“It is not a lack of consideration, Bingley. You are simply not accustomed to running an estate and the sort of necessary tasks that go with it. That comes from experience.”
“I accept that, but I also admit you are always more attentive to details than I. That is why I always trust your opinion. You are hardly ever wrong.”
“I do not deserve such praise, Bingley. I am simply older.”
Elizabeth said nothing; the relationship between the two friends, so different in nature, age, and even social situation, was a puzzle. She could easily understand Mr Bingley’s appreciation for Mr Darcy — who was superior to him in every way, except perhaps in manners. But why Mr Darcy would wish to be friends with someone outside his circle was less clear.
The carriage arrived at Netherfield in a short time, and Mr Bingley invited them in. He offered Jane his arm, while Elizabeth followed them and Mr Darcy brought up the rear.
Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst greeted them enthusiastically and even embraced Jane. Their manners seemed entirely polite and friendly, yet Elizabeth sensed dishonesty and forced smiles. Her sensation increased once the tea was served, when the two sisters asked a lot of questions, which Jane answered with her usual sincerity. Elizabeth, however, assumed they were mostly meant to reveal the Bennet family’s flaws to their brother. Mr Darcy chose to keep his distance, watching them from a chair, holding a glass of brandy.
“Miss Eliza, is there fur on your skirt?” Miss Bingley abruptly asked.
“Yes,” Elizabeth said, attempting to laugh yet slightly uncomfortable. “My cat, Mr Ash, rubbed himself on me to say goodbye.”
“I love dogs and cats as much as any other person, but only out of doors,” Miss Bingley said. “I would die to find hair on my gown. I spend too much money on them to ruin them so easily.”
“My gowns are not so expensive, and the fur can be easily removed. To me, it is worth the effort,” Elizabeth concluded.
“My mother loved cats too. She even used to sleep with her favourite one,” Mr Darcy interjected, a little smile on his lips.
“I love cats too,” Miss Bingley immediately repeated. “Except that I would rather not keep them in the house. I think that is best for them too — to live a life of freedom. I think it is to their benefit.”
“The truth is that we have never been particularly fond of pets,” Mr Bingley admitted. “Perhaps because we lived in atownhouse and never owned a property in the country. Once I purchase one, I shall begin by buying a dog. Do you like dogs or cats, Miss Bennet?”
Jane blushed and needed a moment to reply.
“Both, I think. I have no firm preference.”
“So, Miss Bennet, your uncle lives in London? He is in trade, you said? Where exactly does he live?” Mrs Hurst asked.
“In Gracechurch Street. Yes, he is in trade and quite successful.”
“I am not sure in what part of London Gracechurch Street is. I doubt I have ever been to that area,” Miss Bingley said.
“It is quite a lovely neighbourhood,” Jane continued. “We visit them often as they are kind enough to invite Lizzy and me.”
“From that part of town, I imagine you are very far from any places of entertainment, such as the opera or theatre,” Mrs Hurst continued.
“Not too far,” Elizabeth interjected. “My uncle may not live in the fashionable part of town, but he has a lovely house and a wonderful family. He is an admirable man, highly educated, and very successful in his business. We all enjoy the theatre and opera, and we attend often when we stay with them. Distance matters little when one owns a good carriage.”
As she spoke, she heard the harshness in her voice, but she did not regret it. The women’s insolence, barely concealed behind polite smiles and careful words, caused her ire to rise.
“Mr Gardiner sounds very much like your excellent father, Bingley,” Mr Darcy interjected, bringing a smile to Elizabeth’s face; the gentleman seemed to disapprove of the two supercilious women as much as she did.
The Bingley sisters turned pale, while their brother answered, “Indeed! And I am sure Louisa and Caroline remember we also lived quite far from Mayfair until ten years ago, when my father managed to purchase a house in Grosvenor Street. He wished to buy an estate too, but in the end he left that responsibility to me. I hope Darcy will help me to fulfil it.”
“It means less where a man lives and more how he manages to turn it into a loving home for his family. And often being a gentleman or a lady means more than owning an estate,” Mr Darcy declared.
“I agree,” Elizabeth said. “And I have always found it amusing when people become conceited and self-important because they inherited a fortune and a social position, without doing much to earn it.” The last statement was rude, but she had said it, and it could not be taken back. Again, Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst looked offended and angry, but surprisingly Mr Darcy smiled.
“’I agree, Miss Elizabeth,” he said. “It is one thing to take pride in your family history and your ancestors and another thing to be proud and arrogant just because you inherited some privileges.”
“But surely one’s name and situation in life make a great difference,” Mrs Hurst declared. “A gentleman like Mr Hurst, or like Mr Darcy, deserves more consideration than someone with no connections in society, and I shall not even mention their fortunes. That is why a woman with a good education and a large dowry has more chance of a happy marriage than one who sadly lacks such advantages.”
“You cannot compare my situation to Darcy’s,” Mr Hurst unexpectedly said, sipping from his brandy. “He is superior in every way.”
“As for women with large dowries,” Mr Bingley said, “I believe they are more likely to have more suitors and receive more marriage proposals, but not necessarily for the right reasons. And that will surely not secure them a happy marriage.”
