The next day passed much like the one before.
Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley spent several hours with Jane during the morning.
Jane was still sick, but she was slowly getting better.
That evening, Elizabeth joined everyone in the drawing room.
There was no card game this time.
Mr. Darcy was sitting at a desk, writing a letter.
Miss Bingley sat beside him, watching him write and constantly finding excuses to interrupt him.
Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were playing cards at another table, while Mrs. Hurst watched their game.
Elizabeth picked up some needlework and quietly observed Darcy and Miss Bingley.
Miss Bingley kept praising everything about Darcy’s letter.
“You have such beautiful handwriting.”
Darcy said nothing.
“Your lines are so perfectly straight.”
He continued writing.
“You write so quickly.”
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I actually write rather slowly.”
“You must have so many letters to write every year.”
“And business letters too! I would hate that.”
“It’s fortunate that those letters are my responsibility rather than yours.”
“Please tell your sister that I’m dying to see her.”
“I already told her that, because you asked me to.”
“I don’t think you like that pen.”
“Let me sharpen it for you. I’m very good at repairing pens.”
“Thank you, but I prefer to do it myself.”
“How do you manage to keep every line so straight?”
Darcy remained silent.
“Please tell your sister how happy I am to hear that she has improved so much at the harp.”
“And tell her that I absolutely love the little design she made for a table.”
“I think it’s much better than Miss Grantley’s.”
“May I save all those compliments until I write to her again?”
“I don’t have enough room here to write them properly.”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter.”
“I’ll see her in January anyway.”
“But tell me, Mr. Darcy, do you always write such long and charming letters to your sister?”
“They are usually long.”
“Whether they are charming is for other people to decide.”
Miss Bingley smiled.
“I have always believed that anyone who can easily write a long letter must also be a good writer.”
Her brother laughed.
“That compliment doesn’t really work for Darcy, Caroline.”
“He doesn’t write easily at all.”
“He thinks far too much about every word.”
“Don’t you, Darcy?”
Darcy looked at him.
“My way of writing is very different from yours.”
Miss Bingley laughed.
“Charles writes as carelessly as possible.”
“He leaves words out and then covers the page with ink.”
Bingley defended himself.
“My thoughts move so quickly that I don’t always have time to put them into words.”
“That’s why my letters sometimes make no sense at all.”
Elizabeth smiled.
“Your modesty makes it difficult to criticize you, Mr. Bingley.”
Darcy disagreed.
“Nothing can be more misleading than someone who appears modest.”
“Sometimes what looks like modesty is simply carelessness.”
“And sometimes it is a way of secretly boasting.”
Bingley raised an eyebrow.
“So which one do you think my modest little speech was?”
“The second.”
“You were secretly boasting.”
Bingley laughed.
“How could I possibly be boasting about being a bad writer?”
“You are proud of your weaknesses because you believe they come from thinking quickly and writing carelessly.”
“You think those qualities make you interesting, even if they don’t make your letters better.”
“People often admire themselves for doing things quickly without noticing whether they do them well.”
“Take what you said to Mrs. Bennet this morning.”
“You claimed that if you ever decided to leave Netherfield, you could be gone in five minutes.”
“You meant that as a compliment to yourself.”
“But what is admirable about rushing away so quickly that you might leave important business unfinished?”
“That kind of haste helps neither you nor anyone else.”
Bingley laughed.
“That’s too much, Darcy.”
“Are you really going to remember every foolish thing we said in the morning?”
“I honestly believed what I said about myself.”
“And I still believe it.”
“At least I wasn’t pretending to be careless just to impress the ladies.”
Darcy smiled.
“I believe you think it’s true.”
“But I’m not convinced you would really leave that quickly.”
“You’re too easily influenced by circumstances.”
“If you were about to ride away and a friend said, ‘Bingley, why don’t you stay until next week?’ you would probably stay.”
“And if he asked you again, you might stay for a month.”
Elizabeth laughed.
“I think you’ve just proved that Mr. Bingley understands himself less well than you do.”
“You’ve made him sound much more charming than he made himself sound.”
Bingley smiled at Elizabeth.
“I’m delighted that you’ve turned Darcy’s criticism into a compliment about my good nature.”
“But I’m afraid that isn’t what Darcy intended.”
“He would probably respect me more if I refused to listen to a friend and rode away as quickly as possible.”
Elizabeth looked at Darcy.
“Then would you forgive his original foolish decision simply because he stubbornly carried it out?”
Bingley turned to his friend.
“Darcy, you’ll have to explain that one.”
Darcy looked at Elizabeth.
“You are asking me to defend opinions that you have decided are mine, even though I never actually said them.”
“But let us accept your version of the situation for the moment.”
“You must remember that the friend asking Bingley to return home has offered no real reason for asking him to change his plans.”
Elizabeth replied,
“So you think there is no virtue in listening to a friend simply because you care about that person?”
“To change your mind without being convinced by an argument is not a sign of good judgment.”
Elizabeth disagreed.
“You seem to leave no room for friendship and affection.”
“If someone you care about asks you to do something, you may want to do it simply because you care about them.”
“You don’t always need a logical argument before agreeing.”
“I’m not talking specifically about your example with Mr. Bingley.”
“We can wait until something like that actually happens.”
“But in ordinary situations, if a friend asks you to change a minor decision, would you really think badly of someone for agreeing without demanding a detailed explanation?”
Darcy remained serious.
“Before we continue, perhaps we should decide exactly how important the request is and how close the two people are.”
Bingley laughed.
“Excellent.”
“Let’s discuss every detail.”
“And don’t forget their height and size, Miss Bennet.”
“That may be more important than you realize.”
“If Darcy weren’t so much taller and larger than me, I certainly wouldn’t be nearly so respectful of him.”
“I honestly don’t know anyone more frightening than Darcy when he chooses to be.”
“Especially at his own house.”
“And particularly on a Sunday evening when he has nothing to do.”
Darcy smiled, but Elizabeth thought he looked slightly offended.
She tried not to laugh.
Miss Bingley, however, was not amused.
“Charles, that is ridiculous.”
“You shouldn’t make fun of Mr. Darcy like that.”
Darcy looked at his friend.
“I understand what you’re doing, Bingley.”
“You don’t like arguments, so you’re trying to end this one.”
“Perhaps I am.”
“Arguments are too much like quarrels.”
“If you and Miss Bennet would wait until I leave the room before continuing, I would be very grateful.”
“Then you can say whatever you like about me.”
Elizabeth smiled.
“I have no objection.”
“Mr. Darcy should simply finish his letter.”
Darcy returned to his writing.
A short time later, he finished the letter.
He then turned to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth.
“Would you ladies like some music?”
Miss Bingley immediately went to the piano.
She politely asked Elizabeth to play first.
Elizabeth politely refused.
Miss Bingley then sat down and began playing.
Mrs. Hurst joined her in singing.
While they performed, Elizabeth looked through some music books on the piano.
She noticed that Darcy kept looking at her.
She found it difficult to believe that a man like Darcy could admire her.
But if he disliked her, why was he watching her so closely?
Eventually, Elizabeth decided that he must simply be noticing her because he thought there was something wrong with her.
The idea did not bother her.
She cared too little about Darcy’s opinion to be offended by it.
After playing several Italian songs, Miss Bingley changed to a lively Scottish tune.
Darcy walked over to Elizabeth.
“Miss Bennet, surely you must feel like dancing.”
“Wouldn’t you enjoy joining us for a reel?”
Elizabeth smiled but said nothing.
Darcy repeated the question.
She finally looked at him.
“Oh, I heard you.”
“I just couldn’t decide what answer you wanted.”
“You were hoping I would say yes so that you could make fun of my taste in dancing.”
“But I enjoy ruining plans like that.”
“I won’t give you the satisfaction.”
“I don’t want to dance.”
“So now you may despise me if you wish.”
Darcy smiled.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Elizabeth had expected to annoy him.
Instead, his answer was so charming that she was surprised.
There was something playful and warm in her manner that made it difficult for anyone to take offense at her.
Darcy was more attracted to her than he had ever been to another woman.
If her family connections had been better, he feared he might truly fall in love with her.
Miss Bingley noticed what was happening.
Or at least, she strongly suspected it.
She immediately became jealous.
Her concern for Jane’s health was now mixed with another wish.
She wanted Elizabeth out of Netherfield.
Miss Bingley often tried to make Darcy dislike Elizabeth.
She would jokingly talk about Darcy marrying Elizabeth and then describe all the problems such a marriage would cause.
The following day, she and Darcy were walking together in the garden.
Miss Bingley smiled.
“I hope that if you ever marry Elizabeth, you’ll teach your future mother-in-law to keep quiet.”
“And perhaps you could also stop the younger girls from chasing after officers.”
“There’s one more thing.”
“You should probably teach your wife not to be so proud and rude.”
Darcy looked at her.
“Is there anything else you would like to suggest for my future happiness?”
“Oh, certainly.”
“You should put portraits of Uncle and Aunt Philips in the gallery at Pemberley.”
“Place them next to your great-uncle, the judge.”
“They are all in the same general profession, after all.”
“And as for Elizabeth’s portrait, don’t even bother having one painted.”
“No artist could possibly do justice to those beautiful eyes.”
Darcy smiled.
“It might be difficult to capture their expression.”
“But their shape, color, and beautiful eyelashes could certainly be painted.”
Before Miss Bingley could reply, they met Mrs. Hurst and Elizabeth coming from another path.
Miss Bingley looked uncomfortable.
“I didn’t realize you were going for a walk.”
Mrs. Hurst laughed.
“You treated us terribly.”
“You left without even telling us you were going out.”
She immediately took Darcy’s free arm and left Elizabeth walking beside them.
The path was too narrow for four people.
Darcy noticed their rudeness.
“This path isn’t wide enough for all of us.”
“Perhaps we should take the wider avenue.”
Elizabeth had no desire to stay with them.
She laughed.
“No, no.”
“You three look perfectly arranged together.”
“Adding me would ruin the picture.”
“Goodbye.”
She quickly walked away, amused by the whole situation.
As she wandered through the grounds, she was happy to think that Jane was recovering.
Jane was already well enough to plan on leaving her bed for a couple of hours that evening.