Gay Pride and Prejudice (2 page)

Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. Miss Bingley, the younger of the two, was tall for a woman, but striking in a gown of the latest style. Her brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but her brother’s 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. The gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud; to be above his company and above being pleased; and not all his large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his friend.

Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal people in the room; he was lively and unreserved, danced every dance, was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one himself at Netherfield. Such amiable qualities must speak for themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being 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 had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley had been standing near enough for her to hear a conversation between them and Mr. Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes to press his friend and younger sister to join it.

“Come, Caroline and Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about in this manner. You had much better dance.”

“I certainly shall not,” Mr. Darcy returned. “Your sister is in need of rest, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable.”

“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” said 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.”

“Dear brother,” said Miss Bingley, “your admiration of the fairer sex is unaccountably obliging.”

“You, sir, are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” added 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?” Darcy asked.

Miss Bingley looked round for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, she withdrew her own and said, “She is tolerable, but hardly the sort to tempt Mr. Darcy, I dare say.”

“Indeed,” said Darcy. “Besides, 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 here.”

Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley walked off; and Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings toward either. She told the story, however, with great spirit among her friends, for she had a lively, playful disposition that delighted in anything ridiculous. Still, she was careful to mark Mr. Darcy as the villain. Caroline Bingley had behaved if not warmly, then at the least politely to everyone else present; and Elizabeth was reluctant to call attention to the slight for fear it might reflect poorly on the lady’s brother.

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 Jane 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, and had spent an enjoyable amount of time with Charlotte Lucas, her intimate friend, observing their friends and neighbours engaged in revelry. 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.

“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his wife 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; and he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was going down the dance. So he inquired 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
,” said her husband, “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!”

“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 female 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. 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."

Chapter Four

W
HEN
J
ANE AND
E
LIZABETH 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.”

“I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I did not expect such a compliment.”

“Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between us. Compliments always take
you
by surprise, and
me
never. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times prettier than 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!”

“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.” She paused. “And so you like this man’s sisters, too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his.” She thought again of Miss Bingley’s disparaging eye turned upon her.

“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. Miss Bingley was certainly a handsome, distinguished woman, but her behaviour at the assembly had not been calculated to please. Elizabeth, with more quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than her sister, and with a judgment too unassailed by any attention to herself, was very little disposed to approve either Bingley female. 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 had been educated in one of the first private seminaries in England, had a fortune of thirty thousand pounds each, 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 seemingly more deeply impressed on their memories than that their brother’s fortune and their own had been acquired by trade.

Mr. Bingley had 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 so. 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 family was anxious for his having an estate of his own; but, though he was now only established as a tenant, Mrs. Hurst, who had married a man of more fashion than fortune, was not indisposed to consider his house as her home when it suited her. His younger sister, Miss Bingley, would have preferred to be in town among her particular group of friends for the season; but as this was not currently an option allowed her, thought Netherfield would probably do as well as any other country house that was a favourable distance from their home county. For there, she would not—could not—return at any near point in time. Mr. Bingley, aware of his sister’s forced estrangement from the north, had been on the lookout for a residence for them both, 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 judgment the highest opinion. In understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means deficient, but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was sure of being liked wherever he appeared, while Darcy was continually giving offense.

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 less 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.

Miss Bingley owned that she seconded most of his opinions, except perhaps with regards to Miss Bennet, whom she had admired and liked; Mrs. Hurst agreed with her, and pronounced Miss Bennet to be a sweet girl, one whom she also would not object to knowing more of. Miss Bennet was therefore established as a sweet girl, and Bingley felt authorized by such commendation to think of her as he chose.

Chapter Five

W
ITHIN A SHORT WALK OF
L
ONGBOURN
lived the Lucases, 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.