Proper Order

Lady Catherine opened the small leather-bound volume and read “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.”

“Poppycock,” said Lady Catherine. In her youth she had known many wealthy unmarried men whose only interests were to slaughter large quantities of game birds and to consume even larger quantities of intoxicating liquors. She closed the book and reached for a volume of Fordyce’s Sermons.

The following Tuesday, when her niece made her weekly visit, Lady Catherine inclined her head in the direction of the morning room table. “You may retrieve the novel you so kindly brought for me. I found it quite stupid.”

“Why, Aunt, you did not enjoy the story?”

“My dear Jane, I did not attempt to read the story, after encountering the absurd premise given in the first line.”

“But, Aunt, it is a most delightful tale of obstacles overcome on the way to achieving happiness in marriage.”

“In that case, I am glad I did not continue reading. It is my firm belief that literature should seek to uphold the virtues of an ordered society, not indulge the wanton emotions of parlor maids. Happiness in marriage, indeed!”

“I assure you, Aunt, that the books of this author serve not only to entertain but instruct. Perhaps you might enjoy another of her works.”

“Her works? The author is a woman?”

“A lady, Aunt, as is indicated on the title page.”

“An error, no doubt, of the printer. A lady does not compose works of fiction.”

“No doubt it is as you say, Aunt. But the books are nevertheless edifying.”

“Give me an example of what you presume to be an edifying lesson.”

“Here is another novel, in which a young woman of good family is persuaded to deny her suitor because he is poor.”

“The proper course of action, indeed.”

“That is not the outcome, however. The suitor acquires glory and fortune in the Navy, returns after ten years to woo his first love, and convinces her to marry him.”

“Absurd. Mature men should, and do, marry girls of child-bearing age, to ensure healthy offspring. It is apparent that the author has no experience of actual life.”

Jane appeared to sink in her chair. Lady Catherine lightly touched the back of her niece’s hand. “Don’t take on so, Jane. When you are married, and have acquired some experience of the world, I’m sure you will concur in my opinion. And sit up straight, my dear, good posture is the foundation of a good life.”

“I understand, Aunt, for you have told me oftimes, that I require the firm influence of a husband to mold my taste and understanding, and I look forward eagerly to undergoing such edification. To that end, perhaps I might interest you in another of the author’s works. It tells the story of a giddy young girl named Emma who is gently instructed in proper behavior by an upstanding friend of the family. In her gratitude, and with full understanding of the man’s virtues, she marries him.”

“Now that,” replied Lady Catherine, with a sharp nod, “appears to be a sound tale. How are the moral lessons portrayed?”

“Most amusingly,” said her niece, sitting up in her chair. “The young heroine attempts to arrange a marriage for her friend, with disastrous consequences. The hero shows her the errors of her schemes.”

“Quite right. An unmarried woman should not attempt to settle such affairs on her own. Once she is married, however, such activity is rightly within her purview.”

“And then,” said Jane, “she speaks sharply to a poor and garrulous woman in the village, and is rebuked by the hero for her behavior.”

“Quite ridiculous. A gentlewoman is privileged to speak as she pleases, to the poorer classes, without the interference of anyone, man or woman. I cannot countenance any further discussion of this ‘lady’ author.” Lady Catherine rang for tea. “I trust that you will refrain in the future from reading fiction with such subversive intent. Please take this copy of Fordyce’s Sermons, wherein you will learn the proper ordering of society.”