PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol. 1

chapter 1

IT is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in

possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

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 as the rightful property of some one or other of

their daughters.

"My dear Mr. Bennet," said his lady to him one day, "have

you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"

Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.

"But it is," returned she; "for Mrs. Long has just been here,

and she told me all about it."

Mr. Bennet made no answer.

"Do not you want to know who has taken it?" cried his wife

impatiently.

" You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it."

This was invitation enough.

"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."

"What is his name?"

"Bingley."

"Is he married or single?"

"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!

"How so? how can it affect them?"

"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."

"Is that his design in settling here?"

"Design! nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very

likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore

you must visit him as soon as he comes."

"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

might like you the best of the party."

"My dear, you flatter me. I certainly have had my share of

beauty, but I do not pretend to be any thing extraordinary

now. When a woman has five grown up daughters, she ought

to give over thinking of her own beauty."

"In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to

think of."

"But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley

when he comes into the neighbourhood."

"It is more than I engage for, I assure you."

"But consider your daughters. Only think what an establish-

ment 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 new comers. Indeed you must go, for

it will be impossible for us to visit him, if you do not."

"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 which

ever he chuses of the girls; though I must throw in a good

word for my little Lizzy."

"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 her the preference."

"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."

"Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such

way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no com-

passion on my poor nerves."

"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 twenty years at least."

"Ah! you do not know what I suffer."

"But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young

men of four thousand a year come into the neighbourhood."

"It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come since

you will not visit them."

"Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty I

will visit them all."

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 under-

stand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develope.

he was a woman of mean understanding, little information,

and uncertain temper. When she was discontented she fancied

herself nervous. The business ofher life was to get her daugh-

ters married; its solace was visiting and news.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol.1

chapter 2

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,

"I hope Mr. Bingley will like it Lizzy."

"We are not in a way to know what Mr. Bingley likes," said

her mother resentfully, "since we are not to visit."

"But you forget, mama," said Elizabeth, 'that we shall meet

him at the assemblies, and that Mrs. Long has promised to

introduce him "

"I do not believc Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She

has two neices ofher own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman,

and I have no opinion of her."

"No more have I," said Mr. Bennet; "and I am glad to find

that you do not depend on her serving you."

Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply; but unable to

contain herself, began scolding one of her daughters.

"Don't keep coughing so, Kitty, for heaven's sake! Have a

little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces."

"Kitty has no discretion in her coughs," said her father;

"she times them ill."

"I do not cough for my own amusement," replied Kitty

fretfully.

"When is your next ball to be, Lizzy?""

"To-morrow fortnight."

"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."

"Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend,

and introduce Mr. Bingley to her."

"Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not

acquainted with him myself; how can you be so teazing?"

"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 we do not venture, somebody

else will; and after all, Mrs. Long and her neices must stand

their chance; and therefore, as she will think it an act of kind-

ness, if you declinc the office, I will take it on myself."

The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only,

"Nonsense, nonsense!"

"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 there. What say you, Mary? for you are a young lady

of deep reflection I know, and read great books, and make

extracts."

Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew

not how.

"While Mary is adjusting her ideas," he continued, "let us

return to Mr. Bingley."

"I am sick of Mr. Bingley," cried his wife.

"I am sorry to hear that; but why did not you tell me so

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 acquain-

tance now."

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.

"How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I

knew I should persuade you at last. I was sure you loved

our 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."

"Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you chuse," said

Mr. Bennet; and, as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with

the raptures of his wife.

"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 acquaintance every day; but for your sakes, we

would do any thing. Lydia, my love, though you are the

youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the

next ball."

"Oh!" said Lydia stoutly, "I am not afraid; for though I am

the youngest, I'm the tallest."

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.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol.1

chapter 3

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 oftheir 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.

"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."

In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet's visit, and

sat about ten minutes with him in his library. He had enter-

tained 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.

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, &c. Mrs. Bennet was quite dis-

concerted. 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 ball

assembly. The girls grieved over such a large number of ladies;

but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing, that

instead of twelve, he had 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 oldest, and

another young man.

Mr. Bingley was good looking and gentlmanlike; he had

a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. 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

after his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. The

gentleman 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 un-

worthy to be compared with his friend.

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 intro-

duced 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 every body 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 overhear 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 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; and 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 towards

him. She told the story however with great spirit among her

friends; for she had a lively, playful disposition, which

delighted in any thing 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 to be never 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

all his wife's views on the stranger would be disappointed; but

he soon found that he had a very 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. Every body 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 ancle in the first dance!"

"Oh! my dear," continued Mrs. Bennet, "I am quite

delighted with him. He is so excessively handsome! and his

sisters are charming women. I never in my life saw any

thing 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 rude-

ness 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 dis-

agreeable, 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."

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol.1

chapter 4

WHEN Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had

been cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed

to her sister 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

an 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 women 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 any body. All the world are

good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill

of a human being in my life."

"I would wish not to be hasty in censuring any one; 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 honestly blind to the follies

and nonsense of others! Affectation of candour is common

enough; -- one meets it every where. But to be candid with-

out ostentation or design -- to take the good of every body'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."

"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."

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 judgment too

unassailed by any attention to herself, she was very little dis-

posed to approve them. They were in fact very fine ladies,

not deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in

the power of being agreeable where 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,

Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly an

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.

His sisters were very anxious for his having an estate of his

own; but though he was now established only 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 recom-

mendation 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.

Between him and Darcy there was a very, steady, friendship

in spite of a great opposition of character. -- Bingley was

endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, ductility of his

temper, though no disposition could offer a greater contrast

to his own, and though with his own he never appeared dis-

satisfied. On the strength of Darcy's regard Bingley had the

firmest reliance, and of his judgment 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 offence.

The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly

was sufficiently characteristic. Bingley had never met with

pleasanter people or prettier girls in his life; every body 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 col-

lection 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.

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 should not object to

know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore established as a

sweet girl, and their brother felt authorised by such com-

mendation to think of her as he chose.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol.1

chapter 5

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 knight-

hood 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 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 himselfsolely 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 every body. By nature in-

offensive, friendly and obliging, his presentation at St

James's had made him courteous.

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.

That the Miss Lucases and the Miss Bennets should meet

to talk over a ball was absolutely necessary; and the morn-

ing after the assembly brought the former to Longbourn to

hear and to communicate.

" You began the evening well, Charlotte," said Mrs. Bennet

with civil self-command to Miss Lucas. "You were Mr.

Bingley's first choice."

"Yes; -- but he seemed to like his second better."

"Oh! -- you mean Jane, I suppose -- because he danced with

her twicc. To be sure that did seem as if he admired her --

indeed I rather believe he did -- I heard something about it --

but I hardly know what -- something about Mr. Robinson."

"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 which 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."

"Upon my word! -- Well, that was very decided indeed --

that does seem as if -- but however, it may all come to

nothing you know."

"My overhearings were more to the purpose than yours,

Eliza," said Charlotte. "Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listen-

ing to as his friend, is he? -- Poor Eliza! -- to be only just

toterable,"

"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 with-

out once opening his lips."

"Are you quite sure, Ma'am? -- is not there a little mistake?"

said Jane. -- "I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her."

"Aye -- because she asked him at last how he liked Nether-

field, and he could not help answering her; -- but she said he

seemed very angry at being spoke to."

"Miss Bingley told me," said Jane, "that he never speaks

much unless among his intimate acquaintance. With them he

is remarkably agreeable."

"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; every body says that he is ate 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."

"I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long," said Miss

Lucas, "but I wish he had danced with Eliza."

"Another time, Lizzy," said her mother, "I would not dance

with him, if I were you."

"I believe, Ma'am, I may safely promise you never to dance

with him."

"His pride," said Miss Lucas, "does not offend me so much

as pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One can-

not wonder that so very fine a young man, with family,

fortune, every thing in his favour, should think highly of him-

self. If I may so express it, he has a right to be proud."

"That is very true," replied Elizabeth, "and I could easily

forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine."

"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 ofus who do not cherish a feel-

ing 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 synonimously. A person may

be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion

ofourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us."

"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

every day."

"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."

The boy protested that she should not; she continued to

declare that she would, and the argument ended only with

the visit.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol. 1

chapter 6

THE ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Nether-

field. 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 intoler-

able 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 pre-

ference which she had begun to entertain for him from the

first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but she con-

sidered 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 some-

times 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 chuses."

"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 diued 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 twelve-month. 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 after-

wards 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 obsevering Mr. Bingleys'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

endered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression

of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others

qually 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 playful-

ess. 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 immedi-

ately 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 any body 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, how-

ever, she added, "Very well; if it must be so, it must." And

"ravely 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 conse-

quence 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 conversa-

tion, 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 con-

sider 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 delight-

fully;' 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

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 deter-

nined; 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 reflfiections. 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 con-

vinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol. 1

chapter 7

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.

She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a

lerk to their father, and succeeded him in the business, and a

brother settled in London in a respectable line of trade.

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 morn-

ing hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and how-

ever 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 head

quarters.

Their visits to Mrs. Philips 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. Philips visited them all,

and this opened to his nieces a source of felicity unknown

before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr.

Bingley's large fortune, the mention of which gave anima-

tion to their mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed

to the regimentals of an ensign.

After listening one morning to their effusions on this sub-

ject, Mr. Bennet coolly observed,

"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."

.. <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.

"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 any body's children, it should

not be of my own however."

"If my children are silly I must hope to be always sensible

of it."

"Yes -- but as it happens, they are all of them very clever."

"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 "

"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."

"Mama," 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."

Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the

footman with a note for Miss Bennet; it came from Nether-

field, and the servant waited for an answer. Mrs. Bennet's eyes

sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, while

her daughter read,

"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."

"It is from Miss Bingley," said Jane, and then read it

aloud.

"My dear Friend,

"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 the receipt of this. My brother and

the gentlemen are to dine with the officers. Yours ever,

"CAROLINE BINGLEY."

"With the officers!" cried Lydia. "I wonder my aunt did

not tell us of that."

"Dining out," said Mrs. Bennet, "that is very unlucky."

"Can I have the carriage?" said Jane.

"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it

seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night."

"That would be a good scheme," said Elizabeth, "if you were

sure that they would not offer to send her home."

"Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to

go to Meryton; and the Hursts have no horses to theirs."

"I had much rather go in the coach."

"But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am

sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are not -

they?"

"They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get

them."

"But if you have got them to day," said Elizabeth, "my

mother's purpose will be answered."

She did at last extort from her father an acknowledg-

ment 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.

"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:

"My dearest Lizzy,

"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 home 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 head-ache there is not

much the matter with me.

"Yours, &c."

"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."

"Oh! I am not at all afraid of her dying. People do not die

of little trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long

is she stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her,

if I could have the carriage."

Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to

her, though the carriage was not to be had; and as she was no

horse-woman, walking was her only alternative. She declared

her resolution.

"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."

"I shall be very fit to see Jane -- which is all I want."

"Is this a hint to me, Lizzy," said her father, "to send for

the horses?"

"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."

"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."

"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.

"If we make haste," said Lydia, as they walked along,

"perhaps we may see something of Captain Carter before

he goes."

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, jump-

ing over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient

activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house,

with weary ancles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with

the warmth of exercise.

She was shewn 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 her-

self, 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.

Her enquiries 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, how-

ever, to much conversation, and when Miss Bingley left them

together, could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude

for the extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth

silently attended her.

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 shewed 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 else-

where.

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

into an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present.

Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dis-

patched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay,

and bring back a supply of clothes.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol. 1

chapter 8

AT five o'clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half past

six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. To the civil enquiries

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 original dislike.

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 prefer

a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her.

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 conversa-

tion, no stile, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the

same, and added,

"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."

"She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my couin-

tenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be

scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold?

" Her hair so untidy, so blowsy!"

"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."

"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."

" You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure," said Miss Bingley,

"and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see

your sister make such an exhibition."

"Certainly not."

"To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or what-

ever it is, above her ancles in dirt, and alone, quite alone!

what could she mean by it? It seems to me to shew an abomin-

able sort of conceited independence a most country town

indifference to decorum."

"It shews an affection for her sister that is very pleasing "

said Bingley.

"I am afraid, Mr. Darcy," observed Miss Bingley in a half

whisper, "that this adventure has rather affected your admira-

tion of her fine eyes "

"Not at all," he replied; "they were brightened by the

exercise." -- A short pause followed this speech, and Mrs.

Hurst began again.

"I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet, she is reaIly

at very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well

settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low con-

nections, I am afraid there is no chance of it."

"I think I have heard you say, that their uncle is an attorney

in Meryton."

"Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near

.. <cheapside."

"That is capital," added her sister, and they both laughed

heartily.

"If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside," cried

Bingley, "it would not make them one jot less agreeable."

"But it must very materially lessen their chance of marry-

ing men of any consideration in the world," replied Darcy.

To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisiers

gave it their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some

time at the expense of their dear friend's vulgar relations.

With a renewal of tenderness, however, they repaired to

her room on leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till

su moned 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 asleep, and when it appeared

to her rather right than pleasant that she should go down

stairs 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.

"Do you prefer reading to cards?" said he; "that is rather

singular."

"Miss Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, "despises cards

She is a great reader and has no pleasure in anything else."

"I deserve neither such praise nor such censure," cried

Elizabeth; "I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in

many things."

"In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure," said

Bingley; "and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her

quite well."

Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked

towards a table where a few books were lying. He imme-

diately offered to fetch her others; all that his library afforded.

"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 look into."

Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly

with those in the room.

"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!"

"It ought to be good," he replied, "it has been the work of

many generations."

"And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are

always buying books."

"I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in

such days as these,"

"Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the

beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your

house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley."

I wish it may."

"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."

"With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy

will sell it."

"I am talking of possibilities, Charles."

"Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible

to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation "

Elizabeth was so much caught by 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 her-

self between Mr. Bingley and his eldest sister to observe

the game.

"Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?" said Miss

Bingley; "will she be as tall as I am?"

"I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's

height or rather taller "

"How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody

who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such man-

ners. and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her per-

formance on the piano-forte is exquisite."

"It is amazing to me," said Bingley, "how young ladies can

have patience to be so very accomplished, as they all are."

"All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do

you mean?"

"Yes all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover

skreens and net purses. I scarcely know any one 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."

"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 skreen. 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."

"Nor I, I am sure," said Miss Bingley.

"Then," observed Elizabeth, "you must comprehend a great

deal in your idea of an accomplished women."

"Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it."

"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

knowledgc 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."

"All this she must possess," added Darcy, "and to all this

she must yet add something more substantial, in the improve-

ment of her mind by extensive reading."

"I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six

accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your know-

ing any."

"Are you so severe upon your own sex, as to doubt the

possibility 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.

"Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the door was

closed on her, "is one of those young ladies who seek to recom-

mend 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 meanness in all the arts which

ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. What-

ever 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's being sent for immediately; while his sisters con-

vinced that no country advice could be ofany service, recom-

mended 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 thiers brothers 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

They solaced their wretchedness, however, by duets after

supper, while he could find no better reliefto his feelings than

by giving his housekeeper directions that every possible atten-

tion might be paid to the sick lady and her sister.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol. 1

chapter 9

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 judgment of her situation. The note

was immediately dispatched, and its contents as quickly com-

lied 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;

either 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 shall receive every pos-

sible 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 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 that 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 there-

fore 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 necessarily 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 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 some-

thing 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."

Every body 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 not it, 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, Mama, you are mistaken," said Elizabeth, blush-

ing for her mother. "You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only

meant that there were not such a variety of people to be met

with in the country as in 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 eye 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 her coming away.

"Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agree-

able man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley -- is not he? so much the

man of fashion! so genteel and so easy! -- He has always some-

thing to say to every body. -- That is my idea of good breed-

ing; and those persons who fancy themselves very important

and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter."

"Did Charlotte dine with you?"

"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; my daughters are brought up

differently. But every body is to judge for themselves, and the

Lucases are very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity

they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte so very

plain -- but then she is our particular friend."

"She seems a very pleasant young woman," said Bingley.

"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 any body better looking. It is what every

body says. I do not trust my own partiality. When she was only

fifteen, there was a gentleman 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."

"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!"

"I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love"

said Darcy.

"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Every thing 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."

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 per-

formed her part indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs.

Bennet was satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her car-

riage. 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 ofit was, that the

youngest should tax Mr. Bingley with having promised on

his first coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.

Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine

omplexion and good-humoured countenance; a favourite

with hcr 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 attentions 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

all, 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.

"I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engage-

ment, 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 while she is ill."

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 your 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."

Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Eliza-

beth returned instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her rela-

tions' 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 her, in spite of all Miss Bingley's

witticisms on fine eyes.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol. 1

chapter 10

THE day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs.

Hurst and Miss Bingley had spent some hours of the morn-

ing 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 atten-

tion by messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley

were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was obsevering their game.

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 hand-writing, 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 unison with her opinion of each.

"How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!"

He made no answer.

"You write uncommonly fast."

"You are mistaken. I write rather slowly."

"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the

course of the year! Letters of business too! How odious I

should think them!"

"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of

to yours."

"Pray tell your sister that I long to see her."

"I have already told her so once, by your desire."

"I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for

you. I mend pens remarkably well."

"Thank you -- but I always mend my own."

"How can you contrive to write so even?"

He was silent.

"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."

"Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write

again? -- At present I have not room to do them justice."

"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?"

"They are generally long; but whether always charming,

it is not for me to determine."

"It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long

letter, with ease, cannot write ill."

"That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline," cried

her brother -- "because he does not write with ease. He studies

too much for words of four syllables. -- Do not you, Darcy?"

"My stile of writing is very different from yours."

"Oh!" cried Miss Bingley, "Charles writes in the most care-

ess way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots

the rest."

"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."

"Your humility, Mr. Bingley," said Elizabeth, "must disarm

reproof."

"Nothing is more deceitful," said Darcy, "than the appear-

ance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and

sometimes an indirect boast.""

"And which of the two do you call my little recent piece of

modesty?"

"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 any thing with quickness is always much

prized 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 on 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 any one else?"

"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 believed 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

shew off before the ladies."

"I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means con-

vinced that you would be gone with such celerity. Your con --

duct would be quite as dependant 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."

"You have only proved by this," cried Elizabeth, "that Mr-

Bingley did not do justice to his own disposition. You have

shewn him off now much more than he did himself."

"I am exceedingly gratified," said Bingley, "by your convert-

ing 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 the better of me, if under such a circumstance I were to

give a flat denial, and ride offas fast as I could "

"Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your

original intention as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering

to it?"

"Upon my word I cannot exactly explain the matter, Darcy

must speak for himself."

"You expect me to account for opinions which you chuse

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 su -

posed to desire his return to the house, and the delay of his

plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering one argu-

ment in favour of its propriety."

"To yield readily -- easily -- to the persuasion of a friend is no

merit with you."

"To yield without conviction is no comliment to the under-

standing of either."

"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 wait-

ing for arguments to reason one into it. I am not particularly

speaking of such a case as you have su osed about Mr

Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance

occurs, before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour there-

upon, 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?"

"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?"

"By all means," cried Bingley; "Let us hear all the particulars,

not forgetting thier comparitive height and size; fo 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

aweful 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."

Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could per-

ceive that he was rather offended; and therefore checked he

laugh. Miss Bingley warmly resented the indignity he had

received, in an expostulation with her broth r for talking suc

nonsense.

"I see your design, Bingley," said his friend. -- "You dislike

an argument, and want to silence this."

"Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. I

you and Miss Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the

room, I shall be very thankful; and then you may say whateve

you like of me."

"What you ask," said Elizabeth, "is no sacrifice on my side

and Mr. Darcy had much better finish his letter,"

Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter.

When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley

and Elizabeth for the indulgence of some music. Miss Bingle

moved with alacrity to the piano-forte, and after a polite

request that Elizabeth would lead the way, which the other a

politely and more earnestly negatived, she seated herself,

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

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 a something about

her more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of

right, than in any other person present. The supposition did not

aain her. She liked him too little to care for his approbation

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 --

"Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize

such an opportunity of dancing a reel?"

She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question,

with some surprise at her silence

"Oh!" said she, "I heard you before; but I could not immedi-

ately 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 con-

tempt. 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."

"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 bejealous. and her

great anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane, recel-ved

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 the 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 any thing else to propose for my domestic

felicity?"

"Oh! yes. -- Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt

.. <philips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next

to your great uncle the judge. They are in the same pro-

fession, you know; only in different lines. As for your Eliza-

beth's picture, you must not attempt to 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 eye-lashes, 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, "in

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 group'd,

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.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol. 1

chapter 11

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 towards

Darcy, and she had something to say to him before he had

advanced many steps. He addressed himself directly 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 fire-

place, that she might be farther from the door. He then sat

down by her, and talked scarcely to any one 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 intel-

ligence 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

sophas and go to sleep. Darcy took up a book; Miss Bingley

did the same; and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in play-

ing 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 read-

ing her own; and she was perpetually either making some

inquiry, or looking at his page. She could not win him, how-

ever, 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 any thing 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 of

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 deter-

mine 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 chuses, 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 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 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 in that quarter as Elizabeth herself could be, and

unconsciously closed his book. He was directly invited to joln

their party, but he declined it, observing, that he could

imagine but two motives for their chusing 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 Eliza-

beth whether she could at all understand him?

"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."

Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing

Mr. Darcy in any thing, and persevered therefore in requiring

an explanation of his two motives.

"I have not the smallest objection to explaining them," said

he, as soon as she allowed him to speak. "You either chuse 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 should be completely in your way;

-- and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by

the fire."

"Oh! shocking!" cried Miss Bingley. "I never heard any

thing so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a

speech? "

"Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination," said

Elizabeth. "We can all plague and punish one another. Teaze

him -- laugh at him. -- Intimate as you are, you must know how

it is to be done."

"But upon my honour I do not. I do assure you that my

intimacy has not yet taught me that. Teaze calmness of temper

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."

"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 me to have many such

acquaintance. I dearly love a laugh."

"Miss Bingley," said he, "has given me credit for more 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."

"Certainly," replied Elizabeth -- "there are such people, but

I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is

wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies

do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. --

But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without."

"Perhaps that is not possible for any one. But it has been

the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often

expose a strong understanding to ridicule."

"Such as vanity and pride."

"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride -- where there

is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good

regulation."

Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.

"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume," said

Miss Bingley; -- "and pray what is the result?"

"I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect.

He owns it himself without disguise."

"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 offences 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 for ever."

"That is a failing indeed!" -- cried Elizabeth. "Implacable

resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your

fault well. -- I really cannot laugh at it you are safe from

me."

"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some

particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best

education can overcome."

"And your defect is a propensity to hate every body."

"And yours," he replied with a smile, "is wilfully to mis-

understand them."

"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."

Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the piano

forte was opened, and Darcy, after a few moments recol-

lection, was not sorry for it. He began to feel the danger of

paying Elizabeth too much attention.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol. 1

chapter 12

IN consequence of an agreement between the sisters, Eliza-

beth wrote the next morning to her 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

hem 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.

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.

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.

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 her, and more

teazing than usual to himself. He wisely resolved to be parti-

cularly careful that no sign of admiration should now escape

him, nothing that could elevate her with the hope of influenc-

ing his felicity; sensible that if such an idea had been sug-

gested, 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.

On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agree-

able to almost all, took place. Miss Bingley's civility to Eliza-

beth 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 Long-

bourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most tenderly, she

even shook hands with the former. -- Elizabeth took leave of

the whole party in the liveliest spirits.

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.

They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough

bass and human nature; and had some new extracts to admire,

and some new observations of thread-bare morality to listen

to. Catherine and Lydia had information for them of a dif-

ferent 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.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol. 1

chapter 13

"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."

"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 my dinners are good enough for her. I do

not believe she often sees such at home."

"The person of whom I speak, is a gentleman and a stranger."

Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled. -- "A gentleman and a stranger!

It is Mr. Bingley I am sure. Why Jane -- you never dropt a

word of this; you sly thing! 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."

"It is not Mr. Bingley," said her husband; "it is a person

whom I never saw in the whole course of my life."

This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure

of being eagerly questioned by his wife and five daughters

at once.

After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he

thus explained. "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."

"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."

Jane and Elizabeth attempted to explain to her the nature

of an entail. They had often attempted 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.

"It certainly is a most iniquitous affair," said Mr. Bennet,

"and nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt ofinherit-

ing Longbourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you

may perhaps be a little softened by his manner of expressing

himself."

"No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it was very

impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical.

I hate such false friends. Why could not he keep on quarrelling

with you, as his father did before him?"

"Why, indeed, he does seem to have had some filial scruples

on that head, as you will hear."

Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent,

I5th October.

DEAR SIR,

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

his memory for me to be on good terms with any one, 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 pre-

ferred 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 of good-will 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

pologise 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 i{8th, by four o'clock,

and shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the

Saturday se'night 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,

WILLIAM COLLINS.

"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."

"There is some sense in what he says about the girls how-

ever; and if he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall

not be the person to discourage him."

"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."

Elizabeth was chiefly struck with his extraordinary defer-

ence for Lady Catherine, and his kind intention of christen-

ing, marrying, and burying his parishioners whenever it were

required.

"He must be an oddity, I think," said she. "I cannot make

him out. -- There is something very pompous in his stile. --

And what can he mean by apologizing for being next in the

entail? -- We cannot suppose he would help it, if he could. --

.. <can he be a sensible man, sir?"

"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."

"In point of composition," said Mary, "his letter does not

seem defective. The idea of the olive branch perhaps is not

wholly new, yet I think it is well expressed."

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 re-

paring to see him with a degree ofcomposure, which astonished

her husband a daughters.

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 well disposed of in marriage. This gallantry was not

much to the taste of some of his hearers, but Mrs. Bennet

who quarrelled with no compliments, answered most readily,

"You are very kind, sir, 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."

"You allude perhaps to the entail of this estate."

"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 you, for

much things I know are all chance in this world. There is no

knowing how estates will go when once they come to be

entailed."

"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 -- "

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 every thing 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 tum was highly

admired; and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins,

the excellence ofits cookery was owing. But here he was set

right 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.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

vol. 1

chapter 14

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,