Chapter 7

MR.  BENNET's property consisted almost entirely in an
estate of two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his
daughters, was entailed in default of heirs male, on a distant
relation; and their mother's fortune, though ample for her
situation in life, could but ill supply the deficiency of his.  Her
father had been an attorney in Meryton, and had left her four
thousand pounds.
She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a
lerk to their father, and succeeded him in the business, and a
brother settled in London in a respectable line of trade.
 The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton;
a most convenient distance for the young ladies, who were
usually tempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their
duty to their aunt and to a milliner's shop just over the way.
The two youngest of the family, Catherine and Lydia, were
particularly frequent in these attentions; their minds were
more vacant than their sisters', and when nothing better
offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and however 
bare of news the country in general might be, they always
contrived to learn some from their aunt.  At present, indeed,
they were well supplied both with news and happiness by the
recent arrival of a militia regiment in the neighbourhood; it
was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was the head
quarters.
 Their visits to Mrs. Philips were now productive of the most
interesting intelligence.  Every day added something to their
knowledge of the officers' names and connections.  Their
lodgings were not long a secret, and at length they began to
know the officers themselves.  Mr. Philips visited them all,
and this opened to his nieces a source of felicity unknown
before.  They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. 
Bingley's large fortune, the mention of which gave animation 
to their mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed
to the regimentals of an ensign.
After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, 
Mr. Bennet coolly observed,
"From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you
must be two of the silliest girls in the country.  I have suspected
it some time, but I am now convinced."
 Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but
Lydia, with perfect indifference, continued to express her
admiration of Captain Carter, and her hope of seeing him
in the course of the day, as he was going the next morning
to London.
"I am astonished, my dear," said Mrs. Bennet, "that you
should be so ready to think your own children silly.  If I
wished to think slightingly of any body's children, it should
not be of my own however."
"If my children are silly I must hope to be always sensible
of it."
"Yes -- but as it happens, they are all of them very clever."
"This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not
agree.  I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every
particular, but I must so far differ from you as to think our
two youngest daughters uncommonly foolish "
"My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to
have the sense of their father and mother. -- When they get to
our age I dare say they will not think about officers any more
than we do.  I remember the time when I liked a red coat
myself very well -- and indeed so I do still at my heart; and if
a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year should
want one of my girls, I shall not say nay to him; and I thought
Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir
William's in his regimentals."
"Mama," cried Lydia, "my aunt says that Colonel Forster
and Captain Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson's as
they did when they first came; she sees them now very often
standing in Clarke's library."
Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the
footman with a note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, 
and the servant waited for an answer.  Mrs. Bennet's eyes
sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, while
her daughter read,
"Well, Jane, who is it from?  what is it about?  what does he
say?  Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love."
"It is from Miss Bingley," said Jane, and then read it
aloud.
"My dear Friend,
"If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with
Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other
for the rest of our lives, for a whole day's tete-a-tete between
two women can never end without a quarrel.  Come as
soon as you can on the receipt of this.  My brother and
the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.  Yours ever,
"CAROLINE BINGLEY."
"With the officers!" cried Lydia.  "I wonder my aunt did
not tell us of that."
"Dining out," said Mrs. Bennet, "that is very unlucky."
"Can I have the carriage?" said Jane.
"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it
seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night."
"That would be a good scheme," said Elizabeth, "if you were
 sure that they would not 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 to theirs."
"I had much rather go in the coach."
"But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am
sure.  They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are not 
they?"
"They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get
them."
"But if you have got them to day," said Elizabeth, "my
mother's purpose will be answered."
She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment 
that the horses were engaged.  Jane was therefore
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 had not been gone long
 before it rained hard.  Her sisters were uneasy for her, but
her mother was delighted.  The rain continued the whole
evening without intermission; Jane certainly could not
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 was not 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 home till I am
better.  They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones -- therefore
do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to
me -- and excepting a sore-throat and head-ache there is not
much the matter with me.
"Yours, &c."
"Well, my dear," said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read
the note aloud, "if your daughter should have a dangerous fit
of illness, if she should die, it would be a comfort to know
that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your
orders."
"Oh!  I am not at all afraid of her dying.  People do not die
of little trifling colds.  She will be taken good care of.  As long
is she stays there, it is all very well.  I would go and see her,
if I could have the carriage."
Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to
her, though the carriage was not to be had; and as she was no
horse-woman, walking was her only alternative.  She declared
her resolution.
"How can you be so silly," cried her mother, "as to think of
such a thing, in all this dirt!  You will not be fit to be seen
when you get there."
"I shall be very fit to see Jane -- which is all I want."
"Is this a hint to me, Lizzy," said her father, "to send for
the horses?"
"No, indeed.  I do not wish to avoid the walk.  The distance
is nothing, when one has a motive; only three miles.  I shall
be back by dinner."
"I admire the activity of your benevolence," observed Mary,
"but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason;
and, in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion
to what is required."
"We will go as far as Meryton with you," said Catherine and
Lydia. -- Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three
young ladies set off together.
"If we make haste," said Lydia, as they walked along,
"perhaps we may see something of Captain Carter before
he goes."
In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the
lodgings of one of the officers' wives, and Elizabeth continued
her walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient
activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house,
with weary ancles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with
the warmth of exercise.
She was shewn into the breakfast-parlour, where all but
Jane were assembled, and where her appearance created a
great deal of surprise. -- That she should have walked three
miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, 
was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley;
and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt
for it.  She was received, however, very politely by them; and
in their brother's manners there was something better than
politeness; there was good humour and kindness. -- Mr. Darcy
said very little, and Mr. Hurst nothing at all.  The former was
divided between admiration of the brilliancy which exercise
had given to her complexion, and doubt as to the occasion's
justifying her coming so far alone.  The latter was thinking
only of his breakfast.
Her enquiries after her sister were not very favourably
answered.  Miss Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very
feverish and not well enough to leave her room.  Elizabeth was
glad to be taken to her immediately; and Jane, who had only
been withheld by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience,
from expressing in her note how much she longed for such a
visit, was delighted at her entrance.  She was not equal, however, 
to much conversation, and when Miss Bingley left them
together, could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude
for the extraordinary kindness she was treated with.  Elizabeth
silently attended her.
When breakfast was over, they were joined by the sisters--
and Elizabeth began to like them herself, when she saw how
much affection and solicitude they shewed for Jane.  The
apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said, as
might be supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, and
that they must endeavour to get the better of it; advised her
to return to bed, and promised her some draughts.  The advice
was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased,
and her head ached acutely.  Elizabeth did not quit her room
for a moment, nor were the other ladies often absent; the
gentlemen being out, they had in fact nothing to do elsewhere.
When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must
go; and very unwillingly said so.  Miss Bingley offered her the
carriage, and she only wanted a little pressing to accept it
when Jane testified such concern in parting with her, that
Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer of the chaise
into an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present.
Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was 
dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay,
and bring back a supply of clothes.