Section I, Next Section

Part One

Posted on Monday, 29 May 2006

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune, although he may be of Teutonic origin, must be in want of a wife. Among some of the landowners in the more rural parts of Britain, like, say, Hertfordshire, this truth is so well fixed that they will soon consider such a gentleman, even though he may be of Teutonic origin, as the rightful property of the one or other of their daughters.

"My dear Mrs. Bennet," said her husband to the lady in question one morning, when the family was having breakfast, "have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"

Mrs. Bennet confirmed that she had indeed, because her good friend Mrs. King had just sent her a letter, "but I surely do not know how it can affect us. I do like company, sure enough, but a single young man cannot wish to entertain me ."

"Oh, Mrs. Bennet, you are so funny!" exclaimed her husband, "you must certainly have thought about his marrying one of our daughters! Imagine, a young gentleman from the North, with five thousand pounds a year!"

"Mr. Bennet, how can you think of marrying him to our daughters? You have not even met him yet."

"Very true, my dear, that is why I shall set out at once. Only imagine, Sir William Lucas might visit him first if I do not hurry up, and you know that that horrible man wants to marry his Charlotte off!"

"But papa," said Elizabeth Bennet, his second daughter, "he only arrived yesterday evening, as Mrs. King writes. Certainly, he must wish to order all his affairs before he can attend on visitors."

"Nonsense, Miss Eliza," her father answered, "he shall like to be introduced to the most important gentleman of the town - for certainly you cannot consider Sir William Lucas a gentleman, his father kept a shop, after all - especially when I mention that I have five eligible daughters - though I dare say if you remain such an obstinate creature, we shall never get you married in our lives. No, I must be off at once, and throw in a good word for my Liddy.

"Who knows, dear," he added with a smile to his youngest and favourite daughter, "he may even be an officer. Only imagine!"

"And if he isn't," Miss Lydia cried out, "then I say Jane can have him, for I am determined to marry no one unless he is a very rich officer."

"That's the spirit, dear," said her father, and off he was, to visit Mr. Bingley.

Mrs. Bennet was a sensible and intelligent woman of forty-five. She was well-informed and liked to read, and many of her friends praised her wit and her good humour. The one big mistake she had made in her life was that, at twenty years of age, she had allowed her parents to persuade her to marry Mr. Bennet. He was a narrow-minded man, not very educated and rather vulgar. His sole aim in life was to marry off his daughters faster than his neighbour, Sir William Lucas, could marry off Miss Lucas and Miss Maria. Mrs. Bennet had secretly sworn an oath that she should never allow her daughters to be items in some made sort of wager, and she had promised Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary that they should marry whomever they liked. Mrs. Bennet was a little concerned for her younger daughters. Lydia was her father's favourite and listened only to him, and Kitty was to easily impressed by her father's descriptions of her life as a married woman and Lydia's praise of officers.

Mr. Bennet soon returned from his visit to Mr. Bingley (the gentleman still being busy with arranging himself in the new house) and summoned his wife and daughters to the drawing-room to tell them in details all that he could learn about Mr. Bingley.

"Sadly, he is not an officer," he began, "so I cannot force you to marry him, Liddy - and anyway, I could not part with you for all in the world - but he will do alright for Jane, for he is also blond." Jane smiled forcedly and Elizabeth pressed her hand in comfort.

"I shall therefore expect you, dear Jane, to dance with him next week at the assembly ball, for certainly he shall notice your beauty. Oh, and he is bringing some friend of his, from a place called Berlin, which must be somewhere in the East, and you, Miss Eliza, or Miss Mary, would do well to dance with him."

"Berlin," said Mrs. Bennet, "certainly is in the East, for it is in Germany."

"Nonsense, Mrs. Bennet," answered her husband, "Mr. Bingley wouldn't bring a foreigner to the assembly ball. He wouldn't do that to poor Jane."

"But he does not even know her yet! How could he possibly think of her, Mr. Bennet?"

"Well, as soon as he has seen her, he shall think of nothing else, you mark my words. And then she shall be married, and very rich, and only think of the look on Sir William Lucas' face when I present my son-in-law. Hah! That will teach him!"

"Mr. Bennet, I do wish you would stop crying so loudly, I am quite certain I shall turn deaf on my good ear very soon." (Mrs. Bennet was slightly deaf on her left ear, having stood to close her husband when he had found a sonnet to Jane that a young man from London had sent her when she was sixteen. Mrs. Bennet swore that when the wind was east, she could still hear the cries of "A daughter married at sixteen! And Miss Lucas still unmarried at twenty-one!" in her bad ear.)

"It is indeed, one of the biggest cities in the German kingdom of Prussia," said Mary absent-mindedly. "It became the royal residence in 1701, when Elector Frederick III was crowned the first king of Prussia. Though I think the Prussian city of Koenigsberg is older and bigger. That is were the great philosopher Immanuel Kant lived. Handle stets nur nach derjenigen Maxime ..."

Mary shared her mother's passion for reading, but she could scarcely be encouraged to read a novel, instead she preferred dictionaries and grammars of foreign languages. Her mother once had even seen her leaf through Fordyce's sermons, but had been relieved when Mary claimed that she should certainly never read Fordyce again, because he had not even bothered to mention dates - and what else could one want from a book but a presentation of facts?

A report of a most alarming nature reached Longbourn the next day, namely, that Mr. Bingley had sent for five ladies from London to accompany him to the assembly ball, but Mr. Bennet quickly managed to learn the truth by simply sending his steward to Mr. Bingley's steward in order to interrogate him, and found out that Mr. Bingley's party would consist of only five people, namely, himself, his friend from Berlin (which Mr. Bennet still believed to be somewhere in East Anglia), his sister, her husband and another sister. Having cleared these pressing matters, Mr. Bennet had nothing else to do but wait for the day of the ball to finally come; unluckily, it rained the whole weekend and he could not even walk with his daughter Jane to Netherfield to let her fully appreciate (by seeing the grandness of the estate, and speculating about the yearly income of anybody who could afford a house in town as well as renting out Netherfield) how important her being nice to Mr. Bingley was (even more unfortunately, Mr. Bingley had gone to town to bring his friends, and so Mr. Bennet could not visit him another time). The only distraction to be had - if one counted not the possibility of talking to his wife, or elder daughters - was Kitty developing a cough, which, as Mr. Bennet pointed out to his wife, had to be treated immediately, for Kitty had to be her healthiest when the rich man from East Anglia came, possibly bringing more East Anglian friends with him. Mrs. Bennet declared to her daughters that if she heard the words "East Anglia", "rich gentlemen" or "Assembly ball" once more, she should either have a nervous breakdown, or turn deaf from Mary's shouted reply of "It's NOT in East Anglia, it's in PRUSSIA!"

Luckily, the day of the ball finally came, with none of the Bennets suffering from any health issues (apart from Mrs. Bennet, who had had her bad ear for several years). Mr. Bennet, after inspecting all his daughters' gowns, confiscating Mary's glasses and the German grammar she had smuggled into her bodice, and declaring his dear Liddy to be the prettiest of them all, ushered his family into the carriage, for he intended them to reach the ball before Sir William Lucas did. As soon as they arrived, he organised seats at the most prominent place of the room for his daughters and their mother, and wandered of in search of Mr. Bingley, to rescue him from the clutches of Sir William Lucas. Mrs. Bennet seated herself with her daughters, tried to persuade Lydia that she was showing too much cleavage, secretly gave Mary back her glasses (without which Mary would not be able to tell which gentleman was asking her for a dance) and pressed Jane's hand in comfort when Mr. Bennet dragged a tall blond man towards them. Mrs. Bennet was instantly aware that this was a gentleman to her eldest daughter's liking. He had an open and pleasing countenance and, once he had freed his arm from Mr. Bennet's firm grip, displayed easy and friendly manners. He was followed, rather unwillingly, by an even taller, but dark and certainly very handsome gentleman. Mrs. Bennet noticed that both her eldest daughters sat up straighter when the gentlemen came in view.

"Mr. Bingley, allow me to present to you Mrs. Bennet and my five lovely daughters, all of them, I assure you, some of the most beautiful creatures in this county. Miss Jane, Miss Eliza, Miss Mary, Miss Kitty and Miss Liddy, and I dare say that I do not know which one is the prettiest." Mrs. Bennet and her three older daughters blushed at Mr. Bennet's insolent behaviour, but greeted Mr. Bingley very heartily nonetheless, whilst Kitty and Lydia had only eyes for some officers that had just entered the room.

"It is a pleasure meeting you and your lovely daughters, Mrs. Bennet. May I introduce my friend, Herr Darcy, of Luisenstraße, Berlin, and Pemberley, Derbyshire?" Mrs. Bennet knew at once that her daughter Mary would use this opportunity to try out her knowledge of foreign languages, but she did not mind very much, surely an educated daughter that was a little forward was better than a very dull one, and it was, after all, not her plan to marry one of her daughters to Herr Darcy.

"Guten Abend, Herr Darcy. Wie schoen, Sie kennenzulernen. Wie geht es Ihnen?"

"Mary, will you stop talking foreign gibberish to Mr. Hare-Darcy! He certainly is used better behaviour from East Anglia!"

Not aware that he was supposed to be from East Anglia, Herr Darcy merely blinked at Mr. Bennet's remark and addressed Miss Mary. " Vielen Dank, Fraeulein Mary. May I remark zat you speak German very vell?" Mary blushed appropriately.

Mr. Bennet obviously had not noticed that Mr. Hare-Darcy had spoken "foreign gibberish" and only saw that the East Anglian had talked to his bookish daughter. Eager to forward their relationship as well as that of Jane and Mr. Bingley, he addressed himself to the gentlemen "Does not the sight of all these pretty young ladies make you want to dance, gentlemen? I dare say if I were younger, and they were not my daughters, who knows -" Realising what was demanded of him, Mr. Bingley quickly asked Miss Bennet who had struck him as the prettiest of the five girls, whether she was free for the next two dances. "Upon my word, sir, if she were not, I would make her, for she certainly should better dance with you than with one of the sons of that Sir William Lucas! Off with you both to the dance-floor, I say." Turning to Herr Darcy, he continued, "now we only have to find a pretty partner for you, Mr. Hare-Darcy."

"Zank you, but I do not dance. Mrs. Bennet, it vas a pleasure meeting you and your daughters." With that, he bowed and left them, possibly to sit in a quiet corner and determine why he had been called Mr. Herr Darcy all the time.

Although he had noticed her almost angelic beauty at once, Mr. Bingley had asked Miss Bennet for a dance primarily because he was afraid of being dragged onto the dance-floor by her father. As soon as he had her to himself, however, he noticed that she did not only look like an angel (he had dropped the "almost" as soon as he had the chance to properly look into her eyes), but that she also made a very pleasing partner, and that he really liked to talk to her.

"Mr. Bingley, I heard that you brought your sisters to Hertfordshire?"

"Yes, I did, Miss Bennet. You might see them over there - the lady talking to the gentleman is my sister Mrs. Hurst, and next to her is my sister Miss Bingley, talking to Herr Darcy."

"Your friend comes from Germany, I take it?"

"Oh, yes, he does. His father was English, though, so he has an estate in Derbyshire, but he has spent most of his life in Germany. Have you ever been to Germany?"

"No, I never travelled much. I always liked it best at home, where all my friends and my family are. Do you like to travel, sir?"

"Oh, I do like to come to new places, where I can meet so many pleasing people, and you see I was fortunate enough to take my family with me, so I dare say I shall feel at home here very soon, don't you think so?"

Elizabeth Bennet had not had the luck of her sister, and due to the scarcity of gentleman, been obliged to sit during the first two dances. She had at first hoped that Herr Darcy might ask her to dance, but he seemed to shy to ask someone to dance, or perhaps he did not understand the language, she thought. She almost felt sorry for him, being in a foreign country, and not understanding the language, but her opinion of him was soon changed when she overheard a conversation between him and Mr. Bingley, when the later went to fetch his dancing partner something to drink.

"I dare say, Darcy, I must have you dance. I could not have you stand there all alone on your own the whole evening, when there are so many pretty girls to dance with."

"Zank you, Bingley, but you know zat I rarely dance. And I do not know any of zese ladies, except your sisters, and zey do not vant to dance. Besides, you are talking vith the only of zese English country girls zat I would call pretty."

"Oh, she is an angel, Darcy, the most beautiful creature I ever beheld. But look, one of her sisters is not dancing at the moment, shall I ask Miss Bennet to introduce you?"

"No, zanks, Bingley, but I really do not vant to dance vith a country girl zat has come just out of ze kitchen and zat does not even know vere Berlin is. I really can spent my time better."

Part Two

Posted on Monday, 5 June 2006

For Jane, the evening was certainly very agreeable. She danced thrice with Mr. Bingley, was introduced to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, Mr. Bingley's sister, who expressed a wish of knowing her better, and was asked by Mr. Bingley whether he might call upon her some day that week, preferably the next. Mary danced with several of the young men from Meryton, but it did not give her half as much pleasure as being able to provide information on European geography, which Mrs. Long needed, and correcting a Latin formulation a young lawyer from Meryton (who had only recently come into the area, and did not know her yet) had used carelessly in her presence. Kitty and Lydia danced every dance, and flirted with every officer available. Elizabeth was at first put out by Herr Darcy's remark, but decided not to care about it. She enjoyed relating her experience to her sister Mary (Jane being too busy to be told anything) and Charlotte Lucas, who was her good friend, despite their fathers' rivalry. Mrs. Bennet spent an enjoyable evening chatting with her friends Mrs. King and Mrs. Long, discussing poetry and European politics (Mrs. King being of the opinion that the peace of Amiens could not last) as well the latest fashion.

Sir William Lucas had decided to retire into an adjacent chamber, where the gentlemen could play at cards, early in the evening. Mr. Bennet, who had sworn to himself to keep an eye on his neighbour, for fear the latter could find some husbands for his daughters, had to follow him. It did not really suit him to leave the responsibility for his daughters with his wife - would she make sure they danced every dance? Would she force Jane into Mr. Bingley's company as much as possible? Would she see to it that Mary did not find any books, and that Elizabeth did not scare away any gentlemen by her comments? - but what was he to do? All he could do was to remind his wife to keep an eye on Lady Lucas and leave the room after Sir William.

Therefore, when the family returned home, Mr. Bennet was most anxious to hear all he could about how his daughters had spent the evening, and more importantly, with whom.

'But Mrs. Bennet,' he said, 'certainly you must have noticed with whom Mr. Bingley danced! Did he dance with Miss Lucas?'

'Upon my word, Mr. Bennet, I cannot tell you. I think he did, but then I may be mistaken.'

'Oh! That scheming little minx! Quite like her father!' exclaimed Mr. Bennet, 'and Mr. Hare-Darcy? Did he dance with her?'

'I should not think Herr Darcy would dance with anybody in Meryton. If I understand Lizzy correctly, he fancied himself superior to the rest of us, and did not want to dance with any of your daughters, or Miss Lucas,' said Mrs. Bennet and yawned loudly, hoping that her husband's cross-examination was over soon.

'Did he, indeed? Who does he think he is, coming here with all his money, and not dancing with my daughters! I'm only glad he is not an officer, for otherwise my poor Liddy would be severely disappointed,' he said with a look at his youngest daughter, who snored loudly in the chair she had fallen asleep in after she had proudly given her dance-card to her father. (Mr. Bennet had the habit of demanding his daughters' dance-cards after balls, in order to check whether they had danced as often as he could wish for, and with the most desirable (read: rich) gentleman.)

'Well, anyway, I will not care about him at all. He can be as rich as he may - and Sir William Lucas told me that he has an estate in Derbyshire that earns ten thousand pounds a year, and a big house in Berlin - if he does not want to marry anybody, what good is that then?' he added.

Jane, Elizabeth and Mary only had the opportunity to discuss the ball after they had retired, Mary sneaking - as she often did - in her sisters' room.

'Mr. Bingley seems to be a very agreeable gentleman, does he not?' Elizabeth said and managed to look almost as innocently as Jane.

'Oh, he certainly is! I had such a good time, talking to him and his sisters,' Jane said enthusiastically.

'And he is very handsome, is he not?' Mary continued, knowing exactly what Lizzy had in mind.

'Oh, yes...' said Jane dreamily, before she noticed Mary's grin and Lizzy's stifled giggle. 'I mean to say, he has such an open countenance and easy manners, that everybody must think him very attractive and certainly very manly - I mean, gentlemanly, not, err...' Jane blushed and broke off.

'And, being drawn to his open countenance, and easy manners, nobody will notice his very manly figure: his broad shoulders, his firm hands...' Lizzy could not continue, due to a giggling fit.

'Lizzy! I certainly never said such a thing!' said Jane indignantly. She cleared her throat, and suddenly she was once more her composed and angelic self. 'I merely think that Mr. Bingley's society as well as that of his sisters seems to be rather agreeable, and I would not mind getting to know the family better.'

'Well, neither do I,' said Lizzy, 'if you like Mr. Bingley, for you have liked many a stupider person.'

'I never said I liked Mr. Bingley!' Jane protested. 'Certainly, one would not use such a word after only one evening's acquaintance.'

'It is all right, Jane,' Mary said, 'I am sure nobody else noticed, for you were quite composed during the ball. Only Lizzy and I noticed, knowing you so well.'

'And anyway,' said Lizzy hastily, before Jane could protest again, 'like you said, Mr. Bingley has so easy manners that everybody must like him. Now, if you had said you liked Herr Darcy, I would be more concerned. That man certainly has manners that make nobody like him! Though I must confess,' she added, 'that he does not look bad. But I most certainly do not like him.'

Like in every bigger house around Meryton, the Assembly Ball was also discussed at Netherfield, or rather, Mr. Bingley entertained his guests by describing the angelic qualities of Jane Bennet to them.

'And her hair - did you notice her hair? The colour is quite unusual, more golden than actually blonde -'

'Yes, Bingley, you said zat before. Ve are all avare of ze fact zat she looks like an angel and zat zerefore her hair and her face and in short everyzing about her looks like a part of an angel. I vill admit zat she is razer pretty, and certainly more pretty zan ze rest of ze girls zat vere zere zis evening, but I must say zat zis does not say much; you cannot expect great beauty and vit at a rural assembly such as zis; and indeed, I did not find zem.'

'Oh, come on Darcy, how can you be such a severe critic? I know that Meryton is not London, but indeed, the girls were uncommonly pretty, and everybody was so friendly towards us; and as regards wit, well I certainly spent a very nice evening with Miss Bennet. She does not only look like an angel, but it is also very nice to talk to her, and we got along exceedingly well - '

'Miss Bennet is a nice girl, to be sure,' said Miss Bingley and yawned, 'and I think neither Louisa nor I should be sorry to meet her and the two elder of her four sisters again, who are perhaps not pretty, but certainly very well-behaved. The other people, though! Charles, you must have noticed that they were rather vulgar! Apart from your Miss Bennet and her sisters, most of them had most shocking manners, and their dress! Their hairstyles!'

'She is not my Miss Bennet,' said Mr. Bingley hastily and blushed, 'she could be nobody's possession. It is she who owns the world. She is an angel, a true angel. Her beauty is most divine, and not only does she look like she was sent directly from heaven, her voice is most sweet, like the voice of an angel, and the soft gleam in her eyes is exactly like that of an angel -'

'Tell me Bingley, how many angels have you met, zat you know vhat exactly zey look like?' muttered Herr Darcy, but neither Mr. Bingley, who was informing the room in general about the angelic qualities of Jane Bennet's ears, nor Miss Bingley, who tried to stifle another yawn, nor the Hursts, who had fallen asleep on the sofa, listened to him. As nobody else made any other contribution to the discussion, Mr. Bingley felt free to think Miss Bennet as angelic as it pleased him, that is to say, as angelic as it is possible to imagine.

Sir William Lucas, Mr. Bennet's rival, and his family lived a mile out of Netherfield, in a house that Sir William Lucas had christened "Lucas Lodge", when he bought it. He preferred, though, that it be known only as "The Lodge" in the area, because, as he said, 'it was the only house around Meryton of "The Lodge's" size and importance'. That, of course, always made Mr. Bennet go purple with anger, for, as he pointed out, 'that Lodge thingy was perhaps a little larger than Longbourn, but the Longbourn estate gave more money - and anyway, Sir William Lucas had only moved in ten years ago, whereas Longbourn was in the family for decades - decades during which the Lucases had still kept their shop'. Neither of the fathers, therefore, was quite happy that the Misses Bennet and the Misses Lucas should be friends, but as Mrs. Bennet supported the friendship, and Lady Lucas often went with her daughters to Longbourn in order to spy on the Bennets, neither of the fathers could do much about it, except inform their daughters about the other family's horrible schemes.

It was therefore no wonder for anyone that on the day after the Assembly Ball, Lady Lucas brought Miss Lucas and Miss Maria to Longbourn, ostensibly to allow the girls time to chat about the ball, but in reality to find out what exactly had gone on between Miss Bennet and Mr. Bingley, and if there was still any chance for her Charlotte left. Mr. Bennet, although he despised the Lucases, was very glad to have this opportunity to inform Lady Lucas how often exactly Mr. Bingley had danced with Jane (he had forced the information out of Jane during breakfast, telling her that he would be severely disappointed if she did not tell him). It would of course have been better if Sir William himself had come, Mr. Bennet thought, but one could not have everything. He therefore forced Mrs. Bennet to stay with him, his daughters and the visitors in the drawing-room so that she could witness his triumph over Lady Lucas. (Whenever Sir William or Lady Lucas, or, even worse, her sister, Mrs. Philips, announced themselves, it was Mrs. Bennet's habit to retire into the library, under the pretence of having to supervise the dusting of the books - Jane, Elizabeth and Mary often followed her within minutes, claiming that 'the library was so large, one person alone could not supervise all of the dusting'. This day, however, Mrs. Bennet was to witness how her husband stabbed all of Lady Lucas' hopes.)

'What a nice ball that was!' said Mr. Bennet while everybody sat down. 'And our new neighbour seems to be very pleasing, does he not?'

'Upon my word, he does! I heard he has five thousand pounds a year.' Lady Lucas smiled forcedly, thinking how well her Charlotte would do with five thousand pounds a year.

'Oh, I do not care about such things at all!' exclaimed Mr. Bennet, 'if only my daughters are happy, I should not care how much money their husbands make. All I want for my daughters is an agreeable and friendly young gentleman.'

'Too true, too true. Everybody who is a good parent is concerned only with the happiness of one's children,' agreed Lady Lucas.

'And Mr. Bingley is a very friendly young gentlemen, I must say,' added Mr. Bennet, getting ready for his final move.

'He seemed quite taken with your Jane, one might say,' said Lucas, thereby making a tactical mistake.

'Oh! I would not say such a thing for the world!' said Mr. Bennet, preparing his death blow. 'To be true, he danced with her thrice, and asked if he might visit us some day soon, but I would not call that preferment. It is certainly nothing more than friendliness.'

'Oh, yes...' said Lady Lucas faintly, trying to recover from the shock.

Elizabeth could take it no longer. 'Charlotte, my mother recently acquired a new copy of Fordyce's Sermons. Would you care to see it? Jane and I might show you. And then there is that new Finnish Grammar that Mary bought. I am sure she would love you to see it.'

'Oh, I should like that very well indeed,' said Charlotte, trying to suppress a smile.

'I will join you,' said Mrs. Bennet as soon as the four girls rose, 'I had the maid dust the library just yesterday, you might not find it.'

'Mrs. Bennet takes great care that every part of the house is thoroughly dusted,' Mr. Bennet informed Lady Lucas as soon as the door had closed behind his wife, 'especially the library, and she taught the girls how to keep a house in order. It is such things that a man does value in his wife, you must know. I dare say all five of them shall find wonderful husbands, they have so much to recommend them - just like your daughters, of course.'

'Well, Lizzy, did you tell Jane about the conquest you made?' Charlotte asked when they all had sat down in the library and Mrs. Bennet had put a copy of Fordyce's Sermons on the table, in case anyone should enter.

'I did not make any conquest!' said Jane at once. 'I do admit that Mr. Bingley is a very friendly young gentleman, and very good looking, but I have not known him for more than one evening, and even though he has the most interesting eyes I have ever seen, it is certainly far too early -'

'It is alright, Jane,' Mary said and put a hand on her sister's arm, 'I think Charlotte was asking after Herr Darcy.'

'Oh. Him.' Jane said a little confused, 'he's not very handsome, is he? Not at all like Mr. Bingley.'

'He is very handsome,' said Lizzy, 'but I do not like him at all, and I am neither attracted to his black curls nor to his brown eyes.'

'He seemed quite taken with you,' said Charlotte and smiled, 'he noticed your intelligence.'

'Oh, he saw right through me. A country girl zat has come just out of ze kitchen and zat does not even know vere Berlin is. This is so very silly, I am not even insulted by it - apart from the fact that he apparently did not even care whether I over-heard him or not. He may think that I do not know where Berlin is, but he must be aware of the fact that I understand plain English, must he not?'

'Perhaps', said Mary, 'he is not used to care about what other people think about his behaviour.'

'Well, he certainly did not care about the opinion of a country girl zat has come just out of ze kitchen and zat does not even know vere Berlin is.' Lizzy had by now - having practiced all day - got quite the hang of imitating Herr Darcy, and all the girls - even the slightly distracted Jane - laughed, until Mrs. Bennet reminded them that somebody might come and inquire what was going on in the library.

Part Three

Posted on Thursday, 15 June 2006

Just as he had promised, Mr. Bingley called on the family at Longbourn two days after the Assembly Ball, and he made his sisters, his brother and Herr Darcy accompany him. Elizabeth used this opportunity to watch Mr. Bingley's sisters, whom Jane had mentioned as very accomplished and pleasing ladies, carefully. She soon found out that they were perhaps more accomplished than really pleasing. It was most amusing for Elizabeth to watch Miss Bingley. Behaving gracefully and treating all those around her amicably (although Elizabeth suspected that most of her friendliness was superficial), she turned into a giggling copy of Lydia whenever she addressed Herr Darcy, or whenever she looked his way. Apart from that, Elizabeth did not wish to form a deeper intimacy with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. They knew how to make themselves agreeable, that much was certain, but especially in Miss Bingley, Elizabeth witnessed some contempt for her family. To a certain extent, Elizabeth could not even blame her. While her mother, though she had again a terrible pain in her bad ear, was friendly to all her guests, Mr. Bennet's shrill calls to his youngest daughter pierced Elizabeth's ears just as much as their guests', and only a very stern glance from Mrs. Bennet prevented Mr. Bennet from forcing Mr. Bingley and Jane to take a stroll through the rainy gardens. Herr Darcy had settled himself on a chair in some corner of the room and taken up a book that Mary had left one a table nearby.

'Why, Herr Darcy!" Miss Bingley suddenly called out, having noticed him in the corner. "You are reading again!'

'Indeed, I am,' said Herr Darcy and put aside the book. 'You spotted zat exceedingly vell.'

'Oh, how could you, Herr Darcy!' said Miss Bingley and walked over to him to confiscate the book. 'You must know that it is your duty to entertain the ladies!'

'You know zat I am no great entertainer, Fraeulein Bingley,' said Herr Darcy and ignored her giggles, 'and zis is a very fine edition of Utopia, and I vished to have a look at it.'

'Oh, you and your books!' exclaimed Miss Bingley with rather more temper than necessary. 'Do you really have to bury yourself in your books all the time!'

'You know, I can understand Miss Bingley, my dear Mr. Hare-Darcy', Mr. Bennet, who had witnessed their conversation, suddenly interrupted her, 'it does not do for a fine young gentleman like you to read all the time. No wonder you haven't found yourself a wife yet, if you pay attention only to your books.'

Miss Bingley looked almost thankful for Mr. Bennet's remark, but Herr Darcy muttered something about urgent business he had to attend to, and excused himself from their company, taking Mr. Bingley, his sisters and his brother with him. It was only after half an hour after Mr. Bingley had gone that Jane was able to talk comprehensively again, and even then, she still looked dreamily out of the window from time to time.

Far from becoming better as she became used to Mr. Bingley's presence, Jane's ability to concentrate became worse with every evening she spent with him. Jane's easy temper and her cheerful remarks to everybody did not give her away while in company, but as soon as she was alone with her sisters, all her composure was lost, and it was a very demanding task for Elizabeth and Mary to make her concentrate on changing into her nightgown, washing her face and brushing her teeth. After the fourth dinner party, they had needed more than one hour to get Jane ready, and still she denied that she was in any way affected by Mr. Bingley, and claimed that she was 'not at all drawn to his blue eyes, the colour of the sky on a beautiful summer morning', although she admitted that they were very handsome on a man, 'especially on a man with such a handsome and yet manly face as Mr. Bingley'.

When Mary and Elizabeth set out for a walk the next morning (they left Jane behind, because she was not much fit for long walks these days - every squirrel she saw, every bird she heard distracted her from walking, and made her wonder about how beautiful life was. Which was precisely the point on which she would remember that Mr. Bingley's blue eyes were even more beautiful than any squirrel, at which point she would forget that she was supposed to walk, and instead think about what a wonderful chat she had had with Mr. Bingley just the previous evening, and what nice things he had said about squirrels, birds, puppies and kittens. Which is why Elizabeth and Mary left Jane with their mother.), they met Charlotte Lucas, who had obviously just escaped from home in order to enjoy a quiet cup of tea in Mrs. Bennet's library. When she inquired after Jane, she was told the whole story about Jane's distraction.

'Then why,' was her comment, 'does she not show him that she is so much attracted to him? Everyone can see that he is much in love with her, so why should she wish to hide her feelings?'

'Dear Charlotte!' exclaimed Elizabeth, 'she will not even confess to herself that she likes him! How can she be supposed to let him know?'

'How can he be supposed to know if she does not show her feelings?' answered Charlotte, 'and he certainly will not propose to her if she does not show her feelings more clearly.'

'But she cannot think about marriage now!' cried Elizabeth. 'After such a short time! She is very much attracted to him, surely, but I think a marriage should be built on more than a fancy for blue eyes and manly hands.'

'What Charlotte wants to say,' said Mary, 'is, I think, that Jane can always discover Mr. Bingley's qualities after they're married, but that she should secure him now before Lady Lucas tries to match him with Charlotte, who is two years his senior.'

'I never said such a thing!' Charlotte protested, 'but I fear it is true. I meant to warn you, that is why I came over. My parents will be hosting a large dinner party next Tuesday, in honour of Mr. Bingley, or Herr Darcy, whoever proposes to me first. You are invited as well, and I do not think Mr. Bennet will let you not attend it.'

'We would never let you face such an evening alone, with Jane busy chatting about puppies with Mr. Bingley,' said Mary solemnly.

'We're friends, after all,' said Elizabeth, 'shall we go home and have tea with mama? Her ear is worse again, but she says you have such a quiet voice, she will like to talk to you.'

Charlotte was of course right, Mr. Bennet would not have let them not attend his rival's party. Even Kitty, who had started coughing again, and Mrs. Bennet, whose ear was still not better, were to come. Jane's gown was closely inspected by her father before they left. Ever since Mr. Bingley ad begun to show an interest in her, Mr. Bennet wanted to make sure that he did never see her in a gown that was not absolutely flattering, and that such a gown did not have any kitten hair on it. Jane had again been too distracted for dressing, and Sarah, the maid, had needed both Miss Elizabeth's and Miss Mary's help to get her ready in time. Lydia was again wearing a gown with a daringly low neckline, and Mr. Bennet forbade his wife any attempts to force a lace shawl on his favourite daughter. Jane smiled dreamily when she left the house, but Mary grinned. She had finally managed to smuggle her Latin grammar into her bag, hiding it among a stack of tunes, telling her father that she 'might want to play one or two of these in order to show off her talents if there were any eligible young gentlemen present'. Mr. Bennet congratulated himself on having managed to train his daughters so well, and they left.

The party was precisely what Elizabeth had expected, loud and bustling. To nobody's surprise, as soon as Jane arrived, Mr. Bingley greeted her and asked her a question about the local fauna, and for the rest of the evening, she hardly spoke to anyone else. After dinner, Elizabeth and Charlotte retired to a sofa in a corner of the room, where they were less likely to be spotted by their fathers. They had asked Mary to join them, but she was the focus of attraction of the young Masters Lucas, who had discovered that she did not only speak Latin, but was also willing to explain some difficulties with their homework to them. The young clerk, who had been told off by Mary for the wrong use of a gerund also secretly listened, though he pretended to admire a watercolour made by Miss Lucas.

'Did you notice, Lizzy,' said the very same Miss Lucas in that very moment, 'that Herr Darcy has been staring at you for five minutes?'

'I did, and I wonder what he means by it,' answered Elizabeth, 'he also listened when I was talking to Colonel Forster before. Why, I have had the feeling that he has been tailing me for several evenings now.'

'Oh, Lizzy, he seems to be interested in you!' exclaimed Charlotte, 'and he must be very rich, you lucky girl.'

'Nonsense, Charlotte! If he watches me at all, it is only to find more fault with me, for he thinks I am a mere maid, remember. Those eyes of his - though they are certainly handsome - are like an open book, and I can read that he only wants to hold me in contempt. But shh! - he comes over, and I shall let him know that I looked right through him.'

'Lizzy, no,' said Miss Lucas weakly, but it was too late -

'Herr Darcy! Are you enjoying yourself in the country? It is a little bit quiet here, to be sure, but you must have noticed that I asked Colonel Forster to host a ball. Such a ball will be very merry, do you not think so?'

'If you say zat, my dear Fraeulein, zen I am sure zat it is so.'

'And you most have heard that I pressed Colonel Forster much vigorously to hold such a ball, so we may indeed expect it to happen.'

'I have learned zat zis is a subject on vhich most ladies have very firm opinions, so I vill not dare to contradict you.'

'Oh, Herr Darcy, you are teasing me! You want to reveal me as somebody who takes interest in balls only. I assure you, I am interested in a great many things.'

'Music being one of them,' said Charlotte and smiled, 'which is why you will certainly agree to entertain us all with a song as soon as I open the pianoforte.'

'You must excuse me, Herr Darcy, you see that I am torn away from you.'

Herr Darcy was left alone to admire her, as he had done on previous occasions (Elizabeth had been right, he had, to a certain extent, observed her), and it once again struck him that she was as pretty as her sister, the angelic Jane (which was what Herr Darcy used to call her in private after he had heard several monologues about her beauty from Mr. Bingley), perhaps even prettier than Jane, for Herr Darcy preferred brunettes (his sister, his mother, his aunt and his cousin were all - as part of their Prussian heritage - tall and blonde, though not as angelic as the angelic Jane, and Herr Darcy had never been attracted to a blonde woman). It were her eyes that interested him most, though, to his mind, they were the colour of coffee with just a very little milk in it (for Herr Darcy did not like chocolate and abhorred clichés). He was rather happy that she was just an English country girl, for were she a lady of Berlin, or Koenigsberg, he might have felt attracted to her. Herr Darcy did not like being attracted to women, it made one do funny things, and Herr Darcy preferred to act always respectably. He still did admire her eyes - disinterestedly, of course, and it was such that Miss Bingley found him.

'Here you are, Herr Darcy! Hiding again from us ladies! I cannot call that good manners.'

'I am exceedingly sorry zat I have disappointed you, Fraeulein Caroline. I vas lost in zought.'

'Oh, Herr Darcy, how funny! Thinking at a dinner party! Who did you think about?'

'Fraeulein Elisabeth Be- I never said zat I vas zinking about a person. I vas zinking about guns and shooting and killing little animals.'

Miss Bingley had been quite shocked to hear that her object was thinking about another lady while she was present, but was relieved to discover it was only meant as a joke.

'Miss Elizabeth! You are being very funny indeed, Herr Darcy! Who would think about Miss Elizabeth, indeed! She does not have any beauty, does she?'

'Zere is a certain gleam in her very fine eyes zat is most pleasing to ze observer.'

'Oh, yes. I dare say she had too much cooking sherry back at her farm.'

Elizabeth, meanwhile, had been obliged to give up her place at the pianoforte, for Mr. Bennet had forced Mary to play (having observed the clerk's attention, he thought he should better further his interest). Mary had just opened the pages of an aria she knew to be particularly boring (she could hope that somebody would find an excuse to take over the pianoforte if she played dreadful pieces and sang off-key, which had been her tactic for several years now, for Mary hated performing to strangers), when her younger sister entreated her. 'Mary, you must play something to dance to! Your operas do not interest anybody, and Denny has said he will dance with me if you play.'

'This aria,' said Mary in her stiffest voice, 'is a very important piece in the development of Italian mid-sixteenth century music, and I am sure everybody would enjoy hearing it profoundly.'

'Mary!' cried Lydia, 'you spoil everything!' Turning around, she cried, 'Papa! Make her play something to dance! I want to dance with Denny!'

All Mrs. Bennet could do was cover her ears. 'My poor Liddy! You want to dance, and you shall!'

Mary grimaced and began a well-rehearsed minuet. It was not as if she had not expected it, but one could always try, she thought. And she was escaping that young clerk who kept saying horribilis dictum when he meant horribile dictu, and had not known the passive voice of facere.

Sir William Lucas saw that Mr. Bingley still had eyes only for Jane Bennet, and thought it best to secure Herr Darcy for his daughter. Not knowing that the said gentleman was still admiring Miss Elizabeth's eyes (now sparkling as she could not help but smile at poor Mary's distress), Sir William Lucas approached him.

'Capital dancing!' he said and pointed at Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia, who were dancing with Lt. Denny and Master Lucas, respectively. 'Though I am sure you must have seen superior dancing at St. James'.'

'I have not been zere, mein Herr,' said Herr Darcy stiffer than Mary would ever manage.

'Never been at St. James' Palace?'

'No. I have been at Sanssouci once vhen I vas younger,' and with that, Herr Darcy made to turn back to admiring Miss Elizabeth, but Sir William would of course not let him escape so easily.

'Does one dance at Sannsy?' he asked, not knowing what Sanssouci was.

'Not if one can avoid zat.'

'Do you not care for dancing, then? I am sure you must be a very good dancer.'

Herr Darcy bowed.

'Why, Herr Darcy, you should dance. Let me find you a pretty young partner' - he turned around in order to beckon to his daughter, but unfortunately, the only young lady near him was the daughter of his rival, Miss Elizabeth Bennet - 'yes, Miss Bennet here certainly would love to dance with you. Let me present her to you as a very accomplished partner.'

Elizabeth (whose ears were, unlike those of her mother, good enough to hear exactly about what the two gentlemen were talking) had witnessed Herr Darcy's displeasure at the mention of dancing and was in half a mind to accept Sir William Lucas proposal, but the thought of having to spend half an hour in Herr Darcy's silent but unnerving company, serving as an object of his contempt won.

'Oh, Sir William Lucas, I assure you, neither Herr Darcy nor I are inclined to dance at the moment. Do not assume that I came here to ask for a partner, when I only wanted to congratulate you to your capital party.'

'But I - ' was all Herr Darcy could say, but neither Sir William Lucas nor Elizabeth could hear him, as they were engaged in a conversation about the dinner, and all Herr Darcy could do was think about how much more beautiful Miss Elizabeth's eyes were when she was smiling.

Author's Note

horribile dictu - it is terrible to say
facere - to do
Mein Herr - rough equivalent of "sir"
Sanssouci - the palace built by the Prussian King Frederick II, out of Berlin in Potsdam. The name literally means "without worry"

Part Four

Not many days after the party at Lucas Lodge, the Bennet family were once again settled at the breakfast table, when Mr Bennet received a letter from his sister-in-law, Mrs Phillips, the wife of a lawyer, who lived in Meryton. Within this letter, she informed her brother and her nieces (and of course her sister as well, although she doubted Mrs Bennet would be interested) that no less than fifteen officers had joined the headquarters of the militia in Meryton. ‘Of course, I have forced Mr Phillips to visit them at once, and he will do so today, which is why you must all come and meet the officers tomorrow,' she wrote.

‘Officers!' exclaimed Mr Bennet. ‘Oh my, I am quite overwhelmed! Only imagine! Fifteen at once! Officers!'

Suddenly he noticed that he was not the only one who had had mail this morning. His daughter Jane was in this very moment unfolding a very fine sheet of paper.

‘What is it, Jane?' he demanded at once.

‘It is a letter,' his wife said. ‘People use it to communicate it with each other.'

‘I know that,' Mr Bennet snapped, ‘I've seen letters before.'

He grabbed Jane's letter before she could do anything to prevent it. ‘I want to know who is writing to Jane.'

‘You need not worry, father,' said Jane. ‘It is from Miss Bingley. I would never read letters if it were not proper for me to read them.'

‘The more to worry for me, certainly,' said her father, ‘how shall Mr Bingley ever propose to you if you will not even read his letters?'

‘But, papa - ' Jane protested weakly and blushed.

‘Oh, he will propose one day, Jane, or I will make him, mark my words,' her father said and perused her letter, ‘but let me find out what Miss Bingley tells you. Perhaps she is writing on behalf of her brother.'

‘My dear friend, you find me in a state of distress - Herr Darcy, Mr Hurst and my brother have been invited to dine with the officers - dine with the officers? What does he mean by it? I certainly have not been invited! - and Louisa and I are to spend the day all by ourselves. Please come over at your earliest convenience, or else we might very well end up quarrelling, as sisters on their own are prone to do. Yours affectionately, etc. Well, it could be better, could it not? Mr Bingley not at home at all. You must still go, of course.'

‘I should like to go, father,' Jane said. ‘Miss Bingley is such a charming creature.' Elizabeth could not help but wonder whether they had both listened to the same letter. ‘Can I have the carriage, papa?'

‘The carriage?' exclaimed Mr Bennet. ‘That would ruin everything, dear! You must go on horseback, of course.'

‘But papa, it looks like it could begin to rain every moment,' said Elizabeth.

‘Well, to be sure it does! She will have to spend the night at Netherfield, and be engaged before breakfast tomorrow, you mark my words, Miss Lizzy! Wait only until Sir William Lucas hears of it!'

‘It might rain before she arrives at Netherfield, though,' Mary said, ‘in which event she would be quite soaked.'

‘Nonsense!' her father protested. ‘Those horses are awfully fast creatures.'

‘But do you need the carriage today, papa?' asked Elizabeth. ‘It would be more comfortable for Jane to go by carriage anyway.'

‘The horses are needed at the farm, I believe, but I do not really have the time to look into those matters as well.'

‘Luckily I spoke to the steward just this morning,' Mrs Bennet interrupted, ‘and he assured me that he would not need the horses until tomorrow, so Jane is free to have the carriage if she likes. Why do we not leave it to Jane to decide how she wants to get to Netherfield?'

Jane was obviously at a loss here. Her father, her mother, Mary and Elizabeth all had given their opinion, and certainly they all only meant her best - to whom should she listen? She did not want to disappoint any of them.

‘Well,' she said in the end, ‘I am certain it will not rain if I ride very fast, and I could always take the carriage another day.'
‘It is your decision, Jane,' said her mother gently.

‘Yes, I think I will ride,' said Jane now more firmly. ‘You know, it is such a beautiful day, I am sure papa is right, it probably will not rain until later.'

Elizabeth was wondering whether Jane was looking out of a different window. Outside were dark grey clouds on the sky and it was very windy.

Therefore, Jane quickly donned her riding costume, Mr Bennet made sure that the costume as well as the horse itself matched the colour of Jane's hair, and off she rode in an almost reckless gallop. Not five minutes later, it began to rain, and it did not stop until nightfall. All the time during supper, Mr Bennet entertained his family with vivid description of Jane's future, beginning with Mr Bingley's proposal over the fried tomatoes at breakfast next morning, describing her wedding in Meryton in glorious colours, wondering about her magnificent townhouse and the dowry of her daughters, and ending with Mr Bingley being knighted and Jane dying as Lady Bingley.

‘I am worrying about Jane,' said Elizabeth to Mary when they retired. ‘I do hope she did not get too wet, you know she does catch a cold so easily, and with Mr Bingley around, her mind is so distracted, she will probably not even notice that she is wet, and stay in her wet clothes all day.'

‘I am concerned, too,' said Mary, ‘but let us hope that we worry too much. She probably is, at this very moment, very snug and comfortable in Mr Bingley's -'

‘Mary!' said Elizabeth. ‘How could you assume such a thing of sweet Jane!'

‘Mr Bingley's prettiest guest room, I wanted to say,' Mary said calmly. ‘What were you thinking, Lizzy?'

The next morning brought news from Jane; she had indeed been obliged to stay the night at Netherfield and sent a note to Elizabeth and Mary, explaining her absence.

‘Well, what does it say?' Mr Bennet demanded. ‘Is she engaged already?'

‘No, she is not,' said Elizabeth, ‘and it does not sound like she will be very soon. My dear sisters, I do not find myself very well this morning. Riding through the rain probably did not agree with me, and now my throat is a little sore and I have an ever so slight headache; but do not be alarmed, I am sure it is nothing serious, and it is only I who is to blame. My kind hostess was determined to send for the apothecary, so you may hear that he visited me, but I assure you I will be alright in a couple of days. I am in very good care here, so do not worry about me - Convey my best wishes to mama and papa, Kitty and Lydia, the dog and the kittens, especially Mr Paws, who must miss me very much already - Your sister, etc. '

‘Oh, good, so she will have to stay several days there. She will return as an engaged woman, you mark my words, girls.'

‘But papa, she is unwell!' exclaimed Elizabeth. ‘She may not say it, but I fear she has a terrible cold. You know how she is prone to catch a cold.'

‘Ah! Nonsense! She is the healthiest of girls, and she will make an excellent wife for Mr Bingley. You hear what she writes, she will be alright in a couple of days. And until then, she must stay at Netherfield! Hah! Wait until Sir William Lucas hears about it!'

‘And if she does not recover,' said Mrs Bennet, ‘you shall of course see to it that they are wed with a special license on her deathbed, and send an express to the king to knight Mr Bingley, so that she shall die as Lady Bingley after all.'

But Mr Bennet was not listening, he was already formulating a letter that Kitty was to send to Maria Lucas, informing her about Jane spending the night at Netherfield and probably already being engaged ‘although they may have later breakfast hours at Netherfield, which may be the reason why she has not yet informed us about her engagement.'

‘I think I shall visit Jane,' said Elizabeth, ‘and see how ill she really is, you know how she always makes light of her colds.'

‘I will come with you,' said Mary at once. ‘And I will bring Mr Paws in my bag, you know how she will long to see him.'

‘But you cannot have the carriage today, girls,' said Mrs Bennet, ‘you know the steward needs the horses.'

‘Do not worry, we will walk,' said Elizabeth, ‘for today it really does not look like it would rain.'

‘I will walk with you,' said her mother, ‘I suppose a mother should be informed about her daughters' health - no, do not worry, my dears, I do not fear a little walking, and I want to see Jane.'

She then looked at her husband, who was still busy composing Kitty's note.

‘My dear Mr Bennet, Elizabeth, Mary and I are now walking to Netherfield. You may expect us back for supper.'

‘All right, my dear,' said Mr Bennet absent-mindedly, ‘tell Mr Bingley I approve of the engagement and he shall arrange for the wedding whatever he likes.'

‘Oh dear,' said Mrs Bennet as they arrived at Netherfield, ‘I think something rather nasty happened to my petticoat and stockings.'

‘You must simply lower your skirts, mother,' said Elizabeth, ‘that is what I will do.'

‘I brought spare stockings for us all,' Mary said brightly and pointed to her ever-present bag, which was this morning hosting not only a Greek grammar, a copy of the Iliad and the spare stockings, but also Jane's favourite kitten, ‘but I fear Mr Paws has fallen asleep upon them, and I do not want to disturb him, he always gets angry when one does so.'

‘Well, we can do nothing but pray that Mr Bingley and Herr Darcy do not see our stockings, then,' said Elizabeth, ‘and hope that we will have access to the spare stockings when Jane has woken up Mr Paws.'

They were shown into the breakfast chamber upon their arrival, where all except Jane were assembled. Miss Bingley looked once at their ankles, then exchanged a look with Mrs Hurst and almost snorted into her coffee, but managed to disguise it as a cough. Mr Bingley became very worried when he heard her coughing, and remarked how lucky she was that the apothecary would arrive any minute and be able to inspect her throat. This, of course, reminded him that poor Jane was upstairs and probably feeling very much unwell (not that he had forgotten her before. Miss Bingley‘s cough only brought back the harsh reality of the angelic Jane being very ill once more before his eyes). He therefore begged her mother and sisters to go upstairs and see Jane at once; to see whether she was really as ill as his sisters claimed, for they must know her best, only their assurances that she would be fine soon could put his mind at rest. Mrs Bennet and her daughters therefore excused themselves and followed him upstairs. They were not in favour of staying in the breakfast chamber in any case, as Mr Bingley was the only one friendly towards them. His sister were still trying to suppress their snickers when they left, Mr Hurst was greedily eyeing the hardly touched bacon and eggs on Mr Bingley's plate, and Herr Darcy had greeted them stiffly before staring at the ceiling again. (He would have preferred to stare out of the window, but Miss Bingley had seated him opposite herself, with his back to the window. He therefore had only the choice of staring at her apricot gown, Mr Hurst and his sausages, or the ceiling).

They found Jane rather weak, but cheerful as always. She was very glad indeed to see her mother and sisters and Mr Paws, who jumped out of Mary's bag and curled up beside Jane the moment he saw her. ‘Dear sweet Mr Paws, he must have missed me,' Jane whispered hoarsely, ‘the poor creature.' She then broke into a coughing fit.

‘My dear, it is you who is the poor creature, not the cat,' said Mrs Bennet and smiled, ‘you have a cold again, and you must feel terribly.'

‘I do feel a bit unwell,' Jane admitted, ‘but I am sure I shall be very well soon. You must not worry, mama.'

‘I do not worry,' said Mrs Bennet, ‘nobody dies of a cold if they are looked after properly. I feel sorry for you, my dear. I know how you always suffer from those terrible headaches and coughing fits, and we cannot even take you back to Longbourn, where Hill and I can look after you.'

They heard a faint knock on the door. ‘Oh, that must be Mr Bingley,' said Mrs Bennet and rose from Jane's bed. ‘I promised him I would tell him what I thought of your condition. He has probably been pacing the corridor ever since we entered your room.'

‘He must not come in,' said Jane, ‘he might catch the cold. Mama, make him stay outside!' She then remembered something. ‘Oh, but he wanted to see Mr Paws. Perhaps if you can bring Mr Paws to Mr Bingley for just a moment, so that he may see him? Oh, but Mr Paws, the poor dear, is sleeping. He would not want to wake up, I am sure. Perhaps Mr Bingley should come in after all?'

‘But think of your swollen nose, Jane,' Mary said, ‘you would not want him to see you with your nose all red, would you?'

‘Oh, what do I care for my nose!' exclaimed Jane, ‘how I hate being ill!'

‘Calm yourself, Jane,' said Elizabeth, ‘I am with you, mama will talk to Mr Bingley, and you can introduce him to Mr Paws when you feel better tomorrow or the day after.'

Mrs Bennet, meanwhile, had left the room in order to assure Mr Bingley that Jane would be fine in a couple of days.

‘It is a cold, as I presumed,' she told him, ‘my poor daughter unfortunately often catches a cold. There is no need to worry, she will be fine in a couple of days, I think. There is only one thing that I would like to ask of you.'

Mr Bingley nervously wrung his hands. ‘Oh, Mrs Bennet, anything that you demand. Just name it.'

‘I fear that we cannot take Jane with us back to Longbourn at the moment. It would be most unwise. I am afraid that we must trespass upon your hospitality a little longer, and ask you to let Jane stay here for one or two days.'

‘But my dear Mrs Bennet, that goes without saying. She shall stay here as long as she likes. And you must of course stay here as well, she will want to have her mother near her.'

Mrs Bennet smiled. ‘Thank you for your offer, Mr Bingley. I would love to stay here, but I am afraid I cannot. I must return to Longbourn, there are several things that I must see to.' (She thought it impolite to add that she did not trust her husband with the estate, or with the sole management of her youngest daughters.) ‘If I may be so bold, however, may I ask that Miss Elizabeth or Miss Mary stay in my stead? They may be able to nurse Miss Bennet, I would not want us to be a burden on your staff.'

‘Of course they shall stay, both of them!' Mr Bingley exclaimed. ‘But as my guests, of course, not as Miss Bennet's nurses. I personally will see to it that the housekeeper ensures that Miss Bennet has everything she needs, and that she is properly taken care of. The apothecary shall arrive any minute, and he will know a remedy.'

‘He will prescribe a mustard plaster,' Mrs Bennet said, ‘I shall leave the recipe with your housekeeper. Allow me to thank you for your hospitality.'

Although she had not asked for it, Jane was very glad that her sisters could stay with her. Mrs Bennet, in turn, was very glad to find such an attentive host in Mr Bingley; his suggestions for Jane's well-being were much more helpful than those of his sisters, who reluctantly accepted Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary (and Mr Paws, but they did not know about him) as additional houseguests. Mr Bingley made sure that every single member of his staff knew that attending to the sick lady was top priority, and when Mrs Bennet took leave of her daughters at three in the afternoon, and went home in Mr Bingley's carriage (the driver being instructed to wait at Longbourn for the box with Miss Bennet's, Miss Elizabeth's and Miss Mary's things that would be sent back to Netherfield), it was with the comforting thought that Jane was in the best of care even though she was not at home. Elizabeth and Mary stayed with Jane for most of the afternoon while their hosts were downstairs discussing their arrival.

‘Herr Darcy, you must have noticed their stockings, have you not?' Miss Bingley giggled.

‘Indeed I did not. I vas instructed not to stare at a lady's undergarments if she should unwillingly expose zem. It is not very gentlemanly behaviour.'

‘But you must have seen,' insisted Miss Bingley. ‘Their petticoats and stockings were at least six inches deep in mud, I assure you.'

‘I am sorry to tell you, Miss Bingley, zat I did not see zeir stockings zat were in ze mud. Nor did I see ze mud at all.'

‘And you must admit that it was very good of them to come and look after their sister, Caroline,' said Mr Bingley, ‘I assure you, my mind was put much at ease when I could hear Mrs Bennet's opinion about her daughter's condition. She assures me that Miss Bennet shall be well quite soon.

‘One never knows, though,' he added, ‘these colds can be awfully devilish things, and one should be very careful when they are around. I should perhaps ask the housekeeper to put another log in the fire in Miss Bennet's room. Yes, I think I shall do that. If you will excuse me for a moment?'

At half past six, Elizabeth and Mary were summoned to dinner. They were just leaving their rooms when they saw a maid entering Jane's, carrying a tray which looked like it was loaded with all of Jane's favourite food, and smiled at the thought of her (and Mr Paws) being taken care of so well. A family dinner at the Bingleys' turned out to be a quite formal affair when Miss Bingley was in charge of it, and Elizabeth and Mary were glad that Mrs Bennet had packed their good dresses, even though none of them could muster the modishness of Miss Bingley's peach-coloured dress.

After dinner, Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst decided to spend some time with Jane (and Mr Paws, but he had fled and hidden below the blankets on Jane's bed the moment they entered her room, and they did not know he was there) while the gentlemen were at port, and they sat at her bed and told her how very sorry they felt for her until it was time to return downstairs. Elizabeth and Mary stayed with Jane until she fell asleep and only then rejoined their hosts.

They found them at cards, but they decided not to join them. Mary did not have much interest in cards, and Elizabeth was afraid she might not have enough money to join them. Mr Bingley offered them the use of his small library, which Mary accepted immediately and in the direction of which she left. Elizabeth declined the offer, she had seen a book that she had always wanted to read lying on the table near the sofa.

Mary returned very soon. ‘Oh, Mr Bingley, you should not call your library small! You may not have as many books as others may have, but what an excellent collection it is, it shows great taste.' (‘Not one moralising work,' she added in an undertone to Elizabeth.) ‘I even found a copy of Ovid's Metamorphoses, which I have always wanted to read.'

‘I thank you for your praise, Miss Mary, but you must be mistaken, I do not own a copy of the Metamorphoses.'

Mary mustered the book that she had in her hand and opened it. ‘But I have it here, look. And such a fine edition, too. It has an ex libris. ‘Ex libris bibliothecae pemberlianae‘. What does that mean, Mr Bingley?'

‘It means ‘from ze books of ze library of Pemberley', Fraeulein Mary,' said Herr Darcy.

‘I know that .' said Mary. ‘I speak Latin. But what is Pemberley?'

Part Five

Posted on Sunday, 30 July 2006

'Pemberley!' exclaimed Miss Bingley. 'Did someone mention Pemberley? How I love Pemberley!'

'But what is Pemberley?'

'It's Herr Darcy's estate in Derbyshire, but you probably would not know such things', said Miss Bingley.

'Derbyshire?' asked Mary. 'Forgive my asking, Herr Darcy, but I thought you were from Berlin?'

'My mozer's family is from Berlin, and I grew up zere, but my fazer's family's estate is in Derbyshire,' said Herr Darcy stiffly, and he did not seem to want to give any more information.

'And he has a great fine library there, Miss Mary,' said Mr. Bingley, 'much finer than my few books.'

'It is ze vork of many generations,' said Herr Darcy, 'Pemberley has been in ze family for more zan two hundred years.'

'Oh, I love Pemberley!' exclaimed Miss Bingley again, 'how I wish to see it again! I believe I spent some of the happiest moments of my life at Pemberley.'

'But Caroline,' said Mr. Bingley, frowning, 'were you not only once at Pemberley, during a rainy week last October?'

'And your dear sister, of course!' continued Miss Bingley, ignoring her brother's remark. 'How is she? I am missing her terribly!'

'My sister is vell, zank you,' said Herr Darcy shortly. He had left the card table and taken up a book that had lain on a small table, next to the one Elizabeth had chosen. He obviously did not wish to continue the talk, but it was clear that Miss Bingley was oblivious to this fact.

'Such a fine girl, your sister is,' she said and looked at Herr Darcy with an almost piercing glare, 'so very pretty, and so accomplished! How I wish to see her again!'

'Zank you,' said Herr Darcy once more and returned his attention to his book. Mary and Elizabeth had both settled on the sofa with the books they had chosen, but they found that the conversation was much more interesting for the moment. They were quite interested who would be the winner of this little battle, but they were to be disappointed, for Mr. Bingley, who noticed that Herr Darcy was unwilling to continue the conversation, chose this moment to interrupt it and lead his sister's thoughts in another direction.

'You know, Caroline, all this talk about accomplishments,' he said, 'it got me thinking. All these young ladies are so highly trained in various subjects, they do this craft and that, they sing and play perfectly on who knows how many instruments, they paint on any material they can lay their hands on, and I always wonder why? To marry well? But why? You know, what a man wants is not a trained monkey. I really do not know why all these ladies choose to waste their time being accomplished, when they could go out, and watch the birds, or squirrels, or puppies, or little kitten -'

'Oh, nonsense, Charles,' hissed Mrs. Hurst, 'you're not yourself lately. What has gotten into you?

'And would you mind lowering your voice?' she added, 'I think Mr. Hurst has fallen asleep.' She pointed at her husband, whose head had fallen on the card table.

'Has he, again?' asked Miss Bingley, not really interested. 'Anyway, I agree with Louisa, Charles. You are not at all yourself lately. Whatever has gotten into you? Of course a young lady must be accomplished. She has to know manners, dancing, art, music, she must be able to walk with grace, speak several languages fluently, be able to organise a household, host parties, decorate rooms, to dress appropriately, to converse easily, to be always well-behaved - you could not call her a lady without these accomplishments, certainly.'

'Zat may be very true for accomplishments, my Fraeulein', said Herr Darcy suddenly, 'but in order to be a lady, I zink she should, in addition to zat, be villing to alvays broaden her mind vith new experiences - by extensive reading, for example. Reading cannot be underestimated, if you asked me.'

He cast a meaningful look at Elizabeth, who was still leafing through her book, although she was listening to the conversation. Mary, who had noticed his look, gave a little laugh that she managed to disguise as a cough (she had had ample experience at home to train that particular accomplishment), but Elizabeth, who had not looked up, frowned at her sister.

'I wonder, Herr Darcy', she said, 'if, in your eyes, an accomplished lady has to understand all the things Miss Bingley mentioned, how many true ladies do you know?'

Herr Darcy seemed to be taken aback by her suddenly addressing him, and it seemed he needed to carefully think about it. 'Five, I zink', he said finally, 'but two live in Prussia and one is dead.'

Elizabeth laughed. 'Vhat is ze matter?' asked Herr Darcy, 'you asked me a question, and I ansvered. Did I say somezing vrong?'

'Oh, no', said Elizabeth, 'I was merely astonished at there being five women who are, according to your criteria, true ladies. I did not think it would be so many.

'If you would excuse me,' she added, 'I think I will look how my sister does, and whether she needs anything before the night.'

'I shall come with you,' said Mary immediately, 'if you will be so kind as to excuse me as well.'

'Do not think you can leave me alone with them!' she whispered to her sister when they were climbing the stairs. 'I do not want to witness how Miss Bingley crawls on Herr Darcy's lap - or maybe I do. Should I perhaps return?'

Miss Bingley, however, did not intend to crawl on Herr Darcy's lap - at least not as long as others were present.

'What on earth did she mean by it?' she exclaimed. 'She must have wanted you to call her accomplished, Herr Darcy. How presumptuous! I think we can safely assume that she is not one of the five ladies, can we not?'

'Was macht Sie da so sicher, mein Fraeulein?' muttered Herr Darcy (and he meant 'What makes you so sure about that, my fraeulein?'), but, like Mary, he had the enviable talent of turning unwelcome sounds into coughs almost immediately, and Miss Bingley did not get angry with him, but instead fussed about him probably having caught a cold from 'one of those Bennets' - which remark earned her an unexpected, quite sharp 'Caroline!' from her brother and a snicker from her sister.

Elizabeth and Mary found that Jane was not much better. Her fever had risen slightly, and, although Jane did not complain about it, her headache seemed to have gotten worse. While Mary stayed with her sister, Elizabeth went in search of the housekeeper, in order to get some compresses for Jane's legs, and a hot milk with honey to help her sleep. No sooner had she opened the bed-room door, though, that she almost run into Mr. Bingley, who, it appeared, had once more taken to pace the corridor in front of Jane's door. He grasped Elizabeth's wrist.

'How is she, Miss Bennet?' he said hastily. 'How is she? You must tell me how she is at once. I can bear with the truth, but do tell me at once how she is. Anything will be better than not knowing - you must tell me the absolute truth, Miss Bennet, I beg you!'

Elizabeth was eager to assure Mr. Bingley that, although she did not feel very well at the moment, Jane was in no grave danger. He offered to send for the apothecary at once, to anyone she thought who might help Jane, but Elizabeth declined it; she knew that they would not prescribe anything else but what she herself was trying to arrange, and the only thing she asked for was that she might send for her mother again the following day, to ask for her advice, should Jane still not feel better. Mr. Bingley promised to send his carriage to Longbourn as soon as he woke up, and finally released Elizabeth's wrist in order to search for the housekeeper and arrange for the leg compresses and hot beverage (Elizabeth having instructed him what she needed upon his earnest endeavour to find something that he might do) and to instruct the staff to follow every one of the Miss Bennets' wishes as soon as possible. Elizabeth rubbed her wrist. It was still unnaturally white, and her hand was red and swollen.

Elizabeth woke the next morning earlier than she was wont to; a look out of the window showed her that the sun had not yet fully risen. She soon discovered the cause for this; her wrist was no longer white, but red and twice its usual size and she could barely move it. With difficulties, she dressed herself and managed to pin her hair up in a simple, probably not very elegant knot. ('If I were at Longbourn,' she mumbled, 'I could simply put on my dressing gown and ask mama to help me dress, but here, considering my luck, I should probably run into one of the sisters, or the Prussian, who would at once notice that there is an ever so tiny stain just above its hem - and they would not know whether to be more shocked at that, or the impropriety of my behaviour. But then, at Longbourn, no one would have broken my wrist out of anxiety.') She had a quick look after Jane, who seemed to be much better than the day before. There was no longer a feverish glance in her eyes, and she said that the headache was almost gone, also that the coughing was slightly better. Elizabeth was relieved by that; there was no need anymore to distress their mother, and inconvenience Mr. Bingley; all she had to do know was to finally find the housekeeper and ask for some clay for her wrist, and after that, find Mr. Bingley before he developed a serious attack of nerves. She climbed down what looked like a servants' staircase in the hope that it would lead her to the staff rooms, but, after climbing down two flights and walking down three corridors without seeing as much as a maid's room, she had to admit to herself she was lost. She was most happy, therefore, when, after taking one more turn in the empty corridors, and climbing up six steps, she could hear the clatter of dishes behind an oaken door. This had to be the kitchen, where somebody would be up even at this early hour, and would be able to help her, or at least direct her to the housekeeper. She opened the door, expecting to see the great kitchen full of copperware, with its great oven and several kitchen maids busy kindling the fire and preparing everything that the fine ladies and gentlemen from London deemed necessary for their breakfast, supervised by an impressing cook with a freshly starched apron, but she was disappointed. The only person she could find behind the door was Herr Darcy, the only starched linen was his cravat, and the clutter of dishes was his teacup. She had ended up in the very same breakfast parlour where she had been the day before, but this time she had entered it through the servants' entry. She wanted to leave again before anyone saw her, but it was too late. For once, Herr Darcy was not looking out of the window, instead, he was looking directly at her.

'Miss Bennet,' he said and rose from his chair. 'I was not avare zat anyone else vas avake so early in ze morning. Do join me for breakfast.' Too astonished at both his civility and the coincidence of their meeting, Elizabeth sat down without saying anything.

'It is not my custom to rise so early,' continued Herr Darcy, which surprised Elizabeth greatly; she had not assumed him to be one to talk without need. 'But I vas avaken because Mr. Bing- somebody paced ze corridors in front of my door, and I could not find sleep again.

I hope your sister is vell?' he added suddenly. 'You are not up so early on her account, are you?'

Elizabeth was still so much astonished at his unusual behaviour that it took her a moment to register he had asked her a question. 'Oh, no,' she said finally, 'my sister is much better than yesterday, thank you very much. I came downstairs to look for Mr. Bingley, to prevent him from sending for my mother.'

'I am afraid I cannot help you on zat account,' said Herr Darcy, still willing to keep the conversation going, as it seemed, 'I have not seen him yet. But I am glad your sister is better, I vas quite alarmed vhen Mr. Bingley told us he vould send for her mozer first zing today morning. But vill you not take some tea, Miss Bennet? You must be vanting breakfast, certainly.'

Elizabeth would indeed have liked to pour herself some tea, but she had not been able to; she could not possibly lift the teapot with only her left hand, and there was no servant or maid she could ask for help, and she did not wish to alert Herr Darcy to her situation, as he was bound to ask how it came about. But her secrecy was in vain; he had noticed her cradling her swollen hand and came over to her.

'Vhat has happened, Miss Bennet?' he asked. 'You are injured, and, if I may say so, your hand - ze joint - how do you say zat in English? - it looks quite nasty.'

'Oh, it is nothing,' said Elizabeth at once. 'I must have knocked it against a bedpost while I was sleeping.'

'May I have a look neverzeless?' Herr Darcy said, and, upon her reluctant nod, took up her hand, 'you must know, I grew up viz zree cousins, and ve vere all tree-climbers.'

He carefully tried to bend her wrist, at which Elizabeth almost squealed in pain. 'Zis looks quite nasty,' Herr Darcy said, 'but not as if you knocked. If I did not know better, I vould say somebody squeezed it, look, it looks as if zere vere fingerprints, can you see zat?'

Before Elizabeth could think of anything to explain her injury, or indeed say anything at all, the servants' door burst open once more and Mr. Bingley entered the room. His face was pale, his hair was ruffled, and he looked as if he had dressed in haste.

'Miss Bennet! Darcy!' he exclaimed upon seeing them standing closely together, Herr Darcy holding Elizabeth's hand. 'What is the matter? I demand an explanation!'

Part Six

Posted on Sunday, 13 August 2006

Elizabeth hastily tried to think of something that would explain their behaviour. She did not want Mr. Bingley to feel guilty for what had happened with her wrist, he had most certainly not meant to injure her, but how else should she make him realise that he was misunderstanding the situation? Before either she or Herr Darcy could say anything, though, Mr. Bingley proceeded with his questioning, and it turned out that although he was indeed misinterpreting their standing so closely together, it was not in the way she had thought.

'What is the matter? Has anything happened? Whatever it is, you must tell me at once! Anything is better than this state of uneasiness! I beg you, tell me the truth! I assure you, I can bear it. I must know what is the matter. Do not try to spare me, I would rather hear it from you than from anybody else.'

Once more this morning, it took Elizabeth longer than usual to realise what was demanded of her. She had been afraid that Mr. Bingley was seeing some impropriety in her or Herr Darcy's behaviour, but it was bad news about her sister that he feared. She therefore extracted her hand from Herr Darcy's grip (which was, altogether, more tender than Mr. Bingley's) and smiled in order to assure Mr. Bingley that everything was alright. 'My sister is much better this morning,' she said, 'thank you for your kind enquiries. There will be no need to send for my mother.'

Mr. Bingley smiled ruefully. 'I am afraid it is too late for that,' he said, 'I sent for your mother as soon as I got up, just as I promised you yesterday. You cannot know how relieved I am to hear that your sister is better, Miss Bennet. When I saw you here so early, you must know that I-' He broke off suddenly, noticing that Elizabeth had tried, in vain, to butter a toast with her left hand. 'What is the matter, Miss Bennet? Are you feeling unwell?'

'You should send for ze housekeeper, Bingley,' said Herr Darcy, 'Miss Bennet needs a bandage of clay, she has - knocked - her hand and can scarcely move it.' Mr. Bingley got up at once to search for the housekeeper once more. As soon as he had left the room, Herr Darcy poured Elizabeth some tea and handed her his plate with two slices of buttered and jammed toast. Elizabeth looked up at him in utter astonishment. She was not sure whether she had met this man before, or his evil twin.

'You must be hungry,' he said simply.

Thankful, Elizabeth nodded and picked up her teacup. She sipped some tea and noticed that he was still looking at her. She felt that she owed him an explanation.

'I did not knock my wrist,' she said. 'Mr. Bing- somebody squeezed too hard accidentally while inquiring after my sister's health.'

'I know,' said Herr Darcy, and had it not been him, Elizabeth would have thought that he smiled. 'I saw you in ze corridor yesterday evening.'

When Mrs. Bennet arrived at Longbourn not much later, it was to find not one but two daughter being looked after by the housekeeper; Elizabeth was just receiving her bandage. Mrs. Bennet was pleased to find Jane better than on the day before and assured that she should be well soon, and she told her second daughter not to move her wrist much, to keep it bandaged and to carry it, if possible, in a shawl. She thanked the housekeeper for all her troubles, and asked whether it would be possible for Jane to have a sage tea in the evening to disinfect her throat.

Mr. Bingley was quite relieved when Mrs. Bennet confirmed that Jane was indeed improving, and there was no need to worry, and he was delighted when she added that Jane might be able to sit up for an hour in the afternoon and had asked whether he would like to visit her and Mr. Paws.

'Oh, you cannot know how that would put me at ease, Mrs. Bennet!' he exclaimed. 'It is not that I doubt your testimony in any way, you see - but - I mean, it is always better to personally witness something one wants to be sure of, is it not?'

Mrs. Bennet assured him that she understood what he meant. 'And I think my daughter will want to thank you for your kind hospitality, and all that you have done for her.'

'It is nothing, it is absolutely nothing,' he said. 'As I have told you already yesterday, I am glad to be of help, and I must tell you I am much relieved that Miss Bennet is recovering so quickly. You know, I was quite alarmed this morning when I saw Miss Elizabeth. I dreaded that - that - something might have happened during the night. I assure you, I could not sleep at all when I heard Miss Elizabeth's most alarming record of Miss Bennet's health yesterday. I was very much afraid for your daughter's health. But now that you have assured me that she will be able to sit up, and receive me, I am greatly relieved.'

He turned silent once more and shook Mrs. Bennet's hand in thanks before adding, in an afterthought: 'You should not be alarmed, however, about Miss Bennet's reputation. I will, of course, ask Miss Elizabeth or Miss Mary to chaperone us. You must not think that it is my general habit to visit a young lady in her bedchamber -' He broke off and blushed spectacularly. Mrs. Bennet once more assured the nervous young man that she understood him perfectly, and that some allowances could certainly be made due to the special circumstances.

Mrs. Bennet excused herself soon afterwards and claimed that urgent business called her back home. She told Elizabeth and Mary that her husband had received a letter from a distant cousin which he had refused to open, claiming instead that he might any moment meet a certain death, and Mrs. Bennet had better prepare herself and her daughters to live as outcasts in the gutter. Mrs. Bennet felt a little bit uneasy, therefore, to leave him alone with her youngest daughters for too long. She feared he might in this very moment tell them in lurid details about the gruesome fate that awaited them once they were outcasts in the gutter.

Elizabeth and Mary drew toothpicks and it fell to Elizabeth to chaperone Jane and Mr. Bingley during Mr. Bingley's half-hour visit. Mary declined Elizabeth's offer of keeping her company and instead wandered off to explore Mr. Bingley's miniature library, and to find out if Herr Darcy had left any more of his library lying around, for she suspected he might possess many more books which she had always wanted to read.

Elizabeth took up her book once more and positioned herself in a corner of the room, by the window, as far away from Jane (in an armchair near the blazing fire, provided by the housekeeper for the sick lady) as possible, because she did not want to appear to be eavesdropping. She then rang for the maid and told her that Miss Bennet was now ready to receive Mr. Bingley, if he should be still inclined to see her.

'Oh, Lizzy!' said Jane as soon as the maid had left the room. 'I wonder whether this was a good idea. I must look horrible, and I do not want Mr. Bingley to think I wanted him to see me in my dressing-gown. What will he think? He must think me very fast, must he not? And there, this seam, look, it is almost loose. Tell me the truth, Lizzy! Do I look fast, or do I look horrible, or do I look both?'

'Oh, dear Jane,' said Elizabeth and smiled. 'You look lovely, and Mr. Bingley will tell you exactly the same. He will not think you very fast, for your dressing-gown is of the thickest Yorkshire wool one could find (and I bought the wool and made it myself, so I should know), but instead a wonderful picture, especially now with Mr. Paws asleep on your lap. Just look at him, he feels so cozy!'

Elizabeth and Mary had a long time ago found out that it was talk about small animals that put Jane much more at ease than anything else, and they were proved right once more. Jane did not forget about all her anxieties at once, but watching Mr. Paws sleep peacefully calmed her down considerably, and she was able to remark that 'he was such a sweet kitten', just as Mr. Bingley knocked on the door.

'Oh, Mr. Bingley, how very nice of you to visit me,' said Jane, blushing ever so slightly. After an acknowledging nod to Elizabeth, Mr. Bingley settled in the armchair next to Jane's.

'It is I who has to thank you, Miss Bennet, for allowing me this intrusion into your sick-chamber,' he said, 'I assure you, it is a great relief for me to see you so much better. I was quite concerned for your health, but now that I see how well you look -'

He paused, some of the morning's scruples obviously returning to him. 'You should not think, however, Miss Bennet, that I am accustomed to visit young ladies in their - in their private rooms. It was only anxiety for your well-being that brought me here, and your mother assured me that she saw no impropriety in my being here, otherwise I would never - I should not have -'

'Mr. Bingley, you need not worry,' said Jane and smiled at him, 'I am very much flattered by your concern for my health, indeed, sir, it is much more than I could expect, for you have been such an obliging host, and you have done so much for me, it is -'

'My dear Miss Bennet, I must protest! I assure you, it was nothing. Indeed, I wish I could have done more, it feels like I did not help you at all. You cannot imagine how I suffered when I thought of you being so ill here, and I was unable to help you. When your sister told me this morning you were much recovered -' He broke off once again and looked intensely at Jane. 'You are feeling better, are you not? Or is there something amiss? Do tell me, my dear Miss Bennet, if there is anything that you need.'

'Oh, no, I assure you, Mr. Bingley, I am quite content. Your housekeeper is looking after me so well, I feel quite spoilt, to tell the truth. She is guessing all my little wishes and needs. I hope I shall not get too used to it, for it is much more than I deserve.'

'Miss Bennet, allow me to tell you that having all your little wishes guessed immediately is exactly what you deserve, and I hope that you shall get used -'

Here, he broke off and both parties blushed furiously once more. Mr. Bingley wrung his hands nervously and Jane looked down on Mr. Paws, and it was only when she finally introduced Mr. Bingley to Mr. Paws that both were able to talk to each other again. Elizabeth was glad that her sister and Mr. Bingley seemed to get along so well (and that her father was nowhere in sight to drop any not so subtle hints), but she felt like she was eavesdropping on them, and she did not like them to think she was spying. She could not read, however, for it turned out that turning the pages only with her left hand was not as easy as she thought and she soon got tired of her desperate attempts to find a way to use her injured hand. Because she did not want to watch her sister and Mr. Bingley too closely (both of whom seemed to have taken up stroking Mr. Paws, who was very much liking this special treatment), gazing out of the window was her only option. Much to her surprise, she saw Herr Darcy out there on the lawn. Next to him was the biggest Alsatian Elizabeth had ever seen, and it looked as if Herr Darcy was throwing sticks for it. She blinked. Could it be? Could stiff Herr Darcy be actually playing with a dog? He had to be, for she could now see a stick flying through the air, and hear (very faintly, because the window was closed) a cry of "Fang, Wilhelmina! Braver Hund!" She could not make the man out. Was it possible there was more than one of him in the house? How else were all the sudden changes in his behaviour to be explained? Until this morning, she had thought him all reserved and stiff - had he not, only the evening before, been haughty and withdrawn? -, but then, he had been most attentive during breakfast, and now he was engaging in what looked like fun. She had never thought the man even knew how to spell the word. And yet, here he was playing with a dog - a giant Alsatian called Wilhelmina, no less! - and he threw the stick not once, but at least a dozen times. Watching him helped Elizabeth to turn her attention from Jane and Mr. Bingley, who had once more reached the point of blushing at what the other said.

'You must allow me to thank you, Mr. Bingley,' Jane said, 'for letting me stay here in your house, and providing all the good care I received. I am indeed very thankful for the attention you are paying me, sir.'

'But my dear, dear Miss Bennet, it is nothing, it is absolutely nothing, I keep telling you,' Mr. Bingley said and - accidentally, of course - stroked the back of Jane's hand instead of Mr. Paws' back. 'It is no more than what any man in my situation would do, I assure you, and to you of all creatures, I am most happy to be of help.'

'You cannot know, sir, how much I appreciate your kindness,' Jane said, now too stroking - accidentally, of course - Mr. Bingley's hand instead of the kitten. 'You must allow me to be grateful for what you have done for me, I insist upon it.'

Luckily for them, Elizabeth was still gazing dreamily out of the window - watching the dog, of course - and though she could hear what they were saying, she did not pay attention to what their hands were doing. Otherwise, she might have thought she was neglecting her duties as a chaperone.

Mr. Bingley took his leave of Jane after half an hour, not wanting to exhaust her, and retired to his own room, probably to ponder all that had been said on the subject of kittens and life-long guessing of wishes. Elizabeth (with Mary's assistance) helped Jane back to bed before the two of them retired to their own rooms in order to prepare once for dinner. Mary promised Elizabeth to help her dress and do her hair, and the two of them soon found themselves in front of the mirror in Elizabeth's room. Elizabeth now had the time to tell Mary about what she had witnessed in Jane's room, both out of the window and at the fire-place.

'I am happy for Jane,' said Mary, 'she of all creatures deserves to be happy.'

'So am I,' said Elizabeth, 'but do you think I behaved correctly in not interrupting their conversation when it turned - well, a little ambiguous, if you get my meaning? Am I a bad chaperone?'

'Oh, not at all,' said Mary determinedly and began pinning up Elizabeth's hair. 'I think you did quite right in granting them this little freedom. They were not doing anything improper, after all, and I think it is a good thing that they are now both aware of each others' feelings.'

'No, what interests me much more,' she said while arranging the curls on Elizabeth's temples, 'is how much time you seem to have spent watching the Prussian - I thought you found him not at all agreeable?'

'I am merely trying to understand him,' Elizabeth protested, 'you must admit that the changes in his behaviour are most peculiar, are they not? This morning, he was all kindness and attention, and you saw yourself how he was only yesterday. I assure you, that is all that interests me. He is handsome, I grant you, but still, I am interested in him only as an object of my studies.'

'Methinks the lady doth protest too much,' muttered Mary, but Elizabeth did not hear it, and when the two sisters went to see Jane before dinner, it was all in harmony.

'Lizzy tells me you had a pleasant afternoon,' Mary said to Jane, looking, as she always did when she teased her sisters, totally innocent.

'Yes, very pleasant,' said Jane, smiling dreamily.

'And Mr. Bingley was very attentive to your wishes, Lizzy says?' Mary continued.

'He is a very attentive host, yes,' Jane said, still smiling. Suddenly, however, she noticed the looks her sisters were sharing, and she sat up in her bed - so fast that Mr. Paws woke up and jumped out of the bed, protesting loudly. 'Mary! Lizzy! What have you been thinking of again? I assure you, nothing has been said by either Mr. Bingley or me that could in anyway be understood as an understanding between us. We merely -'

'I know, Jane,' said Elizabeth. 'I know exactly what you said, I was here, remember? I know that you have not come to an understanding with Mr. Bingley - yet.'

'He is a very nice man, though, is he not?' Mary asked. Elizabeth knew that this time she was not trying to tease her sister, she was trying to find out whether Jane felt as much as her words to and about Mr. Bingley seemed to suggest. Jane also seemed to feel that her sister was asking in earnest.

'He is the most agreeable man I ever met,' she confessed, 'and I must admit that I like to spend my time with him very much.'

This was the best confession they could hope for, they knew; Jane would not tell them any more about her feelings. They left for dinner, therefore, as they did not want to give Miss Bingley the opportunity to poke fun at their being too late.

After dinner, when all had retired into the salon once more, and the gentlemen returned, Mr. Hurst fell asleep on a sofa almost immediately, and his wife joined him. Mr. Bingley gazed dreamily into the fire (Elizabeth and Mary were instantly reminded of Jane's gaze), and Herr Darcy sat down to write a letter. Miss Bingley chose to settle near him and observe his progress, and Mary, having found a copy of the Simplicissimus Teutsch in the library (also from the library of Pemberley, as the ex libris told her) was busy reading. Elizabeth - still having problems turning pages, and certainly not able to pick up some needlework - had little choice but to watch some of the others; her choice fell on Herr Darcy and Miss Bingley, who promised to be most entertaining. It seemed that Herr Darcy was writing a letter to his sister, this much Elizabeth had already been able to make out.

'Oh, la, Herr Darcy, how fast you write!' exclaimed Miss Bingley.

Herr Darcy gave no answer, instead, he began to write even faster.

'You must tell your sister how I long to see her, I absolutely insist on it!' said Miss Bingley.

'I already did so.' Herr Darcy said curtly.

'Did you, indeed?'

'Yes, my fraeulein.'

'Are you absolutely sure that you did not forget it?'

'Yes.'

'Really?'

'If you doubt my short-term memory, Miss Bingley, you are free to check my letter.'

Miss Bingley had wished for nothing else, indeed, this had been the very point of her questions, it seemed. She took up the letter instantly and started to peruse it. She stopped, however, after having read no more than a few lines.

'Mayneh laybeh Shwayster, itsh howfe ... What sort of nonsense is that, Herr Darcy?'

'Ve call it German, Miss Bingley.'

'You write to your sister in German, Herr Darcy? How droll!' Miss Bingley tried to smile, but Elizabeth guessed she was quite put out. She obviously had wished to be able to read what Herr Darcy had written about her, but had been denied that chance.

'My sister does not understand much English,' Herr Darcy said, wanting to continue with his letter.

'But she understands this?' Miss Bingley asked and pointed to the letter.

'It is her mozer's tongue, after all, Miss Bingley,' Herr Darcy said. 'I assure you, she speaks it fluently.'

'And you do so, too?' Miss Bingley asked, incredulously.

'Yes, I do,' said Herr Darcy and sighed exasperatedly. 'I do speak and vrite German fluently, I zink.'

'Oh, pray, say something in German, Herr Darcy!' exclaimed Miss Bingley. 'I've never heard you speak German, I am sure it sounds very droll. Pretty please?' She fluttered her eyelashes, and Elizabeth had to stifle a snort. It was amazing. Whenever Herr Darcy was near, the haughty, poised Miss Bingley turned into an exact copy of her sister Lydia. Elizabeth thought that she even looked a little like Lydia when she pouted or leaned over to Herr Darcy, as she did now. 'Please, Herr Darcy, say something in German! For me, your dear friend Miss Bingley!'

'Wenn ist das Nunstueck git und Slotermeyer? Ja! Beiherhund das Oder die Flipperwaldt gersput!' Mary now snorted very audibly, but Miss Bingley had not noticed anything.

'Oh, that sounded very, very pretty! Is it a love poem?'

Herr Darcy did not answer her question, instead, he dipped his quill into the ink once more. 'If you vould excuse me, Miss Bingley, I vould like to finish zis letter.'

'Oh, of course, Herr Darcy! You must finish your letter, I absolutely insist on it! You must tell dear Georgie how much I miss her.'

For the first time since their conversation had begun, Herr Darcy seemed to be genuinely interested in what she said. He stopped writing and looked at her.

'Miss Bingley, vhat are you talking about? Vho is Georgie?'

Miss Bingley looked at him as if she doubted they spoke the same language. 'Well, your sister, of course. Dear Georgie. We spoke about her all evening, did we not?'

Herr Darcy looked at Miss Bingley equally dumbfounded.

'My sister's name is not Georgie. She has never been called zat. Her name is Johanna.'

Explanations:

"Fang, Wilhelmina! Braver Hund!" - "Catch, Wilhelmina! Good dog!"

"Simplicissimus Teutsch" - That is a book that tells the story of a young man during the times of the thirty-years war, I think. (Unlike the Metamorphoses, I've never read it.) The title means, roughly translated, "The German Simpleton", if I am not totally wrong.

"Mayne Laybe Shwayster, Itsh Howfe..." - Miss Bingley's very own way of pronouncing "Meine liebe Schwester, ich hoffe...", meaning, "My dear sister, I hope..."

"Wenn ist das Nunstueck git..." - I will of course not provide a translation, as I do not want to endanger any of my readers.

Continued In Next Section