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"Sometimes, it is best that one sees the road before embarking on a journey to the unknown," Colonel Forster was saying while chewing around a mouthful of salmon.
The entire dinner table of soldiers, Charles Bingley, Fitzwilliam Darcy and Mr. Hurst murmured their agreement to the sentiment expressed so wittily; well, all with the exception of Mr. Bingley. Charles Bingley was preoccupied with watching the colonel with the fascination of an ardent admirer. Anyone of the occupants on the large table who deigned to glance in his general direction would notice the attention he fixed upon the colonel; so intent was he on his study of the man. What such observer would fail to recognize was that it was hardly the colonel's uniform, ridiculously bent moustache or even the intelligent words that fell off the man's crooked lips that caused this rapt attention from Charles Bingley. Rather, it was the fact that to Bingley, Colonel Forster was achieving a feat he hitherto had thought impossible through his eating habit. Before, Bingley could never imagine that conversation could be made around a mouthful of food, but the colonel had just demonstrated that it was something of a possibility.
Watching the colonel talk around his food without choking was perhaps the most interesting thing Charles Bingley had done the entire afternoon. Unlike his friend, Darcy, who seemed to have genuine interest in the happenings around the states; and his in-law, Mr. Hurst, who was replete with so much food that he could only nod and murmur in consent to everything under discourse, Bingley saw no reason to muster up false interest in the conversation flowing about the table which centred majorly on wars around the globe and the unrest in Great Britain. He doubted if any of the gentlemen noticed the rain falling outside.
He would rather endeavour to imitate the colonel's habit, and thus, see for himself how possible the feat was. Scarcely had he shoved a rather large morsel of bacon into his mouth when the officer seated next to Darcy on his right side addressed him.
"It seemed you do not have a fancy for the militia," the man observed.
He was Mr. Denny—Norman Denny. From all intelligence that Charles had gathered seated silently on the table as he had all evening, he was content to see that the officers were content to sit on the table and converse about wars and unrest while leaving him aside to observe them. Charles did not mind the exclusion in the least and thereupon, mildly wondered what it was that shifted the officer's attention to himself. Perhaps, he wondered, it was the large bacon even now sticking on his lips. Hurriedly, he drew the hanging bacon into his mouth and made to reply to the question addressed to him- and promptly choked. After several slaps on the back, as administered by Darcy and two full cups of water, he was revived to his healthy self with a decision in mind- the feat of making conversation with a mouthful of bacon was achievable, but only for the likes of Colonel Forster.
Most fortunately, the subject of his disinterest in the conversation around the table was forgotten by his little table 'accident' and when it was over, Mr. Denny did not reiterate his question. In fact, he was now talking about repairing to London during the approaching weekend for a few days before returning to Meryton.
"And the purpose of your visit- if you wouldn't think me too rude to ask?" Darcy asked the man. "I thought officers were not at liberty to leave their base at will."
Bingley thought it quite curious that his friend had interest in such matter as the travels of a military officer, but the man took no offense in his reply.
"You are right Mr. Darcy; but the truth is that I have been summoned and thus the reason. The note impressed upon us the potential addition of a new commission to our corps and I am saddled with the responsibility of escorting him down here along with some other such small tasks in town."
Darcy nodded his head as if he had just received uncommon intelligence and proceeded to visit the meal in front of him which he had barely touched all evening.
The end of the meal was vast relief for Bingley; fortunately the rain had stopped and he was of the first to jump up in his seat and express how time had flown in the company of such fine men. This was not said in mockery or irony; far from it. Bingley meant his every word because through the discourse, he had learnt such small things from his quiet observations that he was certain he would not encounter elsewhere save during dinner with officers of a military regiment. Unlike Darcy who enjoyed the company of the men based on the discourse, and Mr. Hurst who enjoyed only the food immensely, Bingley enjoyed the evening only based on his removed observations. The officers were not excluded from becoming affected with words of praise and beamed at Bingley for calling them 'fine gentlemen'. His sincerity was seen in his eyes and felt in his handshake and everyone concluded that it was indeed an evening well spent in the best of company.
Mr. Hurst promptly fell asleep as soon as they were settled into the chaise.
In the chaise and on the ride back to Netherfield, Darcy mentioned his observation that Bingley was studying the officers rather than partake in the discussion. He then entreated that his friend render to him an account of the different personalities of the officers that he was able to gain intelligence thereof. Bingley obliged most willingly- taking it upon himself to regale Darcy with his observations in the process of dining with the 'fine gentlemen' officers.
"While Colonel Forster seems a strong solid man of repute, I would rather say that he is too rigid in his opinions- he cannot be easily persuaded on a matter, I am afraid."
Darcy nodded, the colonel's staunchness was commendable but he was inclined to be unbendable in so many a matters like in his opinion that Great Britain move forward to demolish all French army.
"As for Officer Denny, he is quite young- twenty and three, I would say; but his strength of character is admirable." Bingley continued, "That one is as plain as paper and I daresay that he can be loyal to boot for a cause he deems worthy."
And so did the analysis of the militia characters engage the attention of the two gentlemen as they rode on to Netherfield while Mr. Hurst slept on. The road was rough and their chaise fell into a puddle a number of times, but they both were scarcely aware, so engrossed were they. Mr. Hurst also did not awaken, indeed his snores increased with each shake of the carriage. Upon entering into Netherfield, Bingley was immediately set upon by his sisters while Mr. Hurst immediately sought his bed in a drowsy manner. As a consequence of the rain and cold in the air, Bingley expected that his sisters would be in bed; Caroline especially detested being up on a rainy night, but they obviously had been waiting for him.
"Miss Bennet is here- I invited her to visit and I am afraid that she has caught a terrible cold while riding here on horseback," Caroline informed him immediately.
For a moment, Charles could not fathom what she spoke: "Jane?" he asked stupidly.
"Of course, Charles; how could you ask?" Caroline cried. "Which other Miss Bennet did you think I would invite? Jane is the only agreeable one of the lot!"
"Keep your vice down, Caroline, she might hear you," Mrs. Hurst whispered.
Charles ignored the drama and asked, "She caught a cold, you say? Where is she then?"
"Above stairs in the room next to mine- lucky thing it was not too dirty; I had it dusted out immediately upon her arrival seeing her in that sorry state," Mrs. Hurst declared proudly.
Bingley was already bounding up the stairs with Darcy on his tail, leaving the women no other alternative but to follow. He hoped that her situation was not bad; he would hate to see such fine woman laid down on a case of illness.
They saw Jane Bennet sitting up in bed, reading a book.
"I had no idea that you were awake," Caroline cried, flushing guiltily as she shared a look with her sister.
"I roused but a few moments ago and found that sleep eluded me. Thinking you must all be in bed thereat, I sought the solace of a book to lull me back to sleep," Jane explained.
"And the cold?" Bingley asked, gazing upon her face in sympathy and tenderness.
"Gone, thank you for your kindness," Jane smiled warmly, "and you too- Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst; I wouldn't have such speedy recovery save your kindly care."
"Make no mention of it," said Caroline.
"Would you like some food or perhaps, broth?" Mrs. Hurst inquired.
"No, nothing at all," Miss Bennet murmured with a little reticence in her voice.
"I think that Miss Bennet is overwhelmed by our profuse attention," Darcy commented drily, having been observing the lady lying down in the bed in layers of cloth and a wrapper closely wrapped around her form. "Since she declares her cold gone, I believe we should retire and let the book lull her back to sleep as she originally planned."
Miss Bennet smiled gratefully at him as they all took to his advice and left the room, each thinking different thoughts as they did. Miss Bingley was thinking what wonderful people they really all were upon this further acquaintance; she had also seen the worry in Mr. Bingley's eyes for her and inwardly delighted in what it may represent. The Bingley sisters were glad that the day was finally over and they could seek their beds. Darcy's mind was back to the intelligence he had gathered from his dining with the officers. Bingley was thinking that he had never beheld a lady more handsome than Miss Bennet; she looked particularly pretty with her hair let down her back and her eyes calm from sleep.
In another half an hour, the entire house was as quiet as a graveyard.
Jane Bennet felt worse for wear in the next morning. Her throat ached, her eyes burned and her nose was running something fierce. Worst of all, was the fever that ravaged her body. Mr. Bingley was the first to check on her as soon as he arose from bed and she beseeched upon his kindness to summon the ladies to attend to her. She made no mention of her predicament to him but one look at her flushed face informed him of her state and he made haste to send a servant to call on Mr. Jones, the local apothecary, as soon as he dispatched Caroline to Miss Bennet's bedside. He then went to inform Miss Bennet that she would be unable to leave for Longbourn until the apothecary arrived, attended to her and deemed her fit to travel.
With weak hands, Miss Jane Bennet wrote a note to her sister, Elizabeth, to inform her of the deterioration in her health status, lest they worried when she failed to reach home. Caroline Bingley received the note from her and remitted it to a servant to deliver to Longbourn with alacrity. Then, she had the cook make broth for Miss Bennet and attended to her till Mr. Jones made an appearance.