Darcy's letter did much to brighten my spirits. I woke the next morning feeling quite refreshed and with the attitude that I would not let Lydia or Mrs. Bennet annoy me today, for Darcy missed and loved me! And I could leave here at any moment that it became too much to bear, and that made me determined to not run away until my stay was complete. I looked out the window, at the beautiful view of the yard from my garden,and beyond the rolling hills and trees. I heard the rooster crow and smiled.

I quickly dressed and then slipped out of the bedroom. Immediately, my good mood was put to the test. I could hear shrill giggling and loud talking coming from the dining room. My footsteps slowed after one exceptionally shrill laugh that was unmistakably Mrs. Bennet. They all seemed to be in exceptionally good spirits as well, and for some reason that made me more wary than accepting their scowls.

I slowly walked down the stairs, cringing once again at every creak. I kept running Darcy's letter though my mind, for I had read it enough times the night before to have it memorized. I finally arrived in the dining room and steeled myself for whatever greeting I would receive. I turned the corner.

"Lizzy! There you are! We were sure you were going to sleep forever!" Mrs. Bennet's voice made my head hurt, especially at such close proximity, "Of course you may be used to sleeping late, but today that must not be so-," she was then cut off quite suddenly by Lydia's squeal of, "There is a ball tonight and we are all going! And the regiments will be there! And oh Kitty! I must wear your wide white ribbon! And of course I'll need to go shopping for some more ribbon for my hair! And a new feather! Oh Mama, mama we must go shopping today!"

Mrs. Bennet and Kitty both responded at the same time: "But Lydia! I was going to wear my wide ribbon! Mama, mama tell her! Tell her that it's my ribbon and she shan't wear it!"

"Of course we will go shopping today, Lydia dear, and Kitty! Will you hush, child! You will share your things with your sister and let Lydia wear your ribbon. She would look much prettier in it anyway."

Lydia squealed, Kitty sulked, and Mrs. Bennet returned to her breakfast. All was quiet for a moment, then Mary piped up.

"I do not want to go to the ball. I hate balls — they are irrational and dull. I would much rather stay at home and improve my mind by reading, rather than tiring my feet by dancing and pointless conversation."

Lydia and Kitty both slumped and groaned at their sister's speech and, as one, turned to Mary and opened their mouths. But then Mr. Bennet loudly turned the page of his newspaper and cleared his throat. Both girls took the hint and left Mary alone.

After that, breakfast proceeded silently. As soon as Betsie began clearing the dishes, however, Lydia and Kitty bounced up from their seats and ran, squealing, to get their wraps to go into town. Mrs. Bennet rose as well and hurried after them, yelling for them to wait for her. Mary promptly retired to her piano stool. Jane excused herself to go write a letter, and went into the drawing room. And finally Mr. Bennet folded his paper, went to his study, and shut the door.

I sat back in relief and watched as Betsie cleared the dishes from the table. On her third trip, my mind was made up. I stood, stacked up some plates and silverware, and carried them to the kitchen. I then rolled up my sleeves, poured the hot water from the kettle into the sink, added soap, and began to wash the dishes. I didn't ask permission or if I could help, but I was so tired of sitting and doing nothing.

Ignoring the shocked look of the cook, I took another stack of dishes from a smiling Betsie. After the breakfast dishes were finished, I threw out the water, dried my hands, and rolled down my sleeves. I never knew that doing dishes could be so relaxing! It felt good to fall back into an old routine. By the time I was finished, the rest of the kitchen staff had quit gawking and went back to their chores. On my way out of the kitchen, I shared a hesitant smile with the cook.

Deciding that the next thing on my agenda would be laundry, I began to briskly walk to my room. I gathered a few dresses and aprons that were in desperate need of washing and made my way back down the stairs.

"Betsie!" I called out, seeing her about to go into the kitchen again, "Do you have a basket for laundry?"

"We do. They are by the back door, over here," she led me through the kitchen and to a small closet near the back door. "You'll find all of the cleaning supplies back here. Buckets, baskets, brooms, and scrub brushes."

"Thank you," I replied, as I grabbed a basket and dumped my clothes into it. I looked around the kitchen to see that there was a large kettle by the stove, neither of which were being used.

"Excuse me miss," Betsie broke in, "Are you planning on doing some laundry?"

"I am, so long as I don't get in anyone's way," I said and suddenly realized how stupid and unthinking of me. I was not in a house all by myself anymore. I couldn't just do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted.

"Oh no miss, you'll be in nobody's way, but wouldn't you rather one of us do your laundry?"

"No no, I do not want to inconvenience anyone," I said, as I leaned back into the closet to pluck the washboard off of a hook on the wall. "Now should I boil the water on the stove or do you have a place outside?"

"We boil the water on the stove. Are you sure you wouldn't rather one of us do it?"

I placed my basket and washboard on the floor, grabbed two buckets, and headed outside for the main water pump. "Betsie, really, I would rather do my own laundry."

"The same way you decided to wash the dishes?"

I stopped and looked back at her.

"Yes, exactly the same way," I said with a smile.

Betsie walked over to me. "If you'll excuse me a moment miss," she took one of the buckets from me and took my hand. She flipped my hand over, palm up, and ran her thumb across my old calluses. "That's what I thought," she said, and handed me my bucket again.

"What do you mean?" I asked, but I already knew.

"You may be Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but you have also done some hard labor in your life. Possibly most of your life."

"You would be correct on that," I responded, "I just . . . I can't sit down and let people wait on me all the time. I let it go on the boat, but I have had quite enough of it," I said almost angrily.

"Don't worry miss. I've never had anybody wait on me a day in my life, but I must say that it would feel strange indeed. The water pump is over there," she nodded in the direction she meant, "and we usually do our laundry by the clothes line over there," she nodded once again.

"Thank you," I said gratefully. I then quickly fell back into the routine of pumping water, heating it, and then scrubbing the clothing on the board and pinning them up. Laundry had been my absolute least favorite job, but like the dishes, it was positively relaxing.

Once I was done, I wiped the steam from my forehead and dumped the water into the garden.

"Elizabeth!" The shrill call came from Mrs. Bennet, as she huffed and puffed around the corner of the house. "There you are! What on earth are you doing girl? Oh nevermind that now," she snatched the pot from my hands and began dragging me toward the house. "We must get ready for the ball tonight! Kitty has just reminded me that if you are to go, then you must be properly dressed. And I shall have no daughter of mine go to a ball not properly dressed, so let's get you into the house. Do you have a white dress? Or a feather for your hair. I must say, your hair is so plain and brown, unlike my Jane's. My Jane is the most beautiful girl in all of Hertfordshire, but that does not mean you should look like a ragamuffin."

Mrs. Bennet's mood swings were beginning to leave me more dazed and confused than ever. I had no idea what to think.

"I do have a white dress, Mrs. Bennet," I replied, but she wasn't listening.

As soon as we were in the house, she let go of my arm. A wailing Kitty came running down the stairs, "Mama, mama tell her!"

"Oh Kitty, Mama already said I could have your ribbon. For I am prettier than you are, and therefore I deserve to look my best," Lydia replied as she flounced down the stairs.

"Oh Kitty, stop making such a ruckus," Mrs. Bennet said dismissively with a wave of her hand.

"But Mama, I am two years older than Lydia and it is my ribbon!"

I did my best to blend into the walls, but it was no use. Mrs. Bennet spotted me again and remembered her quest.

"Elizabeth! Come with me. Oh we must do something with that hair! Betsie!" Mrs. Bennet's voice rang through the entire house.

Thankfully, at that moment Jane came in from the drawing room. "Mama, I will take care of Elizabeth and help her get ready for the ball."

"Thank you, Jane my dear. I always knew you were an angel."

And with that, Jane and I went quickly up the stairs and into our room. We could still hear Mrs. Bennet and her two youngest trying to settle their difficulties.

"May I see the dress you were planning on wearing?" Jane asked, as she began rummaging around in the closet.

I went to my drawer on the dresser and pulled out the white dress that Darcy had bought for me the day before I left. It was the one I had worn to the ball in New York. Just looking at it made my throat constrict. I fought off the homesickness and turned back to Jane.

"Oh it's lovely," Jane breathed. She took it from me, and held it up. "Hm, it seems to have survived the journey quite well. It will need to be ironed of course, and maybe if we were to tie a ribbon there . . . ."

She dove back into the closet with my dress, still muttering to herself. "Ah! Here we are. This will do nicely."

She turned back with a white lace ribbon in her hand,and held it against the gown. They were the exact same shade of white, and the lace complimented the dress quite well. Jane lay the dress out on the bed and then went to the vanity and began to dig around in one of the drawers. She eventually pulled out a string of what appeared to be tiny pearls.

"We can weave these through your hair, and you will look perfect!"

I smiled. "What are you planning to wear?" I asked, walking over to the closet.

Jane came to stand beside me and pulled a beautiful gown out of the closet. It was a lovely shade of white with a very flattering cut. She also grabbed a silvery-gray ribbon which went well with the dress.

The clock in the hall downstairs struck, and I counted the tones. "It is only half past twelve! The ball is not until later tonight," I said.

"Yes, but Mama insists that we start getting ready early. She does not want us to be late by any means."

"That sounds reasonable," I replied. It would probably take quite some time for all the girls to be satisfied with their appearances, "But half past twelve?"

Jane smiled, "Perhaps it is a little too much, I'll agree. But sometimes it is better to just do what Mama wants rather than try to convince her otherwise."

I nodded. I could already see that clearly.

Jane lay both dresses out side by side across the bed and smoothed them out as best she could. "They will both need to be pressed of course," she said.

She paused and then continued in a low voice, "I saw you washing your laundry,"

I froze, unsure of how to respond. Jane turned around and looked at me, "I guessed that your life in America was not that of a fine lady. But I had not realized that you missed your home that much,as to do your own laundry. I'm sorry if your stay here has been difficult."

I stared at her. She was uncannily perceptive. It was almost unnerving.

"Thank you," I replied, "My stay has not been easy, but it is getting easier. I received a letter from my husband yesterday, and that has helped to bolster my spirits."

Jane's face lit up, "Oh! That is wonderful. I'm so glad he wrote to you."

I laughed, "Yes, as was I. But do not worry about me! For I am quite well, and you are making my stay here much easier."

"I'm glad," Jane said with another smile.

It was then time for the noon-day meal. After quickly eating, the real preparing began.

The rest of the afternoon was a flurry of, "Lydia! Give me back my ribbon!"

"No Kitty! For the last time, no! It is my ribbon now. Consider it your gift to me."

"But your birthday is not for another four months!"

And, "Betsie!"

"Oof!"

"Breathe in!"

"I can't anymore, you're hurting me!"

"Betsie!" as Kitty tried to stuff Lydia more tightly into her corset.

Poor Betsie was running around the entire house, fetching ribbons and shoes, ironing dresses, and fixing hair. All the while, she was trying to continue with her regular household chores. Jane and I ironed our own dresses because of the flurry and then Jane fixed up both her hair and mine.

At some point during all the confusion, Betise managed to pull me aside.

"Miss, I don't wish to appear too bold but I feel I should say something."

"Go on," I replied, curious.

"It's not that we don't appreciate you trying to help, we do actually! It's just that dishes and laundry are our jobs, being the servants. And we truly do like that you try to help us, but perhaps you could give us a little more warning before you do?" Betsie said all of this hesitantly, yet firmly.

I felt immediate regret, how stupid of me. I should have known better. But then again, no one had ever tried to help out while I was a servant, so I didn't know what it felt like to have someone push unwanted help on me. Nonetheless, I should have thought of that before.

"I'm sorry Betsie," I said, unsure of what else to say.

"It's alright miss. Please don't misunderstand though! We truly do appreciate your help, and it is welcomed at any time, but perhaps you could ask first? Cook has also promised to not turn you away, like she did the last time you asked if you could help."

"Thank you," I replied with a grateful smile.

Another shriek from Lydia rang through the upstairs rooms, and Betsie hurried away to help poor Kitty get Lydia into her dress.

Finally, at long last, the four of us younger girls stood in the entrance hall of the house. One of the servants, I didn't know his name yet, was bringing around the carriage. Jane was still helping Mrs. Bennet upstairs, who was fussing over her hair and whether or not a feather looked right. Mr. Bennet, being the wise man that he was, was ready to leave but still in his study, reading.

Kitty had apparently gotten over Lydia stealing her ribbon, and the two girls were giggling about seeing the militia and Mr. Wickham. I cringed every time Wickham's name was mentioned. Poor Mary looked positively miserable, as she leaned against the wall.

"Do you mind balls terribly much?" I asked her.

"I detest balls. I would much rather practice my piano or read, or even sew!" Mary replied.

I laughed, "I think I'm beginning to know how you feel," I replied, "But it will be alright! Can't you play the piano there and entertain us?"

Mary's pout grew worse, "No, I cannot, for the last time I played, Mama made me promise to never play again! She called it an awful racket."

"Well what did you play?" I asked, and when I received my reply I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

"Mary, I love your playing. But playing an old sad song like that, especially one that is usually reserved for funerals, at a ball! I'm sure everyone would love your playing if you played something more. . . joyous."

Mary sighed heavily, and I had to bite my tongue again. The poor girl. Mrs. Bennet and Jane came down the stairs then. Mrs. Bennet seemed very panicked, yelling that we were late and going to miss the ball if we didn't hurry. I saw that she had decided to wear the feather, which was a horrible gaudy thing. Jane followed her quietly,and came to stand near me. She smiled at me wearily. I felt sorry for her just then — I couldn't imagine growing up with Mrs. Bennet. Mr. Bennet came out of his study, and Mrs. Bennet hustled us out the door and into the carriage. It was dusk, and the summertime air was warm. And although I would never admit it, I found myself slightly excited about the ball.