Pride and Prejudice - Vol 1, Chapters 15-17

The standard is not enough. It's time for more. The new Acura ADX is crafted to ensure that every detail goes above and beyond. So what does that mean? It means more tech with a premium sound system and available Google built-in. More excitement with an available panoramic moonroof? More you! That's what it means to get behind the wheel of the Acura ADX. Get on the road and experience more than you ever thought possible. The new Acura ADX, crafted for more, explore the Acura ADX at Acura.com. It merely kept the necessary terms, without forming at it any useful acquaintance. The subjection in which his father had brought him up had given him originally great humility of manner. But it was now a good deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head, living in retirement, and the consequential feelings of early and unexpected prosperity. A fortunate chance had recommended him to lay to Catherine to Berg when the living of Hunsford was vacant. And their spectrarchy felt for her high rank and his veneration for her as his patroness, mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a clergyman, and his rights as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of pride and obssequiousness, self-importance, and humility. Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to marry. And in seeking a reconciliation with the long-born family, he had a wife in view, and he meant to choose one of the daughters, if he found them as handsome and amiable as they were represented by common report. This was his plan of amends, of atonement for inheriting their fathers estate, and he thought in an excellent one, full of eligibility and suitableness and excessively generous and disinterested on his own part. His plan did not vary on seeing them. Spenets' lovely face confirmed his views and established all his strictest notions of what was due to seniority. And for the first evening, she was his settled choice. The next morning, however, made an alteration. For an a quarter of an hour's tatted tett with Mrs. Bennett before breakfast, a conversation beginning with his parsinage house, and leading naturally to the avowel of his hopes, that a mistress for it might be found at long-born, produced from her, amid very complacent smiles and general encouragement, a caution against the very Jane he had fixed on. As to her younger daughters, she could not take upon her to say. She could not positively answer, but she did not know of any prepossession. Her eldest daughter, she must just mention, she felt incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged. Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth, and it was soon done. Don while Mrs. Bennett was stirring the fire. Elizabeth, equally next to Jane and birth and beauty, succeeded her, of course. Mrs. Bennett, treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon have two daughters married, and the man whom she could not bear to speak of the day before, was now high in her good graces. Lydia's intention of walking to Maryton was not forgotten. Every sister except Mary agreed to go with her, and Mr. Collins was to attend them, at the request of Mr. Bennett, who was most anxious to get rid of him, and have his library to himself. For, through their Mr. Collins had followed him after breakfast, and there he would continue, nominally engaged with one of the largest folios in the collection, but really, talking to Mr. Bennett, with little cessation of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such doings, discomposed Mr. Bennett exceedingly. In his library, he had been always sure of leisure and tranquility, and though prepared, as he told Elizabeth, to meet with Folly and Conceit in every other room in the house, he was used to be free with them there. His civility, therefore, was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their walk, and Mr. Collins, being in fact much better fitted for a walker than a reader, was extremely well pleased to close his large book and go. In pompous nothings on his side, and civilest sense on that of his cousins, their time passed till they entered Maryton. The attention of the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by him. Their eyes were immediately wandering up in the street in quest of the officers, and nothing less than a very smart bonnet indeed, or a really new Muslim in a shop window, could recall them. But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom they had never seen before, of most gentleman-like appearance, walking with an officer on the other side of the way. The officer was the very Mr. Denny, concerning whose return from London Lydia came to inquire, and he bowed as they passed. All were struck with the strangers air, all wondered who he could be, and Kitty and Lydia determined if possible to find out, led the way across the street, under pretense of wanting something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the pavement when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and in treated permission to introduce his friend, Mr. Wickham, who had returned with him the day before from town, and he was happy to say, had accepted a commission in their corps. This was exactly as it should be, for the young man wanted only regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was greatly in his favor, he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction was followed up on his side by happy readiness of conversation, a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming, and the whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably, when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were seen riding down the street. On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennett, the principal object. He was then he set on his way to Longborn, on purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger, and Elizabeth, happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed color, one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments touched his hat, a salutation which Mr. Darcy just deemed to return. What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine, it was impossible not to long to know. In another minute, Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have noticed what passed, took leave, and rode on with his friend. Mr. Danny and Mr. Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door of Mr. Phillips' house, and then made their bows, in spite of Miss Lydia's pressing and treaties that they would come in, and even in spite of Mrs. Phillips throwing up the parlor window and loudly seconding the invitation. Mrs. Phillips was always glad to see her nieces, and the two eldest, from their recent absence, were particularly welcome, and she was eagerly expressing her surprise at their sudden return home, which, as their own carriage, had not fetched them. She should have known nothing about, if she had not happened to see Mr. Jones' shopboy in the street, who told her that they were not to send any more drafts to Netherfield, because the Miss Benets were come away, when her civility was claimed towards Mr. Collins by Jane's introduction of him. She received him with her very best politeness, which he returned with as much more apologizing for his intrusion, without any previous acquaintance of her, which he could not help flattering himself, however might be justified by his relationship to the young ladies, who introduced him to her notice. Mrs. Phillips was quite awed by such an excess of good breeding, but her contemplation of one stranger was soon put an end to by exclamations and inquiries about the other, of whom, however, she could only tell her nieces what they already knew, that Mr. Denny had brought him from London, and that he was to have a lieutenant's commission. She had been watching him the last hour, as he walked up and down the street, and had Mr. Wickham appeared, Kitty and Lydia, would certainly have continued the occupation. But unluckily, no one passed the windows now, except a few of the officers, who in comparison with the stranger, were become stupid, disagreeable fellows. Some of them were to die in with the Phillips the next day, and their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr. Wickham, and give him an invitation also, if the family from Longborn would come in the evening. This was agreed to, and Mrs. Phillips protested that they would have a nice, comfortable noise game of lottery tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards. The prospect of such delights was very cheering, and they parted in mutual good spirits. Mr. Collins repeated his apologies in quitting the room, and was assured with unwiering civility that they were perfectly needless. As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane, which she had seen passed between the two gentlemen, but though Jane would have defended either or both, had they appeared to be wrong, she could no more explain such behavior than her sister. Mr. Collins, on his return, highly gratified Mrs. Bennett by admiring Mrs. Phillips' manners and politeness. He protested that except Lady Catherine and her daughter, he had never seen a more elegant woman, for she had not only received him with the utmost civility, but had even pointedly included him in her invitation for the next evening, although utterly unknown to her before. Something, he suppose, might be attributed to his connection with them, but yet he had never met with so much attention in the whole course of his life. Chapter 16 As no objection was made to the young people's engagement with their aunt, and all Mr. Collins' scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennett for a single evening during his visit were most steadily resisted, the coach conveyed him in his five cousins at a suitable hour to Maryton, and the girls had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawing room, that Mr. Wickham had accepted their uncle's invitation and was then in the house. When this information was given and they had all taken their seats, Mr. Collins was at leisure to look around him and admire, and he was so much struck with the size and furniture of the apartment that he declared he might almost have supposed himself in the small summer break. He was a breakfast parlor at Rosings, a comparison that did not at first convey much gratification, but when Mrs. Philps understood from him what Rosings was and who was its proprietor, when she had listened to the description of only one of Lady Catherine's drawing rooms and found that the chimney piece alone had cost 800 pounds, she felt all the force of the compliment and would hardly have resented a comparison with the housekeeper's room. In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion with occasional digressions and praise of his own humble abode and the improvements it was receiving, he was happily employed until a gentleman joined them, and he found in Mrs. Philps a very tentative listener whose opinion of his consequence increased with what she heard and who was resolving to detail it all among her neighbors as soon as she could. To the girls who could not listen to their cousin and who had nothing to do but to wish for an instrument and examine their own indifferent imitations of China on the mantelpiece, the interval of waiting appeared very long. It was over at last, however, the gentleman did approach, and when Mr. Wickham walked into the room, Elizabeth felt that she had neither been seeing him before nor thinking of him since with the smallest degree of unreasonable admiration. The officers were in general a very credible gentleman like said and the best of them were of the present party. But Mr. Wickham was as far beyond them in all person countenance Aaron Walk as they were superior to the broad-faced stuffy Uncle Philps, breathing Port Wine who followed them into the room. Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female I was turned, and Elizabeth was the happy woman by whom he finally seated himself, and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, and on the probability of a rainy season made her feel that the commonest dullest, most thread-bare topic might be rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker. With such rivals for the notice of the fair as Mr. Wickham and the officers, Mr. Collins seemed likely to sink into insignificance, to the young ladies he certainly was nothing, but he had still at intervals the kind listener in Mrs. Philps, and was by her watchfulness most abundantly supplied with coffee and muffin. When the card tables were placed, he had an opportunity of obliging her in return by sitting down to waste. I know little of the game at present, said he, but I shall be glad to improve myself for in my situation of life. Mrs. Philps was very thankful for his compliance, but could not wait for his reason. Mr. Wickham did not play at Wist, and with ready to light was he received at the other table between Elizabeth and Lydia. At first there seemed danger of Lydia's engrossing him entirely, for she was most determined talker, but being likewise extremely fond of lottery tickets, she soon grew too much interested in the game, to eager in making bets and exclaim after prizes to have any attention for anyone in particular. Allowing for the common demands of the game, Mr. Wickham was therefore at leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told, the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself. He inquired how far Netherfield was from Maryton, and after receiving her answer, asked in a hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there. A badamon, said Elizabeth, and then unwilling to let the subject drop, added, he's a man of very large property and derby sure, I understand. Yes, replied Wickham. He's a state there is a noble one, a clear 10,000 per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that had than myself, for I've been connected with his family in a particular manner for my infancy. Elizabeth could not but look surprised. You may well be surprised, Miss Bennett, at such an assertion after seeing as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy? As much as I ever wished to be, cried Elizabeth warmly, I've spent four days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable. I have no right to give my opinion, said Wickham, as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I'm not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial, but I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish, and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly. Here you are in your own family. Upon my word I say no more here than I might say in any house in the neighborhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked and hurt for sure. Everybody is disgusted with his pride, you will not find him more favorably spoken of by anyone. I cannot pretend to be sorry, said Wickham, after a short interruption, that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond their desserts. But with him I believe it does not often happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen. I should take him even on my slight acquaintance to be an ill-tempered man. Wickham only shook his head. I wonder, said he at the next opportunity of speaking, whether he is likely to be in this country much longer. I do not at all know, but I heard nothing of his going away when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans and favor will not be affected by his being in the neighborhood. Oh no, it is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on friendly terms. It always gives me pain to meet him. But I have no reason for avoiding him, but what I might proclaim to all the world. A sense of very great ill usage and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, Miss Bennett, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had, and I can never be in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. His behavior to myself has been scandalous, but I veerily believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father. Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase and listened with all their heart, but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry. Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics. Married to the neighborhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he had yet seen, and speaking of the latter especially with gentle but very intelligible gallantry. It was the prospect of constant society and good society he added, which was my chief inducement to enter here. I knew it to be a most respectable agreeable core, and my friend Denny tempted me farther by his account of their present quarters, and the very great attentions and excellent acquaintance Maritzen have procured them. Society I own is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude. I must have employment in society. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession. I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now. Indeed, yes, the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it, but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere. Good heavens, Cradleysmith, but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress? There is just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honor could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it, or to treat it as merely a conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeit it all claimed to it by extravagance, in prudence, in short, anything or nothing. Certain it is that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly I was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man. And no less certain is it that I cannot excuse myself of having really done anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion of him and to him too freely. I can recall nothing worse, but the fact is that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me. This is quite shocking. He deserves to be publicly disgraced. Some time or other, he will be, but it shall not be by me, till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him. Elizabeth honored him for such feelings and thought him handsomer than ever as he expressed them. But what, said she after a pause, can have been his motive? What can have induced him to behave so cruelly? A thorough, determined dislike of me, a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Darcy liked me less, his son might have born with me better, but his father's uncommon attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood, the sort of preference which was often given me. I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this, though I have never liked him, I had not thought so very ill of him. I had supposed him to be despising his fellow creatures in general, but did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this. After a few minutes' reflection, however, she continued, I do remember his boasting one day, a netherfield, of the implacability of his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper, his disposition must be dreadful. I will not trust myself on the subject replied with him, I can hardly be just to him. Elizabeth was again in deep thought and after a time exclaimed, to treat in such a manner the god-son, the friend, the favorite of his father, she could have added, a young man too like you, who's very countenance may vouch for you're being amiable. But she contented herself with, and one too, who had probably been his own companion from childhood, connected together, as I think you said, in the closest manner. We were born in the same parish, within the same park, the greatest part of our youth was passed together, inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. My father began life in the profession which your uncle, Mr. Phillips, appears to do so much credit to, but he gave up everything to be of use to the late Mr. Darcy, and devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, most intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Darcy often acknowledged himself to be under the greatest obligations to my father's active superintendents, and when immediately before my father's death Mr. Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me. I am convinced that he felt it to be as much a debt of gratitude to him as of affection to myself. How strange, Cradle-is-with, how bomb-n-able! I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you. If from no better motive than he should not have been too proud to be dishonest. For dishonesty I must call it. It is wonderful, replied with him, for almost all his actions may be traced to pride, and pride has often been his best friend. He has connected him nearer with virtue than in any other feeling. But we are none of us consistent, and in his behavior to me, there were stronger impulses even than pride. Can such an bomb-n-able pride as his have ever done him good? Yes, it has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride and filial pride, for he is very proud of what his father was, have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He is also brotherly pride, which with some brotherly affection makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister, and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers. What sort of a girl is Miss Darcy? He shook his head. I wish I could call their A-meable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy, but she is too much like her brother, very, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing and extremely fond of me, and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about 15 or 16, and I understand highly accomplished. Since her father's death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and super intense her education. After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth could not help reverting once more to the first, and saying, I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley. How can Mr. Bingley, who seems good humor itself and is, I really believe, truly A-meable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Bingley? Not at all. He is a sweet, tempered, A-meable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. Darcy is. Probably not, but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversable companion if he thinks it's worth his while. Among those who are at all his equals, in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride never deserts him, but with the rich he is liberated, just and seer, rational, honorable, and perhaps agreeable, allowing something for fortune and figure. The Wist Party, soon afterwards breaking up, the players gathered around the other table, and Mr. Collins took his station between his cousin Elizabeth and Mrs. Phillips. The usual inquiries as to success were made by the latter. It had not been very great. He had lost every point. But when Mrs. Phillips began to express her concern, thereupon, he assured her with much earnest gravity that it was not of the least importance. But he had considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged she would not make herself uneasy. I know very well, Madame, said he, that when persons sit down to a card table, they must take their chance of these things, and happily I am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings and a object. There are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but thanks to Lady Catherine de Burg, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding little matters. Mr. Wickham's attention was caught, and after observing Mr. Collins for a few moments, he asked Elizabeth in a low voice whether her relation were very intimately acquainted with the family of de Burg. Lady Catherine de Burg, sure, replied, has very lately given him a living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her notice, but he certainly has not known her long. You know, of course, that Lady Catherine de Burg and Lady Anne Darcy were sisters. Consequently, that she is on to the present Mr. Darcy. No indeed I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine's connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before yesterday. Her daughter, Mrs. de Burg, will have a very large fortune, and it is believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates. This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor Miss Bingley. Vain indeed must be all her attentions. Vain and useless her affection for his sister and her praise of himself if he were already self-destined to another. Mr. Collins said she speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her daughter, but from some particulars that he has related of her leadership, I suspect his gratitude misleads him. And then in spite of her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceded woman. I believe her to be both in a great degree, replied Wickham. I have not seen her for many years, but I very well remember that I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She has her reputation of being remarkably sensible and clever, but I rather believe she derives part of her abilities from her rank and fortune, part from her authoritative manner and the rest from the pride of her nephew. Who chooses that everyone connected with him should have an understanding of the first class. Elizabeth allowed that he had given a very rational account of it, and they continued talking together of mutual satisfaction until supper put an end to cards and gave the rest of the ladies their share of Mr. Wickham's attentions. There could be no conversation in the noise of Mrs. Philip's supper party, but his manners recommended him to everybody. Whatever he said was said well, and whatever he did done gracefully. Elizabeth went away with her head full of him. She could think of nothing but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her all the way home, but there was not time for even to mention his name as they went. For neither Lydia nor Mr. Collins were one silent. Lydia talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had lost, and the fish she had won, and Mr. Collins in describing the civility of Mr. Mrs. Phillips, that he did not in the least regard his losses at waste, enumerating all the dishes at supper, and repeatedly fearing that he crowded his cousins had more to say than he could well manage before the carriage stopped at Longborn House. Chapter 17 Elizabeth related to Jane the next day what had passed between Mr. Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern. She knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr. Bingley's regard, and yet it was not in her nature to question the veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. The possibility of his having really endured such unkindness was enough to interest all her tender feelings, and nothing therefore remained to be done, but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each, and throw into the account of accident or mistake whatever could not be otherwise explained. They have both said she been deceived, I dare say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is in short impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them without actual blame on either side. Very true indeed, and now my dear Jane, what have you got to say in behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the business? Do clear them too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of somebody. Lath as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dear Slyzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr. Darcy to be treating his father's favorite in such a manner. One whom his father had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his character could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in him? Oh no. I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley's being imposed on than that Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last night. Names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it, besides there is truth in his looks. It is difficult indeed. It is distressing. One does not know what to think. I beg your pardon, one knows exactly what to think. But Jane could think with certainty on only one point that Mr. Bingley, if he had been imposed on, would have much to suffer when the affair became public. The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery where this conversation passed by the arrival of some of the very persons of whom they had been speaking. Mr. Bingley and his sisters came to give their personal invitation for the long-expected ball at Netherfield, which was fixed for the following Tuesday. The two ladies were delighted to see their dear friend again, called it an age since they had met and repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since their separation. To the rest of the family, they paid little attention, avoiding Mrs. Bennett as much as possible, saying not much to Elizabeth and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone again, rising from their seats with an activity which took their brother by surprise, and herring off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Bennett's civilities. The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every female of the family. Mrs. Bennett chose to consider it as given and complement her eldest daughter, and was particularly flattered by receiving the invitation for Mr. Bingley himself, instead of a ceremonious card. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the society of her two friends, and the attentions of their brother, and Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing a great deal with Mr. Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Mr. Darcy's looks and behavior. The happiness anticipated by Catherine and Lydia, dependent less on any single event or any particular person, for though they each, like Elizabeth, meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Wickham, he was by no means the only partner who could satisfy them, and a ball was at any rate a ball, and even Mary could assure her family that she had no disinclination for it. While I can have my mornings myself, said she, it is enough. I think it no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements, society as claims on us all, and I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody. Elizabeth's spirits were so high on the occasion that though she did not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley's invitation, and if he did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening's amusement. And she was rather surprised to find that he entertained no scrupal whatever on that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke either from the Archbishop or Lady Catherine to Berg by venturing to dance. I am by no means of opinion, I assure you, said he, that a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can have any evil tendency, and I am so far from objecting to dancing myself, that I shall hope to be honored with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening. And I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially, a preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right cause and not to any disrespect for her. Elizabeth felt herself completely taken in, she had fully proposed being engaged by Mr. Wickham for those very dances, and to have Mr. Collins instead, her liveliness had been never worse timed. There was no help for it, however, Mr. Wickham's happiness in her own was perforced delayed a little longer, and Mr. Collins proposed to accept it with as good a grace as she could. She was not the better pleased with this gallantry, from the idea it suggested of something more. It now struck her that she was selected from among her sisters, as worthy of being the mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form a quadril table at Rosings in the absence of more eligible visitors. The idea soon reached a conviction, as she observed his increasing civilities towards herself, and her disfrequent attempted a compliment on her wit and vivacity. And though more astonished than gratified herself by this effect of her charms, it was not long before her mother gave her to understand that the probability of their marriage was exceedingly agreeable to her. Elizabeth, however, did not choose to take the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins might never make the offer, until he did, it was useless to quarrel about him. If there had not been another field ball to prepare for and talk of, the young Miss Bennet would have been an apitable state at this time. For, from the day of the invitation to the day of the ball, there was such succession of rain as prevented their walking to Maryton once. No on, no officers, no news could be sought after. The very shoe roses for Netherfield were got by proxy. Even Elizabeth might have found some trial of her patients in weather, which totally suspended the improvement of her acquaintance with Mr. Wickham. And nothing less than a dance on Tuesday could have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, adorable to Kitty and Lydia. Security program on spreadsheets, new regulations piling up and audit dread, it's time for Vanta. Vanta automates security and compliance, brings evidence into one place, and cuts audit prep by 82%. Less manual work, clear visibility, faster deals, zero chaos. Call it compliance, or call it, ComPliance. Get it? 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