Pride and Prejudice and Kitties, стр. 1
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE AND KITTIES
A CAT-LOVER’S ROMP THROUGH JANE AUSTEN’S CLASSIC
Jane Austen, Pamela Jane, and Deborah Guyol
Skyhorse Publishing
Copyright © 2013 by Pamela Jane and Deborah Guyol
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief [Excerpt]s in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Skyhorse Publishing, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.
ISBN: 978-1-62087-710-4
e-ISBN: 9781626362277
Printed in China
To the immortal Jane, with love and laughter
—PJ and DG
Volume I
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Volume II
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Volume III
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
About The Authors
Acknowledgments
VOLUME I
What a fine thing it would be for any of our five kittens to catch a rich mouse—I mean spouse.
“NETHERFIELD PARK IS marked at last.”
The news caused much romping at the Bennet household for, as every cat knows, a handsome young tom in possession of his own territory must be in want of a mate.
“What a fine thing it would be for any of our five kittens to catch a rich mouse—I mean spouse,” said Mrs. Bennet. “Really, Mr. Bennet, you must pay a call on Mr. Bingley immediately, before that scheming Lady Lucas pounces on him for her daughter Charlotte.”
What a fine thing it would be for any of our five kittens to catch a rich mouse—I mean spouse.
Mr. Bennet, however, feigned indifference, yawning and proceeding to wash his face.
“I’ll tell you what, my dear,” said he, “why don’t you go yourself? I will send a few lines by you to assure Mr. Bingley of my hearty consent to his marrying whichever he chooses of our daughters; though I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.”
“I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the others; I am sure she has neither Jane’s fluffiness nor Lydia’s animal spirits. But you are always giving her the preference.”
Mr. Bennet steadfastly refused to call on Mr. Bingley, and his wife’s mournful meows could be heard echoing through the halls of Longbourn. She was as nervous as a cat has a right to be about finding her kittens good mates. For, if she did not succeed in marrying her daughters off to rich toms, she would be thrown out to the hedgerows to catch her own supper when Mr. Bennet died.
Poor Mrs. Bennet was a cat of dim perceptions and horrifying hallucinations. The business of her life was to see her kitties well-mated; its solace was visiting and mews.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.
OBSERVING HIS SECOND daughter attacking a feathered bonnet, Mr. Bennet remarked, “I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.”
“We are not in a way to know what Mr. Bingley likes,” sniffed Mrs. Bennet, “since we are not to visit.”
“But you forget, Mama,” said Elizabeth, “that we shall frolic with him at the assemblies.”
At that moment, Kitty began coughing up a hairball.
Kitty began coughing up a hairball.
“Not another hairball, Kitty, for heaven’s sake!” cried Mrs. Bennet. “Have a little compassion on my poor nerves!”
“Kitty has no discretion in her hairballs,” said her father. “She times them ill.”
“When is your next hair ball—I mean ball to be, Lizzy?”
“Tomorrow fortnight.”
Mr. Bennet suggested they return to the subject of Mr. Bingley.
But now poor Mrs. Bennet found herself coughing up a hair-ball. “I am sick of Mr. Bingley!” she gagged.
“I am sorry to hear that; but why did not you tell me before?” replied her husband. “If I had known as much this morning, I certainly would not have called on him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance now.”
Upon hearing this, Mrs. Bennet frisked and frolicked with abandon; the irksome hairballs were entirely forgotten. Instead, her head was filled with visions of the coming assembly. There, in the ball room, her daughters would meet the alluring Mr. Bingley and, if all went as planned, enjoy the pleasure of chasing the ball (Sir William Lucas had procured a particularly fine one with a bell inside) under the sideboard with him. These hopes and expectations raised Mrs. Bennet’s spirits to a pleasant pitch, for such sport with such a partner promised to answer all her dearest hopes for the happines of at least one of her daughters, and the security of the entire family.
“What an excellent father you have, girls,” said she, when the door was shut. “I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness; or me either for that matter. At our time of life it is not so pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances