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“What a cacophony! That could not be called music,” Miss Bingley declared on their way home from the Crane’s musical evening. “There was not a single performance worth hearing.”

“Except for ours,” Mrs. Hurst pointed out.

“That goes without saying. But the local ladies have neither taste nor talent. Miss Elizabeth’s lack of skill was particularly noticeable. I lost count of all the mistakes she made. It is obvious that she has never taken any instruction.”

“She has never practised much either,” Mr. Darcy blithely said, “Yet I found her performance delightful. I think it must be something in her air.”

Miss Bingley’s mouth hung open for half a minute before she found the voice to continue speaking. “At least Miss Elizabeth tried to learn an instrument. I am astounded that Miss Bennet never bothered. I hope you noticed that, Charles.”

“It would have been impossible not to since she was sitting beside me the whole evening,” he nonchalantly replied.

“You ought to take this more seriously,” she snapped. “Music is a skill which every lady should cultivate.”

“I don’t see why.”

“Because it is a worthwhile way in which to pass her time. And so that she can entertain her husband.”

“What nonsense,” Mr. Bingley scoffed. “Plenty of men do not care whether their wives can play the pianoforte. And if they want to be entertained, they can always go out to see a play.”

“Why must you be so difficult? Fashionable gentlemen seek accomplished wives.”

“Why must you be so particular? I do not care whether or not my wife can play the pianoforte. And I do not wish to hear criticism of Miss Bennet. Can you not discover anything nice about her?”

At this Miss Bingley gave up the subject of music, but only to move on to an account of what Mrs. Bennet had said and Lydia had done.

“None of these trifling concerns matter to me,” Mr. Bingley said. “I do wish that you would stop finding fault with Miss Bennet’s family and make more of an effort at getting to know them.”

But Miss Bingley only protested that her concerns were not trifling.

She raised them again after their next party, opening her report by saying “You won’t believe what Mrs. Bennet said this evening.”

“It is very likely that I will not,” Mr. Bingley responded. “You are excessively determined to think the worst of her, Caroline.”

“And you are excessively determined to think the best without any justification. But you must hear what she said this evening. It concerns Miss Bennet. Apparently she has had a great many admirers since the age of fifteen.”

“There is nothing in that. Pretty young ladies often have admirers.”

“Yes, but Mrs. Bennet spoke of having instructed her daughter in the ways of encouraging gentlemen. And Miss Bennet was so obliging as to follow all her mother’s instructions.

It is exactly as I have been trying to get you to understand.

They have been putting on an act from the moment of meeting you.

And you have been deceived by this charade. ”

“I have not been deceived because there hasn’t been any charade. Artifice is not in Miss Bennet’s nature.”

“You do not know her well enough to be certain of that.”

“I believe that I do. But if that isn’t enough for you, consider the matter from a different perspective.

A lady with such experience in pursuing and deceiving gentlemen would presumably have caught herself one long before now.

This story itself is the evidence against it being true. And I do not want to hear any more.”

But Miss Bingley continued. “There is an obvious reason why none of those admirers fell victim. They had the sense to see that Miss Bennet has nothing to recommend her. No fortune, no accomplishment, no connections. No proper education, no understanding of high society. No ability to be a useful wife.”

“No more,” Mr. Bingley cried. “You are wasting my time with this absurd criticism.”

But Miss Bingley only endeavoured to explain why it wasn’t absurd or a waste of time.

***

“Maybe this is a waste of time,” Mrs. Hurst said. “Charles just doesn’t care. He is too far gone.”

“We shall pull him back from the abyss,” Miss Bingley growled.

***

“It’s always something every time we go out,” Mr. Bingley lamented to Mr. Darcy as they rode in the direction of Longbourn the next morning.

“And there is a little validity in some of what Caroline says. But this notion of Miss Bennet being artful simply isn’t possible.

I can’t deny that her mother might have advised her to encourage admirers.

I accept that Mrs. Bennet is eager to get her daughters married, and that she has probably told them how to get themselves husbands, but I do not believe that this included being deceitful. ”

“Advice to flirt and be high-spirited is more likely,” Mr. Darcy said, thinking of Lydia. But not Elizabeth. Her spiritedness was of a different nature. One was a lack of control, but the other was joie de vivre.

“Yes, that sounds about right,” Mr. Bingley said.

“But Miss Bennet would never follow such instructions. I’m sure I know her well enough to be certain of that.

And she doesn’t flirt or do anything to make herself noticeable, more evidence that she is incapable of artifice and not acting under any influence.

But my sisters are determined to think the worst of her. ”

“I do not think Mrs. Hurst so determined.” She never said much, and Mr. Darcy had noticed that even her nods had become half-hearted.

“Perhaps not. She never had Caroline’s forcefulness. But she clearly doesn’t approve. Is it wrong of me to think of marrying someone of whom my sisters will be ashamed?”

“Not when they don’t have sufficient cause for disapproving. Instead of finding fault, they could choose to disregard the things which do not concern you.”

“That’s not likely to happen. I do not like us to be at odds, but if I marry Miss Bennet, that can only divide us further.”

“Are you thinking of giving up your intentions? Division within a family is a sad thing indeed, but so is sacrificing oneself to please others.”

“I do not feel that I could give up Miss Bennet. I would like to have my sisters’ approval, but my plans do not depend upon it.”

“I am glad to hear that. I think that if you have a flaw, it is a tendency to put the wishes of others ahead of your own. There are times when that is the right thing to do, and times when you should put yourself first. This is one of those times. And you never know; your sisters may come to like Miss Bennet once you are married. Perhaps even love her. They can be very amiable, and her good nature should help to make everything easy between them.”

“That is a happy thought. I wish I could have confidence in it.”

They rode on in silence for a few minutes, but then they rounded a bend, and Mr. Bingley cried, “What a charming sight!”

It was indeed. Coming down the lane toward them were Jane, Elizabeth, and Charlotte, who were swinging Mr. Madison’s daughters into the air. Their faces were full of joy, the air rang with peals of merry laughter.

At the centre was Elizabeth, who held a hand of each girl and looked as though she could be their mother.

In that scene, Mr. Darcy could see his future.

A lively wife, a happy family, and every day bringing fresh delight.

It was these things which made the best life, not fortune or consequence or accomplishments.

Behind this group, Mr. Madison was smiling at the antics of his offspring; Miss Partridge, who had never managed a whole sentence in Mr. Darcy’s presence, appeared to be speaking fluently to Mr. Charlton; and her brother and Mr. Lucas were laughing, perhaps over one of the jokes which Mr. Partridge liked to make.

He was rather exuberant for Mr. Darcy’s taste, but not disagreeable.

More new friends perhaps? Mr. Darcy had not had much conversation with these two gentlemen, but he had no objection to knowing them better. He was feeling like Mr. Bingley, eager to know and approve of everyone.

Looking up at that moment, Mr. Madison called out, “Good to see you. Splendid morning, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed,” Mr. Darcy agreed, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. Mr. Bingley could have taken any one of a great many houses that his agent had recommended. How fortunate it was that his search for a home had ended here. And Mr. Darcy’s search for his ideal partner in life.