I was very glad when the evening came to an end. Mama would not leave, however, but managed by some ruse to keep us there for a quarter of an hour after everyone else had gone, so that I saw how heartily we were wished away by most of the party. Not Mr Bingley, however, for I believe he would never send Jane away of his own accord.
It was the one good thing to come out of the evening, for he sought Jane out at the start of the ball and devoted himself to her for the entire evening. I am sure he will propose to her before long, and how fortunate an outcome that will be. Jane happily settled, and married to a good and cheerful man—it is almost worth the mortifications of this evening to see that come to pass!
And now I must go to bed. I am cross and out of sorts, but I hope that things will look better in the morning.
Write to me soon,
Lizzy
Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
November 27
Most noble Friend,
I have endured many serious trials this week on account of the Netherfield ball, but you will no doubt be pleased to hear that the rigours of my intellectual pursuits have allowed me to bear the follies of my family with stoicism. Indeed, I used the occasion to impart some knowledge to my sisters. When Kitty and Lydia filled the house with their idle chatter about officers, remarking on the importance of a red coat, I told them that Hannibal had managed to cross the Alps without a red coat, and so, too, had his elephant. But my attempts to awaken them to the joys of sisterly scholarship fell short of my hopes, as Lydia took no notice of me but instead embarked on a long and not very interesting story about when Mr Denny pretended to be an elephant and chased her all around the room.
Jane has spent the week sighing over Mr Bingley, encouraged by Mama, and Elizabeth talks of no one but Mr Wickham, who, it seems, is a paragon of virtue. I likened him to a young Apollo, hoping to awaken in her bosom an interest in the ancient Greeks, but her brain, alas, is not suited to such erudition. Nor is my sister Lydia’s, for she ran around the room shouting, ‘à pollo, à pollo.’ She persisted in thinking that Apollo meant ‘like a chicken,’ flapping her arms and squawking in a noisy manner, even when I protested that Mr Wickham was nothing like the aforementioned bird.
The only sensible conversation has come from my cousin, Mr Collins. We were both of us in agreement over the necessity of attending the ball, despite my family’s expectations that we would find such an entertainment unworthy of our superior powers, but as I remarked to them at the time, I think it no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. Society has claims on us all. I was much taken with this phrase and I have written it into my book of extracts. As a maxim it is both elegant and true, for I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody.
Mr Collins agreed with me. He was able to set Elizabeth’s mind at rest when she feared that he might suffer a rebuke from the Archbishop or from Lady Catherine if he should venture to dance. In proof of his confidence, he asked her for the first two dances. It was very noble of him, for he could expect nothing by the way of a sensible conversation. My sister Elizabeth means well, but alas, dear Lucy, she is not a Learned Woman.
This was brought home to me when I was solicited to sing after supper. She looked at me in consternation, realising that if she had applied herself to her music as I had done, she could have been the centre of attention; and determining, no doubt, to apply herself to the pianoforte as soon as she returned home.
My performance was much enjoyed and I was gratified to think that I had brought some culture to the gathering, for Mr Bingley and his London friends expect it. Indeed, I saw Miss Bingley and her sister exchanging looks of frenzied delight, whilst Mr Darcy listened in stunned silence, amazed to have found such sophistication in the country. His frozen features showed his determination to catch every note of my performance, despite Miss Bingley’s attempts to distract him.
I was preparing to embark on a third song when Elizabeth caught my father’s eye and he drew me from the pianoforte, saying that I had delighted the company long enough. I was startled, for the assembled company was evidently enjoying the music, but his following words showed his real thoughts: ‘Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.’ And it is true that, whilst I sang, the other young ladies were squirming with embarrassment, knowing that they would have to follow my superior performance with one of their own. It would have been mortifying for them if I had continued any longer and shown their own efforts to be the effusions of mere amateurs.
Mr Collins was applied to, and made the most sensible speech of the evening, saying that he considered music an innocent diversion and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman, as long as he did not devote too much time to it and neglect his other duties, such as the writing of sermons. My mother nodded her approval and remarked to Lady Lucas that he was a very clever man. It is the first sensible remark I have ever heard my mother make. Perhaps there is hope for her yet.
Mr Shackleton surprised me by saying that he did not see anything so very clever about Mr Collins, only the sort of cleverness which comes with being in the pocket of a Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Mr Shackleton is of the opinion that true cleverness comes in enhancing the lives of one’s neighbours in a quieter way, by carrying out such necessary duties as those of a clerk. It is an interesting opinion, and one that is worthy of further consideration.
I hope your own studies are improving and that you are growing daily in virtue and understanding.
Your sister in all but family relations,
Mary
Miss Kitty Bennet to Miss Eleanor Sotherton
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
November 27
Dearest Ellie,
We have been to a ball and danced all night. I danced the first two with Mr Denny and the third with Colonel Forster, then the two fourth with Mr Collins—urrgh!—and the two fifth with Captain Carter. I went into supper with Mr Saltrum and then danced with Mr Shackleton and then Mr Dacres. Lydia danced the first two with Captain Carter and the third with Mr Collins—she was lucky and only had one dance with him, and she says it was the most tedious affair and he would keep stepping on her hem and turning all the wrong ways—then the two fourth with Mr Dacres and the two fifth with Mr King. She went into supper with Mr Denny and afterwards danced with Colonel Forster, when he was not dancing with Miss Graves, and then Mr Pratt. I do wish you were here—what fun we would have had! I hope there are lots of officers in Bath. Lydia is fagged. She says I must send you her love and tell you that she had new shoe roses, and says that she will write a note in the morning.
I do wish your papa would mend his fortunes and you would come back to Netherfield, but not before Mr Bingley has married Jane.
Love and kisses,
Kitty
Miss Charlotte Lucas to Miss Susan Sotherton
Lucas Lodge, Hertfordshire,
November 27
Dear Susan,
You are no doubt longing to hear all about the ball, and so here I am at my writing desk before breakfast. It was an interesting affair, and made a change in our daily routine. I was lucky and danced several dances, though Elizabeth was the focus of attention throughout the evening. I am not surprised. She was in looks, and attracted the admiration not only of her cousin but also of Mr Darcy. She did not see it, thinking that he asked her to dance only to mock her in some way, but that would have been out of character for him and I am surprised she did not realise it, she who is a great studier of character. He is proud and arrogant, yes, and I could well imagine him avoiding anyone he felt to be beneath him, but he does not have a propensity to mockery. I advised her to make herself agreeable to him, and cautioned her not to let her fancy for Mr Wickham make her appear unpleasant to Mr Darcy, who is a man of ten times Wickham’s consequence. But Elizabeth has no interest in a man’s consequence, and I believe she would rather marry a man she liked with a thousand a year than a man she did not particularly like with ten thousand a year. I cannot understand it. Happiness in marriage is very much a matter of chance, and those who start it in love very often fall out of love, whereas those who start it without love frequently end up the happier for it.
Jane was still the object of Mr Bingley’s affections, a fact my mama privately resented, not because she wishes Jane ill—though she would be happier if Mr Bingley had fallen in love with me—but because Mrs Bennet would talk of nothing else. She drove Mama almost to tears by enumerating the virtues of the match, crowing about Mr Bingley’s face, fortune, manner and address, and hoping that Mama might soon be equally fortunate in having a daughter wed.
She thought there was no chance of it, but I believe she might be mistaken, for Mr Collins has come to Meryton with the express wish of finding a wife. His first object was Jane, until he found she was likely to be soon engaged, and then Elizabeth became the object of his attentions. But Elizabeth has given him no encouragement—quite the reverse, in fact. She makes no secret of her irritation with him and last night she was grateful to me for drawing his attention to myself. She saw in it nothing but an act of kindness to herself. Such is the difference between twenty and twenty-seven!
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