----------------------------------------
An early visitation was made upon us at Netherfield this day, as Mrs. Bennet, along with her two youngest daughters, made their way to inquire after Miss Bennet’s health. The anxiety that hung about the mother seemed not entirely for the wellbeing of her daughter, but also for the potential consequences her recovery might imply regarding their stay.
Upon examination, Mr. Jones—the local apothecary—affirmed the severity of Miss Bennet’s illness, warranting her continued residence under our roof. Mrs. Bennet's relief at this news was palpable, and she readily accepted Miss Bingley’s invitation to join the breakfast parlour. Mr. Bingley met them with his characteristic goodwill, expressing hopes that Mrs. Bennet had not found her daughter’s condition to be worse than expected.
“Indeed I have, sir,” Mrs. Bennet replied with an air of affected concern. “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.”
The conversation that followed was a delicate dance, each participant playing their part with varying degrees of sincerity. Miss Bingley offered assurances of her brother's willingness to host Miss Bennet for as long as necessary, and Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her gratitude, seizing the opportunity to extol the virtues of Netherfield and its master.
Elizabeth’s entry into the discussion was marked by her usual poise and perceptiveness, engaging Mr. Bingley in a playful exchange about his ability to remain fixed in his decisions. It was an interaction that I observed closely, for in her words, I discerned a keen understanding of character—a trait that set her apart from others.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“You begin to comprehend me, do you?” Mr. Bingley asked, directing his attention towards Elizabeth.
“Oh yes—I understand you perfectly,” she assured him.
The exchange between them allowed me a glimpse into Elizabeth's discerning nature, and her subsequent conversation with her mother further highlighted her efforts to navigate the social complexities of our gathering with grace.
As the morning progressed, the dialogue meandered through topics of character study, the merits of town and country, and the attributes of an accomplished woman—a subject that seemed to capture the interest of all present. It was during this discourse that I found myself unexpectedly aligned with Elizabeth in our understanding of true accomplishment, a sentiment that appeared to surprise even Miss Bingley.
Mrs. Bennet's interjections, though well-intentioned, often bordered on the indelicate, prompting Elizabeth to intervene with subtle redirections. The exchanges, at times, bordered on the contentious, but it was the unaffected civility of Mr. Bingley that maintained a semblance of harmony.
The visit concluded with Mrs. Bennet ordering her carriage, not before Lydia, her youngest, boldly reminded Mr. Bingley of his promise to host a ball—a reminder that elicited from him a commitment that was as generous as it was calculated to please.
“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?”
Lydia declared herself satisfied. “Oh yes!
As the Bennet ladies took their leave, I reflected upon the morning's events. The interactions had laid bare the nuances of our social fabric, the threads of which were woven with expectations, propriety, and the unspoken rules that govern our conduct.
In the quiet that followed their departure, I found myself contemplating the peculiarities of Elizabeth Bennet's character. Her intelligence, her wit, and her evident devotion to her family painted a portrait of a woman whose complexity was becoming increasingly endearing to me.
As I retire to my chambers this evening, I do so with a mind preoccupied by the day's conversations and the realization that my interest in Elizabeth Bennet continues to deepen, challenging my notions of what is proper, what is expected, and what is truly worthy of admiration.
Fitzwilliam Darcy