Early the following day, Elizabeth wrote a letter to her parents informing them of Kitty's illness and their decision to remain at Netherfield. A reply was sent with the same messenger, asking Elizabeth for more details of Kitty's illness. From the handwriting and tone of the note, it was clear Mrs. Bennet was anxious for her youngest, as her constitution had never been as strong as that of her sisters. She put off replying again until after Kitty had been awake for a while and had eaten, for hopefully she might be able to write of some improvement.
While Kitty still slept, Elizabeth went down to breakfast. To her surprise, when she arrived at the breakfast parlour, she heard the low murmur of conversation, and saw Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley already there. They bowed in greeting to her, and Mr. Bingley offered to fetch her a plate of food from the sideboard. Not wanting to offend her host, she reluctantly accepted his offer and specified her preferences. He obliged with a smile, and she thanked him upon the delivery of her food. Each of the gentlemen asked after her sister and were distressed to hear of her worsened condition. Mr Bingley's concern for Kitty's wellbeing, despite Elizabeth's dislike of his attention to herself, spoke volumes of his character. As for Mr. Darcy's remarks, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel a twinge of scepticism as he showed concern, remembering the cutting remark he had made at the assembly. The rest of breakfast was mostly quiet, and Elizabeth had just finished eating when Miss Bingley and the Hursts came in.
They repeated the inquiries after Kitty's health. Mr. Hurst replied that it was "too bad" that the young lady was still ill. The sisters, on hearing that Miss Catherine was not improved, repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill themselves, and then thought no more of the matter. Their attention was soon engrossed by their plates and Mr. Darcy, as he was the principal object of both sisters' attention.
A housemaid soon arrived to inform Elizabeth her sister was awake. Thankful to be able to leave the breakfast room without being rude, she departed with all haste. Upon her arrival in Kitty's chambers, she found her sister sitting up and taking a little gruel and tea.
Elizabeth asked how Kitty felt and was told that she felt like she imagined one might after having been run over by a chaise and four. It was decided, with some persuasion by Elizabeth, that both Mary, who had some experience in tending the ill as a rector's wife, and the apothecary ought to be called for. Upon applying to Mr. Bingley for his consent to send footmen to accomplish these errands, he agreed immediately. His sisters were convinced that no country advice could be of any service and recommended an express to town for one of the most eminent physicians. This Elizabeth thought unnecessary, for Mr. Jones had treated all of her family's illnesses for as long as she could remember. This violent cold of Kitty's was not beyond his skill.
Mr. Jones arrived within a half hour of the note being sent. He agreed with Elizabeth's supposition that Kitty had caught a violent cold from becoming damp the previous day and that she ought to rest for several days. He left draughts to soothe the cough and allow Kitty to sleep, giving also instructions to the maids on the foods and drinks she ought to have and avoid. Mary arrived a little later with her husband to accompany her. Her opinion was similar to the apothecary's, but also she had a trunk for her sisters from Longbourn. Elizabeth was thankful, for she had not yet sent for a supply of clothes, and she did not wish to put out Mr. Bingley's sisters anymore than she already had. Additionally, Mary had advice for her other sister.
"You, Lizzy, must not remain in Kitty's room all day and night," said Mary. "You will breathe too much of the foul air of the sickroom and become ill yourself. You must let the maids tend to her much of the time, taking plenty of fresh air."
Elizabeth begrudgingly acknowledged that her sister was very likely right. When she admitted that she had passed the whole of the night at Kitty's side, Mary soundly scolded her. "You must leave the sickroom at once and not come back for at least three or four hours. Ben and I can tend to Kitty for now."
As Elizabeth retreated to take a walk out of doors, she thought to herself that marriage had made Mary rather authoritative. She was not certain she liked her younger sister ordering her about in such a manner.
Elizabeth ambled through the gardens of Netherfield. No doubt the gardens would be beautiful in May, but in November they were filled with the sound of the bleak wind rustling through the dead plants. This was not the sight one wanted to see when tending an ailing sister. Even more unwelcome was the sight of the person who came up the nearby path and greeted Elizabeth with a bow.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy." She curtsied to him. Unfortunately, it would have been exceedingly rude to not take the arm he offered to her. Despite her strong aversion to him, she had been taught by her parents to act with proper decorum and it was a habit difficult to break, even when provoked.
However, when Mr. Darcy asked after Elizabeth's sister, she could not help but make a little sport of him. "She is doing tolerably well. Mr. and Mrs. Hadley are with her now. We hope to tempt her to take a little more food and tea today than she was able to take this morning."
Mr. Darcy did not seem to take her hidden meaning. He merely replied that he always added a spoonful of honey to his sister's gruel when she was ill, so that the sweetness of the honey could entice her to eat it. Begrudgingly, Elizabeth admitted to herself that the advice was good. She had thought of adding fruit to sweeten it, but Mary had said that was not a good idea. As Kitty was already taking tea with honey, the same in the gruel could only be beneficial.
They talked of very little of consequence as they walked about the gardens. Elizabeth was glad to be out of doors, even if was in unpleasant company. Elizabeth grew uneasy when the silence between her and her companion lingered for too long. She searched for something to say. "How old is Miss Darcy?" she asked.
"She is fifteen. Sixteen very soon," he replied.
"Have you other siblings?"
"No. It is just she and I. Our parents are both gone and there were no other surviving children."
Elizabeth felt a stab of pain at his words. This gentleman had experienced the same loss that she had, only his had been twice as great, having lost both of his parents. It sounded as if there had been multiple other siblings as well. She did not ask what happened, for that was far too personal for such a slight acquaintance. He wore no black armband, so his loss was not recent.
"She is only slightly younger than Kitty. Kitty is seventeen."
"I had not realised Miss Catherine was so young," said Mr. Darcy. "I thought her only a year or so younger than you."
"Ah, I see you have the order of birth in my family confused. Although Mrs. Hadley is married, she is a year younger than I. My sister Jane, who is married and lives in London, is the eldest. Then I. Then Mrs. Hadley. Then Kitty."
"I see," Mr. Darcy said.
Elizabeth peered over at him and found his face a strange mixture of emotions. "Yes. She is only just out. The Meryton assembly was only the second ball she has ever attended."
"Did she enjoy it?" he asked.
"She did. She only sat down for a few sets, and found the whole evening very pleasant. I confess that I did not enjoy the evening as well as she did, for I overheard a gentleman saying some very unkind remarks that I hope never get back to their subject."
Mr. Darcy paled at her words. "I did not know she was so young."
"Is that any excuse, sir?" Elizabeth demanded as she firmly removed her arm from his grip. "Would it be more gentlemanly for you to have said such a thing if you had been speaking of myself or Miss Lucas? I am relieved that I was the only one who could hear your harsh words, for I do not wish to think of how my sister might have responded if she had been the one to hear your insult."
"Within ten minutes of entering the room that evening, I heard people speculating on my income and that of my friend and comparing our relative looks," Mr. Darcy replied severely. "Then, for the next hour, I had young ladies thrust at me for introductions, no doubt because the mothers all considered both me and Mr. Bingley to already be the rightful property of some one or other off their daughters, regardless of how we might feel about such a thing. So forgive me if I did not wish to dance."
"It is not about your not dancing, you ignoramus!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Edgar never dances. No one minds overly much — although it is a little odd. It is your manner of looking down on everyone around you as if we are beneath your notice. You sit at the edge of the room, scrutinising us for any mistakes instead of conversing, trying to find fault with us. Yet, you insult young ladies to whom you have not even been introduced. Perhaps the matrons in the area were over excited about two single gentlemen coming into the area, but their behaviour does not excuse yours!"
With that, Elizabeth hurried away from Mr. Darcy, her chin held aloft in defiance. She did not go back indoors, for she did not wish to see anyone just then. Instead, she began down the path towards Oakham Mount. Before long, mud splattered her petticoats and the wind ruffled her hair, for she had carelessly neglected to wear her bonnet, which she was often prone to do. She knew she would be a sight to behold upon her return, but she did not care. Let them despise her if they wished!
She soon saw the familiar rise ahead of her and hastened her steps, the smell of grass and dirt filling her nose. With her skirt billowing in the wind, she raced up the hill, her breath coming in ragged gasps, not caring if anyone saw her running in a manner unbefitting of a proper lady. When she reached the summit, she stopped and caught her breath and stared out at the fields. They were empty now; all the crops had been hastily harvested prior to the start of the rain. A few farmers worked in the fields to prepare the land for the spring, but there was not the same urgency in the work that there had been in the previous weeks.
Elizabeth sat on the brown grass and began to pluck at it while she watched a tenant farmer teaching his son how to fix a piece of equipment that evidently was not working as it ought. Her thoughts slowly disappeared as she admired the vast landscape of her home county and listened to birdsong filled the air as the fowl made their way south for the winter.
She was unaware, but she was herself admired in that moment. Mr. Darcy had followed her at a distance. His aim was not to frighten or infuriate her. He was concerned that she may come to some accident or get lost due to her to going off unaccompanied while displeased with him. Seeing that she knew this place and the paths that led to and from it well, he decided it was best to return to Netherfield. He left her to her solitude.