The Bennets' life was both busy and dull for the next few days. Most of their time was spent embroidering, reading, playing chess, or practicing at the pianoforte. Mary still could not be out of doors for any longer than it took to go from the carriage to a house or the church.

Her sisters and her brother had been out visiting the tenants very often, for many were still ailing. Baskets were delivered to them and comfort given. On one such visit, Charlotte learned that Mrs. Castor, the wet-nurse for the Larrysons, was gently born. Her father had been indolent and a gamester, so they had soon lost their estate and the status that went with it. Still, the lady had made a good match for her situation, marrying a tradesman. Yet, when influenza took both her husband and her child, she was again in reduced circumstances. She was fortunate indeed to have found a position as a wet nurse. Mary supposed that once the Larrysons no longer needed a wet nurse for little Mary, they would not be able to justify the expense of keeping the lady on. Not when the expense was so very trying on them. Therefore, Mary was determined to find a good situation for the woman. She wondered, perhaps, if James and Charlotte might wish to take her on as a nurse or governess if they should have a child.

On Sunday, Mary was excited to be out and about, seeing many of those in the community that she had not been able to visit. One such was Mrs. Castor. It occurred then to Mary, as the lady held the sleeping babe, that Mrs. Castor was rather pretty. She had no bloom left in her perhaps, but that was to be expected of one in such a situation. Many of those who had not seen Mary since her recovery rejoiced in her return to health. Several of the matrons made ill-judged comments about Mary's still not looking so very well, but she supposed such things might be overlooked as showing concern rather than as a slight to her looks.

The one lady who was most concerned for Mary was the vicar's mother. Mrs. Hadley was quite elderly and could not hear well. She used an ear trumpet to assist her, but often it did little good. Thankfully, the lady did not yell as some did when they began to lose their hearing, but those speaking to her often had to do so for her to understand. Although Mary appreciated the lady's concern, her throat was quite sore from speaking loudly by the end of the discussion. Once Mrs. Hadley had gone off to talk with Mrs. Bennet, Mary made her escape. She had no wish to hear much of the conversation that her mother had with the vicar's wife, for what she could hear told her that they were speaking of how disappointed Mrs. Bennet was that neither of her elder daughters had managed to become engaged to one of the Netherfield party.

Mary made her way to the ladies' retiring room, for there was a pitcher of drinking water within and cups for use therewith. She soothed her throat with the water, knowing that her mother would not wish to leave for some time. Church was often the best time for gossip, Mrs. Bennet's favourite past time.

When she left the retiring room, Mary took a seat next to James on one of the pews towards the back of the church. Mrs. Hadley and Mrs. Bennet were still speaking towards the front of the church. Elizabeth, Miss Lucas, Mr. Lucas, and Miss Maria were speaking off to the left. Goodness knows where Mr. Bennet had taken himself off to. Likely the carriage, so he might sit and read while his family visited.

None of these conversations were what held Mary's interest, however. Miss Castor and Mr. Hadley, the vicar, sat in a pew near the back of the church speaking in low voices. Mary could not hear what they said, but she saw Mrs. Castor blush twice. Mr. Hadley was a handsome man and had a good living. He was the younger son of a younger son of a younger son of a gentleman, so he was respectable, but not highly sought after. Once Mary had held a tendre for him herself, but that was long ago.

Mary wondered how long it would be that little Mary would nurse. The Lucas children all went onto goat's milk after a while, but Mary could not remember how old they were when they made the change. Mary wondered if she could find out. Mary did not like to think herself very like her mother, but she was supposing a little matchmaking would not go badly, so long as she did not speak of it to anyone. Yes, the vicar needed to set the example for the parish and marry.

"You are very quiet, sir," said Lady Hannah as she and Mr. Darcy danced.

"I apologise if I have been distracted, my lady. It was unconscious on my part. I am only quite concerned for a friend and his sister have both taken ill and I am quite concerned," said Darcy. Bingley and Miss Bingley had, in fact, both taken ill with the same ailment that had afflicted Miss Mary during her stay at Netherfield. Bingley was not so affected, but Miss Bingley was very ill indeed. In truth, however, this was not what distracted him. He could not stop thinking about the fine eyes of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. It did not help that Lady Hannah had eyes very similar in colour, although they did not have the same sparkle.

"It does you credit to be so very concerned for your friend and his sister. I do hope they will recover soon, sir," replied Lady Hannah with a small frown for she did not like to think of anyone suffering.

"I thank you, my lady. You are all kindness. I am sure they shall be well."

"Mayhap I can cheer you by speaking of something else. What think you of books?" asked Lady Hannah.

They began to talk of many of the histories and novels they enjoyed. Lady Hannah was impressed that he read novels and so readily admitted it.

'The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid," said Darcy, causing Lady Hannah to laugh.

Her laugh was such that it grated on his ears. It did not fit such a young lady as she, reminding him much more of Sir William Lucas than the lady herself. That was not an association he would enjoy in the woman he married. Still, the dance was pleasant. Afterward, he bowed and thanked her for the dance before leading her back to where her brother stood speaking with two ladies.

He next danced with Miss Aubrey. He did not dance with her as a prospective marriage partner, for she was but sixteen and reminded him far too much of his sister and Miss Mary, but because she had been sitting alone and was watching the dancers with a forlorn look on her face. She was pleasant and very like Miss Mary in temperament. She was bookish and intelligent but did not yet know how to use her intelligence to best advantage.

He danced four more times throughout the evening. Once was with his cousin Hennie. One was with Lady Cowper herself. The other two were with society Misses that his uncle had thrust upon him in such a way that he had no choice but to dance with them. They were everything insipid and everything he did not want in a wife. After the last of those dances, he determined he had stayed long enough that Lady Cowper would not be offended and therefore called for his carriage and made his way home.

"Have you heard?" cried Mrs. Phillips as she joined the Bennets on Monday morning well before calling hours.

"Have I heard what, dear sister?" said Mrs. Bennet with all excitement. She knew her sister must have something wonderful to share if she was in such a state.

Mr. Bennet, for his part, made his way from the breakfast table to his library, not wishing to hear whatever the excitement was. It very likely did not concern him, and if it did, James would tell him of it.

"Mr. Wickham has been taken to debtor's prison! Mrs. Long told me yesterday as you know she does not keep a carriage, so she rode with me and dear Mr. Phillips. It seems she heard it from Mrs. Goulding whose brother witnessed it himself! Five hundred pounds of debt, it is said. Can you imagine such a sum? And another twenty pounds here in Meryton, but dear, dear Colonel Foster bought those debts himself so the merchants would not suffer, and his men would continue to be welcomed."

"Oh James!" cried Mrs. Bennet, embracing her son, "You knew it. You told me the man was no good. Of course, I supposed as much before you told me, but you confirmed it. How glad I am that you warned me. I would not have wanted to invite such a man into our home! Just think of it! How different he is than a man like Colonel Foster or Colonel Fitzwilliam."

James tried to say something in reply, but his mother and aunt went on exclaiming over the wickedness of the man. As their exclamations and gossip became more detailed and less fit for young ladies, he quickly hurried his sisters from the breakfast room into one of the parlours furthest away from their relations. Elizabeth and Mary did not need to hear what Mr. Wickham had been found doing with a maid from the inn. He did not think they understood much of what their aunt meant, so coded in innuendo was the gossip, but still it was not fit. He did not wish to explain why it was so scandalous that a man should eat a bun. Honestly, he was surprised that Wickham was the type of man to eat a bun. He thought the man rather more selfish than that.

Most of all, though, James was just glad the man was gone. He had more than a half dozen women under his protection in some way or other, and it was hard enough to feel at ease when the regiment was nearby. After what the Fitzwilliam had told him about Wickham's not needing the women to be swayed, James had only just restrained himself from locking his sisters away. As it was, Lizzy chaffed at having to be accompanied by a groom anywhere she went, even on Longbourn's land. She understood, for she knew all about Mr. Wickham, but she missed her solo rides. She would not be happy when he told her that she was to be accompanied until the regiment left the area. If one man such as Wickham had enlisted, who was to say there were not more.

Darcy House, London

2nd of December

Dear Cousin Anne,

I do not know what happened to my previous letter, but I must suppose you are right in that it was lost in the post. I am well. Do not concern yourself. I scarcely remember what all I wrote in my previous letter, for so much has happened since then. We are in town. I am not going to prevent GG from continuing her friendship with Miss E and Miss Mary. I would never be so cruel as that. I am offended that you would suppose such of me. Miss E and Miss Mary are fine friends to her. I daresay not a day goes by that a letter does not arrive from either one or one of the Misses Lucas.

We removed to town in such haste. Mr. W is, or was, in Hertfordshire in the militia. Rich called in the man's debts, so he should now be languishing somewhere in debtor's prison. It is the least he deserves. I will not allow him to impose himself on the good people of Hertfordshire. You will think this is only due to Miss E, but it is not. Many people in the area are very good people. I would not wish them or anyone else to be ruined by Mr. W. I only wish I had done so sooner.

As for your Mr. B, I am glad to hear that you receive regular letters now. It all sounds very exciting, but I am glad that he is to return to a calmer life soon. Truly, I have never been able to picture Mr. B in battle or sword fighting aboard an enemy ship. What an odd picture. I suppose it is only because I am used to seeing him at house parties or in town. If it were not for the scar on his ear, I would likely not believe half his tales.

You will never believe my tales when I tell you of what I have been about. I have been to one ball and four dinners in the last week. I have danced with six ladies, only one of whom was wed and that was because she was my hostess. I have attempted to make myself agreeable and talk with the ladies I am seated near. I am no closer to finding a wife, for the only ladies I found agreeable remind me far too much of my sister. I suppose there was one other who was genteel and pretty enough, but her laugh reminded me of a very jolly fellow I am acquainted with. After making such an association, I could not picture her as anything but a fine friend.

Bingley and Miss Bingley are now both very ill with the same as what plagued Miss Mary during her stay. Bingley is on the mend now, but Miss Bingley is very ill indeed. I know neither of us are fond of the lady, but Mr. Bingley is my friend. He is so very worried for his sister. Mr. Hadden has been attending her nearly constantly along with a bevy of maids. Miss Bingley is not responding so well as one might hope to the same treatment that cured Miss Mary. Mr. Hadden is now trying something else, which includes the same herbs infused in strong drink. It is hoped that the strong drink will cleanse her throat in the same way it cleanses a wound. Bingley says it is quite humourous, for his sister is apparently much more agreeable when in her cups. Of course, I do not mean he finds her illness humourous, only her manner.

By the bye, have you any need of anything from town for your wedding? I would be more than happy to bring whatever you need. I could even send it to you sooner, should you wish it. Just send instructions and I will obey, dear cousin. As it is already December, I suppose your Mr. B will be home very soon.

Yours, etc.

Fitz