by Eliza Gordon
Mr Bingley, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could regard with any sense of pleasure. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his attention to her most pleasing. He prevented Elizabeth herself from feeling so much an intruder, which is how she believed she was considered by the others.
She had very little notice from any but him.
Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. Darcy, practically throwing herself at him. Mrs. Hurst scarcely less so even though her husband sat with them. As for Mr. Hurst, by whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to eat, drink, and play at cards.
When dinner was over, Elizabeth returned to Jane, and she heard young Caroline Bingley begin to abuse her as soon as she walked out of the room.
"She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild."
"She did, indeed, Louisa. I could hardly maintain impassive decorum so tempted was I to laugh. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she scamper about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair, so untidy, so blowsy!"
That was enough, Elizabeth did not dally to hear more, she knew the sort of thing they were about to say.
Jane was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not leave her side until late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her sleep.
Elizabeth returned to the others downstairs, not because she wanted to but because it seemed right rather than pleasant.
On entering the drawing-room, she found the whole group playing cards. She declined the invitation to join them. She gave the excuse that her sister might need her soon. She said she would amuse herself for a short time, with a book.
Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment. "Do you prefer reading to cards? That is rather singular."
"Miss Eliza Bennet despises cards. She is a great reader, and finds no pleasure in anything else," Caroline Bingley announced to the men.
"I deserve neither such praise nor such disapproval," cried Elizabeth. "I am not a great reader, and I take pleasure in many things."
"In nursing your sister I am sure you have found pleasure, which I hope it will be soon increased by seeing her quite well," said Mr. Bingley.
Elizabeth thanked him from her heart and then walked towards the table where there were a few books.
Mr. Bingley immediately offered to fetch her others—all that his library afforded. "And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit. Though I have not many books, I am an idle fellow, and I have more than I have ever looked into."
Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself with those in the room.
"I am astonished that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!" said Miss Bingley.
What was the purpose of the comment? Elizabeth wondered. Did Miss Bingley hope such flattery would win her favourable attention from Mr. Darcy or was the purpose to stake her claim to the man? Was it her way of informing Elizabeth that she, Miss Bennet, was familiar with Mr. Darcy's home.
"It ought to be good, it has been the work of many generations," Mr. Darcy replied.
"And then you have added so much to it yourself; you are always buying books."
"I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these."
"Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley."
"I wish it may."
"But I would tell you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire."
"With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it," Mr. Bingley said.
"I am talking about possibilities, Charles."
"Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation."
Elizabeth was so much caught with what passed, to leave her very little attention for her book; she soon lay it wholly aside. She drew near the card-table and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest sister, to observe the game and listen in on the conversation.
"Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?" asked Miss Bingley. "Will she be as tall as I am?"
"I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or rather taller."
"How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a pretty girl, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite."
"It is amazing to me how young ladies can have the patience to be so very accomplished as they all are," said Bingley.
"All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?"
"Yes, all of them. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this. And I am sure I never heard of a young lady for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished."
"Ha! So that is your list of accomplishments," said Darcy, he sat back in his chair looking more than usually conceited. "The word is applied to many a woman who only came by it because she did some commonplace women's thing. But I am very far from agreeing with your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen that are accomplished. Not in the whole range of my acquaintance."
"Nor I, I am sure," said Miss Bingley.
Elizabeth could not help but feel annoyed at the turn of conversation and at the way Miss Bingley agreed with the arrogant Mr. Darcy.
"Then, Mr. Darcy, you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of what is an accomplished woman," observed Elizabeth.
"Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it," Mr. Darcy agreed.
"Oh! Certainly," cried his faithful assistant, Miss Bingley. "No one can be really accomplished unless they greatly surpass the usual. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word. She must also have a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions. Without all this, the word will be but half-deserved."
Darcy nodded along in agreement. "All this she must own, and to all this, she must yet add something more substantial. She must improve her mind by extensive reading." His eyes flickered down to the book that Elizabeth had set down as she joined in their conversation.
Elizabeth chuckled. "I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."
"Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?" Mr Hurst asked with surprise.
Elizabeth decided she could not bother to attempt to address Mr Hurst's level of stupid. Instead, she spoke to the intellect that she had noticed in Mr. Darcy. "I never saw such an accomplished woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you described."
Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt. They both protested that they knew many women who answered this description. In doing so, Miss Bingley contradicted what she'd said only minutes earlier in her eagerness to agree with every word uttered by Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Hurst called the sisters to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention to what he thought was going forward. As all conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth collected the book and left the room. Undoubtedly, leaving the women to discuss her in scathing terms.
Chapter 7
After passing most of the night in her sister's room, in the morning Elizabeth requested a note be sent to Longbourn, asking her mother visit. The note was immediately dispatched.
Jane seemed much improved. Better than she was, but by no means in good health.
Accompanied by her two youngest girls, Mrs. Bennet reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfas
t.
Still, Mrs. Bennet insisted Jane stay rather than undertake the journey home. "She is a great deal too ill to be moved. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness."
"Removed!" cried Bingley. "You must not think it. I am sure my sister will not hear of her removal."
Of course, Mrs. Bennet also sought clarity on Mr. Bingley's intentions. "You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect over the gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease."
Mr. Bingley replied, "Whatever I do is done in a hurry. If I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself quite fixed here."
"That is exactly what I should have supposed of you," said Elizabeth.
"You begin to comprehend me, do you?" He turned towards her.
"Oh! yes—I understand you perfectly," she repeated with a small nod of agreement.
"I wish I might take this as a compliment; but for anyone to see through me so easily is, I am afraid, pitiful."
"Lizzy, remember where you are and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home," cried Mrs. Bennet.
"I did not know before that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study," continued Bingley.
"The country can in general supply but a few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society," said Darcy.
"But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them forever."
"Yes, indeed," cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by Darcy's manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. "I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town."
Everybody was surprised, and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away.
Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph. "I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is it not, Mr. Bingley?"
"When I am in the country, I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same," he replied. "They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either."
"Aye—that is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman," she looked at Darcy, "seemed to think the country was nothing at all."
"Indeed, you are mistaken." Elizabeth blushed, mortified by the need to contradict Mrs. Bennet who was beginning to appear foolish. "You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there was not such a variety of people in the country as in the town. You must acknowledge this is true."
"Certainly, my dear, nobody said otherwise. As to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families."
Twenty-four families!
She could give them a number!
Nothing but concern for the Bennet sisters could explain how Bingley kept his composure, though he turned his face away. His sister was less delicate and directed her eyes towards Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile.
For the sake of saying something that might turn her mother's thoughts, Elizabeth asked if Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn lately.
"Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley, is he not? So much the man of fashion! So genteel and easy! He always has something to say to everybody. That is my idea of good breeding. Those persons who fancy themselves very important, and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter."
"Did Charlotte Lucas dine with you?"
"No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince-pies. For my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their own work. My daughters are brought up very differently. But everybody is to judge for themselves, and the Lucases are good girls, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte so very plain—but then she is our particular friend."
"She seems a very pleasant young woman."
"Oh! Dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so and envied me Jane's beauty. I do not like to boast of my child, but to be sure, Jane—one rarely sees anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my impartiality. When she was only fifteen, there was a man at my brother Gardiner's in town so much in love with her that my sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. But he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were."
The brazen way Mrs. Bennet missed no opportunity to promoted Jane and denigrated others must have been evident to all.
"And so ended his affection," Elizabeth said impatiently. "There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered poetry was best for driving away love!"
"I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love," said Darcy. "Poetry and music, of course. Must not forget music is the food of love."
"The food of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it is only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away."
Darcy only smiled. The general pause which ensued made Elizabeth tremble lest her mother should expose herself again. She longed to speak but could think of nothing to say. After a short silence, Mrs. Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to Jane, with an apology for troubling him.
Mr. Bingley was unaffectedly civil, and forced his younger sister to be civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part indeed without much graciousness.
As they were about to leave, Mrs. Bennet's younger daughters stepped forward to remind Mr. Bingley of his promise to give a ball at Netherfield.
A stout, well-grown girl of fifteen with a fine complexion, Lydia was good-humoured and had high animal spirits, and natural self-assurance. Lydia had no qualms about addressing Mr. Bingley on the subject of the ball and abruptly reminded him of his promise. It would be the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it.
His answer to this sudden attack must have delighted Mrs. Bennet's ear.
"I am ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement. When your sister is recovered, you must, if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing when she is ill."
Lydia declared herself satisfied. "Oh! Yes. It would be much better to wait till Jane is well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter would be at Meryton again. And when you have given your ball, I will insist on their giving one also." She added, "I will tell Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not."
Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned to Jane.
Yet again, in no doubt that the others would have plenty to say about her and the Bennet family.
Chapter 8
The day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who continued to mend slowly. In the evening Elizabeth joined their party in the drawing-room. The card-table did not appear.
Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley sat near him, attentively watching the progress of his letter. She repeatedly called out messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing their game.
Elizabeth took up some needlework and was amused by what passed between Darcy and his companion.
Perpetual commendations by the lady, either on his handwriting, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length of his letter. The perfect unconcern with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue and was exactly in unison with her opinion of each.
"How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!"
/>
He made no answer.
"You write uncommonly fast," said Miss Bingley.
"You are mistaken. I write rather slowly."
"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!"
"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours."
"Pray tell your sister that I long to see her."
"I have already told her so once, by your desire."
"I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well."
"Thank you—but I always mend my own."
"How can you contrive to write so even?"
He was silent.
"Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp. And pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table. I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley's."
"Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At present, I have not room to do them justice."
At this latest comment, Elizabeth could no longer contain her amusement much as she tried to stifle a small laugh.
"Oh! It is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?"
"They are generally long, but whether always charming it is not for me to determine."
"It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with ease, cannot write ill."
"That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline," cried her brother, "because he does not write with ease. He studies too much for words of four syllables. Is not that true, Darcy?"
"My style of writing is very different from yours."
"Oh!" cried Miss Bingley, "Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest."