Page 41 of Eavesdroppers Never Hear
Elizabeth was not surprised that Mary elected to practise in peace and quiet (and away from Mr Collins), nor was she astonished that her father was more than happy to make his problem into her problem (where ‘her’ was any female member of his family).
In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton. The attention of the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by him. Their eyes were immediately wandering up in the street in quest of the officers, and nothing less than a very smart bonnet indeed, or a really new muslin in a shop window, could recall them.
Lizzy had long since stopped listening to the clergyman, but Jane made a stalwart effort to pay some attention. Mr Collins had apparently either forgotten Elizabeth’s strictures on over-speaking entirely or had not really been listening. That lady was only happy that she was at least safe from the man’s attentions. He did seem somewhat dense, so it was entirely possible he might fixate on Jane or Mary—but she thought the clergyman’s chance of success was minimal at best.
The attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking with another officer on the other side of the way. The younger Bennet sisters managed to get an introduction to the young man on some weak pretext, but Elizabeth did not make too much of a fuss, since she was mildly curious herself. The young man was a new recruit—a friend of Mr Denny, who she knew slightly. Lydia and Kitty were ecstatic to learn theman was to join the corps, for the young man wanted only regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address.
For her part, Elizabeth found the man interesting enough—just barely. He was indeed handsome, as could be presumed from Lydia making moon eyes at him—but he was certainly no more handsome than Mr Darcy. He had ready and unassuming manners and pleasing address—though none were superior to the post-apology Darcy. He seemed a little on the old side to be just joining the militia, as he seemed within a year or two of Mr Darcy. He was deft with a compliment or a kind word—perhaps just a little too deft. Mr Collins had asserted the previous evening that he liked to give his practised compliments as unstudied an air as possible. Mr Collins obviously failed in the endeavour where Mr Wickham succeeded. Elizabeth had no idea why she was certain of that, but she was. Perhaps it was the practised smoothness of his address where she was becoming accustomed to the awkward bluntness of Mr Darcy.
With a start, Elizabeth realised she was measuring the man against her beau. Whether that was fair or not was neither here nor there. Neither was the fact that in every measure, Mr Wickham came up short. Whatwasstartling was the dawning realisation that she would probably be measuringallnew male acquaintances against Mr Darcy for some time. She had no idea what it meant—but it was interesting.
She noticed that as time went on, Mr Wickham paid her increasing attention, regardless of how much her sisters strove for it while Elizabeth tried her best to dissuade him. It made no sense, since she could barely be bothered to be civil to the man with her head being full of comparisons to another. It made even less sense (unless he was blind) with Jane standing close, though one could argue that he was simply put off byMr Collins’s hopeless attentions. She wondered at the man’s apparent interest, but like everything else about him, it could not capture any more of her attention than required for politeness.
~~~~~
The soldiers escorted the ladies to their Aunt Philips house, and just before entering, Elizabeth cautioned her two youngest sisters in a whisper, “Remember… not a word to a living soul.”
They both just laughed as if her cautioning then for the second time in an hour was the silliest thing she had ever done, but she was not to be put off.
Mrs Philips was the maternal aunt that the Netherfield ‘ladies’ had taken so much exception to (one of them, at least). As the sister of Mrs Bennet, she had married directly into her sphere, and presided over the house she was born in. She married her father’s articled clerk who had taken over his practise. They had no children, so she spent whatever maternal affection she felt from time to time on her nieces, since she had a decided lack of offspring while her sister had a surplus.
Mrs Bennet’s other brother, who came up for censure in the same conversation, was a particularly successful tradesman who lived in Cheapside. Aside from Jane’s assertion that her ‘tradesman uncle would not allow such speech among his sailors and longshoremen at his warehouses, let alone in his home;’ Elizabeth had not discussed the Gardiners with her beau. They had hardly had time since their entire courtship to date consisted of a couple hours of conversation. That said, it was a subject she was anxious to explore and put to rest. She would give up Mr Darcy before the Gardiners; but she thought she understood his character well enough to remain unconcerned. If he were about to object to her relations, he would not be courting her in the first place. She strongly suspected she and her aunt thirty years hence would often find themselves interrupting adiscussion of fishing to drag two fat old men away from the dinner-table.
Upon introduction, Mrs Philips let slip that she had been watching the men walk up and down the street, and she readily agreed with her younger nieces that the officers, in comparison with the stranger, were become ‘stupid, disagreeable fellows.’
Mrs Philips planned a small gathering with lottery tickets and hot supper the following day, but Lydia and Kitty begged her to strike while the iron was hot. Three officers were present along with the Bennets and Mr Collins. Elizabeth did not oppose the scheme, since Mr Darcy was not available that day but might be for an hour or two on Wednesday. If they advanced the gathering by a day, she would have a chance to meet with him on more intimate terms before their courtship became public knowledge. In the back of her mind, Elizabeth resisted the voice telling her that the day was wasted without speaking to her beau, so she may as well go to her aunt’s as not just for something to do.
The ladies spent an hour having tea while Mrs Philips sent a couple of boys out with messages and arranged the gathering that very evening. The militia officers had a flexible schedule, and they would do anything for a decent meal. Given a choice of barracks food with smelly men, or ladies and an elegant dinner, the decision was not difficult.
With a couple of hours before the gathering, the sisters returned to Longbourn to change, rest a bit, and return in the carriage.
With the rushed supper arranged, the party left in good cheer with Kitty and Lydia running ahead with spirits inexhaustible over all the pleasures of seeing the officers and Mr Wickham a day earlier than expected. Elizabeth let them rattle on, thinking it was often best to just let children burn their high spirits off. She wondered how she might manage her own children, and ifsaid children might be more imminent than she has previously suspected.
She still did notknowexactly what to think about Mr Darcy. She and Jane had always believed they would only marry for the deepest love… or at least deep affection and respect. She had no idea if she would come to love Mr Darcy in time or not. He was obviously taking up firm residence in her head, so it seemed more likely than before.
The process was not as she envisioned. She had always believed love would grow from seeds of affection planted early and nurtured carefully. It all seemed so simple: coincidence led to meeting, attraction led to acquaintance, then affection, understanding, comfort, and love in an orderly progression. Of course, not being stupid, she knew that in the actual world, matrimony was often a matter of fortune, connexions, and situation, with love hardly a factor—but one could always hope.
Such thoughts occupied the rest of the afternoon until the sisters, along with Mr Collins, stuffed themselves into the Longbourn coach for the short trip to Meryton for the engagement.
Elizabeth thought she would have been just as happy staying home, but it mostly took the combined efforts of her, Jane, and Mary to keep the two youngest sisters somewhat in line. Some things never changed.
19.Gathering
Much to her surprise, Elizabeth found the bustle of her aunt’s house disconcerting. She had always been a social creature, so feeling shy was unusual to say the least. She could not say precisely why she found it so. She wondered if it was the burden of carrying the secret of her courtship (let alone her potential engagement) or perhaps it was simply that she had a lot on her mind and was not in a mood for idle chatter. Either way, she was a guest, and as such, she would do her duty—but would rather have passed on the opportunity.
The first hour was spent speaking to several ladies (and not a few gentlemen), who were burning with curiosity about the events of the previous week. It was impossible to keep secret their escape from Netherfield, the defection of the Bingleys, Mr Darcy’s extraordinary apology, and Elizabeth’s introductions.
The questions were on everybody’s tongues. What happened at Netherfield? Why did Mr Darcy make such a generous gesture? Why exactly had Elizabeth introduced him after he so so egregiously slighted her at the assembly? Did he really call on Longbourn not once, but twice? Why was he absent? What about Mr Collins? What was his story? Was he eligible? Available? Amiable? Solvent?
Elizabeth found the whole thing exhausting, but it was easy enough to make deflecting answers to their queries that satisfied none but could not be refuted: They left Netherfield because Jane was not as sick as first believed—simple, really. They rode and walked because it was a lovely day. Mr Darcy apologised, because he realised that he made a bad first impression, and when he became aware of it, he acted as a gentleman ought. Elizabeth introduced him because it was her duty as a lady. Mr Darcy was, to the best of her knowledge, fox hunting that day… and why would they suppose he would be present at ahastily arranged card party anyway? Mr Collins was the heir presumptive to Longbourn and had a good living in Kent. He appeared eligible, but it would be best to discuss such matters with the man himself.
On and on the questions and answers went until she felt like she had beat the subjects of both gentlemen to death ten times over. None of the answers were comprehensive, but they were sufficient to assuage the curiosity of her audience for a time.
She finally got some relief with the introduction of the officers, whose duties had only recently ended. Aside from his extraordinary apology, Mr Darcy had made surprisingly little impression on the people in the room, so they were happy to let their curiosity lapse. On top of that, Mr Darcy was absent while the officers were present. The younger and sillier ladies of the room were fully enamoured with them, while some mothers shared their enthusiasm. Regardless of their marital prospects, the soldiers were acknowledged as jolly good entertainment, as Sir William observed.
Like a fresh breeze blowing in and clearing out a smoky room, all thoughts of Mr Darcy and Mr Collins were abandoned in favour of the new acquaintances. Aunt Philips had outdone herself by inviting a half-dozen along with Colonel Forster—all welcome.
Elizabeth felt relieved at finishing that part of the evening. A quick glance at Jane and Mary showed they joined her.
