Saturday 26th September 1812: Charles and Jane are engaged and it is "an evening of no common delight to them all", including even Mr Bennet, who, when he joins the family for supper, expresses himself happily .
Charles could list forever Jane's perfections. He sat, perched on the edge of his seat – such was the ecstatic energy within him – and let half a year's worth of formally silenced thoughts and compliments now flow free; and to these, a smiling Elizabeth listened. Now there was no denying his love for her sister.
"I don't deserve such perfection." He came to say.
"No, you don't," Elizabeth teased. "but then you see no one does, though if you continue to describe Jane so lovingly, you will be more deserving of her than anyone."
"I hope, one day... Oh but, Elizabeth, your sister is an angel!"
Elizabeth laughed. "I am glad we are of the same opinion there, brother. It seems she shall get along quite well, if we continue like this."
Soon the door quite burst open and Mrs Bennet sprang forth, instantly filling the room with her own brand of professed joy: repeated and rather ridiculous.
"Oh Mr Bingley, Mr Bingley, Jane has just told me. Oh heavens, you don't know how happy this makes me. You are too good sir, you are both too good. Oh but you shall both be so close, only three miles between us! how I shall enjoy my visits to you. Oh to see my beautiful Jane settled!..."
Charles knew only that she spoke, but heard not her words, as, when Mrs Bennet had quickly entered the room, three of her daughters had followed more slowly behind her, including Jane; and his true attention was Jane's completely.
Jane seemed to glow. Her glistening eyes sought Charles' own as soon as she re-entered that happy drawing room. Her mother was already shaking his hands heartily, thanking him, congratulating him, praising his and her daughter's goodness. Still our lovers' eyes were for each other only, and so, though Mrs Bennet spoke on, sometimes with interruption by a merry Elizabeth or unconscious acknowledgement from Charles himself, neither truly were in that room. In body, Jane sat, with her Charles stood right by her, whilst their spirits both flew high.
When Mr Bennet eventually joined the family part, just before dinner, he too appeared genuinely pleased with the present state of affairs: his cynicism was limited and any sarcasm especially playful.
He had come to accompany his wife to dinner, but found his attention drawn to his eldest daughter, handsomely settled under the adoring watch of his soon to be son-in-law.
With a father's fondness, he observed them silently, that is until his wife addressed him.
"Oh you are here at last, Mr Bennet." She said, when she noticed her husband's presence in the room.
"It does appear I am." Replied her husband.
"Oh just look at them" Mrs Bennet waved to the room's other couple. "Is not is a handsome sight?"
Mr Bennet resumed his watch over his daughter and her lover.
Jane lowered her eyes shyly under examination, failing to hide pinking cheeks. Yet, as in reaction to the older couple, Charles had chuckled, within seconds she found her head raised and herself giggling too, for his self and laugh immediately reassured and cheered her.
"For once, Mrs Bennet, I believe you may be right." Said Mr Bennet with a smile. "But we cannot stare at them all evening, not when we have food to eat."
"Oh yes supper! I quite forgot with all this merriment going on."
Bustling up off a sofa, she secured her husband's arm and then turned to Charles. "Mr Bingley, I do hope you like crayfish, oh and hare –"
"Whatever you serve, madam," Said Mr Bingley. "I will always be more than happy to eat."
And so it was, with these words spoken, that the party gradually rose from their seats, some offering arms and some happily accepting them.
Indeed Jane sedately stood from her chair and was delighted to accept Charles's eagerly offered arm. Sure yet light, her hand lay on his.
This renewed touch was simple but wonderful: neither wore gloves, so soft strokes of fingers tickled sweetly. It seemed each body's breathing was shared through this small feeling.
Their eyes smiled to each other.
Slow were they in their movement from that room – so much so that, as they ambled behind, they managed a second, between rooms, out of sight of the others.
In a cute little sequence, Jane rose up on her toes, enabling Charles to press his lips lightly and quickly to the rose of her cheek. Their bodies stayed close and his lips lingered; she could hear him now whisper, but too briefly, of his love, to which she whispered an equally rushed reply of her happiness.
"I don't know how I ever lived before, without you, my love."
"Neither I. Oh Charles, how did I live without this happiness?"
But this scene must end too quickly, for there was no time to say a word more without being missed. Thus they stepped apart and, arm on arm, followed the way into the dining room.