“Mama, are you crying?” A soft voice roused Mrs. Bennet, and she suddenly realized Jane knelt in front of her and had reached to clasp her hand.

“Most certainly not, my dear. Good heavens, why would I have occasion to weep? Is this not every mother’s fondest wish … to be planning her daughter’s wedding? I have been doubly blessed with the duty of overseeing the production of not one but two trousseaux, which, of course, would be incomplete without: ‘Dresses for breakfasts, and dinners, and balls; Dresses to sit in, and stand in, and walk in; Dresses to dance in, and flirt in, and talk in; Dresses in which to do nothing at all; Dresses for Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall.’”[2]

“Speaking of all these purchases of attire, it is fortunate Papa’s own clothing has rather deep pockets,” said Lizzy.

A modiste in the city was already at work on the young ladies’ wedding clothes. When she had been needled for a completion date, the woman had hemmed and hawed before replying. “I am only doing sew-sew. I toile day and night, and eye-let my assistant, Velvet, do the crewel embroidery work. But the darn thread, together with the tight fit of the bodices, causes much seam-stress. I will not embellish the truth but must tack on a few extra days. So awl things considered, I have a notion you may pin your hopes on the garments being ready five days before the wedding.” The Bennet ladies had quickly cott-on to the dressmaker’s wordplay; and, without bias, they baste their trust on Mrs. Lovelace and Velvet.

Cato the Philoso-fur was quite comfortably curled up into a cozy little orange ball on Mrs. Bennet’s lap. Initially, the lady had flatly refused to allow the kitten admittance into the townhouse; nevertheless, she had been sweet-talked and cajoled, mostly by her handsome sons-in-law-to-be, into allowing the feline into her home. Almost immediately, the little cat had also worked its way into the woman’s heart; and the two had become inseparable, except when her three-year-old son was in the vicinity. On those occasions the cat became as nervous as, well, a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. It was not because Robert was cruel; in fact, the boy loved the purring pet so much, he showered it with hugs and kisses. Robert had been instructed to hold the kitten gently, but the reluctant and squirming Cato’s philosophy differed from what the tot had been taught regarding the difference between gentle and taut.

The day Cato had first been introduced into the household, Mr. Darcy had picked him up and taken a look beneath its tail to confirm the kitten was, indeed, a male. The next morning, Lizzy had happened upon Lydia and Robert kneeling on the floor, struggling to inspect the poor cat’s belly. When asked what they were about, Lydia answered, “Well, Mr. Darcy picked Cato up, looked underneath, and then told us it was a boy. It must be written here somewhere, though I cannot find it.” Lizzy opened her mouth to explain but was gratefully spared when she glimpsed her father about to enter his study. “Papa, would you please come here? The inquisitive minds of your youngest children need some direction. Please excuse me. I am in a hurry to foist upon myself yet another painful bout of writer’s cramp. Being betrothed to the cream of the crop of la crème de la crème has some drawbacks. All the same, there is no use crying over spilt milk, so I am off to answer more letters of congratulations.”

Mr. Bennet was finally reconciled to losing Lizzy and Jane, yet not to Cato’s status as a permanent fixture in his house. The critter had hissed at him upon first acquaintance, scratched his arm when he benevolently tried to pet its head, and bit the hand that fed it when he had tried, the previous night, to evict the little cat from its place on the bed next to his wife. Thanks to Lizzy’s talk of dairy, her father was able to evade the risk of further feline-inflicted affliction as well as the need to point out the pet’s private parts to his progeny. His suggestion Cato might care for a saucer of cream was met with enthusiasm, so Lydia and Robert scampered off to the kitchen while the liberated kitten scurried in the opposite direction. Quite proud of his resourcefulness, Mr. Bennet smiled smugly as he returned to his den. The self-satisfied smirk was quickly wiped from his face when he discovered Cato had taken shelter in the gentleman’s own private lair, and Thomas Bennet could have sworn the creature was grinning back at him, snug as a bug in a rug, from behind the desk in the comfort of his own favourite chair.

The prospect of a northern journey buoyed Caroline Bingley’s sinking spirits to a certain extent; nonetheless, she dragged her feet up the front steps to the Bennet townhouse. Having just eaten a generous portion of humble pie with the upper crust’s Georgiana Darcy, the young woman did not have much appetite left for eating crow in front of Eliza Bennet. Saying she was sorry was certainly not Caroline’s cup of tea, and she did not want to end up with egg on her face. But a promise had been made to Charles, and she was determined to dispense with the unpleasantness of another apology and depart for Staffordshire with a clear conscience instead of being left to stew in her own juices.

The sitting room discussion of buttons, bows, and beaux was interrupted when Sharp announced Miss Bingley had arrived to visit with Miss Elizabeth. The three women rolled their eyes, and Lizzy asked the footman to bring her guest to them. After greeting the visitor, Mrs. Bennet took her leave. Caroline admired Cato’s beautiful gingery-orange coat as it followed its mistress from the room. Refreshments were ordered and served along with polite chitter-chatter before Jane thought of a plausible reason to be excused in order to leave Lizzy and Miss Bingley alone.

Dressed in tangerine but green with envy, Caroline jealously eyed the swatches of fine fabric, lace, and satin ribbon. She washed away the bitter taste in her mouth with a sip of tea, attempted a bright smile, and said, “Miss Eliza-beth, please accept my best wishes. I understand you are engaged … to marry …” Her throat closed up, and the smile crumpled. She took another sip and managed to choke out, “ … Mr. Darcy. I regret I will not be available for the happy event, although I realize I would not have been invited anyway. I am departing Town soon for an extended stay in Staffordshire … at Tutbury to be exact. Charles and I have relatives there, and … ” Both Caroline and the tea ran out of steam, so she sat silently staring into her cup. 

Lizzy took pity and said, “Thank you, Miss Bingley. I hope you will have a most pleasant sojourn in the Midlands. Mr. Darcy and I will be heading even farther north after our marriage, as we are to settle at his family’s estate in Northumberland. If you are ever in that part of the country, you absolutely must visit us there.” Lizzy remembered her dream of a home on a cliff where Caroline would have been welcome to drop over, and she hid a smile behind her teacup.