I am planning to spend most of the summer in Edinburgh, which despite its manifold attractions, is not the first place you associate with Jane Austen (although to be sure, the archives of her publisher John Murray, who published Lord Byron as well as Austen, are now held at the National Library of Scotland, in Edinburgh). Also I may be too distracted by climbing Arthur’s Seat (an aim of mine) or eating Cullin Skink chowder (another) to come up with new stories. Therefore, I thought I’d post occasional oldies that I hope were goodies, while I am away.
We begin at the beginning, with Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her sister Lady Anne Darcy having that infamous conversation over their children’s cradles.
Lady Catherine’s Plans
“What a fine pair they are,” said Lady Catherine, tilting her dark, lace-capped head sentimentally to the side, for effect. “Surely no finer children were ever seen in England.”
“You are right, I believe,” Lady Anne answered placidly. “My little Darcy is remarkably strong and intelligent, and twice little Anne’s size.”
“Quite fitting, as he is a boy,” said Lady Catherine, her eyes darting from one to the other. “Have you thought of their futures, Anne?”
“Their futures? Why, Darcy is not a year old yet, and Anne not eight months. Besides, Darcy’s future is settled; he will be master of Pemberley one day, which is surely all one could ask, don’t you agree?”
“Oh, indeed,” said her sister, “but it is never too soon to look forward to the important question of marriage, you know. Look! I do believe the little fellow is regarding his cousin with real affection. See that? What a little love! It would almost seem as though they are meant for each other.”
“To marry, you mean? But it could not be for another twenty years, at soonest, my dear Catherine. And then, you know, they might fall in love with entirely different people.”
“Nonsense! Our children will always do as their mothers desire, I am sure. Only see – Darcy is reaching out. Why, he might be her little husband!”
“I think it is the kitten’s tail he wants.”
“Upon my word, it is her hand, I am positive. Anne, I have a thought. Why should we not promise them to each other? Then one day, little Anne – are you not happy that I named my daughter for you, dearest? – will be always at Pemberley.”
“Well,” considered Lady Anne, “I don’t see what little Darcy will gain by it. He is always at Pemberley already.”
“If he marries Anne, he will be master of Rosings as well, and of Lewis’s fortune, and mine, which is not inconsiderable. And he would be gaining the sweetest girl in all England – you can see she is that.”
“She is well enough, I suppose,” Lady Anne said observing the child critically.
“So you will do it? We will plight their troth? Come, you take Darcy’s hand, and I will take Anne’s, and we will hold them together – see – like that.”
Bending down between the cradles, Lady Catherine put one baby’s hand in the other’s. Immediately they both started loudly crying.
“They do not like it,” said Lady Anne indifferently.
“Oh! They do, they do. And only think, years from now, and forever after – we will be able to say that this match, the match between the cousins Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Miss Anne de Bourgh, was intended from their infancy. That we planned the union while in their cradles.”
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