Mr. Darcy's Diary

‘What do you think of my bonnet, Lizzy?’ asked Lydia, coming forward. ‘Is it not delightful? I got it yesterday.’

‘I thought you needed to economize,’ said Elizabeth.

‘I did,’ said Lydia. ‘There were three bonnets I liked in the shop, and I bought only the one.’

‘From all I have read, the practising of economy does not come naturally to females,’ said Mary. ‘They must study it diligently if they are not to let their expenditure exceed their income.’

‘Well said, Mary. Very well put,’ said Mrs Bennet. She turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam. ‘Such an accomplished girl. She reads I do not know how many books. She will make some lucky soldier an excellent wife.’

For the first time in my life, I saw my cousin nonplussed. He was not required to reply, however, for whilst Lydia went over to the mirror and began to admire herself, Mrs Bennet resumed her conversation.

‘When you drove away from us after your visit to Longbourn, Lady Catherine, I had no more idea of our being related than I had of the cat going to see the queen, but now we are family.’

‘Indeed we are not,’ said my aunt indignantly.

‘But yes! Your nephew is married to my daughter. That makes us cousins of a sort. My cousin, Lady Catherine!

How envious Lady Lucas was when I told her, for she is not a real lady of course, she was only made a lady when Sir William was given a knighthood, on account of an address he made to the king. She was plain Mrs Lucas before that, and her husband was in trade in Meryton. He gave it up when he was made Sir William, but birth shows.’

‘It does indeed,’ remarked Lady Catherine pointedly.

‘And this is the girl who ran off with the steward’s son?’ she demanded, turning to Kitty.

‘No, I am not,’ said Kitty, blushing.

‘This is my second youngest, Kitty,’ said Mrs Bennet.

‘Such a good girl! Such manners! And in the way to becoming a beauty. She will turn heads before she is much older, mark my words. Not that she has not already done so. Captain Denny was very taken with her, and there were one or two other officers who singled Kitty out, though she is so young, but –’

‘It cannot be you,’ said Lady Catherine, cutting across Mrs Bennet and turning to Lydia. ‘You are a child.’

Lydia did not turn round but, having removed her bonnet, fluffed her curls in front of the mirror.

‘La! What nonsense you do speak!’ she declared. ‘I have been married these four months. My dear Wickham and I were married in September. I am quite the matron.’

She turned round and faced Lady Catherine. ‘I am so pleased to meet you,’ she said, extending her hand as though she was a duchess and my aunt a farmer’s wife.

‘My dear Wickham’s told me all about you.’

‘Has he indeed,’ said Lady Catherine awfully, ignoring her hand.

Lydia dropped it, unabashed, and turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam, going towards him with hand outstretched.

‘La! An officer. It does my heart good to see a red coat. It reminds me of my dear Wickham.’

‘I always liked a man in a red coat,’ said Mrs Bennet to Lady Catherine. ‘Lydia takes after me.’

‘Unfortunately for those of us who like rational conversation,’ said Mr Bennet. ‘Darcy, do you have a billiard room here?’

‘I do, sir. Allow me to show it to you. Gentlemen?’

And so saying, I rescued them from the ladies.

‘My wife is a constant source of amusement to me,’ said Mr Bennet as we left the room, ‘and Lydia even more so. I had great hopes of Mary, but she has become less silly now that she goes out more, and doesn’t suffer in comparison with her sisters, though her outburst today gives me hope that her silliness has not entirely disappeared. Kitty, too, looks set to disappoint me. She has become so rational a creature now that she spends two days out of every three at Netherfield that I fear she will grow up to be a sensible young lady after all.’

I am still not easy with Mr Bennet’s way of speaking of his daughters, but as his levity helped to shape Elizabeth’s playful character, I suppose I cannot complain.

Tuesday 16th December

Elizabeth took her aunt through the grounds in the phaeton and pair today as promised, and the two of them returned with bright eyes and a healthy glow on their cheeks.

‘And do you like Pemberley as much as the last time you visited?’ I asked her.

‘Far better,’ she replied. ‘Then, it was simply a fine house. Now it is Elizabeth’s home.’

‘It must be an enjoyable way of seeing the grounds,’ said Anne.

There was a trace of wistfulness in her voice. Elizabeth heard it, and said, ‘You must take a drive with me this afternoon.’

I blessed her for it. Anne has little pleasure in her life, I believe.

They set out after lunch, and though their trip was shorter than the previous one, they returned in lively mood.

‘I think I have misjudged Anne,’ said Elizabeth later. ‘I, who used to pride myself on my ability to judge people on first impressions, seem to have done nothing but mistake people this year. I made a grievous mistake with you, and I believe I have made a mistake with Anne, too.

I took her to be sickly and cross, and I thought –’

She stopped abruptly.