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than Mr. Bingley.”
    “Am I one of them?”
    “Yes, on most occasions, you show very little.”
    “You say ‘on most occasions.’ I imagine I was less difficult to read today in Meryton.”
    “I believe you are referring to Mr. Wickham. Do you know the gentleman?”
    “Yes. When Wickham was about six years old, both of his parents died, and the steward at Pemberley and his wife adopted him. He is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making many friends here in Meryton, but I would caution you to be wary of anything he says.”
    “With regard to you, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked, puzzled by his ambiguous statement.
    Darcy hesitated, unsure of how much should be said. The previous autumn Wickham had tried to arrange an elopement with Georgiana, and even with the passage of a year’s time, it was a subject that caused his blood to boil.
    “Miss Elizabeth, you have had sufficient time to sketch my character, and since I shall soon depart for London, I shall leave you to judge the truth of any assertions he may make regarding me. I believe I can safely rely on your justice.”
    Lizzy, sensing his distress and not knowing how to respond, changed the conversation and asked if he would be attending the Netherfield ball.
    “I have important business to see to in London, and I am not sure if I will be able to return.”
    “I hope you will, Mr. Darcy, as I owe you a dance.”
    “Which I would very much like to claim, but everything turns on events in London.”

Darcy was sitting with Miss Montford in the parlor of the family’s Mayfair townhouse. They had already discussed the weather and had talked about the families who had returned to London from their country estates, and with all the easy topics got out of the way, Darcy was staring off into the distance, hoping for divine intervention to assist him in finding something else to say.
    “While you were in the country, did you shoot many birds, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Montford asked, and he silently thanked Providence for intervening.
    “Actually, not a one. Mr. Bingley’s time was quite taken up with Miss Jane Bennet, a most agreeable lady and the daughter of a gentleman farmer. Shortly before I left Hertfordshire, he made her an offer of marriage, and she has accepted him. Understandably, he could think of little else.”
    “That is very good news for Mr. Bingley that he is marrying well.”
    Did he hear her correctly? Did she just say that Bingley was marrying well and not the other way around?
    “Knowing Miss Bennet, I agree that Mr. Bingley is marrying well, but considering his fortune, it is also a good match for the lady.”
    “What I meant is that Mr. Bingley is not a gentleman, but will be marrying a gentleman’s daughter.”
    “You don’t consider Mr. Bingley to be a gentleman?”
    This seemed to make Mr. Darcy unhappy, and so she demurred. “Who am I to say who is or who is not a gentleman? I was only basing my opinion on my understanding that his father was in trade.”
    “Have you met his sisters, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst?” If she had, then she would know they were well educated, accomplished, and elegantly attired.
    Miss Montford tilted her head to the side, which was something she did when she was puzzled. “How would I know them, Mr. Darcy, as we do not have the same friends? We may have attended some of the same events, but I have never been introduced to them. Do you think that I might be introduced to them?”
    Darcy could not tell from her tone if she considered that to be a good thing. But surely if they were to marry, she would understand that the family of his closest friend would be invited to their home.
    “Mr. Bingley tells me they will marry around Christmastime,” he said, ignoring her question. “He has a large family, so it will be quite an affair if all can attend the wedding celebration.”
    “How nice for them,” she responded, and then the silence returned for what seemed an eternity. “Shall I play