisters, or their father and mother.
• Does not say what happens to Lydia.

If stuck

• Why does Maria pack her trunk twice?
• What happened when Elizabeth and Jane tried to correct Catherine and Lydia?
• Who in the family could make Lydia listen, and does he try?

A strong answer A strong response might argue that Elizabeth is right as things stand. The chapter shows advice taking hold only where it has weight behind it, as with Maria and her trunk, and at Longbourn the father who has that weight is “contented with laughing” while the mother’s “indulgence” undoes every effort of the sisters. The strongest objection is that “hopeless” is too final. If Maria bends to a firm voice, Lydia might too; and a father’s word does count with a daughter, since Elizabeth cites her father’s letter when she turns Lady Catherine down. On that view the faults are hopeless only while her father will not “exert himself”, and despairing of them gives the problem up much as his laughter does. A second objection cuts the other way: Maria’s obedience changes how she packs, not how she thinks, so management alone is no cure either. A revised thesis might hold that Elizabeth is right that she and Jane cannot mend their sisters, and wrong to call the faults past remedy when the remedy is her father’s and goes unused.

What it asks It asks the whole question of the chapter. On her walks Elizabeth thinks: “Anxiety on Jane’s behalf was another prevailing concern; and Mr. Darcy’s explanation, by restoring Bingley to all her former good opinion, heightened the sense of what Jane had lost. His affection was proved to have been sincere, and his conduct cleared of all blame, unless any could attach to the implicitness of his confidence in his friend. How grievous then was the thought that, of a situation so desirable in every respect, so replete with advantage, so promising for happiness, Jane had been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family!” The paragraph before names that family’s faults: “Her father, contented with laughing at them, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters; and her mother, with manners so far from right herself, was entirely insensible of the evil.” Of the two youngest: “While there was an officer in Meryton, they would flirt with him”. Of Darcy, a few lines earlier: “His attachment excited gratitude, his general character respect: but she could not approve him”. Darcy is not named in the sentence about Jane; the only trace of his part is Bingley’s “confidence in his friend”. Here “grievous” means deeply painful, “replete with” means full of, “folly” means foolishness, “indecorum” means behaviour that breaks good manners, “implicitness” means complete, unquestioning trust, and “insensible of” means unaware of. The student builds a thesis on where the blame for Jane’s loss belongs, meets the strongest objection, and revises. The card must not say that Elizabeth now wishes she had married Darcy, that Lady Catherine knows of the proposal, what happens to Lydia, or that Bingley still loves Jane.

One reading

Fair, or nearly. Darcy acted, but by the account Elizabeth now has nearly by heart, the reason lay at home. Her charge is exact: her father laughs instead of restraining the youngest girls, her mother cannot see the harm, and the girls run after officers. A family that behaves so in public cannot be surprised when a careful man fears it. On this reading Elizabeth is right to look homeward, and her honesty about her own family is the hardest thing she does in the chapter.

• contented with laughing at them, would never exert himself
• her mother, with manners so far from right herself, was entirely insensible of the evil
• While there was an officer in Meryton, they would flirt with him

Another reading

Too hard on her family, and too easy on Darcy. Silliness at Longbourn did not part Jane and Bingley; a man’s choice did, and Bingley let him make it. The sentence about Jane is built to leave him out: it clears Bingley, lists what Jane lost, and lands the whole blame on “her own family!” Elizabeth still cannot approve Darcy, yet when she counts the cost to Jane his name drops away. On this reading the blame has moved homeward faster than the facts have.

• unless any could attach to the implicitness of his confidence in his friend
• but she could not approve him
• Jane had been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family!

Listen for

• Notices that Darcy is not named in the sentence about Jane; only Bingley’s “confidence in his friend” points to him.
• Keeps the charge against her father and mother exact: her father laughs instead of acting, and her mother does not see the harm.
• Separates a cause from a fault: the family may have given Darcy his reason without being to blame for what he did with it.
• Does not say that Bingley still loves Jane, that Elizabeth now wishes she had married Darcy, or what happens to Lydia.

If stuck

• In the sentence about Jane, who does Elizabeth say took her chance away?
• What part does Bingley’s trust in his friend play?
• What does Elizabeth say her father and mother do, or fail to do, about her youngest sisters?

A strong answer A strong response might argue that Elizabeth is right to look homeward. Key evidence includes her exact charge against her father, “contented with laughing at them”, her mother “entirely insensible of the evil”, and sisters who “would flirt” with any officer in Meryton; she now reads Jane’s loss as their doing. The strongest objection is that their conduct was the occasion and not the act: Jane was parted from Bingley by a man’s decision and by Bingley’s “implicitness of his confidence in his friend”, and the sentence about Jane leaves Darcy out entirely, though a paragraph earlier Elizabeth still “could not approve him”. A revised thesis might hold that her family gave the reason and Darcy made the choice, so the blame is shared, and that Elizabeth’s new view is honest about her family and, in her grief for Jane, too quick to let Darcy’s part drop.