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Some time later, Miss Bingley reappeared, accompanied by her sister. Whatever Elizabeth had thought of them before, she could not help but be touched by their genuine concern for Jane.

The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it; advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice was followed exactly, for Jane’s fever increased and her head ached acutely. Conversation being too much, Elizabeth attended her quietly for much of the day.

When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and very unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern in parting with her, that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer of the chaise to an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay and bring back a supply of clothes.

∞∞∞

If Elizabeth might have done so without giving offence, she might have ignored the summons for dinner and instead taken a tray with Jane. Yet, she was certain that it was not possible and therefore did as she ought.

“And how is Miss Bennet?” asked Mrs. Hurst very civilly upon Elizabeth’s entrance.

“She is resting now,” Elizabeth answered. “She has not improved, but the remedies Mr. Jones brought at least have brought her a little relief.”

“The poor dear,” said Miss Bingley, “how I hate having a cold.”

“Indeed,” said Mrs. Hurst, “having to be abed all day with a sore head. It is most vexing.”

“You must let us know if there is anything we might do for her comfort, Miss Eliza,” said Miss Bingley.

“I thank you for your solicitude, Miss Bingley. I certainly shall.”

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst quickly put Miss Bennet out of their thoughts, beginning to talk about a bonnet that Miss Bingley wished to have made over. As Elizabeth was seated between Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hurst, she had the great good fortune of hearing all of Mr. Bingley’s many offers of assistance to Miss Bennet, for anything within his means of providing, he assured her, was at their disposal. He supposed that if Miss Bennet did not recover very soon, they might even send to London for their physician.

To this, Mr. Darcy replied, “I am afraid, Bingley, that Mr. Crowther is currently in Kent, for I have heard of it from my aunt. If you wish it, I might write to Mr. Loveridge and see if he might be willing to come.”

“I am sure that such measures will prove to be unnecessary, gentlemen,” replied Elizabeth. “Although I greatly appreciate your kindness. I have great faith in Mr. Jones and his remedies.”

“My dear Miss Eliza, surely you cannot suppose that Mr. Jones’s treatment would be superior to that of a London doctor, especially one recommended by a man such as Mr. Darcy?” asked Miss Bingley.

Elizabeth felt a flush of irritation but was quite certain she remained composed enough to not let it show. “Indeed, Miss Bingley, while I respect the expertise of London physicians, I also trust the judgement of Mr. Jones, who has known Jane all her life and is therefore better acquainted with her constitution.”

“Of course, Miss Eliza, I meant no offence. I only wish for your sister’s rapid recovery,” Miss Bingley said through thinned lips.

“I have often thought, when at Pemberley, that my sister and I recover more quickly when under the care of Mr. Miller, the local physician. He has known many generations of my family, and I would trust his judgement over the best London doctor. There is much to be said for knowing the individual.” Mr. Darcy made this statement to Elizabeth, but greatly enjoyed watching the many expressions that crossed Miss Bingley’s face as she heard it and considered how to respond.

“Of course,” Miss Bingley cooed, “you must have a very fine physician in Lambton. Pemberley must be the exception in such things.”

Elizabeth struggled to suppress her mirth at Miss Bingley’s obvious fawning. Mr. Darcy saw her amusement, and for an instant, their eyes met in shared understanding. She was grateful that conversation soon turned to matters of local importance, lest she become unable to hold her tongue. Elizabeth found she could offer helpful insights regarding Mr. Bingley’s tenants, clearing up a misunderstanding that had baffled Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy for days. Mr. Hurst seemed to care little about such matters, focusing primarily on his plate. The other ladies, it seemed, found Mr. Darcy’s reasoning on the matter quite unassailable, particularly when his conclusions differed from Elizabeth’s.

After dinner, Elizabeth, Miss Bingley, and Mrs. Hurst returned to Jane’s chamber, where they found the invalid awake and partaking in a thin potage. Every correct expression of pity flowed from Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. They remained with her until summoned to coffee, but as Jane was very poorly, Elizabeth could not leave her. She remained with her sister until late in the evening, when she had the relief of seeing her sleep. Only then, more out of obligation than desire, did she return downstairs.

In the corridor, she stopped to speak with a passing housemaid. “Should Miss Bennet awaken, please be so good as to send for me at once. I will be in the drawing-room.”

The maid agreed and left with a curtsey to convey the message. As Elizabeth turned to continue towards the drawing room, she heard voices, for the door was not entirely shut. Miss Bingley’s voice stood out as the loudest of them all.

“... never did see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin and her complexion lacks brilliancy. Her features are undistinguished. Her teeth are well enough, I suppose, but her eyes, which you consider so fine, I have never cared for. There is something sharp and shrewish about them that I do not like at all.”

Elizabeth’s stomach turned. She had thought, foolishly, that Miss Bingley’s regard for Jane, though affected, was built upon some foundation of respect. To hear her speak so... but of whom could she be speaking? It was surely not Jane, whose beauty and kindness were remarked upon by all.

“That is too harsh, Miss Bingley,” came Mr. Darcy’s voice. “You care not at all for her, I know, but what has she done to injure you that she deserves such insults?”

“I am only sharing what I have observed, Mr. Darcy. I hold no animosity towards Miss Eliza. I simply cannot see how you can justify describing her as pretty.”

Elizabeth froze. A flush rose to her face; her mind whirled. It was she of whom they spoke. She had always suspected Miss Bingley’s dislike—that was not the matter. She disliked Miss Bingley in turn. But to be dissected so, to have her very person judged so harshly...

“I do not expect you to agree, but as you wished for my opinion, I gave it,” said Mr. Darcy. “I do not agree with you that Miss Bennet is the only one with any beauty. All of the sisters, although the younger two need a great deal of guidance and time to mature, are handsome enough.”

Miss Bingley scoffed. “You, sir, need to spend more time in London. You have been too long in Kent and Hertfordshire.”