Mrs. Bennet was delighted. The Assembly had been quite a success, yes, quite a success in her opinion. That Mr. Bingley was such a charming gentleman, so affable, so obliging. And so wealthy - five thousand a year! Further, it was clear he admired Jane. He had twice asked her to dance. Why, it was only a matter of time before he was completely smitten, if he was not already. Mrs. Bennet's only complaint, for she must have one, was that there had been no other eligible young men from the party to meet her other daughters.

"I must say I was rather vexed," said Mrs. Bennet to her husband when at last she tired of singing Mr. Bingley's praises, "for I had been given to understand from some very reliable sources that there was to have been at least one other unmarried gentleman in the Netherfield party, but alas, it was just Mr. Bingley and his brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, at the Assembly. In fact, gentlemen were few, and several of the young ladies, including our Lizzy, had to sit out more than one dance." She looked fondly upon her youngest girls. "Though, of course, Kitty and Lydia never wanted for partners."

Mr. Bennet shrugged. He had, indeed, heard the same rumour of an additional gentleman from others in the neighbourhood, but having paid a call to Netherfield and seen no one else, and further, caring naught for the social interactions that so enchanted his wife, he had nothing further to add.

Ere long Jane received an invitation to dine with Mr. Bingley's sisters. Mrs. Bennet's pleasure in this invitation was somewhat tempered by the discovery that Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hurst would be dining out with the officers, and thus she contrived that Jane should go to Netherfield on horseback, counting on approaching foul weather to keep her daughter with her new friends overnight. The scheme worked to her satisfaction, though a note from Jane the next morning bore the news that becoming thoroughly soaked from the ride in the rain had occasioned in her a sore throat and a headache, forcing her to remain at Netherfield for the foreseeable future. Elizabeth, disgusted by her mother's machinations and determined to see after the welfare of her sister, walked the three miles to Netherfield Park.

Elizabeth came upon the party in the breakfast room and during enquiries after her sister noted that there were indeed only two gentlemen present: Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hurst. She did not know whence sprung the rumour of a third gentleman, unless it was a mistaken glimpse of Miss Bingley, who was after all on the tall side, rather taller than the women with whom Elizabeth was generally acquainted.

"Dearest Jane," Elizabeth cried as she was shown into her sister's room. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, Lizzy, do not fret over me," her sister replied weakly. "I do have a violent cold, it is true, but I have been receiving the best of care."

"Care that you would not need had you a more sensible mother."

"Now, Lizzy, do not blame Mama; she means well, although at times she does not perhaps think things through."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "In that, at least, we are in agreement."

"But I have been cared for most diligently. You do not know, Lizzy, that they have a London doctor here, a Mr. Hampton, who has been in to wait on me."

"A London doctor, you say? Extraordinary! Are they clairvoyant to so anticipate their guests' needs? Or is there perhaps a hypochondriac in the party?" Elizabeth chuckled. "My guess would be Mrs. Hurst. She seems fastidious enough, and I suppose that the local apothecary would be not good enough for her."

"In truth, I do not know the reason for his presence, only that he is staying here at Netherfield with the Bingleys and the Hursts. He is a very kind man, a capable physician, and he has made me as comfortable as I possibly can be."

"Well, then, we must be grateful for Mr. Hampton's presence, if for nothing else."

"Why do you say that? I have been treated with extraordinary kindness; Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst have been admirable hostesses."

"Perhaps, though I felt their disapprobation the moment I walked into the room. Still, I am satisfied that you are being well looked after, and I need not worry about you."

And so the day passed away, with Elizabeth in constant attendance upon Jane. When the clock struck three, however, 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 into 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.

When it was time for dinner, Elizabeth headed down the stairs to join her hosts, but paused just outside the dining room when she heard a conversation clearly not meant for her ears, recognizing first the voice of Mrs. Hurst:

"She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild."

"She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowsy!"

"Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it not doing its office."

"Your picture may be very exact, Louisa," Elizabeth heard Mr. Bingley say, "but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well, when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice."

Well done, Mr. Bingley, well done.

"To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone!" Miss Bingley continued. "What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum."

"It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing," said Bingley.

A short pause followed this speech, and Mrs. Hurst began again.

"I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it." Elizabeth flinched. It was one thing to insult her, but quite another to attack her family.

"I think I have heard you say, that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton."

"Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside."

"That is capital," added her sister, and they both laughed heartily. Elizabeth's face began to grow red with anger and distress. How dare they! How dare they make my family an object of their wit!

"If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside," cried Bingley, "it would not make them one jot less agreeable."

"But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world," replied Mr. Hurst.

To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters gave it their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the expense of their dear friend's vulgar relations.

Elizabeth had heard quite enough. She was near tears, and had lost her appetite for dining with such companions, Mr. Bingley's defense notwithstanding. Under any other circumstances she would have entered the room at once and told its occupants exactly what she thought of them. But her concern for Jane gave her pause. It might be days before her sister was well enough to return to Longbourn, and until then, they were both guests of the Bingleys, and must comport themselves as such. No matter how rude and hurtful they were, she and Jane must not be. Elizabeth decided, therefore, to bear it as best she could, and pretend that nothing had happened. But she was certainly not ready to greet her hosts in such a state.

So instead, she fled to the library. Once inside, she gave vent to her anger.

"The nerve of those people!" she exclaimed aloud to the room at large. "To insult me and my family in such a way, and while I am a guest in their house! Do they think me such a fool? Do they suppose that I am unaware of the low regard in which they hold us?

"I hardly know," came a male voice from a darkened corner.

"I beg your pardon, sir," she cried, mortified. "I had not known anyone else to be in the room."

"Indeed, madam," the man replied from the darkness, "there is no need to apologize. After all, I have not made myself apparent." Her eyes having somewhat adjusted to the low light, Elizabeth could just make out his shape in a wing chair.

"Well, then," she said, composing herself, "I pray you will excuse my outburst. It is not my habit to reveal my most intimate thoughts to strangers in such a clumsy manner. I had been affronted, but it was inexcusable of me to give voice to such hateful thoughts."

"That may be true, but your loyalty to your family does you credit."

What a puzzling remark. Why does he not reveal himself? "I thank you, sir. Do excuse me; I had not meant to interrupt your solitude. I will leave you now." And with a brief curtsey, Elizabeth hastily quitted the room.

"My solitude?" the stranger whispered as his companion departed. "By all means, interrupt my damned solitude. I have had my fill of that lately." Finally, he had something new with which to distract himself, and he gave it his full attention. So this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, whose sister took sick yesterday and now lies abed upstairs. It seems Miss Elizabeth has quite a passionate temper. I wonder who could have so discomposed her. My guess is Caroline; her tongue is too sharp by half, though it is unlike her to insult a guest, which apparently this young lady is now as well. His pleasant musings turned sour. When was she invited to stay? At least her sister is confined to her rooms. Will I now take a tray in my chambers for the length of Miss Elizabeth's visit? Forego all entertainment because of her presence? What utter foolishness!

"I have done with hiding from the world!" he declared quietly into the darkness. "The Bingleys have been more than kind, but I shall go mad sequestering myself away from everyone else. Let them talk about me, if they will. Pity me, if they dare. Vanity I can spare, for that is a weakness indeed, but pride I cannot. Tonight I will join the others and their new guest after dinner, and she will have to look upon me as I am, her delicate sensibilities be damned!"

And, rising from his chair in determination, the gentleman reached for the bell pull to summon a servant.

"Are you quite certain, sir?" the physician asked the gentleman as the valet commenced his grooming rituals.

"Yes, Mr. Hampton, I am."

"With all due respect, sir, have you considered the ramifications? After all, at this time no one in Hertfordshire even suspects another gentleman to be in residence at Netherfield. Once this new guest of the Bingleys' makes your acquaintance, all of Meryton will know you are here. There will be whispers and stares. Are you prepared for the consequences of going out into society? You are, if you will forgive my impertinence, not known to be a man who seeks out the companionship of others. Can you not bear the seclusion a little longer?"

"How much longer, Mr. Hampton?" The gentleman's voice took on a bitter edge. "You have no more idea than I do. Weeks? Months? Forever? Can you imagine what it has been like for me? Confined within the borders of a strange estate? With the unvarying company of five individuals? No sport, no entertainments of any sort? Shall we now add insanity to my tally of hardships? No, Mr. Hampton, I have thought about it at length; I am most determined, and you shall help me."

Mr. Hampton bowed. "As you wish, sir."

When finally Elizabeth entered the dining room, she had all the appearance of equanimity, when, in fact, this was far from the truth. She had yet to recover from the assault upon her sensibilities that had occurred just outside this room not five minutes prior, and she was still unnerved by the presence of the mysterious gentleman in the library.

Still, upon Mr. Bingley's welcoming smile, she managed a smile in return, and sat down with the group which had so lately offended her excessively.

"How does your sister do, Miss Eliza?" queried Miss Bingley as the first course was served.

"I fear she is still feverish, Miss Bingley. But I wish to thank you most sincerely for your hospitality and the generosity of your attentions. Jane has told me that a London physician has already been to see her." A sudden thought struck her. The doctor! Of course! "I believe I met Mr. Hampton in the library just before I came to dinner. Will he be joining us? I would very much like to thank him personally."

Miss Bingley looked puzzled. "In the library? No, Mr. Hampton is in Meryton at the moment..." Then, a new idea dawned, and, aghast, she added quickly, "But of course he could have returned by now. He will not, alas, be joining us for dinner, but I will convey your thanks to him."

Having experienced Miss Bingley's duplicitous side, Elizabeth did not entirely trust her hostess to make good on her promise, and fully intended to seek out the physician as soon as may be to express her gratitude in person. Meanwhile, she found it necessary to contend with the thinly veiled insults still issuing from the ladies at the table.

"Dear Jane tells us that you have an uncle in trade," Caroline said with a broad smile and a wink at her sister. "How very interesting."

"Yes," Elizabeth replied with great assurance, revealing none of her ire as she calmly ate her dinner, for in her uncle at least she had one relation for whom there was no need to blush. "Mr. Gardiner is a very interesting man indeed. He has traveled far and wide, to the Indies as well as the Americas. As a result, he has a broad scope of experience and has never hesitated to share his knowledge with my sisters and me. We are all the beneficiaries of his expanded understanding."

Miss Bingley having been thus deflated, Mrs. Hurst took up the challenge. "And he lives where, exactly?"

"On Gracechurch Street. Oh, surely not the most fashionable of addresses, I know, but it is a house filled with laughter and people I adore: Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and their four delightful children. Really, who could desire more?"

"Who, indeed!" answered Bingley in a jovial manner, ignoring his sisters, who both glared at him. Having no success with her previous line of questioning, Caroline took a different tack.

"Upon my word, Louisa, were there not gowns at the Meryton Assembly no fewer than three seasons old?" At her sister's laughing agreement, she addressed Elizabeth, "I have long desired to ask you, Miss Eliza: do you not have access to London fashion publications here in the country? Or capable seamstresses? Or are the ladies of Hertfordshire simply more concerned with more mundane matters such as the condition of their livestock?"

"Honestly, Caroline!" Mr. Bingley objected.

"It is so easy," Elizabeth replied coldly, "to make presumptions about individuals based on surface characteristics such as their mode of dress. But I have long been of the opinion that appearance is not everything. Is not beauty in the eye of the beholder? Have we not often been warned against judging a book by its cover? A lack of current fashion reveals nothing of a lady's relative intelligence or ignorance, or her character for that matter. One could, for example, dress a cow in a gown of the latest cut, but it would never make of her a lady."

Miss Bingley looked shocked, and could answer only, "I can assure you that I had intended no offense." And for a while, all conversation was at an end, until the gentlemen began discussing plans for shooting on the morrow.

Elizabeth was content that she had prevailed, but the effort of containing her anger, maintaining her countenance and responding appropriately to Caroline and Louisa fatigued her. After the gentlemen left the table, she would have excused herself, but she was reluctant to give the ladies the satisfaction of having chased her away. So she stubbornly resolved to stay through the evening's entertainment, which she knew to be loo, despite not being fond of the game herself.

The cards were already in play when an unexpected visitor appeared in the parlour. He was a distinguished-looking man of about five-and-forty, of average build and height, with grey hair and a pleasant demeanour.

"Good evening, ladies, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Hurst," the newcomer said.

"Why, hello, Mr. Hampton," replied Bingley. "What an unexpected pleasure."

"Do forgive me," he said, "I did not mean to interrupt your game." He smiled at Elizabeth. "Would this be your new guest?"

Miss Bingley immediately remembered her duty as hostess. "Miss Eliza Bennet, may I have the honour of introducing Mr. Hampton? He is a physician from Town who...whom we have the pleasure of having as our guest, and who has been tending to Jane." The gentleman bowed. "Mr. Hampton, this is Miss Bennet's sister, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth made a curtsey in return.

"Mr. Hampton," said she, "please allow me to thank you, on behalf of my sister, and my entire family, for your kind attentions to Jane during her illness. We can surely all rest more easily knowing that we have the benefit of your expertise."

"It has been my pleasure, Miss Bennet," replied Mr. Hampton with a sincere smile. "You need not worry about your sister; I see nothing alarming, and I am sure she will soon be on the mend."

"I am glad to hear it." How very odd, thought Elizabeth. This is surely not the same voice I heard in the library. It cannot be the same man!

"Was your business in Meryton completed to your satisfaction, sir?" enquired Mr. Bingley.

"As a matter of fact, it was. Mr. Jones is an agreeable fellow, and his apothecary is indeed well stocked. I was able to obtain all that I required."

"Mr. Hampton, I did not know that you were planning on making an appearance this evening," Miss Bingley said, a nervous note in her voice. "Would you care to join us at cards?"

"I thank you, no, Miss Bingley," the doctor said, looking about the room and settling his eyes upon a chair by the fire. "I have a matter to attend to. Will you excuse me?" And with a curt bow, he left the room.

As the rest of the party turned their attention back to their cards, Elizabeth remained exceedingly perplexed. "Miss Bingley, is there not another gentleman in the house?"

"No." Caroline replied flatly.

"I am quite certain that Mr. Hampton is not the man whom I encountered before dinner. That voice was much deeper."

"Miss Eliza, what utter nonsense. I can assure you..."

Miss Bingley could not complete her sentence, for just moments after his departure, Mr. Hampton reappeared at the door. This time, however, he was not alone.

Close upon the physician's heels, his hand upon Mr. Hampton's shoulder, walked a tall gentleman with broad shoulders, noble bearing, and, to Elizabeth's horror, a cheek that was a most unnatural shade of crimson, and bandages wound securely 'round the upper portion of his head, completely enshrouding his eyes.

"Mr. Darcy!" Miss Bingley exclaimed in alarm.

Recovering herself, Caroline added, in an artificially cheerful manner, "How delightful that you have decided to join us!" She approached Mr. Darcy in haste and, lowering her voice, added urgently, "Do you know that we are entertaining a guest from the neighbourhood?"

"I do indeed, madam. Pray, you will introduce us?"

Nonplussed, Miss Bingley could do naught but comply. Clutching his arm, she turned him to face Elizabeth. "Certainly. Mr. Darcy, may I present Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Miss Eliza, this is Mr. Darcy, of Pemberley, Derbyshire."

Mr. Darcy bowed smartly. "A pleasure, Miss Bennet."

That voice! It had been Mr. Darcy in the library! Elizabeth realized that she had been standing with her mouth agape and quickly regained her composure. She must speak; it would not do to let the gentleman know that his appearance had disconcerted her. She said, with as much confidence as she could muster:

"I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth gave a curtsey, though she knew full well that the gesture could not be appreciated by the person to whom it was directed.

Mr. Hampton guided Mr. Darcy to his chair by the fire, and bade his patient sit. Then he took a seat somewhat off to the side.

"I am so very glad to have you with us this evening, Darcy!" Mr. Bingley exclaimed, all good humour. "And how nice of you to join us, Mr. Hampton."

"Thank you, Bingley," said Darcy.

There was then an awkward silence in the room as the group cast glances at each other, attempting to decide whether to continue with its game of cards. Mr. Hurst, however, insisted upon it, and the players resumed their seats, ever conscious of the addition to their party.

"Miss Bennet, Mr. Hampton tells me that he has been attending your sister. How do you find her?"

Elizabeth was startled. She had, in fact, been making an effort to attend to the game and treat the gentleman's presence as the most natural thing in the world. Not knowing whether she could trust his discretion, she also feared somewhat that he would allude to her tirade in the library. But she had not expected to be addressed by him directly. Laying down her cards, she turned toward him and said:

"She is not at all well, Mr. Darcy. She suffers from a fever and a sore throat. But since Mr. Hampton tells me not to be overly concerned, I have every confidence that she will be better soon." The doctor smiled, and acknowledged her compliment with a slight bow of his head. "I thank you for asking."

"Miss Eliza," Miss Bingley said in a low voice, but intentionally loud enough for all to hear, "it will not do to stare at Mr. Darcy so."

"Miss Bingley, you know I do nothing of the sort!" Elizabeth exclaimed indignantly. "When one has been addressed, I believe it is proper to face the person who has asked the question!"

Mr. Darcy folded his arms across his chest and pursed his lips. It irked him not to know if he was in fact an object of curiosity to their intriguing new guest. "No doubt you are wondering what has brought me to these circumstances, Miss Bennet."

To Elizabeth, this question was wholly unforeseen. "I would not be so ill-mannered as to enquire, Mr. Darcy," said she.

"No doubt you would not. So I will take the burden from you and tell you that I had been hunting with my good friend Mr. Bingley about a week ago, and the weapon misfired badly. Blew up in my face, as it were. Your Mr. Jones was summoned, and he did what he could with his poultices and whatnot, but we sent straightaway to Town for a proper doctor. Mr. Hampton, here, is an esteemed colleague of my family physician in London, a highly respected practitioner of the medical arts, and he was kind enough to leave all his other business behind to attend to me in Hertfordshire." He paused. "It will be some time before we know when I will regain my sight...if at all, or how bad the scarring about my eyes will be."

"I am very sorry to hear it, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said sincerely. It was obvious from the man's bearing he was resentful of his injury and quite unused to being helpless, or, for that matter, she thought wryly, being in the care of a lowly country apothecary. Yet, she sensed, he would not want her sympathy. "Let us hope, then, that Mr. Hampton can assist you on your way to a speedy and complete recovery."

"Hear, hear!" exclaimed Bingley.

"There is one thing that puzzles me, however, Mr. Darcy," added Elizabeth unexpectedly. "There are none in Meryton who knew aught of your accident, nor any for that matter who even knew definitively that you were in residence here. In a small town such as ours, how is it that your presence among us could have gone unnoticed?"

Mr. Darcy tilted his head in wonder at the question, an impertinent one, to be sure. But how could he explain away his shame at being an invalid, his fear of being an object of pity to the neighbourhood? How could he describe how the servants had been paid for their silence, and Mr. Jones compensated well above his usual rate for his discretion? How indeed?

"Come, now, do we play or not?" asked Mr. Hurst, saving Darcy from the necessity of answering, at least for now.

"I think," Miss Bingley said, "that we are being abominably rude to Mr. Darcy, who cannot share in this evening's entertainment. Let us leave off playing cards, then, and have some music."

"Miss Bingley," that gentleman said with some annoyance, "you are aware that I request no special consideration. I ask only that you include me in your conversation."

"That is so noble of you, Mr. Darcy." Miss Bingley ignored his irritated snort, but the noise was not lost upon Elizabeth. "Yet how could we enjoy our game knowing that you cannot? No, no, I insist. I will open the pianoforte. Louisa, will you not join me in a duet?"

And so with much scraping of chairs and much griping from Mr. Hurst, the card game ended. Miss Bingley, who enjoyed nothing more than being able to demonstrate her accomplishments, started on a difficult piece, with her sister joining in.

Under cover of observing the performance, Elizabeth had ample opportunity to covertly examine the scowling Mr. Darcy. He was yet a young man, not quite thirty. His garments spoke of great wealth, his comportment of superior blood. His fingers were long and fine, his teeth white and even, his chin strong, his dark hair - what she could see of it - thick and wavy. In short, before his accident he had no doubt been an extraordinary specimen of masculine beauty and breeding. She thought that he could not but become embittered by the experience, and the grave doubts of regaining his sight or his looks. Having been raised accustomed to respect, he now engendered pity. He does not feel noble at all, Miss Bingley. Can you not tell? He feels cheated.

Occupied in observing Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of Mr. Hampton. He thought this young lady very charming. Her skin held the youthful, healthy glow of a person accustomed to the outdoors. Her face was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded another, equally agreeable. Though he had detected with a critical physician's eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he observed her figure to be light and pleasing. Indeed, there was much here for a man to appreciate.

Miss Bingley finished her first song, to the applause of the assembled, and directly began a second. Upon the conclusion of the second song, she would have started on a third, but Mr. Darcy interrupted.

"That was well done, Miss Bingley, but shall we not hear Miss Elizabeth Bennet play?"

For the third time that evening, Elizabeth was startled by the gentleman's voice. She was also somewhat vexed. It was rather officious of him to request that she, a complete stranger, play. She politely declined.

Welcoming the opportunity to demonstrate the difference in abilities between her and the simple country miss, Caroline was delighted to turn over the pianoforte to Elizabeth. "By all means," she said with a smile, "let us hear Miss Eliza play."

"I fear my performance will do me no credit," Elizabeth protested, "for I play very ill indeed. My skills are certainly nothing to yours, Miss Bingley."

"Oh, do not be modest, Miss Eliza. I am sure that your talents are amply appreciated by your little neighbourhood." Elizabeth did not like the tone of this reply, nor its unpleasant undercurrent. "Besides, Mr. Darcy desires it, and we would not wish to disappoint him."

"By all means, you would not wish to disappoint me, Miss Bennet," Darcy muttered, his voice peevish in response to Miss Bingley's fawning. "One must at all costs humour the blind man."

It was evident that Mr. Darcy was a man generally unused to disappointment, though Elizabeth wondered how much of his rudeness sprang from this sense of entitlement, and how much was shaped by his circumstances. But a request from Mr. Bingley - who said, kindly, "Oh, please play. Will you not indulge us just this once, Miss Elizabeth?" - touched her.

"Very well, then," Elizabeth replied, and sat down to play. Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. Miss Bingley could not help but triumph as she glanced at her sister, nodding.

Yet, for two in the party, Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing half so well. While Mr. Darcy could not, as Mr. Hampton could, admire the fair performer's countenance as she sang, he could enjoy the genuine feeling with which she performed. The harshness about his mouth softened, and he was as near to a smile as he had been since he was injured.

This change in his countenance went unnoticed by all, except Miss Bingley, who had not missed the sour expression with which he had earlier graced her own presentation. Perhaps he had heard those compositions once too often. She frowned in displeasure.

After two songs, Elizabeth begged to be excused, her fatigue finally overwhelming her. Further, she wished to see her sister before she retired. As she bid good night to the party, Mr. Darcy rose and reached out his hand. Misinterpreting his gesture, Miss Bingley hastened to his side, and gripped his elbow, saying in her most ingratiating tone, "How may I assist you, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy disengaged her hand with something approaching distaste. "Miss Bingley, I can assure you that some things I am still quite capable of doing for myself." His pleasant mood vanished, and his voice filled with frustration. He was never discourteous to a lady, but his disability made him quite unlike himself, and Caroline more attentive toward him than usual, almost unbearably so. He was heartily ashamed of his ill behaviour, and yet, he could hardly help it. This, Elizabeth had no way of knowing. "I merely wish to say good night to your guest," he said in a softened tone. He extended his hand again.

Elizabeth, thus summoned, put her hand in Mr. Darcy's. He bowed over it and, to her surprise, placed a quick kiss upon it. "It has been a pleasure, Miss Bennet." He held onto it a bit longer than was strictly proper, briefly running his thumb along its back.

"Thank you," said Elizabeth in almost a whisper, withdrawing her hand. And, with a curtsey to the rest of the party, she quitted the room.

Once all the novelty of the evening had departed along with Elizabeth, neither Miss Bingley's entreaties nor those of her brother could tempt Mr. Darcy to stay, and he excused himself and Mr. Hampton minutes later.

Reaching the privacy of his chambers, Darcy asked, "So, Mr. Hampton, what do you think?"

The doctor guided his patient to a chair and began changing his dressings. "Of what, sir?"

"I mean of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Tell me - what does she look like? Be specific, now."

Mr. Hampton smiled. As a physician, he was accustomed to being precise, but as a man, he had other, more agreeable, reasons for paying careful attention to the details of her appearance. "She is of modest height, several inches shorter than myself, I would say, with brown, no, chestnut hair pinned up in a simple style. Her eyes are a deep brown, large and intelligent, framed by remarkably fine black eyelashes." He stopped briefly, considering the memory with pleasure.

"What did she wear?"

"I am no expert on women's dress, but I can tell you that she wore a cream-coloured gown that flattered her figure but was not of the latest style I have seen on ladies in Town."

"And how is her figure?"

"Pardon?"

"Her figure. Come now, Mr. Hampton, you are not telling me anything I would not have been able to see for myself. You are a man of science, after all; surely you can tell me if she is fat, or lean..."

"She is slender, but with...appropriate curves. Mr. Darcy, I am not comfortable discussing..."

"Fine, fine. Is she pretty?"

"She is not what I would consider classically beautiful; that compliment I would reserve for her sister, Miss Jane Bennet. But I find her very handsome, indeed."

"That will suffice for now." The dressings changed and intelligence obtained, Darcy wished to be alone. "Thank you, Mr. Hampton. Please join me tomorrow morning; we will be breakfasting with the Bingleys, and we will join the rest of the party for meals from now on."

"Till the morning then, Mr. Darcy. Rest well."

After Mr. Hampton's exit, Darcy took some time to mull over the description with which he had been provided. There were still some gaps: the shape of her face, of her mouth, her nose...the configuration of her "appropriate curves." He arranged the information he had as best he could, supplemented what was lacking with what he found most appealing, and came up with a very satisfying image. This he added to what he already knew about her: that she smelled of wildflowers, that her skin was soft, her voice rich and musical. It was the first pleasant thought he had had in a week, and it helped him find sleep more quickly than lately had been his habit.

"Poor Mr. Darcy!" Jane exclaimed as Elizabeth sat in her sister's room, relating the singular events of the evening. "To be thus wounded, in the prime of his life. What a shame."

"Jane, I tell you, it was so odd. They had kept his presence a secret from the entire neighbourhood the whole time. Miss Bingley even denied to my face the existence of another gentleman at Netherfield, not one minute before he appeared in the parlour."

"Perhaps Mr. Hampton did not deem him well enough to socialize."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps he is too proud to expose himself as less than perfect among mere country society." She thought for a moment. "But it was not just his sudden and unexpected appearance that discomfited me, Jane. Although he could not see me at all, I felt his attention fixed upon me the entire time. When we parted, he kissed my hand, and even held onto it a moment longer afterward."

"Well, for the past week he has encountered no one but the Bingleys and Hursts, and anticipated no variety. No wonder he found you so interesting, Lizzy."

"No, Jane, I can hardly account for it. We barely spoke. I sang but two songs, and very badly. Miss Bingley was all attentiveness to him, but could not see that he did not wish it at all. I fear he was quite rude to her. He seems in fact to have been badly spoilt and has never before had to contend with things not going his own way. I feel sorry for him, but not for his infirmity. Perhaps it will be good for him."

"You cannot mean it!"

Elizabeth laughed. "I wish no suffering on him, Jane. Truly, I hope he makes a complete recovery - it would be shame to ruin such an obviously handsome face."

"Lizzy!"

"I mean only that it would not hurt for him to learn a little humility." She sighed. "But Mr. Hampton seems a genteel sort of man. I suppose it is worth tolerating Mr. Darcy's presence to have the services of a 'proper doctor' from Town." The two giggled together. "For now, my dearest, it is time for both of us to retire. Sleep well." And Elizabeth kissed her sister good night. Once in her room, bowing to the exhaustion of a day which had included a long walk and much emotional turmoil, she fell easily into slumber.

In fact, of all the denizens of Netherfield, the sole person to whom sleep did not come at once was Miss Bingley. She was seriously displeased. For reasons she could not fathom, and despite his inability even to see their new guest, Mr. Darcy had an obvious interest in Miss Eliza, and it had not gone completely unnoticed. Still, Caroline knew it would be easy enough to turn the tide, for Mr. Darcy knew nothing of the Bennet family or their low connections. Yet. It would fall to her and Louisa to educate him.

Miss Bingley was exceedingly surprised when, upon descending the next morning, she met both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Hampton already seated in the breakfast parlour. Her footsteps alerted Darcy to her presence, and he knew to stand and greet her.

"Good morning!" she trilled. "I had no idea that we would be graced with your presence this morning, gentlemen."

"Good morning, Miss Bingley," Darcy replied pleasantly.

"Miss Bingley," Mr. Hampton said with a bow, "your brother and Mr. Hurst requested that I tell you that they have already breakfasted and have gone out shooting. They will join us later. Mrs. Hurst has not yet been downstairs, nor has Miss Elizabeth."

In fact, Miss Bingley already had it on the authority of her lady's maid that Miss Eliza, visiting with her sister, would not be down for at least another five minutes. Time enough. "Thank you, Mr. Hampton. Have you been in to see Miss Bennet this morning?"

"I have."

"And how does she do?"

"I am delighted to report that she is much better today, Miss Bingley. Her fever has abated, and I have every hope that she will take something more substantial than broth today."

"Dear Jane, I am excessively sorry that she is ill. She is quite agreeable; you will be delighted to know her, Mr. Darcy, once she is better." She sighed theatrically. "What a great pity, then."

"What is?" Darcy asked.

"Why, that her family is always an object of amusement in the neighbourhood."

"How so?"

Hah! He has risen to the bait! Miss Bingley leaned in and spoke in a low voice. "Miss Bennet is the eldest of five daughters, the youngest being but fifteen. They are all out, Mr. Darcy, even the very youngest, although the eldest have not even the glimmer of a prospect for marriage! " She paused to allow this intelligence to have an effect. "They never had a governess, never went to Town for the benefit of the Masters there."

"This is indeed shocking. You mean they never had an education? Miss Elizabeth has apparently learned to play and sing."

"I have it from their neighbours, the Lucases, that they had masters enough, but those who chose to be idle, certainly might." Caroline was sure to omit the other information she had from Lady Lucas: that the Bennet girls were always encouraged by their father to read, and that Elizabeth in particular was known in the neighbourhood for her extensive reading, intelligence and wit.

"You make the family sound quite a horror," Mr. Hampton said, disapprovingly, for he was able to see the cunning in Miss Bingley's eyes, and did not accept all that she presented as truth.

"That, alas, is not the half of it," Miss Bingley added in a confidential tone. "For the two youngest are flirts of the worst kind, and their mother is known to be a shrill-mouthed busybody, her only aim in life seeking unsuspecting gentlemen upon whom to foist her girls, all the more difficult because they have no dowry to speak of. Worst of all, their nearest relations are in trade, and live near Cheapside! I tell you this, Mr. Darcy, because I fear that my brother may be becoming attached to dear Jane, and while I think her a lovely girl, it is clear that he would be making a dreadful mistake in aligning himself with an uneducated country family. Perhaps you might speak to him about it?"

"Perhaps."

"I knew I could rely on you, Mr. Darcy." Having thus planted the seed, Miss Bingley sat back, satisfied.

Mr. Darcy was attempting to square this new information with what little he already knew - or thought he knew - of Miss Elizabeth. She did not strike him as an ignorant country girl. She sounded very much like a proper lady to him. Still, if her family was truly as vulgar and her connections truly as low as Caroline said...tsk. A great shame. Especially for Bingley. Yet he was aware that someone had already insulted Miss Elizabeth's family in this same manner within her hearing, and now he was certain it had been Miss Bingley. He would have to take her words with no small measure of skepticism.

"There you are, Miss Eliza!" Miss Bingley declared loudly, signaling their tête-à-tête to be at an end. "We were quite in despair of your joining us. Will you not have some breakfast?"

"I will, thank you. Good morning Mr. Darcy, Mr. Hampton."

"Good morning," the two said in unison.

"Mr. Hampton," Elizabeth said, "Jane tells me that you have already looked in on her this morning."

"Indeed, and I found her much improved."

"Yes, I am very glad of it. I cannot tell you what a comfort it has been to know that she has been in such capable hands. I hope you will call upon us when we return to Longbourn so we will have the pleasure of introducing you to our parents?"

Mr. Hampton beamed; it pleased him greatly that she would wish to advance their acquaintance. "Miss Elizabeth, who could decline such a gracious invitation? I thank you; I would be delighted to become acquainted with your family." This he said in pointed rebuttal to Miss Bingley, but the latter was caught up in seeing that Mr. Darcy had fresh coffee and missed the exchange entirely.

It was, however, not lost upon Mr. Darcy. He was cheered by Mr. Hampton's attitude and trusted that the doctor's judgment would not err.

Casting about for some way to start a conversation with her, Darcy started with that most banal of topics: the weather. "Pray, tell me, Miss Bennet: how is the weather today? Am I correct in saying it is a sunny day? For it seems that way to me. Is it fine enough for a turn in the gardens?"

Elizabeth was surprised. She had assumed that Mr. Darcy to be in complete darkness, and had not considered that he could still discern the difference between gloom and light. "You are indeed correct, sir, for the sun is shining very brightly this morning. I believe it will be a very pleasant day for a walk in the gardens."

"A lovely idea, to be sure," exclaimed Miss Bingley, "is it not, Louisa?"

Mrs. Hurst had just reached the breakfast parlour, but immediately concurred with her sister that it was, in fact, a lovely idea. The group decided, then, to take a turn outdoors immediately after breakfast.

As Elizabeth sipped her coffee and listened to the conversation around her, she marveled at the interaction between Mr. Hampton and Mr. Darcy. The physician appeared to be indispensable to his patient. Imagine the level of trust that must exist between the parties in such a relationship!Having arrived later than the gentlemen for breakfast, she mused on how Mr. Darcy might manage his food, whether the servants had to arrange it just so on his plate or even if perhaps they cut his meals into small pieces, the way one would for a young child. This must be a vexation indeed for a grown man; she wondered how he bore it; somehow she suspected it was a source of great mortification for such an apparently proud individual. She had heard that the blind eventually grew accustomed to their lot, and were able to fend for themselves surprisingly well, but developing this sort of ability took time, and she considered that it had been just a week since the accident that had rendered Mr. Darcy sightless. Shifting her attention to the physician, Elizabeth had to admit that Mr. Hampton took prodigious care of this patient as well as her sister. He appeared to be intelligent as well as considerate, and her esteem for him grew.

Once breakfast was complete, the party headed out of doors. Mr. Hampton assisted Mr. Darcy in reaching the gardens. Once outside, however, Miss Bingley took one of the gentleman's arms, and Mrs. Hurst the other, leaving Mr. Hampton to walk beside Elizabeth. This the latter minded not at all, as she thought that he would be a far more pleasant companion than Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth was easily proved right, as Mr. Hampton was an able and witty conversationalist as well as a charming gentleman. They began by speaking of her sister, but the talk soon turned to Mr. Darcy's situation. The patient himself was far enough behind them on the path that Mr. Hampton felt comfortable relating his story, but he remained circumspect.

"We were very fortunate that Mr. Jones acted upon the injury immediately, otherwise things might have been a great deal worse."

"I thought the situation very grave indeed," Elizabeth replied in a low voice.

"Oh, to be sure, we do not know yet what the lasting effects will be. But your Mr. Jones immediately created some sort of a poultice created from molds and herbs - remarkable, really - that actually kept the infection at bay. He has since shown me how to prepare it, and I treat Mr. Darcy with it daily.

"The injury, I must say, was frightful. Mr. Darcy suffered two days of high fever; it is his good fortune that he is young and healthy, and survived that battle. The skin appears to be healing well, but his eyes..." He shook his head.

"Do you believe he will be entirely blind?" Elizabeth asked in a horrified whisper. She had not really taken seriously the possibility, despite Mr. Darcy's assertion the previous day.

"In truth, I do not know. In time, he may recover the sight in one eye. Or not. About the other, I do not wish to speculate." He sighed. "As human being, never mind as a doctor, it pains me to see such a strong, vital gentleman in such a state. And yet, he accepts only the help he absolutely requires; he does not wish to be coddled."

"Indeed it appears to me that he would quickly reject any sentiments that savoured of pity or solicitude." After that, while they spoke of other things, Elizabeth could not leave off thinking of Mr. Darcy's condition. She had to admit to herself that he was being unusually courageous in the face of a most catastrophic circumstance, and that his ill humour was understandable.

After about half an hour, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst claimed fatigue, and expressed a desire to return to the house. Upon discovering that the post had arrived in their absence, and that in it was a long-awaited letter for Mr. Hampton, the doctor owned that he, too, would rather go inside. Elizabeth, loath to sit indoors on such a beautiful day, declined. "I think I will remain outside for a while, Miss Bingley. I am not at all fatigued," she said with some emphasis, "for you already know me to be an excellent walker."

Miss Bingley was taken aback, and for a moment was at a loss as to what to say next. Filling the silence, Mr. Darcy said, "Miss Bennet, I would be pleased to remain in the gardens with you." Painfully aware that his presence could be construed as a burden, he added, "That is, if you would not mind acting as my escort."

"Not at all, Mr. Darcy. It would be my pleasure," she said, although she expected nothing of the sort.

He extended his arm, and she grasped it, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. Making their courtesies to the others, the two resumed their walk while the rest of the party went back inside.

Once inside the house, the group separated, for Mr. Hampton knew enough of the sisters that he did not wish to pass time with them alone, and with a bow he retreated to the library with his letter, while they went into the parlour.

Almost immediately upon reaching the parlour, as if it had taken her some effort to restrain herself, Mrs. Hurst burst out,

"Really, Caroline, I do not understand why you persist in pursuing Mr. Darcy! You do not know what his condition will be; do you truly wish to be tied down to an invalid? With that nursemaid of his always following him around?"

Her sister scowled at her. "Do not be a fool, Louisa! Whoever will have the honour of becoming Mrs. Darcy will marry not only the man. Would she not also become mistress of Pemberley, Darcy House, and his ten thousand pounds per annum? That is why he must feel me indispensable to him during this trying time. Oh, do not mistake me - you know I wish him a complete recovery, but even if it is not to be, is his being blind really worse than say, being a rake, or," she added, her eyebrows raised, "a tippler?"

Louisa scowled in return. She made no secret of Mr. Hurst's predilections; indeed, whoever knew him knew well his taste for spirits. But she thought it abominably rude of Caroline to voice it.

"To be sure," Miss Bingley continued with a sigh, "it would be a very great pity if he should lose his looks; he is by far the handsomest man of our acquaintance. And it would indeed be a shame to lose such an excellent dance partner. Yet, how often, really, does he dance? You know he dislikes the amusement in general; I have no doubt that once we married I would be dancing without him in any case. And we would have servants to assist him in anything else he required. Yes, I believe my life would go on pretty much as it has, Louisa. Except I would be part of the ancient and noble Darcy family and," she added with a smile, "very, very rich."

"To be sure. But what of his mood, Caro? Have you considered that he would be less than affable if he should remain blind? Would he not be cross with you always, just as he has been this past week? Very cross, indeed! How would you tolerate it?"

Caroline waved away her sister's concerns. "I am certain that once he becomes accustomed to his circumstances, he will be as amiable as ever. And even if he is not, why, even if he is in a black humour all the day long, I would not have to be constantly by his side. What wife is? I could simply absent myself - is not Pemberley large enough? And think of the advantages, Louisa - would I not have free reign to buy such gowns and jewelry, and new furnishings as I choose? He would never know!"

"Oh, wicked, wicked girl!" scolded Mrs. Hurst, but she laughed, for who among their circle did not have similarly mercenary reasons for marrying? The sisters ordered some tea and settled down to gossip.

In the library, Mr. Hampton sighed. Having finished reading his letter, he had been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was, to all appearances, everything that was delightful in a young lady, and he had not been so intrigued by a woman in a very long time. Certainly, in Town he had not much time to meet those of the gentler sex, and those he had met had not had the combination of gentility, intelligence and kindness that characterized Miss Bennet, nor her robust good looks. It had been a long time, nearly two-and-twenty years, since the day that had taken his dear Matilda from him in childbirth. Since that time he had had flirtations, but he had met no one who had piqued his interest. He was not a young man, but he had much to offer. Miss Bingley had indicated that none of the Bennet girls had any prospects; he wondered if Miss Elizabeth would consider sharing the future he had planned.

Meanwhile, the object of Mr. Hampton's musing was wondering how she could begin a conversation with someone about whom she knew so little as Mr. Darcy, when he took matters into his own hands.

"Do you know, Miss Bennet," Mr. Darcy began, "that when one cannot see, one's other senses are somewhat heightened?"

"I did not know that, Mr. Darcy."

"Indeed. For example, I can tell whether I am being approached by Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst by their fragrance, which before seemed very similar to me." He smiled ruefully. "Especially in quantity!"

Elizabeth laughed. "How interesting!"

"Further, I can hear the clock ticking in the next room, Mr. Hurst snoring in the parlour when I am at the top of the stairs..." he paused, "and the conversation of two people walking a substantial distance in front of me."

Elizabeth coloured. "Sir, I am deeply sorry if we offended you by discussing your situation."

"Do not make yourself uneasy, madam. You merely spoke of things I would have told you myself had you asked. But you, ah, 'would not be so ill-mannered as to enquire.'"

"Mr. Darcy, I would understand perfectly if you would choose at this moment to refuse to walk further with me. I appear to have embarrassed myself thoroughly."

"Not at all. I far prefer a straightforward approach to my infirmity to the overly conscientious actions of some others which I have lately endured."

"Yes, it is very clear that you find Miss Bingley's attentions unwelcome."

"Have I been so obvious?"

"To me, a casual observer, it would appear that she has been rejected with no attempt at civility on your part."

He gestured to his face with frustration and annoyance. "Is not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil?"

"Now, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied with equal pique, "you cannot use your condition as an excuse for ill temper when it suits you, and then ask others to pretend it does not exist."

Silence followed this remark as Elizabeth awaited an answer. Finally, Mr. Darcy said,

"It is so exasperating. You have no idea..."

"Of course I have no idea," Elizabeth interrupted quietly, "but then, neither does she. Does that not in some way justify her behaviour?"

"I suppose she means well." He frowned. "But she treats me like a child!"

How child-like he sounds at this very moment! Elizabeth smiled and said, "Poor Miss Bingley! I now do not know which is worse: to be an object of her derision, or of her admiration!"

Darcy laughed heartily, then drew a sharp breath from the unexpected sting of the exertion on his tender skin. The pain momentarily stopped him from proceeding further.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth asked gently, "Do you wish me to summon Mr. Hampton?"

"No, no, that will not be necessary," he said, gently touching the new skin stretched taut across his cheek. "I have apparently become unused to laughter. I have had little enough to smile about recently." Until now, he added to himself. See how she defends Miss Bingley, even though that woman has treated her very ill! I must discover the truth of her family, for I cannot believe that such a treasure exists in such an environment as Caroline describes.

As they walked on, Elizabeth described in extensive detail the autumnal condition of the gardens, for which Mr. Darcy was exceedingly grateful. And impressed. "It would seem that you have a thorough knowledge of the local flora, Miss Bennet."

"Yes, I spend a great deal of time out-of-doors - my mother would say too much time - and when I see something I cannot identify, I make a point of searching out the information in my father's study."

So she does seek to educate herself! "And what would your mother have you do instead?"

"The usual female pursuits, I suppose: needlework, practicing upon the pianoforte..." Securing a wealthy husband! Elizabeth added to herself.

"And these pursuits do not interest you?"

"Do not mistake me. I have pleasure in many things. However, I much prefer reading."

"And walking."

Elizabeth smiled. Mr. Darcy could not see it, but he could hear it in her voice. "Yes," she said, "and walking."

By this time they had passed an additional half-hour in each other's company, and they agreed it was time to join the others inside. Darcy was feeling quite pleased with himself and his companion, but in giving way to these agreeable thoughts he missed a step in the entry, and Elizabeth's light hold upon his arm being insufficient to support a man of his stature, he fell heavily to the ground.

"Mr. Darcy, are you all right?" Elizabeth cried, as she reached down to render him assistance. "Pray, let me help you..."

As if my blindness were not enough of a degradation! To be upon my hands and knees like an infant in front of this woman! Am I now to be so mortified, emasculated before her eyes? "I want no help of yours," Darcy lashed out in an agony of body and spirit. "I want no one's help!" He pushed aside her hands in harsh rebuff, his humiliation complete. "Leave me!"

As he struggled to regain his feet, Elizabeth ran to fetch Mr. Hampton.

When the physician arrived, Darcy was standing quietly in the entry, his hands clasped behind his back, waiting, for there was nowhere he could go on his own.

"Mr. Darcy, are you well?"

"There is naught injured but my pride, Mr. Hampton - and, I am afraid, whatever amiable acquaintance I may have had with Miss Bennet."

"So I have heard. Now we shall go to your chambers, and I will examine you."

"I now look totally the fool," Darcy grimaced as his doctor guided him upstairs. "Damn! Perhaps I was wrong in attempting to join society again. Perhaps I should resign myself to living out the rest of my life in isolation."

Mr. Hampton snorted in disgust. "What a ridiculous idea! You have made an admirable first attempt, and suffered a setback, and now you are feeling sorry for yourself. It is only natural. But this should not preclude your trying again."

Back in Darcy's chambers, Mr. Hampton discovered nothing more serious than two scraped knees and a bruised palm. "You are ready to return downstairs?"

Darcy shook his head. "There is still the matter of my deplorable behaviour in front of Miss Bennet. How can I face her after such an undignified display?"

The physician was not unsympathetic. There was indeed something about Miss Bennet, a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner, which made one wish to remain on good terms with her. "I see your dilemma. Well, I advise you to talk to her, ask for her pardon; be humble, if you can manage such a thing." He chuckled. "I expect she will be understanding."

"No. I am not ready. Perhaps later."

"Then what will you do now? You cannot stay up here alone, Mr. Darcy; I will not allow it."

"Will you not accompany me to the library? Perhaps you can read me the newspaper."

So the gentlemen proceeded slowly downstairs. To Darcy's relief, there were no further mishaps. Counting first the stairs and then his paces, he realized that he was beginning to become familiar with the path to the library, and hoped that shortly he would no longer need the assistance of his physician or his friend Bingley. And yet, while he would never admit to it, the idea that he could become accustomed to moving about sightless unnerved him. It meant an acceptance of an eventuality that he preferred not to consider.

"Here we are," declared Mr. Hampton. Darcy did not need his doctor to inform him that the library was already occupied, for, to his dismay, upon reaching it he caught the light but unmistakable scent of wildflowers.

"Miss Bennet," Mr. Hampton said with a genuine smile, "I see you are enjoying the solitude of the library. May we join you?"

Elizabeth looked askance at Mr. Darcy, but at a nod from Mr. Hampton, she said,

"Of course. I would welcome the company."

The doctor guided his patient to a chair and bade him sit. He then picked up the newspaper from the table and asked,

"Would it disturb your enjoyment of your book if I read the paper aloud?"

"Not at all. I confess this particular volume I have chosen does not suit me, and I do not intend to continue with it. Please, do proceed."

"Excellent. I thank you. Well, then, Darcy, where shall we begin?"

"I know not where you will begin, Mr. Hampton, but I must begin by offering my apologies to Miss Bennet, for the appalling behaviour I have most recently displayed."

"Mr. Darcy," she said evenly, "it is not necessary, I assure you..."

"Pray, let me finish," Darcy said, more harshly than he intended. He feared that if he were not allowed to say his piece at once, he would surely withdraw completely. "I have not yet become accustomed to my...limitations, Miss Bennet, and I acted in a dreadful bitterness of spirit. It is a poor beginning indeed to our acquaintance," he continued hastily, "and I am truly sorry for it. I hope you will forgive me." There, I have said it. Now let her think of me as she will.

Mr. Hampton bit his lip to contain his amusement. Well, Mr. Darcy, the words were certainly all there, he thought. But your tone was all wrong, and it was so awkwardly done. Still, it will have to do. He looked to Elizabeth with a smile and a shrug.

Elizabeth gazed back in wonder at the physician, one eyebrow raised, not entirely persuaded of Mr. Darcy's contrition. Nevertheless, she realized the effort it must have taken for a man of his standing to tender such a request and guessed it did not happen often.

"Of course, Mr. Darcy. Please think no more upon it."

Relief flooded him. "I thank you. And now, the news from the Continent, if you please, Mr. Hampton. And then any reports from Town as you think would interest me."

So a comfortable hour passed with Mr. Hampton reading the newspaper aloud for Mr. Darcy's benefit. The doctor had an expressive voice, and Elizabeth too enjoyed his recitation. When at last he had concluded to his patient's satisfaction, Elizabeth said,

"Mr. Hampton, I was up to see Jane a short time ago. She was napping, but she was breathing easily, and had no fever, and in all seemed a great deal better. Do you think she might be well enough to join us for a while this afternoon?"

"I do not see why not. I think a little socializing would do wonders for her spirits as well. Let us take our luncheon, and then if she is awake, I will have a servant assist you in helping her downstairs."

So they all enjoyed a leisurely luncheon together, the entire party being in a generally agreeable mood. Mr. Darcy made a conscious effort to be polite to Miss Bingley, who, basking in the glow of his improved disposition, in turn did not tease Elizabeth. Upon finishing their repast, Mr. Hampton, true to his word, called for a maid and instructed her to help Elizabeth bring Jane down to join the others.

While Elizabeth made Jane comfortable on a settee, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst professed long and loudly their pleasure at having their friend once again in their midst. Mr. Darcy, however, was frustrated, for he was having difficulty forming an impression of the newcomer. She had greeted him quietly and properly, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Darcy," but afterward she said very little of consequence while her hostesses took over the conversation. He determined during their brief proximity that she wore a different fragrance from her sister, less floral and more herbal, but beyond that he could ascertain nothing that would make her of such interest to Bingley. Unfortunately, he decided, any further intelligence would have to come from Mr. Hampton, or perhaps from Bingley himself.

Soon after Jane's arrival downstairs, a commotion announced the arrival of Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hurst, returned from shooting. Both had several brace of pheasant and were in a jolly mood, describing with relish the day's hunt. His friends' return, while initially much anticipated, turned out to be a strain on Mr. Darcy. Though he listened politely, Darcy greatly disliked having this reminder of his disability presented to him so aggressively. He was fond of hunting, and the thought that he might never again enjoy this pastime cut him to the quick. And so he retreated once again into irascibility.

When the gentlemen, refreshed, joined the rest of the party, they found Mr. Darcy seated, his arms folded across his chest, his face a mask. His friends were familiar with such an attitude of displeasure. In times past, he might have instead stood with his hands folded behind his back, gazing out the window or into the fireplace. At those times, it usually fell to Mr. Bingley, by far his closest friend, to coax him out of his temper with an easygoing disposition and gentle humour that no one could resist. But today, Mr. Bingley's object was of a feminine nature, and though it had not been his intention to ignore his friend, he almost immediately took a seat across from Jane and joined his sisters in conversation with her.

Mr. Hurst, not normally of a sociable temperament, took the opportunity to corner Mr. Hampton, having as he did some questions regarding a digestive ailment from which he had recently been suffering, one which no doubt would easily be remedied by being more disciplined in his intake of food and drink.

Conversation in the room buzzed about, to the exclusion of Mr. Darcy, and he grew increasingly uncomfortable at his lack of place in it. He could not know that Elizabeth, having already had the pleasure of seeing her sister engaged with Mr. Bingley, was looking upon him with some sympathy - how he would object if he knew this to be the case! - until her delicate scent and the gentle rustle of her gown warned him of her approach. Alarmed at the notion of being caught pouting, he sat up straighter in his chair and arranged his face into a more pleasant aspect.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said amiably, settling into a chair across from him, "I have never had the pleasure of traveling to Derbyshire. Pray tell me, is it much different from Hertfordshire?"

"Indeed it is, Miss Bennet," Darcy began, a genuine smile gracing his countenance. And for the next half-hour he described in great and affectionate detail the splendour of the county in which he was raised. The specificity of Elizabeth's questions made it clear that she was following every word he said with interest, and not merely out of politeness, for he knew her to be interested in the natural world.

"You depict it so beautifully, Mr. Darcy," sighed Elizabeth. "I wish I could see it."

"So do I, Miss Bennet," he replied soberly, and for a moment she had the feeling of having said something dreadfully wrong, as if the very use of the word "see" were proscribed. But this thought was farthest from his mind, for in reality he was thinking how very much he would like to show it all to her, and how the odds of this ever happening seemed stacked heavily against it, whether by the uncertainty of his condition or by the different social circles in which they traveled.

Moments later, Mr. Hampton, free now from his onerous conversation with Mr. Hurst, espied Jane looking tired and wan, and felt it his duty to interrupt the party. "Miss Bennet," said he, "I must beg that you return to your bedchamber. It would not do to exert yourself overmuch so early in your recovery."

To Darcy's disappointment, he could hear Elizabeth rising. He, too, rose. "I will take her back upstairs, Mr. Hampton," she said. "Mr. Darcy, do please excuse me."

Darcy bowed at her departure and felt strangely bereft. Whatever meagre ray of sunshine that had brightened his day had just been extinguished. Having regained Bingley's attention was small consolation.

"Is she not delightful?" Mr. Bingley exclaimed once the two ladies had quit the room. Approaching his friend, he asked, "Darcy, what think you of Miss Bennet?"

"I am hardly in a position to make such a judgment, Bingley," Darcy replied dryly. "We exchanged no more than half a dozen words, and what little I could make out of your conversation informed me not at all as to where her interests lie...or even the extent of her vocabulary for that matter."

Mr. Bingley laughed. "Oh! She is everything charming! And the most beautiful girl I have ever met."

"So you have told me before, but as for that, I can have nothing to say."

"Well, then, you will have to take my word for it! Or, perhaps you can take the word of Mr. Hampton, who has lived longer than either of us, and has no doubt met more ladies than both of us combined. What do you say, Mr. Hampton?"

"Miss Bennet is very lovely indeed."

"Bah, such faint praise! Why, I could not conceive an angel more beautiful."

"Really, Charles," interjected Miss Bingley, "you say such things every time you make the acquaintance of a pretty girl."

"Not like this, Caroline." He sighed. "I could spend my whole life gazing at her."

"Bingley, are you quite sure of what you are about?" asked Mr. Darcy.

"What do you mean?"

"How much time have you actually spent in her presence, besides this evening?"

"Well, I danced with her at the Meryton Assembly, and then we spent a great deal of time in conversation at a soiree at Lucas Lodge, just a few evenings ago."

"And what do you know of this girl, besides her external attributes?"

"She is exceedingly amiable and has the sweetest temper of any lady of my acquaintance."

"I mean, what do you know of her family?"

"Why, they own Longbourn House, an estate not three miles from here."

"And their connections? Where are the estates of their nearest relations?"

Caroline smiled. It was all going quite according to plan; Mr. Darcy would handle this delicate problem for her, and she need have no fear of such a low alliance for her family.

Bingley hesitated. What did Darcy know of Miss Bennet's connections? "She has an uncle who lives in Meryton, and another in London."

"And their estates?"

There was no helping it. He frowned. "Their uncle Philips in Meryton is an attorney, and their uncle Gardiner in London is in trade."

"In Cheapside," added Miss Bingley.

"No, in Gracechurch Street."

"My dear Charles," laughed his sister, "what is the difference? A few blocks one way or the other, nothing more. It is all the same."

"What is your point, Darcy?" asked Bingley, much agitated.

"My point is, Bingley," said Mr. Darcy, "that you must be aware of the differences in your circumstances. Surely you know that she might not suit."

Searching the faces of his companions for an ally, Mr. Bingley decided he had one in Mr. Hampton.

"Sir, you have spent a substantial amount of time with Miss Bennet. Can you not testify as to her suitability?"

"Suitability is a relative thing, Mr. Bingley," the good doctor replied. "I am well aware of the realities of our society, and know that there are many who must - or choose to for whatever their reasons - marry for social standing or wealth. But, on the other hand, for a man such as myself, to give an example, a man who cares nothing for more material considerations, and seeks only an amiable partner of vivacity and wit - well, a man like that would do very well with someone like Miss Bennet."

Mr. Darcy had been nodding his agreement, for Mr. Hampton's words seemed to buttress his own case. But his movement soon slowed to a stop; something in the physician's speech had given him pause. To be sure, in Darcy's own circle, status and fortune determined many a marriage, and he could find no fault with Mr. Hampton's argument. Indeed, he expected as much for his own future. And yet, Darcy noticed what the others apparently did not: Mr. Hampton's requirement, of a young lady "of vivacity and wit," did not actually appear to describe Miss Bennet. Unless it was of a different Miss Bennet that Mr. Hampton spoke. Darcy's breath caught in his throat. Could the gentleman have developed a fondness for Miss Elizabeth?

Well, and what if he had? Though not common, it was not unknown for a widower approaching fifty to make another union with a much younger lady, if both were so inclined. Mr. Hampton was a well-respected practitioner of an esteemed profession, living in a fashionable part of Town, and he had no one to please but himself. Miss Elizabeth appeared to have much to offer him in the way of personality, and perhaps even looks, if not dowry. Further, it would be quite an eligible match for her; if all he was hearing about her family continued to prove true, she could have no expectation of anything more. It was a sound alliance all around. He should wish them joy.

So what could be nagging at him? Why did he feel so unaccountably heavy-hearted?

"So that was Mr. Darcy?" Jane asked.

Elizabeth and her sister had reached Jane's room, and the latter was preparing to return to bed.

"Poor soul. He does appear to be quite a handsome man under all those bandages," she continued. "Or at least he was. How difficult life must be for him now!" She looked slyly at Elizabeth. "But it would appear that he has quite an interest in you, Lizzy."

Laughing, Elizabeth replied, "I am sure you are wrong, Jane. I imagine he was simply grateful for the attention."

"No, you did not see his disappointment when you turned to leave. While I could tell more if I could but see his eyes, I am certain from the turn of his mouth and the bearing of his body that he was not just reluctant to let go a willing listener."

"Utter rubbish! You are far too willing to see attraction where none exists, now that you have an admirer of your own in fair Mr. Bingley."

Jane, now abed, blushed. "Admirer? You go too far! He is only the most pleasant, good-natured gentleman I have ever had the pleasure to meet. But do not change the subject, Lizzy. We were speaking of Mr. Darcy."

Adjusting the blankets on Jane's bed, Elizabeth said, "We will speak more of him later. For now you must rest. If you are a good girl, perhaps Mr. Hampton will permit you to come down this evening after dinner."

And, kissing her sister, Elizabeth quitted the room. She wondered where she should go next. Thinking it likely that Mr. Darcy and Mr. Hampton had returned to the library, she decided to do some needlework in her sitting room until it was time to dress for dinner.

Elizabeth need not have worried. After the thorough interrogation regarding Miss Bennet, her connections, and her dowry, Mr. Bingley, feeling all the necessity of a change of scenery, suggested that the gentlemen play billiards. All agreed to this activity, even Mr. Darcy, who could not participate, for he was loath to pass time alone with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst whilst they were so engaged in savaging their dear friend's family. So the gentlemen all betook themselves to the billiards room, where the action was described by each player for the benefit of Mr. Darcy. They might have saved their breath, however, for - though he appeared to be attentive - Darcy was actually lost in thought, his mind roiling with this new conjecture of his physician's interest in a certain young lady they had both known for all of two days.

Had Mr. Darcy but asked, Mr. Hampton would have been pleased to tell him exactly what his plans were, for, having not a half-hour earlier assured himself of Mr. Darcy's opinions regarding class and pecuniary considerations in marriage, he saw that he had no reason at all to fear that the object of his attentions would be pursued by another, wealthier, and much younger suitor.

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