Pride and Prejudice: An Amorous Retelling

4 :: Dining at Netherfield

The happy occasion arose that a note was received by Jane at Longbourn from Netherfield, and the servant who brought it waited upon her for an answer.

Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she eagerly called out as her daughter read the letter, "Well, Jane, who is it from? What's it about? What does he say? Come, Jane, hurry and tell us, my love."

"It's from Miss Bingley," said Jane, and then read it aloud.

My Dear Friend,

If you are not so compassionate as to dine today 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 receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.

Yours ever, Caroline Bingley

"Dining out," clucked Mrs. Bennet, "that's very unlucky."

"Can I have the carriage?" said Jane.

"No, my dear, you'd best go on horseback. It's seems likely to rain, and then you must stay all night."

"That would be a good scheme," Elizabeth said drily, "if you were sure that they wouldn't offer to send her home."

"Oh, but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to Meryton, and the Hursts have no horses of their own."

"I'd much rather go in the coach," Jane interjected.

"But, my dear, your father can't spare the horses, I'm sure. They're wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, aren't they?"

"They're wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them," Mr. Bennet concurred.

In the end, Jane was obliged to go on horseback, and her mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were answered. Jane hadn't been gone long before it rained hard. Elizabeth was uneasy for her sister, but her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission. Jane certainly couldn't come back.

"This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!" said Mrs. Bennet more than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next morning, however, she wasn't aware of all the felicity of her contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought the following note for Elizabeth.

My Dearest Lizzy,

I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning till I am better. They insist also on my seeing the doctor, therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me—and, excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the matter with me.

Yours, etc.

"Well, my dear," Mr. Bennet said to his wife after Elizabeth had read the note aloud, "if Jane should die, I'm sure it'll comfort you to know it was in pursuit of Mr. Bingley and under you orders."

"Nonsense. People don't die of trifling colds. As long as she stays there, it's all very well. I'd go and see her if I could have the carriage."

Elizabeth, anxious and determined to see her sister, declared, "I'll walk to see Jane."

Mr. Bennet frowned. "I can't offer you the carriage, Lizzy my dear."

"Pay it no mind. I intend to walk, Father. It's only three miles."

"Three miles in all this dirt? You won't be fit to be seen!" Mrs. Bennet retorted.

"I'll be fit to see Jane which is all I want."