Chapter 22
Several days passed after the visit to Pemberley. Though Mrs Cooper attempted more than once to speak with Elizabeth of the visit and of Mr Darcy, it proved impossible. With gentleness, but firmness, she refused either to answer questions about Mr Darcy or continue any conversation concerning him.
One morning, Mrs Cooper entered the classroom to find the familiar sight of that hour: the children seated seriously upon a little bench, listening to Elizabeth.
“My dear, we must discuss something,” said Mrs Cooper, and immediately the voices of both children rose almost plaintively.
“Please, Mama, let Miss Bennet finish the story.”
Mrs Cooper smiled. She held a letter in her hand, which Elizabeth had already noticed, and seated beside her children to listen as well.
“The story is about Zeus, lord of the sky and thunder, who dwelt upon Mount Olympus high above the clouds.
“Though powerful, Zeus did not spend all his days casting lightning or settling quarrels among the gods. Sometimes he wandered quietly through the world disguised as an ordinary traveller, wishing to discover how men treated one another when no reward was expected.
One cold evening, Zeus descended from Olympus, wrapped in a worn grey cloak. Heavy rain fell over the little mountain villages of Greece, while the wind swept fiercely through the narrow paths. At last, he approached a grand house and knocked upon its door.”
“A wealthy man opened it only a little.
‘Pray,’ said Zeus in the voice of an aged traveller, ‘might I warm myself for a short while beside your fire?’
“The man frowned at the stranger’s wet garments.
‘There is no room,’ he replied, though behind him the house was full of light and laughter. He shut the door immediately.
“Zeus went next to another house, then another, but each time he was turned away.
“At last, near the edge of the village, he saw a small cottage with smoke rising from its chimney. There lived an elderly couple, poor but cheerful. When they opened the door and saw the traveller drenched by rain, they welcomed him immediately.
‘You must be cold,’ said the old woman. ‘Come in quickly.’
“They placed their only chair beside the fire and shared with him their simple supper of bread, olives, and goat’s cheese. Though they possessed very little, they offered it gladly.
“As the evening passed, the old couple observed something strange. No matter how much wine they poured into the traveller’s cup, it never emptied.
“The husband stared in astonishment.
‘Who are you?’ he whispered.
‘I am Zeus,’ he answered in a kind voice, not to frighten them. ‘You welcomed a stranger when others would not. Your kindness honours both gods and men. Your generosity will be rewarded, your house shall always know warmth, and your table shall never be empty.’”
Elizabeth paused and looked towards the children.
“What do you suppose happened to those who had turned him away?”
“He punished them,” cried the little boy decisively. “He took away their riches.”
“He scolded them,” whispered the little girl.
Elizabeth said nothing.
“Well,” smiled Mrs Cooper, “tell us what he did to them.”
“Zeus taught them a lesson, and because he was a god, those people were obliged to learn that greatness is measured not by wealth or power, but by kindness offered generously.”
“An interesting story,” said Mrs Cooper with a smile, as they sat down before tea in the drawing room. “You may tell it at Pemberley as well.
“What letter had you in your hand?” asked Elizabeth curiously.
Mrs Cooper handed it to her, and suddenly Elizabeth’s heart gave a dangerous leap when she recognised the writing.
“Mr Darcy accepts your invitation to dine,” she said after reading the letter.
“Yes, it is an honour.”
“Let us not call it an honour, but rather an opportunity to increase your influence in Derby,” said Elizabeth with great warmth in her smile.
Though social advancement left her personally indifferent, she understood Mrs Cooper’s wishes, and the elegance and honesty with which she pursued such things entirely separated her in Elizabeth’s mind from women such as the Miss Bingleys.
On innumerable occasions, she had observed her conduct towards those around her, and her kindness and empathy did her great credit.
“Precisely. Others will come as well—Lady Fletcher and Sir Andrew—”
“The colonel,” said Elizabeth without intention, but she observed with surprise a slight blush upon Mrs Cooper’s face, which immediately set her thinking.
“And Miss Darcy; we must not forget her,” added Mrs Cooper hurriedly.
Elizabeth nodded, though she made no remark.
“What news have you from home?” asked Mrs Cooper, and Elizabeth felt that she was elegantly attempting to change the subject. Could it truly be possible that some spark had arisen between her friend and the amiable colonel? But she immediately turned her thoughts towards the news from Meryton.
“They have still not found a house. That is the great difficulty. At first, I believed I should not care where Mama settled, but now…since being here, I understand that in order to remain within your circle, one must do certain things.”
“Then you no longer consider me frivolous for wishing to belong to another circle?”
“No, not now. In the same way, I finally understand that Mama must rent a house on a main street to continue to matter. I do not agree with it, but I understand why such demands must be followed.”
“You will understand these matters far better once you are married,” said Mrs Cooper, watching her closely, but Elizabeth returned her look with remarkable serenity.
“I liked Pemberley, that is the truth. In general, I have altered my opinion of Mr Darcy or rather, not altered it, but completed it. It is natural to observe a man’s good qualities as well, instead of dwelling only upon his faults.
“Mama is desperate, I know. Jane conveys it constantly without meaning to. She makes little allusions. Mary is more direct and tells me plainly that their life is difficult, exceedingly difficult. The sorrow of losing Longbourn, which distance softens for me, still possesses them deeply. Even Papa…sometimes I forget, and because I am here, I still imagine I may find him at home. But they, poor creatures.”
“Why do they not go to London?”
“Mama will not leave, precisely because her departure would appear a complete defeat.”
“But the girls? Why do they not come here?” And there was such sincerity in her voice that Elizabeth truly believed she would receive her sisters with pleasure.
“Jane does not wish it. I think she will eventually go to London once Mama has found a house. Mary is surprisingly devoted to Mama. But Kitty…I do not know. Might she come?”
Instead of replying, Mrs Cooper seated herself at her writing table to write an invitation to Kitty to come to Derby, beneath Elizabeth’s grateful gaze.