DEDICATION
To Alice
Who knew scarlet fever was still around —a old-fashioned disease in our modern world
CHAPTER ONE
It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that a family member near death’s door cannot but have an effect on and change the members of that family.
Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were sitting together one evening and, for once, were by themselves and not surrounded by their children.
“Mr. Bennet, have you heard the news?” said his lady to him.
“No, my dear, what news do you have to report?” He looked up from his book.
“Netherfield Hall has been let! I believe it indicates that there is an end to the troublesome times that the neighborhood has confronted.” Her face glowed with excitement; her cheeks displayed a rosiness that contrasted with the starkness of her dress. The glow took off a few years from her face and, for a moment, the former beauty of Meryton could be seen in her features.
“Too true, my dear. Though it cannot truly brighten our family troubles.” Mr. Bennet’s face looked grave as he looked down at his lap. No bloom graced hischeeks, and his dark eyes held a world of worries and sorrow.
“Well, my dear, it has been let by a young man from the North. Mrs. Long reports that he is young and single. Perhaps he may consider one of the girls!” she remarked, attempting to cheer him before returning to her stitching.
“And I suppose you wish for me to visit him? Does it not seem too soon after losing our Mary to be thinking of marriageable young men for our remaining daughters?”
“Mr. Bennet, the death knells rang over a year ago. I think it is time we consider that we need to move on.” Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sought his in a plea that said far more than her words.
“I, for one, cannot forget the day that Mary was lost to us, my dear.” Her husband returned her gaze and tried to say things with his eyes that he could not say with his voice.
“Nor I, Mr. Bennet, nor I. I have loved all of my children, but we have four daughters to consider. And Lizzy has just come back to us after being gone for most of that year—we need to consider them,” she maintained, pursuing her lips while she pursued her line of thinking.
“Perhaps you are right, my dear,” he muttered, though he did not sound convinced.
“Consider…” she began, but Mr. Bennet interrupted.
“That seems to be your favorite word,” he commented.
“Yes, Mr. Bennet, consider that Jane is now almost two years past twenty, and no matter how beautiful she may be, beauty does not last forever. And Lizzy…”
“Yes, my poor Lizzy.” His shoulders sagged, and he looked down at his book, though not because it held his interest.
“Poor Lizzy has recovered, but her hair will take a long time to grow back. And her injury I fear no man will take her now.” Mrs. Bennet shook her head sadly and bent over her embroidery again, pulling tightly at a stitch.
“I doubt that; it may make marriage more manageable if she cannot hear what her husband has to say. Besides, Lizzy says she has some hearing in one ear and seems to be slowly recovering more and more.” Mr. Bennet’s voice brightened for the first time, and some semblance of his old humor snuck back in. “And our Katherine, well, Kitty appears to have settled down and is considerably less ridiculous than she once was,” he added. “I never thought I would think to see her lessfoolish, but there it is.”
“Our Lydia is still a sweet, joyous girl,” proclaimed his wife. “This period of mourning has been such a strain on her. It is too bad that her formative years had to be marked by losing a sister,” remarked Mrs. Bennet of her youngest and still favorite child.
“That is one of the lessons of life.” Mr. Bennet’s face showed that he did not subscribe to his wife’s views about their youngest with his firmly-set lips. “So you wish me to visit this new tenant of Netherfield Hall?” He brought his wife back to their original point.
“We have had no balls or assemblies in the neighborhood for over a year. Families have barely been visiting with the fever passing through. It will be pleasant to have things return to normal.” She put on her most alluring smile as she winked at him.
“Nothing will be normal with so many in the neighborhood having been affected.” Mr. Bennet looked at her sternly. “But I will visit this new neighbor.”
There was a fuss at the breakfast table the next morning. Jane noticed that her mother was wearing a lavender dress.
“Why, Mamma! You have decided to stop wearing mourning! Has it truly been a year?” She inquired when her mother walked into the room. Lydia and Katherine glanced up from their conversation in astonishment.
These three Bennet sisters had their mother’s blue eyes. Jane and Lydia were graced with blond locks, while Katherine had dark ones. Jane was the beauty of the three; her intelligent yet sweet disposition added to her attraction. Lydia’s joiedevivrewas part of her appeal. She was on that borderline between child and adult, but there was still something of a child about her.
“Does this mean there will be balls again, Mamma?” asked Lydia. “Will I finally be able to go?” Her delight at the prospect of being out in society was evident.
“Mamma! You did not let me come out until I was sixteen!” pouted Katherine, looking from her younger sister to her mother.
“We will have to see what the autumn season will be like with so many of our local families affected; there may not be many social events, I fear,” sighed Mrs. Bennet. “We need to set an example for the neighborhood and begin to start Meryton society on a track back to what it once was.”
“What is this discussion of ‘conventional’ events?” beamed a beautiful woman who walked in arm-in-arm with another. Both were
around the same height with balanced figures, though they sported short-cropped hair that was laced through with a ribbon in an attempt to make their appearance more feminine. The questioner, Catherine Parks, had a classically beautiful face, blond hair, and dark eyes. The last Bennet daughter, Elizabeth, was also handsome— though not in direct comparison to her friend—with dark hair and entrancing dark eyes. Like her sister, Jane, her intelligence was readily apparent in her expression.
Elizabeth looked toward the group and then back to her friend as if she had missed something; her lower lip pouted. Jane looked from her sister to her mother and raised her voice. “We were talking about the prospect of the harvest season,” she announced to both women, “and life returning to normal.”
“I do not see how things will ever be normal again with both Mary and Charlotte gone.” Elizabeth declared and sat down suddenly at the table without going to the sideboard to select her breakfast. Miss Parks was left standing, and the smile faded from Catherine’s lips. Jane knew the reason for the distress that clouded Miss Parks’ face. To her surprise, Katherine Bennet popped up, took Catherine Park’s arm, and led her to a seat.
“I have to help my fellow Catherine!” Kitty declared as she directed a look at Elizabeth while she helped Miss Parks sit down. Kitty went to the sideboard and prepared two plates of food and brought them back. Catherine Parks expressed her thanks, but Lizzy was silent and stared at her plate.
“My sweet Katherine! What a big help you are!” gushed Mrs. Bennet. “Helping poor Miss Parks because she is too blind to see; you are a dear, sweet girl!” Most of the occupants at the table winced at her words, but no one said anything to censure her speech. “We are so fortunate that Elizabeth found such a good friend in Miss Parks when she was sent away to that sanitarium. They make such an interesting pair: one blind, the other deaf. Almost as if between the two of them, they make one whole woman!” There were more grimaces at the table.
“Though I’m sure what a man wants is a woman who is mute,” Mr. Bennet said as he walked in with a book under his arm. Elizabeth
smiled at him, their dark eyes meeting in amusement. He had learned to project his voice so that she could always hear him.
“Good morning, Papa,” Lizzy said, and finally began to nibble at her breakfast. He smiled at her and then seated himself with his book by his plate.
“Oh, my dear Mr. Bennet! You are such an excellent father!” declared his wife. Her daughters and Miss Parks looked at her expectantly, noting the tone of excitement. “He is to visit the new neighbor you know, the one Mrs. Long told us about!” Mrs. Bennet waved her hands in the air excitedly. “He agreed, last night.”
“Oh Papa! Do you think he is handsome?” asked Lydia, who clasped the side of the table as if to steady herself. “I could only marry a handsome man!”
“Oh hush, Lydia,” Jane scolded. “You are too young to know what you want.”
“I am not!” Lydia countered, ”Mamma was only seventeen when she met Papa.”
“Yes, but you are only fifteen,” pointed out Katherine, who was two years older than Lydia. Before the loss of Mary, she would have pleaded for Lydia’s emergence into society and taken her side in an argument. But the loss of her sister Mary had affected her more than anyone could have anticipated given that Mary and Kitty were never close.
“Yes, but I will be sixteen in the spring,” Lydia began.
“We will talk about it later. I want to eat my breakfast in peace. After all, I have a social call to make,” declared their father; his statement was enough to make the room quiet down.
Mr. Bennet paid his visit. Despite all the questions put to him by his family, he did not volunteer any information about the new neighbor. The Bennet girls knew, from a visit to their Aunt Philips, that his name was Mr. Charles Bingley. He was reasoned handsome, rode an exquisite black horse, and was to have a sister live with him. He was purported to be from the North, had been living in London for some time—had inherited a fortune made in trade just a generation ago—but intended to live like a gentleman.
Mr. Bingley had several sisters, and they all made an appearance at Netherfield during the coming weeks. But only two would remain: an unmarried one who was to keep his house and a married sister with her husband. The discussion of Mr. Bingley’s family situation was a sufficient topic to keep Meryton in raptures for over a fortnight.
What no one in the neighborhood could reason was why he had chosen to let Netherfield Hall when the community had been plagued with scarlet fever a year ago; they reasoned that any stranger would want to keep his distance. But Mr. Bingley was precisely the sort of focus the area needed to help it heal from their collective gloom.
A year earlier, a tenant family on the Goulding’s estate had taken ill. No one had thought much about it as people often became sick. But then families on estates and families in the village began to be feverish as well. The poor apothecary found himself summoned day and night, and the surgeon from the next town over was called in to help.
The local parson, Reverend Vickers, found his hands full with charitable work as many of the women in the parish refused to visit the sick out of fear for their safety. A few, like Elizabeth Bennet, Charlotte Lucas, and Amy Goulding, carried on.
Elizabeth entreated her sisters to help her carry parcels of food to those tenant families on the Longbourn estate who were suffering. On the day Elizabeth came down with scarlet fever, she had pleaded with Jane to come but had been refused. Jane claimed she was busy helping their mother but had been fearful of contracting the dreaded disease. So Elizabeth cajoled her next younger sister, Mary, into trudging the estate to deliver soup, bread, and a kind word.
By the day’s end, Elizabeth’s throat was fiercely sore, by the second day, her body was bright red with a rash, and her head burned. Mary was tucked into bed next to her with the same symptoms. The family feared that their second and third daughters would share the same fate as those of the Stone children—all six—
who had been laid to rest in the Meryton graveyard within a week of Elizabeth and Mary’s charitable visit.
Jane, Katherine, and Lydia were sent to stay with their Aunt Philips while Mrs. Bennet proved she loved all of her children equally as she nursed her two stricken ones. Mr. Bennet, usually not one for the sick room, found that he could visit and read to them.
Mary, however, did not recover. On a bright, warm day in September, Reverend Vickers said a beautiful service for her, and the bells in the Meryton church were rung to note her passing. Two days later, he performed the same service for their friend, Charlotte Lucas.
Charlotte had been a particular friend of the Bennet family, though she was a few years older than Elizabeth. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet could not bear to tell Lizzy about her friend’s passing while she was so sick. Many months would go by before she would know of Charlotte’s fate.
Amy Goulding, a neighbor, was the same age as Elizabeth but took ill after Elizabeth and Mary. Her father had family in London who knew of a new type of health facility called a ‘sanitarium.’ It had an on-staff physician and was reckoned the very best option for Amy’s recovery. Mr. Goulding prepared to send his daughter there, but being a good neighbor, he called on the Bennets to describe the merits of the facility.
Within a day, the two young women were carefully packed into the Bennet carriage accompanied by Mr. Bennet and the Goulding housekeeper (as no younger female servant was willing to be near the sick women out of fear of catching the fever). They were carefully taken to Kent with their parents’ apprehensive wishes for their lives, no matter the expense.
The Priestwood Green Sanitarium was located in a building of new construction along the London road in a town called Addington. It had been founded by a gentleman, Mr. Benedict Markham, who had studied with the Royal College of Physicians. Eschewing the gentlemanly life of leisure and its injunction to never work with one’s hands, he founded the sanitarium in the hopes of bringing relief to those who suffer. Dr. Markham employed a staff of surgeons and
apothecaries who performed most of the care-taking work, but Dr. Markham still consulted with his patients and administered ‘physics’ or medicines in the hopes of curing them—or at least relieving their symptoms.
Amy and Lizzy were brought to the Sanitarium and placed under Dr. Markham’s care, where they recovered. Amy Goulding recovered fully, without any ill-effects of having suffered from scarlet fever. By Christmastime, she was able to return to her family and the approbation of the neighborhood (which needed a bright spot of news). While the fever seemed to have run its course, people’s memories run long, and it was hard not to fear that at any moment it might return and wipe them all out. To see Miss Goulding in good health with plump cheeks and bright eyes did the entire town good.
In early December, before Miss Goulding came home, Mr. Bennet visited Elizabeth at the sanitarium; he was surprised at the thin and somber creature that sat wrapped in a shawl by a fire with some of the other residents—his daughter was barely recognizable. Amy Goulding was in the parlor as well and looked her usual, beforeillness self. The difference in how much one had recovered, versus how much one had not, was sobering to him. He decided that he could not yet impart the news about Charlotte Lucas to Lizzy as he had planned—that news must wait for another day.
“And how are you getting on with the other residents?” he asked instead. It was such a general question as if she was a new acquaintance.
“They treat us very well, and Dr. Markham is quite the gentleman, you know. But I do wish there was more to read,” replied his Elizabeth.
“I will pack up some books when I get home and send them to you,” he smiled wanly. “Miss Goulding, I understand you are to go home soon?” Bennet turned to Amy, who was sipping tea.
“Yes, I am anxious to be home again with my family. My brothers will be finishing up their studies in their respective terms, and we shall have the merriest of Christmases!” She grinned, then perhaps she thought about the Bennet’s first Christmas without Mary
as she looked at his somber face, and her smile became a frown, and she said no more.
“Your hearing, my dear, does it get better or worse?” Mr. Bennet asked as Elizabeth sat silently. He was seated on her lefthand side so he could be sure to be understood by her. Her left ear was her better ear.
“It has at least stopped getting worse, Papa. That is something.” A smile, similar to one that his old Lizzy used to project was displayed. “And I miss my hair.” She ran a hand over the short length of hair on the top of her head. In three months, it was only about an inch and a half long. “I don’t understand why the surgeon thought the need to cut it all off.”
“I know!” Miss Goulding laughed as she tilted her blond head back and forth; it shone in the light from the fire. Her hair had also been shorn.
“So there is hope for me?” piped up a voice from the sofa.
“Papa, this is Miss Catherine Parks. She is a new resident here.”
Miss Park’s head was newly shaved, yet she did not wear a lace cap to hide her baldness as most of the other residents did. Her beauty was overwhelming, even with her barren head. Mr. Bennet suddenly wished he was a younger man. They nodded their introductions.
“You are beautiful even without your locks,” Bennet could not help himself saying.
“Curious,” Miss Parks laughed, “that is what Dr. Markham says as well.”
Mr. Bennet considered asking if Miss Parks had suffered from scarlet fever as well but then realized that was too inappropriate a question. He gazed at her beautiful face a moment longer and then turned back to his daughter. He and Elizabeth returned to their discussion of family and Meryton, and he was relieved to see her come out of her quiet shell. The longer they spoke, the more he saw vestiges of his beloved Lizzy.
Later, Mr. Bennet spoke privately with Dr. Markham.
The doctor told him that he feared that Elizabeth’s remorse about the death of Mary was hindering her recovery. While her body
had completely recovered from the fever, her appetite had not returned, and she seemed little interested in her usual pursuits. The doctor discussed how, at first, he was not sure if her slow recovery had been because she had been ill longer or if it was something else. But as the weeks and months passed, it became evident that Lizzy’s spirit seemed to be fighting against her cure. While her body was rid of the fever (having damaged her ears), Dr. Markham feared that her improvement was being hampered by her desire notto improve.
Mr. Bennet remarked that he had found Elizabeth not in her usual spirits. Her nature and character weren’t the same; his old Lizzy hadn’t returned. The doctor feared that if she did not recover her usual perspective on life, she might not ever recover. He wasn’t sure how to lift her spirits, but he felt that she should remain at Priestwood Green and not return home lest homebring on additional sorrows and an even more forlorn outlook. Mr. Bennet regretfully agreed.
Once her head had been cleared of the fever, Elizabeth could only focus on her guilt at cajoling poor Mary to accompany her on that fateful trip to the Stone family farmhouse. Her sorrow at the loss of her sister was boundless. The death of any family member— having wheedled a reluctant sister to accompany her was a great weight, and Elizabeth let it consume her. But added to it was the feeling that it was herfault that Mary was dead. This made her typically lively outlook turn into an austere one. She didn’t want to recover from an illness that had taken a beloved sister. Her feelings were always intense, whether in joy, anger, outrage, or sorrow.
Mr. Bennet left his beloved child in Dr. Markham’s hands and returned home with no idea of when she would be returned to them, in body and spirit.
The Bennet family, therefore, was still uneasy about Elizabeth in December, even while they rejoiced with the Goulding family as Amy came home for Christmas.
CHAPTER TWO
Mr. Bingley returned the visit from Mr. Bennet. The women of the house only caught as much of a glimpse of the new neighbor as they could from the upper hall windows. He rode his famous black horse and stayed with Mr. Bennet above half an hour. Jane thought him attractive. Elizabeth chided her for such an observation given that her sister had scolded Lydia about only desiring a handsome man as a husband.
“But he is admirable from what I can observe. He did not wear a hat, and we were able to observe that he has a pleasing face. One does not eschew what nature has given, Lizzy,” Jane argued.
“So Catherine need not have misgivings about her beautiful face?” Elizabeth asserted, looking from one beauty to the other. Her point had been to needle Jane about not being the only beauty in Hertfordshire.
“You see Jane, neither of us needs worry about our pretty faces. We have been given a gift from God, and like all gifts, need to use it wisely,” Miss Parks declared from her place on the sofa. Jane came to sit by her and clasped a hand. “Thank you, Catherine. I sometimes feel that Mamma spends too much time talking about my face winning me a husband. But it is true that I should not be blind to the fact that it is one of the advantages I have to offer.” The two squeezed hands.
Perhaps they both felt that it was a burden as well—to be the designated beauty in their families and to have the pressure of ‘making a match,’ to better their family’s situation.
Elizabeth looked at her sister and her friend on the sofa. “I will allow you to think Mr. Bingley handsome, Jane—as you both have corrected me about handsome faces—and I am sure we will find out more about him at the Meryton ball.”
In the Bennet family, their father’s estate was entailed, and in lieu of male heirs, a distant cousin was to inherit. Their mother’s fortune of four thousand pounds did not provide sufficient income for the daughter’s dowries, and Mr. Bennet had not saved enough over the years to supplement it. The Longbourn estate provided an income of two thousand pounds a year. While Mr. Bennet lived within his means, he always thought to father a son to cut off the entail; a son who would care for and provide for his widow and daughters.
Now the burden fell on Jane, with her handsome face, to marry well. It was a duty to find a husband with a substantial income who would be pleased to have a wife with a pretty face and a small dowry. Also, to find a husband whose station in life would permit the other daughters introductions to men of equally high status and wealth.
Catherine Parks’ situation was, perhaps, more desperate. While Mrs. Bennet had found it difficult, at first, to have this guest in the house, given her beauty, Catherine’s situation at home was bordering on frightful to Elizabeth who had only known a loving home. Mr. Robert Parks was a landed gentleman with two children and hailed from an estate in Somerset of many generations. Marguerite was the oldest, and Catherine, the second daughter. His estate allowed him to leave the property to his daughters, unlike Mr. Bennet’s.
However, Mr. Parks was not a man who lived within his means and years of making poor choices left him with little choice but to retrench. At the unpopular advice of his attorney, Mr. Parks leased out his family estate, St. Gregory’s Abbas, and moved to Bath. Shortly after their move, Catherine had contracted brain fever and had been removed to Priestwood Green to recover. It was one time where her father’s habit of ‘damn the expense now, we must have it!’ proved to be a wise choice; it had probably saved her life.
Between Catherine and Elizabeth, there formed a close friendship. In Catherine, Elizabeth found a reason to hope and to live. For it was in Catherine’s nature to keep carrying on, no matter the circumstances. She encouraged Elizabeth to continue on and find new strength each day, despite the loss of her sister Mary and her limited hearing.
In Elizabeth, Catherine found a love of family that she did not have at home. Catherine’s mother had died shortly after her birth, which had left her father a bitter man and her sister melancholy and lonely. Marguerite was seven years older, which made for a sister who was more of a mother figure than a companion. Not that they did not share in each other’s joys and sorrows, but the age difference had not allowed for the closeness that Elizabeth enjoyed with Jane and Mary, or with Katherine and Lydia.
The Bennet family had slowly been encouraged as letters from Elizabeth, which had been almost unheard of before Christmas, started to list people and places again rather than to give simple health updates. And as was her nature, Lizzy began to comment on the idiosyncrasies of the people around her; she began to observe again as she began to heal.
By the end of February, Dr. Markham felt that Elizabeth was safely on the road to a full recovery. When it became apparent that Miss Parks’ fever had severely diminished her eyesight—though many people referred to her as being blind—a solution needed to be found.
And so, Miss Bennet and Miss Parks agreed to be each other’s eyes and ears. It was a far better solution than hiring a companion or servant to help either woman. They left Priestwood Green together to visit Miss Parks’ family in Bath in the spring. And in early July, Elizabeth Bennet finally came home to her family, bringing her friend with her.
The Meryton assembly was to be the first local gathering in over a year, and the whole neighborhood was looking forward to it with eagerness. Many young ladies purchased new gowns and
eagerly perused fashion plates in an attempt to discern the latest hairstyles.
All of the principal families were in attendance at the assembly. Sir William Lucas stood at the doors in his role as an unofficial spokesman for the town. The Bennet family made their way slowly into the room as Mrs. Bennet had to greet every lady as she exclaimed over new fashions, ribbon, or lace, or patted hands or elbows in sympathy.
Elizabeth wore lavender while the rest of her sisters had moved out of mourning colors. While she had resided at Priestwood Green in the ravages of the fever or during her recovery, she had not worn mourning. She made up for mourning Mary now. She thought that her family was too ready to move back into society and were forgetting that they were one daughter short.
Keeping a solid hold of Catherine’s arm, the two friends walked farther into the hall to find seats. Neither one contemplated dancing; Miss Parks because she could not see well enough, and Elizabeth because she considered herself in mourning. They secured seats that afforded them a good view of the dance floor and the layout of the assembly room.
Mrs. Bennet and the rest of her family stayed near the entrance anticipating the arrival of Mr. Bingley who was being considered the guest of honor. Her wait was soon rewarded.
He was a handsome man, as the fathers in the room had known, and their stealthy daughters had discovered. Bingley had dark blond hair and greenish-gray eyes that twinkled, a characteristic which was discernible even across the room. In attendance with him was his sister, Miss Bingley. She was a fashionable woman who purchased clothes and accessories only at the best London shops and wore an exquisitely cut gown. Their other sister, Mrs. Hurst, was also fashionably attired. The eyes of the women in the hall drank in every detail on both of their gowns, from the cut of the bodice and the sleeves, to the details of the ribbon and lace. Mr. Hurst looked gentlemanly enough, but there was also another young man that no one had heard about. No one knew that
Mr. Bingley had another staying with him until the man walked in the room; Bingley introduced him as ‘my friend Darcy.’
Mr. Darcy was tall with dark hair and eyes and was more handsome than his friend. A report shot through the room within minutes of his introduction of his having a large estate in Derbyshire and of being extremely rich. Suddenly, all the women in the room turned their eyes from the lace on Caroline Bingley’s gown to observations of this wealthy gentleman. He was admired openly by maid and matron alike.
Mr. Bingley made his way around the room, with Sir William as his host, to meet all the principal people and left his friend to his own devices. Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy strolled around the room until they were not too far from where Elizabeth and Catherine Parks sat. The couple did not attempt to follow Bingley, though his married sister and her husband trailed behind him.
When the music began, Mr. Bingley led Maria Lucas onto the floor. Maria was now the oldest Lucas daughter with the passing of Charlotte. Where Charlotte had been plain, Maria was plump and pretty with golden curls. She was sweet and amiable, but emptyheaded. The sisters had been an interesting contrast. Charlotte was plain but intelligent and well-read; Maria was pretty, but not interested in things beyond gowns and gossip. At least John Lucas, the oldest son and heir, did not need to worry that Maria would become an old maid and burden him with her keep.
As soon as their sets were finished, Bingley released Maria to her mother, Lady Lucas, and descended on the Bennet family. “Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Katherine, Miss Lydia.” He bowed to each woman in turn. The women curtsied. “Miss Bennet, if you are free, would you care to dance with me?” Mr. Bingley turned and held out his hand to Jane. She nodded and smiled gently before he led her to the floor.
“Oh, my dears! Did you see that?” Mrs. Bennet called out far too loudly. “He singled out Jane right after he did the obligation dance with Maria Lucas. I do wonder that he doesn’t fancy her, well, how could he not!” She spotted Mrs. Long sitting with her two nieces and rushed to them to express her satisfaction over the event.
Elizabeth saw the exchange from her seat across the floor and huffed under her breath.
“What is happening, Lizzy? You promised to be my eyes, but have not been keeping up with your duties! Speak up, my dear; tell me what is going on. Is it your mother?” Miss Parks teased as she stroked her friend’s arm and peered unsuccessfully across the room. Her limited eyesight only presented her with blurred shapes. She could distinguish figures across the hall, but not faces or details.
“Yes, it is my mother. It seems that Mr. Bingley has ventured to ask Jane to dance, and my mother is going around the room gloating about it. I dare say she is already asserting that he admires her, knowing my mother!”
Elizabeth could not keep her eyes off of Mrs. Bennet who spoke with animation to Mrs. Long (who was looking a bit weary); however, her two nieces, a Miss Summers, and a Miss Long appeared to enjoy listening to what she had to say.
“It does sound like something your mother would do, but we do not have to speak about her. Be my eyes, please. Tell me what else is going on in the room.” Catherine playfully slapped her friend on the arm.
“There is a dance going on, and I do not understand why people are dancing,” Elizabeth replied, suddenly feeling disheartened as her face fell, her eyes sad.
“No, Lizzy, this will not do; you cannot be melancholy. Dr. Markham and I will not allow it. We know there is a dance, but use those powers of observation that I know you have and tell me what people are doing. How are they interacting? What else besides dancing is going on? Is there any intrigue?” A smile played across her face, “do any couples look to be in love? Has anyone snuck outside for ‘fresh air’ yet?”
Elizabeth tore her eyes away from her mother, scrunched them closed tightly, and then reopened them. The ballroom appeared anew to her. Instead of seeing her mother and Mrs. Bennet’s machinations, it was a stage, set for a play, and she must describe the scenery and action for her friend.
“Sixteen couples are dancing in the center of the room. I see Miss Goulding is dancing with John Lucas. We all grew up together and used to hate him as he teased us and would pull our plaits. I once pushed him in the mud for it.” Elizabeth smiled at that memory. “We shall have to get Amy to sit and chat with us when she is free.”
“Mr. Bingley is dancing with Jane, as you know,” she continued. “His sister, the married one, is dancing with her husband. That other young man is dancing with the other sister. They look so solemn as they dance; neither appears to be speaking to the other, nor do they appear to be speaking to the other couples. I fear they are not enjoying themselves and suspect that they think they are above such company as ours, being fashionable people.”
Elizabeth looked from the dancers to the crowd at the outside edge of the room. “Lady Lucas is sitting with Maria, and one of Mrs. Long’s nieces has joined her, though I am not sure which one it is. I often get them confused, which is odd since they are cousins and not sisters.” She paused as she continued to look around. “Mrs. Brown and her elderly mother are both twitching their fingers in time to the music. I suspect that they both loved to dance when they were younger. Cameron Goulding is sneaking out the side door and off to perform some prank. It seems early in the evening to be getting up to no good.” She smiled as she was quite familiar with the pranks that the youngest Goulding son had played in the past.
Elizabeth kept up a commentary about the couples on the dance floor and the habits of the watchers on the sides. Lydia drifted over, having grown tired of hearing her mother effuse about Jane and Bingley even when he had returned Miss Bennet to her mother and asked Miss Mary King for a turn on the floor.
“Lizzy, have you noticed that tall man, Mr. Darcy, and Bingley’s sisters?” Lydia asked, leaning across her sister so she could hisswhisper in her good ear.
“Is that Mr. Bingley’s friend, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Parks inquired.
“Yes. The married sister is Mrs. Hurst, and her husband is the short man,” Lydia explained. “Well, Mr. Darcy, and the unmarried sister, Miss Bingley, have practically declined to be introduced to
anybody—what do you think about that!” She grinned as if she were imparting the greatest secret.
“I suspected they thought themselves above their company,” remarked Elizabeth. “I watched the two of them dance. They did not once speak to the other couples and seemed rarely to speak to each other.” She and Lydia glanced at the offending couple who were across the room next to the two Mrs. Browns. Miss Bingley was looking at old Mrs. Brown with her twitching hands and happy smile as if she were some odd form of human she had never encountered. The young lady said something to Mr. Darcy, and they moved on.
“You see, she seems the greatest snob, don’t you think?” Lydia announced with obvious enjoyment at the spectacle of a couple who were ‘above their company.’ Elizabeth shushed her sister.
“What happened, what did you see?” demanded Catherine Parks in a whisper.
“Miss Bingley was standing in front of old Mrs. Brown and looked down at her as if she were a mongrel dog, and then she and Mr. Darcy moved on,” Elizabeth explained. Somehow, describing it made it feel cheap, and she felt sorry to involve good Mrs. Brown in any form of gossip. She looked at Catherine’s arm entwined with her own and felt ashamed.
“Look at them now! Sir William has tackled them. Knowing him, he is going to want to introduce them to everybody,” squealed Lydia with more excitement.
“Shush, Lydia.” Elizabeth could not help ordering more loudly than she intended.
“Mr. Darcy has snubbed him!” Lydia called out. “He simply turned around and walked off! Miss Bingley is being led out to the floor by Mr. James Goulding. I suppose she couldn’t refuse his hand.”
Elizabeth watched as Mr. Darcy walked over to where Mr. and Mrs. Hurst were engaged with the Watson family. “Apparently, that man, Mr. Darcy, has asked Mrs. Hurst to dance as they are coming out onto the floor now,” she added for Miss Parks’ benefit.
They watched the couples dance, and Elizabeth kept up her commentary. Lydia lamented that she was not allowed to dance yet as she watched Katherine on the floor with an awkward Philip Lucas
who, at sixteen, would rather have been outside pulling pranks with Cameron Goulding than being a younger statesman at his father’s insistence. When the dance ended, Kitty came to collect Lydia, and the two ran off to seek refreshment.
The next set of dances caused a stir in the assembly room as Mr. Bingley asked Jane to dance a second time. Mrs. Bennet made a circuit of the entire hall to ensure that every matron knew of her good fortune. Mrs. Bennet’s sister, Mrs. Philips, shared in that prosperity, but the other families of Meryton began to feel that the Bennet family was enjoying too much attention from the guest of honor, especially since the other new residents of Netherfield were not socializing as much as expected.
Mr. Bingley, during a brief interval, came from the dance in an attempt to encourage his friend to join it.
“Come, Darcy,” he declared, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this senseless manner. You had much better dance!”
“I certainly shall not. You know I detest it unless I am acquainted with my partner. At such a country assembly as this, it would be insufferable and a punishment to stand up with any woman here,” protested his friend.
“How can you be so difficult?” cried Bingley. “Upon my honor, I have never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; several of them are, you see, uncommonly pretty.”
“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” Darcy remarked, looking at Jane who waited for Bingley to return.
“She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But Miss Bennet pointed out one of her sisters who is sitting down just there, behind you. She is also very pretty, and I dare say, very agreeable. Let me ask my partner to introduce you.” Bingley indicated Elizabeth sitting next to Miss Parks with a slight tilt of his head.
“Which do you mean?” Darcy turned and looked for a moment at Elizabeth Bennet, and then at Catherine Parks, who while she could not catch Mr. Darcy’s eyes directly, could at least stare in his general direction—enough to make him turn his gaze from her and
her friend. Elizabeth looked from one gentleman to the other, but in evident frustration at not being able to follow the conversation.
“She is acceptable, but not attractive enough to tempt me, and I have no patience to give a young lady a sense of importance, when other men have obviously slighted her. Return to your pretty partner, for you are wasting your time with me,” sneered Darcy and walked off.
Catherine Parks sat in silence after this communication. While she was sure that Elizabeth would normally find such a story ridiculous, and one to add to her collection of human eccentricities and quirks, Catherine worried that because Elizabeth had been the subjectof the exchange, she might not find Mr. Darcy’s slight at her expense amusing. It had been obvious that her friend had not heard the retort since Lizzy had not reacted with her usual wit to the men’s exchange but had watched with a look of concentration and frustration since she could not understand them.
Amy Goulding startled the pair. Catherine from her worries about her friend, and Elizabeth (who had been watching her sister and Mr. Bingley dance), from interest in the couple. Amy sat down next to them, and the three short-cropped women caught up on recent happenings. Their hair was long enough that they were able to pull it back and trim it with ribbon. They giggled more than was typical of their nature about the extra time they had spent on their hair that evening, attempting to tame it into some sort of shape.
When their dance ended, Jane brought Mr. Bingley over to introduce him to Elizabeth and Miss Parks. He declared how delighted he was to meet them both. “May I solicit the honor of a dance, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked with great courtesy.
“I am sorry, sir, but I am afraid I am in mourning and do not dance,” she answered looking intently at him, as if daring him to refute her right to wear mourning when Jane was not. Bingley looked startled at this statement and glanced at Jane, seated now by her sister, who merely smiled.
“Miss Parks, may I have the honor of your hand for the next set of dances?” he asked, holding out his gloved hand with a little bow.
“I am afraid, sir, that I do not dance.” Catherine looked up at him with a blank face and offered no other explanation. She did not feel that she wished to explain about her eyesight to a new acquaintance.
“Oh,” Bingley could not help uttering as he dropped his hand. He turned to Miss Goulding, with whom he had already had one dance. “Miss Goulding, are you free for another dance?”
“Thank you, sir, but I do not care to dance again.” Amy squeezed Catherine’s as she smiled up at his now pained face. Jane Bennet felt genuinely sorry for him. Bingley looked down the row of four women in bewilderment as if he had never encountered such a thing as three rejections in such a short space of time. He rested his glance on Jane whose eyes shone with sympathy and even admiration (or as much admiration as can blossom on a dance floor during two dance sets).
He seemed on the verge of scandalizing the neighborhood and asking Miss Jane Bennet for a third set of dances when Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley came up beside him.
“Our carriage is here,” remarked Mr. Darcy dryly.
“But the ball is not over!” protested Bingley, turning. “There are still two sets left!”
“Apparently there was some mix-up with the carriages, and ours got called early; we may as well go.” Darcy turned to leave without acknowledging the women.
“Caroline, you must meet Miss Bennet, her sister, and friends,” Mr. Bingley insisted, clasping his sister’s arm and bringing her to face the row of women. Miss Bingley looked a little irritated but stepped forward.
Introductions were made all around, and Miss Bingley was a little surprised to have hit on the four most intelligent women in the room in one place. To find pleasing manners and thoughtful conversation in a country assembly room was undoubtedly a surprise to her and made her think that perhaps this venture of her brothers to the countryside might not be too tedious.
Mr. Darcy was waiting at the door with Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, so their conversation was, by necessity, brief. She and her brother then
made their way to the door, saying their goodbyes along the way, and left the assembly hall.
CHAPTER THREE
Mrs. Bennet could not wait to acquaint her husband with their good fortune and returned to Longbourn in animated spirits to relate the news from the assembly. Mr. Bennet was still awake in his study with paperwork in hand. He had a good deal of curiosity about the evening and whether Mr. Bingley had met everyone’s expectations, especially his wife’s.
“Oh, my dear Mr. Bennet,” she cried as she entered the room, “we have had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball! Jane was so admired; everybody said how well she looked. Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful and danced with her twice. Only think of that, my dear, he actually danced with her twice! I am quite taken with him; he is excessively handsome! And his sisters have the most elegant taste in fashion. I dare say the lace upon Mrs. Hurst’s gown —”
Mr. Bennet protested against any description of finery. Mrs. Bennet switched subjects and mentioned Mr. Bingley’s friend and launched into a diatribe against Mr. Darcy. Though he might be handsome and rich and own an excellent estate in Derbyshire, he had proven himself to be disagreeable and rude by refusing to dance with any of the local ladies. Mrs. Bennet was as passionate in her dislike of the one gentleman as she was in her delight of the other.
The Bennet daughters and their friend crowded into Elizabeth’s room in their nightgowns, pin curls, and caps. Lydia immediately pounced on Jane about Mr. Bingley.
“Oh Jane, you were quite the belle of the ball! Think of it, Mr. Bingley asked you to dance twice!” She held her hand up to her forehead and pretended to swoon back onto the crowded bed. All but Jane tittered.
“He is quite an agreeable young man, sensible, amiable, and lively. And with such good manners!” Jane asserted. “I quite admire him.” She was sitting at Elizabeth and Catherine’s feet with the two youngest Bennet sisters next to her.
“This is not quite like you, Jane. You are normally more guarded about your views or feelings of others,” remarked Elizabeth. “At least, not in sharing them so openly.”
“I think, perhaps.” Jane paused in an attempt to figure out how to express her thoughts without bringing up past sorrows. “In the past year, I have learned to be less cautious.”
“He is also very handsome,” offered her sister, Katherine, “which must certainly help. I am sure he would not be quite so agreeableif he were not quite so handsome.” Her eyes twinkled.
“I was flattered by his asking me to dance a second time,” admitted Jane.
“What could be more natural than his asking you a second time,” exclaimed Catherine Parks. “I am sure he could not help but see you were the prettiest woman in the room.”
“Only because Miss Parks was hidden away,” asserted Kitty. “I still think you might be able to dance Catherine.”
“I think my dancing days are over unless there is a dance where my partner holds onto me the entire time and can guide me around the floor,” Catherine suggested with a wicked smile on her face. The Bennet daughters all gasped in shock at the idea of a dance that involved more than the touching of gloved hands.
“And I don’t think we need to argue about who is prettier than whom. I am sure that it is wearing enough when Mamma speaks of it,” Jane declared. They all agreed not to bring it up again.
“I am sure my dancing days are over as well. I still cannot fathom that Meryton society is ready to return to its routine of balls and assemblies,” said a piqued Elizabeth.
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Highlander, 462
Hilda No. 5, 462
Hillside, 462
Hilltop, 462
Hilman, 462
Hinckley, M. E., var. orig. by, 490, 515
Hinckley (syn. of Miner), 281
Hinkley, 462
Hlubeck Aprikosenpflaume, 462
Hoag’s Seedling, 462
Hoffman, 462
Hoffman, Ernest, var. orig. by, 533
Hofinger Mirabelle, 462
Hofinger’s Rote Mirabelle (syn. of Hofinger Mirabelle), 462
Hog, 462
Hogg, John A., quoted, 200, 260, 363, 364, 432; var. orig. by, 432
Hog Plum, 59
Hoheitspflaume (syn. of Imperatrice), 249
Hoheits Pflaume (syn. of Red Diaper), 323
Holister (syn. of Hollister), 463
Holister, var. orig. by, 463
Holland, 462, 463
Holland Plum; Holland Prune (syns. of Holland), 462
Hollister, 463
Holman, D. S., var. orig. by, 463
Holman Prune, 463
Holme, 463
Holmes Early Blue (syn. of Holme), 463
Holt, B. J., var. orig. by, 463
Holt, 463
Holton, Warren, var. orig. by, 442
Homestead, 463
Honey, 463
Honey Drop (syn. of Golden Beauty), 226
Honey Grove (syn. of Sanders), 538
Honey Julian, 463
Honsmomo (syn. of Berger, 160; of Satsuma, 337)
Hon-smomo (syn. of Chabot), 172
Hoo Green Gage, 463
Hooker, quoted, 37
Hoosier, 463
Horemoritzer Reine Claude, 463
Horrigan, 463
Horse, 464
Horse Gage (syn. of Horse Jag), 464
Horse Jag, 464
Horse Plum, 59
Horse Plum (syn. of Horse), 464
Hoskins, 464
Hoskins, var. orig. by, 464
Houston County, 464
Hovey, C. M., quoted, 167, 229
How, Hall J., var. orig. by, 464
Howard, 464
Howard’s Favorite (syn. of Howard), 464
Howe, 464
Howell, 465
Howell’s Early (syn. of Howell), 465
Howell’s Large (syn. of Nectarine, 291; of Peach, 309)
Howel’s (syn. of Nectarine), 291
How Amber, 464
How’s Amber (syn. of How Amber), 464
Hoyo Smomo, 465
Hoyt, R. D., var. orig. by, 446
H. T. S. 84,761, 465
Huankume, 465
Hudson, 243
Hudson, quoted, 93
Hudson; Hudson Gage; Hudson’s gelbe Frühpflaume (syns. of Hudson Gage), 465
Hudson Gage, 465
Hudson River Purple; Hudson River Purple Egg (syns. of Hudson), 243
Hughes, 465
Hughes Late (syn. of Tecumseh), 552
Hulings, 245
Huling’s Reine Claude (syn. of Reine Claude), 327
Huling’s Reine-Claudia (syn. of Reine Claude), 327
Huling’s Superb (syn. of Hulings), 245
Hungarian, 245
Hungarian (syn. of Pond), 314
Hungarian (syn. of Ungarish), 361
Hungarian Date (syn. of Hungarian), 246
Hungarian Musk Prune, 465
Hungarian No. 1, 465
Hungarian No. 2, 466
Hungarian Plum (syn. of Hungarian), 246
Hungarian Prune (syn. of Hungarian, 246; of Pond, 314; of Ungarish, 361)
Hungarica (syn. of Hungarian), 246
Hungary (syn. of Ungarish), 361
Hunn, 466
Hunt, 466
Hunt, Henry, var. orig. by, 466
Hunt, R. A., var. orig. by, 491
Hunt De Soto, 466
Hunt’s De Soto (syn. of Hunt De Soto), 466
Hyacinth; Hyacinthe Pflaume (syns. of Jacinthe), 471
Hytankayo (syn. of Abundance), 136
Hytankayo (syn. of Chabot), 172
Hytankayo (syn. of Red June), 324
Hytan-Kayo (syn. of Kerr), 259
Hytankio (syn. of Kerr), 259
Ickworth, 247
Ickworth Imperatrice (syn. of Ickworth), 247
Ida, 466
Ida Gage; Ida Green Gage (syns. of Reine Claude), 327
Ida Green Gage, 466
Idal (syn. of Idall), 466
Idall, 466
Idol (syn. of Idall), 466
Ienua (syn. of Date), 428
Ilevert; Ile Vert; Ile vert; Ille verte; Illvert (syns. of Isle-Verte), 470
Illinois Ironclad (syn. of Ironclad), 469
Illinois Plum (syn. of Langsdon), 479
Impératrice, 248
Impératrice (syn. of Red Diaper), 323
Impératrice; Impératrice Blue; Impératrice Violette (syns. of Impératrice), 249
Impératrice Blanche (syn. of White Impératrice), 375
Impératrice group, 33
Impératrice Ickworth (syn. of Ickworth), 247
Impératrice Jaune (syn. of Yellow Impératrice), 569
Impératrice Jckworth (syn. of Ickworth), 247
Impératrice Violette (syn. of German Prune), 219
Impératrice Violette Grosse (syn. of German Prune), 219
Imperial (syn. of Red Magnum Bonum), 325
Imperial, 466
Imperial Blanc; Imperiale Blanche; (syns. of Yellow Egg), 386
Imperial de Sharp (syn. of Sharp, 340; of Victoria, 363)
Imperial Diadem; Imperial Diademe (syns. of Red Diaper), 323
Imperial Jaune (syn. of Weisse Kaiserin), 563
Imperial Epineuse, 250
Imperial Epineux (syn. of Imperial Epineuse), 250
Imperial Gage, 251
Imperial Gage (syn. of Washington), 368
Imperial Gage; Imperial Green Gage (syns. of Imperial Gage), 251
Imperial jaune (syn. of Yellow Imperial), 569
Imperiall (syn. of Red Magnum Bonum), 325
Imperial Ottoman, 467
Imperial Ottoman (syn. of Imperial Ottoman), 467
Imperial Purple, 467
Imperial Purple (syn. of Imperial Purple), 467
Imperial Rouge; Imperial Violet (syns. of Red Magnum Bonum), 325
Imperial Violet, 467
Imperial Washington, 467
Impériale (syn. of Red Magnum Bonum), 325
Impériale Alexandrina, 466
Impériale à Petit Fruit Violet (syn. of Imperial Violet), 467
Impériale Blanche (syn. of Quetsch, Dr. Létricourt, 524; of Yellow Egg, 386)
Impériale de Mann (syn. of Brandy Gage), 408
Impériale de Milan, 467
Impériale Ottomane (syn. of Imperial Ottoman), 467
Imperiale de Sharp (syn. of Sharp), 340
Impériale de Turquie (syn. of Imperial Ottoman), 467
Impériale Hâtive (syn. of Red Magnum Bonum), 325
Impériale jaune (syn. of Yellow Imperial), 569
Impériale Rouge; Impériale Violette (syns. of Red Magnum Bonum), 325
Impériale Violette (syn. of Violet Imperial), 559
Impériale Violette à feuilles panachees (syn. of Imperial Violet), 467
Improved French Prune, 467
Incomparable, 467
Incomparable de Lucombe (syn. of Lucombe), 271
Incomparable Prune (syn. of Incomparable), 467
Indian, 468
Indian Chief, 468
Indiana, 468
Indiana Red (syn. of Indiana), 468
Infertility, causes of, in plums, 110-112
Inkpa, 468
Inselpflaume Grüne (syn. of Isle-Verte), 470
Iola, 468
Iona, 468
Iowa, 468
Iowa Beauty, 468
Irby, 468
Irby September (syn. of Irby), 468
Ireland, 469
Ireland Golden, 469
Ireland’s Golden Gage (syn. of Ireland Golden), 469
Ireland’s Seedling (syn. of Ireland), 469
Irene, 469
Iris, 469
Irish Horse Plum (syn. of Horse), 464
Ironclad, 469
Iroquois, 469
Irving’s Bolmar or Bolmer (syns. of Washington), 368
Isaac, 469
Isabel (syn. of Miner), 281
Isabella, 469
Isle Vert; Isle Verte (syns. of Isle-Verte), 470
Isle-Verte, 469
Isleworth Green Gage (syn. of Reine Claude), 327
Italian Damask, 470
Italian Damask (syn. of Morocco, 288; of Orleans, 302)
Italian Guetsche (syn. of Italian Prune), 253
Italianische blanc Zwetsche, blaue Zwetsche, Zwetsche; Italian Prune or Quetsche; Italienische Zwetsche (syns. of Italian Prune), 253
Italienische Damascene (Diel’s), 470
Italienische Damascene (Liegel’s), 470
Italienische Blaue Zwetsche or Pflaumen Zwetsche (syns. of Italian Prune), 253
Italian Prune, 252
Italienische Grüne Zwetsche (syn. of Quetsche Verte D’Italie), 525
Itasca (syn. of Aitkin), 140
Itasca, 470
Itaska (syn. of Itasca), 470
Ithaca, 470
Ivason, 470
Ives, 470
Ives, J. M., var. orig. by, 470
Ives Damson (syn. of Ives), 470
Ive’s Seedling (syn. of Ives), 470
Ive’s Washington (syn. of Ives), 470
Ives’ Washington Seedling (syn. of Ives), 470
Jacinthe (syn. of Jacinthe), 471
Jacinthe, 471
Jackson? (syn. of Rigny, 532; of Washington, 368)
Jacob, 471
Jacobi Zwetsche (syn. of Large Sugar Prune), 480
Jahns Gelbe Jerusalems-Pflaume (syn. of Yellow Jerusalem), 569
Jahn’s Jerusalems Pflaume (syn. of Yellow Jerusalem), 569
Jakobs Pflaume (syn. of Damson), 186
James Vick (syn. of Vick), 559
Jamin, var. orig. by, 187
Japan Blood Plum (syn. of Satsuma), 337
Japanese Plum Seedling, 471
Japanese Seedling X (syn. of Japex), 255
Japan Hybrid No. 3 (syn. of Ames), 144
Japan No. 1, 471
Japan No. 3, 471
Japan Hybrid No. 2 (a), 471
Japan Hybrid No. 2 (b), 471
Japex, 255
Jap No. 4, 471
Jaspisartige Pflaume, 471
Jaune de Bleeker (syn. of Bleeker), 163
Jaune de Catalogne (syn. of Early Yellow), 203
Jaune de Jerusalem (syn. of Gelbe Jerusalempflaume), 450
Jaune de Monsieur (syn. of Yellow Impératrice), 569
Jaune de Reizenstein (syn. of Reizenstein Yellow Prune), 531
Jaune d’Este, 471
Jaune Hâtive (syn. of Early Yellow), 203
Jaune précoce (syn. of Early Yellow), 203
Jaune Tardive, 471
Jaune Tres Hâtive Baboud, 471
Jckworth Imperatrice (syn. of Ickworth), 247
Jean d’Este (syn. of Jaune d’Este), 471
Jean Hâtive (syn. of Early Yellow), 203
Jean Morceau, 472
Jean Morceau (syn. of Stoneless), 353
Jean White (syn. of Early Yellow), 203
Jefferson, 255
Jemmy Moore (syn. of Denbigh), 430
Jenkins, J. H. G., var. orig. by, 448
Jenkin’s Imperial (syn. of Nectarine, 291; of Peach, 309)
Jenkinson’s Imperial (syn. of Imperial Gage), 251
Jennie Lucas, 472
Jerusalem, 472
Jerusalem (syn. of Jerusalem), 472
Jerusalem Jaune (syn. of Yellow Jerusalem), 569
Jessie, 472
Jewell, 472
J (syn. of Hale), 237
J. B. Rue (syn. of Rue), 536
J. H. Rue, 472
Jodoigne, 472
Jodoigne Green Gage (syn. of Jodoigne), 472
Joe Hooker, 473
Johannispflaume (syn. of Noire de Montreuil), 504
John A, 473
Johnny Roe, 473
John’s Gelbe Jerusalems-Pflaume (syn. of Yellow Jerusalem), 569
Johnson, Franklin, var. orig. by, 548
Johnson, J. E., var. orig. by, 362
Jones, 473
Jones, Herbert A., var. orig. by, 452
Jones, Mrs. Owen, var. orig. by, 473
Jones Late, 473
Jordan, F., var. orig. by, 473
Jordan Seedling, 473
Josselyn, John, quoted, 20
J. Parks, 473
Judson, 473
Juicy, 257
Julia, 473
Julian, 473
Julien Gros à Feuilles Panachees, 473
Juli Reine-Claude; Julius Reine-Claude (syns. of July Green Gage), 474
July Fourth, 473
July Green Gage, 473
July Green Gage (syn. of July Green Gage), 474
Jumelles, 474
Jumelles de Liegel, 474
Jumelles de Liegel (syn. of Jumelles de Liegel), 474
Kaga, 474
Kaiser Von Japan (syn. of Emperor of Japan), 443
Kaiser Wilhelm, 474
Kalm, Peter, quoted, 20
Kampeska, 474
Kanawha, 474
Karl Koch’s Königs Pflaume (syn. of Koch Königspflaume), 477
Kazan, 474
Keindl’s Violette Königspflaume (syn. of Royale Violette de Keindl), 535
Keindt, 475
Keindt’s Frühdamascene (syn. of Keindt), 475
Keindt’s Violette Königspflaume (syn. of Royale Violette de Keindl), 535
Keith, 475
Keiser (syn. of Hulings), 245
Kelley, 475
Kelbalan, 475
Kelmyro, 475
Kelroba, 475
Kelsaw, 475
Kelsey, 258
Kelsey No. 1 (syn. of Kelmyro), 475
Kelsey No. 2 (syn. of Kelroba), 475
Kelsey No. 3 (syn. of Kelbalan), 475
Kelsey Prune, 475
Kelsey’s Japan (syn. of Kelsey), 258
Kelso, 475
Kenellan, 475
Kennedy Red, 475
Kensington Prune (syn. of Holland), 462
Kent, 475
Kentish Bush (syn. of Kent), 476
Kentish Diamond (syn. of Diamond), 191
Kenyon, 476
Kerr, 259
Kerr, J. W., life of, 349-350; quoted, 98, 115, 118, 171, 422, 495, 508; var. orig. by, 349, 418, 446, 492, 501, 559, 562
Kester Green Gage, 476
Kester’s Green Gage (syn. of Kester Green Gage), 476
Kester’s Yellow Gage (syn. of Kester Yellow Gage), 476
Kester Yellow Gage, 476
Keyser, var. orig. by, 245
Keyser’s Plum (syn. of Hulings), 245
Kibitzenei (syn. of Small Reine Claude), 347
Kicab, 476
Kickapoo, 476
Kieth (syn. of Keith), 475
Kilpatrick, E. W., var. orig. by, 485
King, 476
King Damson, 259
King of Damsons (syn. of King Damson), 259
King of Plums (syn. of Golden Drop, 229; of Reine Claude, 327)
King of Plums (syn. of King), 476
Kings Plum (syn. of Royal), 534
Kings Plum of Tours (syn. of Royal Tours), 332
Kingston (syn. of Diamond), 191
Kingston, 476
Kirchhof’s Pflaume (syn. of Capitaine Kirchhof), 414
Kirke, 260
Kirke (syn. of Kirke), 260
Kirke’s; Kirke’s Pflaume; Kirke’s Plum; Kirk’s Plum (syns. of Kirke), 260
Kirke’s Stoneless (syn. of Stoneless), 353
Kirschpflaume (syn. of Myrobalan), 290
Kladrauer Pflaume (syn. of Large Sugar Prune), 480
Klein Weisse Damassener Pflaume (syn. of Small White Damson), 544
Kleine Blaue Frühzwetsche, 476
Kleine Blaue Julians Pflaume (syn. of Damson, 186; of Saint Julien, 335)
Kleine Brisette (syn. of Late Mirabelle), 263
Kleine Dauphine (syn. of Small Reine Claude), 347
Kleine Gelbe Eierpflaume, 476
Kleine gelbe Früh Pflaume (syn. of Early Yellow), 203
Kleine Grüne Reine-Claude (syn. of Small Reine Claude), 347
Kleine Kirschpflaume, 476
Kleine Kirschpflaume (syn. of Myrobalan), 290
Kleine Kirsch Pflaume (syn. of Rote Mirabelle), 533
Kleine Mirabelle (syn. of Mirabelle), 284
Kleine Reine-Claude (syn. of Small Reine Claude), 347
Kleine Rosspauke, 476
Kleine Weisse Damascene (syn. of Small Reine Claude, 347; of Small White Damson, 544)
Kleine Zucker Zwetsche (syn. of Petite Quetsche Sucrée), 515
Kleinste Mirabelle (syn. of Mirabelle), 284
Klondike, 477
Klondyke (syn. of Klondike), 477
Knevett’s Late Orleans (syn. of Nelson), 503
Kniedsen’s Peach (syn. of Knudson), 477
Knight, var. orig. by, 248, 436, 479
Knight’s Green Drying, Large Drying or Large Green Drying (syns. of Large Green Drying), 479
Knight’s No. 6 (syn. of Ickworth), 247
Knudson, 477
Knudson, H., var. orig. by, 182, 422, 460, 462, 463, 477, 496
Knudson’s Peach (syn. of Knudson), 477
Koa, 477
Koa’s Imperial (syn. of Koa), 477
Kober, 477
Koch, quoted, 17, 18
Koch’s Gelbe Spät Damascene (syn. of Koch Späte Damascene), 477
Koch Königspflaume, 477
Koch Späte Damascene, 477
Koch’s Späte Aprikosen; Koch’s Späte Damascene (syns. of Koch Späte Damascene), 477
Koepher, 477
Koetsche (syn. of German Prune), 219
Kohlenkamp, 477
Kohlenkamp, W., var. orig. by, 477
Kohlen Kamp (syn. of Kohlenkamp), 477
Königin Claudia or Klaudia (syns. of Reine Claude), 327
Königin der Mirabellen (syn. of Reine des Mirabelles), 530
Königin Mutter (syn. of Queen Mother), 522
Königin Victoria (syn. of Victoria), 363
Königin von Tours (syn. of Royal Tours), 332
Königliche Grosse Pflaume; Königliche Pflaume von Tours; Königs Pflaume; Königspflaume von Tours (syns. of Royal Tours), 332
Königspflaume (syn. of Early Orleans), 198
Königspflaume (syn. of Royal), 534
Königs Pflaume aus Paris; Königspflaume von Paris (syns. of Perdrigon Tardif), 515
Königspflaume Frühe (syn. of Royale Hâtive de Liegel), 535
Königs Pflaume von Maugerou (syn. of Maugeron), 492
Königspflaume von Trapp’s (syn. of Trapps Königspflaume), 555
König Zwetsche (syn. of Trauttenberg), 555
Kook, var. orig. by, 432
Kook’s Gelbe Diaprée; Kooks Neue Diapre (syn. of Diaprée Nouvelle De Kook), 432
Kopp, 477
Korai, 478
K. P. 193 (syn. of Purple-leaved Hybrid), 521
Krasnaya osimaya (syn. of Red Winter), 529
Krasnaya Skorospielkaya (syn. of Early Red), 440
Kreger (syn. of Danish Damson), 428
Kreke (syn. of Damson), 186
Kreuters Zwetsche (syn. of Quetsche de Kreuter), 523
Krieche (syn. of Damson), 186
Krieke (syn. of Gemeiner Gelbe Spilling), 451
Kroh, P. H., var. orig. by, 316
Kroh (syn. of Poole Pride), 315
Kroos-Pruim, 478
Krueger (syn. of Danish Damson), 428
Kruger’s Seedling (syn. of Cruger Scarlet), 424
Kuchen Pflaume (syn. of Frankfort Peach), 447
Kume, 478
La Bonne Deux Fois l’An (syn. of Venetianische Zweimal Tragende), 558
La Bricette (syn. of Late Mirabelle), 263
La Courbon (syn. of Red Diaper), 323
La Delicieuse (syn. of Cooper, 423; of Smith Orleans, 348)
La Duc (syn. of Le Duc), 483
La Grosse Reine-Claude (syn. of Reine Claude), 327
La Madeleine (syn. of Noire de Montreuil), 504
La Mirabelle (syn. of Mirabelle), 284
La Prairie, 479
La Prune Suisse (syn, of Suisse), 549
La Roche-Corbon (syn. of Red Diaper), 323
La Royal (syn. of Royal), 534
La Royale (syn. of Royal), 534
La Venitienne (syn. of Venetianische Zweimal Tragende), 558
La Victorine (syn. of Victoria), 363
Labert (syn. of Lambert), 478
Labert’s Red (syn. of Lambert), 478
Lachine, 478
Ladies’ Plum (syn. of Damas Violet), 427
Lady, 478
Lady Lucy (syn. of Cooper), 423
Lady Plum (syn. of Lady), 478
Lafay, M., var. orig. by, 360
Lafayette, 261
Laire, 262
Lakeside No. 1 & No. 2, 478
Lallinger Königspflaume, 478
Lambert, 478
Lambert’s Red (syn. of Lambert), 478
Lammas, 478
Lancaster, 478
Lang, 478
Langdon, 478
Langdon, Reuben, var. orig. by, 478
Langdon (syn. of Langsdon), 479
Langdon’s Seedling (syn. of Langdon), 478
Langes Aprikosenpflaume (syn. of Abricotée de Lange), 391
Lange Violette Damascene, 479
Lange Violette Dattel Pflaume; Lange Violette Dattel Zwetsche (syns. of Red Date), 322
Lange Violette Dattel Zwetsche (syn. of Hungarian), 246
Langley, quoted, 302
Langsdon, 479
Langliche Blaue Damascene? (syn. of Lange Violette Damascene), 479
Lannix, 479
Large Black Imperial? (syn. of Belle de Louvain, 400; of Bradshaw, 166)
Large Early Black (syn. of Nectarine), 291
Large early black (syn. of Noire de Montreuil), 504
Large Early Damson (syn. of Horse), 464
Large English, 262
Large English Damson, 479
Large German Prune (syn. of York State Prune), 571
Large German Prune (syn. of German Prune, 219; of Italian Prune, 253)
Large Golden Prolific, 479
Large green claudia (syn. of Reine Claude), 327
Large Green Drying, 479
Large Green Drying (syn. of Large Green Drying), 479
Large Holland (syn. of Holland), 462
Large Late Red Damask (syn. of Late Red Damask), 481
Large Long Blue (syn. of Manning), 489
Large Orlean (syn. of Red Magnum Bonum, 326; of Smith Orleans, 348)
Large Peach (syn. of Peach), 309
Large Peach Plum (syn. of Peach), 309
Large Purple (syn. of Smith Orleans), 348
Large Queen, 479
Large Queen Claude; Large Queen Claudia (syns. of Reine Claude), 327
