The disturbance at the window could not, of course, have been unnoticed by the Bingleys, brother or sister. Miss Bingley turned a frowning countenance upon her brother, who excused himself from the vicar and strode hastily to the window. Seeing only an empty carriage pulling away, he had just turned to inquire of Darcy when the drawing room doors opened. Stevenson appeared and, in a voice choked with suppressed amusement, announced, “Mrs. Edward Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Mary, Catherine, and Lydia Bennet.” For a moment, the silence in the room was complete, as portentous as at the anticipation of the first sight of a new bride. Oblivious to the entrance she was making, Mrs. Bennet clucked to a daughter behind her to stop fidgeting and advanced into the room to make her curtsy to her hostess. When the Bennet girls finally appeared in the doorway, the entire room seemed to let out its breath. Miss Bennet, a becoming blush coloring her features, softly smiled at the ladies and gentlemen who greeted her as she made her way over to Miss Bingley. The youngest Bennet sister entered so closely behind the eldest that she almost tripped over the train of her dress, affording her an excuse to latch onto the nearest male arm for support. Giggling and tossing her curls, she greeted the young man by name and was soon surrounded by several of the young gentlemen and officers, entirely forgetting the necessity of making her curtsy to the ladies of the house.

Darcy watched apprehensively as Bingley pushed through the knot of persons surrounding his sisters and stood next to the divan so as to greet the newcomers properly. With some relief, Darcy noted that the manner of Bingley’s greeting to Miss Bennet was formal and correct in all respects save, perhaps, the intensity of his regard. A shriek, followed by a giggle, brought Darcy’s attention sharply back to the officers, where he identified its origin in the anticipated “Miss Lydia.”