Mr. Bingley’s gaze sought Jane’s, and she returned it with a look of encouragement.
“Miss Bennet, may I have the honor of calling again tomorrow? Perhaps you and Miss Elizabeth might walk with me in this delightful garden. The scent of your roses is intoxicating.”
“I should like that very much, sir. You will especially enjoy the Damask roses, for they are very fragrant.”
“Then you must instruct me when I design my own rose garden at Netherfield.”
A delicate color rose in her cheeks. “It would afford me great pleasure, sir.”
He bowed again, and with renewed civility from the others, the party from Netherfield took their leave.
As the sisters accompanied their guests to the front of the house, Miss Bingley paused beside Elizabeth and surveyed her from head to foot.
“Miss Eliza, you are much altered since I saw you last.” She shook her head in commiseration and clucked her tongue. “Your countenance is drawn, and you are quite pale. You have lost yourbloom. Were Mr. Darcy to behold you now, he would scarcely know you, for I confess I hardly know you myself.”
She sniffed and turned away, extending her hand to be assisted into the carriage.
The moment they were alone, Jane clasped her arms about Elizabeth’s neck. “Oh, Lizzy, he is as handsome as ever I remembered him.” She caught her sister’s hands and twirled her about the garden path in unrestrained delight.
“I did not embellish his beauty in my imagination, and he is so exceedingly amiable. I have never known a gentleman of more pleasing temper.”
Elizabeth laughed. “My dear sister, I believe you are besotted by your Mr. Bingley.”
“Oh, Lizzy, I fear that I am.”
Elizabeth sobered. “Yet tell me, why did he not call upon us to take his leave? Why did he absent himself for so many weeks without any notice? We have not seen him, I believe, since the fourteenth of March, when we attended the theatre.”
Jane reflected. “You are correct. It has been two months. I cannot explain his silence, though he appears not to regard it as a desertion. Should matters progress between us, I shall inquire into it. For the present, I am content to receive his attentions as they are offered. Did you observe the manner in which he regarded me, Lizzy?”
“I did indeed. He is as captivated by you as you are by him. Yet his sister remains as cutting as ever. She declares that I am much altered and that she should scarcely have known me again, taking particular care to observe that my face is drawn. Have thetrials we have borne so plainly marked my countenance? Am I so altered?”
“I perceive no alteration in you. If our trials had imprinted themselves upon your countenance, they must surely have done the same to mine, yet Mr. Bingley remarked upon no such change.”
Her eyes rested thoughtfully upon her sister. “Lizzy, you have not lost your bloom. Indeed, I think you look better than ever, for your spirits are no longer oppressed by the perpetual anxieties that our mother imposed upon us. Come, we must dress for dinner. Miss Bingley may indulge whatever fancies she pleases, but they are without foundation.”
The following day, the sisters were seated in the drawing room, Jane with her embroidery hoop in hand and Elizabeth engaged in writing a letter to Lydia.
“I do not know whether our sister will ever comprehend that she is not the center of the world.”
Jane laughed. “What is her present grievance?”
“She declares it most unjust that she must rise at six in the morning to assist in the kitchens. For the next three months, her duty is to churn butter. She writes, ‘I had no notion how much labor Cook and Alice expend in the making of it. I must churn, wash it, set it in molds, and then clear all away besides. I must be certain that every trace of milk is removed, else it will spoil, and I must not handle it overmuch, for the warmth of my hands will injure it. Of all employments, I detest the churning of butter above every other.’”
Jane smiled. “Our sister has never known the labor of the laundry. That is an employment I should greatly dislike. Thesoap is caustic, and the work exceedingly heavy. She ought to be grateful for her present task. Lydia is acquiring the accomplishments of a prudent wife.”
“That she is,” Elizabeth replied. “I confess I take pleasure in receiving her letters, yet I do not relish writing in return, for I must guard against exciting her envy. Our mode of life is remarkably easy in comparison with what Lydia is required to undertake.”
“I encounter the same difficulty,” Jane said. “It is not simple to strike the proper tone.”
Just then, a knock sounded at the door. The sisters exchanged a look of expectation and rose as Mr. Bingley entered behind Hill and was announced.
He bowed, and the sisters curtsied.
“Miss Bennet, will you oblige me by showing me your prize roses?”
Jane smiled. “It would afford me great pleasure, sir.”
She turned to Elizabeth. “Will you join us, Lizzy?”
