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“Your aunt is staying,” Mr. Bennet told Elizabeth. “Mary has a list of duties. Kitty has copied it. Lydia has contrived to be absent during both operations.”
“Mama will wish to know how that happened.”
“I shall tell her as soon as I understand it myself.”
Mrs. Bennet had heard enough to turn from Jane.
“Lydia was helping with my bonnet. She was perfectly useful.”
“Then I must retract the accusation,” Elizabeth said. “Though I had not yet made it.”
Her father looked at her over the rim of the cup Charles had given him. She had missed that look: the shared amusement which did not require an explanation offered to the rest of the room.
Sir came in after the tea.
He stopped beside Mr. Bennet’s chair and examined the unfamiliar boots. Mr. Bennet lowered a hand for him to smell.
“This must be the gentleman who borrowed your glove.”
“The very one,” Elizabeth said.
“He has a great deal of neck to accommodate his rank.”
Sir leaned forward, placing his chin upon Mr. Bennet’s knee.
“And very little doubt about the reception due to him.”
“He is generally received better than he deserves,” Mr. Darcy said.
“Then he will be at ease among us.”
Elizabeth laughed. Mr. Darcy’s answering smile warmed her more than it ought to have done when her father could see it so plainly. She turned to Jane and asked whether another cushion was wanted.
The question caused Mrs. Bennet to begin considering cushions in earnest.
“There should be one for her feet, certainly. And another behind her back. Perhaps a larger chair would be better. There is a very good one nearer the fire.”
“I like this one, Mama,” Jane said.
“But there you might put your feet up without being so near the window.”
“I can do so here. Charles brought the stool.”
Mrs. Bennet looked at the stool as though it had only just appeared. “Then move it a little closer to the hearth.”
“That would leave my feet a very long way from me,” Jane replied.
For a moment her mother looked offended. Then Charles laughed, and she allowed herself to laugh, too.
“Very well. You are determined to make a joke of my concern.”
“No, Mama. I am very glad of it. I should only like to keep my chair.”
When Reynolds came to show them their rooms, her mother rose at once. “I should like to put away the things for Jane before they are crushed. And I must have a little hot water. The dust was dreadful, though your father saw no occasion to complain of it.”
“I did not suppose the road would improve if I did,” Mr. Bennet said.
Elizabeth accompanied them upstairs. Reynolds showed the bedchamber and the small sitting room set aside for their use. Mrs. Bennet approved the fire, disliked the position of one bolster, and asked whether another pillow could be found.
