Pride and Prejudice - Vol 1, Chapters 6-9

Chapter 6 The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit was returned in due form. Miss Bennet's pleasing manners grew on the goodwill of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. And though the mother was found to be intolerable and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, a wish of being better acquainted with them was expressed towards the two eldest. By Jane this attention was received with the greatest pleasure. But Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their treatment of everybody, hardly accepting even her sister, and could not like them. Though their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value all arising in all probability from the influence of their brother's admiration. It was generally evident, whenever they met, that he did admire her, and to her it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a way to be very much in love. But she considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane united with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper, and a uniform cheerfulness of manner which would guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas. It may perhaps be pleasant, replied Charlotte, to be able to impose on the public in such a case. But it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affections 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 show more affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sisters 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 endeavor 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 conversation together. Jane should therefore make the most of every half hour in which she can command his attention. When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling in love, as much as she chooses. Your plan is a good one, replied Elizabeth, where nothing is in question, but the desire of being well married. And if I were determined to get a rich husband or any husband, I daresay 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 Maritain. 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 represented. Had she merely dined with him, she might only have discovered whether he had a good appetite. But you must remember that four evenings have been also spent together, and four evenings may do a great deal. Yes, those four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both like Vinon 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 tomorrow, 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 beforehand, it doesn't advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation. And it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life. You make me laugh, Charlotte. But it is not sound. You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself. Occupied and observing Mr. Bingley's attention 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 criticize. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had hardly a good feature in her face. Then he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing. And in spite of his ascertaining that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly unaware. To her he was only the man who made himself agreeable nowhere, 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 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 Forrester. That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer. But if he does it anymore, I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him. On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such a subject to him, which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she turned to him and said, Do not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forrester to give us a ball at Mariton? With great energy, but it is a subject that always makes a lady energetic. You are severe on us. It will be her turn soon to be teased, said Miss Lucas. I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows. You are a very strange creature by way of a friend, always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody. 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' persevering, however, she added, Very well, if it must be so, it must. And gravely glancing at Mr. Darcy, there is a fine old saying which everybody here is of course familiar with. Keep your breath to cool your porridge, and I shall keep mine to swell my song. Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her sister Mary, who having in consequence of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always impatient for display. Mary had neither genius nor taste, and though vanity had given her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing half so well. And Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Ira Scheers at the request of her younger sisters, who with some of the Lucas's and two or three officers joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room. Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too much engrossed by his own thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas was his neighbour till Sir William thus began. What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy. There is nothing like dancing, after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of Polish societies. Certainly, Sir, and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less Polish societies of the world. Sir William only smiled. Your friend performs delightfully, he continued after a pause on seeing Bingley join the group, and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy. You saw me dance at Maritain, 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 won some thoughts of fixing in town myself, for I am fond of superior society, but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas. He paused in hopes of an answer, but his companion was not disposed to make any, and Elizabeth, at that instant moving towards them, he was struck with the notion of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to her. My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance. I am sure, when so much beauty is before you. And taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy, who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly drew back and said with some discomposure to Sir William, Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I move this way in order to beg for a partner. Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the honour of her hand. But in vain. Elizabeth was determined, nor did Sir William at all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion. You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you, and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half hour. Mr. Darcy is all politeness, said Elizabeth, smiling. He is indeed, but considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complacence, 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 were 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 his eyes on his face, and desired he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. Mr. Darcy replied with great intrapidity. Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, repeated Miss Bingley, I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favorite? 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 always be at Pemberley with you. He listened to her with perfect indifference, while she chose to entertain herself in this manner, and as his composure convinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long. Chapter 7 Mr. Bennet's property consisted almost entirely in a state of two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed in default of Ayre's 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 Maritain, and had left her four thousand pounds. She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a clerk 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 Maritain, 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 Maritain was necessary to assume their morning hours, and furnish conversation for the evening. And however 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 Maritain was the headquarters. Their visits to Mrs. Phillips were now productive of the most interesting intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of the officer's names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret, and at length they began to know the officer's themselves. Mr. Phillips 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 animation to their mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of an ensign. After listening one morning to their effusions on the subject, Mr. Bennett 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. Bennett, that you should be so ready to think your own children silly. If I wish to think slatingly of anybody'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 is happens, they're 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. Bennett, 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 to 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 Forrester looked very becoming the other night at Sir Williams and his regimentals. Mama, cried Lydia, Mayon says that Colonel Forrester 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 Clark's library. Mrs. Bennett was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a note for Miss Bennett. They came from Netherfield, and the servant waited for an answer. Mrs. Bennett'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, may cased and tell us, may cased 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 dying today 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 gentleman 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. Bennett, that is very unlucky. Can I have the carriage, said Jane? No, my dear, you'd 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 they would not offer to send her home. Oh, but the gentleman will have Mr. Bingley's shays to go to Mariton, and the hearse have no horses to theirs. I'd much rather go on the coach. But my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennett, are not they? They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them. But if you have got them today, said Elizabeth, my mother's purpose will be answered. She didn't last exhort from her father an acknowledgement 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 Miss Bennett, 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 Lizzie, 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, an accepting of sore throat and headache. There is not much the matter with me. Yours, etc. Well, my dear, said Mr. Bennett, 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 note 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 as 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 horsewoman, 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, Lizzie, 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 her 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 Maritain 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 Maritain, they parted, the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one of the officer's wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise. She was shown into the breakfast parlor 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 herself, 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 humor 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 occasions justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast. Her inquiries 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 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, however, to much conversation, and when Miss Bingley left them together could attempt little besides 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 showed for Jane. The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said as might be supposed, that she had caught a violent cold that they must endeavour to get the better of it. Advised her to return to bed, and promised her some drafts. 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 gentleman being out, they had in fact nothing to do elsewhere. 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 shays into an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay, and bring back a supply of clothes. 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 insolent 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 conversation, no style, 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 countenance. 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 blousy? 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 whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone, what could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an embomenal sort of conceited independence, a most country town indifference to decorum. It shows 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 admiration of her fine eyes. Not at all, he replied, they were brightened by the exercise. A short pause followed the speech, and Mrs. Hearst began again. I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet. She is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother in such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it. I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Maritain. 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 marrying men of any consideration in the world, replied Darcy. To this speech Bingley made no answer, but his sisters 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 parlor, and sat with her till summoned 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 downstairs herself. On entering the drawing room, she found the whole party at Lou, 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. Hearst looked at her with astonishment. Do you prefer reading to cards, said he? That is rather singular. Miss Eliza Bennett, 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 immediately 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 herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest sister to observe the game. Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring, said Miss Bingley, while she be as tall as I am? I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennett'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 manners, and so extremely accomplished for her age. Her performance 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 screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone 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 accomplishment, 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 screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than a 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 woman. 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 knowledge 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 improvement of her mind by extensive reading. I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing 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. Hearst 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. Hearst 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 Bennett said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own. And with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But in my opinion, it is a poultry 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. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable. Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue the subject. Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones being sent for immediately, while his sisters convinced that no country advice could be of any service, recommended and expressed to town for one of the most eminent physicians. This she would not hear of. But she was not so unwilling to comply with their brother's proposal, and it was settled that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if Miss Bennet were not decidedly better. Bingley was quite uncomfortable. His sisters declared that they were miserable. They sawless their wretchedness, however, by duets after supper, while he could find no better relief to his feelings than by giving his housekeeper directions that every possible attention might be paid to the sick lady and her sister. 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 inquiries which she very early received from Mr. Bingley by a housemaid, and sometime 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 complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast. Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been very miserable. But being satisfied on seeing her that her illness was not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield. She would not listen therefore to her daughter's proposal of being carried home. Neither did the apothecary, who arrived at the same time, think it 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.' "'Remove,' cried Bingley. It must not be thought of. My sister I am sure will not hear of her removal.' "'You may depend on it,' madam,' said Miss Bingley, with cold civility, that Miss Bennet shall receive every possible attention while she remains with us. Mrs. Bennet was perfuse 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 patients 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 therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here. "'That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,' said Elizabeth. "'You begin to comprehend me, do you?' cried he, turning towards her. "'Oh, yes, I understand you perfectly. I wish I might take this for a compliment, but to be so easily seen through, I am afraid as pitiful. That is, as it happens, it does not necessarily follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less esteemable than such a one as yours.' "'Lissie,' 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 study or 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 something new to be observed in them forever.' "'Yes, indeed,' cried Mrs. Bennet, "'offended by his manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. "'I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town.' "'Everybody was surprised, and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph. "'I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter. Is it not, Mr. Bingley?' "'When I am in the country,' he replied, "'I never wish to leave it. And when I am in town, it's pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.' "'I, 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, blushing for her mother. "'You quite mistook, Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there is not such a variety of people to be met within 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 neighborhood, I believe there are in few neighborhoods larger. I know we dine with foreign twenty families.' "'Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his countenance.' His sister was lest out-kid, 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 agreeable man, Sir William is. Mr. Bingley is not he. So much the man of fashion, so gentile and so easy. He has always something to say to everybody. That is my idea of good breeding. 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 everybody is to judge for themselves, and the Lucas's are very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome. Not that I think Charlotte is 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 know 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 anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own partiality. When she was only fifteen there was a gentleman at my brother's gardeners in town, so much in love with her, that my sister was a little bit more than a little bit more 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. Everything 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 Lizzie. Mr. Bingley was unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be civil also and say what the occasion required. She performed her part indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. 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 of it 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 complexion and good-humoured countenance, a favourite with her mother whose affection had brought her into public in an early age. She had high animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the attentions of the officers to whom her uncles, 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 ball, 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 engagement, 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 Marriedton again, and when you have given your ball, she added, I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Forrester it will be quite a shame if he does not. Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations' 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.