Chapter 49 — Teaching Companion

What it asks It asks the student why a father who has had the letter for half an hour hands it over instead of telling the news. Hill says the express “has been here this half hour, and master has had a letter.” The girls find him not in the house but crossing the paddock, “deliberately pursuing his way towards a small wood.” When Elizabeth asks “good or bad?”, he answers, “What is there of good to be expected?” and “perhaps you would like to read it.” Then: “Read it aloud,” said their father, “for I hardly know myself what it is about.” The same habit runs through the chapter. When Jane offers to write the answer, he says, “I dislike it very much,” “but it must be done.” When the girls ask whether to tell their mother, he replies without raising his head, “Just as you please,” and then, “Take whatever you like, and get away.” The card does not say who paid Wickham, or how much; the family only guesses.

One reading

Because he dreads it. He expects nothing good from the letter and says so: “What is there of good to be expected?” Whatever its terms, the best it can bring is Lydia married to Wickham. To read it out himself would be to announce as good news what he cannot feel as good, so he lets his daughter’s voice carry it. On this reading “I hardly know myself” is dry: he knows enough.

• What is there of good to be expected?
• perhaps you would like to read it

Another reading

Because he wants no part in it. He walks away from the house with the letter, gives it to Elizabeth to read, dislikes writing the answer, and sends the girls to their mother with “Take whatever you like, and get away.” On this reading “I hardly know myself what it is about” keeps the whole business at arm’s length. The rescue is arranged by his brother-in-law and told by his daughters, and the father stands to one side of his own family’s news.

• deliberately pursuing his way towards a small wood
• Take whatever you like, and get away.

Listen for

• Notices the half hour, and that he has walked away from the house rather than toward his family.
• Hears the dryness in “perhaps you would like to read it,” said to a daughter who is “panting for breath.”
• Connects the handing-over on the lawn to “I dislike it very much” and “Take whatever you like, and get away.”
• Gives him a reason the scene supports, without making him simply cold or simply wise, and does not say who paid Wickham.

If stuck

• Where is Mr. Bennet going when the girls catch up with him?
• What does he say when Elizabeth asks if the news is good or bad?
• Why might someone hand hard news to another person to read out?

A strong answer A strong response gives Mr. Bennet a reason and grounds it in the scene on the lawn. One reader hears dread: he expects nothing good (“What is there of good to be expected?”) and will not voice as good news what he cannot feel as good. Another hears a man stepping back from his family’s business: he walks “deliberately” toward the wood, lets his daughter read, dislikes writing the answer, and sends the letter upstairs with “Take whatever you like, and get away.” The best answers notice that all the chapter’s thanks and rejoicing come from other people, and that the father never once gives the news himself.

What it asks It asks the student why a letter that finds no “intention” of marriage makes Jane think better of Wickham. Elizabeth reads, “I have seen them both,” and Jane breaks in: “Then it is as I always hoped,” and “they are married!” The letter goes on: “They are not married, nor can I find there was any intention of being so; but if you are willing to perform the engagements which I have ventured to make on your side, I hope it will not be long before they are.” The terms are Lydia’s equal share of the five thousand pounds, settled on her, and one hundred pounds a year during her father’s life. Mr. Gardiner adds that “Mr. Wickham’s circumstances are not so hopeless as they are generally believed to be. The world has been deceived in that respect.” When Elizabeth has finished, she asks, “Can it be possible that he will marry her?” Jane answers, “Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we have thought him,” and adds, “My dear father, I congratulate you.” On the walk home her father reads the same small terms the other way. The card does not say that Wickham has a real regard for Lydia, or who paid him, or how much.

One reading

The small terms. Jane takes the letter at its word. Wickham will marry Lydia for her share of the five thousand pounds and a hundred a year, and Mr. Gardiner writes that his affairs are not as bad as people believed: “The world has been deceived in that respect.” A man who will marry on such terms looks less greedy than they had thought him. On this reading her “then” is a real inference from what she has just heard, the same one she draws later when she says he “certainly would not marry Lydia, if he had not a real regard for her.”

• Mr. Wickham’s circumstances are not so hopeless as they are generally believed to be.
• The world has been deceived in that respect

Another reading

Nothing in the letter; the change is in Jane. Her hope came first: she broke in before the letter had said whether they were married. The letter’s hardest line, that there was never “any intention” of marrying, does not move her, and the wedding still waits on “the engagements” Mr. Gardiner has made on her father’s side, which are terms, not a change of heart. On this reading the letter gives her a reason for a kindness she was always going to feel, and Elizabeth, hearing the same words, can only ask whether it is “possible.”

• Then it is as I always hoped,” cried Jane: “they are married!
• Can it be possible that he will marry her?

Listen for

• Hears the “then” in Jane’s line: she is drawing a conclusion, and the question is from what.
• Notices the letter’s own word on Wickham’s money, “The world has been deceived in that respect,” and that Jane takes it on trust.
• Sets Jane’s “not so undeserving” beside Elizabeth’s “Can it be possible that he will marry her?”, both spoken over the same letter.
• Does not claim that Wickham has a real regard for Lydia, and does not say who paid him or how much.

If stuck

• What does Jane think the letter is going to say when she breaks in?
• What does the letter ask Mr. Bennet to give Lydia, and what does it say about Wickham’s debts?
• When you want to think well of someone, how much proof do you need?

A strong answer A strong response gives Jane a reason and grounds it in the letter. One reader hears an honest inference: the terms are small, and Mr. Gardiner writes that Wickham’s “circumstances are not so hopeless” as people believed, so a man who will marry Lydia on such terms looks less like the man they feared. Another hears a hope that came before the evidence: she cried “they are married!” before she knew, and “nor can I find there was any intention of being so” does not touch it. The best answers notice that her father, who heard the same letter, draws the opposite conclusion on the walk home.

What it asks It asks the student to read one word, “ashamed,” in a man who rarely says what he feels. Elizabeth asks if the terms must be “complied with.” He answers, “Complied with! I am only ashamed of his asking so little.” Then: “there are two things that I want very much to know:--one is, how much money your uncle has laid down to bring it about; and the other, how I am ever to pay him.” He explains that “no man in his proper senses would marry Lydia on so slight a temptation as one hundred a year during my life, and fifty after I am gone,” and adds, “Wickham’s a fool if he takes her with a farthing less than ten thousand pounds: I should be sorry to think so ill of him, in the very beginning of our relationship.” Elizabeth says it “had not occurred to me before.” They walk home in silence. The card does not say who paid Wickham or how much; ten thousand pounds is Mr. Bennet’s guess.

One reading

Ashamed of himself. If the terms are this small, someone else has paid what a father should have paid, and he cannot even tell how much. His first question is what his brother “has laid down,” and his second is how he is “ever to pay him.” On this reading the shame is real: he is rescued by his wife’s brother, in debt for a sum he cannot see, and the joke he makes is the only way he can say it.

• how much money your uncle has laid down to bring it about; and the other, how I am ever to pay him
• Mr. Bennet made no answer

Another reading

Ashamed as a joke, on Wickham’s behalf. He talks as if Wickham had sold himself too cheap: he would be “a fool” to take Lydia for less than ten thousand pounds, and Mr. Bennet would “be sorry to think so ill of him.” On this reading “ashamed” is the same dry wit, a way of saying he does not believe the letter’s small terms for a moment, and of naming Wickham’s price without calling him mercenary outright. The joke is sharp because it is true: the marriage has a price.

• Wickham’s a fool if he takes her with a farthing less than ten thousand pounds
• I should be sorry to think so ill of him, in the very beginning of our relationship

Listen for

• Hears “only” in “I am only ashamed”: the terms themselves do not trouble him at all.
• Notices that the father sees the hidden cost first, and that Elizabeth says it “had not occurred to me before.”
• Hears the bitterness in “the very beginning of our relationship,” said of his new son-in-law.
• Asks what the sums make the family suspect rather than adding them up, and does not name who paid.

If stuck

• What does the letter ask Mr. Bennet to give Lydia?
• Why does Mr. Bennet think no man would marry her for that?
• Can a person feel ashamed of being helped?

A strong answer A strong response names the shame and grounds it in the walk home. One reader hears a father ashamed of himself: someone else has paid, and he wants to know “how much money your uncle has laid down” and “how I am ever to pay him.” Another hears a joke on Wickham’s price, “a fool if he takes her with a farthing less than ten thousand pounds,” which says he does not believe the letter’s terms. The best answers notice that the wit and the worry come in one breath, and that the walk ends with Mr. Bennet making “no answer.”

What it asks It asks the student what Jane’s “forget” asks of the family. In the breakfast-room Jane says, “We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either side,” and goes on: “I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His consenting to marry her is a proof, I will believe, that he is come to a right way of thinking. Their mutual affection will steady them; and I flatter myself they will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, as may in time make their past imprudence forgotten.” Elizabeth replies that their conduct has been such “as neither you, nor I, nor anybody, can ever forget. It is useless to talk of it.” Jane’s forgetting has two parts: the family’s own, “on either side,” and the world’s, which a quiet life may bring “in time.” The card does not say that Wickham has a real regard for Lydia, or whether the marriage will be happy.

One reading

To forgive. “On either side” asks the family to let go of its own anger as well as the couple’s wrong, and “endeavour” makes that a task taken up on purpose, not a feeling that simply arrives. The wedding will happen, and Lydia and Wickham will be family. Jane offers the one way the family can live beside them. On this reading Jane is not blind: she knows forgetting is work, and she chooses it.

• We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either side
• I hope and trust they will yet be happy.

Another reading

To cover the past over. Jane’s hope ends not on the couple’s happiness but on the world’s forgetting: they will live so quietly “as may in time make their past imprudence forgotten.” The family is to forget so that others stop remembering. On this reading her forgetting does for the family’s feelings what the wedding does for its name, and Elizabeth refuses it: nobody “can ever forget,” and talk that pretends otherwise is “useless.”

• as may in time make their past imprudence forgotten
• It is useless to talk of it.

Listen for

• Hears “endeavour”: Jane herself calls forgetting a task, not something that will happen on its own.
• Notices “on either side”: Jane asks the family to forget its own part too.
• Notices where Jane’s speech ends: on the past “forgotten,” by others as well as by the family.
• Lets both sisters stand, hears that Elizabeth refuses to forget but not to accept the wedding, and does not claim that Wickham has a real regard for Lydia.

If stuck

• What does Jane hope Lydia and Wickham’s life will be like?
• Who, in the end, does Jane hope will forget?
• Can you forget something on purpose?

A strong answer A strong response names what Jane asks and grounds it in her own words. One reader hears a call to forgive: forgetting is work (“endeavour”), it covers the family’s side as well as the couple’s (“on either side”), and it lets the family live beside the couple. Another hears a call to cover the past: Jane’s hope ends on a life so quiet it may “make their past imprudence forgotten,” and Elizabeth answers that nobody “can ever forget.” The best answers notice that Jane’s forgetting would do for the family’s feelings what the wedding does for its name, and let both sisters’ readings stand.

What it asks It asks the student to take Mrs. Bennet seriously for a moment, on the one question where she speaks about the debt. Jane tries to calm her “by leading her thoughts to the obligations which Mr. Gardiner’s behaviour laid them all under”: “We are persuaded that he has pledged himself to assist Mr. Wickham with money.” Her mother replies: “it is all very right; who should do it but her own uncle? If he had not had a family of his own,” the money would have come to her and hers; “and it is the first time we have ever had anything from him except a few presents.” Earlier she cried, “My good, kind brother! I knew how it would be--I knew he would manage everything.” Then: “We will settle with your father about the money afterwards; but the things should be ordered immediately.” In the breakfast-room Elizabeth has said, “The kindness of my uncle and aunt can never be requited.” The card does not say how much Mr. Gardiner paid, or that he paid at all; the family only guesses.

One reading

Yes, in part. Family helps family, and she has always counted on her brother: “I knew he would manage everything.” She does thank him, in her way: “My good, kind brother!” In her world, an uncle’s money stands near to family money, and she says plainly that had he no family of his own, it would have come to her and hers. On this reading she is not wrong that kinship asks this of him; what she lacks is not a point but a sense of what it costs him.

• My good, kind brother! I knew how it would be--I knew he would manage everything.
• who should do it but her own uncle?

Another reading

No. Her reasoning turns a gift into something owed. She counts it as “the first time we have ever had anything from him except a few presents,” as if a debt to her were at last being paid, the reverse of Elizabeth’s “can never be requited.” And she moves straight from the money to the wedding clothes, which “should be ordered immediately.” On this reading the point she makes is the reason she feels no obligation at all, and the debt the family owes stays invisible to the one person shouting about the good news.

• it is the first time we have ever had anything from him except a few presents
• The kindness of my uncle and aunt can never be requited.

Listen for

• Notices that she does praise her brother, “My good, kind brother!”, before she explains why he owes it.
• Hears what “If he had not had a family of his own” assumes about whose money her brother’s money really is.
• Sets her words beside Elizabeth’s “years of gratitude cannot enough acknowledge” without making her only ridiculous.
• Does not say how much was paid, or by whom.

If stuck

• What does Jane want her mother to think about?
• What does Mrs. Bennet say back, and what does she want to do next?
• When family helps you, is it a gift or something they owed you?

A strong answer A strong response decides whether Mrs. Bennet has a point and grounds it in her reply. One reader allows her the point: kin help kin, she has always trusted her brother to “manage everything,” and she does call him “good” and “kind.” Another hears a gift turned into a due, “the first time we have ever had anything from him,” set against Elizabeth’s “can never be requited.” The best answers notice that she and Elizabeth agree he has done it, and differ only, but entirely, on what the family owes him.

What it asks It asks the student to weigh two gladnesses that rest on the same news. As the letter is read, Mrs. Bennet “could hardly contain herself”: “She was now in an irritation as violent from delight as she had ever been fidgety from alarm and vexation. To know that her daughter would be married was enough. She was disturbed by no fear for her felicity, nor humbled by any remembrance of her misconduct.” She cries, “She will be married! I shall see her again! She will be married at sixteen!” and “Mrs. Wickham! How well it sounds!”, and promises the servants “a bowl of punch to make merry at her wedding.” Elizabeth “received her congratulations amongst the rest, and then, sick of this folly, took refuge in her own room, that she might think with freedom.” There: “Poor Lydia’s situation must, at best, be bad enough; but that it was no worse, she had need to be thankful. She felt it so; and though, in looking forward, neither rational happiness, nor worldly prosperity could be justly expected for her sister, in looking back to what they had feared, only two hours ago, she felt all the advantages of what they had gained.” Earlier she has said, “we are forced to rejoice!” The card does not say whether the marriage will be happy.

One reading

Better, because it sees. Mrs. Bennet is glad of one fact and nothing else: “To know that her daughter would be married was enough.” Elizabeth’s thanks counts the cost before it gives thanks. She expects neither “rational happiness, nor worldly prosperity” for Lydia, and is thankful only that it is “no worse.” On this reading a gladness that knows what it is glad of, and what it has lost, is a different thing from joy that has no fear in it at all.

• To know that her daughter would be married was enough.
• neither rational happiness, nor worldly prosperity could be justly expected for her sister

Another reading

Only quieter. Both rest on the same fact: Lydia will be married, and the disgrace they feared two hours ago is gone. Elizabeth, alone, “felt all the advantages of what they had gained,” the very advantages her mother shouts about. Her mother’s joy has love in it that Elizabeth’s never voices: “I shall see her again!” And Elizabeth calls her own gladness forced, “we are forced to rejoice!” On this reading the difference is in manners and in self-knowledge, not in what each woman is glad of.

• she felt all the advantages of what they had gained.
• I shall see her again!

Listen for

• Notices that the narrator judges Mrs. Bennet in two absences, “no fear” and no “remembrance,” and that Elizabeth’s last sentence looks both forward and back.
• Hears Mrs. Bennet’s “I shall see her again!” as more than folly.
• Sees that Elizabeth’s thankfulness comes only after she is alone, “that she might think with freedom,” and asks what thinking adds.
• Does not claim the marriage will be happy or miserable; Elizabeth predicts, the chapter does not tell.

If stuck

• What is Mrs. Bennet glad about, in her own words?
• What is Elizabeth thankful for at the end, alone in her room?
• Can two people be glad of the same thing and still be glad in different ways?

A strong answer A strong response might argue that Elizabeth’s thankfulness is better because it sees the cost: her mother finds it “enough” that Lydia will be married, while Elizabeth expects neither “rational happiness, nor worldly prosperity” and is thankful only that things are “no worse.” Key evidence to consider includes the narrator’s “disturbed by no fear for her felicity” beside Elizabeth’s look “forward” and “back.” The strongest objection is that both are glad of the same fact, that Elizabeth too “felt all the advantages of what they had gained,” and that her mother’s “I shall see her again!” holds a love Elizabeth never voices. A revised thesis might hold that the two women are glad of the same thing and differ in what they let themselves know about it, which leaves the last question open: whether that thing deserves thanks at all.

What it asks It asks the whole question of the chapter. In the breakfast-room Elizabeth cries, “And they are really to be married!” and then: “How strange this is! and for _this_ we are to be thankful. That they should marry, small as is their chance of happiness, and wretched as is his character, we are forced to rejoice! Oh, Lydia!” On the lawn her father asked, “What is there of good to be expected?” and on the walk he wondered “how much money your uncle has laid down to bring it about” and “how I am ever to pay him.” Jane hopes “they will yet be happy.” Mrs. Bennet is “disturbed by no fear for her felicity” and cries, “She will be married at sixteen!” Elizabeth, alone at the end: “Poor Lydia’s situation must, at best, be bad enough; but that it was no worse, she had need to be thankful. She felt it so; and though, in looking forward, neither rational happiness, nor worldly prosperity could be justly expected for her sister, in looking back to what they had feared, only two hours ago, she felt all the advantages of what they had gained.” The card does not say who paid Wickham or how much, that Wickham has a real regard for Lydia, or whether the marriage will be happy or miserable.

One reading

Yes, as a rescue from something worse. Two hours ago the family feared Lydia would never be married at all; now she will have a name, a settlement, and her uncle’s house to be married from. Elizabeth herself comes round to it: “that it was no worse, she had need to be thankful.” Thanks for a lesser evil is still thanks, and the chapter ends on it. On this reading “How strange this is!” is the first shock of a feeling Elizabeth works through, alone, to a sober yes.

• but that it was no worse, she had need to be thankful
• in looking back to what they had feared, only two hours ago

Another reading

No: the thanks belong to the people who paid, not to the marriage. Elizabeth names the match plainly, “small as is their chance of happiness, and wretched as is his character,” and stresses the word: “for _this_ we are to be thankful.” Her father expects no good from it, and what it has brought him first is a debt he cannot measure. On this reading the family is right to be grateful to Mr. Gardiner, “Generous, good man,” and wrong to call the wedding good news; the marriage is a thing to be endured, and Mrs. Bennet’s punch and wedding clothes show what it looks like when no one asks what it cost.

• How strange this is! and for this we are to be thankful.
• small as is their chance of happiness, and wretched as is his character

Listen for

• Hears the stress on “this” in “for _this_ we are to be thankful.”
• Notices that Elizabeth’s “forced to rejoice” in the breakfast-room and her quiet thanks alone in her room are not quite the same feeling, and asks what changed between them.
• Separates gratitude for the uncle’s kindness from gladness at the marriage itself.
• Does not say who paid or how much, does not credit Wickham with “a real regard,” and does not predict the marriage’s happiness.

If stuck

• What did the family fear before the letter came?
• What does Elizabeth say about Wickham’s character and Lydia’s chances?
• Can you be thankful for something you know is bad, because it is not worse?

A strong answer A strong response might argue that the marriage deserves a guarded thanks, as Elizabeth herself decides: “that it was no worse, she had need to be thankful,” looking back “to what they had feared, only two hours ago.” Key evidence to consider includes her own measure of the match, “small as is their chance of happiness, and wretched as is his character,” and her father’s “What is there of good to be expected?” The strongest objection is that the thanks belong to Mr. Gardiner, not to a wedding Wickham had no “intention” of making until terms were found, and that the stress in “for _this_ we are to be thankful” is Elizabeth’s own protest. A revised thesis might hold that the family can be thankful for the rescue and still refuse to be glad of the match, and that the chapter keeps both feelings in the same room without choosing between them.