13. 14 November 1811
DARCY
That evening, after dinner, Miss Elizabeth lingered downstairs.
She had chosen a book from the rather scanty assortment offered in Netherfield’s library and sat in a comfortable chair to read.
Darcy sat at a table to write a letter to his sister, Hurst fell asleep, and Mrs Hurst sat in one spot not doing much of anything—unless fingering her many bracelets was an activity worth mentioning, which Darcy considered not to be the case.
Bingley and Miss Bingley were discussing something, although Darcy paid little heed to their conversation until Miss Bingley asked him a question.
“Excuse me,” he said. “What is it you said?”
“We are speaking of what makes a lady worthy of being called accomplished,” Miss Bingley replied, her tone impatient. “My brother seems to think that all ladies he has ever met warrant the term, but I would say that only a few ladies of the ton truly deserve the compliment. What say you?”
“I am sorry to say, Bingley, that I agree with your sister.”
“And we can all agree, I think, that Mr Darcy is always correct,” Miss Bingley said, glorying in Darcy’s agreement.
Darcy and Elizabeth both laughed. “I am not always correct, Miss Bingley,” Darcy demurred. “Such a perfect record is not possible for anyone.”
Bingley said, “I suppose parents and governesses stress that young ladies must attain accomplishments so that they can gain a husband, and although I deeply admire so many of the things young ladies manage to learn and do, I am not certain how necessary I find that my wife be able to roll tiny strips of paper into depict beautiful scenery, say, or varnish vases so that they may pass for having an Asian origin. Some accomplishments seem less than necessary.”
Elizabeth said, “Mr Darcy, I am curious about which accomplishments you seek in a wife.”
Darcy’s heart began to hammer. What an impertinent question, given their recent conversation in the garden! He quite loved it.
“I…honestly I am unsettled about the characteristics Mrs Darcy should embody. I used to have strong opinions on the topic, but they have undergone a re-evaluation.”
“I feel that I could help elucidate your needs, Mr Darcy,” Miss Bingley suggested.
He turned towards her, shocked at her bold assertion.
A part of him wished to say that it was not possible she could be helpful on such a matter, but another part of him wished to know what she would say.
Was it possible that his needs might be diametrically opposite of everything she might suggest?
“Please share with us your list of necessary accomplishments, Miss Bingley,” Miss Elizabeth politely said.
“While you elucidate,” Darcy said, “I will make a list, and I will call it ‘Characteristics of Mrs Darcy.’” He put aside his partially-written letter, brought out a fresh piece of paper, and wrote the proposed title at the top of the paper. When he showed the ladies, Miss Bingley’s smile grew.
Miss Bingley began to pace back and forth, saying, “It is going to be a long list—but where to begin?”
“Begin anywhere you like,” Mr Darcy said, waiting, his quill poised above the bottle of ink. He turned his head towards Miss Elizabeth and said, “Perhaps, if you sit here next to me, you might better learn of the characteristics the Darcy name, and Pemberley, requires.”
He tried to communicate his intent with just his eyes, and she looked puzzled, reluctant, but also curious. She sat next to him.
Miss Bingley began, “Of course, Mrs Darcy must be elegant…and very refined.”
Darcy wrote, Beautiful, witty, clever, with good general knowledge.
Miss Elizabeth made a tiny sound—not quite a gasp—but then covered for it by saying, “Your handwriting is quite beautiful.”
“Thank you,” he said.
Miss Bingley continued, “The mistress of Pemberley must have studied how to run a household.”
Darcy wrote, Keeping knowledge updated through extensive reading. He could feel Miss Elizabeth’s mirth sort of radiating from her, and he flicked a glance at her, hoping that she was not giving the game away so early. But her face looked quite serene, moderately interested, even respectful.
Darcy wished to smile at the irony that, just as he thought that Miss Elizabeth’s mien was carefully arranged to look respectful, Miss Bingley said, “Mrs Darcy must have respect for the proprieties, respect for the Darcy name—and she certainly must respect Mr Darcy himself.” Miss Bingley nodded towards Darcy, her mouth forming a very practiced smile.
He wrote, Impertinent.
Miss Elizabeth said, “I do so admire how you keep your lines very straight and the slant of each letter is precisely and perfectly lined up with all the other letters.”
“Are you keeping up?” Miss Bingley asked. She said, “I am not sure you wrote all my latest points.”
“Thank you for checking,” Darcy said. “Indeed, I am not yet caught up.” On the next line down, he wrote, Willingness to carry on the Darcy legacy of caring for the land, caring for the people who work the land, and caring for all the servants and even the nearby townspeople.
He paused, moved his hand down to the next line and wrote, Willing to treat servants, tenants, and townspeople with respect.
“You can go on now, Miss Bingley,” he suggested.
She seemed very pleased and said, “All the usual accomplishments: painting tables, netting purses, covering screens, the modern languages, dancing, singing, playing at least one and hopefully two musical instruments—” she broke off to look at Miss Elizabeth and addressed her with the words, “You probably do not realise, Miss Eliza, that I play the harp as well as the pianoforte. At the private seminary where my sister and I were educated, two instruments were the standard.”
Miss Elizabeth bowed her head, hiding a smile, and said, “I did not know. That is very admirable.”
Darcy wrote, Honest, loyal, kind, willing to work hard when necessary.
“And—” Miss Bingley began to go on.
Darcy interrupted. “Just give me a few more moments, Miss Bingley; you listed quite a few accomplishments, just now, crammed together as if they were one item.”
“Forgive me. I was, to be honest, forgetting that it takes so much longer to write than to speak.”
Miss Elizabeth added, “And it takes even longer, perhaps, if one has such beautiful handwriting.”
“Indeed,” Miss Bingley enthused.
Darcy wrote, Must be willing to visit tenants, listen to their concerns, and either act to help them or report needs to someone who can do so. He looked up at Miss Bingley and said, “Do go on, I beseech you.”
Miss Bingley said, “This next bit is hard to describe. I should say that Mrs Darcy must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions.”
“I quite agree,” Darcy said as he wrote, Capable of either riding, walking, or both. On the next two lines, he wrote, Loves nature and being out-of-doors. Hopefully, a habit of smiling more than frowning and a willingness to laugh, even (when appropriate) in public.
Miss Elizabeth laughed her pure, bell-like laugh.
Miss Bingley said, “Miss Eliza, do you find the necessity for Mrs Darcy to have a certain je ne sais quoi laughable? Oh! you probably do not know; that phrase means a certain intangible air that draws people in.”
Miss Elizabeth said, “Merci pour votre explication. Je ne ris pas de vos propos, Mademoiselle Bingley, mais plut?t de l'absurdité de dresser la liste de toutes les qualités qu'une femme se doit d’avoir.”
Darcy glanced up when Miss Bingley stopped pacing and stared at Miss Elizabeth.
He guessed from Miss Bingley’s expression that she did not fully understand the French that Miss Elizabeth had so fluently spoken: Thank you for your explanation.
I am not laughing at your remarks, Miss Bingley, but rather at the absurdity of listing all the qualities a woman should have.
He could not entirely prevent a smile, but he looked down at his list and wrote, Whenever possible, capable of politely but firmly turning away insults, slights, and attempts at intimidation.
Then he said, “Miss Elizabeth, I too feel the absurdity; however, there is some amount of clarity of thought when one puts pen to paper, do you not agree?”
“I do.”
“And thus, despite the ridiculousness of attempting to capture with a written list what characteristics someone ought to have—shall we say the specific traits my wife ought to have—to some extent the very writing of the list either brings clarity to the writer’s mind or communicates core values to another. ”
“I see, and I suppose that I must agree with so eloquent an explanation of this activity you and Miss Bingley have undertaken. I find it interesting when there are core values that are in contrast to others’ values.”
“Miss Bingley, is your list complete?” Darcy asked.
“Certainly not! I insist on including the need to be a leader in fashion, both in dress and hair, in furnishings, even in art and music. Assuredly, Mrs Darcy must have a high level of taste, thanks to her education, but she should be bold enough and visionary enough to set fashions that will be eagerly followed by others in the ton.”
“How revolutionary a notion that is!” Miss Elizabeth said.
Darcy wrote the next two lines: Cares more about family than society, more about quiet times at home than routs and balls and assemblies. Cares more about charity to those in need than the latest fashion.
“And, naturally, Mrs Darcy must be a brilliant hostess. She must be confident, whether hosting a ball or an intimate dinner with carefully selected guests. She must know the best sources of flowers and food for such gatherings, and she should even be able to come up with clever and creative themes, such as the Language of Flowers or Ancient Egypt.”
Nodding, Darcy wrote, Must be fonder of country living than a whirl of social events in Town. He then rose to his feet. “I feel my list is complete. I hope you feel a sense of completion, as well, Miss Bingley?”