Elizabeth was fortunate enough to have avoided Mr. Bingley's call to give the Bennets the invitation to the ball he was hosting. The gentleman was not terrible, but she did wish he would direct his interest elsewhere. He followed her around, his eyes sparkling with hope just as the horses looked when they expected an apple or carrot from her. Only the horses had much more basis for their hope than Mr. Bingley did.

The rain that followed his invitation was a mixed blessing. It did spare her from being called on by him, but it trapped her in the house with Mr. Collins. There was no walking to Meryton to see her sister and aunt, no friends, no walking out, no anything. Even the shoe roses for the ball had to be got by proxy.

Mr. Collins did not let up his pursuit of Elizabeth, either. He often sought her out and attempted to court her good opinion. Unfortunately, he often insulted her or one of her sisters in his clumsy attempts. He also spoke at great length about Lady Catherine. Upon learning that the great lady was widowed and her daughter was unmarried, Elizabeth wondered to herself why he did not offer himself there instead. He seemed to be in love with the ladies of Rosings Park.

To prevent herself from being overly much in his company, both Elizabeth and Kitty took refuge in their rooms more often than not. This was an adequate solution, but rather uninteresting. All there was to do in their rooms was embroidery and reading. They were not permitted to paint in their rooms lest they stain the carpets and the pianoforte could not be moved thither. Both sisters rather wished that they had taken up a more portable instrument, such as the flute.

With his invitation to the ball, Mr. Bingley had also asked that a request for Miss Bennet's first two dances be forwarded to her. She accepted, of course, as she did not wish to sit out for the entire evening. She did not know if she ought to feel thankful or not for this, for it did prevent her from having to accept the same offer from Mr. Collins. Instead, Kitty had that doubtful honour. Elizabeth was not spared entirely, having been forced by etiquette to grant Mr. Collins a set later in the evening.

Her dance partners were not Elizabeth's only concern on the evening of the ball, however. She knew that her parents had made the local populace aware of the danger in trusting too much in the officers, particularly Mr. Wickham. They claimed the Gardiners as their source, as she was from Derbyshire, as was the gentleman. Most accepted their warning, but a few refused to believe that a man so amiable as Mr. Wickham could be wicked. One went so far as to send a note back to Mr. Bennet warning him that Mr. Darcy was spreading slander about Mr. Wickham and that it was he, not Wickham, who was not to be trusted around ladies. As the Bennets knew neither man well, they warned their daughters to be diligent in general, for they had only the word of each about the other.

Considering this, until she arrived in the drawing-room at Netherfield, Elizabeth had not considered that Mr. Wickham might be present. She had taken for granted that Mr. Bingley would not invite his dear friend's enemy to the ball, but she was apparently wrong to have done so. When she heard his loud laugh from across the room, dread filled her stomach. She wondered what he was laughing about. Was he spreading gossip about the lady that Mr. Darcy loved?

Elizabeth did not have time to think on this much, for Mr. Bingley was coming towards her. He was everything charming and pleasant, but she did not wish to be speaking with him at the moment. She needed to find and speak to Mr. Darcy, but she did not see him.

"Is Mr. Darcy not in attendance?" asked Elizabeth of Mr. Bingley.

Mr. Bingley was surprised at this non sequitur, for he had been telling her of his returning to town in a few days on business. "He is here somewhere. I do not see him now, but I saw him a quarter-hour ago."

Elizabeth thanked Mr. Bingley and told him that she hoped his business in town would be successful. He went on to explain more about the matter then. Apparently, he was to sell off the last of his father's factories, cutting all ties to trade. She thought this rather foolish, although that opinion was not likely popular. If a person tied up all their income in their estate, a bad harvest could be terrible for them. If they had other interests, it was not so devastating. As Mr. Bingley's decisions did not materially affect her, however, she wished him luck in the endeavour and pleasant travels.

The music then started, and he led her into the dance. Elizabeth grimaced when she heard several of her neighbours begin to speculate about the meaning of them dancing the first set together. Mr. Bingley's attention to her had not been unnoticed by her neighbours and she did not wish to insult the gentleman by proclaiming to all that she had no intention of becoming Mrs. Bingley.

During the dance, Elizabeth managed to keep their conversation light and pleasant, steering well clear of anything but topics she would feel equally as comfortable discussing with Sir William or Mr. King.

When Elizabeth looked over at where her sister was dancing with Mr. Collins, she found that Kitty did not look to be enjoying herself whatsoever. Mr. Collins, awkward and solemn, often moved wrong without being aware of it. Once Elizabeth even heard Kitty squeak in pain when Mr. Collins stepped on her foot quite hard. Instead of then paying better attention to the steps, he spent a great deal of time and effort making verbose apologies to her while the other dancers were made to step around him. He, apparently, could not talk and dance at the same time.

Once again, Mr. Bingley proved himself at least the superior of Mr. Collins. While he did not have her affection, he was not an unpleasant man, and he danced well. He did not step on her toes or turn the wrong way. He smelled like nothing that Elizabeth could detect and tried to ensure the experience was pleasant for his partner.

Elizabeth felt a little selfish as she considered him. If she were to marry such a man, her family would not have to worry for anything once her father had gone to his final reward. There was nothing wrong with him, unless one counted his sisters. He would no doubt be a very kind husband to whoever he married. She likely would not be unhappy in such a life. Yet, she could not see herself finding happiness either. Contentment and the safety of being well-married was what he could offer her.

Elizabeth was glad when the dance was over. Mr. Bingley led her to Charlotte, who smiled approvingly at what she viewed as Elizabeth's attempts to encourage him. She denied such a charge when Charlotte mentioned it to her after Mr. Bingley had gone away.

"Surely you cannot mean to accept Mr. Collins over Mr. Bingley," said Charlotte.

"I do not mean to accept either of them."

Charlotte was all astonishment at this.

"I do not need to marry. With my mother's cottage and our smallish, but respectable dowries, not to mention my married sisters, I will not enter a marriage unless I wish to do so. I do not fear being an old maid. Perhaps such a status might even be welcome."

"You do not mean that," said Charlotte firmly. "Truly, you cannot."

"I assure you that I do."

Charlotte could not think of anything that she might say to her friend that would not be rude. Therefore, she excused herself before she could harm their friendship. Nearly as soon as she did so, her place was taken by Mr. Darcy, who appeared suddenly in front of Elizabeth.

"Will you honour me with the next?" he asked her.

Elizabeth agreed with some trepidation, for she knew not what to tell him about what Mrs. Bennet had done. For the first several minutes, there was little conversation between them. Elizabeth was glad for this, for she could gather her thoughts. When the dance brought them together again, she inhaled deeply and looked at Mr. Darcy. He was focused on the dance, but her assessment of him drew his notice.

"I must confess something, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth when she gathered her nerve.

Darcy looked at her askance. "Indeed?"

"Yes. I- I had to tell my mother what you told me. We have to warn our people, the merchants, our friends. We will not tell everything, of course, but we must warn them that not all militia members are to be trusted, with credit and with their daughters and sisters. I did not plan to tell her, but my mother always knows when I have something on my mind, and my conscience was troubling me over it."

Mr. Darcy's face had turned rigid as Elizabeth spoke. "Very well, madam."

"Pray, do not be angry. You must think of what you would do if you were in my position or that of my parents. We do not know the lady involved, and while we know you, you have some ability to protect yourself due to your position and wealth. The shopkeepers and their daughters have not that same ability." Elizabeth looked pleadingly at Mr. Darcy.

"You certainly must act as you consider best," he said coldly.

The dance took them a part for some time. Elizabeth watched Mr. Darcy as he moved through the steps, his face sterner than she had ever before seen it. Other than a muttered "I am sorry" from her to him when the dance again brought them together once more and his thanking her for the dance when it was complete, they spoke no more. A few people might have found this odd, as it is unusual for there to be so little conversation between two people for a half-hour together. However, Meryton well knew Mr. Darcy's taciturn nature, so it was not so much of note as it would have been if he had been any other man.

She danced next with Mr. Goulding, the younger. He was a pleasant gentleman who had no designs on Elizabeth. His dancing was good but not splendid, and the benefit of long acquaintance allowed them to converse on several topics without much effort on his partner's part.

As Mr. Goulding made to return Elizabeth to her sister and mother, she was approached by another who wished to ask her to dance. Mr. Wickham came up to her family and asked how they fared that evening.

"Very well, Mr. Wickham," said Mrs. Bennet. "What can we do for you?"

Mr. Wickham was surprised at being addressed by the matriarch of the family, as he had not yet been introduced to her. He did not falter, however, and instead asked if Miss Bennet might introduce him to her mother. She did so. In the subsequent conversation, Elizabeth could barely reply with tolerable civility to the polite inquiries he addressed to her. Attendance, forbearance, patience with Mr. Wickham, was injury to Mr. Darcy. Refraining from being overly rude, she gave the most concise answers she could.

"I wished to know, Miss Bennet, if you would wish to dance the next set with me," said Mr. Wickham when the dancers began to line up.

Seeing Mr. Collins also approaching, she said, "I cannot. I have promised this next set to my cousin. Good evening."

Mr. Collins had been looking for her for some time. She had guaranteed him a set, but never informed him which one she had reserved for him.

"This next set, sir," said she. She never would have imagined that she might look forward to a dance with Mr. Collins so much or that the sight of him would be so welcome.

Her cousin was gladdened to see that his attempts at wooing her seemed to be succeeding, as her manner was considerably warmer towards him than it formerly had been. He hoped this increase in regard would continue, for she was quite pretty and would make a very fine wife. He had recently learned of the villainy of his father and uncle towards Mr. Bennet, although he did not dare speak of such things or even hint of such for fear of offending his host. He was, however, determined to make amends by marrying one of his cousins. That Mr. Bennet might be reluctant to believe him was justified. Therefore, he would be persistent. He was not his ill-tempered father, but a man of the cloth.

Mr. Collins was quieter than his typical wont during their dance. Elizabeth supposed that he might have learned from a previous partner that it was best to choose dancing as one's primary focus if it is too difficult to speak and dance at the same time. Charlotte Lucas was no doubt the person who had taught him this — likely very kindly so as to not embarrass him — as she had been the last person to dance with him. During the portion of the dance where they were waiting to move down the line, and the steps were less complex, he gave way to his usual loquacity. He compared the drawing-room at Netherfield to that of Rosings. The wallpaper was of a similar style, and very fine indeed. The drawing-room at Rosings was, of course, larger, and the wall sconces at Netherfield did not look nearly as expensive as the ones Lady Catherine had in her home.

Elizabeth responded politely to all of Mr. Collins's observations, although he hardly needed an interlocutor for what was, in essentials, a lecture. She spent much more of her time watching others in the room. Mr. Darcy was glaring at her from where he stood at the edge of the room. His displeasure had apparently returned him to his former unpleasant manners. Mr. Bingley was watching her with a soft fondness that made her stomach uncomfortable. Mr. Wickham who moved through the room with ease, somehow still able to charm some in attendance.

Of course, she also looked for her relations. The Hadleys were in attendance and were further down the line of the dance. Although married couples did not typically dance together in town, Meryton had never followed this convention. Kitty was dancing with Captain Carter, who had been decided to be one of the acceptable officers by her mother. She had looked into the background of many of the officers after what they had learned of Wickham, finding that Carter was of respectable family and none in town had anything ill to say of him. Her mother and father were sitting down, watching the dancers with pleased looks on their faces. Mr. and Mrs. Phillips were off somewhere in the card room.

When the dance ended, Mr. Collins brought her to her father and mother, bowing over her hand before releasing her. He was about to ask her for another dance later in the evening, but a stern look from Mrs. Bennet stopped his request midway through.

"My daughters are not to accept a second set from anyone without the approval of myself or my husband, as I am sure you know what a second set implies. You are not one of the gentlemen we have given them permission to dance twice with, so you had best make your application to me or my husband first, although I doubt the answer would be favourable."

Mr. Collins backed away with apologies and went to find Miss Maria Lucas instead, as he had not yet danced with her. He had decided that focusing his efforts that evening on the particular friends of the Bennets would serve him well, for surely that must raise him in their estimation. Even he, a man of mean understanding, could not fail to sense the coldness that the Bennets displayed towards him. He knew he would need to show them the benefits that an alliance with him and a connexion to the illustrious Lady Catherine de Bourgh would provide.

Mr. Wickham again approached. "I had not a chance earlier to ask, Miss Bennet, if you had any other sets that you might grant me this evening."

"I am sorry, Mr. Wickham," said Elizabeth. "All the dances that I intend to dance have already been claimed."

Mr. Wickham bowed in acceptance, but did not go away. Instead, he began to speak with Mr. Bennet about his library. Mr. Bennet had a particular interest in Egypt and Egyptian history. Mr. Wickham had a friend who had served under Rear-Admiral Sir Horatio Nelson in the Navy during the Battle of the Nile. Despite his dislike of the man and his principles, Mr. Bennet could not help being drawn into conversation about the beautiful country and its antiquities. Elizabeth moved away while the men began to discuss the Rosetta Stone, which had been moved to the British Museum a decade before.

She spent much of the evening dancing, as she had only two sets on her card that were not filled. During those sets, she retreated to the retiring room or elsewhere where Mr. Collins and Mr. Bingley could not find her, for escaping her suitors was her principal goal for the evening. She decided that she would need to speak to Mr. Bingley soon, for he was a kind man and she did not like to waste his time in this way. She hoped he would be understanding, for it would be very awkward for him to be their neighbour if he did not.

The Bennets were one of the first families to leave that evening, as Mr. Bennet was not one who liked to remain out until the early hours of the morning. He had to be up in the morning to meet with one of the tenants and had many other things to do during the day. He could not lie abed being indolent. Mr. Bingley expressed his disappointment that they should leave before the dancing was done, but Mr. Bennet was firm to his purpose. They said goodnight, with Mr. Bingley bowing over each lady's hand in turn.

"I wonder, Miss Bennet, if when I return from town, I could have a private audience with you," he whispered as the others put on their outerwear.

"I do not think that a good idea, Mr. Bingley," said Elizabeth.

Mr. Bingley looked confused. "Indeed? Why not? I assure you my intentions are honourable."

"I do not wish for you to have intentions towards me, sir. I am sorry to have to do this now, so publicly, but while you are a fine gentleman, I do not think of you as anything but a pleasant neighbour."

"Oh," said Mr. Bingley, his face downcast. "I see. I am sorry to have disturbed you, Miss Bennet."

"I hope we shall continue as friends, Mr. Bingley," offered Elizabeth with a gentle smile.

"Of course, Miss Bennet," he replied. He shook himself lightly and smiled at the group as a whole. "Good evening. Have a safe journey home, my friends."

"Thank you, sir," said Elizabeth, before turning to exit.