Chapter-4
The two youngest daughters of the family, Kitty and Lydia, were very busy at this time. Every day they walked to Meryton, a mile away, to visit their mother’s sister, Mrs. Philips, who was married to a lawyer in that town. Every night they were full of news. A regiment had recently arrived in Meryton. It was to remain there all winter. Every day Kitty and Lydia learnt more about the officers. Soon they began to know them personally. They could talk of nothing except officers. Mr. Bingley’s large fortune, which interested their mother so much, was nothing compared to a junior officer’s uniform.
One morning, after listening to their remarks on this subject, Mr. Bennet calmly said, “You must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it for a long time, but now I am sure of it.”
I am astonished, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that you should think your own children are silly. It happens that they are all very clever.”
“That is the only matter, I am glad to say, on which we do not agree. I still think that our two youngest daughters are unusually silly.”
Mrs. Bennet was about to reply when a servant entered the room with a letter for Jane Bennet. It came from Netherfield and the servent waited for an answer. Mrs. Bennet was delighted and she cried out while her daughter was still reading.
“Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, Jane, hurry up and tell us; hurry up, my love!”
“It is from Miss Bingley,” said Jane. She wishes me to dine with herself and Mrs. Hurst. The gentlemen are going out to dinner with the officers.”
“The gentlemen will be out?” said Mrs. Bennet. “That is very unlucky.”
“Can I use the carriage?” asked Jane.
“No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it is likely to rain. Then you will have to spend the night.”
Jane would have preferred to go in the carriage but she had to go on horseback. Her mother said goodbye at the door with many cheerful hopes of bad weather. Her wishes were answered. Soon after Jane had left it rained hard. Her sisters were worried about her, but her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole evening; Jane certainly could not come back.
“This was a lucky idea of mine!” said Mrs. Bennet more than once, as if she herself had brought the rain. It was not until the next morning, however, that she knew exactly how well she had arranged things. Just after breakfast, a servant brought a letter from Jane. She was very ill as a result of getting wet the day before. Her kind friends at Netherfield insisted that she must stay there until she was better.
“Well, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet, “if your daughter becomes dangerously ill—if she dies—it will be a comfort to know that she did so while trying to catch Mr. Bingley.”
“Oh, I am not afraid of her dying. She will be well taken care of. As long as she stays there, she will be all right.”
Elizabeth was really anxious to see her sister. The carriage was being used and she decided to walk.
“How silly your are!” cried her mother, “You will be covered with mud when you get there. You will not be fit to be seen.”
I shall be fit to see Jane—which is all I want. It is only three miles. I shall be back for dinner.”
At half past six Elizabeth was called to dinner. Everyone asked how Jane was, but she was not better. The sisters said three or four times how sorry they were and how much they themselves disliked being ill—and then they thought no more about it. Their indifference to Jane, when she was not actually with them, revived Elizabeth’s dislike of them.
Their brother, in fact, was the only one of the party whom she liked. His sincere anxiety about Jane, and his kindness to Elizabeth herself, made her feel less unwelcome. No one else paid her much attention. Miss Bingley and her sister were busy with Mr. Darcy. Mr. Hurst was only interested in eating, drinking and playing cards.
When dinner was over she returned at once to Jane. As soon as she was out of the room, Miss Bingley began criticising her: her manners were very bad indeed—a mixture of pride and impertinence. She had no merits at all—except that she was an excellent walker; How ridiculous to walk so far, just because her sister had a cold! Her hair was untidy. Her petticoat was covered with mud.
“You may be right,” said Bingley, “but I did not notice any of this. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked very well indeed when she came into the room this morning. I did not notice the petticoat at all.”
“You noticed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley, “I think that you would not like your sister to show off like that.”
“Certainly not.”
“She shows an affection for her sister which is very pleasant,” said Bingley.
“I am afraid, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bingley, “that you may have less admiration for her eyes now.”
“Not at all. They were brighter than ever.”
A short pause followed this remark. Then Mrs. Hurst began again, “I have the greatest affection for Jane Bennet. She is a very sweet girl and I hope she marries very well. But with such mother and father, I am afraid she has no chance of it. One uncle is a lawyer in Meryton. Another is a tradesman in Cheapside!”
The two sisters both laughed heartily at the thought of anyone living in Cheapside.
“If Cheapside were full of her uncles,” cried Bingley, “it would not make her less attractive.”
“But it must certainly reduce her chance of marrying a man of any importance,” replied Darcy.
Bingley did not reply; but his sisters heartily agreed and laughed for some time about their dear friend’s relations.
Elizabeth sat with her sister all evening. Jane was still very ill, but at last she fell asleep. Then Elizabeth thought it was polite to go downstairs herself. She found the others playing cards. She stood near them, watching the game.
Miss Bingley was asking Mr. Darcy about his sister. “How I long to see her again! Such beauty, such good manners! And so talented! She plays the piano beautifully.”
“It amazes me,” said Bingley, “how talented all young ladies are nowadays. They all paint tables and embroider screens.”
“But I would not call them talented,” said Darcy, “I do not know more than six really talented women amongst all my friends.”
“Certainly,” said his faithful assistant, Miss Bingley. “No one can be really talented who does not know a great deal about music, singing, drawing, dancing and languages. In addition, she must have an attractive appearance, a graceful walk, a pretty voice and good manners.”
“She must have all this,” Darcy agreed, “And in addition she must have educated her mind by much serious reading.”
“I am no longer surprised that you only know six talented women,” said Elizabeth, “I am surprised that you know any!”
Both Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley cried out that they knew many women like this. But Mr. Hurst demanded that they should pay more attention to the card game and Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room.
