Amanda Grange - Mr. Darcy's Diary

‘Is there anything I can do for her?’ asked Bingley.

‘No, thank you,’ she replied.

‘There is nothing she needs?’

‘No, she has everything.’

‘Very well, but you must let me know if there is anything I can give her which will ease her suffering.’

‘Thank you, I will,’ she said, touched.

‘You look tired. You have been sitting with her all day.

You must let me help you to a bowl of soup. I do not want you to grow ill with nursing your sister.’

She smiled at his kindness, and I blessed him. He has an ease of manner which I do not possess, and I was glad to see him use it to help her to the best of the dishes on the table.

‘I must return to Jane,’ she said, as soon as dinner was over.

I would rather she had stayed. As soon as she left, Caroline and Louisa began abusing her.

‘I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild,’ said Louisa.

‘She did indeed, Louisa,’ returned Caroline.

‘I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud,’ said Louisa.

At this Bingley exploded.

‘Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice,’ he said.

‘You observed it, I am sure, Mr Darcy,’ said Caroline.

‘I am afraid that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes.’

‘Not at all,’ I retorted. ‘They were brightened by the exercise.’

Caroline was silenced. I will not have her abusing Miss Elizabeth Bennet to me, though I am sure she will abuse her the moment my back is turned.

‘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,’ said Louisa.

‘I think I have heard you say, that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton,’ remarked Caroline.

‘Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside,’ said Louisa.

‘If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside, it would not make them one jot less agreeable,’ cried Bingley.

‘But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world,’ I remarked.

It does no harm to remind Bingley of reality. He was almost carried away last year, and nearly proposed to a young lady whose father was a baker. There is nothing wrong with bakers, but they do not belong in the family, and neither do attorneys or people who live in Cheapside.

‘How well you put it, Mr Darcy,’ said Caroline.

‘Couldn’t have put it better myself,’ chimed in Mr Hurst, rousing himself momentarily from his stupor.

‘Cheapside!’ said Louisa.

Bingley said nothing, but sank into gloom.

His sisters presently visited the sick room, and when they came down, Miss Elizabeth Bennet was with them.

‘Join us for cards?’ asked Mr Hurst.

‘No, thank you,’ she said, seeing the stakes.

To begin with, she took up a book, but by and by she walked over to the card-table and attended to the game.

Her figure was displayed to advantage as she stood behind Caroline’s chair.

‘Is Miss Darcy much grown since spring?’ asked Caroline. ‘Will she be as tall as I am?’

‘I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height, or rather taller.’

‘How I long to see her again! Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age!’

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

‘All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?’ asked Caroline.

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

‘Your list of the common extent of accomplishments has too much truth,’ I said, amused. I have been told that dozens of young ladies are accomplished, only to find that they can do no more than paint prettily. ‘I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen.’

‘Nor I, I am sure,’ said Caroline.

‘Then you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman,’ said Miss Bennet.

Did I imagine it, or was she laughing at me? Perhaps, but perhaps not. I was stung to retort: ‘Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it.’

‘Oh! certainly,’ said Caroline.

Miss Bennet was not abashed, as I had intended her to be. Indeed, as Caroline listed the accomplishments of a truly accomplished woman, I distinctly saw a smile spreading across Miss Bennet’s face. It started at her eyes, when Caroline began by saying: ‘A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing and the modern languages…’ and had spread to her mouth by the time Caroline ended: ‘She must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions.’

Miss Bennet’s amusement annoyed me, and I added severely: ‘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 at your knowing any,’ said Miss Bennet with a laugh.

I should have been angered by her sauciness, but somehow I felt an answering smile spring into my eyes.

It seemed absurd, all of a sudden, that I should expect so much from the opposite sex, when a pair of fine eyes was all that was needed to bestow true happiness. It is a happiness I have never felt when listening to a woman sing or play the piano, and I doubt if I ever will.

‘Are you so severe upon your own sex, as to doubt the possibility of all this?’ asked Caroline.

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

I began to wonder if I had ever seen it myself.

Caroline and Louisa rose to the challenge, declaring they knew many women who answered this description.

Miss Bennet bent her head, but not in acknowledgement of defeat. She did it so that they would not see the smile that was widening about her mouth.

It was only when I saw her smile that I realized they were contradicting their own earlier professions, when they had said that few such women existed. They were now saying that such women were commonplace. As I watched Miss Bennet’s smile spread to her eyes, I thought I had never liked her better, nor enjoyed a discussion more.

Mr Hurst called his wife and her sister to order, drawing their attention back to the game, and Miss Bennet returned to her sister’s sick room.

I realized that there is a strong bond of affection between her and her sister. I could not help thinking that Caroline and Louisa would not have been so eager to wait upon each other, if one of them had been ill; though they, too, are sisters, there seems to be very little affection between them. It is a pity. The affection of my sister is one of the greatest joys of my life.

‘Eliza Bennet,’ said Caroline, when Miss Bennet had left the room, ‘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.

But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.’

‘Undoubtedly, there is a meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation.

Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable.’

She retired from the lists, and retreated into her game.

I returned to my room at last, feeling dissatisfied with the day. My usual peace of mind had deserted me. I found myself thinking, not of what I was going to do tomorrow, but of Elizabeth Bennet.

I have had a timely reminder of the folly of being carried away by a pair of fine eyes. Elizabeth sent a note to her mother this morning, requesting her to come and make her own judgement on Miss Bennet’s state of health.