Permalink
Cannot retrieve contributors at this time
<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> | |
<!DOCTYPE html | |
PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" | |
"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > | |
<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> | |
<head> | |
<title> | |
Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen | |
</title> | |
<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> | |
body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} | |
P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } | |
H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } | |
hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} | |
.foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } | |
blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} | |
.mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} | |
.toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} | |
.toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} | |
div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } | |
.figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} | |
.figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} | |
pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} | |
</style> | |
</head> | |
<body> | |
<pre xml:space="preserve"> | |
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen | |
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with | |
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or | |
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included | |
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org | |
Title: Pride and Prejudice | |
Author: Jane Austen | |
Release Date: August 26, 2008 [EBook #1342] | |
Last Updated: March 10, 2018 | |
Language: English | |
Character set encoding: UTF-8 | |
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRIDE AND PREJUDICE *** | |
Produced by Anonymous Volunteers, and David Widger | |
</pre> | |
<p> | |
<br /><br /> | |
</p> | |
<h1> | |
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE | |
</h1> | |
<p> | |
<br /> | |
</p> | |
<h2> | |
By Jane Austen | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
<br /> <br /> | |
</p> | |
<hr /> | |
<p> | |
<br /> <br /> | |
</p> | |
<blockquote> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<br /> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0001"> Chapter 1 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0002"> Chapter 2 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0003"> Chapter 3 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0004"> Chapter 4 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0005"> Chapter 5 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0006"> Chapter 6 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0007"> Chapter 7 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0008"> Chapter 8 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0009"> Chapter 9 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0010"> Chapter 10 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0011"> Chapter 11 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0012"> Chapter 12 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0013"> Chapter 13 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0014"> Chapter 14 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0015"> Chapter 15 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0016"> Chapter 16 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0017"> Chapter 17 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0018"> Chapter 18 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0019"> Chapter 19 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0020"> Chapter 20 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0021"> Chapter 21 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0022"> Chapter 22 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0023"> Chapter 23 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0024"> Chapter 24 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0025"> Chapter 25 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0026"> Chapter 26 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0027"> Chapter 27 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0028"> Chapter 28 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0029"> Chapter 29 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0030"> Chapter 30 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0031"> Chapter 31 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0032"> Chapter 32 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0033"> Chapter 33 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0034"> Chapter 34 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0035"> Chapter 35 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0036"> Chapter 36 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0037"> Chapter 37 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0038"> Chapter 38 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0039"> Chapter 39 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0040"> Chapter 40 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0041"> Chapter 41 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0042"> Chapter 42 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0043"> Chapter 43 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0044"> Chapter 44 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0045"> Chapter 45 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0046"> Chapter 46 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0047"> Chapter 47 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0048"> Chapter 48 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0049"> Chapter 49 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0050"> Chapter 50 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0051"> Chapter 51 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0052"> Chapter 52 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0053"> Chapter 53 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0054"> Chapter 54 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0055"> Chapter 55 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0056"> Chapter 56 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0057"> Chapter 57 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0058"> Chapter 58 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0059"> Chapter 59 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0060"> Chapter 60 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p class="toc"> | |
<a href="#link2HCH0061"> Chapter 61 </a> | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<br /><br /> | |
</p> | |
</blockquote> | |
<p> | |
<br /> <br /> | |
</p> | |
<hr /> | |
<p> | |
<br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 1 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of | |
a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
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. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that | |
Netherfield Park is let at last?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Bennet replied that he had not. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But it is,” returned she; “for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told | |
me all about it.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Bennet made no answer. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Do you not want to know who has taken it?” cried his wife impatiently. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“<i>You</i> want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
This was invitation enough. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by | |
a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down | |
on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted | |
with it, that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take | |
possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the | |
house by the end of next week.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“What is his name?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Bingley.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Is he married or single?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or | |
five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“How so? How can it affect them?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “how can you be so tiresome! You | |
must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Is that his design in settling here?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Design! Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he <i>may</i> | |
fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon as | |
he comes.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go, or you may send | |
them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as | |
handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley may like you the best of the party.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“My dear, you flatter me. I certainly <i>have</i> had my share of beauty, | |
but I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has | |
five grown-up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own | |
beauty.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into | |
the neighbourhood.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It is more than I engage for, I assure you.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would be | |
for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, merely | |
on that account, for in general, you know, they visit no newcomers. Indeed | |
you must go, for it will be impossible for <i>us</i> to visit him if you | |
do not.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very glad | |
to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty | |
consent to his marrying whichever he chooses of the girls; though I must | |
throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the | |
others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so | |
good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving <i>her</i> the | |
preference.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“They have none of them much to recommend them,” replied he; “they are all | |
silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy has something more of | |
quickness than her sisters.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Mr. Bennet, how <i>can</i> you abuse your own children in such a way? You | |
take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are | |
my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these | |
last twenty years at least.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Ah, you do not know what I suffer.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four | |
thousand a year come into the neighbourhood.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not | |
visit them.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them | |
all.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, | |
and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had been | |
insufficient to make his wife understand his character. <i>Her</i> mind | |
was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, | |
little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she | |
fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her daughters | |
married; its solace was visiting and news. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 2 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley. He | |
had always intended to visit him, though to the last always assuring his | |
wife that he should not go; and till the evening after the visit was paid | |
she had no knowledge of it. It was then disclosed in the following manner. | |
Observing his second daughter employed in trimming a hat, he suddenly | |
addressed her with: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“We are not in a way to know <i>what</i> Mr. Bingley likes,” said her | |
mother resentfully, “since we are not to visit.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But you forget, mamma,” said Elizabeth, “that we shall meet him at the | |
assemblies, and that Mrs. Long promised to introduce him.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two nieces of | |
her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion of | |
her.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“No more have I,” said Mr. Bennet; “and I am glad to find that you do not | |
depend on her serving you.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply, but, unable to contain herself, | |
began scolding one of her daughters. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Don't keep coughing so, Kitty, for Heaven's sake! Have a little | |
compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Kitty has no discretion in her coughs,” said her father; “she times them | |
ill.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I do not cough for my own amusement,” replied Kitty fretfully. “When is | |
your next ball to be, Lizzy?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“To-morrow fortnight.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Aye, so it is,” cried her mother, “and Mrs. Long does not come back till | |
the day before; so it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for she | |
will not know him herself.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce | |
Mr. Bingley to <i>her</i>.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him | |
myself; how can you be so teasing?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I honour your circumspection. A fortnight's acquaintance is certainly | |
very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a | |
fortnight. But if <i>we</i> do not venture somebody else will; and after | |
all, Mrs. Long and her nieces must stand their chance; and, therefore, | |
as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I will | |
take it on myself.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only, “Nonsense, | |
nonsense!” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?” cried he. “Do you | |
consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on them, | |
as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you <i>there</i>. What say you, | |
Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read great | |
books and make extracts.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mary wished to say something sensible, but knew not how. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“While Mary is adjusting her ideas,” he continued, “let us return to Mr. | |
Bingley.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I am sick of Mr. Bingley,” cried his wife. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I am sorry to hear <i>that</i>; but why did not you tell me that before? | |
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.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished; that of Mrs. | |
Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though, when the first tumult of joy | |
was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the | |
while. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should persuade | |
you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well to neglect such an | |
acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! and it is such a good joke, too, | |
that you should have gone this morning and never said a word about it till | |
now.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose,” said Mr. Bennet; and, | |
as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“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 every day; but for your | |
sakes, we would do anything. Lydia, my love, though you <i>are</i> the | |
youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next ball.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh!” said Lydia stoutly, “I am not afraid; for though I <i>am</i> the | |
youngest, I'm the tallest.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he would return | |
Mr. Bennet's visit, and determining when they should ask him to dinner. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 3 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
Not all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five | |
daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw from her | |
husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. They attacked him in | |
various ways—with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and | |
distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all, and they were at | |
last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour, | |
Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable. Sir William had been | |
delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely | |
agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly | |
with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of | |
dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively hopes | |
of Mr. Bingley's heart were entertained. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,” | |
said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well married, | |
I shall have nothing to wish for.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet's visit, and sat about ten | |
minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being | |
admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard | |
much; but he saw only the father. The ladies were somewhat more fortunate, | |
for they had the advantage of ascertaining from an upper window that he | |
wore a blue coat, and rode a black horse. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched; and already had | |
Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her | |
housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Bingley | |
was obliged to be in town the following day, and, consequently, unable to | |
accept the honour of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite | |
disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town so | |
soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that he | |
might be always flying about from one place to another, and never settled | |
at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Lucas quieted her fears a little by | |
starting the idea of his being gone to London only to get a large party | |
for the ball; and a report soon followed that Mr. Bingley was to bring | |
twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls | |
grieved over such a number of ladies, but were comforted the day before | |
the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve he brought only six with him | |
from London—his five sisters and a cousin. And when the party | |
entered the assembly room it consisted of only five altogether—Mr. | |
Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and another young | |
man. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant | |
countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, | |
with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely | |
looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of | |
the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and the | |
report which was in general circulation within five minutes after his | |
entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. The gentlemen pronounced him | |
to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer | |
than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about | |
half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of | |
his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud; to be above his | |
company, and above being pleased; and not all his large estate in | |
Derbyshire could then save him from having a most forbidding, disagreeable | |
countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his friend. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal people | |
in the room; he was lively and unreserved, danced every dance, was angry | |
that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one himself at | |
Netherfield. Such amiable qualities must speak for themselves. What a | |
contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced only once with Mrs. | |
Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any other | |
lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, | |
speaking occasionally to one of his own party. His character was decided. | |
He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and everybody | |
hoped that he would never come there again. Amongst the most violent | |
against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of his general behaviour was | |
sharpened into particular resentment by his having slighted one of her | |
daughters. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit | |
down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr. Darcy had been | |
standing near enough for her to hear a conversation between him and Mr. | |
Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes, to press his friend to | |
join it. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing | |
about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly | |
acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this it would be | |
insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in | |
the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Mr. Bingley, “for a | |
kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my | |
life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see | |
uncommonly pretty.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“<i>You</i> are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. | |
Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of | |
her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare | |
say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Which do you mean?” and turning round he looked for a moment at | |
Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said: | |
“She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt <i>me</i>; I am in no | |
humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by | |
other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for | |
you are wasting your time with me.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth | |
remained with no very cordial feelings toward him. She told the story, | |
however, with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, | |
playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs. | |
Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield party. | |
Mr. Bingley had danced with her twice, and she had been distinguished by | |
his sisters. Jane was as much gratified by this as her mother could be, | |
though in a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane's pleasure. Mary had heard | |
herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most accomplished girl in the | |
neighbourhood; and Catherine and Lydia had been fortunate enough never to | |
be without partners, which was all that they had yet learnt to care for at | |
a ball. They returned, therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the | |
village where they lived, and of which they were the principal | |
inhabitants. They found Mr. Bennet still up. With a book he was regardless | |
of time; and on the present occasion he had a good deal of curiosity as to | |
the event of an evening which had raised such splendid expectations. He | |
had rather hoped that his wife's views on the stranger would be | |
disappointed; but he soon found out that he had a different story to hear. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! my dear Mr. Bennet,” as she entered the room, “we have had a most | |
delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there. Jane | |
was so admired, nothing could be like it. Everybody said how well she | |
looked; and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with her | |
twice! Only think of <i>that</i>, my dear; he actually danced with her | |
twice! and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second | |
time. First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand | |
up with her! But, however, he did not admire her at all; indeed, nobody | |
can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was going down | |
the dance. So he inquired who she was, and got introduced, and asked her | |
for the two next. Then the two third he danced with Miss King, and the two | |
fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane again, and the two | |
sixth with Lizzy, and the <i>Boulanger</i>—” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“If he had had any compassion for <i>me</i>,” cried her husband | |
impatiently, “he would not have danced half so much! For God's sake, say | |
no more of his partners. Oh that he had sprained his ankle in the first | |
dance!” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! my dear, I am quite delighted with him. He is so excessively | |
handsome! And his sisters are charming women. I never in my life saw | |
anything more elegant than their dresses. I dare say the lace upon Mrs. | |
Hurst's gown—” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet protested against any | |
description of finery. She was therefore obliged to seek another branch of | |
the subject, and related, with much bitterness of spirit and some | |
exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. Darcy. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But I can assure you,” she added, “that Lizzy does not lose much by not | |
suiting <i>his</i> fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not | |
at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited that there was no enduring | |
him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very great! | |
Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my dear, to | |
have given him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 4 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in | |
her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister just how very | |
much she admired him. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“He is just what a young man ought to be,” said she, “sensible, | |
good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners!—so much | |
ease, with such perfect good breeding!” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man ought | |
likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I did | |
not expect such a compliment.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between us. | |
Compliments always take <i>you</i> by surprise, and <i>me</i> never. What | |
could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing | |
that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in the room. | |
No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, | |
and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Dear Lizzy!” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. | |
You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable in | |
your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in your life.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always speak what | |
I think.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I know you do; and it is <i>that</i> which makes the wonder. With <i>your</i> | |
good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of others! | |
Affectation of candour is common enough—one meets with it | |
everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design—to take | |
the good of everybody's character and make it still better, and say | |
nothing of the bad—belongs to you alone. And so you like this man's | |
sisters, too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Certainly not—at first. But they are very pleasing women when you | |
converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother, and keep his | |
house; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming | |
neighbour in her.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced; their behaviour at | |
the assembly had not been calculated to please in general; and with more | |
quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than her sister, and | |
with a judgement too unassailed by any attention to herself, she was very | |
little disposed to approve them. They were in fact very fine ladies; not | |
deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of | |
making themselves agreeable when they chose it, but proud and conceited. | |
They were rather handsome, had been educated in one of the first private | |
seminaries in town, had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds, were in the | |
habit of spending more than they ought, and of associating with people of | |
rank, and were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of | |
themselves, and meanly of others. They were of a respectable family in the | |
north of England; a circumstance more deeply impressed on their memories | |
than that their brother's fortune and their own had been acquired by | |
trade. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly a hundred thousand | |
pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate, but did | |
not live to do it. Mr. Bingley intended it likewise, and sometimes made | |
choice of his county; but as he was now provided with a good house and the | |
liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those who best knew the | |
easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the remainder of his | |
days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to purchase. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
His sisters were anxious for his having an estate of his own; but, though | |
he was now only established as a tenant, Miss Bingley was by no means | |
unwilling to preside at his table—nor was Mrs. Hurst, who had | |
married a man of more fashion than fortune, less disposed to consider his | |
house as her home when it suited her. Mr. Bingley had not been of age two | |
years, when he was tempted by an accidental recommendation to look at | |
Netherfield House. He did look at it, and into it for half-an-hour—was | |
pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied with what | |
the owner said in its praise, and took it immediately. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Between him and Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in spite of | |
great opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the | |
easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, though no disposition | |
could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he | |
never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy's regard, Bingley | |
had the firmest reliance, and of his judgement the highest opinion. In | |
understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means deficient, | |
but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and | |
fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting. In that | |
respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was sure of being | |
liked wherever he appeared, Darcy was continually giving offense. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently | |
characteristic. Bingley had never met with more pleasant people or | |
prettier girls in his life; everybody had been most kind and attentive to | |
him; there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt | |
acquainted with all the room; and, as to Miss Bennet, he could not | |
conceive an angel more beautiful. Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a | |
collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for | |
none of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none received | |
either attention or pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty, | |
but she smiled too much. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so—but still they admired | |
her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet girl, and one whom | |
they would not object to know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore | |
established as a sweet girl, and their brother felt authorized by such | |
commendation to think of her as he chose. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 5 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the Bennets were | |
particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas had been formerly in trade in | |
Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune, and risen to the honour of | |
knighthood by an address to the king during his mayoralty. The distinction | |
had perhaps been felt too strongly. It had given him a disgust to his | |
business, and to his residence in a small market town; and, in quitting | |
them both, he had removed with his family to a house about a mile from | |
Meryton, denominated from that period Lucas Lodge, where he could think | |
with pleasure of his own importance, and, unshackled by business, occupy | |
himself solely in being civil to all the world. For, though elated by his | |
rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the contrary, he was all | |
attention to everybody. By nature inoffensive, friendly, and obliging, his | |
presentation at St. James's had made him courteous. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Lady Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not too clever to be a valuable | |
neighbour to Mrs. Bennet. They had several children. The eldest of them, a | |
sensible, intelligent young woman, about twenty-seven, was Elizabeth's | |
intimate friend. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
That the Miss Lucases and the Miss Bennets should meet to talk over a ball | |
was absolutely necessary; and the morning after the assembly brought the | |
former to Longbourn to hear and to communicate. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“<i>You</i> began the evening well, Charlotte,” said Mrs. Bennet with | |
civil self-command to Miss Lucas. “<i>You</i> were Mr. Bingley's first | |
choice.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Yes; but he seemed to like his second better.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! you mean Jane, I suppose, because he danced with her twice. To be | |
sure that <i>did</i> seem as if he admired her—indeed I rather | |
believe he <i>did</i>—I heard something about it—but I hardly | |
know what—something about Mr. Robinson.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson; did not I | |
mention it to you? Mr. Robinson's asking him how he liked our Meryton | |
assemblies, and whether he did not think there were a great many pretty | |
women in the room, and <i>which</i> he thought the prettiest? and his | |
answering immediately to the last question: 'Oh! the eldest Miss Bennet, | |
beyond a doubt; there cannot be two opinions on that point.'” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Upon my word! Well, that is very decided indeed—that does seem as | |
if—but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“<i>My</i> overhearings were more to the purpose than <i>yours</i>, | |
Eliza,” said Charlotte. “Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to as | |
his friend, is he?—poor Eliza!—to be only just <i>tolerable</i>.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I beg you would not put it into Lizzy's head to be vexed by his | |
ill-treatment, for he is such a disagreeable man, that it would be quite a | |
misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he sat | |
close to her for half-an-hour without once opening his lips.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Are you quite sure, ma'am?—is not there a little mistake?” said | |
Jane. “I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Aye—because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he | |
could not help answering her; but she said he seemed quite angry at being | |
spoke to.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much, unless | |
among his intimate acquaintances. With <i>them</i> he is remarkably | |
agreeable.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very agreeable, | |
he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it was; everybody | |
says that he is eat up with pride, and I dare say he had heard somehow | |
that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had come to the ball in a | |
hack chaise.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long,” said Miss Lucas, “but I wish | |
he had danced with Eliza.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Another time, Lizzy,” said her mother, “I would not dance with <i>him</i>, | |
if I were you.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I believe, ma'am, I may safely promise you <i>never</i> to dance with | |
him.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“His pride,” said Miss Lucas, “does not offend <i>me</i> so much as pride | |
often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so | |
very fine a young man, with family, fortune, everything in his favour, | |
should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a <i>right</i> | |
to be proud.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“That is very true,” replied Elizabeth, “and I could easily forgive <i>his</i> | |
pride, if he had not mortified <i>mine</i>.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Pride,” observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her | |
reflections, “is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have ever | |
read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human nature is | |
particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not | |
cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or | |
other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though | |
the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being | |
vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we | |
would have others think of us.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy,” cried a young Lucas, who came with his | |
sisters, “I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of | |
foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine a day.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought,” said Mrs. Bennet; | |
“and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle directly.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she | |
would, and the argument ended only with the visit. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 6 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit was | |
soon returned in due form. Miss Bennet's pleasing manners grew on the | |
goodwill of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and though the mother was found | |
to be intolerable, and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, a wish | |
of being better acquainted with <i>them</i> was expressed towards the two | |
eldest. By Jane, this attention was received with the greatest pleasure, | |
but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their treatment of everybody, | |
hardly excepting even her sister, and could not like them; though their | |
kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value as arising in all | |
probability from the influence of their brother's admiration. It was | |
generally evident whenever they met, that he <i>did</i> admire her and to | |
<i>her</i> it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference | |
which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a way | |
to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure that it was not | |
likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane united, with | |
great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and a uniform | |
cheerfulness of manner which would guard her from the suspicions of the | |
impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It may perhaps be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to impose on | |
the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so | |
very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from | |
the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will | |
then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. | |
There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that | |
it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all <i>begin</i> freely—a | |
slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have | |
heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out | |
of ten a women had better show <i>more</i> affection than she feels. | |
Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like | |
her, if she does not help him on.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If I can | |
perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton, indeed, not to | |
discover it too.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane's disposition as you do.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to conceal it, | |
he must find it out.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But, though Bingley and Jane | |
meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and, as they | |
always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every | |
moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should therefore | |
make the most of every half-hour in which she can command his attention. | |
When she is secure of him, there will be more leisure for falling in love | |
as much as she chooses.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Your plan is a good one,” replied Elizabeth, “where nothing is in | |
question but the desire of being well married, and if I were determined to | |
get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But | |
these are not Jane's feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet, she | |
cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard nor of its | |
reasonableness. She has known him only a fortnight. She danced four dances | |
with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house, and has | |
since dined with him in company four times. This is not quite enough to | |
make her understand his character.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Not as you represent it. Had she merely <i>dined</i> with him, she might | |
only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but you must remember | |
that four evenings have also been spent together—and four evenings | |
may do a great deal.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Yes; these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both | |
like Vingt-un better than Commerce; but with respect to any other leading | |
characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Well,” said Charlotte, “I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if she | |
were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a chance of | |
happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth. | |
Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions | |
of the parties are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar | |
beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always | |
continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of | |
vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of | |
the person with whom you are to pass your life.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not | |
sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley's attentions to her sister, Elizabeth | |
was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some | |
interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely | |
allowed her to be pretty; he had looked at her without admiration at the | |
ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no | |
sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she hardly had | |
a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered | |
uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To | |
this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had | |
detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in | |
her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and | |
pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of | |
the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this | |
she was perfectly unaware; to her he was only the man who made himself | |
agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance | |
with. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing | |
with her himself, attended to her conversation with others. His doing so | |
drew her notice. It was at Sir William Lucas's, where a large party were | |
assembled. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“What does Mr. Darcy mean,” said she to Charlotte, “by listening to my | |
conversation with Colonel Forster?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I see what | |
he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being | |
impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have | |
any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such a | |
subject to him; which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she turned | |
to him and said: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well | |
just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at | |
Meryton?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a lady | |
energetic.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You are severe on us.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It will be <i>her</i> turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas. “I am | |
going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!—always wanting | |
me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a | |
musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would really | |
rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the | |
very best performers.” On Miss Lucas's persevering, however, she added, | |
“Very well, if it must be so, it must.” And gravely glancing at Mr. Darcy, | |
“There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course familiar | |
with: 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge'; and I shall keep mine to | |
swell my song.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song or | |
two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she | |
would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her | |
sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in the | |
family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always | |
impatient for display. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her | |
application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited | |
manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she | |
had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with | |
much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the end | |
of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch | |
and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of | |
the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one | |
end of the room. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing | |
the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too much | |
engrossed by his thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas was his | |
neighbour, till Sir William thus began: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is | |
nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first | |
refinements of polished society.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst | |
the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Sir William only smiled. “Your friend performs delightfully,” he continued | |
after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; “and I doubt not that you | |
are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do | |
you often dance at St. James's?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Never, sir.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You have a house in town, I conclude?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Darcy bowed. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I had once had some thought of fixing in town myself—for I am fond | |
of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of | |
London would agree with Lady Lucas.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
He paused in hopes of an answer; but his companion was not disposed to | |
make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving towards them, he was struck | |
with the action of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to her: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me | |
to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot | |
refuse to dance, I am sure when so much beauty is before you.” And, taking | |
her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy who, though extremely | |
surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly drew back, | |
and said with some discomposure to Sir William: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not | |
to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the honour of her | |
hand, but in vain. Elizabeth was determined; nor did Sir William at all | |
shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me | |
the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the | |
amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us | |
for one half-hour.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Mr. Darcy is all politeness,” said Elizabeth, smiling. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“He is, indeed; but, considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we | |
cannot wonder at his complaisance—for who would object to such a | |
partner?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not injured | |
her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her with some complacency, | |
when thus accosted by Miss Bingley: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I can guess the subject of your reverie.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I should imagine not.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings | |
in this manner—in such society; and indeed I am quite of your | |
opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise—the | |
nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I | |
give to hear your strictures on them!” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more | |
agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which | |
a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he would | |
tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. Mr. Darcy | |
replied with great intrepidity: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” repeated Miss Bingley. “I am all astonishment. | |
How long has she been such a favourite?—and pray, when am I to wish | |
you joy?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady's | |
imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to | |
matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is | |
absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law, indeed; | |
and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to entertain | |
herself in this manner; and as his composure convinced her that all was | |
safe, her wit flowed long. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 7 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Bennet's property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two | |
thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed, in | |
default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother's fortune, | |
though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply the | |
deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, and had | |
left her four thousand pounds. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a clerk to their | |
father and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled in London | |
in a respectable line of trade. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most convenient | |
distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted thither three or | |
four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt and to a milliner's | |
shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family, Catherine and | |
Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions; their minds were | |
more vacant than their sisters', and when nothing better offered, a walk | |
to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours and furnish | |
conversation for the evening; and however bare of news the country in | |
general might be, they always contrived to learn some from their aunt. At | |
present, indeed, they were well supplied both with news and happiness by | |
the recent arrival of a militia regiment in the neighbourhood; it was to | |
remain the whole winter, and Meryton was the headquarters. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Their visits to Mrs. Phillips were now productive of the most interesting | |
intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of the | |
officers' names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret, | |
and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Phillips | |
visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a store of felicity | |
unknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. Bingley's | |
large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their mother, was | |
worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of an ensign. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr. Bennet | |
coolly observed: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of | |
the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am | |
now convinced.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with perfect | |
indifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter, and | |
her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the next | |
morning to London. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I am astonished, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that you should be so ready | |
to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly of | |
anybody's children, it should not be of my own, however.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Yes—but as it happens, they are all of them very clever.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I had | |
hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must so far | |
differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly | |
foolish.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of | |
their father and mother. When they get to our age, I dare say they will | |
not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I | |
liked a red coat myself very well—and, indeed, so I do still at my | |
heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year, | |
should want one of my girls I shall not say nay to him; and I thought | |
Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William's in | |
his regimentals.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Mamma,” cried Lydia, “my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain | |
Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson's as they did when they first | |
came; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke's library.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a | |
note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited for | |
an answer. Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly | |
calling out, while her daughter read, | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, | |
Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It is from Miss Bingley,” said Jane, and then read it aloud. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“MY DEAR FRIEND,— | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and me, we | |
shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a | |
whole day's tete-a-tete between two women can never end without a quarrel. | |
Come as soon as you can on receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen | |
are to dine with the officers.—Yours ever, | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“CAROLINE BINGLEY” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“With the officers!” cried Lydia. “I wonder my aunt did not tell us of <i>that</i>.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Dining out,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that is very unlucky.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Can I have the carriage?” said Jane. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to | |
rain; and then you must stay all night.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“That would be a good scheme,” said Elizabeth, “if you were sure that they | |
would not offer to send her home.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to Meryton, | |
and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I had much rather go in the coach.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are | |
wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are they not?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But if you have got them to-day,” said Elizabeth, “my mother's purpose | |
will be answered.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses | |
were engaged. Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her | |
mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad | |
day. Her hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before it rained | |
hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The | |
rain continued the whole evening without intermission; Jane certainly | |
could not come back. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!” said Mrs. Bennet more than once, | |
as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next | |
morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her | |
contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield | |
brought the following note for Elizabeth: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“MY DEAREST LIZZY,— | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be | |
imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear | |
of my returning till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones—therefore | |
do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me—and, | |
excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the matter with | |
me.—Yours, etc.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Well, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note aloud, | |
“if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness—if she | |
should die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of | |
Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! I am not afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling | |
colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays there, it is | |
all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the carriage.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to her, though the | |
carriage was not to be had; and as she was no horsewoman, walking was her | |
only alternative. She declared her resolution. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“How can you be so silly,” cried her mother, “as to think of such a thing, | |
in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I shall be very fit to see Jane—which is all I want.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,” said her father, “to send for the horses?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“No, indeed, I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing when | |
one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I admire the activity of your benevolence,” observed Mary, “but every | |
impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, | |
exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“We will go as far as Meryton with you,” said Catherine and Lydia. | |
Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off | |
together. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“If we make haste,” said Lydia, as they walked along, “perhaps we may see | |
something of Captain Carter before he goes.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one | |
of the officers' wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing | |
field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over | |
puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within view | |
of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with | |
the warmth of exercise. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
She was shown into the breakfast-parlour, where all but Jane were | |
assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise. That | |
she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty | |
weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss | |
Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt for | |
it. She was received, however, very politely by them; and in their | |
brother's manners there was something better than politeness; there was | |
good humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst | |
nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the | |
brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion, and doubt as to the | |
occasion's justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was thinking | |
only of his breakfast. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Her inquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss | |
Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not well | |
enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her | |
immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving | |
alarm or inconvenience from expressing in her note how much she longed for | |
such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal, however, | |
to much conversation, and when Miss Bingley left them together, could | |
attempt little besides expressions of gratitude for the extraordinary | |
kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended her. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
When breakfast was over they were joined by the sisters; and Elizabeth | |
began to like them herself, when she saw how much affection and solicitude | |
they showed for Jane. The apothecary came, and having examined his | |
patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, | |
and that they must endeavour to get the better of it; advised her to | |
return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice was followed | |
readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head ached acutely. | |
Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment; nor were the other ladies | |
often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had, in fact, nothing to do | |
elsewhere. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and very | |
unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only | |
wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern in | |
parting with her, that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer of | |
the chaise to an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. | |
Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to | |
Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay and bring back a supply of | |
clothes. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 8 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
At five o'clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half-past six | |
Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. To the civil inquiries which then poured | |
in, and amongst which she had the pleasure of distinguishing the much | |
superior solicitude of Mr. Bingley's, she could not make a very favourable | |
answer. Jane was by no means better. The sisters, on hearing this, | |
repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, how shocking it | |
was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill | |
themselves; and then thought no more of the matter: and their indifference | |
towards Jane when not immediately before them restored Elizabeth to the | |
enjoyment of all her former dislike. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could regard | |
with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his attentions | |
to herself most pleasing, and they prevented her feeling herself so much | |
an intruder as she believed she was considered by the others. She had very | |
little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. Darcy, | |
her sister scarcely less so; and as for Mr. Hurst, by whom Elizabeth sat, | |
he was an indolent man, who lived only to eat, drink, and play at cards; | |
who, when he found her to prefer a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to | |
say to her. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley | |
began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were | |
pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she | |
had no conversation, no style, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and | |
added: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent | |
walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really | |
looked almost wild.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“She did, indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very | |
nonsensical to come at all! Why must <i>she</i> be scampering about the | |
country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair, so untidy, so blowsy!” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in | |
mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide | |
it not doing its office.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Your picture may be very exact, Louisa,” said Bingley; “but this was all | |
lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well when | |
she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my | |
notice.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“<i>You</i> observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley; “and I | |
am inclined to think that you would not wish to see <i>your</i> sister | |
make such an exhibition.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Certainly not.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, | |
above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by | |
it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a | |
most country-town indifference to decorum.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing,” said | |
Bingley. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I am afraid, Mr. Darcy,” observed Miss Bingley in a half whisper, “that | |
this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Not at all,” he replied; “they were brightened by the exercise.” A short | |
pause followed this speech, and Mrs. Hurst began again: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I have an excessive regard for Miss Jane Bennet, she is really a very | |
sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with | |
such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is | |
no chance of it.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“That is capital,” added her sister, and they both laughed heartily. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“If they had uncles enough to fill <i>all</i> Cheapside,” cried Bingley, | |
“it would not make them one jot less agreeable.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any | |
consideration in the world,” replied Darcy. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters gave it their | |
hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the expense of | |
their dear friend's vulgar relations. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
With a renewal of tenderness, however, they returned to her room on | |
leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till summoned to coffee. She | |
was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not quit her at all, till late | |
in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her sleep, and when it | |
seemed to her rather right than pleasant that she should go downstairs | |
herself. On entering the drawing-room she found the whole party at loo, | |
and was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them to be | |
playing high she declined it, and making her sister the excuse, said she | |
would amuse herself for the short time she could stay below, with a book. | |
Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Do you prefer reading to cards?” said he; “that is rather singular.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Miss Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, “despises cards. She is a great | |
reader, and has no pleasure in anything else.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,” cried Elizabeth; “I am | |
<i>not</i> a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure,” said Bingley; “and I | |
hope it will be soon increased by seeing her quite well.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards the table | |
where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her others—all | |
that his library afforded. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; | |
but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I | |
ever looked into.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those in | |
the room. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I am astonished,” said Miss Bingley, “that my father should have left so | |
small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at | |
Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It ought to be good,” he replied, “it has been the work of many | |
generations.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying | |
books.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as | |
these.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of | |
that noble place. Charles, when you build <i>your</i> house, I wish it may | |
be half as delightful as Pemberley.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I wish it may.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that | |
neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a | |
finer county in England than Derbyshire.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I am talking of possibilities, Charles.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley | |
by purchase than by imitation.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth was so much caught with what passed, as to leave her very little | |
attention for her book; and soon laying it wholly aside, she drew near the | |
card-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest | |
sister, to observe the game. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?” said Miss Bingley; “will she | |
be as tall as I am?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or | |
rather taller.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so | |
much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for | |
her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience | |
to be so very accomplished as they all are.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net | |
purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I | |
never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being | |
informed that she was very accomplished.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too | |
much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no | |
otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far | |
from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot | |
boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my | |
acquaintance, that are really accomplished.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea | |
of an accomplished woman.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really | |
esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met | |
with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, | |
dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all | |
this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of | |
walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word | |
will be but half-deserved.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet | |
add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by | |
extensive reading.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I am no longer surprised at your knowing <i>only</i> six accomplished | |
women. I rather wonder now at your knowing <i>any</i>.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all | |
this?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and | |
application, and elegance, as you describe united.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her | |
implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who | |
answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with | |
bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all | |
conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the | |
room. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Elizabeth Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, | |
“is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the | |
other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it | |
succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Undoubtedly,” replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, | |
“there is a meanness in <i>all</i> the arts which ladies sometimes | |
condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning | |
is despicable.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue | |
the subject. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and | |
that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones being sent for | |
immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no country advice could be | |
of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most eminent | |
physicians. This she would not hear of; but she was not so unwilling to | |
comply with their brother's proposal; and it was settled that Mr. Jones | |
should be sent for early in the morning, if Miss Bennet were not decidedly | |
better. Bingley was quite uncomfortable; his sisters declared that they | |
were miserable. They solaced their wretchedness, however, by duets after | |
supper, while he could find no better relief to his feelings than by | |
giving his housekeeper directions that every attention might be paid to | |
the sick lady and her sister. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 9 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth passed the chief of the night in her sister's room, and in the | |
morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the | |
inquiries which she very early received from Mr. Bingley by a housemaid, | |
and some time afterwards from the two elegant ladies who waited on his | |
sisters. In spite of this amendment, however, she requested to have a note | |
sent to Longbourn, desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her own | |
judgement of her situation. The note was immediately dispatched, and its | |
contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her two | |
youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been | |
very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her that her illness was not | |
alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her | |
restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield. She | |
would not listen, therefore, to her daughter's proposal of being carried | |
home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think | |
it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, on Miss | |
Bingley's appearance and invitation, the mother and three daughters all | |
attended her into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met them with hopes that | |
Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet worse than she expected. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Indeed I have, sir,” was her answer. “She is a great deal too ill to be | |
moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a | |
little longer on your kindness.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Removed!” cried Bingley. “It must not be thought of. My sister, I am | |
sure, will not hear of her removal.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You may depend upon it, Madam,” said Miss Bingley, with cold civility, | |
“that Miss Bennet will receive every possible attention while she remains | |
with us.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I am sure,” she added, “if it was not for such good friends I do not know | |
what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast | |
deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is always the | |
way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest temper I have | |
ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to <i>her</i>. | |
You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect over the | |
gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to | |
Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though | |
you have but a short lease.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Whatever I do is done in a hurry,” replied he; “and therefore if I should | |
resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At | |
present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,” said Elizabeth. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You begin to comprehend me, do you?” cried he, turning towards her. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! yes—I understand you perfectly.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen | |
through I am afraid is pitiful.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“That is as it happens. It does not follow that a deep, intricate | |
character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Lizzy,” cried her mother, “remember where you are, and do not run on in | |
the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I did not know before,” continued Bingley immediately, “that you were a | |
studier of character. It must be an amusing study.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Yes, but intricate characters are the <i>most</i> amusing. They have at | |
least that advantage.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“The country,” said Darcy, “can in general supply but a few subjects for | |
such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and | |
unvarying society.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be | |
observed in them for ever.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Yes, indeed,” cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a | |
country neighbourhood. “I assure you there is quite as much of <i>that</i> | |
going on in the country as in town.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Everybody was surprised, and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, | |
turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete | |
victory over him, continued her triumph. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for my | |
part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal | |
pleasanter, is it not, Mr. Bingley?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“When I am in the country,” he replied, “I never wish to leave it; and | |
when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their | |
advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Aye—that is because you have the right disposition. But that | |
gentleman,” looking at Darcy, “seemed to think the country was nothing at | |
all.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Indeed, Mamma, you are mistaken,” said Elizabeth, blushing for her | |
mother. “You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there was not | |
such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in the town, | |
which you must acknowledge to be true.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with | |
many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods | |
larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his | |
countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her eyes towards | |
Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile. Elizabeth, for the sake of saying | |
something that might turn her mother's thoughts, now asked her if | |
Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since <i>her</i> coming away. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir | |
William is, Mr. Bingley, is not he? So much the man of fashion! So genteel | |
and easy! He has always something to say to everybody. <i>That</i> is my | |
idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very | |
important, and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Did Charlotte dine with you?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince-pies. For | |
my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their own work; | |
<i>my</i> daughters are brought up very differently. But everybody is to | |
judge for themselves, and the Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I | |
assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte | |
so <i>very</i> plain—but then she is our particular friend.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“She seems a very pleasant young woman.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has | |
often said so, and envied me Jane's beauty. I do not like to boast of my | |
own child, but to be sure, Jane—one does not often see anybody | |
better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own | |
partiality. When she was only fifteen, there was a man at my brother | |
Gardiner's in town so much in love with her that my sister-in-law was sure | |
he would make her an offer before we came away. But, however, he did not. | |
Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses on her, | |
and very pretty they were.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“And so ended his affection,” said Elizabeth impatiently. “There has been | |
many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first | |
discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I have been used to consider poetry as the <i>food</i> of love,” said | |
Darcy. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is | |
strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am | |
convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Darcy only smiled; and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth | |
tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to | |
speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs. | |
Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to Jane, | |
with an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was | |
unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be | |
civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part | |
indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and soon | |
afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of her | |
daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to each | |
other during the whole visit, and the result of it was, that the youngest | |
should tax Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming into the | |
country to give a ball at Netherfield. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion and | |
good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose affection | |
had brought her into public at an early age. She had high animal spirits, | |
and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the attention of the | |
officers, to whom her uncle's good dinners, and her own easy manners | |
recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was very equal, | |
therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the ball, and abruptly | |
reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be the most shameful | |
thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer to this sudden attack | |
was delightful to their mother's ear: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your | |
sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the | |
ball. But you would not wish to be dancing when she is ill.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Lydia declared herself satisfied. “Oh! yes—it would be much better | |
to wait till Jane was well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter | |
would be at Meryton again. And when you have given <i>your</i> ball,” she | |
added, “I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel | |
Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned | |
instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations' behaviour to the | |
remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the latter of whom, however, | |
could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of <i>her</i>, in spite | |
of all Miss Bingley's witticisms on <i>fine eyes</i>. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 10 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
The day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst and Miss | |
Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who | |
continued, though slowly, to mend; and in the evening Elizabeth joined | |
their party in the drawing-room. The loo-table, however, did not appear. | |
Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching the | |
progress of his letter and repeatedly calling off his attention by | |
messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. | |
Hurst was observing their game. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in | |
attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual | |
commendations of the lady, either on his handwriting, or on the evenness | |
of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern | |
with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was | |
exactly in union with her opinion of each. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
He made no answer. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You write uncommonly fast.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year! | |
Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I have already told her so once, by your desire.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens | |
remarkably well.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Thank you—but I always mend my own.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“How can you contrive to write so even?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
He was silent. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp; | |
and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful | |
little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss | |
Grantley's.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At | |
present I have not room to do them justice.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you | |
always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“They are generally long; but whether always charming it is not for me to | |
determine.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with | |
ease, cannot write ill.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline,” cried her brother, | |
“because he does <i>not</i> write with ease. He studies too much for words | |
of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“My style of writing is very different from yours.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh!” cried Miss Bingley, “Charles writes in the most careless way | |
imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them—by | |
which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my | |
correspondents.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Your humility, Mr. Bingley,” said Elizabeth, “must disarm reproof.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Nothing is more deceitful,” said Darcy, “than the appearance of humility. | |
It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect | |
boast.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“And which of the two do you call <i>my</i> little recent piece of | |
modesty?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in writing, | |
because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of thought and | |
carelessness of execution, which, if not estimable, you think at least | |
highly interesting. The power of doing anything with quickness is always | |
prized much by the possessor, and often without any attention to the | |
imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs. Bennet this morning | |
that if you ever resolved upon quitting Netherfield you should be gone in | |
five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of compliment to | |
yourself—and yet what is there so very laudable in a precipitance | |
which must leave very necessary business undone, and can be of no real | |
advantage to yourself or anyone else?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Nay,” cried Bingley, “this is too much, to remember at night all the | |
foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon my honour, I | |
believe what I said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this moment. | |
At least, therefore, I did not assume the character of needless | |
precipitance merely to show off before the ladies.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you would | |
be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as dependent on | |
chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were mounting your horse, | |
a friend were to say, 'Bingley, you had better stay till next week,' you | |
would probably do it, you would probably not go—and at another word, | |
might stay a month.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You have only proved by this,” cried Elizabeth, “that Mr. Bingley did not | |
do justice to his own disposition. You have shown him off now much more | |
than he did himself.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I am exceedingly gratified,” said Bingley, “by your converting what my | |
friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am | |
afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means | |
intend; for he would certainly think better of me, if under such a | |
circumstance I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I | |
could.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intentions as | |
atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Upon my word, I cannot exactly explain the matter; Darcy must speak for | |
himself.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to call mine, but | |
which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to stand | |
according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet, that the | |
friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and the delay of | |
his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering one argument in | |
favour of its propriety.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“To yield readily—easily—to the <i>persuasion</i> of a friend | |
is no merit with you.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of | |
either.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of | |
friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make one | |
readily yield to a request, without waiting for arguments to reason one | |
into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have | |
supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the | |
circumstance occurs before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour | |
thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and friend, | |
where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no | |
very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying with | |
the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange | |
with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to appertain | |
to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the | |
parties?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“By all means,” cried Bingley; “let us hear all the particulars, not | |
forgetting their comparative height and size; for that will have more | |
weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure | |
you, that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with | |
myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not | |
know a more awful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in | |
particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, | |
when he has nothing to do.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was | |
rather offended, and therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly | |
resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her | |
brother for talking such nonsense. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I see your design, Bingley,” said his friend. “You dislike an argument, | |
and want to silence this.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss | |
Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very | |
thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“What you ask,” said Elizabeth, “is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr. Darcy | |
had much better finish his letter.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth for | |
an indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with some alacrity to the | |
pianoforte; and, after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the way | |
which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she seated | |
herself. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister, and while they were thus employed, | |
Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music-books | |
that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Darcy's eyes were fixed on | |
her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of | |
admiration to so great a man; and yet that he should look at her because | |
he disliked her, was still more strange. She could only imagine, however, | |
at last that she drew his notice because there was something more wrong | |
and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other | |
person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked him too little | |
to care for his approbation. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a | |
lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near Elizabeth, | |
said to her: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an | |
opportunity of dancing a reel?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some | |
surprise at her silence. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh!” said she, “I heard you before, but I could not immediately determine | |
what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say 'Yes,' that you might | |
have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in | |
overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their | |
premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell you, | |
that I do not want to dance a reel at all—and now despise me if you | |
dare.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Indeed I do not dare.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his | |
gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner | |
which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never | |
been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, that | |
were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some | |
danger. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Miss Bingley saw, or suspected enough to be jealous; and her great anxiety | |
for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some assistance from her | |
desire of getting rid of Elizabeth. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by talking of | |
their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I hope,” said she, as they were walking together in the shrubbery the | |
next day, “you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this | |
desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; | |
and if you can compass it, do cure the younger girls of running after | |
officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to check | |
that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your | |
lady possesses.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Phillips be placed | |
in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the judge. | |
They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines. As for | |
your Elizabeth's picture, you must not have it taken, for what painter | |
could do justice to those beautiful eyes?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour | |
and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst and Elizabeth | |
herself. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I did not know that you intended to walk,” said Miss Bingley, in some | |
confusion, lest they had been overheard. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You used us abominably ill,” answered Mrs. Hurst, “running away without | |
telling us that you were coming out.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk by | |
herself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt their rudeness, and | |
immediately said: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the | |
avenue.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them, | |
laughingly answered: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to | |
uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. | |
Good-bye.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
She then ran gaily off, rejoicing as she rambled about, in the hope of | |
being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already so much recovered as | |
to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours that evening. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 11 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
When the ladies removed after dinner, Elizabeth ran up to her sister, and | |
seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into the drawing-room, | |
where she was welcomed by her two friends with many professions of | |
pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable as they were | |
during the hour which passed before the gentlemen appeared. Their powers | |
of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment | |
with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their | |
acquaintance with spirit. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object; Miss | |
Bingley's eyes were instantly turned toward Darcy, and she had something | |
to say to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed himself to | |
Miss Bennet, with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst also made her a | |
slight bow, and said he was “very glad;” but diffuseness and warmth | |
remained for Bingley's salutation. He was full of joy and attention. The | |
first half-hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she should suffer | |
from the change of room; and she removed at his desire to the other side | |
of the fireplace, that she might be further from the door. He then sat | |
down by her, and talked scarcely to anyone else. Elizabeth, at work in the | |
opposite corner, saw it all with great delight. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
When tea was over, Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law of the card-table—but | |
in vain. She had obtained private intelligence that Mr. Darcy did not wish | |
for cards; and Mr. Hurst soon found even his open petition rejected. She | |
assured him that no one intended to play, and the silence of the whole | |
party on the subject seemed to justify her. Mr. Hurst had therefore | |
nothing to do, but to stretch himself on one of the sofas and go to sleep. | |
Darcy took up a book; Miss Bingley did the same; and Mrs. Hurst, | |
principally occupied in playing with her bracelets and rings, joined now | |
and then in her brother's conversation with Miss Bennet. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Miss Bingley's attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Darcy's | |
progress through <i>his</i> book, as in reading her own; and she was | |
perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She could | |
not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her | |
question, and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be | |
amused with her own book, which she had only chosen because it was the | |
second volume of his, she gave a great yawn and said, “How pleasant it is | |
to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment | |
like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I | |
have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent | |
library.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her book, and | |
cast her eyes round the room in quest for some amusement; when hearing her | |
brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly towards him | |
and said: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at | |
Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult | |
the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some | |
among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he chooses, | |
before it begins—but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing; | |
and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough, I shall send round my | |
cards.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I should like balls infinitely better,” she replied, “if they were | |
carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably | |
tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much | |
more rational if conversation instead of dancing were made the order of | |
the day.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be | |
near so much like a ball.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Miss Bingley made no answer, and soon afterwards she got up and walked | |
about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but Darcy, at | |
whom it was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious. In the desperation | |
of her feelings, she resolved on one effort more, and, turning to | |
Elizabeth, said: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a | |
turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so | |
long in one attitude.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss Bingley | |
succeeded no less in the real object of her civility; Mr. Darcy looked up. | |
He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as | |
Elizabeth herself could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He was | |
directly invited to join their party, but he declined it, observing that | |
he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down | |
the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would | |
interfere. “What could he mean? She was dying to know what could be his | |
meaning?”—and asked Elizabeth whether she could at all understand | |
him? | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Not at all,” was her answer; “but depend upon it, he means to be severe | |
on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing | |
about it.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in | |
anything, and persevered therefore in requiring an explanation of his two | |
motives. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,” said he, as soon | |
as she allowed him to speak. “You either choose this method of passing the | |
evening because you are in each other's confidence, and have secret | |
affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear | |
to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I would be completely | |
in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by | |
the fire.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! shocking!” cried Miss Bingley. “I never heard anything so abominable. | |
How shall we punish him for such a speech?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,” said Elizabeth. “We | |
can all plague and punish one another. Tease him—laugh at him. | |
Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“But upon my honour, I do <i>not</i>. I do assure you that my intimacy has | |
not yet taught me <i>that</i>. Tease calmness of manner and presence of | |
mind! No, no; I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not | |
expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. | |
Mr. Darcy may hug himself.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!” cried Elizabeth. “That is an uncommon | |
advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great | |
loss to <i>me</i> to have many such acquaintances. I dearly love a laugh.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Miss Bingley,” said he, “has given me more credit than can be. The wisest | |
and the best of men—nay, the wisest and best of their actions—may | |
be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Certainly,” replied Elizabeth—“there are such people, but I hope I | |
am not one of <i>them</i>. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. | |
Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, <i>do</i> divert me, I | |
own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are | |
precisely what you are without.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my | |
life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding | |
to ridicule.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Such as vanity and pride.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real | |
superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume,” said Miss Bingley; | |
“and pray what is the result?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it | |
himself without disguise.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“No,” said Darcy, “I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, | |
but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch | |
for. It is, I believe, too little yielding—certainly too little for | |
the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of | |
others so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings | |
are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would | |
perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“<i>That</i> is a failing indeed!” cried Elizabeth. “Implacable resentment | |
<i>is</i> a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I | |
really cannot <i>laugh</i> at it. You are safe from me.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular | |
evil—a natural defect, which not even the best education can | |
overcome.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“And <i>your</i> defect is to hate everybody.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“And yours,” he replied with a smile, “is willfully to misunderstand | |
them.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Do let us have a little music,” cried Miss Bingley, tired of a | |
conversation in which she had no share. “Louisa, you will not mind my | |
waking Mr. Hurst?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Her sister had not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was opened; | |
and Darcy, after a few moments' recollection, was not sorry for it. He | |
began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 12 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
In consequence of an agreement between the sisters, Elizabeth wrote the | |
next morning to their mother, to beg that the carriage might be sent for | |
them in the course of the day. But Mrs. Bennet, who had calculated on her | |
daughters remaining at Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which would | |
exactly finish Jane's week, could not bring herself to receive them with | |
pleasure before. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at least not | |
to Elizabeth's wishes, for she was impatient to get home. Mrs. Bennet sent | |
them word that they could not possibly have the carriage before Tuesday; | |
and in her postscript it was added, that if Mr. Bingley and his sister | |
pressed them to stay longer, she could spare them very well. Against | |
staying longer, however, Elizabeth was positively resolved—nor did | |
she much expect it would be asked; and fearful, on the contrary, as being | |
considered as intruding themselves needlessly long, she urged Jane to | |
borrow Mr. Bingley's carriage immediately, and at length it was settled | |
that their original design of leaving Netherfield that morning should be | |
mentioned, and the request made. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
The communication excited many professions of concern; and enough was said | |
of wishing them to stay at least till the following day to work on Jane; | |
and till the morrow their going was deferred. Miss Bingley was then sorry | |
that she had proposed the delay, for her jealousy and dislike of one | |
sister much exceeded her affection for the other. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were to go so | |
soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade Miss Bennet that it would not be | |
safe for her—that she was not enough recovered; but Jane was firm | |
where she felt herself to be right. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence—Elizabeth had been at | |
Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he liked—and | |
Miss Bingley was uncivil to <i>her</i>, and more teasing than usual to | |
himself. He wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of | |
admiration should <i>now</i> escape him, nothing that could elevate her | |
with the hope of influencing his felicity; sensible that if such an idea | |
had been suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material | |
weight in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely | |
spoke ten words to her through the whole of Saturday, and though they were | |
at one time left by themselves for half-an-hour, he adhered most | |
conscientiously to his book, and would not even look at her. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable to almost | |
all, took place. Miss Bingley's civility to Elizabeth increased at last | |
very rapidly, as well as her affection for Jane; and when they parted, | |
after assuring the latter of the pleasure it would always give her to see | |
her either at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most tenderly, | |
she even shook hands with the former. Elizabeth took leave of the whole | |
party in the liveliest of spirits. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother. Mrs. Bennet | |
wondered at their coming, and thought them very wrong to give so much | |
trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught cold again. But their father, | |
though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see | |
them; he had felt their importance in the family circle. The evening | |
conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its | |
animation, and almost all its sense by the absence of Jane and Elizabeth. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough-bass and human | |
nature; and had some extracts to admire, and some new observations of | |
threadbare morality to listen to. Catherine and Lydia had information for | |
them of a different sort. Much had been done and much had been said in the | |
regiment since the preceding Wednesday; several of the officers had dined | |
lately with their uncle, a private had been flogged, and it had actually | |
been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 13 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
“I hope, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at breakfast | |
the next morning, “that you have ordered a good dinner to-day, because I | |
have reason to expect an addition to our family party.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, | |
unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in—and I hope <i>my</i> | |
dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at | |
home.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, and a stranger.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled. “A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. | |
Bingley, I am sure! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. | |
Bingley. But—good Lord! how unlucky! There is not a bit of fish to | |
be got to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell—I must speak to Hill | |
this moment.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It is <i>not</i> Mr. Bingley,” said her husband; “it is a person whom I | |
never saw in the whole course of my life.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of being | |
eagerly questioned by his wife and his five daughters at once. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus explained: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“About a month ago I received this letter; and about a fortnight ago I | |
answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early | |
attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may | |
turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Oh! my dear,” cried his wife, “I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray | |
do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the | |
world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own children; | |
and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do | |
something or other about it.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Jane and Elizabeth tried to explain to her the nature of an entail. They | |
had often attempted to do it before, but it was a subject on which Mrs. | |
Bennet was beyond the reach of reason, and she continued to rail bitterly | |
against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of five | |
daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,” said Mr. Bennet, “and nothing | |
can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But if you | |
will listen to his letter, you may perhaps be a little softened by his | |
manner of expressing himself.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it is very impertinent of him | |
to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false friends. | |
Why could he not keep on quarreling with you, as his father did before | |
him?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Why, indeed; he does seem to have had some filial scruples on that head, | |
as you will hear.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, 15th October. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Dear Sir,— | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured father | |
always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to | |
lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach; but for some time I | |
was kept back by my own doubts, fearing lest it might seem disrespectful | |
to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had | |
always pleased him to be at variance.—'There, Mrs. Bennet.'—My | |
mind, however, is now made up on the subject, for having received | |
ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by | |
the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of | |
Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the | |
valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavour to | |
demean myself with grateful respect towards her ladyship, and be ever | |
ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the | |
Church of England. As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote | |
and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my | |
influence; and on these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures | |
are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in the | |
entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not | |
lead you to reject the offered olive-branch. I cannot be otherwise than | |
concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg | |
leave to apologise for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to | |
make them every possible amends—but of this hereafter. If you should | |
have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself the | |
satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday, November 18th, by | |
four o'clock, and shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the | |
Saturday se'ennight following, which I can do without any inconvenience, | |
as Lady Catherine is far from objecting to my occasional absence on a | |
Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of | |
the day.—I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your | |
lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend, | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“WILLIAM COLLINS” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“At four o'clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman,” | |
said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. “He seems to be a most | |
conscientious and polite young man, upon my word, and I doubt not will | |
prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be so | |
indulgent as to let him come to us again.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however, and if he | |
is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to | |
discourage him.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Though it is difficult,” said Jane, “to guess in what way he can mean to | |
make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to his | |
credit.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth was chiefly struck by his extraordinary deference for Lady | |
Catherine, and his kind intention of christening, marrying, and burying | |
his parishioners whenever it were required. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“He must be an oddity, I think,” said she. “I cannot make him out.—There | |
is something very pompous in his style.—And what can he mean by | |
apologising for being next in the entail?—We cannot suppose he would | |
help it if he could.—Could he be a sensible man, sir?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“No, my dear, I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the | |
reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his | |
letter, which promises well. I am impatient to see him.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“In point of composition,” said Mary, “the letter does not seem defective. | |
The idea of the olive-branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I think it is | |
well expressed.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
To Catherine and Lydia, neither the letter nor its writer were in any | |
degree interesting. It was next to impossible that their cousin should | |
come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since they had received | |
pleasure from the society of a man in any other colour. As for their | |
mother, Mr. Collins's letter had done away much of her ill-will, and she | |
was preparing to see him with a degree of composure which astonished her | |
husband and daughters. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great | |
politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said little; but the | |
ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins seemed neither in need | |
of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall, | |
heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and stately, | |
and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated before he | |
complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of daughters; said he | |
had heard much of their beauty, but that in this instance fame had fallen | |
short of the truth; and added, that he did not doubt her seeing them all | |
in due time disposed of in marriage. This gallantry was not much to the | |
taste of some of his hearers; but Mrs. Bennet, who quarreled with no | |
compliments, answered most readily. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You are very kind, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may prove | |
so, for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so oddly.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Ah! sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you must | |
confess. Not that I mean to find fault with <i>you</i>, for such things I | |
know are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates will go | |
when once they come to be entailed.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and could | |
say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing forward and | |
precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared to | |
admire them. At present I will not say more; but, perhaps, when we are | |
better acquainted—” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; and the girls smiled on each | |
other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Collins's admiration. The | |
hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture, were examined and praised; | |
and his commendation of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet's heart, | |
but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his own future | |
property. The dinner too in its turn was highly admired; and he begged to | |
know to which of his fair cousins the excellency of its cooking was owing. | |
But he was set right there by Mrs. Bennet, who assured him with some | |
asperity that they were very well able to keep a good cook, and that her | |
daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen. He begged pardon for having | |
displeased her. In a softened tone she declared herself not at all | |
offended; but he continued to apologise for about a quarter of an hour. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 14 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
During dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all; but when the servants | |
were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some conversation with his | |
guest, and therefore started a subject in which he expected him to shine, | |
by observing that he seemed very fortunate in his patroness. Lady | |
Catherine de Bourgh's attention to his wishes, and consideration for his | |
comfort, appeared very remarkable. Mr. Bennet could not have chosen | |
better. Mr. Collins was eloquent in her praise. The subject elevated him | |
to more than usual solemnity of manner, and with a most important aspect | |
he protested that “he had never in his life witnessed such behaviour in a | |
person of rank—such affability and condescension, as he had himself | |
experienced from Lady Catherine. She had been graciously pleased to | |
approve of both of the discourses which he had already had the honour of | |
preaching before her. She had also asked him twice to dine at Rosings, and | |
had sent for him only the Saturday before, to make up her pool of | |
quadrille in the evening. Lady Catherine was reckoned proud by many people | |
he knew, but <i>he</i> had never seen anything but affability in her. She | |
had always spoken to him as she would to any other gentleman; she made not | |
the smallest objection to his joining in the society of the neighbourhood | |
nor to his leaving the parish occasionally for a week or two, to visit his | |
relations. She had even condescended to advise him to marry as soon as he | |
could, provided he chose with discretion; and had once paid him a visit in | |
his humble parsonage, where she had perfectly approved all the alterations | |
he had been making, and had even vouchsafed to suggest some herself—some | |
shelves in the closet up stairs.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“That is all very proper and civil, I am sure,” said Mrs. Bennet, “and I | |
dare say she is a very agreeable woman. It is a pity that great ladies in | |
general are not more like her. Does she live near you, sir?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only by a lane | |
from Rosings Park, her ladyship's residence.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I think you said she was a widow, sir? Has she any family?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“She has only one daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very extensive | |
property.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Ah!” said Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, “then she is better off than | |
many girls. And what sort of young lady is she? Is she handsome?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“She is a most charming young lady indeed. Lady Catherine herself says | |
that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the | |
handsomest of her sex, because there is that in her features which marks | |
the young lady of distinguished birth. She is unfortunately of a sickly | |
constitution, which has prevented her from making that progress in many | |
accomplishments which she could not have otherwise failed of, as I am | |
informed by the lady who superintended her education, and who still | |
resides with them. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends to | |
drive by my humble abode in her little phaeton and ponies.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies at | |
court.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town; and | |
by that means, as I told Lady Catherine one day, has deprived the British | |
court of its brightest ornament. Her ladyship seemed pleased with the | |
idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on every occasion to offer those | |
little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to ladies. I have | |
more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that her charming daughter | |
seemed born to be a duchess, and that the most elevated rank, instead of | |
giving her consequence, would be adorned by her. These are the kind of | |
little things which please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention | |
which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You judge very properly,” said Mr. Bennet, “and it is happy for you that | |
you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask whether | |
these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are | |
the result of previous study?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I | |
sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant | |
compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give | |
them as unstudied an air as possible.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Bennet's expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd as | |
he had hoped, and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment, | |
maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance, | |
and, except in an occasional glance at Elizabeth, requiring no partner in | |
his pleasure. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, and Mr. Bennet was glad to | |
take his guest into the drawing-room again, and, when tea was over, glad | |
to invite him to read aloud to the ladies. Mr. Collins readily assented, | |
and a book was produced; but, on beholding it (for everything announced it | |
to be from a circulating library), he started back, and begging pardon, | |
protested that he never read novels. Kitty stared at him, and Lydia | |
exclaimed. Other books were produced, and after some deliberation he chose | |
Fordyce's Sermons. Lydia gaped as he opened the volume, and before he had, | |
with very monotonous solemnity, read three pages, she interrupted him | |
with: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Phillips talks of turning away Richard; | |
and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My aunt told me so herself | |
on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton to-morrow to hear more about it, and | |
to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Lydia was bid by her two eldest sisters to hold her tongue; but Mr. | |
Collins, much offended, laid aside his book, and said: | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by books of | |
a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. It amazes me, I | |
confess; for, certainly, there can be nothing so advantageous to them as | |
instruction. But I will no longer importune my young cousin.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Then turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself as his antagonist at | |
backgammon. Mr. Bennet accepted the challenge, observing that he acted | |
very wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling amusements. Mrs. | |
Bennet and her daughters apologised most civilly for Lydia's interruption, | |
and promised that it should not occur again, if he would resume his book; | |
but Mr. Collins, after assuring them that he bore his young cousin no | |
ill-will, and should never resent her behaviour as any affront, seated | |
himself at another table with Mr. Bennet, and prepared for backgammon. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 15 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had been | |
but little assisted by education or society; the greatest part of his life | |
having been spent under the guidance of an illiterate and miserly father; | |
and though he belonged to one of the universities, he had merely kept the | |
necessary terms, without forming at it any useful acquaintance. The | |
subjection in which his father had brought him up had given him originally | |
great humility of manner; but it was now a good deal counteracted by the | |
self-conceit of a weak head, living in retirement, and the consequential | |
feelings of early and unexpected prosperity. A fortunate chance had | |
recommended him to Lady Catherine de Bourgh when the living of Hunsford | |
was vacant; and the respect which he felt for her high rank, and his | |
veneration for her as his patroness, mingling with a very good opinion of | |
himself, of his authority as a clergyman, and his right as a rector, made | |
him altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and | |
humility. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to | |
marry; and in seeking a reconciliation with the Longbourn family he had a | |
wife in view, as he meant to choose one of the daughters, if he found them | |
as handsome and amiable as they were represented by common report. This | |
was his plan of amends—of atonement—for inheriting their | |
father's estate; and he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility | |
and suitableness, and excessively generous and disinterested on his own | |
part. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
His plan did not vary on seeing them. Miss Bennet's lovely face confirmed | |
his views, and established all his strictest notions of what was due to | |
seniority; and for the first evening <i>she</i> was his settled choice. | |
The next morning, however, made an alteration; for in a quarter of an | |
hour's tete-a-tete with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast, a conversation | |
beginning with his parsonage-house, and leading naturally to the avowal of | |
his hopes, that a mistress might be found for it at Longbourn, produced | |
from her, amid very complaisant smiles and general encouragement, a | |
caution against the very Jane he had fixed on. “As to her <i>younger</i> | |
daughters, she could not take upon her to say—she could not | |
positively answer—but she did not <i>know</i> of any prepossession; | |
her <i>eldest</i> daughter, she must just mention—she felt it | |
incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth—and it was | |
soon done—done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. Elizabeth, | |
equally next to Jane in birth and beauty, succeeded her of course. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon have | |
two daughters married; and the man whom she could not bear to speak of the | |
day before was now high in her good graces. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Lydia's intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten; every sister | |
except Mary agreed to go with her; and Mr. Collins was to attend them, at | |
the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most anxious to get rid of him, and | |
have his library to himself; for thither Mr. Collins had followed him | |
after breakfast; and there he would continue, nominally engaged with one | |
of the largest folios in the collection, but really talking to Mr. Bennet, | |
with little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such doings | |
discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his library he had been always sure | |
of leisure and tranquillity; and though prepared, as he told Elizabeth, to | |
meet with folly and conceit in every other room of the house, he was used | |
to be free from them there; his civility, therefore, was most prompt in | |
inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their walk; and Mr. Collins, | |
being in fact much better fitted for a walker than a reader, was extremely | |
pleased to close his large book, and go. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his cousins, | |
their time passed till they entered Meryton. The attention of the younger | |
ones was then no longer to be gained by him. Their eyes were immediately | |
wandering up in the street in quest of the officers, and nothing less than | |
a very smart bonnet indeed, or a really new muslin in a shop window, could | |
recall them. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom they | |
had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking with | |
another officer on the other side of the way. The officer was the very Mr. | |
Denny concerning whose return from London Lydia came to inquire, and he | |
bowed as they passed. All were struck with the stranger's air, all | |
wondered who he could be; and Kitty and Lydia, determined if possible to | |
find out, led the way across the street, under pretense of wanting | |
something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the | |
pavement when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same spot. | |
Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and entreated permission to introduce | |
his friend, Mr. Wickham, who had returned with him the day before from | |
town, and he was happy to say had accepted a commission in their corps. | |
This was exactly as it should be; for the young man wanted only | |
regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was greatly in | |
his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good | |
figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction was followed up on his | |
side by a happy readiness of conversation—a readiness at the same | |
time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the whole party were still | |
standing and talking together very agreeably, when the sound of horses | |
drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were seen riding down the street. | |
On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two gentlemen came directly | |
towards them, and began the usual civilities. Bingley was the principal | |
spokesman, and Miss Bennet the principal object. He was then, he said, on | |
his way to Longbourn on purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy | |
corroborated it with a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his | |
eyes on Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the | |
stranger, and Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of both as they | |
looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. | |
Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a | |
few moments, touched his hat—a salutation which Mr. Darcy just | |
deigned to return. What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to | |
imagine; it was impossible not to long to know. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
In another minute, Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have noticed what | |
passed, took leave and rode on with his friend. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door of Mr. | |
Phillip's house, and then made their bows, in spite of Miss Lydia's | |
pressing entreaties that they should come in, and even in spite of Mrs. | |
Phillips's throwing up the parlour window and loudly seconding the | |
invitation. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mrs. Phillips was always glad to see her nieces; and the two eldest, from | |
their recent absence, were particularly welcome, and she was eagerly | |
expressing her surprise at their sudden return home, which, as their own | |
carriage had not fetched them, she should have known nothing about, if she | |
had not happened to see Mr. Jones's shop-boy in the street, who had told | |
her that they were not to send any more draughts to Netherfield because | |
the Miss Bennets were come away, when her civility was claimed towards Mr. | |
Collins by Jane's introduction of him. She received him with her very best | |
politeness, which he returned with as much more, apologising for his | |
intrusion, without any previous acquaintance with her, which he could not | |
help flattering himself, however, might be justified by his relationship | |
to the young ladies who introduced him to her notice. Mrs. Phillips was | |
quite awed by such an excess of good breeding; but her contemplation of | |
one stranger was soon put to an end by exclamations and inquiries about | |
the other; of whom, however, she could only tell her nieces what they | |
already knew, that Mr. Denny had brought him from London, and that he was | |
to have a lieutenant's commission in the ——shire. She had been | |
watching him the last hour, she said, as he walked up and down the street, | |
and had Mr. Wickham appeared, Kitty and Lydia would certainly have | |
continued the occupation, but unluckily no one passed windows now except a | |
few of the officers, who, in comparison with the stranger, were become | |
“stupid, disagreeable fellows.” Some of them were to dine with the | |
Phillipses the next day, and their aunt promised to make her husband call | |
on Mr. Wickham, and give him an invitation also, if the family from | |
Longbourn would come in the evening. This was agreed to, and Mrs. Phillips | |
protested that they would have a nice comfortable noisy game of lottery | |
tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards. The prospect of such | |
delights was very cheering, and they parted in mutual good spirits. Mr. | |
Collins repeated his apologies in quitting the room, and was assured with | |
unwearying civility that they were perfectly needless. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what she had seen pass | |
between the two gentlemen; but though Jane would have defended either or | |
both, had they appeared to be in the wrong, she could no more explain such | |
behaviour than her sister. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Collins on his return highly gratified Mrs. Bennet by admiring Mrs. | |
Phillips's manners and politeness. He protested that, except Lady | |
Catherine and her daughter, he had never seen a more elegant woman; for | |
she had not only received him with the utmost civility, but even pointedly | |
included him in her invitation for the next evening, although utterly | |
unknown to her before. Something, he supposed, might be attributed to his | |
connection with them, but yet he had never met with so much attention in | |
the whole course of his life. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
<a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> | |
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> | |
</p> | |
<div style="height: 4em;"> | |
<br /><br /><br /><br /> | |
</div> | |
<h2> | |
Chapter 16 | |
</h2> | |
<p> | |
As no objection was made to the young people's engagement with their aunt, | |
and all Mr. Collins's scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for a single | |
evening during his visit were most steadily resisted, the coach conveyed | |
him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton; and the girls had | |
the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawing-room, that Mr. | |
Wickham had accepted their uncle's invitation, and was then in the house. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
When this information was given, and they had all taken their seats, Mr. | |
Collins was at leisure to look around him and admire, and he was so much | |
struck with the size and furniture of the apartment, that he declared he | |
might almost have supposed himself in the small summer breakfast parlour | |
at Rosings; a comparison that did not at first convey much gratification; | |
but when Mrs. Phillips understood from him what Rosings was, and who was | |
its proprietor—when she had listened to the description of only one | |
of Lady Catherine's drawing-rooms, and found that the chimney-piece alone | |
had cost eight hundred pounds, she felt all the force of the compliment, | |
and would hardly have resented a comparison with the housekeeper's room. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion, | |
with occasional digressions in praise of his own humble abode, and the | |
improvements it was receiving, he was happily employed until the gentlemen | |
joined them; and he found in Mrs. Phillips a very attentive listener, | |
whose opinion of his consequence increased with what she heard, and who | |
was resolving to retail it all among her neighbours as soon as she could. | |
To the girls, who could not listen to their cousin, and who had nothing to | |
do but to wish for an instrument, and examine their own indifferent | |
imitations of china on the mantelpiece, the interval of waiting appeared | |
very long. It was over at last, however. The gentlemen did approach, and | |
when Mr. Wickham walked into the room, Elizabeth felt that she had neither | |
been seeing him before, nor thinking of him since, with the smallest | |
degree of unreasonable admiration. The officers of the ——shire | |
were in general a very creditable, gentlemanlike set, and the best of them | |
were of the present party; but Mr. Wickham was as far beyond them all in | |
person, countenance, air, and walk, as <i>they</i> were superior to the | |
broad-faced, stuffy uncle Phillips, breathing port wine, who followed them | |
into the room. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was | |
turned, and Elizabeth was the happy woman by whom he finally seated | |
himself; and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into | |
conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, made her feel | |
that the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered | |
interesting by the skill of the speaker. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
With such rivals for the notice of the fair as Mr. Wickham and the | |
officers, Mr. Collins seemed to sink into insignificance; to the young | |
ladies he certainly was nothing; but he had still at intervals a kind | |
listener in Mrs. Phillips, and was by her watchfulness, most abundantly | |
supplied with coffee and muffin. When the card-tables were placed, he had | |
the opportunity of obliging her in turn, by sitting down to whist. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“I know little of the game at present,” said he, “but I shall be glad to | |
improve myself, for in my situation in life—” Mrs. Phillips was very | |
glad for his compliance, but could not wait for his reason. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Mr. Wickham did not play at whist, and with ready delight was he received | |
at the other table between Elizabeth and Lydia. At first there seemed | |
danger of Lydia's engrossing him entirely, for she was a most determined | |
talker; but being likewise extremely fond of lottery tickets, she soon | |
grew too much interested in the game, too eager in making bets and | |
exclaiming after prizes to have attention for anyone in particular. | |
Allowing for the common demands of the game, Mr. Wickham was therefore at | |
leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him, though | |
what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told—the | |
history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not even mention | |
that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly relieved. Mr. | |
Wickham began the subject himself. He inquired how far Netherfield was | |
from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in a hesitating | |
manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“About a month,” said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the subject | |
drop, added, “He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I | |
understand.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“Yes,” replied Mr. Wickham; “his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten | |
thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of | |
giving you certain information on that head than myself, for I have been | |
connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy.” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
Elizabeth could not but look surprised. | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after | |
seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting | |
yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?” | |
</p> | |
<p> | |
“As much as I ever wish to be,” cried Elizabeth very warmly. “I have spent | |
four days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable.” | |