4 ET TU, MRS DARCY Elizabeth awoke on the 15th of March to sunshine streaming through the curtains. Pulling a shawl about her shoulders, she took a quick glance outside. Though spring was still a week away, her first impression was that the day would be glorious. There was even a robin in the park across the street pecking about for worms. Seeing this harbinger of the most hopeful of all seasons somehow caused her to ponder the Ides of March. Was it truly a day that foretells disaster? Lizzy laughed at her nonsensical musings and concluded it was merely a theatrical illusion created by Shakespeare in Julius Caesar. She tended not to believe in superstition, but she was prompted to remember her own history with this auspicious date. A year ago on this day, she had gotten her courses for the first time. She had known to expect them because of her late night talks with Jane, but she had not been prepared for her mother’s reaction. Mrs Bennet chided her second daughter for being slow in achieving this—as she called it ‘momentous life transition’ and spoke of Lizzy finally being on ‘the threshold of womanhood.’ Despite her grand phrases, she mainly seemed elated that another daughter would very soon become a candidate for matrimony. This event had unleashed the conflict with her mother. The onset of her courses had been accompanied by cramping. Elizabeth would have liked some compassionate explanation of what was happening to her, as Jane had never experienced anything like what she had gone through. Elizabeth endured pain both the first time and several other times during the past year; but after listening to her mother’s initial discourse on the subject, she had decided to suffer in silence. Since arriving in London, she had been relieved to learn from her aunt that her experiences were not unusual. The former Margaret Davies had attended a school for young ladies in Derbyshire and was much more knowledgeable about such things than Mrs Bennet. Another trip to Grosvenor Square was planned for the day. But at breakfast, her aunt informed her that Susan was croupy. Aunt Gardiner felt it unwise to leave the baby, but encouraged Lizzy to visit Mrs Darcy without her. A note was sent to explain Mrs Gardiner’s absence and inform that Miss Elizabeth would still be available to attend if that was acceptable. The reply said that Mrs Darcy was most desirous of Elizabeth’s company and would come in a carriage to collect her. The affectionate tone of the communication caused Mrs Gardiner to express her confidence that Lizzy would be well cared for. Elizabeth dressed carefully. She chose to wear the new yellow muslin frock Papa had allowed her to have made in preparation for her visit to London. It had embroidered violets and lily of the valley at the neckline. The garment seemed perfect for the day’s promise of spring, and it also made her feel close to her sisters. All of them, even Mary, had chimed in with suggestions that day at Mrs Parton’s shop in Meryton. Practical Mary had suggested it be made so Lizzy could dress herself as she knew not whether her Aunt Gardiner could spare a maid to aid her when in London. Her logic had been impeccable when she said, ‘Without sisters to help, fastening your dresses could be quite difficult.’ In response, the dressmaker had suggested a gown with a bodice that crossed over in front and was fastened by buttons she could reach at her side. The idea for the embroidery to enhance the neckline had been Lydia’s. Kitty created the design while Jane, the most skilled with a needle, had done the actual stitching. Even though Kitty was only eleven, she was developing into a talented artist and Lydia seemed to be as obsessed with pretty dresses as her mother was with marriage. At ten, her favourite topic was imagining her first ball gown. For the second time that morning Lizzy broke out laughing when she thought of how Lydia changed