Pride & Prejudice, ch. 54: Dinner At Half-Past Four In The Afternoon

Credit to Luz Tapia for the '95-inspired art.

So it turns out that no, Jane and Bingley’s path to happiness can’t happen just like that. As much as Mrs. Bennet (and, let’s face it, the rest of us) might want to speed through the process of getting them together, these things are delicate. Jane isn’t in the head space to make a beeline to Bingley’s side and flutter her eyelashes at him until he’s a puddle on the floor. After all, if she were to do just that, then she wouldn’t be our Jane, now would she?

That said, even a distracted Lizzy can take time out from her Darcy-fueled frustration to all but state the obvious: “I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with you as ever,” she tells Jane. However, Jane is playing it cool in the hopes that “[i]t will then be publicly seen that, on both sides, we meet only as common and indifferent acquaintance.” Her emphasis on how her acquaintance with Bingley is perceived appears to be a front, but then again, if I were in her position, I’d be half-dreading the Meryton rumor mill myself. On another level, she kind of should “dread other people’s remarks” … it was the remarks of Darcy and the Bingley sisters that screwed things up for Jingley before. (Not that she knows this, but honestly, I think her instincts are at least in the right ballpark.)

But during the big to-do at Longbourn, all it takes from Jane is one smile for Bingley to sit right next to her. Lizzy notes that Bingley appears to have glanced at Darcy “with an expression of half-laughing alarm” before doing so, implying that a) Darcy and Bingley have spoken about Jane and/or b) Bingley cares about Darcy’s opinion. This is in keeping with Bingley’s philosophy on friendship, if you’ll recall. Also, I can’t quite tell if the person who’s doing the “half-laughing” is Bingley or Lizzy, and honestly I hope it’s both of them. The characters in this book need to find more to laugh about.

Unfortunately, Lizzy is in her own personal hell. Not only can she not get a bead on Darcy’s current feelings about her, but throughout the meal, he is stuck next to Mrs. Bennet. Who was in charge of the seating arrangements, anyway? It’s not like Darcy wanted to end up next to Mrs. Bennet. Even Lizzy can tell how “cold and formal” he is to her mom, despite sitting several seats away and not being able to hear anything … 

Wait a minute. Could this have been intentional on Darcy’s part? Let’s look at this objectively. We know that Darcy is still into Lizzy—he says as much at the end. And instead of complaining about him, Mrs. Bennet reports that he complimented her on the partridges. So … is it possible that he planned to behave more agreeably to Mrs. Bennet than last time? This would imply that he was also planning on having a discussion with Lizzy, which he makes at least one attempt to have when Lizzy is pouring coffee. I’m like 75% serious. Maybe Darcy was trying to avoid Lizzy (after all, a party is not always the best place to steal a private moment), found himself next to her mom, and simply decided to make the best of an annoying situation. In any case, it shows that he can be less of a snob if he puts in the effort.

Meanwhile, Lizzy’s frantically re-setting the goalposts as she tries to decipher every move Darcy makes (along with the ones he doesn’t). “If he does not come to me, then,” she affirms once the men file into the drawing room after dinner, ”I shall give him up for ever.” He does not, and spoiler, she does not. The female guests are unhelpfully rooster-blocking the two of them like it’s a damn 90s sit-com and Lizzy herself finds the Darcy-less part of the evening so “wearisome and dull” that it “almost [makes] her uncivil.”

The narrator dryly notes that, as they are sitting tables apart for card games, “his eyes were so often turned towards her side of the room, as to make him play as unsuccessfully as herself.” Other than serving to tease the reader about Darcy’s true feelings, this observation puts the two characters on, no pun intended, a level playing field. Both are at an impasse here; both are constrained by the setting—intimate as it is, it’s still not enough for their purposes, as it demands a degree of formality. 

No word on how Mr. Bennet fares throughout the evening. I wonder if he called in sick? For that matter, Kitty and Mary garner no mention. It appears that no one from the Bennet side did anything embarrassing, making this dinner a low-key subversion of the Netherfield ball. 

Anyway, after the evening is over and Mrs. Bennet revels in the positive gossip about Jane and Bingley (Meryton, you just couldn’t wait, could you?), Lizzy ribs Jane about her romantic prospects. Jane, frazzled and perhaps a little exasperated, questions her sister, “[W]hy should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I acknowledge?” A sharper question could not be asked in this moment: Lizzy, who cannot admit her own feelings out loud, wants none of Jane’s professed “indifference.” She wants to believe that love is real for someone.

Chapter the next: Jane and Bingley will be registered at only the best warehouses, thank you.