Page 2 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

“You know our new neighbor, Mr. Bingley?” Kitty asked.

“Wait a minute, Kitty, I was going to tell her,” Lydia reminded her sharply.

“Well, go on then,” Kitty said, scowling.

“I have met Mr. Bingley,” Lizzy reminded them.

Lizzy moved through the aisles of her menagerie, feeding this animal and that one, waiting for the news. A three-month old red deer, Carl, approached, and she petted him, making cooing noises, before she moved to set the tray on a high shelf so her hands were free.

“I will get the hay, Lizzy,” Kitty offered, hurrying over to put a bundle of alfalfa inside a hay crib attached to the wall. Carl left Lizzy and moved over to begin pulling hay free.

“My news!” Lydia cried, stamping her foot.

The menagerie became silent as every animal turned their eyes on Lizzy’s youngest sister.

“I will thank you to keep your voice down,” Lizzy ordered calmly, though a thread of steel ran through her words. “I will not have my friends made anxious by you.”

Lydia folded her arms and sniffed. “I do not have to listen to your orders, Lizzy. I was doing you a favor by telling you the news. Humph.” She turned on her heel and walked away. “Kitty. Come.”

Lizzy touched Kitty’s arm. “You are not a dog, dear.”

“I will go. But, first, the news is that Mr. Bingley’s friend is coming for a visit.”

“Is that all?”

Hurrying after Lydia, Kitty said, over her shoulder, “The rumor is that he has £10,000 per annum.”

Lizzy pressed her lips together. “Drat,” she muttered. “That means Mama will be incorrigible.” Lizzy moved on to the bird enclosure and addressed her caveat to them as she put several scoops of seeds and nuts onto the wooden tray. “But then, Mama would be incorrigible if he had a £1000 per year. After all, the lesser amount is still twenty times more than my £50.”

Straightening, she turned at the sound of padding feet crossing the flagstone floor. Her large, shaggy black and gray dog approached. Frowning, she crouched a little and peered at his muzzle. He had something in his mouth.

“Harry? What have you there?”

Harry lowered his head and deposited a damp animal on the floor. He licked it all over and the liver and white fur shifted with each pass of his long tongue.

“Is it a baby rabbit?” she asked, going down on her knees and peering closely at it. “No, its ears are too small.” The bundle of fur shifted. “And look how short its legs are.”

Finished his self-imposed task, Harry sat back on his haunches and tilted his head to one side as though saying, “Look what I have brought you.”

“Thank you very much, Harry,” Lizzy said. She tugged her apron from beneath her knees and scooped the strange animal up into its folds, holding him close to her chest. Squeaky complained, squirming his way free of her pocket. He scrambled past their new friend and perched on her shoulder. “Hello, there,” Lizzy purred, staring down into the dark brown eyes of the animal on her chest. “What are you? Are you wild? Or someone’s escaped pet? And, what name should we give you?”

Lizzy walked him over to the corner where she kept her desk and chose a book from her book shelf, while holding onto the stranger with one hand.

“I think you are purring,” she said, setting the book on her desk and sitting in her chair. Lizzy began flipping through the book, looking for an article that might name his species for her. About to turn a page, she stopped and looked more closely at the image on it. “Is this you?”

The animal made a sort of grunting noise.

“Are you a cavia porcellus? A guinea pig? I have heard of them—of course I have—but you are my first,” Lizzy said, grinning. “What shall I call you? Perhaps you already have a name—if you are an escaped pet—but I do not wish to call you ‘pig’ until we discover to whom you might belong.”

“I think you should call him ‘Jeffry’,” a voice said from behind her.

Lizzy swiveled in her chair, smiling at her beloved sister, Jane. “Jeffry?” She folded back her apron and held him up for Jane to see. “Does he seem like a Jeffry to you?”

“He does,” Jane said in a firm voice. “Where will you put him?”

“I have a spare enclosure over here,” Lizzy said, rising. “With such short legs, I do not think he can jump. I will put in some tunnels and bedding.”

“What does he eat?”