Chapter Eight

Posted on: 2009-03-17

Elizabeth spent most of the night in Jane's room, and found her rather better in the morning. Mr Bingley sent a housemaid to Jane's bedchamber to inquire after her health almost the moment he had risen from his bed – he appeared to be an early riser – and Elizabeth was well pleased with his solicitude towards her sister. It was a good sign, she felt.

Some time later, both Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst sent their personal maids on the same errand, and Lizzy found some amusement in the reflection that, if anyone ever wished to make the acquaintance of someone more superior in their bearing than Mr Bingley's sisters, they only needed to meet their attendants.

Although Jane was feeling rather better this morning, Lizzy sent a note to her mother, asking her to visit Jane and give her opinion as to her well-being. Mr Bingley was all acquiescence, and quickly dispatched a footman on the errand. Less than an hour later, Mrs Bennet descended upon Netherfield with her youngest girls in tow. The Netherfield party had hardly risen from their breakfast when a footman announced Mrs Bennet and her daughters.

Finding that Jane's illness was by no means alarming, she immediately decided to make good use of the opportunity, and was in no hurry to take her daughter with her to Longbourn, even though Jane pleaded with her to do just that.

"But Mama, I do not want to be a burden on Miss Bingley," Jane protested weakly. "I'd much rather be at home!"

"It is not to be thought of," Mrs Bennet replied, and Jane did not persevere.

The apothecary, who arrived soon afterwards, approved of Mrs Bennet's notion – he did not think it at all advisable to carry Miss Bennet to Longbourn until her state of health had decidedly improved – upon which pronouncement Elizabeth went downstairs to make room for her mother and sisters, who wanted to sit and talk with Jane for a while. Back in the breakfast parlour she found that another visitor had come to Netherfield in the meantime – her cousin Harry was sitting there and talking to Mr Darcy, but got up the moment she entered the room, and asked her how the invalid was doing this morning.

"Rather better than yesterday, thank you," Elizabeth replied with a smile. She was glad to see Harry; even more so because she knew that he was the only friendly face she was going to see during her stay here – apart from her host, that was – and because she was looking forward to the inevitable encounter between her mother and Mr Bingley with a certain amount of foreboding. It would be good, she felt, to have one relative with her whose manners did not put her to the blush. She feared her mother's would, and as for Kitty and Lydia – it was rather too much to hope that they would for once conduct themselves with some decorum, especially since their mother did nothing to keep them in check.

Her fears turned out to be well founded. The moment Mrs Bennet entered the breakfast parlour, Mr Bingley went to her and expressed his hope that she had not found Miss Bennet any worse than she'd expected.

"Indeed, I have, Sir," was her reply. She even pulled a handkerchief from her reticule to dab at her eyes. Mrs Siddons was nothing in comparison to his aunt, Harry thought, not without amusement. He could tell that Lizzy was mortified rather than amused, however, and he fully sympathised with her.

"She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness." Mrs Bennet lamented.

"Removed!" Bingley cried obligingly. "It must not be thought of! My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal."

"You may depend upon it, Madam," Miss Bingley said coldly, "that Miss Bennet shall receive every possible attention while she remains with us."

Mrs Bennet thanked her host and hostess profusely while Elizabeth and Harry exchanged a glance. Perceiving his cousin's embarrassment, Harry gave her a cheering smile. Surely no one was going to blame Lizzy or Jane for their mother and sisters' conduct!

"I am sure," Mrs Bennet added, "if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world--which is always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest temper I ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to her."

"That's the spirit, Aunt," Harry murmured. "What an effective method of promoting sisterly affection!"

Lizzy smiled in spite of herself, but threw him a reproving glance nevertheless. The last thing she needed was someone to provoke her mother into embarking on one of her rants. Luckily, Mrs Bennet had not overheard her nephew's comment. She was too busy exchanging pleasantries with her host.

"You have a handsome room here, Mr. Bingley," Mrs Bennet said, "and a charming prospect over that gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry I hope, though you have but a short lease."

Harry wondered how on earth his aunt had got at this kind of information. Though if his father had been the one to settle the business, he need not go far to find the culprit, he feared.

"Whatever I do is done in a hurry," replied Bingley; "and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here."

"That is exactly what I should have supposed of you," said Elizabeth, smiling.

"You begin to comprehend me, do you?" Bingley said, turning towards her.

"Oh! Yes--I understand you perfectly."

"I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful." Bingley said.

"That is as it happens. It does not necessarily follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours."

Was Harry mistaken or was there a challenging glance at Darcy when Lizzy made this statement? It almost looked like it; though why she should do so Harry did not know. He supposed it had something to do with their first meeting – the circumstances had been rather unfortunate, Harry had to admit.

"Lizzy," his aunt cried, "remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home."

Or in the way her mother was suffered to do everywhere, Harry thought but wisely refrained from voicing his opinion in the matter.

"I did not know before," continued Bingley immediately, "that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study."

"Yes; but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage."

"The country," said Darcy, "can in general supply but few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society."

Indignation ran high among the Bennet ladies, Harry noticed, but Lizzy had herself well in hand.

"But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever," she countered.

"Yes, indeed," her mother interjected, offended by Darcy's manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. "I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town."

Darcy did not choose to continue the argument, Harry could tell, and would have let the topic fall, had not Mrs Bennet insisted on discussing it further.

"I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is not it, Mr. Bingley?"

She looked round at her host, as if pleading for support. Bingley had the makings of a diplomat, Harry felt. His reply to Mrs Bennet was certainly the height of diplomacy.

"When I am in the country," Bingley said, "I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either."

"That is because you have the right disposition." Mrs Bennet replied, pleased with his answer and feeling that Mr Bingley shared her opinion. "But that gentleman," – here she threw a furious glance at Darcy - "seemed to think the country was nothing at all."

"Indeed, Mama, you are mistaken," Elizabeth intervened, blushing for her mother. "You quite mistook Mr Darcy. He only meant that there were not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in town, which you must acknowledge to be true."

"Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four and twenty families."

It took everyone present a great deal of effort to keep their countenance. Miss Bingley made the worst job of it in Harry's opinion – he did notice her looking at Darcy, smiling meaningfully. Lizzy, well aware that her mother had just exposed herself to ridicule, tried desperately to turn her mother's mind towards a different subject – without achieving the desired result.

"Did Charlotte Lucas call at Longbourn since I left it, Mama?" she inquired.

"Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley--isn't he? So much the man of fashion! So genteel and so easy!--He has always something to say to everybody.--That is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter."

"I suppose that's put you in your place, Darcy," Harry murmured. Unlike Mrs Bennet, Darcy overheard the comment. Their eyes met for a moment, and Harry detected signs of amusement in his friend's demeanour. Mrs Bennet's jibes appeared to entertain rather than offend him. Yet he acted indifferent, while Elizabeth did her best to get her mother to behave. It was a Herculean task, and Harry admired her for even attempting it.

"Did Charlotte dine with you?" she asked.

"No, she went home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince pies. - For my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their own work; my daughters are brought up differently. But every body is to judge for themselves, and the Lucases are very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte so very plain--but then she is our particular friend."

This was an unkind, if not malicious statement to make about one's particular friend, Harry felt, and decided to interfere.

"She seems a very pleasant young woman," said Bingley.

"She is a very pleasant young woman," Harry said, and added, "Also a young lady of excellent sense, I believe."

Elizabeth gave him a grateful smile that warmed his heart.

"Oh! Dear, yes;--but you must own she is very plain." Mrs Bennet insisted. "Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane's beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Jane--one does not often see any body better looking. It is what every body says. I do not trust my own partiality. When she was only fifteen, there was a gentleman at my brother Gardiner's in town, so much in love with her, that my sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. But however he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were."

At last, Mrs Bennet's way of not boasting of her own children had succeeded in making Elizabeth impatient. Harry did not wonder it – his aunt's conduct was enough to enrage a saint.

"And so ended his affection," Elizabeth said sharply. "There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!"

"I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love," said Darcy.

"One certainly has come across some examples of it in literature," Harry agreed.

"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may." Elizabeth said. "Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away."

"Oh no, certainly not a good sonnet," Harry countered. "A tedious one; now that I can believe. Is there anything more ridiculous than badly written poetry? What is a poor lady to do when confronted with such an offering? Where ridicule comes in through the door, love will fly out of the window."

Darcy followed their discussion smilingly but without making any further contribution of his own, and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth tremble with apprehension lest her mother should expose herself again.

She longed to speak, but could think of nothing to say in reply to her cousin's statement – she agreed with what he'd said, but saying so seemed rather unnecessary to her - ; and after a short silence Mrs. Bennet began to repeat her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to Jane, and offered him an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy.

Mr. Bingley was civil in his answer; he forced his younger sister to be civil as well, and say what the occasion required. Miss Bingley performed her part without much cordiality, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and soon afterwards she ordered her carriage.

Lizzy's furtive sigh of relief was premature, though. Her youngest sisters, who'd been whispering to each other during the whole visit, chose that moment to ask Mr Bingley when he was going to keep his promise of hosting a ball at Netherfield. Both Lydia and Kitty were quite adamant in their demands. Especially Lydia, who'd always been a favourite with her mother, and in consequence had always been indulged, was not going to take no for an answer. Not that Bingley was inclined to say no.

"I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement, and when your sister is recovered you shall name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing while she is ill," was what he said.

Harry suspected that Lydia had no such scruples, but if she was dissatisfied with Mr Bingley's suggestion, she did not show it.

"Oh yes! It will be much better to wait until Jane is well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter will be in Meryton again. And when you have given your ball, I shall insist on the officers giving one too. I shall tell Colonel Forster that it will be quite a shame if he does not!"

There were few fifteen-year-old girls who would even think of making any demands of that kind of a man many years their senior, but Harry believed Lydia to be perfectly equal to it. There was trouble brewing for the family, he feared – Lydia would land herself in a mess sooner or later if no one checked her; and from what he'd seen no one even attempted to do so.

It was then that the carriage was announced, and Mrs Bennet and her daughters left Netherfield. Harry, feeling that Elizabeth needed to get away from the Netherfield party to regain her composure before returning to her sister's room, invited her to walk in the garden with him.

Gratefully, Elizabeth accepted his invitation. Going for a walk with Harry was certainly more pleasant than sitting with Jane, unable to discuss the mortification she had suffered, and instead reliving the entire episode in her head, thinking of what she ought to have said, and of Miss Bingley's malicious smile. She could well imagine what Miss Bingley was going to say about her, the moment she left the breakfast parlour.

Harry would be a sympathetic listener, at least, and after having talked things over with him she'd be in a frame of mind more suitable for a young lady who was supposed to nurse her ailing sister.

Chapter Nine

Posted on: 2009-04-02

Elizabeth was glad to leave her host and his family and friend behind in the parlour, and stepping out into the garden with her cousin. She was almost certain that Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst would make use of the opportunity and abuse her family to the best of their ability in her absence, but she preferred giving them that opportunity to remaining in the parlour and being aware of their arch looks and supercilious smiles. There was always hope that they would be done by the time she returned to the house.

"Did you come to inquire after Jane?" she wanted to know of her cousin.

"Among others," Harry replied. "I also came to inquire after you – you did not look too happy yesterday evening, so I felt you might appreciate the company of someone familiar."

"I do," Elizabeth confessed. "I know I can talk to Jane about everything I like, only I do not wish to upset her, and if I told her about my suspicions regarding Miss Bingley – whom she believes to be her friend – that Miss Bingley does not care any more for her than she cares for me; and we all know she doesn't care for me at all…" She broke off, uncertain whether it would be wise to continue in this vein.

"You're right; it would be unwise to upset Jane while she is feeling so poorly."

"Do you agree with me then?"

"Regarding Jane? Absolutely!"

"I meant, do you agree with me regarding Miss Bingley?"

"That she does not care for Jane as much as she wishes her to believe? I am afraid I am not in her confidence."

"This is a lawyer's reply," Elizabeth said laughingly. "Sticking to facts rather than stating an opinion."

"Speaking of facts, Elizabeth, I do not know Miss Bingley well enough to have an opinion. Do you?"

"I believe I know her sufficiently well," Elizabeth sniffed.

"I take it the dislike is mutual," Harry laughed.

"I do wonder why she dislikes me," Elizabeth said. "Is it really only because I don't like her overly much either? Or do you think there are other reasons? – No; you need not reply; you don't know enough about her to have an opinion. Lawyer's talk again."

"I'm afraid it is a habit with me," Harry said ruefully. "Do you dislike lawyers' talk very much?"

"I don't," Elizabeth said and, when she noticed Harry's grin, "Not very much, anyway. It is just that I am not used to having people around me resort to good sense." Realising what she'd said, she hastily added, "Though my father, of course, is a very clever man, and Jane…"

"Is a very clever girl, though in the habit of believing only the best of people; an endearing character trait. There is also your sister Mary, who is capable of learned discourse, though I am afraid she is lacking a great deal of common sense, which somewhat makes up for her worrying tendency towards scholarship."

"So true," Elizabeth sighed. "And then there is Kitty, and Lydia. Do you know, I often worry that they will get themselves into trouble one day?"

"Don't worry. They'll grow out of it, I am sure."

"Are you saying this because you don't wish to offend me by mentioning their remarkable silliness?"

"No; I am saying this because this is what I think. Not too long ago you wanted me to state my opinions rather than facts. Having second thoughts about it? I can revert to having no opinion of my own in a moment."

"Don't you dare." Elizabeth smiled at him, but as they walked on her face darkened. "I wish I could share your optimism regarding my youngest sisters. If only they had a mother who made an effort to control them – or a father who did so, for that matter – but the fact is that they don't, and I am afraid the consequences will be dreadful if nothing is done about them."

"I think that since your parents have managed to teach you, and Jane, and Mary good principles they cannot have been entirely without success with the other two," Harry said. "They are very young, and they may be thoughtless and superficial, but they aren't bad, and surely your parents would stop them from getting into real trouble – the kind of thing you seem to be afraid of. I'm not saying that they won't make fools of themselves occasionally, but then everyone does now and then."

"Thank you," Elizabeth said quietly.

"For what?"

"For taking a weight off my shoulders," Elizabeth said.

"I was not aware that this particular burden did rest on your shoulders," Harry said. "Because it shouldn't."

"You mean I should not worry about my sisters?"

"You should not feel responsible for their conduct, at any rate. It has nothing to do with you, you know. Those who know you – and those who esteem you – will know that. Don't care about all the rest."

"I don't. Not usually. But at the moment I worry that they will do something particularly stupid; something that will put a spoke in Jane and Mr Bingley's wheel. She really is in love with him, and if anything happened to prevent him from making her an offer – it would break her heart."

"If Bingley is fond of Jane for her own sake – and I am pretty certain that it is so – her sisters will not matter to him. Besides, he might turn out to be useful, don't you agree? He seems to be pretty good at handling his own sisters; maybe he'd be equally good at handling yours, and as Jane's husband he'd have every right to do so if necessary."

"There is that, of course," Elizabeth said. She had noticed that Mr Bingley was well able to put his sister in her place, though he did not do so often enough in her opinion.

"I don't think he'd put up with anyone upsetting Jane," Harry continued. "The man has strong protective instincts; and amiable though he is I am sure he'd be willing to show his ruthless side once he thinks Jane is in any danger."

It certainly made sense, and Elizabeth fervently wished that Harry was right, and that Mr Bingley would indeed interfere, once he was married to Jane. Kitty and Lydia liked him; there was a real chance that they'd listen to him. However, knowing Kitty and Lydia – especially Lydia – for what they were, Elizabeth was not certain whether Mr Bingley had the strength of character one needed to discipline girls who had never known discipline before.

No, Mr Bingley was not the kind of man to do this; while Harry was. But Harry would return to India soon – Elizabeth felt a pang of regret as the thought occurred to her – and would therefore be unable to act on her family's behalf if the need arose. If only he'd stay. He was certainly needed around here.

Elizabeth did not choose to reflect on her wish that her cousin should stay in England. She'd merely found him pleasant company, she liked him; she respected his opinions which were well worth hearing, and she felt he was someone dependable to turn to. That was all there was to it.

She missed him in the evening, though, when she felt obliged to join the party in the drawing-room once Jane had gone to sleep. She knew he'd have been just as amused as she in watching Miss Bingley's blatant attempts at catching Mr Darcy's attention; and they could have shared a laugh or two at her expense.

Pretending to be busily employed with some needlework, she observed Miss Bingley's proceedings, and Mr Darcy's reaction to her advances. The conduct of both was in keeping with the opinion she had of them. Miss Bingley did her best to flatter the gentleman, by complimenting him on the neatness of his handwriting, the swiftness of his writing, the excellence of the expressions he used, and his patience in dealing with odious business matters. Elizabeth could not judge Mr Darcy's patience in dealing with business matters, but his patience with Miss Bingley wore off pretty soon. His answers to her remarks became increasingly sarcastic and even downright uncivil on occasion when he was goaded too far. Miss Bingley did not appear to notice. What would have been perceived as an icy set-down by any other person went high over her head.

At last, when Miss Bingley commended the quality of Mr Darcy's "charming" letters, Mr Bingley came to his friend's rescue.

Harry had been right, Elizabeth mused – Mr Bingley was certainly able to curb his sisters, and he did it so charmingly that they didn't even realise that this was what he was doing. Would the same method also work with Kitty and Lydia, if necessary? Elizabeth hoped so. It would be good to have Mr Bingley in her family, though in Elizabeth's opinion the pleasure was hugely diminished by having Miss Bingley for a sister.

Having finished his letter, Mr Darcy asked Miss Bingley and Elizabeth for some music, and Miss Bingley moved to the pianoforte almost at once, making it easy for Elizabeth to outdo her in politeness and ask her to begin. She looked over the music sheets that were on the pianoforte while Miss Bingley played, and while being thus employed she noticed that Mr Darcy's eyes often rested on her. Why he should look at her so often while he had given every sign of disliking her she did not know – in the end she decided it was because he was looking for something more in her demeanour to disapprove of.

As Miss Bingley played a Scottish air, he approached Elizabeth and asked her whether she was not tempted to seize the opportunity and dance a reel. She smiled, but did not answer, which appeared to surprise Mr Darcy. He repeated his question.

"I heard you before," Elizabeth replied. "But I did not know what to say in reply. I believe you wanted me to say yes, so you could have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always take delight in overthrowing such schemes. I have therefore made up my mind to tell you that I do not want to dance the reel at all – and now despise me if you dare."

"Indeed I do not dare," Mr Darcy replied.

Elizabeth was surprised to find that her impertinent answer did not seem to have offended him at all. He merely looked at her, almost smiling, and she wondered what was going on in his mind.

The knowledge would not have contributed to Elizabeth's peace of mind. Mr Darcy was feeling an increasing attraction towards her, and felt that if it were not for the inferiority of her connections he'd be in real danger of losing his heart to her.

Fine, not all her connections were objectionable – her sister Jane was well enough, and he knew and liked her cousin Harry Philips very well. Yet it would be an unequal match; a match that was not to be thought of.

Besides there was Harry Philips, who was quite as taken with Elizabeth Bennet as he himself was, if not more so. Even if he grew to disregard his disapproval of her family, he was not going to come between his friend and the woman that friend obviously admired. Such conduct did not correspond with Mr Darcy's idea of honourable behaviour.

Miss Bingley suspected enough of his partiality for Miss Elizabeth to grow jealous. She could hardly bring herself to be civil to her; and ardently hoped her "dearest Jane" would recover soon, knowing well that this would also mean her and her sister's removal from Netherfield.

In the meantime, she teased Darcy about his preference, and did not hesitate to describe his marital felicity in the most glowing colours.

"I hope," she said as they were walking in the shrubbery the next day, "that you will give your mother-in-law a few hints as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can contrive it, do cure the younger girls of running after the officers. And – pardon my mentioning such a delicate subject – endeavour to check that little something bordering on conceit and impertinence which your lady possesses."

"Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?" Darcy asked. His tone of voice did not encourage her to go on; however Miss Bingley was not one to take hints. He could have spared his breath.

"Oh! yes.--You must find room for the portraits of your Uncle and Aunt Philips in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great uncle, the judge. They are in the same profession, you know; only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth's picture, you must not attempt to have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?"

"It would be a difficult task indeed, though I am by no means sure that it cannot be done. The expression in her eyes, I grant you, might prove difficult to capture, but their colour and shape, and the remarkably fine eye-lashes, could be copied I am sure."

This was not quite the reply Miss Bingley had hoped for; and when they were soon afterwards joined by Miss Elizabeth herself, and Mrs Hurst, she was rather less inclined towards civility than she had been before.

She was not sorry to find that Elizabeth did not wish to continue walking with them but ran off instead; even though, in running, Elizabeth unintentionally showed off a rather well-turned ankle.