Best Served Cold
Bingley really was a feckless weasel with leaving his sister to write to Jane after he bailed on her at Netherfield. Even if he let Darcy convince him to leave, would it have killed him to take his leave like a man, or write to her father, or somehow do something to mitigate his lack of fortitude and consideration?
What happens if someone decides to get a bit of sweet-sweet revenge. Would she even care if someone else was in the firing line?
The Encounter
Poor Jane! I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she may not get over it immediately. It had better have happened to you, Lizzy; you would have laughed yourself out of it sooner. But do you think she would be prevailed upon to go back with us? Change of scene might be of service–and perhaps a little relief from home may be as useful as anything."
Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, and felt persuaded of her sister’s ready acquiescence.
"I hope," added Mrs Gardiner, "that no consideration with regard to this young man will influence her. We live in so different a part of town, all our connections are so different, and, as you well know, we go out so little, that it is very improbable that they should meet at all, unless he really comes to see her."
"And that is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his friend, and Mr Darcy would no more suffer him to call on Jane in such a part of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr Darcy may perhaps have heard of such a place as Gracechurch Street, but he would hardly think a month’s ablution enough to cleanse him from its impurities, were he once to enter it; and depend upon it, Mr Bingley never stirs without him."
P&P Chapter 25
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“Betty, what a pleasure to chance upon you! How is your mother? Your brother? What brings you to London?”
Jane Bennet was genuinely happy to meet someone in Hyde Park whom she knew and liked, aside from her aunt and uncle of course.
Thus far, it had been a dismal winter. She had tried calling on the Bingley sisters, who had made professions of friendshipnearly as strong as their brother’s in Hertfordshire, but then cut the acquaintance in the cruellest way possible. They pretended to have an appointment when she called, though they plainly did not, and took no pleasure in her company. When they at last deigned to return the call,weekslater, they did so with an attitude that made her think they expected pigs rooting around in her aunt’s parlour. Quitewhythey supposed the daughters of a tradesman were somehow above the daughter of a gentleman and her highly successful uncle was a mystery, but so it was.
Betty was the daughter of a Lucas Lodge tenant. She was between Elizabeth and Mary in age, and they had played together as children. She had been a servant at Netherfield while Jane was ill, but they had spoken only once or twice. It was some time since Jane had any news from a friendly source, so she chattered on worse than Lydia.
Betty laughed, the same as they had as children. They all had known as they grew into adolescence that they would forever be somewhat separated by their stations in life; but the eldest Bennet daughter had always been kind, and she was one of the few children of the gentry who treated Betty and her family the same at twenty as she had at ten. Since it was the same as she treated everybody, Betty was not astonished.
“Not so fast Jane… well—”
Jane laughed. “Pray, tell me you do not feel obliged to call me Miss Bennet when we are alone in the park? Jane was always good enough before.”
Betty nodded, still not entirely certain it was proper. “Mama removed to her brother’s place after Papa died and is content enough. Justin carts coal to the gentry in Mayfair and is satisfied with the work.”
“And you?” Jane asked, fearing she knew the answer.
“I be in service to Mrs Mason, a widow of some sixty year. You mayn’t know, but Miss Bingley turned out all the localservants without pay or reference. She didna even pay us for the six weeks we worked, let alone the whole quarter.”
Jane gasped in impotent fury, wondering how she had missed that titbit of gossip (in Mrs Bennet’s parlour no less).
“I am deeply sorry, Betty! I had no idea, and I am sorry for it.”
“Why? You didna cheat us.”
“Yes, but had I known of it, I might have helped you.”
“We applied to the magistrate for relief, but he just drove us away. Daniel and Justin say he like as set his dogs on ‘em.”
Jane had no trouble believing that, as the local magistrate was fond of his status and his drink, and could never be prevailed on to help anyone not of the gentry.
“Did you apply to my father or Sir William?”
“Why? Far as we could tell, the Bennets and Lucases was hand in glove with the Bingleys, and—”
The way she checked herself mid-sentence convinced Jane of what she was afraid to say.
“—and let us face facts,” Jane finished with a tinge of bitterness. “Neither gentleman will trouble themselves for much of anything—let alone another house’s servants, and not even a local at that.”
