Page 40

“This has been a day of surprises,” Mary said, looking into Jane and Elizabeth’s room. “Was that really Mr. Bingley’s sisters who were pretending to be our friends?”

“Come and sit down,” Elizabeth said, indicating the end of her bed. “Pretending is the operative word. I didn’t even realize until Mama mentioned it in the carriage that they had been talking to Lydia as well. I cannot believe that they have any genuine desire to know her better.

“Something strange is going on,” Mary said as she sat in the indicated place. “And I suspect that their odd behaviour is connected to Mama’s.”

“I am inclined to agree, but I prefer her sudden reformation over their false friendship. I do not trust them.”

“Nor do I. What did they have to say to you, Jane?”

“Nothing significant. Just ordinary chitchat.”

Elizabeth knew this, having intentionally eavesdropped on some of that conversation out of concern for her sister. She had been relieved not to hear anything unpleasant being said; however, she still suspected a nefarious purpose.

“There may have been an appearance of them having decided to accept you,” she said to Jane, “but I am inclined to be wary of their motives.”

To her satisfaction, Jane replied, “So am I. It seemed to me that their overtures of friendship were too good to be true. But I decided that it was only civil to accept them at face value. It occurred to me that Mr. Bingley might have said something to them.”

“You mean that he decided to put his foot down,” Mary said.

“I’m not sure such forcefulness is in his nature. But he might have nicely asked his sisters to be more friendly. And even if they obliged unwillingly, choosing to honour his request means something, doesn’t it?”

Elizabeth agreed that it did. A small something but better than outright hostility. However, she was hoping that instead of asking nicely, Mr. Bingley had lately acquired a degree of forcefulness. She very much liked the idea of his sisters being under his influence rather than him under theirs.

At their next evening party, she observed Mr. Bingley smiling happily as his sisters paid attention to Jane.

He was obviously very pleased with this new state of affairs.

But did he notice their eagerness to whisk Jane away from his company?

Or that Miss Bingley spent some time eyeing Lydia with disappointment as she failed to behave badly?

And stood behind Mrs. Bennet for several minutes with a hopeful expression before skulking away with a scowl.

In the following days, Miss Bingley continued to linger about them, presumably hoping to observe something discreditable.

As far as Elizabeth could tell, these efforts were not rewarded; however, there were some uncomfortable moments when the objects of surveillance slipped up a little.

And thank goodness Miss Bingley had already left on the occasion when Lydia ended an evening by flirting shockingly with several officers at once.

Although her behaviour was improving under new guidance, she was still prone to falling into her old ways at the drop of a hat.

The problem, Elizabeth decided, was a lack of personal motivation behind Lydia’s efforts to improve.

She only saw the necessity of placating her mother, not the value of good manners.

She could all too easily be led astray by temptation.

Nor had the daily twenty minutes of reading grown upon her. It remained a disagreeable task, done with one eye upon the clock. And the notion of rational pursuit was treated as a joke.

Mrs. Bennet, however, was throwing herself into that plan with astounding enthusiasm.

A little too much, Elizabeth sometimes thought.

Every time they went out, there was a risk of her attempting to join in discussions which went over her head.

It was fortunate that she did not contribute much to these conversations, but a few of her remarks had caused Elizabeth almost as much embarrassment as the coarse ones of the past.

And at home, Mrs. Bennet often took the liberty of quizzing their friends.

On one morning Elizabeth came into the parlour to hear her asking Mr. Madison about political economy and struggling to understand because she could only imagine that it was along the lines of household economy except in the halls of government.

Happily, he dealt with this inanity as politely as he had once rejected her romantic hints, but Elizabeth was glad that no one else was there to hear such foolishness.

There were also some inauspicious attempts at acquiring accomplishment.

Like the morning when Mrs. Bennet asked Mary to give her some instruction upon the pianoforte.

Thank goodness no visitors came to the house during that debacle.

And fortunately some horrendous sketches were relegated to the waste basket instead of being produced for friends to admire.

But Elizabeth was proud of her mother for trying to better herself, even though it seemed unlikely that any great heights of understanding or accomplishment could be achieved.

She was also pleased to see Kitty embracing the reading plan and engaging in discussions, which revealed that she had been acquiring an ability to express herself better.

Perhaps a consequence of the many conversations she had lately been having with Edward and John.

She seemed to be daily growing in maturity.

At the same time she and Lydia were growing further apart.

Although it was good to see Kitty diverging from Lydia’s influence, this also meant that Lydia was spending most of her time with Emily.

Being a little younger, even less experienced in the world, and equally or possibly even more obsessed with officers, she was not likely to be any good influence.

But even though Mrs. Bennet was giving Lydia so much better guidance, she still allowed the two young girls to go to Meryton together, often without Kitty, who preferred the company of Susan Partridge or Maria Lucas.

Both Kitty and Mrs. Bennet had begun to take an interest in newspapers as well.

Mr. Bennet frequently complained that he could no longer call his reading material his own, but in a jovial way, and Elizabeth saw him smiling happily when Mrs. Bennet asked Mr. Madison to explain about these Luddites who were so much in the news lately.

She also noticed that her father’s humour was becoming less sarcastic and his behaviour toward his wife more thoughtful.

Although they weren’t intellectual equals, and she wasn’t convinced that they even loved each other, there was lately such agreement and goodwill between her parents that she could no longer consider their marriage an unhappy one.

Another source of satisfaction was seeing Mr. Bennet at last taking a part in correcting Lydia.

And this was making a difference. Although she wasn’t the most well-behaved young lady, the worst of her behaviour had been brought under control, and there was the prospect of a great deal more being achieved in the future.

All in all, Elizabeth was very well content with such improvement in her family situation.

If Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had been the catalyst for that change, she could almost be grateful to them.

But a newfound loyalty to her mother made that sentiment impossible.

Besides, she was certain that Mr. Bingley’s sisters would still separate him from Jane if they could, no matter what agreements their brother might have exacted from them.

***

It had not escaped Mr. Darcy that Mrs. Bennet was making an effort to improve herself.

She had lately begun speaking slowly as though choosing her words carefully, and she often paused for thought, with her brows knitted in concentration.

It was a haphazard effort, which sometimes produced a very sensible remark, and sometimes deteriorated into confusion.

When she started using words which were new to her vocabulary, he comprehended how she had discovered them—by listening to himself and his friends.

But he didn’t mind being used in this way, or answering the many questions which she suddenly had, even though some of them were rather muddled.

If she was wanting to develop a better understanding, then good for her.

Along with this there was an ongoing improvement in her manners, which Mr. Darcy noted with approval.

He was particularly pleased that she had also begun taking some steps to correct Lydia, who was a little quieter and less flamboyant.

And if her voice grew too loud or her behaviour excessively bold, Mrs. Bennet often stepped in.

The first time he observed this, Mr. Darcy cringed at hearing her speak too loudly herself, but perhaps she perceived that this drew unwanted attention, for the next time she was more subtle.

It was not as though Mrs. Bennet had become sensible overnight, and she certainly had her share of slipups and addled moments.

But there were also successes. Like on the evening when Mr. Bingley had announced that he was planning to hold a ball.

Mrs. Bennet had not been among those matrons declaring excessive enthusiasm for that event and hinting that he should open the ball with one of their daughters.

Her simple and politely appreciative response had been exactly what it should be.

And when Miss Bingley had declared that balls would be more agreeable if rational conversation rather than dancing was the order of the day, Mr. Darcy had been delighted by Mrs. Bennet’s response: “I daresay that would make for an agreeable evening, but it wouldn’t be a ball, would it?”

This comment had met with much laughter and fervent agreement, and if she had enjoyed a moment of triumph, it was well deserved.

Naturally Miss Bingley had been affronted.

And Mr. Darcy had perceived that she was still pleased by the slipups which inevitably happened.

That part of her character wasn’t likely to change even if she had decided to accept her brother’s choice of wife.

But over time, Mrs. Bennet should provide less cause for gloating.

She might even come to comprehend the complexities of political economy.

And Mr. Darcy had great hope that she could become ladylike enough that he would not even hesitate to introduce her to his staid relatives.