Chapter 50
Instruction
The Gardiners noticed that the gentleman and their niece were diverging from politeness and wished to move the conversation along. Her uncle cleared his throat, which recalled them to themselves.
Darcy said, “As I said earlier, Mr and Mrs Gardiner, you are a most welcome sight, as always.”
Gardiner chuckled. “Perhaps, but I noticed you expressed your sentiments in Spanish, which most of us do not speak. Lizzy, might you translate?”
Elizabeth glanced from Mr Darcy to her relatives and the Bingleys.
“I shall be happy to do so in a moment, but I find myself on the horns of a dilemma. I have several topics, and I do not know where to start.”
“Can you be more specific? I am certain you have a list,” Darcy asked with a smile.
“Of course! The conversation requires courtesies, interpretation, overdue courtesies, and instruction. I am not certain where to start.”
Darcy noticed the playfulness of her response and enjoyed it immensely. It was certainly an improvement over the tension, uncertainty, and misunderstandings of their previous meetings.
“Perhaps we can toss a coin and use the result to bifurcate the list. We would repeat until only one item remained and proceed. With 4 items, that list would only require 2 tosses for the first task.”
“Or we could throw dice.”
“Pull items out of a hat.”
“Go into the forest and read scat.”
“I am certain Mrs Reynolds has some tea leaves.”
Darcy and Elizabeth chuckled with the Gardiners, who had contributed half the suggestions. Even Bingley appeared ready to join in.
Darcy said, “Perhaps I may borrow a leaf from your usual procedure, Miss Bennet, and attack the problem systematically. A careful analysis of requirements and prerequisites might yield a better sequence than random sequencing.”
“How so?”
Almost everyone but the two principals gave up in confusion.
“Would you agree that proper courtesy requires adherence to the usual rules of politeness?”
“That seems sensible.”
“And would you also agree that it is typically best to pay old debts before contracting new ones?”
Gardiner smiled over the confusion almost as much as Darcy did. “A sound principle in business, sir. I see no reason it should not be applied universally.”
“Exactly! And I should say that, unless some compelling emergency intervenes, it is best to pay the courtesies before substantive conversation. It helps to secure an even footing, and if you do not begin with the courtesies, there is never a good time to start.”
Elizabeth laughed lightly. “By that reasoning, the proper sequence should be instruction, overdue courtesy, current courtesy, and finally interpretation.”
“Very sensible, though my more reckless self shall mourn the loss of the tea leaves.”
“But not the scat?”
Both laughed openly, unworried about what the Bingleys thought of their discourse, insomuch as they thought of them at all.
“Would you allow me to handle the instructions?”
“Of course; it is your house—your drive, anyway.”
It was unusual to carry on such a conversation in the drive, but the tableau suited such an odd exchange, and nobody seemed inclined to move. To Elizabeth, of course, it would not even count among the odder half of the past year’s conversations, nor even of the last quarter.
“Very well,” said Darcy, “let us begin. Some in this party have not met the standards of common courtesy. Miss Bennet is far too polite to complain, but all of you know that I am not bound by any such impediments.”
Both Gardiners chuckled; the Bingleys stared in confusion.
“Proper courtesy requires the proper form of address. Whatever language you speak, it has conventions that should be followed. Bingley!” he snapped.
He turned his attention to his friend, who had been trying unsuccessfully to follow.
“You have twice referred to Miss Bennet as Miss Elizabeth. She is Miss Bennet. Without her elder sister in the same company, she would have been Miss Bennet regardless, but things are simpler now. There is no elder Miss Bennet, as she has surrendered the name in favour of Mrs Jameson. This young lady will remain Miss Bennet until she surrenders the name to Miss Catherine.”
Miss Bingley smirked and sighed, as if relieved that the entirely unsuitable Miss Jane Bennet was now forever out of reach for her knuckleheaded brother.
Bingley looked startled, but his natural amiability soon took hold. “My apologies, Miss Bennet. Old habits die hard, and I hope I have not offended. Might you convey my sincerest congratulations to Mrs Jameson?”
Elizabeth decided not to point out that addressing her as Miss Elizabeth was hardly the worst of his offences; graciousness was the order of the day.
“I shall be happy to. I am certain she will appreciate the sentiment appropriately.”
Bingley looked confused by the answer, but sorting out the meaning of appropriately was his problem. It seemed unlikely he would arrive at the obvious conclusion that appropriately meant not at all.
Darcy continued, “In the same vein, Miss Bingley—”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrow but said nothing, while the Gardiners looked on curiously.
“I did not object to discourtesy in Netherfield, partly because it was not my house, and partly, as Miss Bennet well knows, I practised discourtesy myself until I was nearly a master. Yet here and now, in my home, I have been made aware of my shortcomings and strive to correct them. I owe a debt to the person who taught me that my pride was not under good regulation, so I shall try to repay it by giving you the benefit of the same counsel.”
The lady stared in confusion and horror; which emotion predominated was unclear.
“Even while there was another Miss Bennet present, her title was Miss Elizabeth, absent explicit permission to use a nickname. She was never Miss Eliza, Miss Lizzy, or any other diminutive for any but the closest of friends—which, I can say with assurance, was an honour for which nobody residing at Netherfield qualified.”
By that point, the woman stared in abject horror, while Darcy ignored her. He might as well have beaten her with his metaphorical stick, though he looked as if a nasty duty were complete, and he need think on it no longer.
Miss Bingley’s response was fascinating, much like a praying mantis should Elizabeth ever manage to see one. She eventually had the wisdom to pretend compliance. “I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. I meant no harm.”
The transparency of the lie was almost insulting, since Miss Bingley obviously assumed Elizabeth was either as stupid as she was, or at least would not say anything discourteous.
At least in that respect, she was correct.
Elizabeth had no intention of saying anything discourteous to the woman.
She had Mr Darcy to take care of that sort of thing.
“I accept your apology, Miss Bingley. I believe that concludes the instructional phase of the discussion, Mr Darcy?”
“I believe so.”
“I suppose it is time to proceed.”