On Thursday the nineteenth of March, Elizabeth Bennet, Sir William, and Maria Lucas arrived at Hunsford parsonage in Kent, the new home of her friend Charlotte Collins. The first few days were as expected. Charlotte showed them all around her little home: the gardens, the small orchard, her chicken coop (of which Charlotte was exceedingly proud), the kitchen garden, and, of course, the house. The friends drank tea and caught up, sharing all their news and laughing together.

On Monday, they were invited to take tea at Rosings Park, home of Lady Catherine De Bourgh, personal advisor to Mr. Collins and benefactress of his small living. After bowing deeply and reciting a small monologue on how charming Miss De Bourgh looked and how fine her mother’s dress was, Mr. Collins introduced his new family, Sir William and Maria Lucas, and his distant cousin, who would sadly be without a home when he inherited her father’s estate in Hertfordshire, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Lady Catherine looked them all over and nodded, and directed them each to seats around hers, placed in such a way that she could see everyone with only a tiny turn of her head. After questioning Sir William for a few moments and finding herself bored, she moved on to Elizabeth.

“Miss Bennet, you come from Hertfordshire?” she called in strident tones.

“Yes, ma’am. Near a town called Meryton,” answered Elizabeth.

“You live on your father’s estate?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It is entailed on Mr. Collins. It is fortunate for my rector but quite disconcerting for you,” continued Lady Catherine. “You have no brothers?”

“No, ma’am.”

She tsked. “A pity. Whenever there is an entailment, sons should always be born. Rosings has no such encroachment. Anne will inherit everything.” She smiled at her pale daughter sitting to her left. Anne smiled weakly back and wrapped her shawl more tightly around her shoulders.

Elizabeth only nodded and sipped her tea.

Several minutes went by with nothing heard but the tinkling of china as cups were placed on saucers. The lone bird chirping outside the window seemed uncommonly loud.

“You are the eldest, Miss Bennet?” asked Lady Catherine.

“No, I am the second.”

“And how many of you are there?” she asked with a suspicious look, as if she expected additional Bennet sisters to leap out from behind the tapestry.

“We are five sisters, ma’am,” replied Elizabeth.

“Five!” Lady Catherine clutched her chest as if she couldn’t breathe. “And you only the second?”

“Yes.”

“And you are out.”

“Yes.”

“Is your elder sister married?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Are your younger sisters out?”

“One, ma’am.”

“Well, three daughters out, and none married! Your mother should take you to town for a season. Surely at least one of you could find a husband,” Lady Catherine advised.

“My eldest sister is currently having a season in London,” said Elizabeth.