Page 113 of May I Have the Pleasure
“Some of those carry on that way their whole lives and it is just a matter of luck whether they prosper because of their unrelenting selfishness, or drive everyone away until they die friendless and alone.”
“You think that will be the fate for your mother and Lydia.”
“It seems likely.”
“A bitter assessment, but I must own, probably prescient.”
“We shall see, Charlotte. We shall see.”
“What else?”
“A vast number, especially among the courtiers, are just like fourteen-year-old Kitty, Mrs Hurst, or Mr Bingley. They pick someone to follow, then follow them with the devotion and lack of sense of the stupidest hound. The last real decision they ever make in their life is who to follow, then they just trail along like some trout on a line.”
“That seems… disturbing.”
“But you can agree.”
“I do not doubt it. I see that in the society we occupy. Richard could find you dozens of such examples in the army.”
“Hundreds more likely.”
“That seems right.”
“Then there are the collaborative competitors—people whose entire life is a meaningless competition for one-upmanship in an obscure game made up just for their amusement. Whether it is fashion, social status, dance steps, or gossip—they are cutthroat in their ambitions, but entirely dependent on their competitors for an audience. They are like your mother and mine. Take away the games and the entireedifice collapses under its own weight because there was nothing of substance to start with, but they will all play the game until they die. I am describing most of the first circles of society, or the infamouston.”
“I never saw it quite that way, but it makes sense.”
“I have a lot of time to think.”
“You had lots of time to think when you were in Hertfordshire, but you did not have the experience to do so. Now you are becoming wise, I believe.”
“You will turn my head, Charlotte. Shall we continue?”
“I cannot wait.”
“Of course, in a place like this, there are many-many-many who are simply selfish and lazy. They just want to be left alone to pursue whatever they want and to be ignored except at mealtimes. I need not name the prime example for that behaviour.”
“No, I understand the implication.”
“Among the higher levels of the church, I find many just like Mary—moralising sermonisers with no understanding of anything outside their own tiny lives and their own chosen passages in a few holy books. They would make me despair, but just when I am about to give up on the lot, I find one like Jane was—loving, kind, able to think the best of everybody and expend any effort to help them be good and kind. Then I find some that are as intelligent as Fitzwilliam, as tactical as your husband, as kind as Mrs Long, or best of all, a combination of all of those attributes. In the end, they turn out to be interesting so long as you ignore the worst of them—and perhaps, most of the mediocre as well.”
“Maybe you just described everyone.”
“Perhaps.”
“Are there more?”
“Among the military, I find many like your husband—dedicated, honourable, brave. Do not look at me that way—I know things your husband would not tell you. He earned my approbation the hard way.”
“I am not certain I want to know.”
“That is good, as I have not the slightest intention of telling you. Drag it out of him if you want, but I do not recommend it. Nobody likes the ugliness of war, but when our home and livelihoods were threatened—as it most certainly was while we were both young, ignorant, and carefree—men like him were in the breach fighting for their lives to save us.”
“I will agree with that.”
“Then there are the Wickhams of the world…apparentlycultured,apparentlywell read,apparentlywell informed,apparentlybrave and honourable…. but really just a chimera. I have seen more of those than I care to name. I once saw a general who presented the results of a campaign to the king that he supposedly managed, and he obviously had not the slightest idea of what actually happened once he was questioned.”
“What happened?”
