Mr. Collins was obliged to return to Hunsford on Christmas Eve so he could give the sermon. His going was lamented by the Lucases, who were saddened that he had not yet made their daughter an offer and had made no immediate plans to return. It seemed Lady Catherine was in need of his ministering and had recalled him. He was still fixed on marrying Miss Bennet, although he saw her less when not staying at Longbourn. Other than his always requesting a dance whenever there was dancing, Elizabeth was almost always able to avoid him.

The holidays passed by in the typical fashion, with a great deal of merriment and gifts for the children and tenants. The ninth of January saw the news of Miss Darcy and Mr Bingley's wedding released in the society pages. The bride looked very lovely in the drawing in the paper, although she did not appear to be smiling.

"I do wonder how it came to pass that anyone found out," said Mrs. Bennet that morning, when she and her eldest unmarried daughter were alone at breakfast.

"What do you mean?" asked Elizabeth.

"Well, I did not even know the lady's name, so I did not spread it about. I assume, at least, that she is the lady whose reputation you were worried about." Mrs. Bennet was quite tired of Elizabeth's distance towards her. She regretted that her actions had negatively affected Mrs. Bingley in such a way, but their people also needed to be warned to protect them.

"Mr. Wickham, or at least that is what I assume." Elizabeth set aside the paper. "Mr. Darcy was worried that he would spread the tale about her. That is why he asked me not to tell and why I asked you not to warn anyone specifically about Mr. Wickham."

Mrs. Bennet's face tightened as she recalled that her daughter had asked her not to share Mr. Wickham's name and she had dismissed Lizzy's concerns. She had assumed that she had known the best course of action and had not stopped to think if there was a way to lessen the consequences to the unknown lady. She had showed such a selfish disdain for the feelings of others!

"I am sorry, my love. I should have listened and tried to find a better solution," said Mrs. Bennet.

"I should not have told you at all. It was not my place to do so. I should have known that you would wish to act to protect our people," Elizabeth replied.

"I do not want you to feel that you cannot confide in me, dearest. You should be able to trust your parents with your secrets. I was too concerned for the safety of you, your sister, and our neighbours that I did not consider Mr. Darcy or others."

"You acted as you believed was best, Mother," said Elizabeth. "There is nothing to forgive."

Mrs. Bennet embraced Elizabeth but quickly released her when a servant entered with a fresh pot of coffee.

Kitty followed shortly after the servant, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Good morning," she said with a large yawn. Her mother and sister greeted her. "Is Papa still abed?"

"Your father is not feeling well this morning," said Mrs. Bennet. "I think it is just a trifling cold, but I would not allow him to leave his room, lest he worsen or make any others ill as well."

"I hope he shall be well," said Kitty with a frown. "He is not often ill."

"People do not die of trifling colds, my love," Mrs. Bennet assured her. "He will be well soon, just as you were when you were ill at Netherfield."

Kitty was cheered by this, for although that cold had been a particularly violent illness, she had recovered in short order. Still, she had been nursed by her sister and she was much younger than her father.

"As Hill and I will nurse him," said Mrs. Bennet. "Do not worry yourself. We shall take precautions so we are not exposed to too much of the miasma."

Mrs. Bennet then directed the conversation to happier matters. The discussion that occupied most of their morning was that of the upcoming assembly in Meryton. They occurred nearly monthly, but December was the exception. Everyone was far too busy to be able to worry about a ball. In November, Kitty had been ill during the ball, although this disappointment was lessened by the ball at Netherfield. So much had happened since the last time they attended the Meryton assembly. Elizabeth could scarcely believe she was the same person.

"If Father is still ill, will we still attend?" asked Kitty.

"It is still a few days away, so we shall hope he is well by then. However, so long as he is mending well, I do not see why you cannot. If I cannot attend, Mary may act as your chaperone if she is willing," answered Mrs. Bennet. "If she cannot and I cannot either, then you will have to stay home as well."

This seemed sensible to both Elizabeth and Kitty. Although they began to plan what they might wear, they did not become overly excited in case they could not attend.

"Well," said Lady Lucas. "I always knew Mr. Wickham was a scoundrel. It serves him right!"

Elizabeth was not entirely certain what Lady Lucas was speaking of, but she had to agree that he got what he deserved — assuming it was unpleasant.

"Poor Miss King," said Mrs. Phillips. "He used her so ill. I am glad that her uncle took her away before he could fleece her of any more of her pin money."

"I do wonder who called in the debt collectors. Do you think Miss King kept the bills of debt?" Lady Lucas pondered aloud.

Elizabeth stopped listening then, for she had been taught not to eavesdrop. It was unkind and often resulted in one hearing what they ought not. However, in this case, she was certain that Lady Lucas and Mrs. Phillips would have the word spread clear across the county before the week was through. Did it count as eavesdropping if you were going to find out in a few days anyhow?

Mary caught Elizabeth's eye and gestured for her to come nearer. She did so, and Mary urged her to not go off out of her sight. "It is quite difficult to chaperone two sisters at once, particularly as you are shorter than nearly everyone here. It is so difficult to lose you in the crowd."

"I am sorry. I was just going to find Charlotte, but I could not see her either."

Mary waved her concern away. "I do trust you, and honestly, I feel a little silly being my elder sister's chaperone. Ah! There is Kitty!" Mary gestured to Kitty.

"How long are we to stay?" asked Kitty when she was nearer.

"As long as you wish, or at least until Ben tires of the assembly. He has been trying to help me chaperone you both, but he keeps being pulled aside for this matter or that." Mary nodded to where her husband stood speaking with Sir William, who seemed to be enthusiastic about his subject of conversation, if his wide gestures were indicative of his mood.

After Kitty went off to dance with Mr. Long, Elizabeth said quietly to Mary, "Should we not return early so we can relieve Mother? She will be caring for him by herself."

"The servants will assist her, Lizzy," said Mary. "I will also check on him this evening, and see that all of his tonics and powders are refilled."

Elizabeth watched as her sister hopped and skipped around Mr. Long. "Do you think Papa is seriously ill?" she asked, not taking her eyes from the merry scene before her.

"I do not. He is simply older and will take longer to recover," her sister assured her.

By the time they returned to Longbourn, most of the house was dark. Mary left her tonics and powders with Hill, so she did not have to wake her parents. She promised to call he next morning so she could see how he did. "Mother needs to be made to rest as well," said Mary to the housekeeper. "It will not do if she tires herself and becomes ill as well. Try to encourage her to allow the servants to watch over him at night. I cannot believe she is sleeping well if he is coughing as much as Kitty says."

"Next time they wake, I will ensure that she goes to a different room to sleep, Miss-madam," assured the housekeeper, smiling at the slip. "I apologise. I am not used to calling you anything but Miss Mary."

"It is quite peculiar for me as well. I look around for Ben's mother when someone calls out my name," Mary replied, before bidding the housekeeper goodnight.

All were relieved the next day when Mary came out from seeing Mr. Bennet and announced that his fever had broken and that he had half a cup of beef tea. In fact, she said, he would likely be difficult to keep abed. He was feeling much better, but ought still to rest. It would not do for him to tire himself too much when he was still ailing.

His recovery was steady, with his strength rising every day. He was persuaded to remain abed when Mr. Hadley offered to go the circulating library and collect the books that Mr. Bennet had ordered. As this was Mr. Bennet's chief motivation for wishing to be out of bed, he agreed. Being sick is much more pleasant when there is amusement to be had.

Since his fever was broken, Mary and Mrs. Bennet felt it was permissible for Kitty and Elizabeth to tend to their father as well. Elizabeth spent a great deal of time with him, which he liked to say was on account of the fact that it rained five days in a row. She protested this charge, but had to admit that she was wishing for amusement, which a game of chess with her father provided.

Mr. Bennet still felt his family was being overly cautious, as they did not allow him to come downstairs for several days. "Having met Mr. Collins, you cannot countenance his being master of Longbourn," he teased. "That is why you are overprotective of me."

"Do not speak so," chastised his wife. "We love you and would wish you to live a long while, even if there was no entail."

"Of course, my love," said Mr. Bennet. "You are right. I should not tease you about my passing. It is just frustrating to be treated as an invalid."

Mrs. Bennet kissed her husband's cheek. "Then you must do as we say so you can recover fully soon, and then you may go about as you wish."