I got home from work (well, traineeship) today, knowing that a cold is on its way. So I made myself a cup of tea, wrapped myself in blankets and began to catch up on MP. In Ch. 29 we get this:

"Lady Bertram was not certain of anybody’s dress or anybody’s place at supper but her own. “She could not recollect what it was that she had heard about one of the Miss Maddoxes, or what it was that Lady Prescott had noticed in Fanny: she was not sure whether Colonel Harrison had been talking of Mr. Crawford or of William when he said he was the finest young man in the room — somebody had whispered something to her; she had forgot to ask Sir Thomas what it could be.”

This made me laugh out loud. Not only is Lady Bertram too lazy to make any decisions on her own, she also cannot be bothered to remember what somebody whispers to her - of course her husband must have a supernatural knowledge of what people whisper to her in a noisy, crowded ball-room, so why go through the trouble of actually storing that knowledge yourself!