For the next day or two, things went swimmingly. I shall not bore you with the piffling details here. We engaged in the usual social gatherings. There was tea set to the usual background strains of pianoforte supplied by the talented females of the company, with a harmony of light chatting also provided by the same able performers. Occasionally there was fishing as a slight change of pace, while the women saw us off with tolerable spirits and remained behind entertaining themselves. With what, I have no notion. Most likely more tea, pianoforte and chatting.
No doubt things would have continued in this vein for some time. Looking back on it now, perhaps it would have been preferable that it should have. I was happy with the way things were. Miss Bennet appeared to be happy also. Georgiana was happy, Bingley was happy, the Hursts certainly looked happy. I am not certain with regards to Miss Bingley – whenever I noticed her, she always was looking soulfully at some object nearby. I had observed during the course of our acquaintance that she had a proclivity of looking soulful. Dashed rummy, in my opinion, but then, one ought to make allowances for young ladies of certain ages, especially for fellows' sisters.
As a matter of fact, Miss Bingley indirectly was the source of the sudden shift – though the term 'incident,' or even 'catastrophe,' might serve just as well – that was so soon to befall us all. It all began when I recalled some words she had dropped during our stay in Hertfordshire some months past. I remembered it clearly.
"The great point to keep in mind," she had said, "is to never let them wilt."
"Wilt?" I had asked. She had been gazing soulfully at a vase just past my left shoulder. I had thought perhaps someone had placed some flowers in them, and forgotten to change the water. I had hoped I was wrong. It had not looked like anyone laid hands on the vase since Bingley took possession of Netherfield.
Miss Bingley had nodded, still steadfastly staring at the vase. Thinking that my shoulder was obstructing her view of it, I had shifted to allow her a clearer line of sight. However, she had merely returned her eyes to the page she had been revising for the last half hour. "One's relationships, I mean. Such things," she continued, "require some variety in order to progress. On quite another matter, Mr Darcy, would you care to accompany me for a turn in the garden? This space feels most enclosed."
I had thanked her politely and refused. She had obviously required some respite from the volume she had held for the previous two hours, while I had still needed to finish some letters. She had turned that soulful glance toward the vase once again, and then left. I had then completed the writing of my letters in peace, I recall, paying little attention to her words then. But somehow, I could not erase them from my head now.
Perhaps Miss Bingley was right. No matter how I enjoyed the pleasant days with my friends at Pemberley, I certainly did not wish for them to continue without end. I was began to wonder if perhaps they would, unless I took action. After some restless brooding one night, I brought up the problem with Jeeves the following morning.
He did not seem to think the matter worth the attention I was lavishing on it. "Sir," he told me gravely, "Miss Bennet has only stopped at Lambton for two days."
Really? I thought it had been much longer. "Nevertheless, Jeeves, I think it high time we made some progression on the engagement front. I don't want things to grow stale." I folded my arms beneath the bedclothes, frowning. I felt a sinking suspicion that wasn't the exact wording I was looking for.
"Stale, sir?" Jeeves asked warily, looking askance at the toast he had just brought round with the cup of tea.
"You know, get in a rut and all that rot," I elaborated.
"I now understand your meaning, sir. In that case, I think I may know just the recourse to turn to," Jeeves said, releasing the repast from his reproving stare.
"You do, Jeeves?"
"I believe so, sir. It is not an unheard-of scheme, and a generally effective one."
"Let's hear it, then!"
"It is simply this: you ought to benefit or rescue someone dear to Miss Bennet in order to earn her gratitude, and with it, a kinder eye on your suit as well as your failings."
I graciously dispensed with bringing up that bit regarding the so-called "failings," instead bestowing my attention on the buttered toast with still-steaming tea. "That's all well and good, Jeeves, but unless I am gravely mistaken, none of Miss Bennet's assorted friends and relations are in need of rescuing or similar services. Am I wrong, Jeeves?"
"No, sir. However, I think that with some effort, the desirable results could be arranged while still avoiding the actual danger inherent in such actions in normal circumstances."
"How, Jeeves?"
He explained.
It was a corker.
"Jeeves," I told him, "I do believe you've done it again."
"Thank you, sir," he replied as he gathered up the tea things. "I endeavor to meet expectations. However, such an undertaking will require some preparation, so it would be advisable for me to attend to the arrangements as soon as possible in order to be in readiness after the dinner party."
"Quite right, Jeeves. I have a letter or two I ought to send off as well to help the process. I better hop to it, then." So saying, I levered the body from beneath the covers.
"Will that be all, sir?" Jeeves questioned from the doorstep.
"Yes, thank you Jeeves. Oh, wait," I amended as a particular point struck me. "Dinner party? What dinner party?"
"The dinner party Miss Georgiana is giving tomorrow afternoon, sir. All your guests as well as Miss Bennet and her aunt and uncle are to be in attendance. I had thought that our plan should commence directly at the closing of the event."
"Ah, now I remember. That should work perfectly. Thank you, Jeeves," I said for the second time, finally allowing him to exit stage left. It served as my cue to rummage the old writing desk for a bit of pen and ink. As I settled down to compose, I allowed myself some small feelings of anticipation for the dinner party and how I would become a changed man in Miss Bennet's eyes. Tomorrow would transform our relationship forever.
Sometimes I cannot help but notice what a perspicacious fool I am.