Section I, Next Section

Chapter One

t is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. It is also a truth (acknowledged, though perhaps not so universally) that a young musician in possession of a lot of talent and ability, must be in want of connections.

"Calvin! Calvin!" Frances Bennet's high-pitched voice echoed throughout the halls. "Oh, Calvin, where are you?"

Calvin Bennet sat in the living room/kitchenette, his eyes focused on the laptop in front of him. He made no reply to his wife's calls, only smiled slightly at his daughters. "She'll find me," he murmured.

Sure enough, Frances soon entered the room. "Oh," she gasped, "Thank God! I was afraid you'd all left the place already."

"Mom, what's the matter?" Jenna Bennet helped her mother off with her coat. "What's going on?"

"The most marvelous thing in the whole entire world!" she replied, collapsing into a large armchair. "Guess who's coming to the festival this year!"

Liz Bennet decided to humor her poor mother. "Who?"

"The Netherfield Trio!" Fran's face quivered with excitement, and she looked around the room for reactions from her husband and five daughters.

"The Netherfield Trio..." It was Livia who spoke this time. "Isn't that the British group with --"

"Only F. William D'Arcy, one of the top violinists in this country and Europe! Charlie Bingley too, a great cellist, and his sister Louise, the pianist. Plus, Carolyn Bingley is of course coming, since she usually travels with her brother and sister. You must know of Carolyn Bingley -- the famous opera soprano?!"

"Yes, of course we know of her, Mom," said Jenna soothingly, handing her mother a glass of water and an Advil. "But why would they come here?"

"Well, I could hardly believe my ears when I heard it." Fran eagerly accepted the glass and pill. "They all have incredible solo careers, you know, but it seems they want to do more chamber music. Especially Charlie Bingley. He's the one who called up, just last night, and asked if it was too late to sign up for a spot on the program. William Lucas talked to him himself! Imagine, the Netherfield Trio! What a fine thing for you girls."

"How so?" Calvin Bennet finally decided to chime in. "How can it affect them? They're not looking for any replacements, are they?"

"Oh, Calvin, don't be such an idiot! Of course they're not looking for replacements. But they'll hear the girls play one way or another, and then they're bound to think one is right for stardom. Knowing some top-notch musicians never hurts a career, you know!"

She looked fondly on the five girls in the room. Liz and Livia both played the violin, Katie the viola, and Jenna the cello. Together, they formed the Longbourn Quartet. (Mary, the other daughter, played the piano and sang, although she had never quite reached her sisters' level of expertise.) Each year, the Bennet family would travel up to the Hertfordborough Summer Chamber Music Festival. It was run by William and Lonna Lucas, and was comprised of mostly young, talented musicians. There were many recitals, concerts, and master classes held. It was a good chance to get to know different people and look out for prospective teachers, job offers, and agents.

"So," Fran continued, still on the subject of the prestigious Netherfield Trio, "if we're going to get to know them well, you, Calvin, have got to visit them."

"Visit them?" He sounded incredulous.

"Yes, of course, visit them! They're flying in tomorrow afternoon. If you're at the hotel by three, you can catch them on the way up to their rooms."

"I see no cause for that. They're sure to be at the opening house party on Friday."

"Yes, yes." Fran was irritated by her husband's thick-headedness. "But if you meet them before that, then at the house party, they'll single us out, and the girls will have a better chance of getting to know them, and then who knows what will happen from there!"

"Oh, what a clever plan!" Livia squealed. She received warning glances from two of her older sisters.

"I certainly shall do no such thing." Calvin shut his laptop with a bang and stood up from the table. "I will not be part of any plan to weasel my daughters higher up the musical food chain!" And with that he left the room.

Chapter Two

Fran Bennet, nee Gardiner, had studied the violin in her youth. When she met the dashing young conductor Cal Bennet, she gave up the instrument, and instead married him and had a family. Through those daughters, especially through the violinists, she could live the life she herself had missed.

Now, she was very distressed about her husband's apparent lack of interest in their daughters' musical careers. You'd think Calvin Bennet, being a retired reputable musician himself, would care about how the girls got their starts! He knew what a tough world music is, how you have to grab any chance you have to get ahead, and that every little thing counts...

Liz Bennet stumbled out of bed at ten thirty the next morning. Through the paper-thin walls in the dingy apartment her family had rented, she could hear voices -- one loud and upset, the other calm and whispering. "What's going on?" she asked lethargically, entering her mother's bedroom.

"Mom has a head-ache," explained Jenna, who sat on the side of her mother's bed.

"A migraine!" Fran cried. "I knew it would come! It always does when your father acts like this! He takes delight in tormenting me -- has no respect for my poor head."

Liz, being still not quite awake, was confused. "Wha...? What did Dad do?"

"He still insists he won't meet the Netherfield Trio before the house party tomorrow!" Fran buried her head in her pillow, agonized. "He should at least do it out of courtesy and respect -- oh, think of what a horrible impression it will make on them..."

"There, there. It'll all work out for the best." Jenna looked up to Liz, who rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Where's the rest of the family?" Liz wanted to know.

"Livia and Katie have gone off somewhere -- probably to see if there's any cute guys on the list of musicians and teachers. Mary's practicing."

As if on cue, Liz heard the sound of a piano etude, drifting from a bedroom down the hall. "Oh yeah, I hear her now. I'm so glad Mary decided to take her electronic keyboard." Not. "Well, I have to take a shower, and then let's go. I have some things to do in town, plus I want to check out what concerts are lined up for this year."

Jenna nodded. "Me too. Coming, Mom?"

"No, no," Fran whimpered nobly. "Go on without me; I'll just lay here by myself, all alone."

If Fran didn't really want her daughters to go on without her, they didn't realize it, and were soon out the door.

When they returned, five hours later, the whole family was home. Fran was beaming and prancing about the place, crying with delight, and occasionally placing a kiss on her husband's cheek.

"Now what's happening?" Liz asked Mary. She was getting quite sick of all these mood swings.

"Dad met those people, that Netherfield Trio," Mary explained, looking up from her science textbook.

Jenna and Liz were shocked, but happy, all the same. "How wonderful!" Jenna cried.

"Isn't it?" said Fran. "What a funny little joke your father played on us all! Haha!"

"It was no joke." Calvin plopped down on the couch and opened a newspaper.

"But Dad, I thought you said you wouldn't go see them," said Jenna.

"I never said I wouldn't. What I said was, I wouldn't go on a mission to boost my daughters' careers. And I didn't. I went because I myself worked with the Bingley family in the past, when I was conducting, and thought it polite to say hello."

"Oh, then did you meet them all, Dad?" Livia cried from the other side of the room, where she was cleaning the fingerboard of her violin. "Did you meet F. William D'Arcy? Geez, I'm just dying to know what he looks like."

"Mariah Lucas got an autographed head-shot of him in New York last year, and she's says he's really hot," Katie informed her sister.

Exclamations of "Ooh, really!?" came from the mouths of both Livia Bennet and her mother.

Calvin decided the sooner he put an end to this, the better. "I didn't meet F. William D'Arcy. He has a concert in Paris, and will be flying in late tonight." He was met by very disappointed faces, and so continued, "I did, however, meet Charlie Bingley and his sisters."

"The cellist? What's he like?"

Calvin sighed and hid himself behind his paper.

Chapter Three

The following day brought the opening house party. This was a tradition at the Hertfordborough Summer Chamber Music Festival: the evening before the opening day, the directors -- William and Lonna Lucas -- would throw a house party for the musicians and their families. This was always fun, and gave them a chance to meet and relax before the concerts and classes began. The musicians often sight-read together, to get to know each other's playing.

The Bennets got to the Lucases' a little early. This was all right, for the families had always been close friends.

"Lotty! Great to see you again!" Liz embraced her friend, Lotty Lucas -- the oldest child in the Lucas family, and also a violinist. She was twenty-four -- four years older than Liz -- and had been out of college for nearly two years.

"You too, Liz! How've ya been?"

"Okay, you?"

"Mmm, okay. It's been real hell getting ready for this thing, as always. Especially this year, since the Netherfield Trio's coming, and on such short notice."

Liz laughed. "Ack, don't even mention them! My mom's been going on and on -- Netherfield this, F. William D'Arcy that -- nonstop for the past two days!"

Lotty nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, my dad nearly had a heart attack when Charlie Bingley called up. We haven't had something that big and international come here since... well, since never!"

"Are they really as great as everyone makes them out to be?"

"You mean you've never heard them?"

"Nope, never."

"Wait, I've got a flyer from a concert they played over here last year. I'll run and get it..." Liz waited for a few minutes, sipping some newly made punch out of a styrofoam cup, until her friend returned. In her hand she held a bright yellow sheet of paper.

"Here they are."

The flyer announced in large, blaring letters: The Netherfield Trio -- Brahms' C Major Piano Trio and Schubert's B flat Piano Trio, Fri. & Sat. October -----. There was also a picture -- small and black and white, but Liz could still make out the three people in it. A woman -- Louise Bingley -- sat at the piano; small and skinny, her head held high and her hands pressed firmly on the keys. To her left was a man with a cello. He had curly blond hair and a wide smile. Charlie Bingley. Across from him sat the violinist. Liz had never seen F. William D'Arcy before, had never even heard a recording of him, despite his fame as a soloist. He made a startling contrast to Charlie: dark and handsome, with intense eyes and aquiline features. He looked straight and unsmiling into the camera, clutching his violin like it was a baby.

"Hmm, not too friendly, eh?" Liz observed, pointing to D'Arcy.

"Well, let's not judge too quickly," Lotty replied. "After all, we'll be seeing him in person tonight."

And with that, the doorbell rang, and the company began to arrive.

Chapter Four

Author's note: CK, this chapter is dedicated to you -- for always posting entertaining, wonderful stories, and for providing us all with a little chance to drool over a certain real life violinist.

At nine o'clock, two hours after the party began, the long awaited, much anticipated guests appeared. The room, which had been alive with laughter, talking, and music, came to a standstill as the Netherfield Trio plus Carolyn Bingley entered.

Liz, Lotty, and Jenna were reading Haydn's Neuberg trio together when Fran came rushing over. "Girls, girls!" she hissed. "Look who's here!"

Liz glanced across to the four people who had caused the disruption. "At last. I was wondering when they'd get here." Turning back to her musical partners: "Shall we start from 125, then?"

"Oh, Liz, stop it! Don't worry about your little piece," Fran exclaimed.

Lotty stood up. "Sorry Liz, sorry Jenna, it looks like my mom needs help serving the cake. I'm afraid we're gonna have to put the Haydn on hold for a little while." Saying so, she walked away.

"Okay, buh-bye Lot." Liz placed her violin down on one knee with a sigh and looked at Fran. "Mom, what's the big deal? It's only the Netherfield Trio and that singer woman."

Fran was appalled. "Child, how can you talk like that?! You act as if you didn't care a jot about them!"

"Well, I have little reason to. First, they got here ridiculously late. Second, they're looking at everyone like we're a bunch of cretins or something. Third, they've interrupted all the sight-reading and now Lotty has left."

"Oh, that must be F. William D'Arcy!" Fran had paid no attention to what her second oldest daughter was saying. "My, my, my. What a hunk! Makes Joshua Bell look plain in comparison -- and that's saying a lot, heehee. If I were twenty years younger and unmarried, he'd be the one I'd keep my eyes on!"

Liz resigned herself. Lotty was right, she was judging these people before she actually knew them. They were probably perfectly nice and friendly. She searched for Jenna's eyes, but found her sister to be watching something across the room. Following her sister's gaze, Liz discovered it to be settled on a bright, beaming young man, carrying a cello case, and making his way across to their group -- Charlie Bingley.

"Lord, they're coming over!" Fran gasped. "Smile, girls, smile. Get that Haydn off your stands and put something more impressive up -- where's the Paganini...?"

There was no time, for they were soon face-to-face with William Lucas and the cellist of the Netherfield Trio.

"Fran," William Lucas began, "this young man here said he would like to meet you and your family. I believe you've heard of him: Fran, this is Charlie Bingley. Mr. Bingley, Frances Bennet."

After shaking Charlie's hand, Fran stared down at her own as if it had been turned to gold. "Mr. Bingley --"

"Please, call me Charlie," the young man interjected.

"Charlie." It took all her effort to keep from swooning. "So... so glad to meet you finally. I've heard so much about you and your friends." Then, remembering her daughters, "This is my oldest daughter, Jenna. She plays the cello too, you see."

Charlie's grinning face turned to Jenna, and at once their eyes locked. "Hi."

"Hi." Jenna's voice was a mere whisper.

"And this is my second -- Liz," Fran proceeded. "She plays the violin. Mary is the pianist -- she's somewhere around here... Katie is our violist and Livia plays violin -- they're both over there." She motioned to where her youngest two sat with a group of young men. Livia was playing a flashy piece in between laughing and chugging down a conspicuous bottled beverage.

"This looks like a wonderful party," Charlie remarked. "I love sight-reading and ad-libbing and all that." He forced his eyes to leave Jenna for a short second, only to find their way back to her again. "I have some Kraft duets for two cellos..."

Jenna and Charlie were soon off in a corner, playing and talking and laughing together.

Awhile later, Liz went into the bathroom to clean some spilled punch off her blouse. This little seclusion gave her time to think, and clear her head of the ringing that was caused by playing chamber music for hours on end. She was having a lot of fun at the party this year. Sure, the way her mother and Livia acted was embarrassing, but she'd gotten used to that a long time ago.

Jenna seemed to be having a good time with Charlie Bingley. Liz had to admit she had been wrong about him. He seemed a nice, pleasant, good sort of guy. Very English. His friends, on the other hand...

Liz chuckled as she thought of the change her mother's opinion of F. William D'Arcy had gone through during the course of the evening. At the beginning, he was the most magnificent, brilliant, gorgeous man and violinist ever known -- now he had firmly established himself as the meanest, snobbiest, self-assured jerk who had ever had the nerve to show up at Hertfordborough. He had refused to play chamber music with anyone, standing quietly by himself or with one of the Bingley women, who were likewise unenthusiastic.

"Ah well," Liz reflected. "Takes all kinds."

She was drying her shirt with a towel when she heard a familiar voice right outside the door. "Come, William, I must have you play." It was Charlie Bingley. "You've got to. I hate to look over and see you standing alone like a doofus. You'd much better play."

"Are you kidding?" The next voice was lower. Liz strained to hear. The notorious F. William D'Arcy himself, it seemed. "With these people? Who in the world would I play with? Anyway, I didn't bring my Strad -- I wouldn't dare take it here ."

"I'm sure we could find another instrument for you to play on!"

"Chuck, you're not getting my point. I don't want to play."

"I wouldn't be as fussy as you if my life depended on it. There are some wonderful musicians here -- some of them exceptionally talented..."

"You are playing with the only decent one in the whole bunch -- that cellist."

"William, she's the most amazing, beautiful, dazzling girl, uh, player I've ever met! But wait, she has a lot of sisters, you know. Her sister Liz is a violinist, and really good, I hear. There's a lot of violin duet sheet music available --"

His friend cut him short. "She's okay; but not skillful enough to tempt me; and I really don't feel like playing a bunch of Borghi duets with some mediocre fiddler from Podunksville, USA who no one else wants to deal with! Now go back to that Jenna Bennet, enjoy her smiles, and stop bugging me."

Liz, from her hiding place behind the bathroom door, was aghast, humiliated, injured, insulted, and -- most importantly -- angry. But, struggling to control her temper and reminding herself (over and over again) that fire doesn't fight fire, she edged open the door which F. William D'Arcy had been leaning against.

"'Scuse me," she muttered. D'Arcy was shocked and mortified to see Liz Bennet come out of the bathroom. Oh God, how much of that did she hear? he wondered in panic.

"Sorry," he muttered, stepping out of her way. He watched her retreat back into the crowd and join a few of her friends. After laughing over something or other, they picked up their instruments and began playing the last movement of Beethoven's String Quartet in C major, no. 3. It was an incredibly hard piece, and they played it from memory. They're kind of good. He began to regret what he had said to Charlie Bingley. Man, me and my big mouth. Oh well. He tried to think about something else, but his ears and eyes kept wandering over to that group of four string players, where Liz was performing the first violin part -- her tone light and cheerful, her bow moving gracefully over the strings, her eyes sparkling with fun.

Chapter Five

"Hello?"

"Hi, Liz, it's me, Lotty."

"Oh, hi." Liz shifted the phone from one ear to the other and began to pour herself a bowl of cereal. "Some party last night, huh?"

There was laughter at the other end. "Not for me! We ran out of refreshments, and by the end I was stuck in the kitchen helping mom make endless amounts of pigs-in-blankets."

"Mmph. That sucks."

"Ah, I'm a trooper. Anyway, heard your night wasn't so peachy either."

"News travels fast! Yes, it's all true; I have been fully put down by F. William D'Arcy . Seems I'm not worthy of him and his Strad." She affected a stiff British accent and tried to suppress her giggles. "'She's okay; but not skillful enough to tempt me .'"

"Liz! I'm so sorry."

"Don't be! I didn't like him either, so it really doesn't matter. Jenna had a wonderful time with that cellist, and that's good enough for me."

"Charlie Bingley! I only played one little piece with him, but he seemed really sociable."

"Yeah, he's a sweetie. And I've never seen Jenna's head so up in the clouds as it was after we got back last night! Now, so what's up? Why'd you call?"

"Your quartet's rehearsing in the big hall today, right?"

"Right..."

"Could my dad and I come over sometime during your rehearsal? We just want to hear the acoustics, and see if they work with a small chamber group."

"Sure."

"Okay, terrific. See you then."

"See ya. Bye."

"Check out the sound in this place!" Livia bellowed. She and her sister were running down the center aisle in the large Lodge Memorial Concert Hall, which was filled with empty seats. "This is gonna be so great! Listen how far my voice projects!"

"Livia, please!" Jenna cried from on-stage, where she was adjusting her cello's end-pin. "I really don't think you need to yell; we can hear you from anywhere in here. We should start -- Katie, you too."

"And put your instruments down," Liz added. "I can just see you both tripping, dropping your cases, your beautiful hundred-grand instruments springing out and shattering."

Livia and Katie climbed up to where the four chairs sat arranged in a semi-circle. The former set her case down with a 'Humph!' "You're all a bunch of prudes, you know that?" she panted crossly. "Sound like old grandmas."

"Smart old grandmas," Liz corrected. "Now, let's go."

They began to rehearse. It was the first day of the festival, but since it was the middle of the afternoon they had this whole hall to themselves.

The work was intensive. The first piece was Dvorāk's "American" Quartet. Liz was the first violin on this, and Livia was first on their other piece, the "Harp" Quartet by Beethoven. This was okay for both -- Liz liked Dvorāk, she had a strong but light-hearted approach, a beautiful tone, and brilliant technique, although she was not in the habit of showing off. Livia, on the other hand, liked things wild and fast. She could play a Paganini Caprice quicker than lightning, but had trouble making a simple Mozart Concerto interesting. Her sound was pleasing, but rather shallow. Altogether, she lacked the maturity and depth of Liz's playing. But, ironically, a lot of Livia's musical appeal was in her age and juvenility. She was not yet sixteen, and from a far off distance (such as a balcony seat) and given the right kind of dress, she could pass for twelve. Despite, or maybe because of this precocious attraction, Livia was determined not to become a "reclusive weirdo". She wanted to have the eminence of a child prodigy, yet was desperate to be a "typical" American teenage girl -- or, as she would have it, a flake.

In the middle of the second movement, Liz noticed the auditorium door open and several people enter. She knew that Lotty and William Lucas would be coming, but who were those others...? Glancing over without losing her place in the music, she recognized two of them to be the young pianist Denny Kim and oboist Sanderson Little. And the other four -- the Netherfield Trio, plus Carolyn Bingley!

"Denny!" Livia chirped, standing up and (obviously) stopping the music.

"Oh, don't mind us!" William Lucas called. "I'm just showing these folks the excellent resonance we've got in here."

Oh, great, Liz mused sardonically. Just what I need: F. William D'Arcy watching me in rehearsal, ready to catch every little mistake I make.

"Let's move on to the Beethoven," she suggested to her fellow musicians. The violinists made the proper adjustments. Now Liz was the second, and thus on the inside.

Livia was perfectly happy to be the first violin now, just so long as she could be seen by Denny and Sanderson. "Start on the third movement, the presto," she instructed, and then, giving the cue, they began to play -- two times faster than usual.

"Livia, slow down," Jenna whispered, but Livia paid no heed: in fact, she began to push the tempo even further.

"Livia, please!" Liz pleaded softly. Katie was in a frenzy trying to keep up, everything was going out of tune, dynamics were ignored -- it was all pretty much falling apart -- thanks to Livia's urge to display.

But still Livia did not obey. Faster and faster, until -- SPROING!!! "Oh, dangit!" she cried. "My E-string popped! Don't worry, there's an extra in my case. Let's take a little break, okay?"

Liz cornered Livia as they moved away from their chairs. "What the --" Liz, aware she was under close scrutiny by those in the audience, no matter what was said to the contrary, took a deep breath and inwardly counted to ten. Then, "Olivia Ysa˙e Bennet, what was that? You know this thing goes 100 to the quarter, tops. You drove it up to 120 at least."

The younger girl tittered. "Oh well, lot of fun, wasn't it?"

Liz was fuming, but managed to get out, in a rough plaint, "Don't do it again. Now go change your string."

Livia did so, shouting, "Denny! Sanderson! Come over here while I change my E."

Liz sighed and jumped down into the audience. "Lotty!" she hailed, walking over to her friend.

"Hi Liz. You guys sound great."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Sorry you had to see that. Livia's been acting like a real brat lately."

"No, no, it wasn't a big deal."

Out of the corner of her eye, Liz could see F. William D'Arcy observing them. Slightly uncomfortable, she murmured, "I thought it was just going to be you and your dad."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. We were talking to Denny Kim and Sanderson Little -- they have recitals in here in a couple days, and wanted to hear the acoustics. We agreed -- I really hope you don't mind. Charlie Bingley overheard it all, and asked if he could come too -- hmm, wonder why..." she added wryly. Charlie and Jenna were now talking on the edge of the stage, apart from everyone else. "And so since he was coming, his friend and sisters tagged along as well."

"I see."

"Charlie Bingley seems to be paying your sister as much attention now as he did before."

Liz glimpsed at them, smiling. "I'm very happy for her, Lotty. She only met him last night, but I think she's fallen for him already."

"And Charlie? Has he fallen for Jenna?"

"Well, he likes her a lot, that's for sure."

"Charlie is very... influential."

"What do you mean, 'influential'?"

"He's a famous cellist, Liz. I mean famous. You think he's big here, wait 'till you find out what he's like over in Britain. It would never... hurt for the two of them to hit it off."

"You're sounding just like my mom!" laughed Liz. "'Knowing some top-notch musicians never hurts a career', or whatever it was she said..."

"Mmm, maybe. But it's not such a bad plan, you know. Think of it this way -- if Jenna and Charlie keep getting closer at the rate they are now they should be married before the festival's over! Okay, okay, but seriously... it really doesn't hurt a career to be friends with someone prominent."

"It doesn't always work that way," Liz reminded her. "There are many examples of how a relationship can destroy a career as well as make one."

"All the examples I can think of are stupid things that could've been avoided. You know, like a young girl fooling around with her older, married teacher. Jenna doesn't seem like one who would do that . But there are plenty times when a relationship has ended wonderfully. It's a tough field we're in, Liz. Jenna's a wonderful cellist, yeah, but..."

"Lotty, you know it's not right! You'd never sacrifice something, or do something crafty, just to get a job."

"Well, it really makes no difference, for it's clear that Charlie is fond of Jenna, no matter what. Although I don't think his sisters encourage him any."

Carolyn and Louise Bingley were seated way in the back row of chairs, their heads close together in vicious whispering, occasionally shooting a scathing glance.

"No, they don't, do they?" Liz replied. "He doesn't get encouragement from his friend either." She made a slight motion to F. William D'Arcy with her head.

Lotty said nothing for a moment, her eyes going slowly back and forth between Liz and D'Arcy. Finally, "He's looking at you a lot, Liz."

Liz made a face. "I don't know why he would be. He just wants to freak me out, probably. I wish he wouldn't come mingle with us 'commoners' who don't own two-million dollar violins. It makes everyone jittery."

Lotty's eyes left D'Arcy's figure as she exclaimed, "Speaking of two-million dollar violins, Liz -- you haven't really shown me your new violin yet. Oh no, don't demur, I want to hear it! Please, we can just go up on-stage and you can play me a little tune, nothing big."

"Ah, great friend you are!" Liz cried. "I really rather not play around all these people who are used to such better things. Anyway, my instrument is nothing spectacular -- and I'm only just borrowing it!"

"I insist you play, Liz, and you know how stubborn I can be. Come on, no one will hear us. No one's up there right now, except Livia and Katie and their two friends, and I'm sure they won't notice."

Liz submitted, and they walked up on-stage. After removing her violin from its case, re-rosining her bow, and quickly tuning, she began a movement of the Bach Solo Partita no. 3. She became, as always when playing Bach, engrossed in the music, and soon was not conscious of anything but herself and the violin. She was not aware that everyone was looking up at her in surprise, that F. William D'Arcy watched her with astonishment and then, when that faded, admiration. That piece always reminded him of sunlight pouring down through a cathedral window. Hearing her play it, he could almost see a shining ray reflected off her instrument, casting a golden aura around her dark hair. Realizing what his thoughts were leading to, he quickly straightened and began to count how many exit signs were visible from where he sat.

When Liz was finished, and the last note rang out through the hall, she heard a loud eruption of applause. "Oh no," she muttered to Lotty. "Did everyone hear me?"

Lotty, clapping too, answered, "Of course they did, Liz. That violin is something incredible. But you really deserve it. No, I mean it! I've never heard that preludio played so well."

Liz shook her head, smiling, and put the instrument away again. "Well, I'm glad of that at least. I'm never quite sure of how I play in situations like these -- I mean, I lose myself in the music, but I'm not able to be objective."

From the other side of the stage, Livia -- never to be outdone -- proclaimed, "Oh, that looked like fun! Denny, Sanderson, let's play something together. There's a piano back in the corner there. Oh yeah, you don't have your oboe, do you Sanderson... Well, you can still watch. Yes, Katie you can play too, if you want -- but no slowing us down."

The pianist, violinist, and violist were soon engaged in a brisk, noisy piece. Livia did her best to play louder and swifter than anyone else, and let out clamors of delight sporadically throughout. "Isn't this great, Denny? ... Katie, stop lagging behind!"

Liz was annoyed by her sister's obnoxious behavior but resolved not to get involved. Heading to the lobby to get a drink of water, she was blocked by the large form of William Lucas. William Lucas had been a neighborhood piano teacher his whole adult life when, ten years ago, a distant relative died and left him a tremendous amount of money. With that, the Lucas family had formed this chamber music festival, and could live very comfortably at that. Now he was saying, "Marvelous playing, Liz! Marvelous! I'm really looking forward to hearing you play throughout the festival!"

"Thank you."

"But why did you stop? Please play some more, I'd love to hear you."

"Oh, but Livia and her friends are playing."

"That doesn't matter, they're almost finished. Anyway, this place is huge -- we could fit a whole orchestra in here! Ah, Mr. D'Arcy -- would you care to play a duet with Liz? I know you're both Bach enthusiasts -- why not try the Bach Double together?"

Liz was startled by the sudden appearance of D'Arcy, and mumbled, "Really, William, I don't think I'll play anymore -- don't imagine I went this way just to get a partner."

"I'd enjoy playing the Bach Double with you, Miss Bennet," F. William D'Arcy spoke.

"There, you see!" said William Lucas. "Mr. D'Arcy's dying to. He has his instrument with him, and was going to try it out here anyway."

"Thanks... but no thanks." Liz glanced up to D'Arcy's face for one moment, but on meeting his eyes, immediately looked away. "I'm really tired, and don't want to play anymore right now."

F. William D'Arcy watched her move out of the auditorium, lost in his own thoughts, until he heard a familiar voice at his ear.

"I bet I know what you're thinking, Will." Carolyn Bingley had approached D'Arcy quietly, and was now standing directly behind him, her extremely made-up face practically touching the side of his head.

"I bet not." He continued to stare at the door where Liz had gone.

Carolyn chuckled and persisted, "You're picturing how awful it would be to always play with such menial musicians, and I couldn't agree with you more."

"Guess again. I've been meditating on the great feeling that some cheerful eyes in the face of a extraordinary musician can bring about."

D'Arcy felt Carolyn's gaze. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. I wish she'd stop slobbering on me.

"And will you let me in on your little secret? Will you tell me whose eyes you're talking about?" Evidently, Carolyn thought it was herself.

"Liz Bennet."

The opera singer nearly jumped. "L--Liz Bennet... I don't believe it, heh." Her voice was wobbly, and she began to back away. "Perfect! You two can play little duets together -- it'll be so cute. Oh, and Will, please remember to include me on your wedding guest list."

F. William D'Arcy didn't notice her teasing, for Liz Bennet had just re-entered the auditorium.

Chapter Six

Jenna, look here!"

Jenna left her practicing to stand behind Fran at the laptop. "Yes, Mom?"

"There's an email here for you -- from Carolyn Bingley!"

"Carolyn Bingley?" Jenna repeated, her eyes instantly meeting with Liz's, who was reading across the room.

"Yes, Carolyn Bingley! Here, I'll read it to you: 'Dear Jenna; Louise and I tremendously enjoyed hearing you play at your rehearsal yesterday.' -- There now! -- 'You have a sweet tone and seem like an excellent musician.' -- Well, I can't say I disagree with them on that. -- 'We'll be attending a concert of the Woodwind Quintet by Elliot Carter this afternoon at 3 PM and, as Charlie can't come, have an extra ticket. Please email me back, and tell whether or not you'll be able to join us. Thanks, Carolyn.' -- Oh, 'Carolyn,' she says! Jenna, you must go. It's a shame that Charlie won't be there, but Carolyn and Louise Bingley are highly praised musicians as well. You have got to go."

Jenna, unlike her sister, still held a high opinion of the Bingley sisters, and could hardly keep from beaming. "I'll answer her right away," she told Fran, and began to type a quick message.

After lunch, Liz, on entering the room she shared with her older sister, found her mother fussing over Jenna in front of the full-length mirror. The latter wore a long broomstick skirt with a light blue sweater that complimented her complexion. Fran, however, held a little black dress on a hanger, and was crying, "Jenna dear, you must wear this dress -- not that old skirt and sweater! Ah Liz, there you are. Jenna would look simply stunning in this , don't you think?"

Liz looked back and forth between mother and sister. Fran appeared eager and demanding, Jenna helpless and dismayed. Liz was not sure what to say. "Well, Jenna looks beautiful in anything."

"And especially beautiful in this." Fran turned back to the mirror and forced the black dress into her daughter's hands. "Go put it on." Jenna sighed and moved into the bathroom to change.

By the scheming look in her eye, Liz could tell her mother had a plan. "Mom, this is only a day-concert Jenna's going to. That tiny black thing is very dressy."

"Yes, of course! Don't you see -- the concert gets out right in time for dinner, and if the Bingley sisters see Jenna wearing a nice formal dress, their immediate thoughts will be to take her out to eat!"

"Mother!"

"Elizabeth Kreisler Bennet, I know what I am doing! If you care anything about your sister's future as a cellist, you'll let it be!"

Liz drew an angry breath and stared at the floor. There was nothing she could do to change her mother's mind, especially if Jenna didn't stick up for herself.

So it was settled, and at two thirty Jenna set out, wearing the bantam black dress and four inch heels. The few drops that had begun to fall on the windshield as she was driving gradually grew in number, so by the time she had arrived and parked it was pouring. "Oh dear," she said to herself, and searched in vain for a coat. "I'll just have to make a run for it, and hope I don't get very wet." Well, it's not too easy to make a run for it in four inch heels, and Jenna entered the lobby more drenched than had she just walked.

She found Carolyn and Louise Bingley over by the espresso bar. "Hello," she greeted them, rather self-consciously.

"Why... Jenna -- dear." The two sisters stared at Jenna as if she was covered in slime. "How good of you to come. Care for an espresso?"

"No, thank you," Jenna replied courteously. She sneezed. "Oh, pardon me."

"Are you sure you wouldn't like one, dear?" Louise inquired, with a touch of condescension. "I'm afraid you look a little... cold."

"No, really I'm fine, thanks. I just got a little wet on the way in."

"You must learn to carry an umbrella with you at all times," Carolyn reprimanded. "You can never be too careful. I always carry one -- well, of course, I must be extra careful with my voice, but..."

After the Bingley sisters finished their espressos, the party headed to their seats. "What an extremely small hall this is," Carolyn observed as they sat down. "I could have sworn it had at least two thousand seats when we were here yesterday, but now I'd be amazed if it had eight hundred."

"Quite right, my dear," Louise agreed.

"It could be that it looks smaller with lots of people in it," Jane suggested.

Carolyn laughed. "That could be, dear Jenna -- but Louise and I have been in so many halls in our lives, whether as performers or audience members, that I believe we can justly tell the size of any."

"Yes, of course." Jenna smiled politely and began to read her program, but was soon interrupted by Louise.

"Jenna, tell us about yourself," she began. "Is everyone in your family musical?"

"Many of them are," she responded softly. "All my sisters play an instrument, of course, and my father was a conductor."

"And your mother?"

"She played the violin in high school."

"And now she, uh...?"

"She gave it up when she got married."

"Oh, that is surprising," said Carolyn. "She seemed to show such -- oh, such ebullience at the house party Friday; I could have sworn she still played. Well, what does she do now?"

"She's a homemaker, mainly."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Raising five daughters is a full-time job."

"Of course it is." There was a hint of disdain in Carolyn's voice, covered with a sugary sweet coating. "Especially when the five daughters are all so musical."

"Who are your teachers? Are they here at Hertfordborough?" Louise went on.

Jenna was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "I study with Kathy Gardiner, and my sisters Liz and Livia study with her husband, Ed Gardiner. And no, they're not here at Hertfordborough."

Louise frowned. "I don't believe I've ever heard of them. Funny. Are they American?"

"Actually, they're British. They spend a good amount of time in America (we study with them when they're over here, of course), but they're often in England. I believe they're in London right now."

"Oh." A contemptuous glance -- slight but visible -- passed between the sisters. "Exactly where in London, Jenna?"

Jenna was spared any further interrogation, at least for the present, because at that moment the lights went down and the music began.

The concert was very long. Once in a while, a wave of nausea would sweep over Jenna's body. She did everything to stifle her coughs and sneezes. She tried to calm her shiverings. It was freezing in the auditorium, and being in a skin-tight dress damp with water didn't help. Be patient. This thing is almost over, and then you can just go home and go to bed.

It took all Jenna's strength to stand and applaud with the rest of the audience. Her head felt stuffed with cotton.

"Jenna dear, so glad you could come," the Bingley sisters told her as they stood in the lobby.

"Thank you for inviting me," Jenna replied, coughing, and left for her car.

"The rain hasn't let up a bit," she thought as she headed down the parking lot. On reaching her vehicle, she fumbled for the correct key, straining to see through the rain. "A-choo!" The door unlocked, and she was safely in the warm, dry interior. She began the motor. "Start... " But it wouldn't. She tried and tried, desperate. "Oh, please... please start... start, will you?"

It made a spluttering noise, but that was it. Jenna let out a low utterance -- very rare for her-- and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. I feel terrible... I don't want to... I'd give anything in the world not to... Oh Jenna, they won't mind it if... Stepping once again out into the downpour and locking the door, she trudged back to the lobby.

Carolyn and Louise Bingley were at the pay phones when they saw Jenna Bennet return. She looked soaked and miserable.

"I'm... I'm afraid my car won't start," she managed to get out.

Even Carolyn and Louise couldn't turn their backs on that. They insisted that Jenna come back to their hotel with them -- for it was much closer than the Bennet's apartment -- and from there they would call the autoclub.

Chapter Seven

"Where in the world could Jenna be?" Liz pondered aloud as she booted up the laptop. "The concert must have gone seriously over-time."

"Or perhaps she's dining out with the Bingleys -- ever thought of that, eh?" Fran called jubilantly across the room. "It's all exactly as I planned..."

"There's an e-mail here, it's from Carolyn Bingley's address..." Liz started. "But wait -- it's from Jenna! Oh, no..."

Fran looked up from her needlepoint. "What? What is it? For heaven's sake, Liz, read it aloud so the rest of the family can hear!"

Liz read in a halting voice, "'Dear Liz; I tried calling but you were out. The car broke down after the concert, and so I'm writing this from Carolyn's e-mail in their hotel. I've caught a cold -- a fever, a sore-throat, and stuffy nose, is all -- but the Bingleys won't hear of my leaving until I am all better. That's why I won't be home tonight. Please tell everyone not to worry about me. Love, Jenna.'"

"Well, my dear, I hope you're happy now," Calvin observed from his book. "Not only is Jenna going to spend more time with the Bingleys, she'll be spending the night in their rooms. And if she gets worse, and the Longbourn Quartet's concert has to be called off because of it, it will be satisfying to know that it's all the best for her real career, and under your orders."

"Oh well, Jenna always recovers quickly." Fran waved her hand restlessly. "She said herself not to worry. And now she will be able to see Charlie! This whole thing is wonderful if you put it in that light... and as you know, I'm always one to look on the bright side of things."

Liz could take no more, and raced to her room. She was disgusted by Fran's self-centered behavior. She was impatient and worried over her sister's health. Jenna did not recover from things quickly: last time she had the flu, it had developed into pneumonia and she had been in bed for a week and a half. Liz tried not to think of what would happen if they really did have to call off the concert. Slipping into a pair of pajamas, she laid down on the bed to rest.

When she opened her eyes again, sunshine lit the room and a nearby bird sang a blissful melody. Liz sat up and stretched. She didn't remember sleeping at all -- and yet she felt refreshed and restored. The worries of last night had transformed into determination.

It was ten till eight. Discovering the air outside her window to be warm, she pulled on a pair of running shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, and tiptoed down to the kitchenette, so as not to wake the rest of the family.

Liz was tying her Asics, a peanut butter bagel taste remnant on her lips, when she heard the sound of Fran's slippers come padding down the hall.

"Cripes," Liz grumbled, and straightened up to meet her mother.

"Child, where on earth are you going?" Fran demanded, appearing complete with bathrobe, curlers, and green rejuvenating face mask.

"To Jenna, naturally."

"What? It's eight in the morning -- you've got to practice."

"I can practice when I get home. I practiced for eight hours yesterday, don't forget! And seeing Jenna is the most important thing right now."

"I'm sure the Bingleys are taking excellent care of her, Elizabeth."

Liz looked the other woman in the eye. "I know she'd like me to be with her."

"And how are you planning to get there? We can't have you drive off in our extra car."

"No problem. I was going to run anyway."

"Run?!" Fran was disbelieving. "It's seven miles -- you'll be all sweaty and disheveled by the time you arrive."

"Jenna won't care how I look, and that's all that matters. I'm resolved, Mom."

The run was delightful. Liz had not gotten much exercise since their arrival at Hertfordborough, so this was a welcome change. The storm had completely subsided -- not a single cloud littered the sky. She smiled and breathed the mountain air deeply into her lungs.

Finally she reached the hotel. As she began to open one of the glass doors, she came face-to-face with F. William D'Arcy, who was going the other way.

"Li--Miss Bennet!" he cried.

"Oh, hello." Liz considered edging past him, and thus not having to say another word, but thought better of it. "I'm here to see Jenna."

"You ran here?" he asked, noticing her clothes.

"Yep." A pause. She continued coolly, "Could you take me to your rooms -- unless you're on your way out."

"No, no, I was just, um..." D'Arcy didn't seem quite sure what to say, so instead he bid her, "Right this way."

He led her through the lobby into a glass elevator, up to the top floor. Liz had gone by this hotel probably a thousand times during her times at Hertfordborough, but had never actually been inside. It all struck her as a sort of meager attempt at grandeur, though it was probably the most majestic building at Hertfordborough, and therefore the only one fit to hold the distinguished Netherfield Trio.

They walked all the way down to the end of the hall. As D'Arcy unlocked the door and they stepped inside, Liz caught her breath. The room was huge -- well, the rooms, rather. The main one was long and bright. The far wall was covered in window, opening out to the distant mountains. The floor was richly carpeted in white, the furniture modern Italian leather. To her right, she spied a kitchen, which in itself seemed bigger than her family's whole apartment.

Beside the window was a grand piano, where Louise now sat. She was accompanying Carolyn in a very shrill rendition of The Jewel Song. When Liz entered, the women stopped their music and gave each other panicked looks. Louise recuperated first, and was able to say, "Good day, Liz. What an... unexpected pleasure."

However unexpected, it was obviously not a pleasure to her, Liz could sense. They were saved by Charlie Bingley hastening in from another room.

"Liz! How good to see you! Please, make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink -- a glass of water, or coffee, maybe?"

"No, no, thank you. I've come to see Jenna."

She was shown to her sister's room. Jenna looked pale and unwell, but still smiled up at her sister. "Liz. I didn't know you were coming."

"Of course! How could I stay at home with you here?"

"Our rehearsals, and -- and --"

"Shh..." Liz placed a thermometer in her sister's mouth.

When it beeped, Jenna said, "I'm so sorry about all this, Liz. I'm sorry I got sick. When I just think about our concert, and how hard we've worked, and that I might stop it from happening --"

"Jenna, please!" Liz smiled and sighed. Her sister was so anxious for everyone else to be happy, she often forgot about herself. "Please don't worry. It'll all work out for the best, just like you always say. I promise."

Jenna smiled too. "Yes, I guess you're right." She yawned.

"Now I'll leave and let you get some more sleep, okay?"

Jenna nodded and closed her eyes.

As Liz scuttled out of her sister's room, she could hear voices.

"Rude, that's what I say she is." Carolyn. "Just showing up, not even calling first! But I guess that's what we get for coming to an American festival."

"Well, at least she must be a wonderful runner." Now it was Louise. "But the way she looked when she came through that door! Dripping with perspiration, and ...!"

"I could hardly keep from laughing. What does she mean, running up and down the mountains because her sister has the sniffles? I hate to admit it, but I think it's all a lot of overreacting. And did you see her hair? It was practically falling down her back in one sloppy tangle."

"How about her running clothes? So dirty and worn-out looking."

"Oh, stop it, will you?" Charlie Bingley suddenly decided to speak up. "I don't believe either of you. She's just in the other room! Besides, I thought she looked very nice and energized. I didn't notice anything so terribly wrong with her hair or her running clothes."

"I'm sure you noticed her running clothes, Will," Carolyn snickered.

"I did."

"I bet you wouldn't want your sister running miles and miles, wearing those little things."

"No, I wouldn't." His reply was low and short.

"It shows such immodest independence. Really taking that whole women's lib thing a little too far, in my opinion." She lowered her voice, and Liz couldn't hear what she said -- something about Will and cheerful eyes. D'Arcy answered a bit more audibly -- "Not at all. They were brightened by the exercise."

"Did I tell you who they study with? Some couple called Gardiner. I've never heard of them in my life -- have you, Will? Poor Jenna didn't mention any university ties. No, they're British; but I still think that at twenty or however old they are, they ought to --"

Liz decided to stop this conversation before it was too late, so quickly set foot into the room, and reported on her sister's present condition.

Charlie looked very distressed upon hearing that Jenna was unimproved. "Oh, that's terrible. I hope it's nothing serious. You, as her sister, must stay here until she's better."

Liz objected at first, but Charlie was tenacious. She finally gave in, and called home for her violin to be brought over.

Chapter Eight

After six hours of rigorous practice interspersed with visits to her sister, Liz set her violin into its case. As she stretched her exhausted shoulders and massaged her well-callused fingers, she realized there was another violin playing somewhere close-by. At first she passed it off as imaginary reverberations from her own concentrated application, but soon realized it was F. William D'Arcy practicing in another part of the hotel suite. Big deal. Go on with your stretching, and pay no attention. But curiosity got the better of Liz. She listened closely. He was playing a piece high on the G string -- Ravel's "Tzigane," no doubt for his recital. His tone held some resemblance to Heifetz, with an intense, fast vibrato and a bow that dug vigorously into the string. It wasn't her style of playing, but... well, as much as Liz hated to admit it, he was good -- very good.

She stopped eavesdropping when her stomach began to rumble, and she remembered how tired and famished she was. After another check on Jenna (still asleep), Liz made her way through the large white halls to find the others. As she came into the main room, the aroma of delicious Chinese food hit her like the sound of a waterfall might to a person who has trudged for days through the Sahara desert.

A small card table had been pulled out to the middle of the room, and on it were piled several little take-out boxes, which Carolyn, Louise, and Charlie were eagerly emptying. Carolyn looked up as Liz walked in. "Oh, you're here." She smiled coldly. "Care to join us?"

Liz was too hungry to heed the scorn. "Thank you."

She sat down and was helping herself to some vegetable lo mein when D'Arcy came in. "There you are, Will!" The difference between Carolyn's welcomes to Liz and D'Arcy was pitifully evident. "I was wondering if you'd ever stop practicing!"

D'Arcy appeared not to have heard her. He stopped at Liz's chair, and said, "I hope your sister's feeling better."

Liz was more than a little surprised. "She's sleeping, but I think she's a little better, yes."

"Good." He looked at her a moment longer, and Liz could almost swear she saw a small smile on his lips.

Carolyn apparently saw it too, for she urged, "Will, come have some Chinese with us! There's room for you -- here, you can sit over by me."

D'Arcy glanced in her direction, and replied, "Thanks, but I'm not hungry just this moment." He proceeded to sit himself on the couch at the other side of the room and start up his computer.

Carolyn was displeased, and began to tensely peel the skin off an eggroll.

"Liz, I hope your practicing went well," Louise remarked, aware of the precarious quietude. "You were practicing scales for an awfully long time -- an hour at least."

"Yeah." Liz smiled and blew on a spoonful of hot and sour soup.

"Liz adores playing scales and etudes," Carolyn broke in. "She would play them all the time, if it wasn't for those solo pieces, yes?"

Liz laughed dubiously. "The exact opposite, actually! Etudes and scales are very helpful, but they're not something anyone adores."

Carolyn had no clue what to say in return. She looked over at D'Arcy. "Will, what are you doing over there on that ghastly machine of yours?"

"I'm e-mailing my sister."

"Oh, dear Georgette! How is she? How's her music coming along? I'm dying to hear her again."

"She has a concert in London this week. Mozart's D Major Flute Concerto."

"I'm sure she'll be wonderful. She has such a developed sound for only seventeen -- truly exquisite. And not just on the flute -- she plays so many other instruments as well: the piano, the piccolo, she even sings a little! Do you play anything apart from the violin, Liz?"

"Well, I used to take piano lessons, and picked up a bit of cello and viola from my sisters."

"There is so much musical talent in the world today!" Charlie observed buoyantly. "So many phenomenal players."

"I can only think of a few who are genuinely outstanding in this day and age," D'Arcy murmured.

Yeah, and I'm sure you're on the top of the list.

"You're absolutely right," Carolyn exclaimed. "There seems to be a sea of indifferent musicians in the world right now -- competent, but nothing astounding. To be really great, your facility and phrasing requires perfection, of course, but there must also be a spark, a way of captivating the audience; you must live and breathe the piece, must perform it with perpetual truth and conviction, as if you wrote the piece yourself."

Had this been said by anyone else, Liz would've agreed completely; but Carolyn's only aim, she knew, was to impress Will.

"And to all this," D'Arcy added, "there must yet be something more: a solid and basic knowledge of your instrument, that can only be acquired through repetitive practicing of scales and etudes."

Liz looked down at the table, trying to conceal a grin. Carolyn was hushed.

D'Arcy finished his letter a little later, and sat down to eat. At the same time Fran Bennet showed up ("I was over at Livia's rehearsal at Lodge Hall, and thought I'd just pop over to see how Jenna's doing."). On returning from her eldest daughter's sick room, she was asked by an anxious Charlie, "Is... is she at all better?"

"She is recovering, yes, though I still hate to disturb her..."

"Don't worry, she can stay another night here. No problem at all -- and Liz, I extend the invitation to you too. We have plenty of rooms in here."

Staying the night within a mile of D'Arcy and the Bingley sisters was about as appealing to Liz as jumping into a pit of piranhas, but when she remembered Jenna, suffering and desolate... "Thank you..." Liz couldn't help notice a sickened expression pass between Carolyn and Louise. "Yes, I will most definitely spend the night here," she stated more assertively. "I know Jenna wants me to be here with her."

Fran was happy. "I'm sure that's the best thing. My my my, what a lovely room you have here! So big and fashionable -- and look at that view. I bet you'll never want to leave."

Charlie beamed. "I bet you're right. This country is beautiful. If the Hertfordborough Festival was year round, I'd be here all the time! Right, Will?"

F. William D'Arcy glanced up from his kung pao chicken. "You would? You don't find it a little limited?"

Fran spun to face him, outraged. "Limited ? How could you say so?! Hertfordborough has so many incredible musicians -- how on earth could it be limited?!"

D'Arcy studied his kung pao chicken.

"Mom," Liz interpolated, highly disconcerted, "that's not what he meant. Now, I'm sure Livia wants you back at her rehearsal, so why don't you go, okay?"

"Well, all right. But you'll need a change of clothes for tomorrow, and your toiletries," Fran grumbled. "Thankfully, I just happened to bring some."

Bags in hand, Liz waved good-bye to her mother, and turned back to her hosts with a lightened spirit.

"Thank you again, Charlie," she began, sitting down and picking up a book. "I really mean it."

"Oh Liz, no trouble at all. Anything for Je -- uh, anything to make your sister feel better."

"Nothing on this damn television set," Carolyn snapped, as she mindlessly clicked a remote control.

"Wait, what was that?" Liz wondered, looking up at the TV. "A few channels back -- there."

It was an English movie, set two hundred years or so ago. A man and a woman were walking along a green field. A mansion loomed in the background. "Are you disposed to call his interference -- officious?" the man was saying.

"What, this?" Carolyn asked skeptically.

"Yeah, seems interesting."

"Mm." Carolyn turned off the set. "Some costume drama -- the BBC is full of them these days. I can't stand it. I really don't understand this huge fascination people have -- history is all done and completed, why mull over it! -- Oh Will, the fortune cookies! I entirely forgot."

Will walked over to the group, and set a basket of fortune cookies on the coffee table.

"Choose one for me, will you, Will?" Carolyn beseeched.

D'Arcy's eyes rolled slightly, but it went unnoticed by Carolyn. He opened a cookie from its plastic and broke it in two.

"Well, what does it say?" she wanted to know.

"'Good fortune may come your way, but you'll miss it if you don't lower your nose.'"

It took Carolyn a few moments to comprehend what the others were laughing about. "Oh... ah-ha-ha-ha..."

Charlie said he would like one too. D'Arcy unwrapped one for him, and read,

"'You go through the world eager to approve of everyone you meet.'"

"Hardly a fortune, but I like it all the same," laughed Charlie. "At least it didn't say anything about noses!"

"Now my turn, Will," Louise spoke.

"Eagles will soar high over your life. Always wear a hat.'"

Louise didn't think it was funny.

"Don't worry, Louise," Liz chuckled. "I'm sure Will's fortune will be terrible for that."

"How could Will's fortune be terrible?" Carolyn broke in. "He is a man without blemishes -- He has perfect karma!"

"Does he really?" Liz asked, her eyes twinkling. "Perfect karma?"

"No one can have perfect karma," D'Arcy interjected. "It's impossible. But I hope I haven't done something so horrible that I come back as an ant or a toilet bowl scrubber in my next life."

"Oh, I don't think anyone can come back as a toilet bowl scrubber, technically," Liz responded archly.

"And," he continued, "I hope I've guarded against the failings that one is punished for in this life."

"Hmm, such as narcissism and pride, perhaps?"

"Narcissism is definitely a failing. But pride... Well, it depends on the individual case. Sometimes it is warranted."

Liz sighed, grabbing a cookie from the basket. "Well, I guess you must be perfect then. You have squeaky-clean karma -- you're destined to be emperor of the universe in your next life."

"I didn't say that. I have plenty of faults deep-down. My temper is not the longest on earth. And I'm not one to forgive and forget... To put it plainly, my good opinion once gone is gone for good."

"That certainly is a fault, but I can't blame you for it." Liz cracked open the cookie. "But enough talk..." She held up the small white scrap of paper. "It says you are doomed to hate everyone you meet!" she read triumphantly.

He took a cookie for her. "And yours says you will willfully misunderstand everyone you meet."

Liz knew he had made that fortune up. Can't blame him. I made his up too. She was not aware that they were staring at each other until Carolyn broke the silence. "I think I'll put on some music now," she announced. "Everyone like LaToya Jackson?" She left her chair with an apprehensive glance at D'Arcy and Liz.

"Thank you so much for all your hospitality." Jenna shook Charlie's hand, smiling bashfully.

"It was my pleasure, I assure you!" Charlie responded, beaming. "But are you certain you feel better? Truly, you're both welcome to stay at our hotel a day longer, if you wish --"

"Thank you for the offer, but no," Liz interrupted. "We promised to meet our family at a coffee house in half an hour."

"I'm feeling much, much better," Jenna guaranteed. "Thank you. Besides, the quartet really needs to rehearse."

"Of course," Charlie said. "It would be best that way. Say, when is your quartet's concert?"

"On Friday," Jenna replied. "And Liz's recital is on Thursday."

"Wonderful! We'll be sure to come to both... And when is your recital, Jenna?"

"Not for another week and a half."

Liz inquired into the dates of Charlie's concerts.

"Mmm? Oh, ah, my recital is performing in two weeks, the day before the festival closes. Our trio's concert is only next week, however; and Will is giving his recital the day prior. Say, y'know, I really think I might give a house party. Really, I loved the one at the Lucases' so much. Maybe we could rent out that big banquet hall in the hotel, and after our trio concert next week everyone could come over and play chamber music again."

"That would be great," Jenna responded, with as much zeal as her customary serenity would allow.

"Our bus is here," Liz informed them. "Come on, Jenna -- got your bag?"

Jenna nodded, but seemed reluctant to go. "I'll be there in a second, Liz."

"Oh, okay," Liz grinned. "I'll go save us a seat."

She got on and paid the driver, then made her way to the back of the bus. In a few minutes Jenna joined her. The latter was smiling blissfully.

The bus pulled away from the curb, and both girls waved out the window to Charlie.

"Well, Jenna," Liz sighed, "not counting the superb Charlie Bingley, I've never been happier to leave a place as I am now. It was terribly claustrophobic in there."

Jenna laughed, and gave her sister's hand a supportive squeeze.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, D'Arcy was staring out the window. It was a clear day, and if he looked very carefully, he thought he could see the bus Liz and her sister were traveling on.

Carolyn sat at the breakfast table, chopping a piece of ham. "So nice to have this place to ourselves again!" she told her sister, eyeing D'Arcy acutely. "You never really appreciate privacy until you lose it for awhile. But I think Will is languishing over the loss of Liz Bennet's running clothes and 'cheerful eyes.'"

"Don't be ridiculous," D'Arcy muttered, taking a sip of his coffee. He continued to stare out the window.

Continued In Next Section