The group was in the middle of a very nice dinner at the Farmer's Rest Inn. They had been served pheasant and potatoes with fresh vegetables form the local market and were engaged in enjoying a traditional dessert of cobbler and milk or wine.

Mr. Wythe asked, "So, Miss Bennet. You mentioned your father taught you about the ancients. Do you find discussion of such topics puts off certain classes of gentlemen?"

Elizabeth replied somewhat cautiously, "Perhaps."

He laughed, and said, "Miss Bennet, I have been about in the world for quite some time. I believe there are many men who prefer their women to be less educated or less clever than themselves, because it allows them to feel superior."

Elizabeth looked at him suspiciously, and said, "You do not believe men to be superior?"

He chuckled, and said, "Perhaps I am either a modern man or a throwback to another time, but I do not believe it to be so. Men are better at things they are taught to be better at, while women are better at the things they are taught. I believe if you reversed the course of education you would get quite a different result, but I very much doubt that experiment will be done for some time, if ever."

"So, you are not offended by impertinent women?"

Mr. Wythe just looked at his wife, smiled broadly, and said, "Not in the least, my dear. May I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course."

"Did Lady Matlock discuss my business with the estate?"

Elizabeth looked at Mrs. Wythe, who just nodded, and said, "Yes, she said that she was 'not supposed to know about such things' but that her wool income doubled under your stewardship."

Mr. Wythe laughed a bit, and said, "Yes, she would say that. Did she mention that I follow her orders to the letter?"

"No, she did not feel compelled to disclose that to a complete stranger."

Mr. Wythe chuckled, and said, "From that, what would you conclude about the Earl?"

"That he is either a very lazy or a very sensible man… most likely the latter."

"Why?"

"Because he has enough sense to stay out of her way."

Everyone around the table laughed, and Mr. Wythe said, "That is funny, but very close to the truth, Miss Bennet."

"I do not doubt it for a moment."

"So, I believe you understand that you can trust us to not disparage you if you know more than I do?"

"I do not know more than you do, Sir. That much is obvious. I may know a few things you do not, but never would I compete."

Mrs. Wythe said, "Of course not, Dear. We do not believe you to be in any way deficient, nor do you have excess pride or excess humility… at least no more nor less than the rest of us. We just wanted to be explicit."

Elizabeth smiled, and thought that the was going to be very sad when she parted company with the Wythes.

Mr. Wythe said, "So, now that we are all on equal footing, tell me about the ancients."

"Truly?"

"Truly. I am interested."

Elizabeth sat back for a moment, and said, "Well, it goes back to Plato and Aristotle, although many others thought the same or similar thoughts that have been lost to time. He mentioned the Babylonians and Buddhists and said there were many others who studied similar lines of thought, but written records did not exist or did not survive."

"Educated man, your father."

"Yes, Sir. Plato believed the mind consisted of basically three parts. Logistikon is the intellect, the seat of reasoning and logic; Thumos: dictates emotions and feelings; Epithumetikon: governed desires and appetites. What we call thinking, reasoning, feelings and actions are all just different parts of the mind alternately competing for dominance or cooperating."

"Yes, I am familiar with that, though his pupil, Aristotle favored the idea of only two."

"Yes, he believed the latter two were essentially the same thing, thus breaking thinking into reason and emotion… more or less. My father imagines learned men will still be arguing about it centuries hence, with each generation picking a number either greater or lesser than their immediate ancestors just because they can."

Everyone around the table laughed, and Elizabeth said, "It came up today when Margie and I were talking about fear. Standing on the cliff face feels terrifying, with Thumos in control, but rationally it is less dangerous than riding a horse, or even in a carriage, according to Logistikon. In this case, logic can override emotion, but frequently it is the other way, with emotions deciding our actions and logic selectively examining the facts to come up with an explanation that makes sense."

The entire idea lit a fire of conversation around the table, and Lizzy felt like she was in the middle of a debate in Plato's Academy. A spirited discussion lasted through the desserts, and into tea time.

Finally, nearly exhausting the topic and feeling exhilarated, conversation wound down.

Mr. Wythe said, "Miss Bennet… we have canvassed fear, greed, desire and other emotions. What about the most misunderstood of all, what of Love?"

Elizabeth sat still for a moment, while her companions gave her time to think.

"Well, that one is definitely the most misunderstood. Perhaps it is because it is the most powerful. What will a parent not do for love of a child, or a man or wife for a beloved spouse? Why do some people experience a feeling so powerful it would be crippling to be denied its expression, while the next person never feels any more affection for any living person than a hound? I cannot pretend to compete with the poets for an explanation."

Mrs. Wythe said, "Of course, you cannot explain it, Dear. None of us can, but we were wondering if you see any connection between rationality and love?"

Elizabeth thought about it for some time, and finally replied.

"Well, some people marry for practical reasons, but love develops on its own, while others do not, or worse yet come to despise each other. Perhaps those who do fall in love in practical marriages rationally decide to push their emotions in the proper direction, allowing Logistikon to influence Thumos over time. Or perhaps, falling in love with a partner who is at least lovable may be the most rational reaction and will happen automatically to any sensible person. Perhaps Thumos is more resilient and less particular than we might have thought, and love is the inevitable result of exposure over long periods to a person who is somewhat lovable."

Margaret said, "Yes, that is but an extreme example. Can you think of others?"

Elizabeth raised her finger to speak, and suddenly, her voice stopped mid‑word, and nothing came out for a moment.

Mrs. Wythe asked gently, "Are you all right, dear?"

Elizabeth nodded, incapable of speaking, and said, "Yes, I am fine. I just thought of something. It is embarrassing to admit to it though."

Mr. Wythe said, "You need not share anything too personal, Miss Bennet. We neither demand it nor expect it, but occasionally a burden shared is a burden halved. Forgive me for saying it, but you have always seemed like you were carrying a burden since we met you."

Elizabeth laughed a bit of a discordant sound, and said, "You mean you very astutely detected something was amiss when you found me sans luggage in the stage stop in Bromley, without any money, and a peculiar desire to avoid all of my relatives' homes and the parsonage I had just left?"

Mrs. Wythe slid forward in her chair and took Elizabeth's hands, and said, "Well, that much was obvious, but we were not distressed by it."

Curious, Elizabeth asked, "Why were you not? I have always wondered that. It was completely improper, impulsive and impolite, yet you went along with the scheme. Why?"

Mr. Wythe slid forward in his chair, and while he would not be so improper as to take Elizabeth's hand, he did put his hand on his wife's wrist, as she held Elizabeth's hand. Margaret immediately slid forward but was not quite so timid, so she joined her hand to her mother's and Lizzy's.

Margaret said, "Lizzy, my father will not boast, but he is successful in his business because he understands people, quickly and efficiently. He trusted you because you are trustworthy."

Mr. Wythe said, "Here is a good lesson in negotiation, Miss Bennet. The first thirty‑seconds of any negotiation will usually tell you more than the several hours that follow. It is your one true chance to size each other up without the blinders built up from the previous half‑minute. This is important. First impressions can tell you a lot about what will happen, but they can just as easily fire you in the wrong direction like a cannon blast. Any businessman needs to learn which first impressions to keep, and which to amend. You did well upon your first impression, and subsequent observation revealed your character. Nothing in these weeks has changed that first impression, but I have spent a lifetime studying the art, so I trust mine, but am willing to amend them as I learn more."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I always trusted my first impressions as well, but I have lately come to doubt them."

Mr. Wythe said, "Well then, Miss Bennet. Perhaps it is time to allow Logistikon some opportunity to work on Thumos. If your emotional mind is confused, let your logical mind take a crack at it."

"How is that to be done?"

"When I was apprenticed to my father, we would sit down after any negotiation and discuss what happened in the minutest detail, trying to separate reactions to our antagonist from reactions to our own prejudices; and our feelings from facts, opinions from instincts. It took some time, but if you give your vaunted Logistikon the time and patience to work through the whole affair, start to finish, you may be surprised by the results.

Elizabeth sat back in her chair, blew out a deep breath and thought about what he had said.

Finally, she said, "Would you be willing to stand in for your father in that exercise, Mr. Wythe."

The gentleman chuckled, and said, "Of course. I have been dying to find out what that lunkhead did to make you run off with just the clothes on your back, but we would never invade your privacy by asking."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "You just assume it is a problem with a man?"

Mrs. Wythe said, "It usually is, Dear."

Mr. Wythe said, "Yes, my dear. If I surveyed one hundred men about their most vexing problems in life, ninety-eight of them would assert it is a problem with a woman."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Well, the problems are at least symmetrical."

"Yes, Dear. They are. Now, we are happy to listen if you wish to talk."

Elizabeth sighed and said, "Well, there is just one problem."

"Which is?"

"When I met you in Bromley, I would have agreed with you one thousand percent that I had a 'lunkhead problem' as you call it."

"And now?"

"Now, I still do, but I am not certain which of us is the lunkhead."

"Do not make yourself uneasy, Miss Bennet, but if you wish to talk, we wish to listen."

Elizabeth sighed mightily and began her tale.

"Well, as you surmised, the problem is with a gentleman. My first impression was NOT auspicious. The first words he said within my hearing were 'She is tolerable…'"

An hour later, the entire story had been told from the ignominious beginning to the mortifying proposal.

"And then… well, I do not actually know if I should be proud or shamed, but I panicked. I, who pride myself on my self‑reliance and rationality, just panicked. I had every person I ever met shouting instructions to me, and I finally just turned and ran."

All three of her companions were staring at her mouths slightly ajar in surprise and sympathy.

Mr. Wythe said, "So two abominable proposals in four months. That may be some sort of record, Miss Bennet."

Everyone chuckled a bit, with a release of some of the tension in the room.

Mrs. Wythe asked, "Did you say anything to the so‑called gentleman?"

Elizabeth blushed beet red, looked down at her hands, and said, "Not a word. That is the shameful part. I… I… well… I…"

She blew out a huge breath, and said, "I have a bit of a temper, and in the first rejection, the other so‑called gentleman refused to take 'no' for an answer. The two gentlemen could be compared in relative stature as a worm and a hawk, and I… well… I was deathly afraid of what I would say to the hawk if he provoked me. I fear… well, as like as not, it would have been very unpleasant."

All three nodded, thinking very unpleasant was the appropriate response to such a proposal.

Elizabeth continued, "My mother tried to force my acceptance of the first proposal from the worm. You can imagine her reaction to the hawk. I was but six weeks from my age of majority, where I would have relative freedom. It might be the relative freedom to be poor as a rat, but I just could not allow the biggest choice in my life to be dictated by someone else. There is a saying, 'marry in haste, repent at leisure'. I prefer not to repent at all."

Mrs. Wythe leaned ahead and took her hands again, and said, "When is your birthday, Dear?"

"Next week."

Mr. Wythe said, "Let us remove the 'poor as a rat' option, Miss Bennet. So long as you are willing to enter the trades, I will be happy to assist you. I know any number of businessmen who would snatch you up in a heartbeat. You can live perfectly comfortably on your own, or better yet with us, until you find a husband somewhere between the two extremes… perhaps a rabbit or gazelle?"

Everyone laughed, and Elizabeth continued.

"Well, all of this time, I have been reconsidering the hawk. Logistikon has for the past several weeks been very annoyingly persistent. It says that perhaps the gentleman is shy, or uncomfortable in crowds, or so in love with me he becomes tongue‑tied. Thumos is less sanguine about those ideas but does seem to be impressed that he is the handsomest man I have ever seen, while Epithumetikon asserts that a handsome gentleman may not be the worst thing in the world. I will never be comfortable with any decision until I learn more about him."

"Do you feel like sharing the gentleman's identity with us, Miss Bennet? You know it is not necessary."

Elizabeth looked around and decided to give them the last tiny little bit of her story she had been holding back.

"I have been reluctant to tell anyone, though I hope you do not believe it is due to lack of trust."

Mrs. Wythe said, "No, it is entirely sensible. A lady cannot be too careful with her reputation."

Elizabeth laughed darkly, and said, "I agree. My sister Mary prattles on about that frequently, though is not entirely wrong. She says that 'loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable; that one false step involves her in endless ruin; that her reputation is no less brittle than it is beautiful'. I hope you do not feel I mistrust you?"

"Of course not, Dear. You are guarding your heart and your life. Frankly, I would be disappointed in you if you had told us earlier. It would show less sense than we expect from you."

Elizabeth smiled at Mrs. Wythe, a woman she would introduce to her Aunt Gardiner at the absolute soonest opportunity, but then grew pensive, sighed, and began.

"You may well know the man, Mr. Wythe. It is Mr. Darcy of Pemberley."

Mr. Wythe gasped a bit, while Mrs. Wythe and Margaret just looked neutrally.

Mrs. Wythe said, "Well, that explains some of your odd conversations I overheard in Kympton."

"Yes, ma'am. I was trying to learn more about him - trying to feed Logistikon."

Mr. Wythe said, "I do not know the gentleman, Miss Bennet, but I do know of him. He runs more cattle than sheep and has a different broker for his wool. He is reputed to be a very reputable man, a fair master, affable to the poor, but somewhat aloof and standoffish. I could find out more if you like, but not right away."

Elizabeth said, "No, Sir, I would prefer to continue on my own. Sooner or later I will have to face him. I imagine the proposal has expired by now, but I do owe him a straight answer, and I owe it to myself to understand what I have either avoided or squandered."

"You seem to discount the possibility of acceptance, Lizzy?"

"Do you really believe that a man who proposed marriage to a woman who would not answer, and did not see for several months, would not have retracted the offer, Margie?"

"Hohoho"

Elizabeth looked at Mr. Wythe in consternation, while the gentleman laughed.

Mr. Wythe looked at his wife, and said, "You do not understand an engaged heart yet, Miss Bennet. My Dorothy accepted my first proposal, but had she denied me, it would only have delayed the inevitable. I suspect that if your lunkhead is anything akin to a man truly in love, that two months or two years would only inconvenience him. I believe the offer to still be open."

Elizabeth just stared, but the gentleman was not done yet.

"Think on this, Miss Elizabeth. Supposed I snap my fingers and you are Mrs. Darcy. What would happen when you went to Town to join the first circles?"

Elizabeth looked at him, and for the first time tried to picture such a thing. She thought furiously for several minutes, with her face falling with each moment.

"I never thought of that. I imagine it might be difficult. Every matchmaker and daughter in the first circles will assume I compromised him, or some such. Some will accept me, and some will disparage me, either to my face or behind my back."

Mr. Wythe leaned again, and carefully said, "Let us give Logistikon free reign for a moment. Let us presume that instead of a hawk, your Mr. Darcy is more akin to a tasty hare. All those matchmakers you mentioned must have been circling like vultures for years. Might such a man be not quite as acquainted with Thumos as a person with a more typical upbringing."

Elizabeth thought about it for some time, and finally nodded her head.

Very gently, the father said, "And, is it even remotely possible that such a man, under the completely unanticipated thrall of Thumos or Eros or whatever you want to call his particular malady, might feel it his duty to acquaint you with the snake pit he proposes to drag you into."

Elizabeth gasped in surprise at the very idea but thought she should take it seriously. She thought furiously, while Mr. Wythe took out his pipe and began tamping down the tobacco, and the ladies called for more tea.

After some time, Mr. Wythe said, "Any thoughts, Miss Bennet."

"Just that you should call me Lizzy after all this."

"It will be our privilege."

"And… and… well… Logistikon has suggested the slim possibility that he was in earnest, but just tremendously bad at proposals. It is not something that is taught well, or that you can practice."

Everyone laughed heartily, and by mutual silent consent, they decided to move onto lighter topics for the remainder of the evening.

After more tea and biscuits, they started preparing for their beds.

Mr. Wythe said, "You are aware Lizzy, that Pemberley is just thirty miles to the East. We could stop there if you like."

Elizabeth gasped, looked startled, and said, "Yes, that will work. I will just speak with the housekeeper and say, 'Hello, I am Elizabeth Bennet. Your master proposed marriage to me, and I refused to answer him, but if you do not mind, I would stay awhile so I can interrogate you.' Yes, Sir, that will work!"

With a laugh, they all decided to go to bed. Lizzy knew there was one estate in Derbyshire where she would not be going, but after all this thought and discussion, she thought she might just let her twenty‑first birthday elapse, then return to Longbourn and see if he eventually showed up.

Yes, that would work!