Mary tried her best, she really did. She gave it her all, but after four days of rain, her 'all' may not have been quite what it should have been.

In an experiment to see if she could use subtle influence on a man who lacked subtlety, she worked on convincing Mr. Collins that he really had no need to attend the Netherfield ball, and all she got for her efforts was a request for a set. Mary could not work out a polite way to say 'no', so debated for a full minute. He had left the question open-ended, so she wisely said, "Yes, Mr. Collins. You may have the second to last set."

With any luck, the man would have choked in his wine or fallen asleep long before that.

Immediately after the abysmal failure of her plan, she wondered at the oddness of Mr. Collins asking her for a set without being specific. She hoped that it meant he did not think of her in 'that way', which would be a blessed relief. It also meant that he had some other victim in mind for the first, which was certain to spell trouble. It turned out that trouble was just walking into the parlor right at that very moment.

"Miss Elizabeth, I have just been informed that Mr. Bingley in an act of great condescension has allowed me the pleasure of attending his ball on Thursday. It is with the greatest humility and expectation of pleasure that I humbly request the honor of the first set."

The gentleman was supremely confident of a successful effort. He was after all a gentleman with a very good position, and his attention to the young lady could hardly have been mistaken. Mr. Bingley had only delivered the invitation to the ball less than an hour previously, so he would obviously be the first to ask. He waited in breathless anticipation.

Mary watched Elizabeth carefully for signs of distress and was quite befuddled to see none. Wondering how Elizabeth was keeping her composure, she listened carefully to the reply.

"The first set with whom, Mr. Collins?"

Mary stifled the giggle that bubbled up in her throat… just barely, while Mr. Collins looked quite befuddled.

Finally, Mr. Collins regained his usual level of wit and replied, "With you, of course."

Elizabeth looked at him with a look Mary could not interpret, and replied, "I have already granted the first set, Mr. Collins."

Elizabeth did not elaborate, but the gentleman was undaunted.

"Well, since I am your cousin and quite possibly… well, let me say no more on that subject. Might the gentleman yield the set to me?"

Elizabeth looked at him with a less ambiguous air. Mary had seen her use the same expression before killing a cockroach.

Elizabeth replied with some real exasperation, "Why on earth would the gentleman do such a thing, even if I was to ask him, which I assure you I will not."

Mr. Collins was taken aback by the vehemence of the reply, so he decided to take another tack.

"Might I know the gentleman's name, Cousin?"

"No, you most certainly may not! Truly, Mr. Collins. You astound me!"

Mary saw Elizabeth getting frustrated and tried to decide whether to pity her or be amused. There was sisterly camaraderie to be considered, but on the other hand, Elizabeth had abandoned her on that walk into Meryton and deserved some minor retribution. For the moment, Elizabeth seemed to be doing fine on her own, so amusement won out. She set out to observe the conversation closely so she could later relay it to her father and Charlotte Lucas.

Mr. Collins, showing his usual amount of subtlety, did not even notice the rising pitch of the lady's voice, and blithely carried on.

"Well then, perhaps the second?"

"That has been granted as well, Mr. Collins."

Mr. Collins looked completely flummoxed, and cringing slightly, asked, "The third set, then?"

Elizabeth nonchalantly replied, "That set is already spoken for as well, Mr. Collins. Let us skip to the end of this conversation so Mary and I may discuss a few private matters that await us. You may have the fourth set, Mr. Collins."

Not to be intimidated, Mr. Collins replied, "Perhaps the supper set, Miss Elizabeth. That would allow us to sup together and become better acquainted."

Elizabeth had experienced just about as much amusement as she was likely to get, so she replied somewhat sharply, "Mr. Collins, your application is extraordinary. You asked for a set, and I have granted it. This discussion is over."

Sputtering, Mr. Collins replied, "But… but… but… May I ask who you are dancing the supper set with?"

Elizabeth gave up all pretense at politeness, and replied, "Mr. Collins, remind me again who your patroness is?"

Mr. Collins sputtered, "How can you not remember? I have mentioned her many-many times, and you may soon meet her yourself. She is the noble Lady Catherine de Bourgh, upon whose condescension…"

Elizabeth, apparently out of patience, just cut him off.

"Now I remember. Mr. Collins. I will ask you to write down her direction for me and I shall write her directly. She seems fond of delivering instruction, so I will ask her to teach you the rudiments of basic propriety and manners. My dance card is my business, Sir. Your intrusions on my personal business is quite indecorous, and I doubt the lady would approve. I hope she can instruct you, as I seem quite incapable."

Leaving a sputtering Mr. Collins behind, Elizabeth, feeling not the slightest guilt, took Mary's arm to leave the room for their entirely imaginary secret affairs.

"Papa, how are we to transport six ladies and two gentlemen to the ball. Shall we take two trips?"

Elizabeth was more than a little bit interested in the question. Four days of rain had left the roads in less than admirable condition, and the ladies of the house nearly mad with boredom and frustration with the oddities of their cousin, whose amusement had long been worn out. Longbourn had been a madhouse all day, and it presently seemed unlikely that all or even most of the ladies would be ready on time for two trips in the carriage before the first set.

Elizabeth was determined beyond all reason that she would not be late, though still quite unwilling to acknowledge that the first set of the evening was the only thing she was truly looking forward to.

Her father looked up from his book, not the least bit perturbed. It was not the first ball he had attended with six ladies, nor would it be the last. He had plenty of time.

"Well Lizzy, are you so worried about propriety that you want to absolutely assure punctuality?"

Elizabeth had the good grace to blush, which told her father all he needed to know… not that the story of Mr. Collins's proposal had not told him all of that already. There was only one way that his daughter could have three sets secured before Mr. Bingley arrived with the invitations. Darcy had been a busy man. In fact, the man seemed to be playing a good game, for someone started out already down a queen and two bishops.

Elizabeth finally replied, "It would be bad manners to arrive late, Papa… and Jane would do something insane and thoroughly out of character if she missed opening with Mr. Bingley."

"Oh, you think she might frown."

"No Papa, nothing so mild as that. I believe she might actually stamp her foot."

The gentleman laughed aloud, quite amused by the whole incident, but also ready to try to finish a chapter in his book before the experience commenced. He expected diverting folly aplenty during the evening, but there was no point in rushing it.

"Well Lizzy, set your mind at ease. Mr. Darcy observed our logistical difficulties and is sending his carriage for you, Mary, Jane and I. Your mother will bring the other two and Mr. Collins."

Elizabeth smiled at the ease of the solution and yet another sign that Mr. Darcy was a thoughtful gentleman, while simultaneously rapping her father in the knuckles with her fan for putting her through the whole ordeal. Then with a tinkling laugh that Mr. Bennet had not heard nearly enough of since the summer, she skipped out of the room to gather up Jane and Mary. It would not do to be late. That would obviously be tremendously unfair to Jane!

The arrival at Netherfield seemed magical. Mr. Darcy's carriage was of the finest quality, and the ride the best she had ever experienced. Traveling with the three quietest inhabitants of Longbourn added to the pleasure of the short journey. The coachman and footmen were both amiable and skillful in their execution. All in all, it was the best three miles by coach Elizabeth had ever experienced. The front of the Netherfield estate was lit up with torches everywhere, including on the drive. Lina had thoughtfully put canvas out to the drive to insure dresses and shoes stayed clean. The attendants were all dressed in bright livery, and she even saw Sally Cobb in what appeared to be a new dress waving as she walked by on the porch carrying a picture.

They were in fact somewhat early and stepped quickly through the receiving line. Elizabeth was happy to see Mr. Bingley could hardly keep his eyes off Jane. Mr. Darcy was a guest so not required to endure the torture of the line, but he was there anyway. Elizabeth curtsied and smiled brightly at the gentleman, spoke a few of the usual pleasantries, and then moved down the line to stand in front of Miss Bingley.

"Liza, you look wonderful."

Elizabeth had been wondering exactly how Miss Bingley would treat her after their heartfelt conversation at Longbourn. it was too soon to tell exactly, but Elizabeth though they were well on their way to being close friends. She thought the fact that Lina had, perhaps unconsciously, shortened her name even more bode very well for their future closeness.

"Lina, the décor is breathtaking. You have done wonders! I have never seen the like, even in Town."

Caroline Bingley smiled as if that was the first genuinely nice thing anybody had ever said to her in her life. Elizabeth thought that based on her life history, it may well have been true. Miss Bingley had received many compliments before, but nothing with the feel of such authenticity.

"Let me show you! Mr. Darcy, you can manage on your own, I presume."

Without waiting for a reply, she took Liza's arm and dragged her bodily away from the receiving line, and made a wide circumnavigation of the ballroom, pointing out different decorations and features of the room as she went.

"You installed new draperies?"

"Yes, do you like them?"

"Very much so. The color is gorgeous, and I must know the fabric."

Lina blushed, and said, "I must confess, I played a little game when I selected them."

"Oh, do tell."

Caroline looked around to be sure they were alone, and whispered, "I pretended to be your sister, and then picked what I thought she would."

Elizabeth laughed heartily, and said, "You did wonderfully. Lydia will be quite impressed."

Laughing together in a mostly (well almost) decorous manner, the two ladies moved on to the next interesting bauble.

Elizabeth was fascinated by some of the items and interested in all. It took at least a quarter hour just to make it around the ballroom, as Elizabeth had questions at nearly every turn. Everything from the length and makeup of the candles to what was in the punch and white soup was of interest.

At long last they made it back to the receiving line, and a crush of visitors was starting to appear, so Miss Bingley indicated she would need to get back to her duties.

Before she left, Elizabeth replied, "It is all wonderful, Lina. You have a flair for this."

Caroline nodded shyly, and replied, "All it takes is money, Liza."

Elizabeth laughed, and replied, "No more fishing for compliments. You know if you have money but no taste you get vulgarity. Money with tastes begets elegance. You have shown me a fine example of the latter."

Blushing even more furiously, Caroline Bingley took her hand, squeezed it in appreciation, and said, "I must go back to my hostess duties, Liza. I will send your Mr. Darcy over."

Elizabeth blushed very prettily, stared at the floor, and replied, "He is not my Mr. Darcy, and never will be."

Lina broke a few rules by reaching under her chin to make Elizabeth look at her, and replied, "He is not, but mark my words Liza. He could be."

Then with a short laugh and another squeeze of the hand, she was gone to be replaced by Jane who had walked up unseen behind her, asking, "Who could be what, Lizzy?"

"Never mind."