Janet Aylmer - Darcy’s Story

Darcy was not sure whether she doubted the idea, or his own opinion.

“Are you so severe upon your own sex, as to doubt the possibility of all this?”

“I never saw such a woman,” Miss Bennet replied, “I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, united.”

Both Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley protested at this, saying that they knew many women who answered this description. But Mr. Hurst then called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention.

It was with regret that Darcy saw Miss Bennet soon afterwards leave the room.

“Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, “is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex, by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds.”

She looked to the others for a reaction, but in vain, so she went on, “But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.”

“Undoubtedly,” replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, “there is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable.”

As he had intended, Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with his reply as to continue the subject.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones’s being sent for immediately; while his sisters recommended that an express be sent for one of the most eminent physicians from town. This, she did not agree to, but it was settled that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if Miss Bennet were not decidedly better.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet in the morning was able to send a better answer to the enquiries that she very early received from Bingley, but requested to have a note sent to Longbourn, desiring her mother to visit her sister, and form her own judgement of her situation.

Although this was not a prospect that Darcy, or Bingley’s  sisters, viewed with any enthusiasm, the note was immediately dispatched, and its contents as quickly complied with, and Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her youngest daughters, Catherine and Lydia, reached Netherfield soon after breakfast.

On being satisfied on seeing her that her eldest daughter’s illness was not alarming, she would not listen to her being moved home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with her daughter, on Miss Bingley’s appearance and invitation, the mother and three younger daughters all attended their hostess into the breakfast parlour, where they found Darcy with his friend.

Bingley met them with hopes that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Jane worse than she expected.

“Indeed, Sir, 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.”

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

“You may depend upon it, Madam,” said Miss Bingley, with cold civility, “that Miss Bennet shall receive every possible attention while she remains with us.”

Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgements. “I am sure,” she 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. You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, 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.”

“Whatever I do is done in a hurry,” replied he; “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 Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Darcy, who had been looking out of the window hoping that Mrs. Bennet’s stay would be curtailed, turned to look with more interest at what was being said on hearing her daughter’s voice.

“You begin to comprehend me, do you?” replied Bingley.

“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.”

“That is as it happens,” said Miss Elizabeth, “it does not necessarily follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.”

“Lizzy,” cried her mother, “remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.”

“I did not know before,” continued Bingley immediately to her daughter, “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, in a bid to gain her attention, “can in general supply but few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society.”

Miss Elizabeth did not dissent to that, and added, “But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever.”

To Darcy’s regret, they were then interrupted.

“Yes, indeed,” cried Mrs. Bennet, looking most offended, “I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town.”

Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had triumphed over him, persisted.

“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?”

“When I am in the country,” he replied, “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.”

“Aye—that is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman,” said Mrs. Bennet, looking straight at Darcy, “seemed to think the country was nothing at all.”

“Indeed, Mama, you are mistaken,” said Miss Elizabeth Bennet, 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.”

Darcy observed that Miss Elizabeth Bennet, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother’s thoughts, now asked Mrs. Bennet if her friend Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since her coming away.

“Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley—is not he? so much the man of fashion! So genteel and so easy! He has always something to say to every body. That is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important and,” looking at Darcy as she spoke, “never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter.”

“Did Charlotte dine with you?” asked Miss Elizabeth. 

“No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince pies. For my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their own work; my daughters are brought up differently. But every body is to judge for themselves, and the Lucases are a 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.”

“She seems a very pleasant young woman,” said Bingley.

“Oh! dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane’s beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, one does not often see anybody 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.”

“And so ended his affection,” said Miss Elizabeth scornfully. “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!”

Darcy was surprised at this answer and decided to venture a reply.

“I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love,” said he.

“Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Every thing nourishes what is strong already.” Miss Elizabeth paused, but then in her lively way added, “But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.”

Darcy smiled at this; but said nothing. A general pause ensued, until Mrs. Bennet repeated her thanks to Bingley for his kindness to her eldest daughter, with an apology for troubling him also with her sister, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage.

At this, her youngest daughter, Lydia, a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, taxed Bingley with having promised on his first coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield, adding that it would be the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it.

His answer to this sudden attack was more civil than Darcy thought that it deserved, contrasting her very forward style of address with that of his sister. However, Bingley as ever refused to be affronted.

“I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your sister is recovered, you shall if you please name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing while she is ill.”

“Oh! yes it would be much better to wait till Jane was well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter would be at Meryton again. And when you have given your ball,” she added, “I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.”

Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Miss Elizabeth Bennet returned instantly to her sister, leaving her own and her relations’ behaviour to the remarks of the two ladies.

Darcy, however, could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of her, in spite of all Miss Bingley’s witticisms on fine eyes.

The next day, the invalid kept to her bed but continued, though slowly, to mend; and in the evening Miss Elizabeth Bennet joined the party in the drawing-room.

Darcy was writing, and thus continued, although he was very aware of her entering the room, and taking up some needlework.

Mr. Hurst and Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing their game. Miss Bingley, seated nearer to Darcy, had been watching the progress of his letter, and repeatedly disturbed him by calling his attention to her messages to his sister.

The perpetual commendations of the lady either on his handwriting, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length of his letter, formed a conversation that increasingly began to irritate Darcy.

“How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!”

He made no answer.

“You write uncommonly fast.”

He wrote two more lines before replying, “You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.”

“How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of the year! Letters of business too! How odious I should think them!”

Again he continued writing for some time before saying, “It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours.”

He hoped that she would then desist, but it was not to be.

“Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.”

He looked back at what he had already penned, and then said sharply, “I have already told her so once, by your desire.”

A few welcome minutes of silence then ensued. He even had some hopes that he might be able to finish the letter uninterrupted, and he paused, considering the last few sentences he had written. But Caroline Bingley’s voice was then again heard addressing him.