Wednesday, 13th November 1811
Poor Jane! I am so very vexed with Mama for dearest Jane is presently lying ill here at Netherfield, and Mama is pleased about this situation! It is insupportable! We knew that Jane could not return to Longbourn last night because of the weather, but this morning I received a letter from her, attempting to belittle her illness and ease any worry I might have had for her. To me it was obvious that she would appreciate a familiar face, and indeed, I will admit to being concerned about Miss Bingley's effectiveness as a nurse, given her distaste for life in Hertfordshire. She simply does not seem to be the type of person who would appreciate looking after a patient. I was therefore determined to visit Netherfield and ascertain Jane's state for myself. Mama was extremely vexed to learn of my intention, and moreso following her understanding that I intended to walk the three miles rather than put Papa out by making use of our carriage. I would not be fit to be seen, she said. My only desire was to see Jane, though, and Jane cares little about a spattering of mud on the hem of one's petticoat. It is a pity that such cannot be said of other ladies of our acquaintance.
On my arrival at Netherfield, I was shown to the breakfast parlour. I will own that I was very aware that muddy did not do justice to the state of my skirts – yesterday's rainfall had left the fields particularly dirty, but I had no intention of allowing that to deter me from my aim. Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley were all astonishment at my endeavour, and I feel that I would not be lying if I said that they were unimpressed by my appearance. Mr Bingley, however, was all charm, and exceedingly worried about dear Jane, which naturally recommended him to me. He was very kind, whereas his sisters were polite, but no more so than propriety demanded. As for Mr Darcy... Mr Darcy said very little, but I fear he was more inclined to support the sisters than their amiable brother. As for Mr Hurst, he was more interested in the coddled eggs than my arrival, and said not one thing to me in the entirety of the interview. If Mrs Hurst were not such a disagreeable person, one would almost feel sorry for her. As it is, I doubt that she notices her husband's inattention, for she is far too busy belittling all those who cross her way.
When I was finally shown to Jane, I was most concerned, for, in truth, she is really quite poorly. It was clear that she had hoped for my visit, and I was glad that I had ignored Mama's warnings and made the effort to come. Poor Jane was too ill to converse much though, and beyond expressing her gratitude towards Mr Bingley and his sister for their kindness in hosting her, she said very little. There was very little I could say in response to her praise, and we were perfectly content to remain in silence; Jane desired my company and I wished only to see her well - there was no real need for conversation.
After breakfast, the Bingley sisters joined us and I own that I was impressed by their kindness and caring towards Jane. They were very generous towards her and I was grateful for their solicitude. More particularly, I was grateful for their decision to send for the apothecary. Mr Jones reported that Jane had a violent cold, which is unsurprising given her recent exposure to the elements, and recommended that she remain in bed. He also promised to prescribe some draughts for her. Poor Jane did not object, for she was beginning to feel feverish again, and a headache had been troubling her for much of my visit. Naturally, I could not leave her.
It was with great reluctance that I prepared to return home when the clock struck three, for Jane was too ill for my comfort. Miss Bingley most graciously offered the use of the carriage, but Jane was so unsettled by the prospect of my leaving that she instead invited me to stay at Netherfield. As this allowed me to oversee Jane's recovery, I accepted and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn for my things.
Jane is sleeping now, thankfully, although she is still quite flushed. I suppose I shall have to attend dinner with the entire party this evening and leave her to her own devices, much as it will pain me to do so. It would be rude not to dine in their company though I would much rather attend to dear Jane.
Thursday, November 14th 1811
With great reluctance, I left Jane for dinner with our hosts at six o'clock last night. I will admit that it was not merely the worry of leaving Jane that left me so reticent, but also the prospect of an entire evening in the company of Mr Darcy as I know that he dislikes me. Mr Bingley's sisters had improved in my estimation, so it was only he who could have such an effect on me. I wish I knew why that was, for I have never cared for any man's opinion before now. Indeed, I wonder that I care for Mr Darcy's. It is most confusing.
Everyone enquired after Jane's health when I arrived at the drawing room, although Mr Bingley was by far the most concerned. It grieved me that I could not give them a more satisfactory answer, for his face fell when I announced that she was no better. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst were most sorry to hear of this and several times spoke of how they disliked being ill, and then thought no more of Jane for the rest of the evening. It was with mixed pleasure that I returned to regarding them with my former dislike, for in this instance I would have liked nothing more than to be proven wrong in my estimation of them. But it was not to be.
Throughout the course of the evening, I would have felt very much the intruder were it not for Mr Bingley's attentiveness and genial nature. He was quite clearly worried about my sister and made every effort to ensure my own comfort. No one else was at all interested in me. Miss Bingley was far too busy fawning over Mr Darcy to be interested in conversation, and Mrs Hurst was hardly any better. I was seated next to Mr Hurst, and once he discovered that I preferred plain food to a ragout, he did not see fit to speak to me. I was, of course, cut to the quick to be judged solely on my estimation of food, but it does appear that Mr Hurst's pleasures in life come in either the liquid or edible form.
In spite of this lack of attention, I found dinner to be quite revealing. It is clear that Miss Bingley fancies herself partial to Mr Darcy, and it is equally clear that Mr Darcy thinks otherwise. Oh, I do not say that he is rude to her; she is, after all, his friend's sister, and he always answered her remarks with complete civility, but he never invited anything more. Indeed, he appeared quite uncomfortable, at least in my estimation. It is true that it is very difficult to establish what he is feeling beneath that cold façade of his, but the difference in his attitude to Miss Bingley and his friendly conversation with Mr Bingley could not suggest anything other than frustration at her continuing attentions, surely? I was also amused at Mrs Hurst's simpering towards the great man himself. I do hope that I never fall so low as to make a fool of myself over a man. It is almost painful to watch, and yet, I found it to be rather addictive. Miss Bingley would fawn, Mrs Hurst would simper and Mr Darcy would ignore them both and sip his wine. But then, I suppose he is used to such attention. He is rumoured to be the wealthiest man in Derbyshire, and I am sure that there are plenty of women who find his material assets very attractive. I have no intention of flattering him though, material assets or no. He believes himself above my company and I have no desire for his. And if escaping from Mr Darcy means escaping from Mr Bingley's sisters, so much the better. Consequently, I excused myself from the dining room immediately after dinner and returned to Jane.
The respite was not for long though, as Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley came to sit with us immediately after they had left the dining room, some half an hour after I had adjourned myself. I am amazed by their dual natures; they are all concern when in Jane's presence, but away from her they spare her condition not a thought. They were soon summoned for coffee, thankfully, which I refused. Jane was still feverish and in truth I was worried about her. It was not until she was sleeping, late in the evening, that I returned to the assembled company, more out of duty than desire.
I discovered the whole party at loo on my arrival. They were obliged to invite me to join them, of course, but I have no doubt that the stakes were too high for my purse, and further, I had no real desire to entertain their company. I did not wish to leave Jane alone for too long, so instead I sat down to read a book. This astonished Mr Hurst, whom I discovered likes gambling almost as much as he does food and drink. He felt it was quite singular of me to 'prefer reading to cards', and Miss Bingley suggested that I enjoyed little other than reading. This is quite clearly a falsehood; whilst I enjoy a good book as much as the next person, I enjoy many things. I told her as much, for her remark was clearly a challenge to me. I fear she is one of those women who have to exert her superiority by belittling those she perceives as beneath her. The attention of the party turned away from me once I had located a book, and instead focused on Mr Bingley, who admitted that his own library was sadly lacking, leading his sister to compare his habits with those of Mr Darcy, and consequently Netherfield to Pemberley, which I understand is the name of Mr Darcy's estate. From Pemberley, we moved to a discussion of Miss Darcy, Mr Darcy's younger sister, who is apparently very accomplished, particularly on the pianoforte. How much of this is true, and how much of this is a result of Miss Bingley's embellishment I do not know. What interested me more was the resulting conversation on the values incumbent in an accomplished lady.
Dear Mr Bingley, in his exuberant way, explained how he believed all young ladies to be accomplished. Whilst I am beholden to suggest that this is a slight exaggeration, it is true that there are many young women who are proficient in some art of society or another. Mr Darcy, though, appears to be more discerning in his use of the label and, assisted by Miss Bingley, he asserted that such a woman must have a thorough knowledge of music and singing – how unfortunate for the tone deaf amongst us! – be proficient at drawing and dancing – there is no hope for those with two left feet, then – and also have a good command of foreign languages, which suggests that accomplishments are in direct proportion to wealth, for there are many who could not afford to have their daughters educated in foreign tongues. In addition to this they must possess a certain je ne sais quois – does my ability to speak French make me accomplished, do you think? – in their "air and manner of walking", to quote Miss Bingley. To this, Mr Darcy added 'something more substantial in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading'. I am not surprised that he only knows half a dozen such women, for I am sure that I do not know any who possess all of these talents and I aired this view. Miss Bingley naturally had to retaliate suggesting that I am too severe on my sex. I would suggest that she is the severe one, if she requires all this to make an accomplished woman. Both she and Mrs Hurst assert that there are many such women in their acquaintance, but I refuse to believe that they are so superlative in all of these areas. That they are able to execute them effectively, I do not doubt, but to be exceptional in all areas...that is a rare thing indeed. Soon after this discourse, I left their company, and only returned very briefly as Jane had taken a turn for the worse. Mr Bingley offered to send for Mr Jones, and I agreed that if Jane had not recovered by this morning then he would be sent for. Fortunately, she was improved by the time Mr Bingley inquired after her, and we are now awaiting a call from Mama to establish whether it would be possible to return to Longbourn .
I have never in my life been so embarrassed! Mama was truly unbelievable in her behaviour towards Mr Darcy, and scarcely less vulgar in her attentions to Mr Bingley, though it pains me to say so. She believes that Jane is far too ill to be moved – and indeed, that is probably correct – and made much of the fact that we would have to trespass on Mr Bingley's kindness for a while longer, and then continued to wax lyrical about how very ill Jane was. I do not disagree with her assessment, but it was unnecessary for her to make so much of it, especially when the whole company is well aware of Jane's situation. And then, to compound my embarrassment, she informed Mr Bingley that neither Kitty, Mary, Lydia nor me were anything in comparison to Jane. This may be true, but it is not the thing to say in polite company. I fear that she spends too long gossiping with my aunt to realise just how her actions can be interpreted. She chastised me for trying to salvage the situation – helped out by Mr Bingley, who is growing daily in my estimation – and then railed at Mr Darcy when he commented that country society was limited. For once, I believe he was actually trying to be of use; no doubt he was embarrassed by Mama's speeches, but she would insist on refuting his assertions and announced to all and sundry that we dine with four-and-twenty families. I saw Miss Bingley's reaction, and it was mortifying. I did my best to divert Mama, but all my mention of Charlotte did was allow Mama to ramble on about how plain Charlotte was and how unfortunate Lady Lucas was that Charlotte was not married and how her daughters did not have to work in the kitchens, for we have servants, and she then compounded the problem by comparing poor Charlotte's looks with Jane's. It was painfully obvious that she was attempting to match Mr Bingley with my sister - I do not believe that there can be any doubt of that.
When Mama had quite finished with her rampage of ill-thought remarks, it was Lydia's turn to disgrace me, and this she achieved by demanding a ball of Mr Bingley! A ball, while Jane was lying upstairs ill! Mr Bingley responded well, even going so far as allowing Lydia to specify the date once Jane was well, but the damage was done.
Friday, 15th November 1811
After the events of Mama's visit yesterday, we spent our time much as we had on Wednesday. Jane continued to improve, and Mr Bingley's sisters once again spent some time with her. In the evening, I joined the party in the drawing room once more. The loo table did not appear though. Mr Darcy appeared to be writing a letter to his sister, and Miss Bingley was distracting him as often as possible. He bore her interjections with an equanimity that surprised me, although as she is his hostess, I suppose politeness demanded that he remain civil. Mr Hurst and Mr Bingley were playing piquet, and surprisingly, Mrs Hurst was watching them. Perhaps she was not so interested in Mr Darcy's fine even hand as Miss Bingley appeared to be.
Once again, Mr Darcy and I engaged in a verbal duel, this time over the nature of Mr Bingley's character. Mr Darcy, you see, believes that his friend's humility with regard to his own handwriting – which is apparently unintelligible – is, in fact, an indirect form of boasting. Whilst their argument was intriguing, I felt compelled to rise to Mr Bingley's defence, which led to a standoff between Mr Darcy and myself. Eventually, Mr Bingley intervened, and the argument concluded without any bloodshed.
Mr Bingley then took it upon himself to request that his sisters and I provide the company with some musical entertainment. Following the usual dance of courtesies, Miss Bingley offered the opportunity to play first to me; I deferred, she acceded. The fact that she was already halfway to the pianoforte meant that any other decision on my part would have been ill- bred is irrelevant. So, whilst Miss Bingley played, and Mrs Hurst sang, I considered the scores available. I had located Mozart's Viennese Sonatas, and was considering those, when I felt a prickling on the back of my neck. Covertly, I made an effort to see what was causing this, and there was Mr Darcy, staring at me with an almost frightening intensity. Quite what it was that caused him to stare so, I do not know. I could not possibly be an object for his admiration, he had been perfectly clear on that score, but to have him looking at me because he disliked me seemed strange, to say the least. I must conclude that I was the most reprehensible person in the room in his eyes, hence his preoccupation with my appearance. I was not terribly concerned by this, for I care nothing for his opinion.
However, then he surprised me. Miss Bingley had been playing some Italian love songs – unsurprising, given her obsession with 'dear Mr Darcy', but she had selected a Scottish Air to break the monotony. She had not been playing for long when Mr Darcy approached me and offered to dance a reel with me! I would not allow his actions to disconcert me, though; he was clearly trying to despise my taste if I said yes, so I declined. He was very gallant in response to my refusal, which surprised me as I had expected him to be affronted. But then, Mr Darcy is supposed to be a gentleman, so perhaps it is not so surprising after all.
Saturday, 16th November
Jane left her chamber yesterday evening, to my great delight, and I am now entertaining the hope that she will be well enough to return home today. After dinner, Jane came to the drawing room and I have never seen Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst so agreeable. Undoubtedly they were pleased because her recovery meant that our departure was imminent, for I cannot credit that they would have any real joy in Jane's recovery given their indifference to her when they are not with her. Even so, it was easy for me to appreciate how they could gain friends in the ton, they are certainly charming women when they have a mind to be. Then the gentlemen appeared, and the amiability of the company was reduced, as Mr Bingley's sisters were far more interested in Mr Darcy than in Jane. Mr Bingley made up for this, I believe, for he was full of very genuine joy at her recovery, and spent quite half an hour ascertaining Jane's comfort.
It was some time later that Miss Bingley surprised me in asking me to take a turn around the room with her. She was quite clearly bored with the situation; I believe she was only attempting to read because Mr Darcy was – and no doubt because of Mr Darcy's words on the importance of reading in an accomplished woman – and she gave up in favour of walking. Not that her movement attracted Mr Darcy's attention, which was undoubtedly her aim given the covert glances she aimed at him through her eyelashes. No doubt she thought it was sweet, but to my mind, it was repulsive. Why must women throw themselves in the path of men of fortune? I am sure they prefer a woman's natural manner to those she affects in an effort to catch them. Besides, it is misleading to allow a man to assume that you are one thing when in fact you are quite another. But I digress; Mr Darcy did not notice Miss Bingley's machinations, or at least, he did not acknowledge them, and so she invited me to join her. There was nothing for me to do other than to agree; one simply does not refuse one's hostess in these matters. Strangely, my admittance to her company drew Mr Darcy's attention – he was probably well aware of her dislike of me, and consequently surprised by our apparent intimacy – and Miss Bingley invited him to join our party. He declined. Apparently our behaviour suggested either that we were engaged in exchanging confidences – Miss Bingley and me, exchanging confidences? – or that we were trying to display our figures to their best possible advantage! Well, Miss Bingley affected her false incredulity, and suggested that we punish him. In my experience, our best solution would be to laugh at him, but Miss Bingley declared that such an action was impossible for Mr Darcy is a "man without fault". He refuted such a claim, but stated that he did his utmost to avoid weaknesses of the human character. Such as pride and vanity, I suggested. He said that vanity was indeed a weakness, but that pride was acceptable if kept in regulation. From this, I believe he thinks he is in control of his pride, which is, in my opinion, not the case. He did own that he has a resentful temper, and that his friendship once lost is lost forever. But that is not a fault that can be laughed at. He suggested that everybody has some defect that education cannot overcome, and that mine was to wilfully misunderstand everyone. This in response to my suggestion that he has a propensity to hate everyone! I believe Miss Bingley was quite unnerved by our conversation, for she had no part in it, which was her aim in gaining his attention after all, and with that in mind, she proposed that her sister entertain us with some music.
I have written to Mama to request that they send a carriage from Longbourn, but it is not forthcoming. Apparently it cannot be spared, but if I know Mama it is much more likely that she does not want Jane to leave Netherfield before Tuesday – she has allowed that we can have the carriage then – and is merely creating an excuse to effect such an occurrence. Jane and I therefore agreed to request that we might borrow Mr Bingley's carriage with the intention of leaving today. Mr Bingley pressed us to remain until tomorrow though, and Jane felt it best that we accept. I shall be here for only one more day, and then we shall return to Longbourn. Nothing could make me happier. The same cannot be said for Mr Bingley, who is very concerned about Jane and wants her to stay longer, but we refuse to inconvenience them for any longer than is strictly necessary. No doubt Mama will be vexed at our decision to take matters into our own hands, but then it is her own fault, for while she may wish to throw Jane in Mr Bingley's path, Jane wishes only to return home and be with our family again. I confess that my feelings coincide with hers.
Sunday, 17th November 1811
We are finally home! Papa is extremely pleased that we have returned and I fear he has secluded himself in the library for the majority of our absence. I do not blame him as Lydia and Kitty are still speaking only of redcoats, and Mary is bent on sermonising, not to mention Mama's nerves. If Papa is pleased to see us, there is no doubt that we are pleased to have returned. Is it really only four days that we were away? It seems like an eternity. I was relieved to be free of most of the Netherfield party – Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst and their condescension, Mr Hurst and his port, Mr Darcy and his pride – indeed, I feel sorry for Mr Bingley who has to live with them all! I could not be so charitable as he! In that, and many other regards, he is the perfect match for my dear Jane.
Yesterday saw more odd behaviour from Mr Darcy. I have now become so loathsome that he cannot bear to even look at me. We were alone together for half an hour in the library, and he barely acknowledged me. I was not upset by his lack of discourse – after the common courtesies were observed, he studiously ignored me. I wonder what I have done to cause this sudden change in behaviour, not that it concerns me overly much. Men of great fortune can, after all, afford to give offence wherever they go. Then again, I am but a country girl, and clearly below his notice. But he is definitely an enigma, one day staring, the next day not. I do not think that my behaviour has changed in any way, so the problem must lie with him. Fortunately, his lack of conversation suited me, as I wished to enjoy Milton uninterrupted. Still, I was quite relieved when Jane came and took me from his presence.
We sat with the Netherfield party at church this morning, as it seemed only polite. I was amused by the varying levels of devotion that they displayed. Mr Darcy seemed to be devout; he scarcely needed his prayer book, and sang very well. Mr Bingley treated the service as he treats everything; that is to say, he enjoyed it, although I suspect he was more interested in taking in my sister's looks than listening to the vicar's sermon. Mr Hurst appeared to fall asleep after the Gospel, and Mrs Hurst spent most of the service elbowing him to ensure he stood up at the appropriate times. As for Miss Bingley, well, she spent most of the service complaining about the cold, the hardness of the seats, and the dullness of the sermon. I was very tempted to stuff my handkerchief into her mouth, as we used to do to poor Mary when we were younger and did not know better, but I am aware that such behaviour now would be reprehensible. Not that Miss Bingley would not have deserved it; it is clear that she views the church as a way of keeping up appearances and allowing the masses to feast on the benevolence of the gentry. And she certainly looked the part, with her feathers and her ridiculously adorned dress, nose up in the air. It was almost comical. I pray that I shall never look like that, not that it is likely. There are precious few beacons of society who would marry someone with a mere fifty pounds for a dowry, and I am sure that most of those would not respect me, nor would I love them. I will probably die an old maid. I would rather that than marry for anything other than love.
Poor Jane! I am so very vexed with Mama for dearest Jane is presently lying ill here at Netherfield, and Mama is pleased about this situation! It is insupportable! We knew that Jane could not return to Longbourn last night because of the weather, but this morning I received a letter from her, attempting to belittle her illness and ease any worry I might have had for her. To me it was obvious that she would appreciate a familiar face, and indeed, I will admit to being concerned about Miss Bingley's effectiveness as a nurse, given her distaste for life in Hertfordshire. She simply does not seem to be the type of person who would appreciate looking after a patient. I was therefore determined to visit Netherfield and ascertain Jane's state for myself. Mama was extremely vexed to learn of my intention, and moreso following her understanding that I intended to walk the three miles rather than put Papa out by making use of our carriage. I would not be fit to be seen, she said. My only desire was to see Jane, though, and Jane cares little about a spattering of mud on the hem of one's petticoat. It is a pity that such cannot be said of other ladies of our acquaintance.
On my arrival at Netherfield, I was shown to the breakfast parlour. I will own that I was very aware that muddy did not do justice to the state of my skirts – yesterday's rainfall had left the fields particularly dirty, but I had no intention of allowing that to deter me from my aim. Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley were all astonishment at my endeavour, and I feel that I would not be lying if I said that they were unimpressed by my appearance. Mr Bingley, however, was all charm, and exceedingly worried about dear Jane, which naturally recommended him to me. He was very kind, whereas his sisters were polite, but no more so than propriety demanded. As for Mr Darcy... Mr Darcy said very little, but I fear he was more inclined to support the sisters than their amiable brother. As for Mr Hurst, he was more interested in the coddled eggs than my arrival, and said not one thing to me in the entirety of the interview. If Mrs Hurst were not such a disagreeable person, one would almost feel sorry for her. As it is, I doubt that she notices her husband's inattention, for she is far too busy belittling all those who cross her way.
When I was finally shown to Jane, I was most concerned, for, in truth, she is really quite poorly. It was clear that she had hoped for my visit, and I was glad that I had ignored Mama's warnings and made the effort to come. Poor Jane was too ill to converse much though, and beyond expressing her gratitude towards Mr Bingley and his sister for their kindness in hosting her, she said very little. There was very little I could say in response to her praise, and we were perfectly content to remain in silence; Jane desired my company and I wished only to see her well - there was no real need for conversation.
After breakfast, the Bingley sisters joined us and I own that I was impressed by their kindness and caring towards Jane. They were very generous towards her and I was grateful for their solicitude. More particularly, I was grateful for their decision to send for the apothecary. Mr Jones reported that Jane had a violent cold, which is unsurprising given her recent exposure to the elements, and recommended that she remain in bed. He also promised to prescribe some draughts for her. Poor Jane did not object, for she was beginning to feel feverish again, and a headache had been troubling her for much of my visit. Naturally, I could not leave her.
It was with great reluctance that I prepared to return home when the clock struck three, for Jane was too ill for my comfort. Miss Bingley most graciously offered the use of the carriage, but Jane was so unsettled by the prospect of my leaving that she instead invited me to stay at Netherfield. As this allowed me to oversee Jane's recovery, I accepted and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn for my things.
Jane is sleeping now, thankfully, although she is still quite flushed. I suppose I shall have to attend dinner with the entire party this evening and leave her to her own devices, much as it will pain me to do so. It would be rude not to dine in their company though I would much rather attend to dear Jane.
Thursday, November 14th 1811
With great reluctance, I left Jane for dinner with our hosts at six o'clock last night. I will admit that it was not merely the worry of leaving Jane that left me so reticent, but also the prospect of an entire evening in the company of Mr Darcy as I know that he dislikes me. Mr Bingley's sisters had improved in my estimation, so it was only he who could have such an effect on me. I wish I knew why that was, for I have never cared for any man's opinion before now. Indeed, I wonder that I care for Mr Darcy's. It is most confusing.
Everyone enquired after Jane's health when I arrived at the drawing room, although Mr Bingley was by far the most concerned. It grieved me that I could not give them a more satisfactory answer, for his face fell when I announced that she was no better. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst were most sorry to hear of this and several times spoke of how they disliked being ill, and then thought no more of Jane for the rest of the evening. It was with mixed pleasure that I returned to regarding them with my former dislike, for in this instance I would have liked nothing more than to be proven wrong in my estimation of them. But it was not to be.
Throughout the course of the evening, I would have felt very much the intruder were it not for Mr Bingley's attentiveness and genial nature. He was quite clearly worried about my sister and made every effort to ensure my own comfort. No one else was at all interested in me. Miss Bingley was far too busy fawning over Mr Darcy to be interested in conversation, and Mrs Hurst was hardly any better. I was seated next to Mr Hurst, and once he discovered that I preferred plain food to a ragout, he did not see fit to speak to me. I was, of course, cut to the quick to be judged solely on my estimation of food, but it does appear that Mr Hurst's pleasures in life come in either the liquid or edible form.
In spite of this lack of attention, I found dinner to be quite revealing. It is clear that Miss Bingley fancies herself partial to Mr Darcy, and it is equally clear that Mr Darcy thinks otherwise. Oh, I do not say that he is rude to her; she is, after all, his friend's sister, and he always answered her remarks with complete civility, but he never invited anything more. Indeed, he appeared quite uncomfortable, at least in my estimation. It is true that it is very difficult to establish what he is feeling beneath that cold façade of his, but the difference in his attitude to Miss Bingley and his friendly conversation with Mr Bingley could not suggest anything other than frustration at her continuing attentions, surely? I was also amused at Mrs Hurst's simpering towards the great man himself. I do hope that I never fall so low as to make a fool of myself over a man. It is almost painful to watch, and yet, I found it to be rather addictive. Miss Bingley would fawn, Mrs Hurst would simper and Mr Darcy would ignore them both and sip his wine. But then, I suppose he is used to such attention. He is rumoured to be the wealthiest man in Derbyshire, and I am sure that there are plenty of women who find his material assets very attractive. I have no intention of flattering him though, material assets or no. He believes himself above my company and I have no desire for his. And if escaping from Mr Darcy means escaping from Mr Bingley's sisters, so much the better. Consequently, I excused myself from the dining room immediately after dinner and returned to Jane.
The respite was not for long though, as Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley came to sit with us immediately after they had left the dining room, some half an hour after I had adjourned myself. I am amazed by their dual natures; they are all concern when in Jane's presence, but away from her they spare her condition not a thought. They were soon summoned for coffee, thankfully, which I refused. Jane was still feverish and in truth I was worried about her. It was not until she was sleeping, late in the evening, that I returned to the assembled company, more out of duty than desire.
I discovered the whole party at loo on my arrival. They were obliged to invite me to join them, of course, but I have no doubt that the stakes were too high for my purse, and further, I had no real desire to entertain their company. I did not wish to leave Jane alone for too long, so instead I sat down to read a book. This astonished Mr Hurst, whom I discovered likes gambling almost as much as he does food and drink. He felt it was quite singular of me to 'prefer reading to cards', and Miss Bingley suggested that I enjoyed little other than reading. This is quite clearly a falsehood; whilst I enjoy a good book as much as the next person, I enjoy many things. I told her as much, for her remark was clearly a challenge to me. I fear she is one of those women who have to exert her superiority by belittling those she perceives as beneath her. The attention of the party turned away from me once I had located a book, and instead focused on Mr Bingley, who admitted that his own library was sadly lacking, leading his sister to compare his habits with those of Mr Darcy, and consequently Netherfield to Pemberley, which I understand is the name of Mr Darcy's estate. From Pemberley, we moved to a discussion of Miss Darcy, Mr Darcy's younger sister, who is apparently very accomplished, particularly on the pianoforte. How much of this is true, and how much of this is a result of Miss Bingley's embellishment I do not know. What interested me more was the resulting conversation on the values incumbent in an accomplished lady.
Dear Mr Bingley, in his exuberant way, explained how he believed all young ladies to be accomplished. Whilst I am beholden to suggest that this is a slight exaggeration, it is true that there are many young women who are proficient in some art of society or another. Mr Darcy, though, appears to be more discerning in his use of the label and, assisted by Miss Bingley, he asserted that such a woman must have a thorough knowledge of music and singing – how unfortunate for the tone deaf amongst us! – be proficient at drawing and dancing – there is no hope for those with two left feet, then – and also have a good command of foreign languages, which suggests that accomplishments are in direct proportion to wealth, for there are many who could not afford to have their daughters educated in foreign tongues. In addition to this they must possess a certain je ne sais quois – does my ability to speak French make me accomplished, do you think? – in their "air and manner of walking", to quote Miss Bingley. To this, Mr Darcy added 'something more substantial in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading'. I am not surprised that he only knows half a dozen such women, for I am sure that I do not know any who possess all of these talents and I aired this view. Miss Bingley naturally had to retaliate suggesting that I am too severe on my sex. I would suggest that she is the severe one, if she requires all this to make an accomplished woman. Both she and Mrs Hurst assert that there are many such women in their acquaintance, but I refuse to believe that they are so superlative in all of these areas. That they are able to execute them effectively, I do not doubt, but to be exceptional in all areas...that is a rare thing indeed. Soon after this discourse, I left their company, and only returned very briefly as Jane had taken a turn for the worse. Mr Bingley offered to send for Mr Jones, and I agreed that if Jane had not recovered by this morning then he would be sent for. Fortunately, she was improved by the time Mr Bingley inquired after her, and we are now awaiting a call from Mama to establish whether it would be possible to return to Longbourn .
I have never in my life been so embarrassed! Mama was truly unbelievable in her behaviour towards Mr Darcy, and scarcely less vulgar in her attentions to Mr Bingley, though it pains me to say so. She believes that Jane is far too ill to be moved – and indeed, that is probably correct – and made much of the fact that we would have to trespass on Mr Bingley's kindness for a while longer, and then continued to wax lyrical about how very ill Jane was. I do not disagree with her assessment, but it was unnecessary for her to make so much of it, especially when the whole company is well aware of Jane's situation. And then, to compound my embarrassment, she informed Mr Bingley that neither Kitty, Mary, Lydia nor me were anything in comparison to Jane. This may be true, but it is not the thing to say in polite company. I fear that she spends too long gossiping with my aunt to realise just how her actions can be interpreted. She chastised me for trying to salvage the situation – helped out by Mr Bingley, who is growing daily in my estimation – and then railed at Mr Darcy when he commented that country society was limited. For once, I believe he was actually trying to be of use; no doubt he was embarrassed by Mama's speeches, but she would insist on refuting his assertions and announced to all and sundry that we dine with four-and-twenty families. I saw Miss Bingley's reaction, and it was mortifying. I did my best to divert Mama, but all my mention of Charlotte did was allow Mama to ramble on about how plain Charlotte was and how unfortunate Lady Lucas was that Charlotte was not married and how her daughters did not have to work in the kitchens, for we have servants, and she then compounded the problem by comparing poor Charlotte's looks with Jane's. It was painfully obvious that she was attempting to match Mr Bingley with my sister - I do not believe that there can be any doubt of that.
When Mama had quite finished with her rampage of ill-thought remarks, it was Lydia's turn to disgrace me, and this she achieved by demanding a ball of Mr Bingley! A ball, while Jane was lying upstairs ill! Mr Bingley responded well, even going so far as allowing Lydia to specify the date once Jane was well, but the damage was done.
Friday, 15th November 1811
After the events of Mama's visit yesterday, we spent our time much as we had on Wednesday. Jane continued to improve, and Mr Bingley's sisters once again spent some time with her. In the evening, I joined the party in the drawing room once more. The loo table did not appear though. Mr Darcy appeared to be writing a letter to his sister, and Miss Bingley was distracting him as often as possible. He bore her interjections with an equanimity that surprised me, although as she is his hostess, I suppose politeness demanded that he remain civil. Mr Hurst and Mr Bingley were playing piquet, and surprisingly, Mrs Hurst was watching them. Perhaps she was not so interested in Mr Darcy's fine even hand as Miss Bingley appeared to be.
Once again, Mr Darcy and I engaged in a verbal duel, this time over the nature of Mr Bingley's character. Mr Darcy, you see, believes that his friend's humility with regard to his own handwriting – which is apparently unintelligible – is, in fact, an indirect form of boasting. Whilst their argument was intriguing, I felt compelled to rise to Mr Bingley's defence, which led to a standoff between Mr Darcy and myself. Eventually, Mr Bingley intervened, and the argument concluded without any bloodshed.
Mr Bingley then took it upon himself to request that his sisters and I provide the company with some musical entertainment. Following the usual dance of courtesies, Miss Bingley offered the opportunity to play first to me; I deferred, she acceded. The fact that she was already halfway to the pianoforte meant that any other decision on my part would have been ill- bred is irrelevant. So, whilst Miss Bingley played, and Mrs Hurst sang, I considered the scores available. I had located Mozart's Viennese Sonatas, and was considering those, when I felt a prickling on the back of my neck. Covertly, I made an effort to see what was causing this, and there was Mr Darcy, staring at me with an almost frightening intensity. Quite what it was that caused him to stare so, I do not know. I could not possibly be an object for his admiration, he had been perfectly clear on that score, but to have him looking at me because he disliked me seemed strange, to say the least. I must conclude that I was the most reprehensible person in the room in his eyes, hence his preoccupation with my appearance. I was not terribly concerned by this, for I care nothing for his opinion.
However, then he surprised me. Miss Bingley had been playing some Italian love songs – unsurprising, given her obsession with 'dear Mr Darcy', but she had selected a Scottish Air to break the monotony. She had not been playing for long when Mr Darcy approached me and offered to dance a reel with me! I would not allow his actions to disconcert me, though; he was clearly trying to despise my taste if I said yes, so I declined. He was very gallant in response to my refusal, which surprised me as I had expected him to be affronted. But then, Mr Darcy is supposed to be a gentleman, so perhaps it is not so surprising after all.
Saturday, 16th November
Jane left her chamber yesterday evening, to my great delight, and I am now entertaining the hope that she will be well enough to return home today. After dinner, Jane came to the drawing room and I have never seen Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst so agreeable. Undoubtedly they were pleased because her recovery meant that our departure was imminent, for I cannot credit that they would have any real joy in Jane's recovery given their indifference to her when they are not with her. Even so, it was easy for me to appreciate how they could gain friends in the ton, they are certainly charming women when they have a mind to be. Then the gentlemen appeared, and the amiability of the company was reduced, as Mr Bingley's sisters were far more interested in Mr Darcy than in Jane. Mr Bingley made up for this, I believe, for he was full of very genuine joy at her recovery, and spent quite half an hour ascertaining Jane's comfort.
It was some time later that Miss Bingley surprised me in asking me to take a turn around the room with her. She was quite clearly bored with the situation; I believe she was only attempting to read because Mr Darcy was – and no doubt because of Mr Darcy's words on the importance of reading in an accomplished woman – and she gave up in favour of walking. Not that her movement attracted Mr Darcy's attention, which was undoubtedly her aim given the covert glances she aimed at him through her eyelashes. No doubt she thought it was sweet, but to my mind, it was repulsive. Why must women throw themselves in the path of men of fortune? I am sure they prefer a woman's natural manner to those she affects in an effort to catch them. Besides, it is misleading to allow a man to assume that you are one thing when in fact you are quite another. But I digress; Mr Darcy did not notice Miss Bingley's machinations, or at least, he did not acknowledge them, and so she invited me to join her. There was nothing for me to do other than to agree; one simply does not refuse one's hostess in these matters. Strangely, my admittance to her company drew Mr Darcy's attention – he was probably well aware of her dislike of me, and consequently surprised by our apparent intimacy – and Miss Bingley invited him to join our party. He declined. Apparently our behaviour suggested either that we were engaged in exchanging confidences – Miss Bingley and me, exchanging confidences? – or that we were trying to display our figures to their best possible advantage! Well, Miss Bingley affected her false incredulity, and suggested that we punish him. In my experience, our best solution would be to laugh at him, but Miss Bingley declared that such an action was impossible for Mr Darcy is a "man without fault". He refuted such a claim, but stated that he did his utmost to avoid weaknesses of the human character. Such as pride and vanity, I suggested. He said that vanity was indeed a weakness, but that pride was acceptable if kept in regulation. From this, I believe he thinks he is in control of his pride, which is, in my opinion, not the case. He did own that he has a resentful temper, and that his friendship once lost is lost forever. But that is not a fault that can be laughed at. He suggested that everybody has some defect that education cannot overcome, and that mine was to wilfully misunderstand everyone. This in response to my suggestion that he has a propensity to hate everyone! I believe Miss Bingley was quite unnerved by our conversation, for she had no part in it, which was her aim in gaining his attention after all, and with that in mind, she proposed that her sister entertain us with some music.
I have written to Mama to request that they send a carriage from Longbourn, but it is not forthcoming. Apparently it cannot be spared, but if I know Mama it is much more likely that she does not want Jane to leave Netherfield before Tuesday – she has allowed that we can have the carriage then – and is merely creating an excuse to effect such an occurrence. Jane and I therefore agreed to request that we might borrow Mr Bingley's carriage with the intention of leaving today. Mr Bingley pressed us to remain until tomorrow though, and Jane felt it best that we accept. I shall be here for only one more day, and then we shall return to Longbourn. Nothing could make me happier. The same cannot be said for Mr Bingley, who is very concerned about Jane and wants her to stay longer, but we refuse to inconvenience them for any longer than is strictly necessary. No doubt Mama will be vexed at our decision to take matters into our own hands, but then it is her own fault, for while she may wish to throw Jane in Mr Bingley's path, Jane wishes only to return home and be with our family again. I confess that my feelings coincide with hers.
Sunday, 17th November 1811
We are finally home! Papa is extremely pleased that we have returned and I fear he has secluded himself in the library for the majority of our absence. I do not blame him as Lydia and Kitty are still speaking only of redcoats, and Mary is bent on sermonising, not to mention Mama's nerves. If Papa is pleased to see us, there is no doubt that we are pleased to have returned. Is it really only four days that we were away? It seems like an eternity. I was relieved to be free of most of the Netherfield party – Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst and their condescension, Mr Hurst and his port, Mr Darcy and his pride – indeed, I feel sorry for Mr Bingley who has to live with them all! I could not be so charitable as he! In that, and many other regards, he is the perfect match for my dear Jane.
Yesterday saw more odd behaviour from Mr Darcy. I have now become so loathsome that he cannot bear to even look at me. We were alone together for half an hour in the library, and he barely acknowledged me. I was not upset by his lack of discourse – after the common courtesies were observed, he studiously ignored me. I wonder what I have done to cause this sudden change in behaviour, not that it concerns me overly much. Men of great fortune can, after all, afford to give offence wherever they go. Then again, I am but a country girl, and clearly below his notice. But he is definitely an enigma, one day staring, the next day not. I do not think that my behaviour has changed in any way, so the problem must lie with him. Fortunately, his lack of conversation suited me, as I wished to enjoy Milton uninterrupted. Still, I was quite relieved when Jane came and took me from his presence.
We sat with the Netherfield party at church this morning, as it seemed only polite. I was amused by the varying levels of devotion that they displayed. Mr Darcy seemed to be devout; he scarcely needed his prayer book, and sang very well. Mr Bingley treated the service as he treats everything; that is to say, he enjoyed it, although I suspect he was more interested in taking in my sister's looks than listening to the vicar's sermon. Mr Hurst appeared to fall asleep after the Gospel, and Mrs Hurst spent most of the service elbowing him to ensure he stood up at the appropriate times. As for Miss Bingley, well, she spent most of the service complaining about the cold, the hardness of the seats, and the dullness of the sermon. I was very tempted to stuff my handkerchief into her mouth, as we used to do to poor Mary when we were younger and did not know better, but I am aware that such behaviour now would be reprehensible. Not that Miss Bingley would not have deserved it; it is clear that she views the church as a way of keeping up appearances and allowing the masses to feast on the benevolence of the gentry. And she certainly looked the part, with her feathers and her ridiculously adorned dress, nose up in the air. It was almost comical. I pray that I shall never look like that, not that it is likely. There are precious few beacons of society who would marry someone with a mere fifty pounds for a dowry, and I am sure that most of those would not respect me, nor would I love them. I will probably die an old maid. I would rather that than marry for anything other than love.