Jane Austin - Pride and Prejudice

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.

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.

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“_You_ are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said

Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

“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.”

“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 _me_; 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.”

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.

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.

“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 _that_,

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 enquired 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

_Boulanger_—”

“If he had had any compassion for _me_,” 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!”

“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—”

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.

“But I can assure you,” she added, “that Lizzy does not lose much

by not suiting _his_ 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.”

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.

“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!”

“He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man

ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is

thereby complete.”

“I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second

time. I did not expect such a compliment.”

“Did not you? _I_ did for you. But that is one great difference

between us. Compliments always take _you_ by surprise, and _me_

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.”

“Dear Lizzy!”

“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.”

“I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always

speak what I think.”

“I know you do; and it is _that_ which makes the wonder. With

_your_ 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