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Mrs. Bennet closed the history book with satisfaction. Admittedly, most of it had been as good as Greek to her, but she had actually understood a bit. And a bit more after Mr. Bennet had explained a few things.

She was not so very stupid after all. Of course, real scholarship would always be beyond her, but she wasn’t aspiring to those dizzying heights. Just a little learning.

She was looking forward to reading more tomorrow. Another twenty minutes would do nicely. The getting of knowledge was rather an effort. Definitely something to be pursued in small amounts.

Setting aside the history book, she picked up the bird one, with which she was becoming quite familiar. In her efforts to identify the birds in the garden and her conversations with Mr. Darcy, she had been learning without even knowing it! They were wondrous creatures indeed.

Would there be any more of those conversations?

Or had Mr. Darcy heard of her stupidity and decided that associating with her was beneath him.

What if she had provided Mr. Bingley’s sisters with sufficient evidence to persuade him that she was not worthy of being his mother-in-law.

Was Jane’s happiness to be destroyed by her own mother?

With that worry on her mind, Mrs. Bennet welcomed the distraction of a visit from Mr. Madison and Mr. Charlton, who brought, respectively, a couple of books and the news that Mrs. Ford in the village had been safely delivered of a baby girl.

“Mary had better hurry up and finish the nightgown she has been stitching,” she said.

“Miss Mary has been making clothes for the baby, has she?” Mr. Charlton said. “How very good of her.”

“Just a few things,” Mrs. Bennet replied, feeling that a lady desirous of improving herself should value modesty.

“But I believe Miss Partridge has made a great many.” She suddenly recalled having gossiped about Susan’s obvious interest in this young man.

Here was an opportunity to make amends. “She is such a generous person. Always helping others.”

“Yes, I have noticed that. Last week she took the trouble to run after me because one of the villagers wanted to speak with me. She was quite out of breath, but had not a thought for herself.”

On hearing this Mrs. Bennet felt even worse for having gossiped. “That is just like her. Always putting the needs of others first. She hardly spends any of her allowance on herself. Helping the villagers is more important to her than having new dresses.”

Mr. Charlton looked puzzled. “I thought she had recently spent all her allowance on new dresses. Her mother said something to that effect.”

“I believe Mrs. Partridge was the one who insisted upon that, but it wasn’t what Susan wanted. Didn’t you say that she had been planning to buy someone boots, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth, who had been talking to Mr. Madison, looked up. “What were you asking, Mama?”

“If Susan Partridge wanted to spend her allowance on boots instead of dresses.”

“Yes. For Bobby Turner.”

“Always thinking of others, just as I said,” Mrs. Bennet declared happily. “But I think Bobby Turner has new boots. I’m sure I saw him wearing some the other day.”

“Her brother took up a collection for them.”

“How good of him. I expect Susan was very grateful. She is always so appreciative of any favour.”

Mr. Charlton looked impressed, and Mrs. Bennet felt happy that she had been able to properly establish Susan’s character in his mind. Silly Mrs. Partridge. She could have done great harm by boasting of her daughter’s dresses.

And silly Mrs. Bennet for having herself thought new clothes were necessary.

She could have told Mr. Bennet to invest all the money instead.

Not that it had been wasted. Her daughters did look lovely in their new garments.

And they would not need so many bride clothes, so that would be a saving.

And Mr. Bennet had been particularly desirous of indulging them. Dear man!

But she shouldn’t be thinking of bride clothes.

Mrs. Bennet chided herself. She must stick to her resolution of keeping out of her daughter’s affairs.

But even if Mary and Elizabeth, and perhaps Kitty as well, did not wish to be married, it was still pleasing to see them looking so pretty.

And if any nice young man did happen to come along…

The sound of the door knocker woke Mrs. Bennet from a daydream of five weddings.

But before she could chide herself again, she had the great pleasure of seeing Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley.

And there was nothing awkward in their manners or conversation.

If they knew how stupid she’d been, which Mrs. Bennet thought likely, then they had chosen to forgive her.

As they commonly did, the young people went out for a walk, and in keeping with their earlier discussion, Mary decided to go with them.

Mrs. Bennet was pleased by this consequence of her efforts.

But only because the activity would be good for her daughter.

Not for any other reason, she firmly told herself.

After the walking party left, Mrs. Bennet’s thoughts turned to the inevitability of facing Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst at the party to which they had been invited that evening.

That prospect filled her with trepidation.

By the time they had to dress to go out, she was feeling quite sick in anticipation of more unpleasantness.

She could have happily crawled into bed and sent the excuse of illness.

But then Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would know that she was afraid. And they would gloat over having gotten the better of her. She was not going to let them have that satisfaction.

Hoping that another satisfaction could also be denied them, Mrs. Bennet firmly informed Lydia, on the way to their engagement that evening, that she must behave properly throughout the evening and try to be a credit to her family. “And there will be consequences if you don’t.”

“But what do you mean by proper behaviour?” Lydia queried.

Mrs. Bennet wasn’t certain herself, but she knew who did comprehend these things. “Don’t do anything which Jane, Lizzy, and Mary would not do,” she replied.

“But they only stand around being boring.”

Mrs. Bennet frowned. “Perhaps it would be better if you don’t come out with us this evening. We could turn the carriage around, couldn’t we, Mr. Bennet?”

“But there is going to be dancing! Susan Partridge has offered to play, and Mrs. Finch said she would move the furniture to make room.”

“In her poky little parlour? There won’t be room for more than three couples. I’m sure the absence of one lady will be welcomed by others.”

“I suppose I could try to be proper and boring.”

“Then we shall see how it goes,” Mrs. Bennet said. “I would rather not put our coachman to any trouble.” Being considerate of servants was something Mr. Darcy thought important. She had heard him say so to Elizabeth. “But remember, no flirting. And no foolishness. And keep your voice down.”

And for herself, no vulgarity and no stupidity. Indeed, she intended not to say much at all. Observation was to be her purpose this evening. That and avoiding Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.

However, the first thing she observed was not an example of elegant manners or speech, but those ladies seizing upon Jane and carrying her off with her arms linked so firmly into theirs that escape was impossible.

A week ago this sight would have filled Mrs. Bennet’s heart with joy. But now she feared that they could only be up to no good. What poison were they intending to pour into her daughter’s ears? What wicked deeds might they be planning?

Feeling a great desire to protect her chick, Mrs. Bennet considered following them.

But there wasn’t much she could do by way of assistance.

Jane was far more capable of handling them, and creeping behind Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would only draw attention to herself.

Besides, that was what Lizzy was doing, but in a much more natural manner than her inept mother could have managed.

And she would be better at helping her sister if needed.

So Mrs. Bennet withdrew to a chair, but still kept an eye on the situation, as much as was possible through gaps in the crowd.

It gave her some relief to see no worse expression on her daughter’s face than puzzlement.

However, she did not like that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were still dominating Jane’s company after half an hour had gone by.

It was looking as though their plan might be to keep her apart from Mr. Bingley.

But eventually they released her. Or else he came to claim Jane.

With her view obscured at that moment, Mrs. Bennet wasn’t certain which, but she was satisfied with the end result, however it had come about.

A few minutes later, however, she was again astonished, this time by seeing that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were talking to Elizabeth.

Their conversation was much shorter, but it was followed by one with Mary.

Something was definitely up. And nothing good.

Even more convinced of this, Mrs. Bennet hoped that her two most forthright daughters had put those ladies in their place.

She felt some alarm when they afterwards approached Kitty.

Might she inadvertently give them an opportunity to look down upon her?

Mrs. Bennet almost rose from her seat, but then she decided that Kitty could better rely on the assistance of her companions, Susan and Edward Partridge, Mr. Charlton, and John Lucas.

Indeed, John was saying something at that moment, and it was probably something very sensible.

He had grown into such a reliable young man.

Mrs. Bennet relaxed, but she almost leapt out of her chair upon noticing that the enemy was bearing down upon Lydia. What dreadful things might she say? Miss Bingley was certain to encourage her to make a fool of herself. Intervention was necessary.

But Mrs. Long, who had been recounting some story, to which Mrs. Bennet had not been listening, insisted, upon seeing her struggling to get up, that she must not go now without hearing the funniest part.

Her excuses were denied, and she was pulled back into her chair.

Agonizing over what Lydia was saying, and how Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst might be gloating, she didn’t hear the funniest part either.

But at least their conversation with Lydia was also short. Since she had no more daughters for them to impose upon, Mrs. Bennet relaxed and began to doze off. She was startled into consciousness by the sudden realization that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were addressing her.

Sent into a panic by this unexpected assault, she stammered a response to their greeting, and then struggled to find her tongue. It was fortunate that they didn’t want to talk to her for half an hour as well because she could hardly manage to minutes.

It was some time before Mrs. Bennet recovered from the effects of this incursion.

And even then, she was too distracted to make much headway with her plan of observing and emulating the best behaviour.

But it was, after all, a very grand scheme, which might be best achieved in small increments, rather like her attempt at learning.

Besides, the greater priority was observing Lydia. Realizing that she had been neglecting this duty, Mrs. Bennet took a turn about the room and not a moment too soon. Lydia was laughing excessively loudly, but a few words of warning were sufficient to quiet her down.

On the way home, feeling that it was better to know than to be wondering, Mrs. Bennet asked her what she had been discussing with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. The answer was not reassuring.

“Officers,” Lydia replied with a laugh. “Miss Bingley takes a great interest in them. She wanted me to tell her how they like to pass the time when we visit them in Meryton.”

Mrs. Bennet’s heart sank.

“I was going to say how they like to joke and play pranks on each other, and how Mr. Pratt did the funniest thing yesterday, but then I remembered that I am supposed to be dull and sensible, so I said that their favourite thing is going to the lending library to change their books. Then I asked Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst what books they like to read. But it doesn’t seem that they like to read at all because they didn’t reply.

So I told them I was reading an interesting book about the Romans this morning.

Don’t think that means I like reading because I don’t, but it’s funny that they think I do.

Especially since they were suddenly in a hurry to go talk to someone else.

If they ever try to talk to me again, I shall mention books to make them go away. Isn’t that clever of me?”

Mrs. Bennet rather thought it was.

***

“What a dreadful evening,” Miss Bingley said. “It was a trial having to be friendly to them.”

“I didn’t find it so bad. Miss Bennet really is an agreeable girl, and Miss Mary was remarkably civil this evening.”

“She was glaring at me, and I don’t find Miss Bennet agreeable. And Miss Lizzy was impertinent as usual.”

“I thought she was amusing. And Miss Kitty has much better manners than we first thought. Even Miss Lydia was surprisingly well mannered.”

“Suspiciously so,” Miss Bingley said. “I am wondering if Mrs. Bennet could have actually started managing the girl because of what I said, which is annoying. I don’t want to be doing her any favours.

But I do not believe that Miss Lydia reads books.

I would have challenged her on that if I could remember anything about the Romans. ”

“I can’t remember them at all. Who were they?”

“They lived in Rome, Louisa. In Italy.”

“Oh, of course, I suppose they would have done.”

“Anyway it was very annoying. I was wanting her to make a fool of herself, Even if I can’t point it out to Charles, he might finally notice for himself. And it was such an effort having to think of something pleasant to say to Mrs. Bennet.”

“That was your idea of being pleasant? Saying that it looks like it’s going to rain.”

“I like rain. A nice downpour will keep Charles and Mr. Darcy from going to Longbourn.”

***

“Well, that was a welcome change,” Mr. Bingley said to Mr. Darcy. “It was nice not having to hear criticism of the Bennets all the way home. And such a relief that my sisters are finally giving them a chance.”

Mr. Darcy agreed. He had appreciated the peaceful ride home.

And he wanted to believe the best. That this appearance of a chance being given really was genuine.

That Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would cease looking for faults to tell their brother about.

That they could learn to view the Bennets as friends and come to love Jane as a sister.

But he was still dubious.