Jane Austin - Pride and Prejudice

of all this?”

“_I_ never saw such a woman. _I_ never saw such capacity, and

taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe united.”

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.

“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.”

“Undoubtedly,” replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly

addressed, “there is a meanness in _all_ the arts which ladies

sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears

affinity to cunning is despicable.”

Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to

continue the subject.

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.

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 enquiries 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.

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.

“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.”

“Removed!” cried Bingley. “It must not be thought of. My sister,

I am sure, will not hear of her removal.”

“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.”

Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments.

“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 _her_. 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.”

“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.”

“That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,” said

Elizabeth.

“You begin to comprehend me, do you?” cried he, turning towards

her.

“Oh! yes—I understand you perfectly.”

“I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily

seen through I am afraid is pitiful.”

“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.”

“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.”

“I did not know before,” continued Bingley immediately, “that you

were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study.”

“Yes, but intricate characters are the _most_ amusing. They have

at least that advantage.”

“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.”

“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new

to be observed in them for ever.”

“Yes, indeed,” cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of

mentioning a country neighbourhood. “I assure you there is quite

as much of _that_ going on in the country as in town.”

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.

“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?”

“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.”

“Aye—that is because you have the right disposition. But that

gentleman,” looking at Darcy, “seemed to think the country was

nothing at all.”

“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.”

“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.”

Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep

his countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her