A few days later, Mr Ryder presented himself at Gracechurch Street to drink his promised cup of tea. Mary had not imagined that he would act upon his invitation so promptly; but here he was, sitting on Mrs Gardiner’s sofa, sipping her best china tea. He was as tall as Mr Hayward, but fair-haired where his friend was dark, with a bright-eyed, agile face, and an air of expansive good nature that made him somehow appear to take up a great deal of space in the neatly decorated room. He was completely at his ease, complimenting Mrs Gardiner on the excellence of her taste, and the advantages of a window looking straight onto the street, where every variety of human experience was to be seen passing by.
‘Not quite every variety, I hope. This is one of the better parts of the city.’
‘Yes, ma’am, but who can say what range of emotions may be concealed behind the severe expressions of even our most respectable citizens? The shopkeeper may feel as deeply as the poet, even if his features do not reveal it.’
Mrs Gardiner agreed a little reluctantly this might indeed be so and promised to attend more closely to the physiognomies of her neighbours in future. Mary poured out more tea.
‘Mr Hayward tells me that you share his passion for poetry, sir?’
‘Yes, we learned to love it together while we pored over our law books. I sometimes think it was the only thing that prevented me doing away with myself!’
‘Really, Mr Ryder!’ exclaimed Mrs Gardiner.
‘Well, perhaps I exaggerate a little.’
‘Did you find the law so very uncongenial?’ asked Mary.
‘I’m afraid so. A temperament such as mine isn’t suited to the tedium of it.’
‘I understand your circumstances do not require you to practise some profession,’ said Mrs Gardiner.
‘I’m very glad to say they do not. I am lucky enough to be master of my own time; and when I see how hard Tom works, I fully appreciate my good fortune. Now, Miss Bennet, I think it is time for me to discover something about you. Hayward says you are a great reader of serious books. Please tell me which are your favourites and why.’
He put down his cup, folded his arms and waited. Mary had not expected to be interrogated and grew a little flustered under his scrutiny.
‘As to my favourites – well, it is hard to say – I shall always hold Mrs Macaulay in high esteem. Mr Hume too of course. The histories and some of the philosophical works. And I have just begun upon something new, Mr Godwin’s Political Justice. I thought it would be good to read a work written so recently, that speaks to our times.’
‘Are you are a radical, then, Miss Bennet? That is a most dangerous and revolutionary book, I believe.’
Mary turned away, refusing to rise to his teasing manner, and sought diversion amongst the tea things.
‘That is its reputation, but it is in fact a very sober, thoughtful work,’ she said, pouring hot water into the teapot. ‘It contains some very interesting ideas about how relations between men and women might be improved, if a more rational scheme of behaviour was adopted by society in general.’
Mr Ryder’s air of playful condescension had irked her; but she hoped she had not sounded too pompous in reply. Mr Ryder, however, did not seem in the least put out.
‘I’m afraid Mr Godwin’s book is far too long for me,’ he replied, holding out his cup for more tea. ‘I only do well with short works. And I have very little time for philosophies based purely on reason, especially when they attempt to reform relations between the sexes. In affairs between men and women, the only thing that should guide us is the heart.’
‘I believe that makes you as great an enemy to polite society as Mr Godwin,’ declared Mrs Gardiner. ‘If there are to be no rules except what we feel at the time, the result will be nothing but anarchy.’
‘Yes, that is a point of view,’ said Mr Ryder genially, nevertheless implying it was not one he shared himself. ‘But there are many others who would welcome such a change – who would embrace it, as ushering in a long-overdue freedom. I am myself in favour of sweeping away the tired old rules that constrain the natural expressions of our souls – and of replacing them with liberty to follow one’s inclinations, as and when one wishes.’
‘I think you will find, Mr Ryder,’ interrupted Mrs Gardiner, ‘that the liberty in such a situation tends to be enjoyed by the man, while the consequences are borne – quite literally, in many cases – by the woman. Now, unless we change the subject, I shall have to declare my modesty affronted and ring the bell. Let us talk of something else.’
With an amused glance at Mary, which she once again refused to return, Mr Ryder readily agreed, apologising if he had offended, and declaring himself happy to speak of something else. Mary could not but admire the charm with which he managed the transition – for soon they were safely immersed in conversations of a kind far more proper for the tea table. From these, Mary and her aunt learned that Mr Ryder was indeed a connection of Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s, and that it was at Rosings, her house in Kent, that he had first become acquainted with Miss Bingley. He understood now that she and Miss Bennet were related by marriage. Mary did not like to imagine the relish with which she was sure Caroline Bingley had recounted to him the details of the less creditable events in the Bennet family’s recent history. But then, she told herself, if Mr Ryder was such an advocate for following one’s passions, perhaps Lydia’s elopement would not strike him as so very wrong?
The visit went on agreeably enough to the moment when it was appropriate for Mr Ryder to take his leave; he understood perfectly when this moment was reached and departed just before it would have been necessary to hint to him that it was time to go. Mrs Gardiner lay back in her chair and threw her feet onto the sofa opposite her, uttering a great sigh of relief.
‘Heaven preserve me from wild young men with dangerous ideas!’
‘Do you really think him wild or dangerous?’ asked Mary. ‘I agree his ideas about men and women were somewhat unorthodox, but beyond that, he did not seem disagreeable. And Mr Hayward says he has a good heart.’
‘His being agreeable and his having a good heart, which I do not deny he may possess, makes him more not less of a risk to impressionable young women. And of course, he is very good-looking, if you don’t mind a broader type of build.’
‘I cannot say I took much notice of his looks.’
‘If that is so, then I’m glad to hear it. But I think he noticed yours.’
Mary put down her cup, genuinely surprised.
‘My looks? What do you mean? There is never anything to notice about me.’
‘If that was once the case, it is not so now. You are nicely turned out, all spick and span, and you smile a great deal more than you used to. Some might say there is a positive bloom about you.’
Mary was both pleased and embarrassed, and not wishing her aunt to see either emotion, she looked determinedly down at her shoes.
‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘I hope you’ll accept it as a compliment, which was what I intended. But’ – Mrs Gardiner leaned forward, her expression serious – ‘do, I beg you, be a little wary of Mr Ryder. An unworldly girl like you can be very appealing to young man who fancies himself beyond the rules that govern the rest of us. There may be no harm in him. But do keep a little distance. Especially as there is someone of infinitely more value so close at hand.’
Mary had resolved some time ago that she would not allow herself to blush again; it seemed such a sign of weakness. But she felt herself redden under her aunt’s mild smile. A few seconds of silence ensued, while Mrs Gardiner waited to see if Mary would speak; but when she saw Mary would not do so, she continued briskly on, as though nothing had happened.
‘Well, that is the end of my little sermon. But it is said in fondness, you know.’