The Bennet have just visited Netherfield and Lydia has named the day of the ball.
Nov 14, 1811
The garish Bennet women finally trundled out of Netherfield’s parlor. Not a moment too soon. Caroline pressed her eyes with thumb and forefinger. They had already overstayed their allotted quarter hour by that much again.
How much trouble had that wrought? What disaster might ensue if they stayed any longer? Pray they not choose to call again.
Had it not been enough to play hostess to two of the Bennet women, the two least offensive to be sure, but still—this latest affront was too much to be borne.
“Charles, a word if you please.” Caroline beckoned him to follow, nodded to Mr. Darcy and strode from the parlor.
She led him to the morning room and shut the door firmly behind them. One, two three, four. She must control her temper. A proper lady did not give voice to the vitriol that bubbled within. That did not mean she would not struggle in the effort. Perhaps if she kept her back to him, hands firmly knotted together that would help.
“Caroline? Caro, are you well? Is there something wrong?” Heavy, booted footfalls approached.
She drew a deep breath and turned very slowly to face him. An open palm stopped his advance. “Is there something wrong? Is that all you can say?”
Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘What is not to your liking now?”
“You do not know? Oh, Charles.” She stalked away. Was he truly that uninformed or did he just take some perverse pleasure in vexing her just because he could?
He pulled a chair from under the table and sat down, bracing elbows on knees. “Pray, just tell me, what have I done?”
“The ball!”
He winced.
He was right, her voice had become more of a shriek. She must master that. It would not do to have the rest of the household hear her use such an unladylike tone.
“Did you not tell me you wished to host a ball once we settled in?” He picked at the tablecloth, refusing to meet her gaze.
“Yes I did.”
“Then pray tell me what is the problem?”
“Problems, brother, problems.” She paced along the windows. If he did not know, how was she to begin?
“Just tell me, do not keep me here like a child to be scolded or I shall leave directly.”
She whirled and took two steps toward him. “Why did you allow that little Bennet chit to choose the date of the ball?”
“Is that all?” He shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“How can you say such a thing?”
“It is only a date. Is not one as good as the next?”
“I am mistress of your house, Charles, you should have given me the task.” She folded her arms across her chest and pulled herself up to her full height.
“Why does it matter? Are you truly so small minded you would begrudge—”
“Did you take note of the date she selected?”
“November twenty-six.”
“What date is it now?”
“November fourteen.”
“Do you not see the problem?”
He pressed his temples. “Just tell me. I have no desire to play guessing games with you.”
“How long have I to plan and execute this ball?”
“A fortnight.”
“Exactly.”
“I still do not see the fuss. You have an entire fortnight to accomplish what you need to do.”
She pulled out a chair and placed it facing his. Five, six, seven, eight. She sat down across from him, knees nearly touching his. Nine, ten.
“When should we send invitations out?” She forced her lips to curve up. It helped moderate her tone.
“I do not know.” He twitched his hands between them. “When ample white soup has been made?”
She covered half her face with her hand, pressing her fingertips into her forehead. “Let me start at another point. What exactly do you think needs to be done to carry off this event we are committed to?”
“Hire a few musicians, invite the neighbors…”
At least he had the good sense to stop talking before he made a complete fool of himself.
“Consider, just for a moment the invitations. To begin with, a proper ball invitation is sent a month, and better six weeks in advance, after having been professionally printed by a copper plate. How long do you think it takes to get invitations printed for an event?”
His eyes widened and jaw dropped. “I…I…I…”
“The best I can hope for now is that the printer will have some sort of general invitations available that require the specific details to be handwritten in. And if those are available, do you have any idea how long it will take to see them all written?”
“I…I can assist…”
“With your handwriting? You must be joking. Bad enough they should not be printed. If you wrote them, who knows what day our guests would arrive!”
“I am sorry…”
“If I leave to consult with the printer this very moment, I would count myself very fortunate to have the task finished by tomorrow evening. So, at very best, the invitations cannot go out less than ten days before the event. Ten days! Can you imagine what the neighbors will say?”
“I had no idea.”
“Clearly. Have you any idea of what else must be done—no—do not bother to answer. I already know you do not.”
He sprang to his feet and took her place pacing in the sunbeam. “What is to be done? Shall I call upon the Bennets and explain?”
“Certainly not. The very notion. I have no doubt Miss Lydia will have told the entire population of Hertfordshire by now. To revoke the invitation or even change the date would be a stain upon our reputation.”
“Surely you exaggerate.”
“Indeed I do not. This ball will be the singular social event of the year. Our standing in this dreary patch of country will be made or broken by the ball. I will not have you ruin it before we have even begun.”
“Then what would you have me do?”
“Open your wallet, close your mouth, ask no questions, and stay out of my way. I have a ball to arrange.”
Charles stared at her and gulped.
“And thank me when it is all over and I have made you and the Netherfield Ball the talk of the county.”
“Yes, Caro.”
He jumped back as she swept out of the room.
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Ugghhh! Caroline. She may have a point but she rides roughshod over her brother…..poor, unmarried, henpecked man. I feel sorry for anyone she marries, unless he rules her with an iron fist. Anyhow, all I can say is very well done. I can picture this so very well.
Author
LOL, Deborah. I actually felt a little sorry for Caroline to tell the truth. To discover you are expected to put on the event of the season and possibly the year, with two weeks to do it, and not to have even been consulted about the date would make me a bit grumpy too! Just the housecleaning alone kind of boggles the mind, or at least my mind as I hate housecleaning!
How clearly you have shown how self-centered Caroline truly is. Not only is she rude and inconsiderate of the general population of Meryton, but now her very own brother (her protector and provider) comes under her wrath. On one side you could say she is a despicable character… but I also think deep-down she is also very insecure and sad and takes it out on anyone who crosses her path.
Author
I think she is very insecurity and she’s livid that she’s been asked to do the nearly impossible. She stands a huge chance of embarrassing herself, perhaps irretrievably and possibly ruining her chances at making a good marriage if the ball goes completely awry. Really Bingley has treated her very badly and inconsiderately. She is rude and prideful to be sure, but I think she also puts up with a great deal from a brother who is flighty and thoughtless. Thanks so much Linda!
Frankly, I have always thought allowing Lydia to goad him into setting the date for the ball was just another example of wishy-washy Bingley’s character (or lack thereof). In this story, I agree completely Caroline and her way of informing him just what he has done to her (and Louisa). Charles Bingley does not think, he acts impulsively, as we are told in canon. Such people never realize their effect on others. He has set her a task that is formidable in the Regency and she has a right to express her displeasure at being placed in such a position. If she does not, Charles will never learn. Lord help Jane when they marry.
Author
LOL, I had something of the same thought about Jane. She’ll have to develop quite a backbone or she will forever be trying to cope with Bingley’s thoughtless impulsive acts. I think you’re right about Bingley and I do think Caroline was justified, even if a little rude. I can’t imagine what it took to accomplish everything in just two weeks–especially without modern conveniences like phones and motor vehicles. Just getting supplies without that would be formidable! Thanks, Kathy!
I agree with your last statement. Even in modern times we expect invitations to formal events to arrive a month ahead of time. And to have to hand print the invitations, even just fill in the name general ones, would take time and effort. Then the modiste (maybe one available in Meryton) has to have time to make all the new ones or the women to make over all the old ones. Charles, Charles, Charles – you can be so taxing at times! He had better learn to look at the woman in charge when someone suggests any type of event, even tea at home tomorrow!
Author
Charles really did step in it, didn’t he? Thanks, Sheila!
MAria!
Great scene. To me you are one of the very few who can write Caroline and make me kinda like her.
To me, this also brought out bingle’s complete absence of awareness. He does live for the moment!
Thanks !!
Author
Thanks, Carol. I take that as an epic level compliment!
Excellent little vignette! I am feeling quite a bit of sympathy for Caroline (never say never, right?). The way that she is trying to count to keep her temper and her awareness of the unflattering pitch of her shriek show a self-awareness that we rarely see in portrayals of her character.
And Bingley is so adorably clueless…although he is not so adorable to Caroline! To ask a 15 year old with no concept of the work that goes into giving a ball to name the date was a blunder of epic proportions for those who will actually have to do the work, namely Caroline and Louisa (but mostly the former).
But Jane will manage Bingley much more adroitly…in such a sweet and unpretentious manner that he may never realize how much she is managing him! 😉
Wonderful story–thank you, Maria Grace!! 🙂
Warmly,
Susanne 🙂
Author
I am glad to have made Caroline a little more sympathetic. The more I thought about it, the more I realized what she pulled off. Thanks, Susanne!
In this scene I am actually in 100% agreement with Caroline. Lydia is a twit. She doesn’t know anything. She is the selfish one here. Bingley is ignorant of what it takes to be a host. This is his first ball. He should have made no promises as to its timing. However, he jumps into the cow patty with both feet. What a mess! Even though Caroline is a class #1 beotch she will drag his a** out of it. Give her credit.
Author
You’re right, Lydia is totally a twit here, but then when I think of it, Mrs. Bennet was also rather horrifying for not stepping in and either stopping it from happening or from overriding Lydia’s ridiculous suggestion. So I guess she was pretty awful ther too. Hadn’t thought about that until just now. Thanks, Julia!
I thought readers might be interested in seeing the delightful original P&P text about the ball’s date and the invitations. It’s not clear that Bingley followed up on his promise to Lydia to let her choose the day of the ball. I wonder if he really did. Here are the relevant bits about the ball & its invitations:
-Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the attentions of the officers, to whom her uncle’s good dinners and her own easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer to this sudden attack was delightful to their mother’s ear —
“I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing while she is ill.”
Lydia declared herself satisfied. “Oh! yes — it would be much better to wait till Jane was well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter would be at Meryton again. And when you have given your ball,” she added, “I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.” – Chapter 9
Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Darcy’s progress through his book, as in reading her own; and she was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her question, and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be amused with her own book, which she had only chosen because it was the second volume of his, she gave a great yawn and said,
“How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.”
No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her book, and cast her eyes round the room in quest of some amusement; when, hearing her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly towards him and said —
“By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure.”
“If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he chuses, before it begins — but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough, I shall send round my cards.”
“I should like balls infinitely better,” she replied, “if they were carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing made the order of the day.”
“Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be near so much like a ball.”
Miss Bingley made no answer, and soon afterwards got up and walked about the room. – Chapter 11
The two young ladies [Jane and Elizabeth] were summoned from the shrubbery, where this conversation passed, by the arrival of some of the very persons of whom they had been speaking: Mr. Bingley and his sisters came to give their personal invitation for the long-expected ball at Netherfield, which was fixed for the following Tuesday. The two ladies were delighted to see their dear friend again — called it an age since they had met, and repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since their separation. To the rest of the family they paid little attention: avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying not much to Elizabeth, and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone again, rising from their seats with an activity which took their brother by surprise, and hurrying off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet’s civilities.
The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every female of the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as given in compliment to her eldest daughter, and was particularly flattered by receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself, instead of a ceremonious card. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the society of her two friends, and the attentions of their brother; and Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing a great deal with Mr. Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Mr. Darcy’s looks and behaviour. The happiness anticipated by Catherine and Lydia depended less on any single event, or any particular person; for though they each, like Elizabeth, meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Wickham, he was by no means the only partner who could satisfy them, and a ball was, at any rate, a ball. And even Mary could assure her family that she had no disinclination for it.– Chapter 17
Of course, Miss Bingley could take her own complaints seriously, and NOT do all the things that must be done in town and which the ‘savages’ of Meryton neither know nor care. Handwritten will do just fine for an affair for four and twenty country families, and a single invitation to the Colonel of the Militia! she and her sister could write them out this very day. It might be different if there were anyone, besides Darcy, whom she cared to impress by having them printed. And it would be easy enough to point out the lack of time to Darcy due to Binglley favoring the Bennet child’s idea!