Chapter 2

Posted on: 2011-09-05

The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit was returned in due form. Miss Bennet's pleasing manners grew on the good will of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; the latter in particular most concerned to provide Lady Eleanor with company suitable to one of such elevated rank. That their guest did not scruple to speak with admiration of the second Miss Bennet could only improve that lady in their own estimations. Though Mrs. Bennet was found to be intolerable, and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, a wish of being better acquainted with them was expressed towards the two eldest.

Elizabeth could not like Mr. Bingley's sisters, but saw that their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value as arising in all probability from the influence of their brother's admiration. To Elizabeth it was evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which she had begun to entertain for Mr. Bingley from the first; but she considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general. She mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas.

"It may perhaps be pleasant," replied Charlotte, "to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark."

"Then you would have the lady court the gentleman instead of the other way round," said Lady Eleanor, having been stood near enough to overhear their conversation.

"It is my belief that, in nine cases out of ten, a woman had better show more affection than she feels. Bingley likes Miss Bennet undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on."

"But how would you have Miss Bennet behave? Surely you would not wish her to indulge in vulgar flirtation."

"Only that Jane should make the most of every half-hour in which she can command his attention. Though they meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and as they always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be employed in conversing together. When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling in love as much as she chooses."

"Your plan is a good one," replied Elizabeth, "where nothing is in question but the desire of being well married; and 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."

"I quite agree," said Lady Eleanor. "Having only known him a fortnight she cannot know him well enough to make her understand his character. Though they appear well-matched in temperament, marriage is too important a decision for a woman to make lightly."

"Then how should it be made? If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or ever so similar before-hand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance."

"I cannot agree with you, Miss Lucas. Our habits may change, but our natures do not. Miss Bennet will always be modest and Mr. Bingley always amiable. What else Mr. Bingley may be and what flaws are hidden beneath his friendly manner are what she must determine; and whether such a man would continue to be acceptable to her when the delights of courtship have passed. As women, we are far more disadvantaged in marriage than men; it is better to know as much as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life."

"I cannot say which is worse," said Elizabeth, smiling. "To willingly enter into a union without ascertaining more than that both like Vingt-un better than Commerce or to judge a man solely on his defects with little hope for felicity."

"And how would you manage it?" asked Lady Eleanor.

"Expectations of happiness in marriage may be rationally founded when they are based on mutual esteem and true affection, but most importantly excellent understanding. That she would know him better before engaging her heart is credit to her good sense."

"There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself," said Miss Lucas. "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."

"And yet, a man who gives such encouragement without a genuine attachment is called a rake. You would make of Miss Bennet a dishonest woman."

Elizabeth was thus confirmed in her opinion of Lady Eleanor's disagreeable nature and determination to find fault with everyone. She was less certain of the character of Mr. Darcy. His silence did not encourage greater study, but Elizabeth was determined to learn something of the man. An opportunity arose when she spied him standing nearby the group she was speaking with, so close as to be suspected of eavesdropping.

"Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?"

"With great energy; but it is a subject which always makes a lady energetic."

"You are severe on us."

"It will be her turn soon to be teased," said Miss 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; but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers." When they were far enough not to be heard, she whispered, "Why did you take me away from there? I had only just managed to engage Mr. Darcy in conversation."

"I was afraid you would frighten him off. He is a shy creature, in need of gentle converse, not impudent teasing."

"And how, pray tell, have you developed this insight into his character? We have heard no more than one sentence from him all evening."

"That is precisely why I think him shy. He was listening, but not speaking. How else do you explain it?"

"Perhaps he thinks our company beneath him."

"Then he could have stayed at Netherfield, or at least kept to a corner of the room. No, I am quite certain that he was interested."

By then the pianoforte was opened and the performer seated, necessitating an end to conversation in that part of the room. Miss Lucas, however, took the opportunity to approach Mr. Darcy on her own. "I hope you are not too disappointed in the performance. We do not have the benefit of London masters hereabout."

"Not at all, Miss Lucas. I find Miss Elizabeth's style of playing quite pleasant. She has a natural feel for the music that cannot be taught."

Charlotte was well pleased to discover that the gentleman knew both her and her friend's names. He could not have learnt so much had he truly been a disinterested observer.

Lady Eleanor approached the two. "Has my cousin deigned to speak, Miss Lucas?"

"He has indeed; and most civilly, too."

Darcy merely smiled, until Miss Bingley appeared and took his arm. "Mr. Darcy, there is the most terrible dispute, something about the war. We simply must have your opinion to settle the matter, for there is no one else of such sound judgment to be found." She nodded to Lady Eleanor and led him away, making no acknowledgement of Miss Lucas.

"Does that happen to him often?"

"Constantly. The poor man is positively hounded."

"Perhaps that is why he is so hesitant to make new acquaintances. He seems amiable enough once he makes a start."

Eleanor very nearly contradicted her host's eldest daughter before deciding that Darcy might be less difficult if he could avoid the dislike of the neighbourhood. "How very insightful. Tell me, are you a great studier of characters?"

"Oh no. My friend Eliza, Miss Elizabeth Bennet that is," she nodded towards the instrument, "is far more adept at the art in general. It is the quiet characters that attract my attention. I feel that those who are reticent must be at a severe disadvantage compared to the rest of us, no matter what their station in life."

"Really? In what way?"

"Only this, that so long as others cannot discern their true thoughts or feelings, they must constantly be misunderstood."

Elizabeth was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always impatient for display. Mary had neither genius nor taste, though vanity had given her application; and she was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room.

Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too much engrossed by his own thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began --

"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies."

"Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance."

"Thus proving that a gentleman is little more than a savage with a better tailor," said Lady Eleanor, joining the gentlemen. "Come, Darcy, I wish to dance. Surely your Fitzwilliam blood cannot resist the temptation of a reel."

With a nod to his host, that gentleman escorted his cousin to the dance. He danced the next with Miss Lucas and another with Miss Bingley before pleading exhaustion. "Have I redeemed myself, Ellie?"

"You have made a start."

Chapter 3

Posted on: 2011-09-10

On hearing that her sister Jane had taken ill while visiting with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, Elizabeth was determined to go to her, though the carriage was not to be had; and as she was no horsewoman, walking was her only alternative. She declared her resolution.

Despite her mother's objections, it was quickly agreed. "We will go as far as Meryton with you," said Catherine and Lydia. Elizabeth accepted their company, and waited as they gathered their things.

"I will send the carriage for you this afternoon, for I fear I will not hear a word of sense spoken in this house until you return," Mr. Bennet said.

"Whereas I shall hear a great deal of sense, but none of it pleasant."

"You speak of Mr. Bingley's sisters?"

"And Lady Eleanor. She has a critical eye and a sharp tongue."

"I flatter myself that you could say the same of me. Have you not always found amusement in such characters? I should not wish to think you so missish as to be offended by mere incivility. Or has the lady managed to offend you somehow?"

"There is amusement to be found in all characters, though I am afraid she is not foolish enough to satisfy your tastes. It is only that she can be unpleasant in her manner of expression. She said that Charlotte would have Jane dishonest in trying to secure Mr. Bingley out of prudence. No one who knows Jane could accuse her of acting in such a manner, but it is too faithful a portrait of our mother's wishes for my comfort. Lady Eleanor does not temper her observations with civility and cares not who she offends. I would not leave Jane to her tender mercies."

Elizabeth arrived at Netherfield after a three mile walk, looking somewhat worse for the wear, and was directed to her sister's room.

"I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it not doing its office," Caroline commented.

"Your picture may be very exact, Caroline," said Bingley; "but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well, when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice."

"You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure," said Miss Bingley, "and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition."

Eleanor fixed her eyes on Darcy.

"Certainly not," he replied evenly.

"A wish you are not likely to be granted, at least not at Pemberley, for she appeared in just such a manner almost daily when I was there last."

"We were among family. Therefore, it was not an exhibition."

"Then it is acceptable to appear in a muddy petticoat in some situations, but not others."

"Caring for an ailing family member must certainly be one such situation, for it shows a very pleasing sisterly affection," said Bingley.

"It does indeed," said Eleanor. "I know that if I were the one ill, I would wish for such attention, regardless of the state of the fields."

Caroline Bingley addressed her sister, hoping to turn the conversation to more productive directions. "I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton."

"Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside."

"That is capital," added her sister, and they both laughed heartily.

"If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside," cried Bingley, "it would not make them one jot less agreeable."

"But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world," replied Darcy.

"Connections are terribly important," Eleanor agreed, much to Mr. Bingley's sisters' satisfaction. "This afternoon I happened to be perusing your copy of Debrett's. Do you know that there is not one single Bingley in the entire peerage? Tell me, Miss Bingley, who are your connections?"

"We are well known in town."

"I am quite familiar with your habit of gaining entry to society events, the question was your connections. What is your father's estate?"

"Our father died some years ago," Mrs. Hurst interjected.

"My condolences on your loss. But that still does not answer the question. If your father is deceased, why is your brother leasing an estate? Was your father not a gentleman?"

The silence was finally broken by Eleanor. "Really, Miss Bingley, can you not answer a simple question?"

"My father's money came from trade."

"His money came from trade or he was in trade? You must be precise about these things."

"Oh, very well. My father was in trade. Are you satisfied?"

"Not in the least. I find it appalling that the daughter of a mere tradesman should have the audacity to criticize the Miss Bennets, whose father is a gentleman." Turning to her cousin, she asked, "Do my parents know that we are visiting with shopkeepers, or did you keep that little bit of information from them. I am quite certain they would never have approved my accompanying you if they had known what sort of company you keep."

Darcy's face was unreadable as he replied, "I may have forgotten to communicate that fact."

Caroline Bingley began to wonder whether the honour of Lady Eleanor's company was worth the impertinence of her conversation. Guests were supposed to be agreeable, not contentious. Nor were they supposed to be present on every occasion that Mr. Darcy appeared. Miss Bingley had yet to find an opportunity to speak with that gentleman without his cousin's officious interference. If Lady Eleanor continued in this manner, Caroline Bingley would know how to act.

Chapter 4

Posted on: 2011-09-15

Jane no more wished to be left without her sister's company than Elizabeth wished to leave her. The matter was quite settled with an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay and bring back a supply of clothes.

At five o'clock Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst retired to dress, and at half-past six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. Lady Eleanor having pleaded a headache and chosen to take a tray in her room, at first, Elizabeth's only conversation was with Mr. Hurst who, when he found that she preferred a plain dish to ragout, had nothing to say to her.

Miss Bingley's effusions on the accomplishment of Mr. Darcy's sister soon turned to a general conversation on the topic of ladies' accomplishments. In accordance with their characters, Mr. Bingley held that all ladies are accomplished, Mr. Darcy claimed to know but half a dozen such, and Miss Bingley provided an extensive list of the requirements of a truly accomplished lady to support Mr. Darcy's position, a list notable for matching so exactly her own abilities. Elizabeth found the whole most amusing, particularly when Mr. Darcy further expanded Miss Bingley's list, adding that a woman could not properly be called accomplished without the regular practice of exercise to maintain her health and looks. In ensuring that none of the ladies present could meet his standards, he gave consequence to none.

After dinner, Elizabeth stayed with Jane in her room, where they were visited by Lady Eleanor.

"How are you feeling now?"

"Much the same, I am afraid, though better in spirits for my sister's loving care."

"I had meant to bring you these this afternoon," Lady Eleanor proffered a bag of comfits.3 "But I fear I have not Miss Elizabeth's constitution. Having taken her example and walked to Meryton, I found myself quite overdone on my return and forgot about them entirely."

"Perhaps it was not the distance, but the sun. It was unseasonably warm and I took my walk earlier in the day," said Elizabeth.

"That is a most pleasing thought, for I should not wish to think myself too frail for a country stroll. You must show me where I can find a shaded path, for it would be a shame to miss the beauties of this country while I am here."

"Ginger!" Jane smiled as she examined her comfits. "Just the thing for my sore throat."

"That was my thought, but if you prefer another sort you must let me know; it would be no trouble to send to town if your favourites are not to be found hereabouts."

"That is very kind of you, but I am quite partial to ginger comfits. It is a very thoughtful gift and I do thank you for it."

"Nonsense. It is unpleasant enough to be ill, one should not be deprived of small comforts at such a time;" and so saying, she bid Jane a good night and left the room.

When she had gone, Jane asked, "Now what do you think of Lady Eleanor?"

"I am all astonishment. I would not have imagined her capable of such civility."

"Do you think her so very bad?"

"In truth, I know nothing against her character; it is only her manner of speaking that I disapprove."

"Perhaps she was simply in poor spirits when you met before."

"And perhaps she saves her civilities for the sick room."

"Then you admit that she is, at the very least, compassionate?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Oh very well, I will grant you that much. But she says such things."

Being fully in her sister's confidence, Jane replied, "Terrible things indeed -- for you would never think ill of a gentleman for refusing to dance or of a lady for being mercenary."

"Then, she shall be all goodness and compassion." She allowed her sister a smile before continuing, "And ill-manners. Are you satisfied?"

"I am two parts satisfied, which is as much as can be hoped for in such a case. And what think you of her cousin?"

"His conduct is better, but he thinks himself above the company in Hertfordshire, giving no consequence to anyone who is not of his own party if he can manage to avoid it. I cannot say that I dislike him particularly, but neither have I found anything to like. He appears to have little to recommend him other than his fortune."

"Did he not dance with Charlotte? And his friendship with Mr. Bingley speaks well of him, surely."

"He did his duty to the daughter of his host; but his cousin would not have allowed him to do less. As to the other, I cannot speak on the subject, for until this evening I had never been in Mr. Bingley's company when his attentions were not directed entirely at you. How Mr. Darcy behaves with his friend is all mystery."

Further conversation was impossible, as Elizabeth was then summoned for coffee. She found that the entire party was at loo, not excepting Lady Eleanor. Declining to join them, she sat to read instead.

"Miss Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, "despises cards. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else."

"I deserve neither such praise nor such censure," cried Elizabeth; "I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things."

"In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure," replied Lady Eleanor, now much recovered. "And I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well."
"Miss Fitzwilliam is all generosity," said Miss Bingley. "No doubt she will wish to assist you with your nursing chores."
"Miss Bingley, did I hear correctly? Did you refer to your guest as Eliza? Miss Bennet, I do apologize, I was under the impression that your name was Elizabeth. Please excuse my discourtesy; I assure you it was a genuine mistake."

"On the contrary, Lady Eleanor, you were correct. It is only Miss Lucas who calls me Eliza, as she has done since we were children together."

"Is that so?" Turning her gaze to Caroline, she passed the deck to Mr. Hurst rather than dealing the next hand herself. "How fascinating. Miss Bingley, won't you take a turn about the room with me? It is so refreshing. Darcy, will not you join us?"

"I believe I can admire your figures much better from here."

Caroline looked pleased at Darcy's comment, understanding it as a compliment to herself, until Eleanor began to whisper, just loud enough to be heard by the entire room. "Allow me to give you some advice, Miss Bingley. If you wish to be accepted in society, you really must learn to know your place and not assume improper familiarity. You are not a childhood friend of Miss Elizabeth, and therefore not in a position to refer to her as such friends do. Likewise, the proper form of address for the daughter of an earl is 'lady', not 'miss'. As a member of the peerage, I precede you, even in your own home, but most particularly in your brother's, where you are merely an acting hostess and not the true mistress of the house. Were you to marry a duke and I the boot black boy, I would still precede you.4 Do you understand?"

Miss Bingley failed to pull free from Lady Eleanor's hold.

Looking pointedly at her hand on Miss Bingley's wrist, Eleanor added, "And there is another area in which your education seems to have been deficient."

"I have received the finest of educations!"

"Then you must not have attended your lessons. For example, what is the first duty of a hostess?"

"To ensure the comfort of her guests."

"Well recited, Miss Bingley, but there is more to ensuring a guest's comfort than well furnished rooms and elegant meals. Your attempts to belittle Miss Elizabeth, not only behind her back but to her very face, have not gone unnoticed by anyone in this house. You demean yourself by such pettiness."

A second attempt to free her arm was equally fruitless. Fearing that her carefully cultivated whiteness of skin would be marred by bruises, Caroline ceased her efforts.

"Contrary to your expectations, a lady does not lie about the house all day gossiping and abusing the servants. I myself ride several times each week and practice archery throughout the summer months. These activities improve both posture and carriage, as well as providing strength and poise, characteristics in which you are sadly lacking. Now, consider Miss Elizabeth."

Caroline glared at Elizabeth, who appeared to be contentedly reading before the fire. This was twice in one evening that the country miss's inclination for scampering about the countryside with no regard for fashion had been praised. No doubt the impertinent young lady was gloating over her triumph, though only the faintest hint of a smile indicated that Miss Elizabeth had any awareness of the conversation being held not three steps away.

"She has that certain grace that comes only from regular activity; you would do well to take her for a sort of model, as you might someday aspire to reach her status."

At that, Caroline could no longer stay silent. "You cannot be serious! How can you possibly compare me to that, that coarse, ill-bred country nobody?"

Eleanor stopped walking and forced Miss Bingley - whose arm had already become quite painful - to face her. "That 'country nobody' is a gentleman's daughter. She may not be of my rank, but she is of my class.5 That is far more than can be said of yourself. Furthermore, her conduct has been that of a lady, while yours has been that of a fishwife." Pulling Caroline back towards her, she sighed as she continued their walk. "I am trying to help you, but you are a very stubborn creature, Miss Bingley. You must understand that your pretensions to superiority are nothing more than that, just pretensions. If you wish to be laughed at wherever you go, please continue as you have begun; but understand that you are only granted invitations because it amuses the less kind among us to mock your folly."

With those words, she finally detached herself and went to join Darcy. This time, her whisper was inaudible to all but her cousin and the young lady reading nearby. "Was that what you had in mind?"

"Very well done. Thank you, my dear."

Elizabeth found herself incapable of reading another word. Had Mr. Darcy truly conspired with his cousin to deliberately belittle and offend their hostess; and had he intended such praise for the Bennet family as part of the plot? Though Elizabeth was no admirer of Miss Bingley, it was beyond her understanding how Lady Eleanor and Mr. Darcy could be so cruel as to toy with that lady for their own amusement - and she could find no satisfaction in the credit given her own family from such a source - for every feeling of displeasure against the cousins was thus confirmed; he was cunning, she whimsical in her civilities, and the vicious propensities of both exceeded all reason.

3 - Comfits are small, hard candies that were very popular at the time. In the Regency period they generally had a bit of something in the middle that the candy was formed around (a seed or piece of nut or dried/candied fruit were the most common) and came in many, many flavors. They were considered medicinal and, as such, were sold in apothecaries rather than confectioners. A market town like Meryton would most certainly have had an apothecary; I tend to think there wasn't a confectioners, only because I can't imagine that Lydia wouldn't have spent a great deal of Kitty's pin money there if there was one and that we would have heard about it.
4 - This is, of course, a complete untruth.
5 - The gentry, at the time, referred to anyone owning a landed estate(s) with income of at least £1000 per annum. This category made up less than 5% of the population, thus putting the Bennets and the Fitzwilliams in the same social class by one measure, though very different subclasses. The other way to look at it would be that the Fitzwilliams are titled and the Bennets are not, but that would put Darcy in the same class as the Bennets apart from the Fitzwilliams. To the extent that class was measured by wealth, the Bennets were in the upper-class.

Chapter 5

Posted on: 2011-09-24

Lady Eleanor felt poorly again the next morning and spent most of the day in her rooms. She was thus absent during the visit of Mrs. Bennet and the younger Bennet sisters, an occasion that spared Elizabeth a great deal of anxiety, as she was not certain whether the lady in question would be so officious as to scold Mrs. Bennet in the same manner she had Miss Bingley. Elizabeth was furthermore delighted to discover that, while her mother's behaviour was no better than she had feared, she herself was far less mortified than she had expected. After having observed Lady Eleanor - with the seeming approval of Mr. Darcy - treating Miss Bingley in so derisive a manner, she could not find anything her mother said to breach propriety. If the daughter of an earl could insult her hostess before company, then why should the wife of a principal landowner not express her own opinions without fear of censure?

Mrs. Bennet being satisfied that Jane's illness was not alarming - though her eldest daughter was certainly not so well as to be able to return to Longbourn - and Kitty and Lydia being well-pleased with Mr. Bingley's promise of a ball, they left Netherfield not a quarter of an hour before Charlotte Lucas came to call on Jane. That Elizabeth should share with her friend and sister all that had passed the evening before was absolutely necessary.

Jane listened with astonishment and concern; she knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr. Bingley's regard or how Mr. Bingley could be so uncaring of his sister. "It is difficult indeed -- it is distressing. One does not know what to think."

"I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think. Mr. Darcy and Lady Eleanor are the proudest, most disagreeable people in the world."

"Their pride," said Miss Lucas, "does not offend me so much as pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so very fine a young man and woman, with family, fortune, everything in their favour, should think highly of themselves. If I may so express it, they have a right to be proud."

"But there can be no such excuse for their incivility to their hostess."

"Unless we are to believe Miss Bingley has in some way offended them so greatly they have come here for just that purpose," said Miss Lucas.

"What say you, Jane? Shall we now think badly of Miss Bingley?" Elizabeth teased her sister.

"It would be difficult to avoid," said Miss Lucas seriously, "after her insults to you, Eliza."

Shaking her head, Jane replied, "But only think how upset she must have been to have said such a thing; for she has shown herself to be a most charming friend."

"Indeed, Miss Bingley may be held blameless, for I know that I could not maintain my composure if faced with such provocations. But what excuse can you manufacture for Lady Eleanor and Mr. Darcy?"

"They have," said Jane, "some reason, I dare say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented Miss Bingley to them. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side."

"Very true, indeed; -- and now, my dear sister, what have you got to say in behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the business? -- Do clear them too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of somebody."

"Laugh as much as you chose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his friend's sister in such a manner while enjoying his hospitality. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in him? -- oh! no."

"I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley's being imposed on," said Miss Lucas, "but that he did not defend his sister is more than I can easily think of so amiable a young man."

Miss Lucas had hoped to further her acquaintance with Mr. Darcy - and her purpose was not altered by the charges against his character - but she found no opportunity to encounter that gentleman in the course of the afternoon, as Elizabeth would not leave Jane's room and sat quietly stitching while her sister rested; and so Miss Lucas returned home having accomplished little and learnt only that which could not give her hope.

When at last she could avoid the company no longer, Elizabeth determined that she, at least, would treat Miss Bingley with the respect due to her as hostess. She observed with amusement as once again Miss Bingley made a point of taking Mr. Darcy's arm on the way into dinner, which she neatly manoeuvred into placing him beside her at the table. Calling to Mrs. Hurst to take her other side, she admonished Mr. Hurst not to sit beside his wife and placed him beside Mr. Darcy, thereby managing the seating to her perfect satisfaction.

Eleanor observed the arrangement and shook her head in mock despair. She should, rightly, as the person of highest rank, have been seated to Miss Bingley's right.

"My dear Miss Bingley, this won't do at all. Have you forgotten that you are responsible for your guests' comfort? Here we are, with more ladies than gentlemen, and you have sat two of the gentlemen beside each other. If you feel it necessary to arrange the party, then you should do it properly." She took the seat to Mr. Bingley's right. "Miss Bennet, please take the seat opposite me. Now, Mr. Hurst, you must come sit beside me; Mr. Darcy move over one to sit beside Miss Bennet, yes like that; and Mrs. Hurst beside Mr. Darcy, as a lady cannot sit beside her husband." She reviewed the new seating arrangements. While it was not the custom to assign places at the table, and the Reverend Trusler would have been horrified by the outcome,6 the exercise had served her purposes admirably. "There, Miss Bingley, you see? All your female guests now have gentlemen to converse with and your guest of honour is properly accompanied; that is how it is done."

"But I have no one to speak to but Louisa!"

"You have said yourself that the comfort of your guests is your first responsibility. If you feel unsure of how this is to be managed, you may feel free to call on me for advice, and I am certain Miss Elizabeth would be willing to do the same, would you not?"

Elizabeth assured Miss Bingley of her availability, adding that, "Having lived on an estate all my life, I am naturally quite familiar with the responsibilities of a mistress. For example, there are two families among your tenants who are currently in need of assistance. I would be happy to introduce you to them."

"Are you familiar with the Netherfield tenants, Miss Bennet?" Mr. Bingley asked.

"Not as well as our own, of course, but the Lucases, the Gouldings and the Bennets have long shared in the care of the Netherfield cottagers and lands when the house is empty. Our tenants depend upon us as much as we do on them; and it would be most unfair for the Netherfield families to suffer simply because their master is absent."

"It seems we must add understanding of the workings of an estate and the proper roles of a mistress and hostess to our list of accomplishments," said Mr. Darcy. "After all, they are far more important to the success of a marriage than foreign languages."

"I am sure Miss Eliza is well qualified to be a mistress," Caroline muttered, somewhat louder than she had intended, as the entire party save for Darcy and Elizabeth herself turned to stare at her.

"Have you tried the beef?" Darcy asked Elizabeth, slicing a portion from the roast before him and offering it to her.

"I have not, thank you. Perhaps you could get me some of those parsnips as well?"

"Do you enjoy parsnips, Miss Bennet?" asked Mr. Hurst.

"I enjoy nearly all vegetables, sir, with the notable exception of cabbage. I sometimes wonder at the custom of offering a greater variety of meats than of vegetables, when there are so many more kinds of vegetables."

"Cabbage? Can't stand the stuff myself, but you can give me a good dish of peas or asparagus, any day."

The conversation carried on from vegetables to gardens and from there to landscapes and artists, with the happy participation of all but Caroline. Even Mrs. Hurst offered an opinion on the virtues of a good shrubbery over a rose garden. Afterwards, Eleanor took Miss Bingley aside. "Did you see how easily the conversation flowed? A proper seating arrangement is crucial to a successful dinner party. But you really must try to avoid such embarrassing scenes; from now on, when there are guests, I will look over your plans before we are all seated and no one will be any the wiser."

That evening, the loo-table did not appear. Lady Eleanor was reading, Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching the progress of his letter and repeatedly importuning his attention with comments on his skill at writing and 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 sufficiently amused in attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual commendations of the lady, either on his handwriting, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with 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 dear Georgiana will be to receive such a letter!"

With a deep sigh, Lady Eleanor got to her feet and said, "We really must take another turn about the room, Miss Bingley. I can see that your spirits are in need of refreshing."

Caroline blanched, but did not dare refuse the invitation.

"Did we not speak earlier about inappropriate familiarity? As part of her family, I refer to Miss Darcy as Georgiana, but you have no such connection."

"I believe you misunderstand, Lady Eleanor," Caroline replied through clenched teeth. "I have been on intimate terms with Georgiana for some years now. Much like your earlier example with Miss Lucas and Miss Elizabeth."

"That may be, but it does not apply in this situation. If you have been so fortunate as to have her offer you the privilege of her name, that is an honour to be treasured in private converse, not a prize for public display. Miss Lucas, quite correctly, refers to Miss Elizabeth as Eliza only in her presence."

Caroline Bingley had never been a lady of complacent, even temper, and in this instance her anger caused her to overlook the audience to their conversation. "You take a great interest in my manners. If I am, in fact, so far below you, I wonder that you bother."

"I am so sorry, I thought you knew." Abandoning the pretence of private converse, she asked in louder tones, "Darcy, did you not tell Miss Bingley your reasons for asking me to accompany you here?"

"I had hoped that such a revelation would not be necessary. It seems the problem is far greater than I had realized," her cousin replied.

"Problem? I see no problem here beyond your unwarranted and officious advice."

"My dear Miss Bingley," Eleanor took hold of the lady's arm and spoke in soothing tones, "We are only trying to help you. You must know what good care my cousin takes of his friends. He has come here to assist your brother in learning to manage an estate, a skill he must acquire if he is to become a gentleman. Likewise, he has been concerned that Mr. Bingley's rise in society might be hampered by your … let us just say that he asked me to assist his friend in furthering your education. You do wish to be a credit to your family, do you not?"

Her mortification complete, Caroline could barely manage to choke out the words, "Of course," before fleeing the room, her sister following after. As soon as both of Mr. Bingley's sisters were gone, Elizabeth rose, gathering her sewing and saying she would check on Jane, and left the room.

It was an uncomfortable Bingley who took a seat beside Darcy and quietly asked, "Was that entirely necessary?"

"I am sorry, Charles, but you must remember that we discussed this. I told you I could only visit here if you allowed me to deal with your sister as I saw fit. Her behaviour is not only detrimental to our friendship, but if left unchecked you will soon find yourself forced to choose between your sister and society. I would not wish that for you."

"I know. It is just … rather more painful than I had imagined."

"You must trust that Eleanor knows what she's doing. Miss Bingley may be suffering now, but she will learn to be a credit to you."

"And if she does not?"

"Then better that you discover it here where you can be assured of some measure of privacy, than in London where every detail will be bandied about freely. Perhaps it would help if you assured her that this is being done for her benefit and that we all hope for her success."

"It would help more if you would," Bingley replied with a grin.

"And give her entirely the wrong idea. We cannot let her think that I am to be her reward if she learns to mend her ways."

Elizabeth retired that evening with a very great deal to think upon. She could not help but approve that Mr. Darcy had come to Hertfordshire to help his friend learn to manage an estate. To take upon himself the task of instructing his friend's sister, however, did that not exceed the bounds of acceptable concerns? Unless Mr. Bingley had asked him to do so, but even then, should Miss Bingley not have been consulted as well? And need it have been done in so public a manner? Though, to be fair, that had been Lady Eleanor's choice rather than Mr. Darcy's. But if it were true that Lady Eleanor had come to Hertfordshire for the purpose of instructing Miss Bingley, then what that lady had said of Miss Bingley being a laughingstock in London society must likewise be true. To protect her from further shaming both herself and her brother must be seen as a kindness, however officiously and awkwardly done. Perhaps it was an affliction of the Fitzwilliam family that they must always give offense, however well-intentioned.

Caroline Bingley had but one thought - that she would take great pleasure in arranging Lady Eleanor's downfall.

Chapter 6

Posted on: 2011-09-30

Jane had slept poorly and found herself in need of rest, and so Elizabeth took the opportunity to walk in the shrubbery.

"Are you walking as well? Then I shall join you," Eleanor declared, wondering precisely how much of her domineering ways Miss Bennet would allow.

"As you wish, Lady Eleanor," Elizabeth replied with a deep curtsey.

Taking Elizabeth's arm, Eleanor said, "Please, do call me Eleanor. Titles are such a bore."

"Your opinion on the matter was otherwise yesterday; it would seem to change with the weather."

"Not the weather, my dear, the company. Do you think I was cruel to Miss Bingley?"

"That is not for me to say."

"Since I asked, I rather think it is, but I will ask another question instead. What would you do if a man your dear sister despised insisted on importuning her with his attentions?"

"It is hardly the same. Men have far greater power than women in such situations."

"Do they? What would you say if I told you that I had prevented Miss Bingley from forcing Darcy into a compromise, just this last Season?" At Elizabeth's incredulous look she continued. "It is quite true. We were all at the Duchess of Richmond's ball - though it later emerged that Miss Bingley had not been properly invited, she had simply attached herself to her brother and entered on his invitation; an invitation that had only been issued because she had convinced Darcy that his friend was suffering melancholy over a young lady who had refused his suit. That last, incidentally, was not true. Bingley and the lady in question had parted on terms of perfect amiability."

"Has Mr. Bingley had very many such relationships?"

Eleanor glared at her. "That is hardly the material point, Miss Elizabeth - and do not think that I have not noticed that you have yet to offer me permission to use your own Christian name - the point is that Miss Bingley was attending the ball under false pretences."

"That is hardly a capital crime, Eleanor," she said sweetly, "And you really must call me Elizabeth, now that we are so freely in each other's confidence."

"Oh, well done Elizabeth, well done indeed. I quite like you, you know. You have bottom."

"I have what?"

"Bottom. It is not a word ladies generally use, but I rather like it. Gentlemen use it to describe fighters, of any sort really - boxing men, fighting cocks, and suchlike - who are not easily defeated, as you are not."

"A rather odd sort of compliment for a lady, but I thank you for it."

"It was certainly meant as a compliment, for I despise weak women. But, as I was saying, I happened to be conversing with my cousin when a note was delivered to him indicating that something was amiss with his sister. He hurried off immediately, and I only just managed to overhear the manservant who delivered the note telling him there was a carriage out back and offering to guide him there. Well, Darcy was far too concerned about Georgiana to notice how odd it was that such an arrangement would have been made before the note was even opened, so I determined to follow him. Not unexpectedly, the servant ushered him into a room and attempted to close the door behind him, which I could not allow. I put myself in the doorway and when the servant tried to push me aside, marked the man and called out to Darcy for help. And who do you imagine was in that room?"

"I suppose it must have been Miss Bingley."

"None other. She later claimed it was all a misunderstanding and Darcy pretended to believe her for his friend's sake."

"So you are Mr. Darcy's protector."

"As he is mine, along with my brothers and father, of course. Gentlemen may fight to preserve a lady's honour, but they have few recourses when it comes to fending off those self-same ladies. I would no more leave him alone in a house with Miss Bingley than he would allow me to walk through Covent Garden unaccompanied."

"The first time, perhaps, but last night's conversation was more than simply protection."

Eleanor laughed. "Would you accept that I was simply trying to warn her off?" She paused, but Elizabeth did not answer. "That I am generously donating my time to assist my cousin's friend?" Still no reply. "Oh, very well. I will admit to having taken a great deal of pleasure in setting her down. What was it Darcy told me your mother said, about people who think themselves important but very much mistake the matter? I thought it time that Miss Bingley discover her own insignificance. Can you deny having enjoyed it yourself, just a little?"

"As you have honoured me with your frankness, I will return the favour and admit that I enjoyed it immensely, but only because she has been nearly as unkind to me as you have to her."

"Do you see no difference in the two matters? However much I might wish to punish Miss Bingley for her actions at the Duchess of Richmond's Ball, I would not have come here solely to indulge my own wishes. My cousin is genuine in his concern for his friend's future and, while I have no fondness for the lady, Mr. Bingley is a good man whom I am pleased to able to help. His sister's conduct in town is no better than it is here; it shames her brother, and left unchecked will ruin both their prospects. And so, I chose to check it. Have you ever observed any incivility on my part that was not first provoked by coarse behaviour on hers?"

"I must admit that I have not."

"There! You see? All is explained and now there can be no further misunderstanding."

Elizabeth smiled. "I am curious about one thing, though. What did you mean when you said you 'marked the man'?"

"Are you not familiar with the practice? No, I suppose you would have no need. My mother taught me to scratch a man's face if he tries to impose upon me. A gentleman attempting to force a lady into marriage will claim that she invited him to a private assignation, tore her own dress, or in some way seduced him. That way, he can play the martyr, agreeing to marry her out of a noble impulse while avoiding the danger of being called out by casting the blame on her. If he is marked, however, the lady's valiant struggle to defend her virtue cannot be questioned, and her family will do all in their power to ensure both his failure and his disgrace."7

"How horrible that you must think of such things."

"It is the way of our world."

"And thus I am given a lesson in my own insignificance."

"Oh, no, Elizabeth, I meant no such slur, I assure you. I rather envy you the security of knowing that any man who would court you could only do so from true affection."

"I doubt my mother would agree."

"Perhaps not, but you are not your mother. And I meant what I said before, I do rather like you and hope that we may be friends."

"I am honoured. And I can assure you that I am the last woman who would ever try to trap your cousin."

"Pity. You would be good for him."

"As to that I cannot say, though I sincerely doubt the gentleman would agree. I am, however, quite certain that he would not be good for me. Besides," she continued archly, "I strongly suspect that he has very bad teeth."

"Why on earth would you think such a thing?"

"Does he not? For I can imagine no other reason why a man would refrain entirely from smiling or laughing in company. Unless he suffers a severe deficiency of both sense and humour, he must have bad teeth."

"I shall refrain from informing him of your deductions, but only if you promise to make certain I am present when you inform him yourself. He is very much in need of such teasing and I shall greatly enjoy seeing it."

When Lady Eleanor entered the house, she was met by Mr. Darcy, who asked, "Did you speak to Miss Bennet?"

"I did."

"And?"

"What is this, Darcy? Have you suddenly become concerned with the opinions of mere country lasses? How unlike you."

"Perhaps I should not have given you leave to loosen your tongue." Darcy said angrily. "Miss Bingley may be fool enough to accept whatever nonsense you choose to speak, but do not make the mistake of thinking you can treat the rest of us in the same fashion. I would not have you turn shrewish, even to help a friend."

"Is it shrewish to notice that you do not care to give consequence to ladies whose circumstances are beneath yours?"

"She is a guest in my friend's house and, for the moment, a member of our party. I have never before given any reason for discomfort to a lady in such circumstances; that you would imply such a thing is insulting."

Lady Eleanor could not lift her eyes to his face. "No, you have not, and I should not have said such a thing. I am sorry."

"You are forgiven, of course, but I am concerned," he replied kindly. "Should we end your work with Miss Bingley? I meant what I said; if it is a choice between Bingley's family and my own, you will always come first."

"It should not be necessary; I have not entirely forgotten a lifetime of lessons." She began to pace. "But you cannot know how wonderful it feels to be able to speak freely for once, to say anything I like without fear of censure. It is such a pleasure."

"You have always spoken your mind."

"And always been censured for it, after which I must pretend to be contrite to avoid even worse consequences. While you act contrariwise, rarely speaking yours, and are considered the most gentlemanly of men. Why cannot honesty be valued as greatly as civility?"

Darcy stiffened. "Would you consider me dishonest?"

"Never that, only discreet. But we have changed the subject entirely. You wished to know about my conversation with Elizabeth; and I am pleased to be able to report that I have explained the situation to her satisfaction."

"I am very glad to hear it; I would not have wished for witnesses to Miss Bingley's education, but there was little in her behaviour that truly merited correction until the Miss Bennets joined our company."

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, to be precise, for we have scarcely seen Miss Jane Bennet. Do you think that Miss Bingley is jealous?"

"I prefer not to consider Miss Bingley's feelings in the matter."

That he did consider Miss Elizabeth Bennet's remained unspoken by both.

When Elizabeth was alone with Jane, she confessed herself quite exhausted by the attempt to be amused by their company; for she had spent too much of her day with a collection of people in whom there was little civility and no kindness, for none of whom she had felt the smallest interest, and from none received any pleasure. "I have never been so grateful for our father's dislike of town or for our own lack of fortune, for I should have been well-pleased to have lived my entire life without knowing that there could be such wickedness in the world. That Miss Bingley should have tried to compromise Mr. Darcy is bad enough, but that he should choose to come to Netherfield to seek his vengeance and his cousin take such delight in delivering it, and that Mr. Bingley should be so accepting of his own sister's suffering, it is all too much."

7 - To the best of my knowledge, no such practice existed in the Regency period. But it should have.

Chapter 7

Posted on: 2011-10-07

At dinner, Miss Bingley's behaviour was beyond reproach; her spirits had been lifted after a most successful arrangement had been made with a well-featured footman - she had discovered long ago that servants could be convinced to perform any service she might require if paid well enough - and she looked forward with delight to the time when Lady Eleanor should be removed from society in disgrace. Conversation flowed from pen mending to blots to boasting, and landed upon the character of the host.

Mr. Darcy, as Elizabeth had expected, was severe on his friend. "When you told Mrs. Bennet that if you ever resolved on quitting Netherfield you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of compliment to yourself -- and yet what is there so very laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or any one else?"

"To yield readily -- easily -- to the persuasion of a friend is no merit with you," Elizabeth said to Darcy.

"To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of either."

"You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make one readily yield to a request without waiting for arguments to reason one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance occurs before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and friend, where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?"

Eleanor added, "It seems to me that the more pertinent question is not whether Bingley should be so susceptible, as a man can no more change his nature than the colour of his eyes. Rather, the most important consideration for a man such as Mr. Bingley is how well he chooses his friends."

"And how shall you answer that, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked. "For to continue to argue the foolishness of Mr. Bingley's precipitance in pleasing his friends, you must likewise concede that he has been unwise in where he grants his regard, thereby insulting not only his judgment but your worth."

"Ha, ha! Well done, ladies. How will you answer them, Darcy?" Bingley asked.

"That I must admit my friend to be the wisest of men."

"Thus conceding the argument and thereby injuring your pride, but pleasing your vanity," Elizabeth replied.

"Darcy's pride may be struck, but my own is well pleased, for he has just done the very thing he accused me of," said Bingley, smiling.

"How do you mean?" Darcy asked.

"You have changed your mind to please your friend."

"Though not without reasoned argument. There was nothing of precipitance in my concession."

"Your manner may be different from mine, but you are no less bound by affection. If it were only a choice between your own pride and vanity, you would never have conceded. It is therefore a compliment to our friendship and your own sweetness of temper."

"Do you grant nothing, then, Mr. Bingley, to the power of reasoned argument? Is it not possible that Darcy was simply persuaded?" asked Eleanor.

"Whether or not he was persuaded is immaterial. There is nothing Darcy likes better than a good argument. I have seen him carry on for hours with his friends from Cambridge over nothing more significant than the quantity of different sorts of dishes at the dinner table."

"I had never imagined you so concerned with domestic matters, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth.

"The comfort of one's guests is as much the responsibility of the host as the hostess, particularly for an unmarried man. But Bingley's point is well made; amongst my university friends we often debate simply for the exercise of our minds and choose our positions more for the purpose of testing our abilities than any other consideration.8 The game, then, is to force ones opponent into an indefensible position."

"So you make a habit, then, of professing opinions that are not your own." Elizabeth said. "Are we not to trust anything you say?"

"To do so in general conversation would be a sort of dishonesty to which I would never knowingly stoop; disguise of any sort is my abhorrence. A formal debate, however, is a very different matter. For example, during the debate in question, the competitors drew lots to determine our positions, whilst the rest of the company were set as judges. As Bingley was our host for the evening,9 he was made the head judge. The practice more closely resembles a fencing match than honest discourse; you would no more assume that a debater's statements to reflect his own beliefs than that gentlemen crossing swords for practice are true enemies wishing each others' deaths."

"Then we are to believe that you both consider Mr. Bingley foolish in his willingness to bow to a friend's persuasion without argument and wise in his choice of friends," Elizabeth said, unwilling to abandon the earlier argument.

"Let me say rather that I have been convinced that a man who knows himself to be of easy persuasion may compensate by his choice of company for what might otherwise be a most harmful weakness. We are none of us without failings, Miss Bennet. You and my cousin have shown me how wisely Bingley has acted to ensure that his own can do no great evil."

"What a pretty speech, Darcy. I thank you for the compliment." Bingley stood and made an exaggerated bow to his friend.

"But we must know the measure of our triumph, cousin," Eleanor said. "Did you win the debate over dinner dishes? I insist on having the particulars."

"If you must know, the challenge was to convince the judges that a particular sort of dish should outnumber the others. I drew poultry, the others were fish, four-legged meats, and vegetables. We debated fiercely for some hours, covering matters of digestion, taste, health, expense and elegance. As Bingley rendered the final decision, I will leave it to him to describe it."

Shoulders back and nose high in the air, Bingley took on a most superior tone as he concluded the tale. "As head judge, I consulted carefully with my colleagues before handing down a most serious ruling. To wit," he paused for effect, "that one cannot discuss food without becoming hungry and that we must therefore partake of a late supper."

On that merry note, the ladies withdrew. Elizabeth ran up to her sister, and seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into the drawing-room, where she was welcomed by her two friends with many professions of pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable as they were during the hour which passed before the gentlemen appeared.

But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object; Miss Bingley's eyes were instantly turned towards Darcy, and she had something to say to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed himself directly to Miss Bennet, with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst also made her a slight bow, and said he was 'very glad'; but diffuseness and warmth remained for Bingley's salutation. He was full of joy and attention. The first half-hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she should suffer from the change of room; and she removed at his desire to the other side of the fireplace, that she might be farther from the door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to any one else.

Miss Bingley continued to try to draw Mr. Darcy's attention, but Elizabeth saw almost none of it, for her attention had been drawn into a conversation with Eleanor. They had discovered a shared love for the writings of Mr. William Shakespeare and were soon engaged in a fierce bout of linked quotations.10 When Eleanor tried, "All that glitters is not gold," it was Mr. Darcy who called her foul.

"The correct word is 'glisters', not 'glitters'."

"That cannot be. Are you quite certain?"

"He is correct," Elizabeth said, noting Miss Bingley's obvious displeasure that Mr. Darcy had paid such close attention to their game. "And on that victory, I am afraid that I must get my sister to bed, lest she be worse in the morning."

"We could not allow such a thing," Mr. Bingley declared in alarm and offered to escort the Bennet sisters to their rooms, bringing an end to the evening's entertainment.

Darcy slept poorly that night, his thoughts disturbed by the evening's discussion. For some years he had made a point of steering Bingley, certain that his friend was incapable of managing on his own, but could he have been mistaken? While Bingley readily acceded to any wish of Darcy's own, he only rarely gave his sisters similar consideration. The propensity to follow the whims of others could be no great evil if it was matched by sound judgments as to which others should be granted such deference.

Of even greater concern was his own growing interest in Miss Elizabeth Bennet. It was rare that he had cause to question his own judgments. That Miss Elizabeth, with some assistance from his cousin, had managed to soundly defeat him in an argument on a matter relating to his closest friend, a man he had known for years and with whom she was barely acquainted, was quite extraordinary. Her beauty he had long since conceded; her loving care of her sister and civility in the face of Miss Bingley's repeated offences spoke well of her character; her wit and lively manner he likewise acknowledged to be most attractive; and her education, though unconventional, had both the depth and variety to encourage intelligent and stimulating conversation. Such things, he told himself, were nothing to her lack of fortune and the behaviour of her family. But a woman who could best him in argument as well as any man of his acquaintance was an entirely unfamiliar, and in no way unpleasant, consideration.

8 - Debating was a well-established mode of competition among upper-class men and there were a number of debating societies at Cambridge when Darcy would have attended. In 1815 they were united into the The Cambridge Union Society, which still exists today.
9 - The implication in the novel is that Bingley did not have his own house in town, not unusual for a single man without inherited property. As a member of a club, however, he could return his friends' hospitality by hosting an evening's entertainment, which would involve booking a room and paying for everyone's food and drink.
10 - A pastime among the more educated, linked quotations involved reciting a quotation starting with the letter that ended the previous one. Either an author or a theme is chosen, and the first player who cannot find an appropriate quotation or who makes a mistake in quoting is eliminated. The game can be played with two or more players.

Posted on: 2011-10-20

Chapter 8

On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable to almost all, took place. Before Mrs. Bennet could enter her carriage, Lady Eleanor asked, "Would you be able to do without Miss Elizabeth this Christmastide? I should very much like to have her travel with me to Yorkshire and visit with my family."

This invitation was received with rapturous exclamations by Mrs. Bennet, who could scarcely find enough words to describe either the lady's great condescension or her own daughter's good fortune. "You will be in such high company, Lizzy, I insist that you must have new gowns. There will certainly be gentlemen there and you must see that you catch one, for you may never have such an opportunity again."

"I must apologize, Mrs. Bennet, if I have given the wrong impression. It will be naught but a small, family party in a draughty old house. I should not expect that invitations will be extended to any single gentlemen, and we shall be wrapped in shawls and blankets more often than not. Perhaps Miss Elizabeth could visit me in town during the Season to wear her new gowns."

"The Season! That is the very thing! But you must take my other girls as well, if you mean to be in London, that they may be thrown into the paths of rich young gentlemen."

Elizabeth scarcely dared lift her eyes to Eleanor's face, and knew not what she might say. Mr. Bennet asked, "Shall you invite yourself to the Earl's home as well, my dear?"

"What nonsense you talk, Mr. Bennet. Lady Eleanor may invite whoever she wishes, though why it should only be Lizzy, I am sure I do not know. She is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so good-humoured as Lydia." So distracted was Mrs. Bennet that she allowed herself to be handed into the carriage, quite forgetting to take her leave of Lady Eleanor.

Miss Bingley's civility to Elizabeth increased at last very rapidly, as well as her affection for Jane; and when they parted, after assuring the latter of the pleasure it would always give her to see her either at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most tenderly, she even shook hands with the former. Once the Netherfield party had entered their carriage for the ride back, however, she spoke of her relief at once again being able to enjoy the privacy of their own party without unwanted intrusion by outsiders.

"I thought the parson delivered his sermon rather nicely," Eleanor remarked, ignoring Caroline's invective. "Do you know his situation, Mr. Bingley?"

"I believe he is not yet married."

"Excellent! He would be a fine catch for you, Miss Bingley. I had thought perhaps one of the Lucas boys might serve, but they are a bit young. The parson will do nicely."

Caroline had learnt to be cautious, and stayed resolutely silent as Eleanor continued to discuss the particulars of the parsonage and the great benefit a shopkeeper's daughter could reap from such educated and respectable society. When alone with her sister later, she spoke of her apprehension and anxiety. "How am I ever to catch Mr. Darcy if she continues to treat me in this infamous manner!"

Mrs. Hurst smiled and continued to play with her bracelets.

"A country parson, for God's sake. How could anyone imagine that I would settle for a mere country parson."

"Really, Caroline, must you use such language? It is most unladylike. You could do worse than a parson, I suppose."

"Yes, I could settle for someone like Mr. Hurst."

At that, Louisa stood and left the room, pausing in the doorway just long enough to remind her sister, "My husband may not have Mr. Darcy's wealth or connections, but he is a gentleman and he provides me with a very comfortable lifestyle. Tell me, sister, who will provide for you when our brother tires of your offences against his friends?"

During the separation of the sexes after dinner, Darcy asked Bingley whether he and Eleanor should shorten their stay.

"Are you not comfortable here? If there is something lacking, you must let me know. I would not wish to be a neglectful host."

"Nothing like that, my friend. I have just been thinking on the conversation we had about your character, and I feel that I have been unfair, both to you and Miss Bingley. I have played your conscience keeper for far too long; I should have trusted in your ability to manage your own affairs instead of interfering where it was unnecessary."

"Hah!"

Both Bingley and Darcy turned to Mr. Hurst in astonishment. It was rare that he contributed to their after dinner conversations in any manner, but to interfere in so personal a discussion was unheard of.

"You think differently?" Darcy asked.

"Caroline needs more interfering than any man can offer and still call himself a gentleman. Do not forget, when she is not with Bingley she lives at my house, and I can tell you, Darcy, you have never seen her worst. Your cousin has the right idea; Caroline needs crushing and we need a woman to do it."

The residents of Longbourn had no sooner returned to their home than Mrs. Bennet began to speak on her second daughter's good fortune. "For you will be in the company of an earl and he must have a son, so great a man would not have only daughters, and the son may very well be unmarried. Oh, Mr. Bennet, if you had only acquired a copy of the Peerage I could check at once; now I shall have to wait until tomorrow to visit my sister Phillips. Though I suppose I could call for the carriage now."

"Not on the Sabbath, my dear. You will simply have to wait to satisfy your curiosity about the illustrious Fitzwilliams."

"Good Lord, Lizzy! Why would you go to Yorkshire when there are officers here? We shall have parties and good jokes and you will miss all the fun. Though perhaps you will find a husband there."

"Oh! my dear Lydia," replied Mrs. Bennet, "that is exactly what I could most wish for." When they sat down to supper, she could speak of nothing else but of her expectation that Elizabeth would soon be married to an Earl's son. -- It was an animating subject, and Mrs. Bennet seemed incapable of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. His being so rich was the first point of self-gratulation; and then it was such a comfort to think how fond the sister was of Elizabeth, and to be certain that she must desire the connection as much as Mrs. Bennet herself could do. It was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger daughters, as Elizabeth's marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men.

"But the clothes! Lizzy must have new clothes, Mr. Bennet, to catch the gentleman's eye. How much will you give her, Mr. Bennet?" She was then proceeding to all the particulars of calico, muslin, and cambric, and would shortly have dictated some very plentiful orders, had not Elizabeth, though with some difficulty, persuaded her to wait until the invitation might be confirmed, "For this was the first that I had heard of it; and it is very likely that she has not yet discussed the matter with her family. Besides, even if I were to go, there is not much point to new gowns if we will always be wrapped in shawls."

"Nonsense, nonsense. You will at least be dressed for dinner each night, for I do not doubt that that the earl is most attentive to all the proprieties, and if you must wear a shawl then it shall be of lace,11 for I saw just the thing in Meryton the other day."

It was not until they retired for the evening that Jane and Elizabeth were alone, and the former who had been cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister how very much she admired him.

"He is just what a young man ought to be," said she, "sensible, good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! -- so much ease, with such perfect good-breeding!"

"He is also handsome," said Elizabeth; "which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete."

"Is it truly? Are you no longer concerned, then, with his permitting Lady Eleanor's unkindness to his sister? For as much as I do like him, I fear that his character may be somewhat lacking."

"Whereas I am convinced that he is only too eager to please his friend. Mr. Bingley is the sort of man who, in trying to please everyone, cannot help disappointing some. His only fault may be that he chooses to place too much reliance on Mr. Darcy's opinions, but it is to the credit of his modesty. I cannot think otherwise than that he would benefit greatly from your goodness and sense."

"I must admit that I very much enjoy his company, but I dare not expect that he should show me any particular attentions. There may be nothing more than an error of fancy on my side."

"My dearest Jane, I never saw a more promising inclination; he was quite inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by you. I spoke to him twice myself without receiving an answer. Could there be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?"

Despite Bingley's assurance of their welcome, Darcy and Eleanor left Hertfordshire early in the morning of the following day, though with plans to return before the ball to be held at Netherfield a week later. Eleanor deemed it politic to allow Miss Bingley some time to lick her wounds before resuming her tutelage lest she become desperate. As it was only a country ball, with few of Bingley's friends from town attending, allowing Miss Bingley to plan it on her own would serve as a test of her ability to put her guests' needs before her own with little risk of any real social damage. Eleanor therefore claimed an urgent errand in town and insisted on her cousin's escort. She also offered to assist Miss Bingley by organizing any purchases she might wish to have made from town for the event. Realizing that Lady Eleanor would be judging the elegance of her arrangements, Miss Bingley made up a carefully considered list of wines, foodstuffs and other items to supplement that which could be acquired locally. She also informed the footman that his discovery in Lady Eleanor's bed should occur on the morning after the ball, when it could be witnessed by several guests of her own invitation; that would ensure that the scandal would become well-known in town.

11 - Here Mrs. Bennet shows her ignorance of true fashion, as an object made of lace, despite being of the same shape as a shawl, the same size as a shawl, and serving the same function as a shawl, was called a scarf and not a shawl at all.

Chapter 9

Posted on: 2011-10-31

The day after Jane and Elizabeth returned home, Longbourn was graced with the presence of one Mr. William Collins, the beneficiary of the entail on the estate. That Mrs. Bennet was ill-disposed to receive such a man was a matter quickly altered when the gentleman informed her that he had come with the intent of making amends by means of offering marriage to one of his fair cousins. Miss Bennet's lovely face confirmed his views, and established all his strictest notions of what was due to seniority; and for the first evening she was his settled choice. The next morning, however, made an alteration; for in a quarter-of-an-hour's tête-à-tête with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast, a conversation beginning with his parsonage-house, and leading naturally to the avowal of his hopes, that a mistress for it might be found at Longbourn, produced from her, amid very complaisant smiles and general encouragement, a caution against the very Jane he had fixed on who, she felt it incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged.

The mistress of Longbourn, having by then discovered that the Earl Fitzwilliam had two unmarried sons - the elder being a viscount, though the younger's occupation was unknown - informed Mr. Collins that, "Elizabeth is soon to be travelling, as she is the most particular friend of Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam who means to introduce her into London society."

The discovery that his own cousin was connected to the niece of his patron, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, could only make her more attractive to Mr. Collins, but Mrs. Bennet quickly disabused him of any such notion.

"For you should not wish to cause such disappointment to Lady Eleanor by depriving her of our Lizzy's company." As to her younger daughters she could not take upon her to say -- she could not positively answer -- but she did not know of any prepossession.

Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth to Mary -- and it was soon done -- done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. Mary, while not equal to Jane in birth and beauty, was well-looking enough and showed a pleasing interest in the teachings of the church. That her modesty and quiet demeanour would be acceptable to Lady Catherine he could not doubt; and so it was settled.

With the possibility of two unmarried gentlemen in Yorkshire, it was Mrs. Bennet's decided opinion that Elizabeth should have new things ordered with no delay, "For there is no knowing when Lady Eleanor will wish to leave, and you must be prepared." Despite Elizabeth's protests, morning dresses of spotted white muslin and fine French cambric and dinner gowns of sarsnet and embroidered coloured muslin were ordered. In one matter only could she prevail, for in case the invitation proved to be real, she insisted on the inclusion of two warm, woollen walking dresses; and it was only Elizabeth's promise to restrict her walks to the mornings when the Fitzwilliams were still abed - Mrs. Bennet being firmly of the belief that the family of an Earl would never rise before noon - that decided the matter. As there was not time to have a pelisse made up as well, Jane's new one was taken in for, as Mrs. Bennet said, "Mr. Bingley has already seen Jane in it, and he will not notice that her old one has been re-trimmed. And Mr. Bingley is nothing to a viscount!"

"Perhaps the younger brother will be more to Lizzy's liking," said Jane.

"And what has her liking to do with the matter?" asked Mrs. Bennet. "You must do your best to catch the viscount, Lizzy. Though, it would not do to offend the younger brother in case the elder is already promised, for they do such things in titled families. Yes, it would be best to pay attention to them both and see which one you can get."

"Lud, Lizzy. You might go all the way to Yorkshire only to catch a parson!" cried Lydia.

"Nonsense," declared Mrs. Bennet. "The son of an earl would be a rector at the very least,12 and soon to be bishop, no doubt. What a fine thing that would be!"

"Well, I am happy to be staying in Hertfordshire with the officers. But I must have new shoe-roses if I am to dance," said Lydia, drawing her mother into a discussion of all that must be done before the Netherfield ball.

The planning for that event was proceeding apace. Invitations had been delivered throughout the area, along with two in particular which were sent to London by Miss Bingley without her brother's knowledge. That lady was well pleased with all the preparations, and was having the rooms opposite Lady Eleanor's prepared for her guests when Mr. Bingley asked her to join him in his study.

"Really, Charles. Can it not wait? This ball was your idea, after all, and I have a great deal yet to do."

"This will take but a moment."

He waited until she was seated before sliding a banknote across the desk to her. "I believe this is yours."

"A ten pound note?" she said, examining the paper. "I suppose it might be, though I cannot imagine why you should think so."

"I think so because it was given to me by a young man by the name of Thomas Wilmott." When his sister's face showed no sign of recognition, he continued. "Do you not bother to learn the names of the servants you pay to carry out your schemes?"

At this, Miss Bingley's face began to lose colour, but she kept her composure as she replied, "I have no idea what you are speaking of."

"Do not bother lying, Caroline. You have been bribing servants since you were eight. Do you remember? You promised the nursery maid your favourite doll if she would bring you cake instead of porridge for supper. Mother and father were charmed, but it has become less charming as you have aged."

With her chin raised, she declared, "I have not aged! I am still quite young."

"You are five and twenty, nearly six and twenty, and not yet married," he stated firmly. "I understand that you have become fearful for your future, but injuring others will not help to achieve your ends, and we have become wise to your ways. After the debacle at the Richmonds' last summer, Hurst informed his entire staff that he would pay double whatever you offered if they notified him of your attempts at mischief. And here at Netherfield, every servant in this house save the housekeeper and the cook was brought here from one or another of the Fitzwilliam family estates; their first loyalty is to Lady Eleanor, their second to Darcy, and only then to myself. You will get no help from any of them."

It was a much chastened Miss Bingley who replied, "But that would mean that … do the earl and countess know what happened?"

Bingley spoke kindly. "Their own nephew and daughter were involved. They insisted that precautions be taken for this visit."

"Then I am ruined."

"Not yet, but you will be if you continue in this manner. At Darcy's request, the Fitzwilliams agreed that Lady Eleanor could accompany him here to attempt to show you the error of your ways. If there are no further incidents, they will not share what they know. But you will be granted no more chances; one misstep and all of London will know of your misdeeds. Do you understand? You must behave with perfect decorum from now on, or you will indeed be ruined. No schemes, no sly attempts to disparage your betters and most particularly, you must cease your blatant efforts to attach Darcy; you have made him uncomfortable in my house, and I will not have it."

Miss Bingley did no more than nod before fleeing the room, her only comfort that neither Mr. Darcy nor his meddling cousin were there to witness her most recent humiliation.

With Mr. Darcy away in London, the ladies of Longbourn, along with their cousin Mr. Collins, met a certain Lieutenant George Wickham, newly entered into the militia, unobserved by that gentleman, though that circumstance in no way deflected Mr. Wickham's discovery that his erstwhile playmate was residing nearby, nor that one Miss Elizabeth Bennet had spent some days in his company. Mrs. Phillips, it turned out, was a fount of information regarding the eligible gentlemen of the area who might inspire a competitive spirit in those seeking the favours of young ladies. She was, however, far less forthcoming with information on eligible ladies who might provide competition for her nieces.

Judging Miss Elizabeth just the sort of young woman who would best serve his purposes - lively and talkative, but not so young or silly as to be easily dismissed by others - he spun his tale of woe to her sympathetic ears, confident that, like all the other young women he had similarly importuned in the past, she would spread the tale. Bestowing his attentions on Miss Elizabeth would likewise serve him in other ways. An appearance of interest in a marriageable woman would ensure his welcome in local society, most particularly in the Bennet household, where he would have access to Miss Lydia, who he reckoned a perfect dell,13 untouched and ripe for the picking. Thus it was that Wickham approached the Netherfield Ball in full confidence that he would have the pleasure of not only felicitous female attentions, but also watching Darcy slighted by the company. Unfortunately for his plans, neither was Elizabeth a gossip nor was Mr. Wickham aware that one Eleanor Fitzwilliam was in residence at Netherfield.

For Elizabeth's part, Mr. Wickham's account of Mr. Darcy's malicious and unjust behaviour finally decided what had previously been uncertain. Mr. Darcy was confirmed as a man of dreadful disposition and ill-temper, who thought well of himself and meanly of others.

12 - A rector was, in fact, a type of parson. The lowest level of parson was the perpetual curate, who received a (generally very small) income. Next came the vicars, who were granted livings by lay owners, as with Mr. Collins' being granted the Hunsford living by Lady Catherine. The lay owner would be responsible for all the upkeep of the church, supported by the greater tithe, or 10% of all wheat, hay and wood from the parish, while the vicar received the lesser tithe, which was 10% of everything else. Rectors were appointed by the church and received both greater and lesser tithes. They also had glebe land, the income from which went to church upkeep; this association with land made them much more like gentlemen than their brothers in the surplice. Rectories were typically larger than other parsonages and often contained multiple lesser parishes. In other words, rectors were much higher status and better off than mere vicars.

13 - "Young buxom wenches, ripe and prone to venery, but who have not lost their virginity, which the UPRIGHT MAN claims by virtue of his prerogative; after which they become free for any of the fraternity." That's an actual dictionary definition from 1811.

Chapter 10

Posted on: 2011-11-09

Lady Eleanor herself spent the afternoon before the ball going over the arrangements with Miss Bingley. Made aware of that lady's ill-fated attempt to damage her own reputation, she chose, nevertheless, to be kind and found little to criticize, offering only a few suggestions for more light in odd corners where lovers might attempt to avoid notice and less in places where those selfsame couples might indulge in private tête-à-têtes without violating propriety. There was no fault to be found with the menu, and the lengths of satin and matching ribbons she had sent from town were elegantly draped, swathed, and tied over and around tables and sconces and arrangements of flowers and candles. At Miss Bingley's request, Lady Eleanor assisted in giving final instructions to the staff, paying particular attention to the extra hands hired for the event which might be unfamiliar with functions of such grandeur. She retired to her rooms to change, well-pleased with not only the arrangements, but also Miss Bingley's much improved manner.

As the guests began to arrive, she found Darcy standing by a window that afforded a clear view of the front drive. "Are you prepared to face the ladies, cousin? It is a private ball, after all."

"I am aware of my obligations, however I believe that Bingley has invited all the officers, so there should be no shortage of gentlemen this evening."14

"True, but there are other obligations. Were you aware that guests have arrived from town?"

Darcy groaned as his cousin indicated, some distance behind them, two ladies of Miss Bingley's set, a Miss Wolstenholme and a Miss Everdene, both well-known fortune hunters and loose-tongued gossips. He turned quickly back towards the window. "When did they arrive?"

"This afternoon, while you were secreted away with Mr. Bingley." At that moment, they saw the ladies of Longbourn descend from their carriage. "Miss Elizabeth is quite lovely, is she not?"

"Please tell me you are not matchmaking."

"Not for you, she finds you insufferably proud and arrogant."

"Does she?" he asked in some dismay.

"Oh, really Darcy, you cannot possibly be surprised. You have barely been civil to anyone but Mr. Bingley and myself since you arrived here. You have scarcely spoken or danced with anyone outside your own party. What else could she think?"

"I did not mean …"

What he did or did not mean would remain unsaid, as they both observed a group of officers approaching the house, led by none other than George Wickham.

"What in blazes is he doing here? By God, I will…"

"You will do nothing, Darcy. Leave him to me," she replied, and swiftly descended the stairs, asking only that he send a footman to her as quickly as may be.

In the entryway, Mr. Wickham was just asking Miss Elizabeth Bennet for the favour of the first two dances, only to be interrupted by an enraged Eleanor.

"You will not dance with anyone here tonight," she declared. "Nor find any good company in this country, for I will make sure that your character is known. A footman is on his way to remove you from the house, if you have not the sense to leave on your own."

"Lady Eleanor?" The colour had been driven from his face, but he managed a slight bow.

"Were you not expecting to find me here?" Her words held a quiet force and she advanced as she spoke, forcing him to retreat from the house, with Elizabeth following behind. "No, for if you had known I would be attending, you would have hidden away, as cowards do."

"You were not always such an unforgiving creature, Ellie," Wickham snarled. "I remember when you rather enjoyed my attentions."

"Not since I was a child of seven. You dare speak of forgiveness, when you have done nothing to atone for your misdeeds? No, Mr. Wickham, it is you who have shown yourself incapable of mercy. I save my compassion for the girls you have so cruelly injured."

With not one but three footmen bearing down upon them, Wickham fled, very nearly knocking down a group of young ladies in his hurry to escape.

Elizabeth, having heard every word, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. What could be the meaning of it? -- It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know. Hoping to learn more, she led Lady Eleanor back into the house; and finding an empty chair in an unoccupied corner, she attempted to offer consolation for her distress. "Come and sit. You seem overwrought. Is there something I can get you, a glass of wine perhaps?"

"No, my dear," Eleanor replied, taking Elizabeth's hand in her own. "But I must know, how well are you acquainted with that man and what has he been saying?"

"I have only met him a few times and I must confess myself quite shocked at your treatment of him." She drew up another chair as she spoke.

"My treatment of him?" she repeated contemptuously. "Oh, if you were aware how wicked a man he truly is."

"If you say it is so, I must believe you, but it is not easy. He is so amiable and there is likewise such truth and goodness in his manner."

"Appearances only, Elizabeth. Wickham is very much aware that he is well favoured, a circumstance he uses to prey on the innocent. I will not speak of such things here, but be assured that he is a liar, a scoundrel, and a debaucher of the very worst sort."

"I beg your forgiveness, but I must ask. Do you have knowledge of this yourself, or is it only what you have heard from Mr. Darcy? For I am aware that there is no great friendship between the two and can well imagine that Mr. Darcy would happily blacken Mr. Wickham's name."

Eleanor shook her head. "So, he has begun to spread his lies already. No, Elizabeth, it will not do. Not only is my cousin above any form of deceit, but I have seen Mr. Wickham's handiwork for myself and have myself caught him in more than one falsehood. I know not what tales he has spun, but do not believe anything you hear from that source, for he speaks only to serve his own purposes and there is no goodness in him at all."

The first dance was beginning to form, and Mr. Collins came past to collect Miss Mary, not scrupling to pause and declaim to the ladies the dangers of associating with rough soldiers and the superiority of character of men of the cloth. Elizabeth's mind was so fixed on what she had heard that she barely noticed his speech. She determined to speak to Charlotte, but before she could tell the tale Mr. Darcy came over to apply for her hand, a request Elizabeth granted, much to her own surprise.

Too agitated to engage in the sort of idle chatter appropriate to the dance floor, Elizabeth could not help but discuss the subject that most occupied her mind. "Were you aware that a Mr. George Wickham was here earlier?"

"I was," he said evenly.

"Your cousin sent him away."

As she pronounced these words Mr. Darcy changed colour. "Did he impose upon her?" he asked.

"There is no cause for concern, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied. "If anything she imposed on him. Eleanor is a formidable woman."

"She is that, but you do not know what that man is capable of."

"No, I do not, but I do wish to. Your cousin hinted … that is, is it true that he has," she lowered her voice and waited until their steps brought them close together, "hurt women?"

It was a full turn of the dance before Darcy could bring himself to reply. "I would not speak of such things. Is it not enough to know that he is not a man to be trusted?"

"That is what Eleanor said. Do you not see that I cannot rest until I know?"

"My apologies, Miss Bennet. I would not have you suffer undue distress," he said, and led her from the dance out to the terrace.

A quick glance established that there were a number of other people enjoying the evening air, enough that their conversation would be properly public, but not so many that they could not speak without being overheard. "I cannot say whether my distress is undue, as I do not yet know the cause. Please, will you answer my question?"

Darcy could not meet her eyes as he replied. He took a deep breath and stared fixedly at a spot just past her shoulder. "I would not call them women, for I know of none who were older than Miss Lydia, and several who were younger."

"But, is it certain?"

"Completely. He … has a taste for young girls, too young to bear the consequences."

"You cannot mean he would … not with children?"

Darcy straightened, appearing even taller and more forbidding than usual. "These matters are too crude for a lady's ears."

Not so easily put off, Elizabeth insisted, "Please, sir. I must know."

"Very well, madam." His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not open his lips till he believed himself to have attained it. "Girls of tender age are not fully prepared for childbearing."15

Suddenly realizing just how inappropriate this subject was, Elizabeth's cheeks were overspread with the deepest blush, but she refused to be stopped. "If they were that young, they could not have become with child."

"You misunderstand me. A girl may be capable of bearing a child without being able to safely give birth. Two that I know of for certain did not survive, and another lost her babe and was damaged such that she will never carry another."

She was struggling for an appearance of composure. "But, he cannot have known there would be such consequences. There is such goodness in his looks."

"That may have been true for the first, but I informed him of the result myself. Nor did he offer marriage when the girl's condition was first known." Mr. Darcy led her to a bench that she might sit, an action rendered necessary by her evident agitation. "We are not all as we appear, Miss Bennet. What may appear to be goodness may conceal the most vile of characters." He paused before adding, "And an appearance of overweening pride and incivility may signify nothing worse than the discomfort of a man ill equipped to recommend himself to strangers." With that he took his leave and returned to the ballroom. He found Jane Bennet caught up in the inevitable swirl of gossip about Lady Eleanor's accusations towards Mr. Wickham and sent her to her sister.

"My dear Lizzy, are you unwell? Mr. Darcy said you appeared distressed."

"Oh, Jane. I have just learnt the most shocking things about Mr. Wickham."

"Then it is not true that Mr. Darcy denied him his father's bequest?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "I did not ask, but if so it is no more than he deserves. I shall never be able to trust my own judgment again."

Taking her sister in her arms, Jane assured her, "It cannot be so bad as all that. Perhaps there is some misunderstanding. Mr. Wickham may yet be vindicated."

"No, Jane. It will not do." Resting her head on her sister's shoulder, she continued. "You did not hear how he spoke to Lady Eleanor - he who has always been all amiability and gentleness showed himself to be a brutish lout - and neither did he so much as attempt to deny her justice. If it were only Mr. Darcy's word against Mr. Wickham's there could be room for doubt, but with Wickham's own behaviour and Lady Eleanor's word against him it must be so. Oh, Jane, I have been weak and vain and nonsensical."

"It is unfortunate that you mistook the gentlemen's characters, but we are none of us so perfect that we do not make mistakes."

Elizabeth shook her head. "You forgot to except yourself, for you are always perfectly good. You told me Mr. Darcy could not be so bad, but I was so proud of my uncommon cleverness in taking so decided a dislike to him, without any reason. I felt it such a spur to my genius, such an opening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind. That I could be so foolish! Till this moment I never knew myself."

"You did accuse Mr. Darcy of improper pride. How do you see him now, in light of your own?"

Sitting up, Elizabeth replied, "I hardly know what to think of Mr. Darcy. That Mr. Wickham is so very bad does not make Mr. Darcy good; I cannot forget how he and his cousin have treated Miss Bingley and he has been most uncivil, though he did say that he is uncomfortable amongst strangers. Oh, what should I do?"

"Dearest sister, you should wipe your tears and return to the ballroom of course." Jane retrieved a handkerchief from her reticule and handed it to her sister, who dried her eyes. "Nothing of either Mr. Wickham or Mr. Darcy's character will have changed by morning, so you had best dance now and puzzle over gentlemen tomorrow."

"I would be a fool indeed to ignore such sound advice. Very well, then, Jane. As dancing is the order of the evening, we shall dance until our feet are sore and our slippers worn." On their return to the ballroom they found Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy waiting for them with glasses of punch, certain that the two eldest Bennet sisters were in dire need of both refreshments and company.

Having been assured that Elizabeth's spirits were restored, Darcy left her in the company of her sister and their friend, Miss Lucas, hoping to fulfil his gentlemanly duties to Miss Bingley's friends - with whom he was well, if not happily, acquainted - before word of the evening's unfortunate events had circulated. In this, he underestimated the speed at which gossip is wont to travel at a country ball, even to the ears of ladies unacquainted with the local society.

Standing up with Miss Everdene, he was treated to equally enthusiastic displays of sympathy and of her, admittedly, rather generous bosom. That lady's concern for his having been "so very nearly accosted by such a person as your steward's son" required repeated inquisitions into the particulars of his feelings at every moment from his first awareness of the scoundrel's imposition upon the company up to the most recent turn of the dance. Particular attention was paid to the distress he must have felt at having been so unceremoniously taken from the dance floor by a local miss. "For so new an acquaintance to have imposed upon on you at such a time is quite outrageous, I am sure. Such a girl cannot know you as we do, and could not possibly comprehend how very much you value your privacy. You will do best to keep to the comforting company of your friends this evening, do you not agree?"

He fared no better in the next set with Miss Wolstenholme, who insisted on knowing exactly what sort of relationship Mr. Wickham and Lady Eleanor had shared in the past and how they happened to find himself in the same country and at the very same ball. "They spoke with such familiarity, as if there were a long-standing acquaintance between them, and there was such passion in her manner when they met; it does make one wonder what might have passed between them at one time."

In defence of his cousin's reputation, Darcy explained, "My father was providing for his education, and included him in some of the less formal events whenever the Fitzwilliams visited Pemberley. Family picnics, lawn games, that sort of thing. Other than that, she has never been in his company. I assure you, her anger is entirely on behalf of others."

"Oh, there could never have been anything improper at Pemberley, of course. But she is such an independent creature, and he did seem a tolerably handsome man. Do you not suspect some sort of design on his part?"

"As to his intentions I cannot speak, but I was speaking with Eleanor when we first spied Mr. Wickham and I can assure you that her surprise was as great as mine. Neither one of us had any knowledge of his presence in Hertfordshire before this evening."

"That must be such a comfort to you, to know of your cousin's innocence. Do you suppose, then, that it was mere coincidence that he happened to be invited this evening, or did Miss Bingley know of the connection?"

It was with great relief that Darcy completed his dances with the ladies from London, as he doubted greatly whether he could have held his temper for another set. He approached Elizabeth, who was again speaking with Miss Lucas, and asked, "As our first set was interrupted so early, might I be honoured with the next?"

"I am sorry, but I have promised to dance with Mr. Robinson." Ashamed of her earlier, immodest behaviour, she sought to make amends. "But I would be very pleased to save you the one after."

"I shall look forward to it."

As Mr. Robinson approached, Darcy could not do other than to offer to Miss Lucas. Having observed his concern for Elizabeth at the beginning of the evening, along with his eagerness to partner with that lady again, Miss Lucas determined that the gentleman's interest had been captured, and accordingly bent her efforts to promoting her friend instead of herself.

"I must thank you for you efforts in calming Miss Elizabeth Bennet's fears earlier. That was most kind of you."

"Whether my efforts helped, I cannot say. I fear I only did more harm."

"Oh no, sir. You must understand that my friend is blessed with a most active imagination. It is enough for me to know that a man is not of good character, but she must have the particulars or her mind will skip from one horrible possibility to another. While she did not share with me the substance of your conversation, I could see that your information had relieved her agitation."

Having thus flattered the gentleman himself, she turned to the subject of her friend's virtues. "Your cousin is very fortunate in having made a friend of Miss Elizabeth. Having had the pleasure of her friendship since childhood, I can promise you that Lady Eleanor could not find a more trustworthy confidante or a kinder companion."

"There can be no disagreement on that point, for I had the opportunity to observe Miss Elizabeth's devotion to those she loves when she attended her sister during her illness."

Miss Lucas was well pleased with the entire conversation, for knowing well the gentleman's reticence in company, she felt that he had given every sign of developing a serious attachment to a most deserving friend.

After two entire dances of questions about Mr. Wickham, Elizabeth was immensely relieved to spend half an hour with one of the few people who knew more about the matter than she. Having replied to his enquiries as to her welfare with appropriate civility, she asked, "Would you mind if we just danced?" Fearing he might take offence, she hurriedly added, "It is not that I fear your conversation, but that I have been so importuned on the subject of Mr. Wickham these last hours that I find myself longing for a moment of peace to collect my thoughts. Or perhaps simply not to think."

"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours," he replied softly, grateful that she, at least, had neither questions nor insinuations about the man who had so foully abused his own father's trust.

As Darcy discovered soon after their dances ended, there were few other than Miss Lucas and Miss Elizabeth who would not importune him on that subject. There was no conversation to be had on any topic other than the mysterious accusations of Lady Eleanor against Mr. Wickham. The officers were repeatedly questioned as to their knowledge of the man's character, but could say nothing more than that he was good enough company. Only Lieutenant Denny was possessed of more than a week's acquaintance with the man, and he admitted to having little knowledge of Wickham's character beyond a general good humour and pleasantness of manner. Lady Eleanor said no more than that, "A lady can never speak of such matters," which only served to raise speculation even further. It was mostly the older gentlemen, for the most part those with eligible daughters, who approached Darcy; and he limited himself to a general warning not to give the man credit and to ensure proper chaperonage for young ladies. Having been involved directly in the incident and been seen in private conference with Lady Eleanor immediately after, Elizabeth was likewise questioned for her opinion. As the subject was not one that could be discussed in polite society, she admitted only that she would never willingly allow herself to be in company with Mr. Wickham.

It was quickly discovered that no one in the neighbourhood had ever trusted the man. He was found to be far less handsome than the evening's host and even Lydia proclaimed that he was never so good company as the other officers. With such ripe gossip to be had, Mrs. Bennet was quite distracted from the attentions Mr. Bingley showered on her eldest daughter and no one wished for the conversation to be interrupted by music. The officers were in such demand for their thoughts on the matter that Lydia and Kitty ended the evening sulking quietly in a corner and bemoaning that such a man as Lieutenant Wickham had ever come to Hertfordshire to spoil their fun.

Miss Bingley's friends found it all terribly diverting and very much suited to their purposes. Miss Everdene was certain that Mr. Darcy had appreciated her compassion and her bosom equally, and was hopeful of having further opportunities to catch Mr. Darcy's attention over the next days - for she intended to stay at Netherfield as long as that gentleman was present - congratulated her hostess on a most elegant and successful evening. The more waspish Miss Wolstenholme's thoughts were otherwise, as she was eager to share the news of Lady Eleanor's narrow escape from an infamous scoundrel and Miss Bingley's disgraceful failure as a hostess.

Mrs. Bennet was not quite so distracted as to forget to arrange that theirs was the last carriage called. The sight of her brother fondly farewelling Jane Bennet reminded Caroline Bingley that Lady Eleanor was not her only problem in Hertfordshire. With Charles off to London in the morning for business, she determined to find a private moment with Mr. Darcy the next day. He was surely in agreement as to the inferiority of the Bennets and the general unsuitability of Jane Bennet for her brother. She would convince Darcy that they should all return to the city and keep her brother there, where he would be restricted to the company of superior women, worthy of his attentions.