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“Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,” said Elizabeth. “We can all plague and punish one another. Tease him, laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”

“Upon my honour, I know not what about Mr. Darcy could be made a joke of. How can one tease calmness of manner and presence of mind?” was Miss Bingley’s answer.

“Then I should hope not to meet many of Mr. Darcy’s ilk, for perfect people—free of all folly and inconsistency—must be a rather dull subject for observation.”

“Perfect, I am not,” said the gentleman. “I daresay that were you to meet my cousins, they could provide you with a great many things to make sport of.”

“That is a great relief,” said Elizabeth. “I should not like it if perfection were already achieved, for the rest of us would then have nothing to strive for.”

Mr. Darcy smiled. It occurred to Elizabeth that when Mr. Darcy’s amusement was genuine, his smile was rather becoming. “Is perfection then the pursuit of your life?”

“Certainly not!” she proclaimed. “I enjoy my imperfections far too much for that, besides which, if one believes the ton, what qualifies as perfection changes every fortnight. One might come near to achieving perfection, only to have it change before their eyes. I would much rather leave Sisyphus and the fashionable set to such a task.”

“I cannot say I am acquainted with the name Sisyphus,” said Miss Bingley, “and I assure you that such obscure persons are not to be found among the fashionable set.”

Elizabeth smiled. “I am glad to hear it, Miss Bingley. I do not believe a Grecian style of dress complements me.”

Mr. Darcy turned away to hide a smile at the confused expression on Miss Bingley’s face. She, feeling rather discomforted by the sensation of being made sport of, announced that they ought to have a little music. Her sister had not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was opened; and Darcy, after a few moments’ recollection, was not sorry for it. He seemed to retreat into himself, and his gaze remained fixed upon the pianoforte as he wondered if he ought to refrain from paying Miss Elizabeth Bennet so much attention.

Chapter 11

Jane was well enough that evening to remove from her room for a short while. Mr. Bingley was all solicitousness, ensuring the fire was roaring and screens placed about, to prevent his ailing guest from feeling the slightest chill. The others, too, showed great consideration to Miss Bennet, excepting Miss Bingley, who quite used up her capacity for hospitality in seeing that Mr. Darcy never had an unmet need or a word spoken that she did not echo. Elizabeth sat at her needlework, amused with the goings-on and pleased with the health that had returned to Jane’s complexion after a long afternoon’s rest.

Indeed, by the next morning, it was agreed between the sisters that they ought to return to Longbourn. The note they sent to their mother, however, was returned with a refusal, for the carriage could not be had until Tuesday at least. The Bingleys, when applied to for their use of their carriages, were given to many professions of concern; and enough was said of wishing them to stay at least till the following day to work on Jane. Their departure was postponed until the morrow. Miss Bingley was then sorry that she had proposed the delay, for her jealousy and dislike of one sister much exceeded her affection for the other.

Mr. Bingley showed real sorrow when he heard of their going away so soon, and he repeatedly tried to persuade them to stay longer for the sake of Miss Bennet’s health. Jane, however, met his solicitations with polite firmness, and a glance at her sister was enough to confirm their mutual resolve.

For his part, Mr. Darcy was relieved to hear of their going. He was, by then, forced to acknowledge a troubling certainty: he admired Miss Elizabeth far more than he ought. Miss Bingley was uncivil to her, and more teasing than usual to himself. He resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration should now escape him, for he already suspected the lady knew of his inclination. Despite such a determination, he could not remain steady to his purpose and found himself debating the merits of a particular poet for more than a half hour that afternoon.

On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable to almost all, took place. Miss Bingley’s civility to Elizabeth increased at last very rapidly, as well as her affection for Jane; and when they parted, after assuring the latter of the pleasure it would always give her to see her either at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most tenderly, she even shook hands with the former. Elizabeth took leave of the whole party in the liveliest of spirits.

They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother. Mrs. Bennet wondered at their coming, and thought them very wrong to give so much trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught cold again.

But their father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see them. He had felt their importance in the family circle. The evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its animation, and almost all its sense by the absence of Jane and Elizabeth. If it were not for Mrs. Ellington, he claimed, he would have gone mad.

“Where is Mary?” asked Jane of the rest of the family, for she was yet the only one she had not seen.

“She is with the Lucases,” said Lydia with a sniff.

“Your sister is cross because Mary has been spending a great deal of time visiting the parish poor and studying philosophy with the Lucases,” explained Mrs. Ellington, who was glad to see her young cousins again. “Miss Maria Lucas is not always at her disposal, you see, and she finds Miss Rebecca Lucas too dull.”

“Maria does not even like the philosophy part, but Mary and Mr. Lucas drag her along when they require a third. I am sure she finds it all very dull,” Lydia complained. “And Rebecca is dull, for she wishes to do nothing but paint the day long.”

“And tomorrow Longbourn shall be dull as well, for Mr. Collins is to visit,” added Kitty.

“Mr. Collins?” Elizabeth had not heard of his visit, but the name was a familiar one.

“Your father’s heir,” said Mrs. Bennet, “who may throw all of us out of this house as soon as he chooses when your father dies.”

“Mrs. Bennet,” said Mrs. Ellington softly, “you have read his letter, just as I did. It did not sound as if the man was planning to oust you from this house, rather the opposite. He means to make amends. In what manner, I cannot imagine, but it does speak well of him.”

Unable to withhold her curiosity, Elizabeth was glad when her father supplied the letter Mr. Collins had sent.

Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent,

15th October.

Dear Sir,