Elizabeth considered this.
Mary continued. “She was seldom far from him, and when they were apart, she spoke of him in terms suggesting a degree of familiarity his responses did little to encourage.”
Mrs. Bennet frowned. “I found that young woman rather disagreeable.”
“She may have hoped to elevate herself by diminishing others,” Mary said.
Elizabeth allowed the possibility, though it failed to explain the matter fully.
The door opened.
Thomas and Toby entered.
No one had summoned them, and by every reasonable standard they ought to have been asleep. Even so, there they stood, alert and plainly consumed by curiosity.
“Mama,” Thomas said.
“You ought to be in bed,” Mrs. Bennet replied.
“We heard voices,” Toby said.
“And we wished to know what had happened.”
Mrs. Bennet regarded them steadily.
“What has happened is that you have left your beds without permission.”
The boys remained where they were.
“Was Mr. Darcy there?” Thomas asked.
Elizabeth turned toward them.
“He was.”
Toby’s expression brightened. “He is very agreeable.”
Elizabeth’s lips curved slightly, though her amusement was restrained. “You think so?”
“He gave us coins,” Thomas said.
“And told us he was once a boy who climbed trees,” Toby added.
“When did you meet Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Bennet asked, her expression clearly disapproving.
The boys exchanged guilty glances. “We met him at Netherfield on Michaelmas.”
Mrs. Bennet raised a brow. “We shall discuss your excursion at another time. That said, giving two boys a coin apiece is no guarantee of proper conduct in a ballroom.”
“He is a gentleman,” Thomas insisted.
“Gentlemen sometimes say disagreeable things,” Toby observed.
Elizabeth met their gaze. “Sometimes,” she said, “they do.”
Mrs. Bennet nodded. “Your sister is correct. A gentleman may possess every outward advantage of his station and still behave in a manner unworthy of it.”
The boys exchanged another look.
