Jane Austin - Pride and Prejudice

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 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

headache, there is not much the matter with me.—Yours, etc.”

“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 afraid of her dying. People do not die of little

trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as 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

horsewoman, 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

ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of

exercise.

She was shown 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

besides 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 showed 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 to 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.

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 former 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 to 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 style, 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