Posted on Sunday, 5 February 2006

“In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet's visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard much; but he saw only the father. The ladies were somewhat more fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining, from an upper window, that he wore a blue coat and rode a black horse.” ~ Pride and Prejudice, Vol 1, Ch 3.

“Kitty, you must make room! You are taking all of the seat, and I want to see!” Kitty obligingly moved a bit, and Lydia eagerly pushed closer to the window with a squeal.

“Oh! It is him, I am sure! It is Mr. Bingley to return his visit to Papa. Look how well he looks. Hmmm!” Lydia and Kitty leaned closer to the window, giggling.

“Lydia, you will leave smudges on the glass. He will see you with your nose pressed against the window, and think you very foolish indeed, before he is ever introduced.” Lizzy walked slowly to the window and peered out over her youngest sisters’ heads. “Hmm,” she said softly. Lizzy was sensible, but she was still a Bennet woman, and could tell a fit man when she saw him. Thus, she was determined to reserve judgment upon this gentleman until she could see him. Jane set down her embroidery and moved to stand by Elizabeth.

Mary had found a passage in Fordyce’s Sermons to aptly explain the importance of introductions, and was reading the excerpt aloud to the room. She may as well have been reading to the empty chair beside her, for every other ear was intently listening to the steady rhythm of hoof beats moving closer to the house.

As the man on the horse drew nearer, Jane leaned close to the windowpane and stared, transfixed by the sight. Lizzy looked at her sister curiously. She looked down at the man, who seemed to be tall. Really, that was all she could tell of his person, besides his blue coat.

Bingley was most eager to make this call, of the many he was to make in the neighborhood. He hoped to meet the young ladies of the house, as he had heard them to be very lovely by every account. As he rode up to the house, he looked to the upper window just above the door for there he had seen some movement that caught his eye. He believed he had seen a ray of light, a heavenly glow from one corner of the frame, but upon closer inspection he determined that it was no more than the gleam of the sun reflected upon the glass.

Jane sighed imperceptibly. She could see no more of this Mr. Bingley than could her sister, but she felt something stir in her when she watched him ride up on his horse. His bearing was casual, but he sat straight in the saddle. Watching him with growing interest, she was startled when he looked up to the window. He was at such a distance that she was not able to see his face. Jane wondered at her feeling of disappointment. Leaning even closer, she saw him dismount and pat his horse affectionately before handing his reigns to the groom.

“He seems handsome enough, I suppose,” Lizzy whispered in Jane’s ear, causing her to start. Jane pulled away from the window, coloring. “’Tis not that, Lizzy. I could not even see him! It is simply that I have heard so much of his amiability that I should like to see the gentleman myself.”

Lizzy, who knew that Jane had no such information, smiled at her sister and gave her an arch look. The three other girls in the room had not moved from their positions and were too engaged in their individual tasks to notice the exchange, or the short tussle of pinching and other unladylike comportment that followed.

Mr. Bennet, who was seated in his library waiting for his guest to be announced, heard the sounds of his daughters above stairs. He chuckled softly just as Mr. Charles Bingley was announced and entered the room.

The gentlemen spoke congenially for a few moments, and as polite conversation between new acquaintances tends to, the discussion turned to the weather.

“I agree, Mr. Bingley, that the rainy season is a dreary time for traveling or moving about. The best that can be done in such a situation is to stay in doors by a fire and indulge in some warm pudding.”

Mr. Bingley replied with equal openness to this remark, saying, “Well, sir, I have little opinion on that subject. While I do not claim to have abstained from the dish all my life, I have only tried it once or twice. I find that until I find a wife who is skilled at making pudding, I shall go without.”

“But surely your staff is knowledgeable in culinary accomplishments!” Mr. Bennet declared with surprise.

Bingley shook his head sadly. “While I assure you that my cook, Mrs. Strephon, is skilled in preparing many dishes, I am afraid that only Mr. Strephon benefits from her pudding. She will not serve it at my table, and I find it a small matter and not worth my risking the contentment of the staff by being heavy-handed.”

“That is singular, sir. I suppose, then, that you take your comfort some other way, when the weather forbids sport and other amusements?”

At this, the discussion turned to the advantages of a good billiard table, which was a subject more typical and regular than the former. But as the older man had no such possession and the younger did not play, the discussion ended rather abruptly with both men agreeing that, indeed, it is a pleasant pastime. Mr. Bingley, upon realizing that there was no chance of meeting the celebrated beauties of the Bennet household, decided to continue with his visits in the neighborhood. He bid the older gentleman farewell, took up his hat and gloves and departed from Longbourn.

From the window of his library, Mr. Bennet watched as Mr. Bingley mounted his black horse and rode away, the tails of his blue coat fluttering slightly in the breeze. Above stairs, he heard feminine –though decidedly unladylike- laughter, and the clambering of slippered feet in the direction of the window.
“I believe that this young man will entertain me very well. Yes, I do believe I will find this situation very diverting, indeed.”

With this, he seated himself comfortably and returned to his book.

The End