Pride and Prejudice
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 should not object to know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore
established as a sweet girl; and their brother felt authorized by such
commendation to think of her as he chose.
CHAPTER V.
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, 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.’”
“Upon my word! Well, that was very decided, indeed--that does seem as
if--but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know.”
“_My_ overhearings were more to the purpose than _yours_, Eliza,” said
Charlotte. “Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to as his friend,
is he? Poor Eliza! to be only just _tolerable_.”
“I beg you will not put it into Lizzy’s head to be vexed by his
ill-treatment, for he is such a disagreeable man that it would be quite
a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he
sat close to her for half an hour without once opening his lips.”
“Are you quite sure, ma’am? Is not there a little mistake?” said Jane.
“I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her.”
“Ay, because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he
could not help answering her; but she said he seemed very angry at being
spoke to.”
“Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much unless
among his intimate acquaintance. With _them_ he is remarkably
agreeable.”
“I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very
agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it
was; everybody says that he is eat up with pride, and I dare say he had
heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had to come
to the ball in a hack chaise.”
“I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long,” said Miss Lucas, “but I
wish he had danced with Eliza.”
“Another time, Lizzy,” said her mother, “I would not dance with _him_,
if I were you.”
“I believe, ma’am, I may safely promise you _never_ to dance with him.”
“His pride,” said Miss Lucas, “does not offend _me_ so much as pride
often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so
very fine a young man, with family, fortune, everything in his favour,
should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a _right_
to be proud.”
“That is very true,” replied Elizabeth, “and I could easily forgive
_his_ pride, if he had not mortified _mine_.”
“Pride,” observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her
reflections, “is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have
ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human
nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us
who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some
quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different
things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be
proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of
ourselves; vanity to what we would have others think of us.”
“If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy,” cried a young Lucas, who came with his
sisters, “I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of
foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine every day.”
“Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought,” said Mrs.
Bennet; “and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle
directly.”
The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she
would; and the argument ended only with the visit.
CHAPTER VI.
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
good-will 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 excepting even her sister, and could not like them;
though their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value, as arising,
in all probability, from the influence of their brother’s admiration. It
was generally evident, whenever they met, that he _did_ admire her; and
to _her_ it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the 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 an
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 affection with the same skill
from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and
it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the
dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every
attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all
_begin_ freely--a slight preference is natural enough; but there are
very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without
encouragement. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better show _more_
affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he
may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on.”
“But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If _I_ can
perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton indeed not to
discover it too.”
“Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane’s disposition as you do.”
“But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not 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 conversing together. Jane should
therefore make the most of every half hour in which she can command his
attention. When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling
in love as much as she 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 dare say I should adopt it. But
these are not Jane’s feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet she
cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard, nor of its
reasonableness. She has known him only a fortnight. She danced four
dances with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house,
and has since dined in company with him four times. This is not quite
enough to make her understand his character.”
“Not as you represent it. Had she merely _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: these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both
like Vingt-un better than Commerce, but with respect to any other
leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded.”
“Well,” said Charlotte, “I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if
she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a
chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a
twelvemonth. 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 does not 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 in 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 criticise. But no
sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had
hardly a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was 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