“Mind you, my dear, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and then. It is something to think of and gives her a sort of distinction amongst her companions,” Mr. Bennet teased as he fiddled with his gold pocket-watch. The middle-aged, silver-haired patriarch was far less inclined to fret over his eldest daughter’s sufferings as vigorously as did the women of Longbourn Village. For goodness sake, they were some of the silliest creatures in all of England! This latest calamity—marked by the lack of spirit shown by his first-born daughter Jane, the refusal on her part to take her meals with the family, and the general disregard of all that once mattered to her—had gone on long enough.
“I dare say Jane is more than a little crossed,” said Mrs. Bennet, her annoyance obvious. “Why, the way Mr. Bingley and his party fled Netherfield Park on the heels of what I was sure would be a proposal of marriage to the poor girl, has rendered her a laughing stock in the neighbourhood.
“I can imagine their jeers. ‘There goes poor Miss Bennet, with all her beauty, yet abandoned ... practically left waiting at the altar for Mr. Bingley.’
“Oh, how shall she show her face again? I am afraid the dear girl is destined to a life of spinsterhood ... despite my good efforts to find a husband for her.”
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish