Here is the latest instalment of my long-term project, to cast and photograph Jane Austen's novel, Pride and Prejudice, using Sylvanian Families. A bit more story this time!
If you missed the earlier parts, I recommend reading Part One first. (I also highly recommend seeking out Austen's original book and reading it - it is great fun!).
Obviously, the words that follow are not my own, although I have heavily abridged the original text. I do hope you enjoy it.
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The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt, who had married a Mr Philips, and also to a milliner’s shop just over the way.
The two youngest of the family, Catherine and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions; their minds were more vacant than their sisters’, and a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours and furnish conversation for the evening. At present, they were well supplied with news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in the neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was the headquarters.
Their visits to Mrs Philips were now productive of the most
interesting intelligence. Every day
added something to their knowledge of the officers’ names and connections. At length they began to know the officers
themselves, and they could talk of nothing else.
After listening one morning to their effusions on this
subject, Mr Bennet coolly observed,
“From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you
must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now
convinced.”
Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with perfect indifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter.
“I am astonished, my dear,” said Mrs Bennet, “that you
should be so ready to think your own children silly. They are all of them very clever. I remember the time when I liked a red coat
myself very well – and indeed so I do still at my heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or
six thousand a year, should want one of my girls, I shall not say nay to him.”
Mr Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited for an answer.
Mrs Bennet’s eyes sparkled with pleasure and she was eagerly calling out, while her daughter read, “Well Jane, who is it from? What does he say? Make haste and tell us.”
“It is from Miss Bingley,” said Jane. “She asks me to dine with her and her sister. The gentlemen are to dine with the officers.”
“Dining out,” said Mrs Bennet, “that is very unlucky.”
“Can I have the carriage?” said Jane.
“No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night.”
Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her mother’s hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before it rained hard.
Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The rain continued all evening without intermission; Jane certainly could not come back.
“This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!” said Mrs Bennet, more than once.
The next morning, however, breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought the following note for Elizabeth:
‘My dearest Lizzy,
I find myself very unwell this morning, which I suppose
is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning
home till I am better. They insist also
on my seeing Mr Jones – but do not be alarmed – excepting a sore throat and
head-ache there is not much the matter with me.
Yours, &c.’
“Well, my dear,” said Mr Bennet, “if your daughter should
have a dangerous fit of illness, if she should die, it would be a comfort to
know that it was all in pursuit of Mr Bingley, and under your orders.”
“Oh! People do not die of little trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays there, it is all very well.”
Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to
her sister, and declared her resolution to walk there.
She set off, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles, finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ancles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.
She was shewn into the breakfast-parlour, where her appearance created but a great deal of surprise.
That she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley, and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt for it.
Her enquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss Bennet had slept ill, and was very feverish and not well enough to leave her room.
Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her immediately, and Jane was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal however to much conversation, and could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude for the kindness she was treated with Elizabeth silently attended her.
The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said that she had caught a violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it, advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts.
The advice was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment.
When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and very unwillingly said so. Jane testified such concern in parting with her, that Miss Bingley was obliged into an invitation for her to remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented.
