You will be pleased to know that, despite this, we are all well. Mama complains constantly about her nerves—when she is not planning Jane’s wedding or wishing Mr Darcy away from Meryton—but they are quickly forgotten when she has anything more agreeable to think of.
Papa continues to be amused by everything, including Mama. He had a letter from Kent the other morning which produced great mirth, but he has not yet told us what it contained. I hope he will let us in on the joke by and by.
Kitty and Lydia spend all their time visiting my aunt Philips and buying new bonnets whenever their allowance makes it possible.
Mary is as studious as ever. Her book of extracts is almost full and she has plans to embark on a second volume.
Give my love to my uncle and my cousins.
Your affectionate
Lizzy
Miss Charlotte Lucas to Miss Susan Sotherton
Lucas Lodge, Hertfordshire,
October 27
Dear Susan,
You have asked for more information about the new tenant of Netherfield Park, and you shall have it. Elizabeth has no doubt told you about the assembly ball, where Mr Bingley was the wonder of the evening, new neighbours being rare in this part of the world. I only wish his presence here were not at your expense, for you are sorely missed.
Mr Bingley is fond of company and prefers to spend time with his neighbours instead of with his horses and his dogs as so many men do. He drinks very little and shows no interest in games of chance, save as a means of being agreeable at parties. I must confess I find it refreshing. After living with so many brothers who can think of little but their hounds and their bottle, it is a relief to find someone who likes conversation and dancing. You will remember Alfred, my youngest brother, of course. He is only twelve but already he shows signs of following my other brothers in their favourite pursuits. His favourite occupation at the moment is bragging about how much wine he would drink and how many hounds he would keep if he were as rich as Mr Darcy. Unfortunately, he embarked on his usual bragging when we visited the Bennets and Mrs Bennet was not wise enough to let it pass. Instead she spent the visit arguing with him and so it went, back and forth, with her saying that she would take the bottle away from him if she saw him with it and he saying that she should not.
But there, I have said nothing of Mr Darcy yet. He is Mr Bingley’s friend, though how two such dissimilar men came to be friends I cannot imagine. Mr Darcy is sullen where his friend is lively; aloof where Mr Bingley is friendly; and superior where Mr Bingley is affable. He gave everyone a disgust of him at the assembly, and half of Meryton wishes he would go back to Derbyshire, where apparently he has a very fine estate. No doubt opinion of him would change if he showed any interest in one of the neighbourhood beauties, but he is far too superior for that. He talks only to Mr Bingley’s sisters, who are handsome and fashionable women. The rest of us are beneath his notice.
Mr Bingley, though, seems ready to fall in love. He is very attentive to Jane Bennet. I am sure I hope it might come to something, for it would be a very good match for her. I am persuaded that she would be as happy as anyone ever is in marriage. I am not romantic, you know, and if a good man showed half as much interest in me as Mr Bingley is showing in Jane, I would have no difficulty in encouraging him. His wife will have a comfortable home, she will be respectable, and in addition she will have a husband who has no flaws for her to be ashamed of.
I have told Elizabeth that she should use her influence with Jane and advise her sister to show more interest in him, but Elizabeth is romantic and thinks that Jane needs more time to truly understand Mr Bingley’s character. I cannot agree with her. Jane and Mr Bingley have spent four evenings together, and if she were married tomorrow, I should think Jane had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character a twelvemonth. But it is no good. Elizabeth is content to let them go on as they are, and Jane has such a composed manner that Mr Bingley will never guess at her feelings unless she does or says something to make him understand.
It is a pity. It is clear that he likes her, and if she would only do something to help him on, I believe he would make her an offer. But otherwise I fear it will come to nothing. He is an unassuming young man, unaware of his own attractions, and he will not have the courage to ask for her hand unless she gives him some sign that it would be welcome.
My own prospects for marriage are no better than they were when you went away. Although I am happy enough at home, I would like my own establishment, rather than having to live my life with Mama and Papa; but unless another young man just happens to arrive in the neighbourhood, I fear my chances are slim.
But what of you? Has Bath cured your father of his unfortunate propensities? Has it brought you any new acquaintance worth having? Write and tell me all your news.
Your friend,
Charlotte
NOVEMBER
Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
November 5
Most noble Friend,
My plans for improvement have already reaped me rich rewards and I hope that your own endeavours have been as well received. As you know—for you, dear Lucy, are of a similar mind—I am not inclined to waste my time in the frivolity of social engagements, but I was compelled by my mother to attend a gathering at Sir William Lucas’s house last night. She swept aside my arguments—for, not being a Learned Woman, she was unable to appreciate their potency—and said irritably, ‘I thought you would want to show off, you have been practising that piece long enough.’
I was much struck, for though her sentiment was badly expressed, it echoed my own feelings that I should indeed be sharing my accomplishments with the world. I therefore condescended to attend the gathering. I was amply rewarded, for when I succeeded my sister Elizabeth at the pianoforte, Mr Darcy listened to my concerto with a look of astonishment. He had obviously not expected such a high degree of excellence from a young woman in such a small town.
Alas! My sisters then demanded a jig and I was forced to accede to their wishes, though as I remarked to Mr Shackleton afterwards, ‘A jig might feed the body but a concerto feeds the soul.’
He was much struck and begged for permission to copy it into his book of extracts.
Lydia, Jane and Kitty danced for the rest of the evening, but I did not indulge in the activity. Elizabeth almost danced, for when Sir William saw that she was without a partner, he begged one for her, but it came to nothing. If Sir William had been a Learned Man, he would not have chosen Mr Darcy to be the object of his solicitations, for Mr Darcy had already said that he did not like to dance.
I believe that Mr Darcy and I have much in common. We share a love of music and, like Mr Darcy, I am not given to dancing. I think he had the right of it when he explained his aversion to the exercise by saying to Sir William, ‘Every savage can dance.’ I was much struck by the truth of it and I have copied it into my book of extracts.
Your friend,
Mary
Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Miss Susan Sotherton
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
November 5
My dear Susan,
I should not triumph in it, I know, but I had a chance of turning the tables on Mr Darcy when we were at the Lucases’ last night, thereby changing mortification to something far more satisfactory. Sir William, seeing me without a partner, entreated Mr Darcy to dance with me, and before Mr Darcy could refuse I replied coolly that I had no intention of dancing. Mr Darcy was confounded and my feelings were assuaged.