Free Into Hertfordshire by Stanley Michael Hurd Page A

singled out for discourse. She did observe, though, how often his eyes strayed to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and how he stilled his own conversation whenever she spoke in his hearing.
    Therefore, when, in the course of the following Tuesday morning, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were discussing how they were to manage to exist another day in the country and Miss Jane Bennet’s name was put forward as a means of diversion, Caroline was careful to exclude Miss Elizabeth Bennet from her invitation.
    The invitation to Miss Bennet was a happy one, for it began to rain heavily just before noon and the sisters would be forced to stay indoors all day. The men had taken the coach into Meryton in the late morning, and were to have dinner with the officers under Colonel Forster, so the two sisters would be sorely in need of additional conversational resources.
    The men’s business in Meryton, being a matter of no less importance than that of procuring Mr. Hurst a new snuff box, was soon over, and they spent a pleasant afternoon watching it rain over tankards of ale in the principal inn of the village. The ale there was not the best to be had in Meryton, but the inn did afford the finest view of the square and therefore the most diverting scenes of people scurrying about their business through the rain. The highlight of the afternoon was the sight of a very rotund and prosperous-looking gentleman, who, descending incautiously from his chaise, sat down heavily in a puddle. The expression on his face was humorous as he sat where he was for several moments without moving, as if unable to believe the position in which he found himself, as was his obvious disgust as he laboriously extricated himself. Mr. Hurst, particularly, was amused by the gentleman’s predicament, and laughed heartily when the gentleman lost his balance a second time as he sought to regain his feet.
    This episode, with proper embellishment, was retold at the officer’s mess with great success. The dinner conversation in general was good, spiced with bits of little-known intelligence on the war with France, caustic wit at the expense of the Government, and the occasional ribald jest. The three gentlemen were feeling very mellow as they returned through the storm to Netherfield.
    There, however, they found a mild flurry of activity underway. First off, Bingley received the information that his sisters had invited Miss Bennet to visit in his absence, which he resented as a most invidious stratagem. And secondly, he was informed that she had become ill after her arrival, perhaps as a consequence of having come on horseback through the rain, which made him wild with concern. The apothecary had been sent for, and Miss Bennet had been taken to bed. Bingley ran off to find the apothecary to hear his diagnosis first-hand. It struck Darcy as odd that a country miss should have been so imprudent, as he was himself, after all, Country-bred and thoroughly aware of the probable result of such injudicious behaviour. Had she been a member of London’s Society, he would have been tempted to think it had been done intentionally in order to secure a stay at the Hall: a gambit in her bid for Bingley’s attentions. But this did not at all fit with what he believed Miss Bennet’s character to be; he might readily believe such of Miss Bingley, but Miss Bennet’s gentle nature did not seem consistent with the use of arts and cunning in a try for a man’s heart.
    Once the first fit of activity and concern had subsided, Bingley was, of course, very much the thoughtful host, and nothing was spared for Miss Bennet’s comfort. In the morning, as she was no better, Miss Bennet requested that a note be despatched to Longbourn to give her family notice of her illness and to say that she would remain at Netherfield for the time being.
    Miss Bennet was too ill to join them at breakfast, but when Darcy was reading the paper over his second cup of coffee, the footman entered to announce “Miss Elizabeth