After dinner, Elizabeth returned to Jane and sat with her till summoned to coffee. Jane was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not quit her at all, till late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her sleep, and when it seemed to her rather right than pleasant that she should go downstairs herself. On entering the drawing-room she found the whole party at loo, and was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them to be playing high she declined it, and making her sister the excuse, said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay below, with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment.
"Do you prefer reading to cards?" said he; "that is rather singular."
"Miss Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, "despises cards. She is a great reader and has no pleasure in anything else."
Elizabeth at first wanted to gently dispute the words, which were certainly intended as a slight, but she had a brilliant idea that she thought might just kill two birds with one stone. She could not bring herself to be outright impolite or rude, particularly to Mr. Darcy, but she could defend herself while remaining absolutely‑precisely polite, which might accomplish the same thing. She was at the time not certain if she was returning to her earlier impertinence or, after Ramsgate, she was just unwilling to suffer attacks without retaliation. This was the second one today, although Miss Bingley was unaware that she had heard the first. Smiling complacently, Elizabeth decided to use Miss Bingley's own tactics.
"Miss Bingley, my apologies that I did not learn this earlier, but may I ask where you hail from?"
Miss Bingley could not imagine why Miss Eliza had not responded to what she intended as a subtle snub, since nobody really liked a bluestocking, not to mention that she also believed the woman was avoiding the game either because she lacked skill, or she could not afford the stakes.
Looking perplexed, the lady replied, "London."
Elizabeth offered a bright smile and played an old game she had found to be effective when she wanted to sound less intelligent than she was. She pretended to be Lydia.
"Oh, so you have always lived in Town. My mistake! I thought I detected a more northern accent in your speech. It must have been interesting growing up in the city. My cousins live on Gracechurch Street, which I imagine must be very similar to your home. My uncle is a tradesman just like your father, so your upbringing must have been along the same lines. What was it like growing up in Town?"
Mr. Darcy was facing away from her, and he did not turn towards either of the ladies. A slight smile seemed to be gracing his face, even though he was studying his cards most intently. That was not ideal.
Miss Bingley looked quite put out, and refused to answer, but her brother took up the office with quite a laugh.
"No… no… Your ears are correct, Miss Elizabeth. We are not from London. We hail from Scarborough. Much of our family still lives there. I believe my sister simply meant that we presently have a townhouse in London."
Elizabeth gave him a big smile just to show the she liked someone in the house.
Mr. Bingley gave a big return grin, and when his sister turned her nose up and looked away, he looked directly at Elizabeth and winked, before continuing.
"Miss Elizabeth, we are from Scarborough, and you are correct about our parents. My father made his fortune in the sailcloth business. He very well may have known your uncle. We used to live in London, but now we live in Hertfordshire."
At that declaration, Miss Bingley looked like someone just threw a dead skunk on her lap, but at least refrained from saying anything, although Elizabeth could just guess she was seething, which was not a bad thing.
Elizabeth replied, "Ah, I see. Thank you, Mr. Bingley. Now I understand."
Mr. Bingley looked like was quite happy to be of service. He considered the problem solved and turned back to his cards, but Miss Bingley looked distinctly displeased with her reply.
"Could you clarify, Miss Eliza? What is it you now understand?"
"Your manner of speech, Miss Bingley. You were raised so far from London and the more populated southern regions that I imagine the customs are different. It must be a Northern‑Southern effect. In the South, it would be considered very bad manners to shorten my address to an arbitrary diminutive like 'Eliza' without knowing me well and without my permission, but I suppose it is common practice in Scarborough, so I am not offended. I was just curious about the origin of the custom."
Miss Bingley turned about three shades of red immediately, while Mr. Darcy said not a word, but a quick glance revealed that he was just about to burst out laughing. Mr. Bingley was not quite so disciplined, and he chortled with mirth. He finally replied.
"No, Miss Elizabeth. It is not the custom in Scarborough. We are taught good manners there as well, some more diligently than others, apparently. Perhaps they teach such things in seminary. It is all quite a mystery to me."
He continued chuckling, while his sister continued grinding her teeth and staring daggers at Elizabeth.
That lady felt a bit guilty. Of course, she did not feel guilty about putting Miss Bingley in her place. Before Ramsgate, she would have said stronger things with less provocation, and after Ramsgate she knew she might need the strength to protect herself at any time and would no longer be trifled with by anyone. She did not particularly even feel guilty that she might have hurt Jane's chances with Mr. Bingley. Miss Bingley was already an enemy before she said anything and would still be unrelenting in her displeasure regardless of what Elizabeth said or did. The exercise put Miss Bingley on notice that Elizabeth had her limits and would not accept unlimited condescension. It also served to tell Mr. Bingley that he might want to consider whether his sister's behavior reflected well on him. It would not do to tell him directly of course, but hinting was acceptable.
Neither of those things really bothered her, though. What did was the fact that the only reason she said anything at all was to try to dissuade Mr. Darcy from extending their acquaintance, and nothing else really mattered to her. She had been assured all her life by every authority she knew that men did not like impertinent, unpleasant or strong women. This was a way for her to be all three without turning vicious or impolite, and without breaking a single rule of good manners. The fact that she was subtly attacking one of Mr. Darcy's friends should make it even more offensive.
As for Jane and Mr. Bingley, the man was either resilient enough to stand on his own two feet or he was not. If the sisters could pry the brother away from Jane, the man was not worthy of her affection, and the sooner that fact was brought to light the better. It seemed certain Miss Bingley would oppose the match with vigor, regardless of what any Bennet did, so this would be a good chance to judge his ability to withstand the assault.
Mr. Darcy, on the other hand, would never interfere in his friend's affections, so he was not to be a factor in Jane's case. Any relationship between Jane and Mr. Bingley was not anyone's business, and even venturing an opinion would be terribly ungentlemanly. She just did not believe Mr. Darcy capable of such low trickery.
In the end, Elizabeth did not believe she helped or hindered Jane with her setdown, but felt selfish that all her motivations were rationalized after the fact.
Unfortunately, far-far too late, she had a disquieting thought. It was entirely possible that Mr. Darcy might like impertinent women. In that case, Elizabeth's defense of herself might raise her in his esteem. If that turned out to be the case, she thought she may have played her hand very poorly. She might have to resort to being unpleasant to someone other than Miss Bingley, if Mr. Darcy started showing signs of too much interest.
She only stayed a few more minutes, then she retired to see to Jane's comfort. Sally was back, rested and refreshed, so Miss Bingley had at least had the decency to allow her some ease after working all night. They agreed to split the night between them so neither of them would take ill themselves, with Sally taking the beginning of the night.
Miss Bingley did manage to recover her equilibrium and came to visit before retiring. Elizabeth was polite to the lady and did her best not to bait her. She might eventually be Jane's sister after all. Miss Bingley, for her part, was back to being polite, the card table conversation probably not forgotten, but at least not to be litigated that day.
Elizabeth began to suspect that Miss Bingley might have a tendre for Mr. Darcy, or at least for his position and fortune, so perhaps the lady was reevaluating her behavior considering his reactions during the day. It was unlikely, but stranger things had happened.
Elizabeth spent the last few minutes before finding her own rest thinking about what to do about Mr. Darcy. Her plan of avoiding him, ignoring him or driving him back to town seemed destined to fail. She really believed that it had been a good plan for any ordinary rich man, but Mr. Darcy appeared to be a touch on the stubborn side. They had met briefly in a few places during the day, and he was polite and deferential every time. Perhaps she could just keep him at arm's length, and they would never really have any conversation that could include either his sister or Ramsgate.
Yes, that was the solution. Arm's length… no substantive conversations. She could work with that.
Jane was slightly recovered in the morning but was still incapable of doing much more than taking some broth and tea and sleeping most of the day. Elizabeth broached the subject of going home, but Jane turned green and nearly made herself ill again at the very thought of even a half‑hour in the coach.
Mr. Bingley asked after Jane's health in the hallway near the breakfast parlor, as was proper, given that both ladies were ostensibly under his protection. Her replies had him offering to bring his physician from town, but Elizabeth assured him that was unnecessary, at least for the time being.
At breakfast, Mr. Darcy also asked after Jane's health very solicitously, and suggested that Mr. Bingley would be happy to get a physician if she thought it worthwhile. Once again, she demurred.
Miss Bingley inquired as well, and even managed to exude some sympathy.
By the evening, Jane seemed to be getting the better of her illness. She was feeling improved, coughing less and managed to take broth and gruel.
"Lizzy, I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to have you and Sally taking such good care of me."
"Oh pish, Jane. You know we could do nothing else."
Elizabeth thought it best not to mention that she also had ulterior motives.
Sally reached over and puffed one of Jane's pillows a bit, and added, "Miss Lizzy and I are right where we would choose to be, Miss Jane. I daresay your Mr. Bingley would heartily agree with us."
Jane turned somewhat red, which showed she now had several choices of skin color besides green, and demurred, "He is not my Mr. Bingley."
Sally was not quite as decorous as the ladies, so she just snorted before replying.
"If he is not, he very soon shall be… so long as you do not go out of your way to hide your feelings… and watch your back around his sister."
Jane looked at her in concern.
"Hide my feelings, Sally? What do you mean?"
"Yes, hide your feelings. Do not be a simpleton, Miss Jane. Papa says it's always best to assume men are not as aware of our feelings as women are. I assure you of one thing though. The mistress of this house has taken your measure and knows exactly how you feel. The master may or may not. If you want more from him, you will have to help him along."
Jane looked aghast, sputtered a few times, and finally exclaimed, "Help him along! Help him along?"
Elizabeth, trying to either quell Jane's panic or put it to good use, felt compelled to add, "Charlotte is of the same opinion, Jane. I ask you, name me one woman aside from Aunt Gardiner as sensible as Sally or Charlotte, and you may ask them for advice. In lieu of that, I will defer to the best advisors we have at hand. Do not show more than you feel, and certainly do not act indecorously; but your usual stone-face shows less than you feel. It might not be your best strategy in this case. I have no idea if Mr. Bingley is worth winning, but it would behoove you to show him a little bit of encouragement if you want to at least have a chance. Charlotte says, there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. Just a little is all we ask."
Jane looked pensive, but also quite tired and confused, so Elizabeth and Sally helped her change into a clean nightrail, re‑braided her hair, and put her back to bed.
Once she slept, Elizabeth and Sally felt that she could be left on her own for a time. Just as the previous evening, Elizabeth thought it was proper rather than desirable to attend the others in the parlor, so she prepared herself and went down, ready to face the lions.