Pride and Prejudice (Clandestine Classics) (3 page)

“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 had 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.’”

“Upon my word! Well, that is 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
.”

Elizabeth Bennet offered her friend a warm smile. She had tried not to be pained by the slur, for she remembered the unbridled heat in the man’s eyes when he had looked over her, but the words had been cutting nonetheless. And why he had felt the need to dismiss her out of hand still perplexed her. It was odd and incomprehensible behaviour.

“I beg you would 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.”

“Aye—because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he could not help answering her, but she said he seemed quite angry at being spoke to.”

Elizabeth could not help but be comforted by the news, though she did not make her feelings known to her friends.

“Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much, unless among his intimate acquaintances. With
them
he is remarkably agreeable.”

Elizabeth speculated privately how differently Mr Darcy would indeed behave among his intimate acquaintances. She imagined his face would be quite the sight to behold if warmth shone in his eyes and his mouth was curved into a pleasant and welcoming smile.

“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 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.”

Elizabeth tried to fight them, but images of being held in Mr Darcy’s arms while they sailed around a dance floor flashed through her mind. Though they were at no assembly—they were alone and had eyes only for each other. And as the soft, entrancing music filled the space around them, he would pull her closer to his body and…

“Another time, Lizzy,” said her mother, “I would not dance with
him
, if I were you.”

Elizabeth shook the images from her mind. “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.”