by Eliza Gordon
"Pride is a very common failing," observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections. "I believe, human nature is particularly prone to it. Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used as if interchangeable. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us."
Impressed, Elizabeth thought about the young woman's wise words.
"If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine a day," cried a young Lucas, who came with his sisters.
"Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought," said Mrs. Bennet. "If I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle directly."
The boy protested that she should not. She continued to declare that she would.
The argument ended only with the visit.
Chapter 4
A round of social meeting ensued involving the Bingley family and the Bennets. It was as if one family courted another rather than two individuals considering dating. Jane received attention with great pleasure.
Mr Binley's sisters, Louisa and Caroline, were always polite, up to a point. Elizabeth saw haughty arrogance in the sister's treatment of everybody. Elizabeth could not like them; even though they were kind to Jane. Elizabeth felt they were only kind to Jane because she had their brother's admiration.
It was generally evident whenever they met, that Mr. Bingley greatly admired Jane.
To Elizabeth, Jane's increasing interested in the man was equally evident, to the extent that she seemed very much in love. A love that was unlikely to be discovered by the world in general.
With composure and a uniform cheerful manner, Jane concealed her great strength of feeling. Her temperament would guard her against the suspicions of the impertinent.
Elizabeth mentioned this to her friend Charlotte Lucas.
"It may be pleasant to deny the public a glimpse of your heart, but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded," replied Charlotte.
She explained, "If a woman conceals her affection with skill from the man who is the object of her affections, she may lose her opportunity with him. It will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark about her feelings. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, such that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freely—a slight preference is natural enough. But there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better show more affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly, but he may never do more than like her if she does not help him on."
"But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If I can perceive her regard for him, he must be aware of it too."
"Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane's disposition as you do."
"But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to conceal it, he will find out."
"Yes, he must if he sees enough of her. But, though Bingley and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together. They always see each other in large mixed parties; it is impossible that every moment is employed in conversing together. Jane should make the most of every half-hour in which she can command his attention. When she is secure of him, there will be more leisure for falling in love as much as she chooses."
"Your plan is a good one where nothing is in question but the desire of being well married," replied Elizabeth. "If I were determined to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But these are not Jane's feelings; she is not acting by design.
She cannot even be certain of her own feelings for him, or whether what feelings she has are reasonable. She has known him only weeks. She danced four dances with him at Meryton. She saw him one morning at his own house and has since dined with him in company four times. This is not quite enough to make her understand his character."
"Not as you represent it. If she merely dined with him, she might only have discovered whether he had a good appetite. You must remember that they spent four evenings together—and in four evenings a couple may do a great deal."
"Yes; these four evenings have enabled them to find out what they have in common. They both prefer one certain card game over another, but I do not imagine that much has unfolded about any other thing of importance."
"Well, I wish Jane success with all my heart," said Charlotte. "If she married to him tomorrow, I should think she would have as good a chance of matrimonial bliss as any. If she studied his character for a full year, it would not improve her chance at happiness. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the parties are similar and their dispositions known to each other beforehand, it does not advance their joy in the least. They can grow unalike over the years ahead. It is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life."
"You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself." For Charlotte's views always seemed too advanced for the time.
A few days later at Sir William Lucas's, a large party assembled.
Sensing Mr. Darcy listening to her conversation with others. She turned her attention to him. "Did you think when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton that I expressed myself well just now?"
"With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a lady energetic," he replied.
"You are severe on us."
"It will be her turn soon to be teased," said her friend Charlotte Lucas. "I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows."
"You are a very strange creature by way of a friend. Always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable. As it is, I would rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers."
Miss Lucas persevered until Elizabeth relented.
"Very well, if it must be so, it must." She glanced at Mr. Darcy. "There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is familiar with, 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge', and I will keep mine to swell my song."
Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her sister Mary. Mary seemed always impatient for display.
The girls had joined in dancing at one end of the room with some of the Lucases, and two or three officers. Mr. Darcy stood near them.
When he saw her not dancing, Sir William Lucas said, "My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance; I am sure when so much beauty is before you."
Taking her hand, he obviously would have offered it to Mr. Darcy who, though extremely surprised, appeared not unwilling to receive it.
She instantly drew back. With some discomposure, she said to Sir William, "Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I did not move in this direction to beg for a partner."
Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested the honour of her hand, but in vain. Elizabeth was determined.
Sir William attempted persuasion. "You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you. And though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, to oblige us for one half-hour."
He failed to shake her purpose.
"Mr. Darcy is all politeness," said Elizabeth, smiling.
"He is, indeed. My dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his willingness to do things. Consider the inducement, who would object to you as a partner?"
Elizabeth looked archly and turned away.
Chapter 5
The village of Longbour
n was only a short walk to Meryton, one mile away.
The young ladies were usually tempted thither three or four times a week. They would visit their aunt, Mrs. Phillips, and go to a milliner's shop just over the way.
The local gossip about the comings and goings within the vicinity made a significant contribution to what passed for entertainment.
At present, indeed, they were well supplied both with news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in the neighbourhood. It was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was the headquarters.
Their visits to Mrs. Phillips were now productive of the most interesting intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of the officers' names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret, and at length, they began to know the officers themselves.
Mr. Phillips visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a store of previously unknown joy. Talk of officers and Mr. Bingley's large fortune made the content of most conversations.
While the mention of a fortune gave animation to Mrs. Bennet, it was worthless in the girl's eyes when next to the military uniform.
After listening one morning to the youngest daughter's effusions on this subject, Mr. Bennet coolly observed, "From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced."
Catherine was disconcerted and made no answer.
With perfect indifference, Lydia continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter. She hoped to see him in the course of the day, as he was going the next morning to London.
"I am astonished, that you should be so ready to think your own children as silly," said Mrs. Bennet. "If I wished to think slightingly of anybody's children, it should not be of my own."
"If my children are silly, I must hope that I am always sensible enough to know it," replied Mr. Bennet.
"Yes, I can agree with you on that—but as it happens, they are all very clever."
"This is the only point on which we do not agree. I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I think our two youngest daughters uncommonly foolish, and so must differ from you."
Elizabeth was most disheartened to hear the Bennets speak of their daughters this way. The young girls were no more juvenile or silly than was right for their age. Elizabeth was highly aware of the pressure to find a secure future for a young woman. But still, they were young girls indulging in flights of fancy.
"My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of their father and mother. When they get to our age, I dare say they will not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I liked a red coat myself very well. Indeed, so I do still at my heart. If a smart young colonel should want one of my girls, I will not say nay to him if he has a solid income. And I thought Colonel Forster looked very becoming in his regimentals the other night at Sir William's."
Elizabeth giggled. A man with money and income was desirable, and a uniform was a bonus, she thought.
"Mamma," cried Lydia, "my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson's as they did when they first came. She sees them now very often standing in Clarke's library."
The entrance of the footman prevented Mrs. Bennet from replying. He brought a note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited for an answer.
While her daughter read to herself, Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled with pleasure. "Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say?"
"It is from Miss Bingley," said Jane, and then read it aloud.
"MY DEAR FRIEND,—
"If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives. A whole day's tete-a-tete between two women can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.—Yours ever,
"CAROLINE BINGLEY"
"With the officers!" cried Lydia. "I wonder my aunt did not tell us of that."
"Dining out," said Mrs. Bennet, "that is very unlucky."
"Can I have the carriage?" said Jane.
"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night."
"That would be a good scheme if you were sure that they would not offer to send her home." Elizabeth wondered if she should share this thought only after she'd said it.
Jane was obliged to go on horseback; she had not been gone long before it rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission; Jane certainly could not come back.
"This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!" said Mrs. Bennet more than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own.
The next morning, however, the full joy of her contrivance became apparent. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought a note for Elizabeth.
"MY DEAREST Lizzy,—
"I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning till I am better. They also insist on my seeing Mr. Jones.
Therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me. Excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the matter with me.—Yours, etc."
"Well, my dear," said Mr. Bennet, "if your daughter died, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders."
"Oh! I am not afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the carriage."
Feeling anxious, Elizabeth was determined to go check on Jane and walking was her only option.
"How can you be so silly?" asked her mother. "Think of such a thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there."
"I shall be very fit to see Jane—which is all I want," Elizabeth retorted.
"Is this a hint to me, Lizzy, to send for the horses?" asked her father.
"No, indeed, I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back for dinner."
"I admire your kindness, but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason," observed Mary. "In my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required."
"We will go as far as Meryton with you," said Catherine and Lydia.
Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off together.
"If we make haste perhaps we may see something of Captain Carter before he goes, said Lydia, as they walked along. Of course, those girls had ulterior motives.
In Meryton, they parted. The two youngest went to the lodgings of one of the officers' wives. Elizabeth continued alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatience. Finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.
She was shown into the breakfast-parlour, where all but Jane were assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise.
Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley found it incredible that she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself. They received Elizabeth politely but appeared contemptuous of her action.
Their brother, Mr Bingley, showed considerably better manners. Better than politeness, there was good humour and kindness too.
Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst nothing at all. The latter appeared only concerned with his breakfast.
The answers to Elizabeth's inquiries after her sister were not favourable.
Miss Jane Bennet had slept ill, and though up, she was very feverish, and not well enough to leave her room.
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Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her immediately.
Jane appeared delighted at her entrance. She was not fit for much conversation. When Miss Bingley left them together, Jane only expressed gratitude for how they had treated her. She said they showed extraordinary kindness.
Elizabeth silently attended her.
When breakfast was over, they were joined by the sisters. Elizabeth began to like them herself when she saw how much affection and thoughtfulness they showed for Jane.
The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be supposed. She had caught a violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it. He advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts.
The advice was followed readily, the feverish symptoms increased, and her head ached acutely.
Elizabeth stayed with Jane, and the other ladies were most often there too. The gentlemen being out, they had, in fact, nothing to do elsewhere.
When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and very unwillingly said so.
Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and Elizabeth accepted it. However, when Jane testified such concern in parting with her sister, Miss Bingley converted the offer of the chaise to an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present.
Elizabeth most thankfully consented. A servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay and bring back a supply of clothes.
Chapter 6
At five o'clock the two sisters retired to dress, and at half-past six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. Civil inquiries then poured in, and Elizabeth noticed a great deal of genuine concern from Mr. Bingley's. Unfortunately, she could not make a very favourable answer.
Jane was by no means better.
On hearing this, the Bingley sisters repeated three or four times how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill themselves. But then they thought no more of the matter when Jane was not immediately before them. Their indifference restored Elizabeth's conviction that these were shallow, self-centred women who did not care much about Jane.