Page 45 of An Accidental Meeting
It was a Greek myth, of course, and a rather famous one, but perhaps it was not approved reading for a ladies’ seminary such as the Bingley sisters had attended.
“I always thought Midas a monstrous fool,” Mr. Bingley said firmly, sending a warning glance at Mrs. Hurst and saving Miss Bingley the trouble of attempting to prove she knew the story. “He already had so much—to have the opportunity to ask for anything and to waste it with wanting more is to entirely miss the blessing of wealth.”
“And what is that, Mr. Bingley?” Uncle Gardiner asked challengingly.
Mr. Bingley glanced at Mr. Hurst before speaking. “Security. The ability to take care of yourself, those you love, and whenever possible, those who have not been as fortunate. A man who loses himself in the pursuit of wealth without a plan for its wise use is the veriest of fools, for he shall end his days alone and unloved.”
“A wealthy man always has friends,” Mr. Hurst responded.
“If he is only wealthy in coin,” Mr. Bingley said stoutly, “he has leeches, not friends.”
“Well said, young man!” Judge Darcy cried, lifting his wineglass in salute.
“At least Midas learned his lesson, in the end,” Aunt Gardiner said.
“But he did not,” Elizabeth replied. “Have you read the second part of the tale, Aunt Gardiner?”
“No, what is the story?”
“King Midas turns away from gold, but instead begins to worship Pan, the god of nature,” Elizabeth said. “And he is just as obsessed.”
“The king is asked to judge a contest between Apollo and Pan,” Mr. Darcy said.
“A flute contest,” Elizabeth interjected. “Which Apollo clearly won.”
“Appropriate, as we were just speaking of music,” Aunt Nora remarked.
“Just so,” Mr. Darcy said, looking first at his aunt, and then returning his gaze to Elizabeth. “But Midas insisted, against all evidence, that Pan’s flute playing was superior.”
“He was stubborn,” Elizabeth agreed.
“He was stupid,” Mr. Darcy said to her alone, and Elizabeth suspected he was not speaking only of Midas.
“And Apollo punished him for it,” Elizabeth said, meeting Mr. Darcy’s gaze.
“What happened?” Miss Darcy inquired breathlessly, breaking the moment between them.
Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Darcy, whose cheeks flushed. “He gave Midas donkey ears.”
“Like inA Midsummer Night’s Dream?” Miss Darcy inquired.
“Precisely. It may be how Shakespeare thought of the idea,” Mr. Darcy said.
Elizabeth waited for him to complete the story, which ended with the grasses in the field whispering “Midas has the ears of an ass.” He met her inquiring expression and turned his attention to the rest of the party.
“Perhaps this is enough of Midas,” he said, and Elizabeth stifled a laugh.
“I still think being able to touch something and turn it to gold would be a handy skill,” Mr. Hurst proclaimed as the servants came in to serve the second course.
“Not all that glisters is gold,” Uncle Gardiner said.
“What is that?” Mr. Hurst asked.
“The Merchant of Venice,” Elizabeth added. “Not my favourite of Shakespeare’s, but the sentiment is a good one.”
Darcy smiled at her. “You are one to look beneath the surface, are you?”
“Not so often as I ought,” she replied. “But I am learning.”
