Chapter 7

Mr. Bennet's property was almost entirely an estate that brought in two thousand a year. This was unlucky for his daughters. If there was no son, the estate was to pass to a distant relation. Mrs. Bennet's own fortune was ample for her situation in life. But it fell far short of making up what her husband's lacked. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton. He had left her four thousand pounds.

Mrs. Bennet had a sister married to a Mr. Philips. He had been a clerk to their father and had taken over the business from him. She also had a brother settled in London in a respectable line of trade.

The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton. For the young ladies no distance could have been better. They went there three or four times a week. They wished to pay their duty to their aunt, and to visit a milliner's shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family, Kitty and Lydia, were the most frequent of all. Their minds were more vacant than their sisters'. When nothing better offered, a walk to Meryton was needed to amuse their morning and to furnish talk for the evening. The country might have almost no news at all, but the two of them always managed to get some from their aunt. At present a militia regiment had lately arrived in the neighbourhood. News and happiness were in plenty. The regiment was to stay the whole winter, and Meryton was the head-quarters.

Now every visit to Mrs. Philips brought the most interesting news. Every day added something to what they knew of the officers' names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret. At last they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Philips had called on them all. A source of happiness unknown before was opened to his nieces. The two girls could talk of nothing but officers. Mr. Bingley's large fortune gave their mother great animation at the mere mention of it. But in their eyes it was worth less than the red coat of an ensign.

One morning Mr. Bennet listened to his two daughters pouring out this subject, and observed coolly.

"From all that I can gather from the way you talk, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it for some time, but now I am sure of it."

Kitty was embarrassed and made no answer. But Lydia did not mind it in the least. She went on telling how fine Captain Carter was. He was going to London the next morning, she said, and she hoped to see something of him before the day was over.

"I am astonished, my dear," said Mrs. Bennet. "How can you be so ready to think your own children silly? If I wished to think slightingly of anybody's children, it should not be of my own."

"If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it."

"Yes. But as it happens, they are all of them very clever."

"This is the only point, so far as I know, on which we do not agree. I had hoped that our sentiments agreed in every particular. But I must differ from you so far as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly foolish."

"My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of their father and mother. When they get to our age, I dare say they will not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I liked a red coat very well myself. Indeed I like one still, in my heart. If a smart young colonel with five or six thousand a year should want one of my girls, I shall not say no to him. And I thought Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William Lucas's in his regimentals."

"Mother," cried Lydia. "My aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson's as they did when they first came. She sees them now very often standing in Clarke's library."

Mrs. Bennet was about to reply when the footman came in with a note for Miss Bennet. He waited for an answer. It came from Netherfield. Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she called out eagerly while her daughter read.

"Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, Jane, make haste and tell us. Make haste, my love."

"It is from Miss Bingley," said Jane, and then read it aloud.

"My dear friend,

If you are not so kind as to come and dine today with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives. A whole day's talk between two women alone can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can after you get this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers. Yours ever,

Caroline Bingley."

"With the officers!" cried Lydia. "I wonder my aunt did not tell us of that."

"Dining out," said Mrs. Bennet. "That is very unlucky."

"Can I have the carriage?" said Jane.

"No, my dear. You had better go on horseback. It seems likely to rain, and then you must stay all night."

"That would be a good scheme," said Elizabeth, "if you were sure that they would not offer to send her home."

"Oh, but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to Meryton, and the Hursts have no horses to theirs."

"I had much rather go in the coach."

"But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are they not?"

"They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them."

"But if you have got them today," said Elizabeth, "my mother's purpose will be answered."

Mrs. Bennet did at last press her husband. She got from him the answer that the horses were engaged. Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback. Her mother went with her to the door with many cheerful forecasts of a bad day. Her hopes were answered. Jane had not been gone long before it rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The rain went on the whole evening without stopping. Jane certainly could not come back.

"This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!" said Mrs. Bennet more than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next morning, however, she did not know all the happiness of her scheme. 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. I suppose it is to be laid to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends here will not hear of my returning home till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones, so do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me. Apart from a sore throat and a headache, there is not much the matter with me.

Your sister, always by you."

"Well, my dear," said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note aloud. "If your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness, or 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 at all 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 was really anxious. She was determined to go to her sister, though the carriage was not to be had. She was no horsewoman, so walking was her only choice. She declared what she meant to do.

"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. That is all I want."

"Lizzy," said her father, "is this a hint to me to send for the horses?"

"No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing when one has a motive. It is only three miles. I shall be back by dinner."

"I admire the activity of your goodness," observed Mary, "but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason. And in my opinion, effort should always be in proportion to what is required."

"We will go as far as Meryton with you," said Kitty 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 went to the lodgings of one of the officers' wives. Elizabeth walked on alone. She crossed field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles, with impatient activity. At last she found herself 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. 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 past belief to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. Elizabeth was sure that they held her in contempt for it. Yet she was received by them very politely. 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. Darcy admired the brightness which exercise had given to her face. Yet he doubted whether the occasion justified her coming so far alone. Mr. Hurst was thinking only of his breakfast.

She asked after her sister and did not get a good answer. Miss Bennet had slept badly. She was up, but she had a high fever, and she was not well enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her at once. Jane had been afraid of alarming them or of being a trouble. So she had not written in her note how much she wished for her sister to come. She was very glad when Elizabeth came in. But she had no strength for much talk. When Miss Bingley left the two of them alone, Jane could say little beyond thanks for the great kindness they had shown her. Elizabeth waited on her in silence.

When breakfast was over, the two sisters of Netherfield came into the room. They showed such deep affection and concern for Jane that Elizabeth began to like them. The apothecary came. He looked at his patient and said that she had caught a bad cold and must fight it well. He advised her to go back to bed and promised to send her some draughts. The fever grew worse and her head ached badly, so the advice was gladly taken. Elizabeth did not leave her sister's room for a moment. The other ladies were not away for long either. The gentlemen were out, and in truth they had nothing else to do.

When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and said so very unwillingly. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage. Elizabeth needed only a little more pressing to accept it. But Jane was so troubled at parting with her sister that Miss Bingley had to change the offer of the carriage into an invitation to stay at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth accepted it with great thanks. A servant was then sent to Longbourn to let the family know that she was staying and to bring back a supply of clothes.