Chapter 7

by Jane Austen

　　Mr. Bennet's property consisted almost entirely in an estate oftwo thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, wasentailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and theirmother's fortune, though ample for her situation in life, couldbut ill supply the deficiency of his. Her father had been anattorney in Meryton, and had left her four thousand pounds.She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a clerkto their father and succeeded him in the business, and a brothersettled in London in a respectable line of trade.The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; amost convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usuallytempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty totheir aunt and to a milliner's shop just over the way. The twoyoungest of the family, Catherine and Lydia, were particularlyfrequent in these attentions; their minds were more vacant thantheir sisters', and when nothing better offered, a walk toMeryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours andfurnish conversation for the evening; and however bare of newsthe country in general might be, they always contrived to learnsome from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were wellsupplied both with news and happiness by the recent arrival ofa militia regiment in the neighbourhood; it was to remain thewhole winter, and Meryton was the headquarters.Their visits to Mrs. Phillips were now productive of the mostinteresting intelligence. Every day added something to theirknowledge of the officers' names and connections. Theirlodgings were not long a secret, and at length they began toknow the officers themselves. Mr. Phillips visited them all, andthis opened to his nieces a store of felicity unknown before.They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. Bingley's largefortune, the mention of which gave animation to their mother,was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals ofan ensign.After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr.Bennet coolly observed:"From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you mustbe two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected itsome time, but I am now convinced."Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia,with perfect indifference, continued to express her admiration ofCaptain Carter, and her hope of seeing him in the course of theday, as he was going the next morning to London."I am astonished, my dear," said Mrs. Bennet, "that you shouldbe so ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to thinkslightingly of anybody's children, it should not be of my own,however.""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, I flatter myself, on which we do notagree. I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in everyparticular, but I must so far differ from you as to think our twoyoungest daughters uncommonly foolish.""My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to havethe sense of their father and mother. When they get to our age, Idare say they will not think about officers any more than we do.I remember the time when I liked a red coat myself very well--and, indeed, so I do still at my heart; and if a smart youngcolonel, with five or six thousand a year, should want one of mygirls I shall not say nay to him; and I thought Colonel Forsterlooked very becoming the other night at Sir William's in hisregimentals.""Mamma," cried Lydia, "my aunt says that Colonel Forster andCaptain Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson's as they didwhen they first came; she sees them now very often standing inClarke's library."Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of thefootman with a note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield,and the servant waited for an answer. Mrs. Bennet's eyessparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, whileher daughter read:"Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does hesay? 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 compassionate as to dine to-day withLouisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other forthe rest of our lives, for a whole day's tete-a-tete between twowomen can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as youcan on receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dinewith the officers.-- Yours ever,"Caroline Bingley""With the officers!" cried Lydia. "I wonder my aunt did not tellus 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, because it seemslikely to rain; and then you must stay all night.""That would be a good scheme," said Elizabeth, "if you weresure that they would not offer to send her home.""Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go toMeryton, 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 to-day," said Elizabeth, "my mother'spurpose will be answered."She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment thatthe horses were engaged; Jane was therefore obliged to go onhorseback, and her mother attended her to the door with manycheerful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were answered;Jane had not been gone long before it rained hard. Her sisterswere uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The raincontinued the whole evening without intermission; Jane certainlycould not some back."This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!" said Mrs. Bennet morethan once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Tillthe next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicityof her contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servantfrom Netherfield brought the following note for Elizabeth:"My Dearest Lizzy,--"I find myself very unwell this morning, which, Isuppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday.My kind friends will not hear of my returning till I am better.They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones-- therefore do not bealarmed if you should hear of his having been to me-- and,excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much thematter with me.-- Yours, etc.""Well, my dear," said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read thenote aloud, "if your daughter should have a dangerous fit ofillness-- if she should die, it would be a comfort to know that itwas all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.""Oh! I am not afraid of her dying. People do not die of littletrifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as shestays there, it is all very well. I would go an see her if I couldhave the carriage."Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to her,though the carriage was not to be had; and as she was nohorsewoman, walking was her only alternative. She declared herresolution."How can you be so silly," cried her mother, "as to think of sucha thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when youget there.""I shall be very fit to see Jane-- which is all I want.""Is this a hint to me, Lizzy," said her father, "to send for the horses?""No, indeed, I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance isnothing when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be backby dinner.""I admire the activity of your benevolence," observed Mary, "butevery impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in myopinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what isrequired.""We will go as far as Meryton with you," said Catherine andLydia. Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three youngladies set off together."If we make haste," said Lydia, as they walked along, "perhapswe may see something of Captain Carter before he goes.""In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to thelodgings of one of the officers' wives, and Elizabeth continuedher walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumpingover stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity,and finding herself at last within view of the house, with wearyankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth ofexercise.She was shown into the breakfast-parlour, where all but Janewere assembled, and where her appearance created a great dealof surprise. That she should have walked three miles so early inthe day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almostincredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and Elizabeth wasconvinced that they held her in contempt for it. She wasreceived, however, very politely by them; and in their brother'smanners there was something better than politeness; there wasgood humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr.Hurst nothing at all. The former was divided betweenadmiration of the brilliancy which exercise had given to hercomplexion, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her comingso far alone. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast.Her inquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered.Miss Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, andnot well enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to betaken to her immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheldby the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience from expressing inher note how much she longed for such a visit, was delighted ather entrance. She was not equal, however, to muchconversation, and when Miss Bingley left them together, couldattempt little besides expressions of gratitude for theextraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silentlyattended her.When breakfast was over they were joined by the sisters; andElizabeth began to like them herself, when she saw how muchaffection and solicitude they showed for Jane. The apothecarycame, and having examined his patient, said, as might besupposed, that she had caught a violent cold, and that they mustendeavour to get the better of it; advised her to return to bed,and promised her some draughts. The advice was followedreadily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head achedacutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment; nor werethe other ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had,in fact, nothing to do elsewhere.When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, andvery unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage,and she only wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Janetestified such concern in parting with her, that Miss Bingley wasobliged to convert the offer of the chaise to an invitation toremain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfullyconsented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn toacquaint the family with her stay and bring back a supply ofclothes.