“No,” I said wearily. “The worse it gets, the better reality it is, if you see what I mean.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Thursday, old girl,” interrupted Bradshaw, who’d been staring at his watch, “how’s this for a suggestion? Everyone hides so there’s no book at all.”

“Out of the question!” intoned Mr. Bennet. “I will not hide my family from view and skulk in my own home. No indeed. No matter how silly we may look, we shall be here in the front room when the new book begins.”

“Wait a moment,” I said. “This first section lasts an hour’s reading time, yes?”

Lizzie nodded.

I took the piece of paper with the task written upon it and pulled a pen from my top pocket, put three broad lines through the task and started to write my own. When I had finished, I handed it to Lizzie, who looked at it thoughtfully and then passed it to her father.

“Oh, boo!” said Lydia, crossing her arms and jutting out a lip. “And I did so want to become a bee!”

“I’m going to read this out loud,” announced Mr. Bennet, “since we must all, as a family, agree to undertake this new task—or not. He looked around at everyone, who all nodded their agreement, except Lydia and Kitty, who were poking each other, and Mrs. Bennet, who couldn’t, as she was still “relaxing” in the closet.

“‘First Task. Chapters One to Three,’” he began. “‘Mr. Bennet, of Longbourn House in Meryton, should be encouraged by his wife to visit Mr. Bingley, who has taken up residence at nearby Netherfield Park. Mr. Bingley shall return the visit without meeting the daughters, and a ball must take place. In this ball Mr. Bingley and Jane Bennet are to dance together. Mr. Darcy is also to attend, and he shall be considered rude, proud and aloof by Lizzie and the rest of the family. At the same time, we are to learn much of the Bennet marriage, and their daughters, and their prospects. The reading public can vote on whether Jane and Bingley are to dance a second time. Mrs. Bennet is free to do “her own thing” throughout.’”

Mr. Bennet stopped reading, gave a smile and looked around the room. “Well, my children?”

“It sounds like an excellent task,” said Jane, clapping her hands together. “Lizzie?”

“I confess I cannot fault it.”

“Then it is agreed,” opined Mr. Bennet with a twinkle in his eye. “Truly an audacious plan—and it might just work. How long before we begin?”

“Forty-seven seconds,” answered Bradshaw, consulting his pocketwatch.

“I don’t understand,” said Lydia. “This new task—isn’t that what usually happens?”

“Duh,” replied Kitty, making a face.

“Places, everyone,” said Mr. Bennet, and they all obediently sat in their allotted chairs. “Lizzie, are you ready to narrate?”

“Yes, Father.”