The next morning Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, aligned at last, decided to take the Marys to their Aunt Philips in Meryton. Mrs. Philips, though childless herself, was a fiend for backseat parenting. When asked if she would aid in the Bennets’ marital quest, the reply was swift and emphatic.
“Merry Christmas!”
As for the pretence of the visit, a promise that their aunt “had a sermon waiting for them,” was all that was needed; the Marys clawed at the door like a pack of hounds to be let out, and the mile walk was undertaken in very little time.
There was an additional, unspoken benefit to this visit: the newly arrived regiment peacocking around town. The soldiers were young and virile, energised (in equal measure) by a desire to both wet their blades with the blood of Frenchmen, and wet their something-elses with something else ;). If there were loins to be stirred under the sisters’ starched petticoats, surely this would do the trick.
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