A Lady’s Accomplishments
A Lady’s Accomplishments
Jane was not up to taking dinner, but she was feeling well enough to come down to the parlour afterward for an hour or two.
The meal was a tedious affair, since they decided not to reuse their argument ploy.
They allowed Miss Bingley to have her way in banishing Elizabeth to the hinterlands with Mr Hurst. She did not mind as she thought that she was well into their fortnight before she and Mr Darcy might have to warn Jane and Mr Bingley to be aware of what they were about, so it might be useful to pay slightly less attention to Mr Darcy and more to Mr Bingley and his family. The results were not auspicious.
During dinner and the separation of the sexes, Elizabeth learned that Miss Bingley was an unrepentant social climber who had somehow gotten it into her head that she could attract Mr Darcy’s attention by blathering on about her supposed connections in town, even though she could easily see from the end of the table that the noise was more annoying than attracting.
From her attempts to garner his attention, it seemed likely his status was well above the Bingleys, but that was not exactly news.
After all, a poor man would not have had to pretend to be one to go unnoticed.
It was expected, but Elizabeth wanted to keep the illusion for a time.
Elizabeth somewhat enjoyed the absurdity of the whole thing. She tried her best to converse with Mr Hurst, and it took about half the dinner and a great deal of annoyance to learn he had no interests outside of cards, sport, food, and drink (not necessarily in that order).
Miss Bingley and her sister were equal parts amusing and annoying.
Their powers of conversation were considerable.
They could describe an entertainment with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their acquaintance with spirit.
That said, it was obvious Miss Bingley had set her cap at Mr Darcy, and equally obvious that most of what she considered flirting just annoyed him.
A prime example was that she liked to be late to every event, thinking it fashionable.
Mr Darcy liked to be on time, or even early, so fashionable quickly became annoying.
He had told her earlier that his walk to the assembly had been the first time he took such drastic action.
She heartily approved of him for doing so and was amazed that Miss Bingley did not seem to learn anything from the event.
The conversation at the table and in the drawing room went in fits and starts; Miss Bingley had obviously been urged in strong terms to keep Mr Darcy’s actual status a secret, so it was easy to see her bite her tongue to keep from spilling something about his condition.
She started several times to speak about what may have been his library, or his home, or some such—but a glare from the gentleman stopped the disclosure.
After a brief time in the ladies’ company, Elizabeth went upstairs to escort her sister down.
Mr Bingley corralled Jane at once, and he went out of his way to set her up by the fire, then the two spoke almost exclusively.
She was still looking pale and slightly sickly, but it was clear she was on the mend and could return to the chaos of Longbourn in a day or two.
Elizabeth spent her time on some embroidery, though she doubted she managed more than a dozen stitches.
Mr Darcy worked diligently writing to his sister.
Elizabeth suspected he was inviting her to come for a visit.
Miss Bingley worked diligently on annoying him with suggestions she mend his pen, and so forth.
She opined that it must be odious to write so many letters of business, for which he replied it was fortunate it fell to his lot rather than hers.
Elizabeth was mostly annoyed because it was one of the few ways Miss Bingley could boast about his prowess without revealing what she knew of his status.
With the letter finally complete, Jane and Mr Bingley joined the general discussion, which Elizabeth thought was a good sign. Given what Mr Darcy had said about the man, she hoped he would moderate his attentions to the proper level to keep expectations reasonable.
With the completion of Mr Darcy’s letter, Miss Bingley had her chance to gush over his sister yet again, since a man should be proud of his sister no matter her station in life.
"How I long to see her again!” Miss Bingley enthused. “I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite."
"It is amazing to me," said Bingley, "how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are."
"All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?"
"Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished."
Elizabeth looked to Mr Darcy to see what he thought of that and discovered he was waiting for her to offer her sentiments. She was, however, not willing to enter the fray just yet.
Miss Bingley finally took the bait. “I cannot agree with you Charles. I do not know very many who are really accomplished. In fact, if every lady were accomplished, it would demean the word to the point where it became a synonym for commonplace.”
"Then," observed Elizabeth, "you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman."
"Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it," she replied energetically.
“No one can be really esteemed who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with.
A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved. "
Darcy added, “I cannot offer an opinion on those, but I suspect any truly accomplished lady should add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading."
Elizabeth smiled, since they had discussed that topic and it might, in a prudential light, be construed as a compliment to her—especially given that was certainly not an accomplishment Miss Bingley could boast.
“What think you, Miss Bennet,” Mr Bingley asked.
Jane looked to Lizzy, but she was having none of it and just arched her eyebrow to suggest she fight her own battles.
Jane finally said, “I cannot necessarily agree. I do not think I know a single woman who can boast all those characteristics, nor do I believe that is a good judge anyway.”
“Go on,” Mr Bingley encouraged.
Jane shrugged. “Every woman has talents and skills. The cleverest of us learn those skills that are most appropriate for our natures and expectations. A woman born to a tradesman or shopkeeper must learn different things than a woman born to an estate in the country. To try to measure them against the same yardstick is rather silly.”
Elizabeth liked her thinking. “To reduce all the complexity of a woman’s virtue to a list of skills that anyone could master given time and training is actually a bit degrading, if I am honest. It leaves little room for the complexities of life.
Should a woman inordinately skilled in the stillroom or the sickroom be considered less because she sings poorly?
It makes no sense. If I were sick, I would vastly prefer a good nurse over an excellent pianist.”
Jane said, “I think that we are all more complicated than we appear, and it behooves us to either refrain from judgement, or if we must judge, to ensure we know the entire picture.”
Darcy added, “I can see and applaud your points. The skills necessary for a successful life depend a great deal on your situation.”
“Exactly,” Jane said, and on that thoughtful note, Elizabeth excused them to return Jane to bed.