by Jane Austen
In a few days Mr Bingley returned Mr Bennet’s visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in his library. He had entertained 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, etc. Mrs Bennet was quite disconcerted. 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 assembly. The girls grieved over such a number of ladies, but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve he 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 eldest, and another young man, his friend and confidant Mr Darcy.
Mr Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike. He had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners, but he did not capture Elizabeth Bennet’s interest. Mr Bingley’s sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. 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 report which was in general circulation within five minutes after his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. It was Mr Darcy who caught Elizabeth’s eye. The gentlemen in the room 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. 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 unworthy to be compared with his friend.
Elizabeth had to agree with the general opinion of Mr Darcy. He did indeed appear to be a proud man, and one who showed little interest in the night’s proceedings. But unlike Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy had captured Elizabeth’s attention from the moment he had entered the room, and held it for the entirety of the evening. When their eyes had met for the first time, Elizabeth found she could not look away, which would have been proper for a young lady. Small flirtations were perfectly acceptable, but to openly dally for an extended period of time was considered improper and unladylike. Mr Darcy’s gaze took in every inch of Elizabeth’s body, from the top of her neatly arranged hair to the toes of her newly acquired slippers. And as his head lifted to behold her face, his gaze lingered on her bosom and his eyes flashed with an emotion the likes of which no man had bestowed upon Elizabeth before. She felt the appraisal through her entire being as though it were a physical thing. The heat in his eyes warmed her body, making her tingle and rousing her own clandestine desires.
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! But it was his friend that Elizabeth found herself inexplicably drawn to. To Elizabeth’s disappointment, Mr Darcy danced only once with Mrs Hurst and once with Miss Bingley. He declined being introduced 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 everybody hoped that he would never come there again. Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs Bennet, whose dislike of his general behaviour was sharpened into particular resentment by his having slighted one of her daughters.
Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two dances, and during part of that time, Mr Darcy had been standing near enough for her to hear a conversation between him and Mr Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes, to press his friend to join it. It was quite contrary to the interest his lustful glances had suggested.
“Come, Darcy,” said Mr Bingley, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”
“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”
“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Mr Bingley, “for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening, and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty.”
“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.
“Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”
“Which do you mean?” and turning round he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye again, he withdrew his own and coldly said, “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me. I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”
Mr Bingley followed his advice. Mr Darcy walked off, and consequently, because of his last remark, Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings towards him. She would never understand the complications of men—especially those as perplexing as Mr Darcy. She told the story, however, with great spirit among her friends, for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous. Elizabeth did not mention their unspoken exchange.
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—she had enjoyed the evening, notwithstanding Mr Darcy’s rude behaviour. Mary had heard herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most accomplished girl in the neighbourhood, and Catherine and Lydia had been fortunate enough never to be without partners, which was all that they had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned, therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the village where they lived, and of which they were the principal inhabitants. They found Mr Bennet still up. With a book he was regardless of time, and on the present occasion he had a good deal of curiosity as to the event of an evening which had raised such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that his wife’s views on the stranger would be disappointed, but he soon found out that he had a different story to hear.
“Oh! my dear Mr Bennet,” as she entered the room, “we have had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there. Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it. Everybody said how well she looked, and Mr Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice! Only think of that, my dear, he actually danced with her twice and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second time. First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand up with her! But
, however, he did not admire her at all—indeed, nobody can, you know—and he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was going down the dance. So he enquired who she was, and got introduced, and asked her for the two next. Then the two third he danced with Miss King, and the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane again, and the two sixth with Lizzy, and the Boulanger—”
“If he had had any compassion for me,” cried her husband impatiently, “he would not have danced half so much! For God’s sake, say no more of his partners. Oh that he had sprained his ankle in the first dance!”
“Oh, my dear, I am quite delighted with him. He is so excessively handsome! And his sisters are charming women. I never in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses. I dare say the lace upon Mrs Hurst’s gown—”
Here she was interrupted again. Mr Bennet protested against any description of finery. She was therefore obliged to seek another branch of the subject, and related, with much bitterness of spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr Darcy.
“But I can assure you,” she added, “that Lizzy does not lose much by not suiting his fancy, for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man.”
Elizabeth Bennet listened to her mother’s overly loud criticism of Mr Darcy while she readied herself for bed. Though the gentleman had intrigued her, his behaviour had been infuriating, but as she slid under the covers, her eyes heavy from fatigue, his handsome and proud face was the last image her mind conjured before she fell into a deep and restful sleep.
Chapter Four
When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr Bingley before, expressed to her sister just how very much she admired him.
“He is just what a young man ought to be,” said she, “sensible, good-humoured, lively, and I never saw such happy manners—so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!”
“He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete.” Even as she made the declaration, Elizabeth thought of Mr Darcy, whom she considered the more handsome of the two.
“I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time,” said Jane. “I did not expect such a compliment.”
“Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between us. Compliments always take you by surprise, and me never. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person.”
“Dear Lizzy!”
“Oh, you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in your life.”
“I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone, but I always speak what I think.”
“I know you do, and it is that which makes the wonder. With your good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of others! Affectation of candour is common enough—one meets with it everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design—to take the good of everybody’s character and make it 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 judgement too unassailed by any attention to herself, she was very little disposed to approve them. They were in fact very fine ladies, not deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of making themselves agreeable when 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 a 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 anxious for his having an estate of his own, but, though he was now only established 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 recommendation 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 great opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy’s regard, Bingley had the firmest reliance, and of his judgement 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 more pleasant people or prettier girls in his life. Everybody 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 collection 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 would not object to know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore established as a sweet girl, and their brother felt authorised by such commendation to think of her as he chose.
Mr Darcy had found Jane’s sister, Elizabeth Bennet, to be more worthy of note. She had caught his eye the moment he entered the assembly. Not as fine-featured as Jane, but certainly more alluring. However, Darcy was confident a young lady such as her would be looking for a wealthy husband, and he had no desire to marry, especially not to someone of a lower rank than him. He had ignored his body’s reaction to her and had treated her with as much regard as he had the other women in the room. He did not want to encourage her into believing he ha
d a fancy for her. Absolutely no good could come of it.
Chapter Five
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 knighthood 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, in 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 himself solely 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 everybody. By nature inoffensive, 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 morning 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 twice. 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.’”