It was half an hour before dinner time when the two ladies were called away to dress, leaving Eleazar and Jane alone for a blissful moment. It wouldn't be long before he would be called downstairs to join the party.

Many inquiries were made, asking about Jane's wellbeing and saying how bad it was to have a cold. In the end none of them felt very honest, apart from Mr Bingley's. He was more concerned than all and asked him several times what could be done to help Jane.

The two ladies couldn't care less nor did they try very hard to pretend to, Mr Darcy and Mr Hurst on the other hand didn't even try the latter. Sitting at the dining table and ignoring Eleazar's very presence, as if it was soiling their precious meal.

There was no reason to stay after dinner, so Eleazar fled back upstairs to Jane's room, giving the party downstairs ample time to gossip. Their judgement would not be in his favour, there was no reason for him to give them more ammunition.

After quite some time the sisters showed up again in Jane's room, full of remorse after they had vented all their frustrations. Now it was time for them to show their love to their dear friend. They drank a cup of coffee and left soon after that.

Eleazar didn't even think about leaving Jane alone, but when late in the evening he saw his sister sleep did he venture downstairs. Jane would be fine on her own for a moment and he needed to stretch his legs for a moment or he would never be able to stand again, in a true dramatic Mrs Bennet fashion.

In the drawing room had the remaining members of the party gathered. They were playing cards and eagerly invited Eleazar to join them, which he declined. He could play cards, of course he could, but he didn't enjoy it nor did he want to be stuck with the party members for an unpredictable amount of time.

There were no bookcases in the room, but several copies were laid on the table by the housemaids to read. This action gave some pause to Mr Hurst as he could not phantom why anyone would prefer to read over playing cards. The conversation was short and to the point with biting remarks from Miss Bingley.

Eleazar ignored them all and looked through the available copies when Mr Bingley offered to get some more from the library.

"And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever looked into."

It was nice of him to offer, but Eleazar had seen one of his favourite stories lying about and it was unnecessary to fetch more. Le Morte d'Arthur would always be able to entertain him even if Miss Bingley's voice tried its best to catch his attention.

"I am astonished that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr Darcy!"

The not so subtle hint at Mr Darcy was met with sudden silence and an evading eye that looked straight into Eleazar's.

"It ought to be good, it has been the work of many generations."

Though Mr Darcy had answered Miss Bingley's question he had not looked at her for a single second. Excluding from the conversation despite talking directly to her.

"And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books."

Miss Bingley happily continued her monologue, oblivious to the fact that the mister she was trying to appeal to, was not focused on her.

"I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these."

They were words to Eleazar's heart, and if any other person had uttered them he maybe would have dropped down on one knee. But alas it had been Mr Darcy, who did not enjoy his company nor would appreciate someone taking the initiative.

"Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place, Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley."

Eleazar had know, presumed, Mr Darcy to be an avid booklover, but to hear him say those words offhandedly; and in company of his friends who did not enjoy that simple pleasure.

It was that he knew that underneath his pleasant exterior was a cold man, but otherwise he could have been fooled.

Miss Bingley had continued her conversation regarding the beauties of Pemberley with her brother, but was now trying to catch Mr Darcy's attention again with a mention of his sister.

"Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring? Will she be as tall as I am?"

Finally Mr Darcy moved his eyes and faced Miss Bingley who continued speaking.

"How much I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite."

The conversation went off the rails in their discussion of the perfect young lady and her qualities. The words, pleasing to the eye were not said, but were in fact meant with everything they said.

No matter her many accomplishments, and some help of a teacher, Mary would never be called it despite her best efforts. Nor Lydia and Kitty would be much regarded in that matter. Not that they tried, but it would have been nice.

Jane was the only one who had a chance, good looking and a not outspoken character. She was the perfect embodiment of what a gentleman was looking for in a wife.

He didn't stay long after that, the present company wasn't worth the pain of hearing his family insulted.

When he arrived in Jane's room he saw her sleeping restlessly, with a sheen of sweat on her face. The fever was running its course and her condition had worsened during the short moment he had spent downstairs.

It was quickly decided that Mr Jones would be called for in the morning if Jane hadn't improved during the night. Mr Bingley was greatly distressed and so were his sisters. And though he showed his own by providing anything that could maybe help Jane, did they lament about it during supper and sang a few duets after to give solace to their hearts.