Janet Aylmer - Darcy’s Story

He replied without any hesitation, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” repeated Miss Bingley, by turns angry and mortified. “I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite? and pray, when am I to wish you joy?”

“That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask,” Darcy replied calmly. “A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.”

“Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter as absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed, and of course she will be always at Pemberley with you.”

He listened to her without comment, whilst reflecting that his sister’s opinion of Miss Bingley was perhaps very fair.

Despite his silence, she chose to entertain herself by continuing in this vein for some time, but Darcy took no notice, being as usual unconcerned with any opinion contrary to his own.

He never speaks much unless amongst his intimate

acquaintance... 

but...Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself

without any disguise.

On the following day, since Bingley and Darcy were to dine with the officers of the regiment, Caroline Bingley sent a note by a servant to Longbourn, to invite Miss Jane Bennet to join the two sisters for dinner that evening.

When the gentlemen returned, it was raining, and they were greeted with the news that Miss Bennet had indeed travelled to Netherfield, but on horseback. The consequence of her not travelling in her father’s carriage meant that she was to remain overnight. The next morning it soon became clear that her damp journey had resulted in Miss Bennet catching a chill, with a sore throat.

Bingley and his sisters would not hear of her returning home until she was better, so a note was sent to tell Miss Elizabeth Bennet that Mr. Jones the apothecary had been called, although there was no cause for alarm. When Darcy looked out of the window a few hours later, it was with some considerable surprise that he saw that same lady trudging across the lawns in front of Netherfield House.

When she was shown into the breakfast parlour, where Bingley and the others were all seated, it was clear from the state of her skirts that she must have walked all the 3 miles from Longbourn. When this was questioned by Miss Bingley, Miss Elizabeth Bennet explained that she was no horsewoman and enjoyed walking. She asked anxiously to be taken immediately to see her sister.

As she left the room, Darcy could not help but note that her face was glowing with the warmth of the exercise, although he doubted whether she should have come so far alone. Two of those present had less charitable matters on their mind. That she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and they commented upon it at length. Darcy did not support their criticisms, and Mr. Hurst said nothing at all, since he was thinking only of his breakfast.

It soon became clear that Miss Bennet had not slept well, being very feverish and not well enough to leave her room. When breakfast was over, the apothecary came and, having examined his patient, said that she had caught a violent cold, and advised her to return to bed, promising to provide some draughts. The advice was followed readily, since her feverish symptoms had apparently increased, together with a headache.

That morning, Darcy and Bingley went out to shoot with Mr. Hurst and, when they returned, found that Miss Bingley had offered Miss Elizabeth Bennet the carriage for her return journey. However, her elder sister had been so concerned at her leaving that the offer had to be converted into an invitation for her to remain at Netherfield for the present.

Darcy was not unhappy that this offer was accepted, and in due course to see Miss Elizabeth Bennet summoned to dinner. To the enquiries that were made, she could not respond with a very favourable answer and, after dinner, she returned directly to her sister’s room.

Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was gone. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no style, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and added,

“She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild.”

“She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowsy!”

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

“Your picture may be very exact, Louisa,” said Bingley; who had been listening to this conversation with little enthusiasm, “but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice.”

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

“Certainly not.”

“To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country town indifference to decorum.”

“It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing,” said Bingley.

“I am afraid, Mr. Darcy,” observed Miss Bingley, in a half whisper, “that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes.”

He was not inclined to indulge her, and replied, “Not at all, they were brightened by the exercise.”

A short pause followed this. Then Mrs. Hurst began again.

“I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it.”

“I think I have heard you say, that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton.”

“Yes, and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.”

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

“If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside,” said Bingley, mindful that their own father had made his fortune from trade, “it would not make them one jot less agreeable.”

“But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world,” replied Darcy, who had found by experience that his friend did not always by any means share his concern for the niceties of social standing and consequence.

Bingley did not reply, but his sisters gave this view their hearty assent, and they went on to indulge their mirth for some time at the expense of Miss Bennet’s vulgar relations.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet would not quit her sister till late in the evening. When she entered the drawing-room, the whole party was at loo, and she was immediately invited to join them. Making her sister the excuse, she said that she would amuse herself with a book for the short time she could stay below. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment.

“Do you prefer reading to cards?” said he; “that is rather singular.”

Miss Bingley could not resist making a point from this.

“Miss Eliza Bennet despises cards. She is a great reader and has no pleasure in anything else.”

The object of her scorn looked surprised at this attack, but replied quietly, “I deserve neither such praise nor such censure. I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.”

This seemed a satisfactory answer to Darcy, and his friend’s comments were to the same effect.

“In nursing your sister, I am sure you will have pleasure, and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well.”

Miss Bennet thanked him, and then walked towards a table where a few books were lying. Bingley immediately offered to fetch her others from his library, but she assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those in the room.

“I am astonished,” said Miss Bingley, “that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!”

“It ought to be good,” he replied, “it has been the work of many generations.”

“And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books.”

He was not sure that this was a commendation, but replied, “I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these.”

“Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley.”

“I wish it may,” her brother replied.

“But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire.”

“With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it.”

“I am talking of possibilities, Charles.”

“Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation.”

Darcy then saw that Miss Elizabeth Bennet laid her book aside. She moved to stand near the card-table between Mr. Bingley and his eldest sister to observe the game.

“Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?” said Miss Bingley; “will she be as tall as I am?”

Darcy looked at her for a moment, and then turned to her guest as he said, “I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height, or rather taller.”

“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the piano-forte is exquisite.”

“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished, as they all are.”

“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?” said his sister.

“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens and net purses.

I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse, or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”

“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley, quick to agree with him.

“Then,” observed Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Darcy, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.” She half smiled at him as she spoke, and Darcy was tempted to do so in kind, as he said, “Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

“Oh! certainly,” cried Miss Bingley to Darcy, not wishing to be overlooked, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished, who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with.”

Since he said nothing, she went on, “A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, addressing Miss Bennet, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any,” said Miss Elizabeth Bennet.