“Would it aid you if I loaned the money for the play?” Miss Bingley said, seeming to have come to the same conclusion that Mr. Darcy did, that the young woman would (correctly) expect them to be playing too high for her.
“No, no. I’d not feel right upon that matter—I have pocket money enough if you insist that I play,” she replied, that sort of confusion. “Is that what I ought to do?”
“We shall play for pennies,” Miss Bingley said in a tone that she no doubt hoped would quell any complaints from her brother-in-law.
“For pennies!” exclaimed Mr. Hurst, “What is the purpose ofthat?”
“To while away the time at cards,” Miss Bingley said sweetly. “Not all of us are as happy to lose money in play as you are.”
“I am ahead ten guineas tonight,” he replied. “You are the one who loses the most frequently.”
There was a widening of Elizabeth’s eyes at the sum quoted, and which confirmed to Darcy that they were in fact playing far too high for her.
“ThenIdo not wish to lose anymore,” Miss Bingley replied with annoyance.
“You really must not. I beg you, do not change the pot formysake,” Elizabeth said. “I would happily look at the books instead.”
“It is already decided,” Bingley said cheerily. “And to your benefit, for I am certain that there is nothing in my meager library which would interest such a great reader as I understand you to be. Please, do sit down, Miss Elizabeth.”
Such an order could not be ignored. The previous pot and cards were cleared, to Mr. Hurst’s benefit. That gentleman grunted his intention to lie down for a nap, and he ventured unto the sofa to put this noble intention into practice.
Darcy had half expected that anxiety in Elizabeth’s eyes to continue, but instead she shook herself, and it seemed as though a different spirit came to rule her mind. She smiled, “Preferring a sofa and nap to cards? Singular.”
It was with difficulty that Darcy choked back a laugh at how similar Elizabeth’s tone of voice was to Mr. Hurst’s.
The way that Elizabeth glanced at him after telling the joke, to see how he’d reacted, made a flutter in his guts.
Mrs. Hurst failed to hold back her own laugh, and that brought both Bingley and his other sister to laughter.
With a shout from the sofa Mr. Hurst ordered them to be quiet and focus upon the play.
They played together, all grinning for a few minutes.
Darcy asked, “Can you do other impressions?”
“Oh, yes.” Elizabeth grinned. “Mr. Bennet taught me the trick to make it sound just right.”
“Then imitate me,” Mr. Bingley asked.
Elizabeth paused for a moment. A thoughtful frown. She then burst out, “’Pon my word! I’ve never met so many friendly people in one place. Only I dare say, it is a deuced shame that the dance ends not long after midnight.”
General laughter ensued.
“Can you do me?” Miss Bingley asked.
“Perhaps, but I warn you that in general my impressions are perceived as much truer with male voices. It is easier to—let me see. ‘My dear Jane, I am grieved for you. I hate it so dreadfully when I am sick, myself. Yes, yes. Being sick is a quite dreadful thing. I never do it if I can avoid it. You must recover fast.’”
Miss Bingley smiled. “Oh my, I do not sound like that.”
“You do, my dear,” both her siblings insisted.
“Oh.” She laughed a little. “And now Mr. Darcy.”
“That is a difficult task. But let me see.” Elizabeth paused looking at him. Then with a sparkling smile crossing her face, she said, “I must apologize for making reference to an incident for which you have already apologized, but my muse guides—Ahem, Bingley, those two girls are tolerable enough, but not handsome enough to temptme.”
Bingley grinned with a boyish expression of delight. “You both heard that!”
“I hope that Miss Lydia has forgiven me,” Darcy said. “She appeared most upset.”
