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- pride-and-prejudice
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- thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me.”
“What you ask,” said Elizabeth, “is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr.
Darcy had much better finish his letter.”
Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter.
When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth
for the indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with alacrity to
the pianoforte, and after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the
way, which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she
seated herself.
Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister; and while they were thus employed,
Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music-books
that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Darcy’s eyes were fixed
on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of
admiration to so great a man, and yet that he should look at her because
he disliked her was still more strange. She could only imagine, however,
at last, that she drew his notice because there was something about her
more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in
any other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked
him too little to care for his approbation.
After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a
lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near
Elizabeth, said to her,--
“Do you not feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an
opportunity of dancing a reel?”
She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some
surprise at her silence.
“Oh,” said she, “I heard you before; but I could not immediately
determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say ‘Yes,’
that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always
delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of
their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell
you that I do not want to dance a reel at all; and now despise me if you
dare.”
“Indeed I do not dare.”
Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his
gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her
manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody, and Darcy had
never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really
believed that, were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he
should be in some danger.
Miss Bingley saw, or suspected, enough to be jealous; and her great
anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some
assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth.
She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by talking of
their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance.
“I hope,” said she, as they were walking together in the shrubbery the
next day, “you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this
desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue;
and if you can compass it, to cure the younger girls of running after
the officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to
check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence,
which your lady possesses.”
[Illustration:
“No, no; stay where you are”
[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
“Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?”
“Oh yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Philips be placed
in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the
judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different
lines. As for your Elizabeth’s picture, you must not attempt to have it
taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?”
“It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression; but their
colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be
copied.”
At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst and
Elizabeth herself.
“I did not know that you intended to walk,” said Miss Bingley, in some
confusion, lest they had been overheard.
“You used us abominably ill,” answered Mrs. Hurst, “running away without
telling us that you were coming out.”
Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk
by herself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt their rudeness,
and immediately said,--
“This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the
avenue.”
But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them,
laughingly answered,--
“No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to
uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a
fourth. Good-bye.”
She then ran gaily off, rejoicing, as she rambled about, in the hope of
being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already so much recovered
as to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours that evening.
[Illustration:
“Piling up the fire”
[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
CHAPTER XI.
[Illustration]
When the ladies removed after dinner Elizabeth ran up to her sister, and
seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into the drawing-room,
where she was welcomed by her two friends with many professions of
pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable as they were
during the hour which passed before the gentlemen appeared. Their powers
of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment
with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their
acquaintance with spirit.
But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object;
Miss Bingley’s eyes were instantly turned towards Darcy, and she had
something to say to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed
himself directly to Miss Bennet with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst
also made her a slight bow, and said he was “very glad;” but diffuseness
and warmth remained for Bingley’s salutation. He was full of joy and
attention. The first half hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she
should suffer from the change of room; and she removed, at his desire,
to the other side of the fireplace, that she might be farther from the
door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to anyone else.
Elizabeth, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with great
delight.
When tea was over Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law of the
card-table--but in vain. She had obtained private intelligence that Mr.
Darcy did not wish for cards, and Mr. Hurst soon found even his open
petition rejected. She assured him that no one intended to play, and the
silence of the whole party on the subject seemed to justify her. Mr.
Hurst had, therefore, nothing to do but to stretch himself on one of the
sofas and go to sleep. Darcy took up a book. Miss Bingley did the same;
and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her bracelets and
rings, joined now and then in her brother’s conversation with Miss
Bennet.
Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr.
Darcy’s progress through _his_ book, as in reading her own; and she was
perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She
could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her
question and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be
amused with her own book, which she had only chosen because it was the
second volume of his, she gave a great yawn and said, “How pleasant it
is to spend an evening in this way! I declare, after all, there is no
enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a
book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not
an excellent library.”
No one made any reply.