- char_end
- 50813
- char_start
- 42895
- chunk_index
- 6
- chunk_total
- 108
- estimated_tokens
- 1980
- source_file_key
- pride-and-prejudice
- text
- as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I
will take it on myself.”
The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only, “Nonsense,
nonsense!”
“What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?” cried he. “Do
you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on
them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you _there_. What say you,
Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read
great books, and make extracts.”
Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how.
“While Mary is adjusting her ideas,” he continued, “let us return to Mr.
Bingley.”
“I am sick of Mr. Bingley,” cried his wife.
“I am sorry to hear _that_; but why did you not tell me so before? If I
had known as much this morning, I certainly would not have called on
him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we
cannot escape the acquaintance now.”
The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished--that of Mrs.
Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though when the first tumult of joy
was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the
while.
“How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should
persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well to
neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! And it is such a
good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning, and never said a
word about it till now.”
“Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose,” said Mr. Bennet; and,
as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife.
“What an excellent father you have, girls,” said she, when the door was
shut. “I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness;
or me either, for that matter. At our time of life, it is not so
pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances every day; but
for your sakes we would do anything. Lydia, my love, though you _are_
the youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next
ball.”
“Oh,” said Lydia, stoutly, “I am not afraid; for though I _am_ the
youngest, I’m the tallest.”
The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he would
return Mr. Bennet’s visit, and determining when they should ask him to
dinner.
[Illustration: “I’m the tallest”]
[Illustration:
“He rode a black horse”
]
CHAPTER III.
[Illustration]
Not all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five
daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw from her
husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. They attacked him
in various ways, with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and
distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all; and they were at
last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour,
Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable. Sir William had been
delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely
agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly
with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of
dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively
hopes of Mr. Bingley’s heart were entertained.
“If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,”
said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well
married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”
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 despatched; 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 always be 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
[Illustration:
“When the Party entered”
[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
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 had 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.
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. 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. 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 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 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 overhear a conversation between him and
Mr. Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes to press his
friend to join it.
“Come, Darcy,” said he, “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 Bingley, “for a
kingdom!