Chapter 10
“Miss Bingley played exceedingly well,” Jane said.
“I did not say she did not,” their mother owned, having just moments before commented that Miss Bingley had been jealous of her girls’ talent.
“She played a very technical piece,” their mother acknowledged before taking a bite of her toast. The discussion of the evening before had extended their breakfast because everyone had something to add.
Lydia had commented on the finery the Bingley sisters had worn.
Lydia had always been interested in fashion, and the advent of Miss Farnsworth as their governess had allowed her to develop her interest in this area.
Miss Farnsworth had a light hand in stitching, and she had instructed Lydia diligently in this skill.
Lydia had embraced it further, copying designs from the fashion pamphlets which circulated between the young ladies of Meryton.
All the Bennet sisters had benefited from her skill; they each had dresses which owed their style to Lydia’s work with the needle.
“I thought the piece not much to the taste of our neighbours,” Kitty said.
Mrs Bennet was prevented from replying by the entrance of the footman with a note for Miss Bennet. It came from Netherfield, and the servant waited for an answer, while Jane opened the missive. “It is from Miss Bingley,” said Jane, and proceeded to read it aloud.
“My dear friend,
If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives; for a whole day’s tête-à-tête between two women can never end without a quarrel.
Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this.
My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.
Yours ever,
Caroline Bingley.”
“Can I have the carriage?” Jane asked.
“No, my dear, I’m sorry,” her father said, “because it seems likely to rain, and then you must stay all night.”
“That would be a good scheme,” said Lydia.
“That would not be a scheme at all,” her father replied, without taking his eyes from his eldest daughter.
“You know the stream is likely to flood in such weather at this time of year, and I will not have a daughter of mine staying in the home of a single man with no mature matron to oversee the proprieties.”
“Oh,” was the only response Jane gave. She sat for some moments in silence, the footman still awaiting a response. She then rose to her feet, saying, “I will pen a reply accordingly,” she said, while the footman followed her from the room.
Elizabeth could understand her father’s reasons for not wanting Jane to be trapped in Netherfield overnight.
The incident that took place on her coming out some seven years before had made a lasting impression on her parents.
They had ever since been more cautious of their daughters’ reputations, and Elizabeth, for one, was glad of it.
She did not like to think about who her family might be, if not for this change in attitude.
Particularly, the change in her mother. Elizabeth could still recall how her mother had insisted on Jane being brought out at fifteen, how she had expressed, again and again, that they needed to have all the girls married as soon as may be!
But ever since that event, no mention was made of them marrying, except in the most nebulous of ways.