“How long have you known him now?”
“Some weeks,” Elizabeth mumbled.
“And you still feel nothing; is that not right?”
“Oh, Jane!” Elizabeth burst into tears. Jane’s arms were around her in a moment.
A quarter of an hour later, Lizzy wiped her face and said, “Now tell me about London. What happened?”
“Both Uncle Henry and Aunt Madeleine made certain that I meet many young gentleman, though most were of the merchant class. I suspect Aunt Madeleinewould very much like to claim the honour of finding me a husband.”
“No doubt,” Elizabeth agreed dryly.
“But we were invited to dinner at the home of Lord and Lady Stanford, as Lord Stanford is an investor in Uncle’s business.”
“And there is where you met their son; I recall that from your letter.”
“He was very handsome, very charming.”
“And he took you to art museums?”
“Yes, museums and exhibitions, all sorts of things.”
“Did you enjoy that?”
“Not particularly. Nor was I particularly enthralled by the gentleman himself, though there was certainly nothing wrong with him.”
“And then?”
“Why, then Lord Stanford paid a visit to Uncle Gardiner and learned that I have no dowry to speak of and that our father’s estate is entailed away.”
“And that was enough to chase this Mr. Stanford off? Why, good riddance to him!” Elizabeth was indignant on her sister’s behalf.
“Exactly! Oh, Lizzy, how I have missed you! Tell me about Mary and Mr. Collins. They were not present when I first arrived, but at dinner it seemed that they had a good deal to say to one another. And, of course, you must tell me all about this Mr. Bingley!”
“Mr. Bingley is just like your Mr. Stanford, Jane. He is pleasant, well-looking, well-mannered and wealthy. But there is just no spark between us. Honestly, I do not know why he pursues me, as I do not think he feels it either.”
“I do not think gentlemen expect to feel a – well, a spark, as you put it.”
“Perhaps not. In any case, he is at Netherfield with two sisters and the husband of the eldest sister.”
“Are they pleasant?”
“The eldest sister is pleasant enough; the younger one is rather high in the instep. The husband of the eldest mostly sleeps.”
“Do you think he will make you an offer, Lizzy?”
“I fear that he will.”
“You fear it because you know you must accept it,” Jane whispered.
“Exactly.”
“But what of Mary and Mr. Collins? Would a match between them not solve the difficulty? Oh, no, I suppose not. It is unlikely that he has three thousand pounds to give us.”
“Yes. But I am happy for Mary. She loves him, Jane, can you imagine that?”
“Really? Is that what she told you?”
