Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a note
for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited for an answer.
Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, while
her daughter read, "Well, Jane, who is it from? what is it about? what does he say?
Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love."
"It is from Miss Bingley," said Jane, and then read it aloud.
"My dear Friend, IF you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa
and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for
a whole day's te^te-a`-te^te between two women can never end without a quarrel.
Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are
to dine with the officers. Yours ever, CAROLINE BINGLEY."
"With the officers!" cried Lydia. "I wonder my aunt did not tell us of that."
"Dining out," said Mrs. Bennet, "that is very unlucky."
"Can I have the carriage?" said Jane.
"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain;
and then you must stay all night."
"That would be a good scheme," said Elizabeth, "if you were sure that they would
not offer to send her home."
"Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to Meryton; and the
Hursts have no horses to theirs."
"I had much rather go in the coach."
"But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure.
They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are not they?"
"They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them."
"But if you have got them to-day," said Elizabeth, "my mother's purpose will
She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses were
engaged. Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her mother attended
her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were answered;
Jane had not been gone long before it rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her,
but her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission;
Jane certainly could not come back.
"This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!" said Mrs. Bennet, more than once, as
if the credit of making it rain were all her own.
Till the next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her
contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought
the following note for Elizabeth: "My dearest Lizzy, I find myself very unwell this
morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday.
My kind friends will not hear of my returning home till I am better.
They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones -- therefore do not be alarmed if you
should hear of his having been to me -- and excepting a sore throat and head-ache,
there is not much the matter with me.
"Well, my dear," said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note aloud, "if
your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness, if she should die, it would
be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders."
"Oh! I am not at all afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling
colds. She will be taken good care of.
As long is she stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her, if I
could have the carriage."
Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to her, though the carriage
was not to be had; and as she was no horse-woman, walking was her only alternative.
She declared her resolution.
"How can you be so silly," cried her mother, "as to think of such a thing, in
all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there."
"I shall be very fit to see Jane -- which is all I want."
"Is this a hint to me, Lizzy," said her father, "to send for the horses?"
"No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing, when one
has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner."
"I admire the activity of your benevolence," observed Mary, "but every impulse
of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always
be in proportion to what is required."
"We will go as far as Meryton with you," said Catherine and Lydia. -- Elizabeth
accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off together.
"If we make haste," said Lydia, as they walked along, "perhaps we may see something
of Captain Carter before he goes."
In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one of the
officers' wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing field after field
at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity,
and finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ancles, dirty stockings,
and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.
She was shewn into the breakfast-parlour, where all but Jane were assembled,
and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise. -- 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 Elizabeth was convinced that
they held her in contempt for it. She was received, however, very politely by them;
and in their brother's manners there was something better than politeness; there
was good humour and kindness. -- Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst nothing
at all. The former was divided between admiration of the brilliancy which exercise
had given to her complexion, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her coming
so far alone. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast.
Her enquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss Bennet
had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish and not well enough to leave her
room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her immediately; and Jane, who had only
been withheld by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience, from expressing in her
note how much she longed for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was
not equal, however, to much conversation, and when Miss Bingley left them together,
could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude for the extraordinary kindness
she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended her.
When breakfast was over, they were joined by the sisters, and Elizabeth began
to like them herself, when she saw how much affection and solicitude they shewed
for Jane. The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be
supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get
the better of it; advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts.
The advice was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head
ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment, nor were the other
ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had in fact nothing to do elsewhere.
When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go; and very unwillingly
said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only wanted a little pressing
to accept it, when Jane testified such concern in parting with her that Miss Bingley
was obliged to convert the offer of the chaise into an invitation to remain at Netherfield
for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched
to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay, and bring back a supply of clothes.
<CHAPTER VIII (8)>
AT five o'clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half past six Elizabeth
was summoned to dinner. To the civil enquiries which then poured in, and amongst
which she had the pleasure of distinguishing the much superior solicitude of Mr.
Bingley's, she could not make a very favourable answer.
Jane was by no means better. The sisters, on hearing this, repeated three or
four times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and
how excessively they disliked being ill themselves, and then thought no more of
the matter; and their indifference towards Jane, when not immediately before them,
restored Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all her original dislike.
Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could regard with
any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his attentions to herself
most pleasing, and they prevented her feeling herself so much an intruder as she
believed she was considered by the others. She had very little notice from any but
him. Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as
for Mr. Hurst, by whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to
eat, drink, and play at cards, who, when he found her prefer a plain dish to a ragout,
had nothing to say to her.
When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley began abusing
her as soon as she was out of the room.
Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence;
she had no conversation, no stile, 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