Author's Note: I had to write a paper about the Netherfield Ball for my AP English class from the POV of a character other than Lizzy. Feedback would be greatly appreciated, 'cause I'll probably have to complete more similar assignments for the class in the future.
Netherfield Ball
"Miss Bennet!" She stood across the room, speaking with Mr. Bingley by the fireplace. I raised my voice as I pushed through the crowd towards her. "Miss Bennet! I've a question for you!"
She broke off her conversation and turned her head as I broke free from the mass of people. "Mr. Collins!" She greeted me with a curtsy, and I bowed to her and her companion in response.
"Excuse the interruption, sir!" I apologized, bowing once again to Mr. Bingley.
"Of course," he said politely. "Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Collins?"
"Very much so!" I enthused. "Netherfield is quite a grand estate, if I do say so myself. I could not imagine a more agreeable location for a ball!" Mr. Bingley smiled in acknowledgement of my compliment. I continued, "Upon entering, I took note that the grounds are simply splendid. And the rooms – how spacious! The furnishings are beautiful, and arranged ever so nicely. Might I suggest, though, that you turn the sofa perpendicular to the pianoforte? Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who has been so kind as to condescend to invite me to dine at Rosings, has situated her music room as such, and, I daresay, it is a fine arrangement indeed! One is at an advantage to hear both the music and the conversation equally well!"
Mr. Bingley cleared his throat and glanced at Miss Bennet, who appeared to be suppressing a sneeze. She raised a hand to cover her mouth while Mr. Bingley addressed me. "Thank you, Mr. Collins, for the excellent advice. I shall bring it up with my steward."
I beamed at him as he exchanged another look with Miss Bennet, who still seemed to be having trouble controlling her allergies.
"The pollen has been terrible this season, hasn't it, Miss Bennet?" I said kindly. "My allergies are acting up as well, I'm afraid."
Her eyebrows arched in surprise. "I – what?" she stuttered. "Er…why, yes. I quite agree. Very terrible indeed." An awkward pause reigned for a moment. Bingley coughed. Jane rocked back on her heels, and then forward again. I cleared my throat. Finally, Jane spoke:
"You mentioned earlier, cousin, that you approached with a question?"
"Ah! Yes! Thank you for reminding me! I got caught up in the conversation and forgot that I came in order to procure a dance partner."
Jane's eyes widened. "A…dance partner?" she echoed.
"A dance partner?" chirped a shrill, bright voice. I turned to see Mrs. Bennet had appeared by my side. "Why, Mr. Collins, you could not be implying that you would like to dance with Jane?"
I chuckled and raised my hands in protest. "Not at all, madam! I merely wondered if Miss Bennet would know where I could find Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who has promised me the first two dances."
Mrs. Bennet squealed. She pointed energetically at a door across the room. "Oh! My Elizabeth! Why, I saw her disappear through there some time ago!"
I thanked her and excused myself, bowing to the ladies and gentleman. At a brisk pace, I set off in the direction Mrs. Bennet had pointed, hoping to reach Elizabeth before the music started. Finally, I spotted her, speaking quietly with Charlotte Lucas. I noticed they were both looking at me, and as I smiled at them, both suddenly looked away. I took this to mean that Elizabeth was searching for me as well, and to know that the excited anticipation of the dance was mutual greatly increased my happiness. Smiling as I approached them, I bowed in response to their dainty curtsies.
"I've been desperately searching everywhere, Miss Elizabeth, for quite some time now! Thank goodness your mother pointed me in your direction! I do believe you've promised me the first two dances, and the music is about to commence."
Elizabeth glanced towards the orchestra and then nodded. "It seems so." She took my offered arm and, bidding Charlotte goodbye, followed me to our places in line.
"Do you dance often, Mr. Collins?"
"Rarely, Miss Eliza!" As I drew breath to elaborate upon my response, the orchestra struck up a lively tune. Immediately, I straightened my face and stiffened my body, completely focused on the music and the steps. Nothing could distract me from making a good impression!
I danced beautifully, of course…except for when I trod upon Miss Eliza's foot and forgot the steps. Naturally, I gave Miss Elizabeth my most solemn apology, and judging by her straight face and thin lips, she barely felt any pain at all. And as for forgetting the steps? I daresay the measure of the elegance of a dancer is based on his execution of the proper steps, not how many were actually correct.