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The next morning brought a surprise: the arrival of a courier from London bearing a large parcel from their Uncle Gardiner. Mr Gardiner was Mrs Bennet’s brother, though he was far superior to her in character and education. His occupation was in trade and he resided in Cheapside, an area of London which gave him the advantage of close proximity to his warehouses. He and his wife were a great favourite with the Bennet girls, particularly the two eldest sisters, and Jane and Elizabeth had spent many a happy visit at the Gardiners’ home in Gracechurch Street.
Mr Gardiner frequently sent little gifts to his nieces at Longbourn—the natural result of receiving a variety of interesting goods and items in the course of his business. Thus, the arrival of the package itself was not entirely novel, but the contents certainly invited surprise and admiration, for it consisted of objects the like of which they had never seen before. Mr Gardiner had recently begun trade with the Orient and he had sent his nieces a collection of items selected from his most recently arrived cargo. The parcel contained ornaments and trinkets decorated in the Oriental style, and in an accompanying letter, he explained that the fashion for chinoiserie was all the rage on the Continent. He felt sure that the fashion would arrive in England soon; therefore, he was providing his nieces with an early glimpse of this exotic new style.
The girls unwrapped the gifts whilst their mother watched and everyone exclaimed over the beauty of the items revealed. Jane had received an elegant bamboo fan, painted with a scene of Chinese ladies promenading about a garden. The fan released the most fragrant scent upon opening and the pleasing perfume continued to waft about with each flutter. Elizabeth’s gift was a black lacquered letter holder, with several compartments for different papers and missives. Their uncle explained in the letter that—knowing of her fondness for reading and writing—he had felt this a most fitting gift for her. Elizabeth agreed wholeheartedly and ran her hand admiringly over its curved edges. The sides were intricately carved and accented with gold paint upon the black lacquer and the scene on the front panel featured Oriental goldfish swimming within a lily pond.
Kitty and Lydia eagerly tore the paper from their gifts and held them up for all to view. Kitty’s gift was a comb made of black ebony, the handle of which was carved to look like a peacock. A jewel sparkled in the eye of the peacock and glossy enamel was painted over its body. Lydia had received a matching mirror, the back of which depicted a scene painted in enamel, showing the peacock next to a waterfall. The mirror was unusual in being perfectly round—unlike the hand mirrors used in their bedrooms—and the polished glass showed a reflection far superior to any that they had seen before.
Mary was the last to open her gift, for it was the largest. Everybody stared in wonder as she unwrapped a beautiful music box in red lacquer, with black trimmings. The top of the music box was carved to depict a pattern of tiny dainty flowers blooming on elegant branches.
“What kind of flower is that?” asked Kitty.
“I do not know,” said Jane. “It has a likeness to the cherry blossom, yet is a little different.”
Lydia leaned forwards impatiently. “Open the box, Mary! Let us have a look inside.”
Mary reached for the lid of the box, but did not hurry. She was enjoying the unusual sensation of being the centre of attention. As the plainest sister in the family, she had always struggled for admiration and recognition—and normally relied on her numerous extracts based on her lengthy reading, or her ability to provide musical entertainment, to gain interest from other members of her family. Thus, she now cherished the unexpected position of commanding all attention. It was kind of her uncle to have given her, the most ignored sister, the greatest gift.
Slowly, she undid the clasp and lifted the lid of the box. Everyone gasped. The underside of the lid displayed a mirror and the interior of the box itself was lined with red velvet. Mounted on a small dais in front of the mirror was a tiny figure. Closer inspection showed that it was an Oriental lady, dressed in flowing robes. As the tinkling music began to play, she twirled in unison, her movements graceful and dainty.
“She moves!” cried Mary in disbelief. “I have not seen such a music box before.”
“It is delightful!” said Jane.
“Yes, what a wondrous gift to receive,” said Elizabeth. “I am quite jealous, Mary.”
Mary smiled happily. She stroked the smooth sides of the music box. “I must write and thank my uncle for his generosity,” she said.
“Indeed, you all must,” said Mrs Bennet. “Is he not the best uncle to you girls?”
“There is a section in his letter here to you, Mary,” said Jane, picking up their uncle’s letter again. She read out loud from the missive:
“For my niece, Mary, because I know of her fondness for music, I have chosen this music box which was presented to me by the captain of my latest ship to return from the Orient. I hope you will find it to your liking. However, I must warn you that there is a curious story attached to this box. My captain informs me that it once belonged to a famous member of Japanese nobility and that it has been marked with the Sakura curse—”
“A curse!” interrupted Lydia. “What are the particulars of this curse?”
“My uncle does not say,” said Jane. She resumed reading the letter:
“—I do not know the details of this curse and my captain was unable to enlighten me. No doubt, it is no more than some fanciful imaginings, perhaps invented to give the box a more interesting history. I know you are a sensible girl, Mary, and not given to such histrionics—therefore I feel it is safe to make you a gift of this box, without fear of you being distressed by its reputation.”
“The Sakura curse...” murmured Elizabeth. “Oh, I wish our uncle had more details of this jinx. I’m excessively curious.”
“Well, I shall not let it bother me,” said Mary firmly. “As my uncle says, it is likely just some idle gossip. I am sure the pleasures of ownership from such a delightful ornament far exceed its potential risks.”
Lydia shook her head, making her curls bounce around. “Oh, but Mary—”
At that moment, they were interrupted by the appearance of Hill the housekeeper in the parlour, announcing the arrival of two visitors: Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy.
“Mr Bingley!” said Mrs Bennet excitedly. She threw Jane a triumphant look. “He could not stay away from you, my dear Jane. It has been barely three days since you quit Netherfield Park and already he has come to see you.”
Jane flushed a very pretty pink and hurriedly adjusted her gown. The rest of the girls had barely time to clear away the debris from the parcel before the gentlemen entered the room, followed by Mr Bennet with Mr Collins.
Bingley came in with his usual merry countenance, his eyes instantly going to Jane. Behind him stood his taciturn friend, Mr Darcy. Tall, dark, and brooding, it seemed to Elizabeth that Darcy dominated the room the minute he entered. He did not speak a word, however, and gave no greeting, save for the briefest of bows to Mrs Bennet.
“Mr Bingley! We are delighted to see you!” said Mrs Bennet. She glanced at his friend and gave a disdainful sniff. “And I suppose your friend is welcome too.”
Elizabeth flushed at her mother’s rudeness. She knew that Mr Darcy’s manners were often haughty and reserved, but her mother’s behaviour was fast surpassing his in discourtesy.
“I have come to invite you all to my ball,” said Bingley.
“Oh! The ball!” cried Lydia in tones of great delight.
“Sir, you do us a great honour by coming to give us a personal invitation,” said Mrs Bennet with a wide smile.
Bingley glanced at Mr Collins curiously. “And your guest is very welcome as well, of course.”
“This is our cousin, Mr Collins.” Mrs Bennet hurried to introduce him to the gentlemen. “He is staying with us for the week.”
“Sir, I am exceedingly gratified by your invitation,” said Mr Collins, bowing low. “Indeed, I am honoured to be treated with such condescension. It brings me to mind of my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who has always spoken to me as she would to any other gentleman and makes not the smallest objection to my joining in the society of the neighbourhood at Rosings. I have never met with so much attention in the whole course of my life—and your invitation now mirrors that gracious lady’s attitude. To be invited by a man of your character and mingle in the society of such respectable people as can be of your acquaintance is of the highest order of affability!”
Bingley looked slightly overwhelmed by such verbose thanks, but cheerfully accepted the compliments. He then gave the date for the ball and informed them that they would need to make some special preparations.
“It is to be a masquerade!” he said. He smiled at Lydia. “I had not forgotten your request when we spoke at Netherfield, Miss Lydia. As it happens, Darcy’s aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, mentioned in her latest letter that she recently attended a masked ball in London. It appears that they are indeed all the rage—”
“Sir!” Mr Collins pushed himself past others to stand before Darcy. “Am I to understand that you are the nephew of my honourable patroness? I must beg you to forgive me for being ignorant of this when we met on the road yesterday! I am most thankful that the discovery has been made in time for me to pay my respects properly now. Please—I entreat your pardon for not having done so earlier. I am pleased that it is in my power to assure you that her ladyship was quite well when I last saw her less than a se’ennight ago...”
Darcy stared at him in cold surprise and listened with growing impatience as Mr Collins continued to ramble on about her ladyship. Elizabeth squirmed with embarrassment at her cousin’s vexing behaviour. When Mr Collins finally paused to draw breath—and before he could start speaking again—she quickly turned to Bingley and asked the latter what his costume was to be.
“Upon my word, I have not decided yet,” said Bingley with a laugh. “I shall probably leave it until the last moment and then decide in a thrice. I confess, whatever I do is always done in a hurry.”
“Spontaneity is not necessarily inferior to advance planning,” said Elizabeth with a smile.
“Well, I shall look forward to seeing your disguises,” said Bingley. “My sisters are already busy contemplating their costumes.”
“Does one have to come in costume?” said Mr Bennet with some alarm. “I confess, I am not of the mind to don a disguise.”
Bingley made him a bow. “The choice is up to you, sir. I imagine that most shall enter into the spirit of the event and enjoy the chance to take on the guise of another. However, should you choose not to, you are merely required to don a simple mask. I shall be making a good number of those available for guests to use when they arrive. Indeed, you cannot be worse than Darcy here—” he inclined his head towards his friend with an exasperated laugh, “—who behaves as if it would be a punishment rather than a pleasure to even dance at a ball, the costume notwithstanding.”
Darcy did not respond to his friend’s teasing, though Elizabeth fancied that she could discern a faint line of colour along his cheeks. For some reason, she felt a flicker of sympathy for him. She knew him to be an aloof, critical man and yet she did wonder if his general social diffidence stemmed more from a natural reserve of character which left him ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers. His gaze met hers suddenly across the room and Elizabeth dropped her own eyes hastily, lest he read her thoughts.
“You should go to the ball as an Oriental princess,” said Lydia to Jane. “Then you may take your new fan!”
This remark naturally invited curiosity on Bingley’s part and they were obliged to explain about the arrival of the parcel from London. Indeed, the younger sisters were keen to show Bingley their gifts and Mary, in particular—remembering the pleasing attention she had garnered from her own family—was anxious to demonstrate the wonders of her music box.
“How utterly charming!” exclaimed Bingley, eyeing the box with admiration as the music played and the tiny figure inside twirled in accompaniment. “I am sure my sister, Caroline, should dearly love to see such an unusual ornament. Perhaps you would not mind bringing it to the ball and delighting the other guests with your gift?”
Mary beamed and responded that nothing would give her greater pleasure. The gentleman sat for a while longer, then stood up to take their leave. Mr Darcy had still not spoken a word the entire time and Elizabeth looked at him in puzzlement. She had caught his dark eyes on her more than once, but to her answering look, he had always shifted his gaze away. It was impossible to determine what he was thinking from his countenance. His handsome features were remote, the expression in his eyes shuttered.
Now that she knew of his general abhorrence for dancing, she was able to think more charitably of his behaviour at the Meryton assembly. Perhaps his refusal to ask for her hand had been more due to a dislike of the amusement in general than a specific insult directed at her person. This theory seemed to be proven when the Longbourn residents walked out to the front portico to see the gentlemen off and she found herself and Darcy amongst the last to leave the parlour. The rest of the party had gone ahead and they were alone for a moment. She was surprised when he turned to her and said quietly:
“I hope you may do me the honour of standing up with me for a dance at the forthcoming ball, Miss Bennet.”
She looked at him in astonishment. “But... sir, did Mr Bingley not just declare that you detest the activity in general?”
He gave a slight smile. “I own that it is not my favourite pursuit and there are few women with whom it would not be a punishment for me to stand up with. You are one of them.”
She was rendered speechless. Finally, she gathered her thoughts and thanked him, promising to save two dances for him. With that, he bowed and went to join his friend in mounting their horses. Elizabeth stood with her sisters and watched them ride away. She knew not what to think of Darcy’s invitation. To have behaved so cold and distant... and then this! He had paid her a great compliment by soliciting her hand for dancing—and yet what could he mean by it? Though they had had moments of unexpected intimacy during her stay at Netherfield Park—she blushed even now to think of it—she could not really believe that she could have engaged Darcy’s affections. She longed to confide in Jane and hear her sister’s reactions, but for some reason she found herself reluctant to speak on the subject.
The gentlemen had not long gone when everyone’s attention was caught by a new drama. Elizabeth hurried with her mother and sisters to the servants’ quarters where Sarah the maid had taken ill violently and unexpectedly. No one could fathom the reason for her sudden sickness. She was found in agony by Hill and transported to her bed, whereupon she lay in the grip of a raging fever. The apothecary was sent for, but he could provide no further clues. Lydia gave a dark look and began suggesting the Sakura curse from Mary’s music box as the possible culprit, but her speculations were quickly cut short by her older sisters, for fear of frightening the servants unnecessarily.
They made Sarah as comfortable as they could and, after a period of bloodletting, she fell at last into a restless sleep. Puzzled and disturbed, the family returned to their side of the house and attempted to return to their usual routines. They spent the rest of the day and evening in quiet pursuit of their normal activities. More than once, however, Elizabeth found herself recalling the exchange with Mr Darcy and wondering at the expression in his dark eyes.
