The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield.
The visit was returned in due form. Miss Bennet's pleasing
manners grew on the good will 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 them 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 every body, 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 did admire her; and to her 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.
"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 begin 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 woman had better shew more 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."
"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."
"Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane's disposition
as you do."
"But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour
to conceal it, he must find it out."
"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 leisure for falling in love as much as
she chooses."
"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 in company with him four times. This is
not quite enough to make her understand his character."
"Not as you represent it. Had she merely dined with
him, she might only have discovered whether he had a good appetite;
but you must remember that four evenings have been also spent
together—and four evenings may do a great deal."
"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."
"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 before-hand,
it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always
contrive 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."
"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."
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 had hardly 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 no where, and who had not thought her handsome enough
to dance with.
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. "What does Mr.
Darcy mean," said she to Charlotte, "by listening to my conversation
with Colonel Forster?"
"That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer."
"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."
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,
"Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly
well just now, when I was teazing Colonel Forster to give us
a ball at Meryton?"
"With great energy;—but it is a subject which always
makes a lady energetic."
"You are severe on us."
"It will be her turn soon to be teazed," said Miss
Lucas. "I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know
what follows."
"You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!—always
wanting me to play and sing before anybody and every body!—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 every body here is of course familiar
with—"Keep your breath to cool your porridge,''—and
I shall keep mine to swell my song."
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.
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.
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 own thoughts to perceive
that Sir William Lucas was his neighbour, till Sir William
thus began.
"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 societies."
"Certainly, Sir;—and it has the advantage also of being
in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world.—Every
savage can dance."
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."
"You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, Sir."
"Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from
the sight. Do you often dance at St. James's?"
"Never, sir."
"Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?"
"It is a compliment which I never pay to any place, if I can
avoid it."
"You have a house in town, I conclude?"
Mr. Darcy bowed.
"I had once some thoughts 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."
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 notion of doing a very
gallant thing, and called out to her,
"My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you 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,
"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."
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.
"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."
"Mr. Darcy is all politeness," said Elizabeth, smiling.
"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?"
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.
"I can guess the subject of your reverie."
"I should imagine not."
"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 these people!—What would I give to hear your strictures
on them!"
"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."
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,
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
"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?"
"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."
"Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the
matter as absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law,
indeed, and of course she will be always at Pemberley with
you."
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. |