After Mary had performed the small task her mother gave her, she returned
to her father's library, hoping to hear the rest of his narrative.
"Oh! Here you are then!" he said. "And what did your mother find for you to do this time?"
"I just had to run down to Lucas Lodge with a message for Lady Lucas, Father," explained Mary. "Will you continue what you were telling me, if you please?"
"But of course. Who would you like me to tell you of now?"
Mary thought. "Hmmmm... I am interested to hear of the Guildfords."
"Then the Guildfords it shall be. Well, my dear, Sir Edward is a lot like your uncle Gardiner; very amiable and well-favoured. He is a very enthusiastic gentleman, and his wife, Lady Guildford, is a lot like him. Very happy, very positive. They are both sure that they will love Hertfordshire, and have already promised me a ball, which, as you may imagine, gratified me deeply," he finished dryly.
Mary laughed. "Of course, that was the first thought that sprang to mind! I should as soon say that Mother would be excessively disappointed by the news!"
He chuckled. "Yes, yes, Mary. Shall I continue? Yes well, I met all of the Guildfords' seven children, and in general they seem to be a delightful family. The eldest is a very fashionable fellow, or so I hear, and very popular in town, so you would have thought that to be spending his winter in a small area like Meryton would have disgusted him greatly, but he is all eagerness and exuberance; quite a strange thing for a man his age! The next eldest is a quiet young man bent on reading, obviously very thoughtful and intelligent, but a little too unsociable for my tastes. The next is a young woman, Miss Annabel Guildford, about your age, I should think. She is a very handsome, sweet sort of girl, a little like Jane, I believe, but more animated. She has a most beautiful laugh. Helena Guildford is the next eldest. She is just as any other girl her age, I think. She has a lot of confidence and is quite an appealing girl. I believe-"
But at this point he was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Yes?" he answered.
Hill opened the door. "Mr Nesbit, Mr Milne, Mr Hildesly and Mr Alcott, sir."
Four gentlemen walked into the library, obviously the new Netherfield tenants, thought Mary. She curtsied shyly, still unused to trying to make a good impression on men.
"Good morning, gentlemen," said Mr Bennet. "It's a pleasure to see you. Please sit down." He gave Mary a sly wink. "Let me introduce my daughter Mary."
The men bowed as Mr Bennet introduced each one to Mary. Mr Nesbit was a short, nondescript sort of man with orange hair and a pleasant countenance. He had nothing of the handsome features which Mr Bingley had been favoured with, but had an agreeable air about him. He smiled and nodded at Mary. Mr Hildesly smiled and shook Mary's hand most warmly when they were introduced. He was, like Mr Nesbit, not at all handsome, but he had an electric sort of personality which recommended itself to a stranger directly. His happy manners reminded Mary a lot of Jane's Mr Bingley, but he seemed to be more switched-on. Mary suspected that he probably did not have Bingley's pleasant but gullible tendency to believe that all of the world was good - despite the exuberance that shone from him, he had a calm and measuring eye if one looked closely. The next gentleman to be introduced was Mr Milne, the needle-witted fellow that Mr Bennet had felt sleepy beside. He talked fast and sensibly, and shook hands with both father and daughter briskly. He had a thin moustache and glasses, and sat straight up like a poker, as alert as a meercat. The last person to be introduced to Mary was the handsome Mr Alcott, who was quite as Mary had imagined him to be. He was dark and brooding, and seemed to wear a permanent grimace. One could imagine him as the nemesis in any gory novel. However, he was so very handsome that Mary began to think that maybe he wasn't so bad after all; that is, until he was introduced to her. He simply scowled and gave her a stiff bow. Mary smiled sweetly in return, her eyes showing all her amusement at his arrogant demeanour. One admirable thing about Mary while she was still the pious little hypocrite was that she didn't care a jot whether people were rude to her or not, and she had not lost this quality. Mr Alcott seemed a little surprised and offended at her laughing eyes, and was even more so when Mr Bennet gave a short laugh and winked at his middle daughter. He folded his arms, crossed his legs, and planted a look of such transparent disdain on his face that it took all of Mary's self control to stop laughter from breaking out of her lungs.
The visit was not long, as the group had to go and return the visits of many other people that morning, but before they went, Mr Nesbit asked if they could wander the garden of which they had heard so much. Here Mary blushed a little, and was proud, for she had spent all her free time tending to the garden for the past few months, and even she had to admit to herself that it was much improved. She was gratified when her father said in reply, "Yes the gardens have become lovely since Mary here started investing her time in them. If you wish, she will show you around them."
"Oh, we would not bother you so, Miss Bennet," said Mr Hildesly cordially. "It is a chilly day out, so we will show ourselves around."
Mary was pleased to disclaim the arduous task of showing the gentlemen around; it was not quite yet the most comfortable thing in the world to make conversation with four perfect strangers, especially when they were all male. However, she did wish to know what they thought of her garden, so she went to sit in the small conservatory with a mischievous smile on her face, sheltered from view of the four men, but in a good place so as to hear everything they said while walking in the garden.
When they had slowly made their way to the garden outside the conservatory, she heard the voice of Mr Hildesly, and her heart warmed towards him at his words. "She must be very skilled to create a lovely garden such as this."
"Do you really think so, Richard?" came Mr Alcott's dry voice. "I had not thought you so gullible! That girl did no more on this garden than you or I did; depend upon it, it was a gardener."
You can understand Mary's anger at these words. But she made no movement, only straining to hear more.
"I shall never understand why you are so skeptical of everything and everyone, Matthew," complained Mr Hildesly. "You never seem to believe anything that anyone says. Why? What is your reason?"
"And I shall never understand why you are so oblivious to any efforts to entangle you, Richard," drifted back the voice of Mr Alcott. "Too often have I been in the situation when some young woman or another throws out their lures to try and trap my fortune. And by such a girl as this Miss Bennet!"
"What do you mean?" demanded Mr Hildesly.
"What do I mean?" Mr Alcott cracked out a dry laugh. "I mean, my dear Richard, that she is a common, vulgar sort of girl with dreary looks and features who can only suffer shaking our hands because we have fortunes far higher than she can ever dream of."
"You are mistaken, Alcott," said the sharp voice of Mr Milne. "She is just a friendly, normal sort of girl."
"Maybe to you," snapped back Mr Alcott. "You are already married. What hope can she have of securing you? I am persuaded that she is a twitty, plain girl with no features to recommend her but her supposed gardening skills."
"I think..." said Mr Hildesly slowly, "that you are angered because she laughed at you, Matthew."
"Shall we go?" was all Mr Alcott said.
The men walked off, and Mary sat in the conservatory, hot tears springing to her eyes. How dare he! How dare he! She was absolutely furious. Because she had the sense to only laugh at his supercilious ways, he felt bound to insult her on everything he could possibly think of about her! She was disgusted with him. She did smile a little as she thought about Mr Hildesly's kind remarks on her behalf, but as for Mr Alcott - she resolved never to laugh at him again; from now on, the only emotion he would find in her icy blue eyes would be coldness. She wiped her eyes and ran upstairs to her bedchamber, pulling out her Bible and reading her favourite passages to comfort her, scribbling down furious paragraphs in her diary at the horridness of Mr Alcott, and finally throwing punches at her pillow, imagining it was Mr Alcott's surly, horrible face.
She finally fell asleep on her bed, exhausted, and did not wake until dinnertime.
"Oh! Here you are then!" he said. "And what did your mother find for you to do this time?"
"I just had to run down to Lucas Lodge with a message for Lady Lucas, Father," explained Mary. "Will you continue what you were telling me, if you please?"
"But of course. Who would you like me to tell you of now?"
Mary thought. "Hmmmm... I am interested to hear of the Guildfords."
"Then the Guildfords it shall be. Well, my dear, Sir Edward is a lot like your uncle Gardiner; very amiable and well-favoured. He is a very enthusiastic gentleman, and his wife, Lady Guildford, is a lot like him. Very happy, very positive. They are both sure that they will love Hertfordshire, and have already promised me a ball, which, as you may imagine, gratified me deeply," he finished dryly.
Mary laughed. "Of course, that was the first thought that sprang to mind! I should as soon say that Mother would be excessively disappointed by the news!"
He chuckled. "Yes, yes, Mary. Shall I continue? Yes well, I met all of the Guildfords' seven children, and in general they seem to be a delightful family. The eldest is a very fashionable fellow, or so I hear, and very popular in town, so you would have thought that to be spending his winter in a small area like Meryton would have disgusted him greatly, but he is all eagerness and exuberance; quite a strange thing for a man his age! The next eldest is a quiet young man bent on reading, obviously very thoughtful and intelligent, but a little too unsociable for my tastes. The next is a young woman, Miss Annabel Guildford, about your age, I should think. She is a very handsome, sweet sort of girl, a little like Jane, I believe, but more animated. She has a most beautiful laugh. Helena Guildford is the next eldest. She is just as any other girl her age, I think. She has a lot of confidence and is quite an appealing girl. I believe-"
But at this point he was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Yes?" he answered.
Hill opened the door. "Mr Nesbit, Mr Milne, Mr Hildesly and Mr Alcott, sir."
Four gentlemen walked into the library, obviously the new Netherfield tenants, thought Mary. She curtsied shyly, still unused to trying to make a good impression on men.
"Good morning, gentlemen," said Mr Bennet. "It's a pleasure to see you. Please sit down." He gave Mary a sly wink. "Let me introduce my daughter Mary."
The men bowed as Mr Bennet introduced each one to Mary. Mr Nesbit was a short, nondescript sort of man with orange hair and a pleasant countenance. He had nothing of the handsome features which Mr Bingley had been favoured with, but had an agreeable air about him. He smiled and nodded at Mary. Mr Hildesly smiled and shook Mary's hand most warmly when they were introduced. He was, like Mr Nesbit, not at all handsome, but he had an electric sort of personality which recommended itself to a stranger directly. His happy manners reminded Mary a lot of Jane's Mr Bingley, but he seemed to be more switched-on. Mary suspected that he probably did not have Bingley's pleasant but gullible tendency to believe that all of the world was good - despite the exuberance that shone from him, he had a calm and measuring eye if one looked closely. The next gentleman to be introduced was Mr Milne, the needle-witted fellow that Mr Bennet had felt sleepy beside. He talked fast and sensibly, and shook hands with both father and daughter briskly. He had a thin moustache and glasses, and sat straight up like a poker, as alert as a meercat. The last person to be introduced to Mary was the handsome Mr Alcott, who was quite as Mary had imagined him to be. He was dark and brooding, and seemed to wear a permanent grimace. One could imagine him as the nemesis in any gory novel. However, he was so very handsome that Mary began to think that maybe he wasn't so bad after all; that is, until he was introduced to her. He simply scowled and gave her a stiff bow. Mary smiled sweetly in return, her eyes showing all her amusement at his arrogant demeanour. One admirable thing about Mary while she was still the pious little hypocrite was that she didn't care a jot whether people were rude to her or not, and she had not lost this quality. Mr Alcott seemed a little surprised and offended at her laughing eyes, and was even more so when Mr Bennet gave a short laugh and winked at his middle daughter. He folded his arms, crossed his legs, and planted a look of such transparent disdain on his face that it took all of Mary's self control to stop laughter from breaking out of her lungs.
The visit was not long, as the group had to go and return the visits of many other people that morning, but before they went, Mr Nesbit asked if they could wander the garden of which they had heard so much. Here Mary blushed a little, and was proud, for she had spent all her free time tending to the garden for the past few months, and even she had to admit to herself that it was much improved. She was gratified when her father said in reply, "Yes the gardens have become lovely since Mary here started investing her time in them. If you wish, she will show you around them."
"Oh, we would not bother you so, Miss Bennet," said Mr Hildesly cordially. "It is a chilly day out, so we will show ourselves around."
Mary was pleased to disclaim the arduous task of showing the gentlemen around; it was not quite yet the most comfortable thing in the world to make conversation with four perfect strangers, especially when they were all male. However, she did wish to know what they thought of her garden, so she went to sit in the small conservatory with a mischievous smile on her face, sheltered from view of the four men, but in a good place so as to hear everything they said while walking in the garden.
When they had slowly made their way to the garden outside the conservatory, she heard the voice of Mr Hildesly, and her heart warmed towards him at his words. "She must be very skilled to create a lovely garden such as this."
"Do you really think so, Richard?" came Mr Alcott's dry voice. "I had not thought you so gullible! That girl did no more on this garden than you or I did; depend upon it, it was a gardener."
You can understand Mary's anger at these words. But she made no movement, only straining to hear more.
"I shall never understand why you are so skeptical of everything and everyone, Matthew," complained Mr Hildesly. "You never seem to believe anything that anyone says. Why? What is your reason?"
"And I shall never understand why you are so oblivious to any efforts to entangle you, Richard," drifted back the voice of Mr Alcott. "Too often have I been in the situation when some young woman or another throws out their lures to try and trap my fortune. And by such a girl as this Miss Bennet!"
"What do you mean?" demanded Mr Hildesly.
"What do I mean?" Mr Alcott cracked out a dry laugh. "I mean, my dear Richard, that she is a common, vulgar sort of girl with dreary looks and features who can only suffer shaking our hands because we have fortunes far higher than she can ever dream of."
"You are mistaken, Alcott," said the sharp voice of Mr Milne. "She is just a friendly, normal sort of girl."
"Maybe to you," snapped back Mr Alcott. "You are already married. What hope can she have of securing you? I am persuaded that she is a twitty, plain girl with no features to recommend her but her supposed gardening skills."
"I think..." said Mr Hildesly slowly, "that you are angered because she laughed at you, Matthew."
"Shall we go?" was all Mr Alcott said.
The men walked off, and Mary sat in the conservatory, hot tears springing to her eyes. How dare he! How dare he! She was absolutely furious. Because she had the sense to only laugh at his supercilious ways, he felt bound to insult her on everything he could possibly think of about her! She was disgusted with him. She did smile a little as she thought about Mr Hildesly's kind remarks on her behalf, but as for Mr Alcott - she resolved never to laugh at him again; from now on, the only emotion he would find in her icy blue eyes would be coldness. She wiped her eyes and ran upstairs to her bedchamber, pulling out her Bible and reading her favourite passages to comfort her, scribbling down furious paragraphs in her diary at the horridness of Mr Alcott, and finally throwing punches at her pillow, imagining it was Mr Alcott's surly, horrible face.
She finally fell asleep on her bed, exhausted, and did not wake until dinnertime.