Jane Austin - Pride and Prejudice

“Indeed I do not dare.”

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.

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.

She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by

talking of their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in

such an alliance.

“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.”

“Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?”

“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?”

“It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but

their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine,

might be copied.”

At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst and

Elizabeth herself.

“I did not know that you intended to walk,” said Miss Bingley, in

some confusion, lest they had been overheard.

“You used us abominably ill,” answered Mrs. Hurst, “running away

without telling us that you were coming out.”

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:

“This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go

into the avenue.”

But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with

them, laughingly answered:

“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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching

Mr. Darcy’s progress through _his_ book, as in reading her own;

and she was perpetually either making some enquiry, 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.”

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:

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would

not be near so much like a ball.”

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:

“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.”

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