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- 221995
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- 214129
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- 30
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- 1967
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- pride-and-prejudice
- text
- to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure, because on such
occasions it is the etiquette; but no one was less likely than Mrs.
Bennet to find comfort in staying at home at any period of her life. She
concluded with many good wishes that Lady Lucas might soon be equally
fortunate, though evidently and triumphantly believing there was no
chance of it.
In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity of her mother’s
words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible
whisper; for to her inexpressible vexation she could perceive that the
chief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, who sat opposite to them. Her
mother only scolded her for being nonsensical.
“What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am
sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say
nothing _he_ may not like to hear.”
“For heaven’s sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be to you
to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by
so doing.”
Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her mother would
talk of her views in the same intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushed and
blushed again with shame and vexation. She could not help frequently
glancing her eye at Mr. Darcy, though every glance convinced her of what
she dreaded; for though he was not always looking at her mother, she was
convinced that his attention was invariably fixed by her. The expression
of his face changed gradually from indignant contempt to a composed and
steady gravity.
At length, however, Mrs. Bennet had no more to say; and Lady Lucas, who
had been long yawning at the repetition of delights which she saw no
likelihood of sharing, was left to the comforts of cold ham and chicken.
Elizabeth now began to revive. But not long was the interval of
tranquillity; for when supper was over, singing was talked of, and she
had the mortification of seeing Mary, after very little entreaty,
preparing to oblige the company. By many significant looks and silent
entreaties did she endeavour to prevent such a proof of
complaisance,--but in vain; Mary would not understand them; such an
opportunity of exhibiting was delightful to her, and she began her song.
Elizabeth’s eyes were fixed on her, with most painful sensations; and
she watched her progress through the several stanzas with an impatience
which was very ill rewarded at their close; for Mary, on receiving
amongst the thanks of the table the hint of a hope that she might be
prevailed on to favour them again, after the pause of half a minute
began another. Mary’s powers were by no means fitted for such a display;
her voice was weak, and her manner affected. Elizabeth was in agonies.
She looked at Jane to see how she bore it; but Jane was very composedly
talking to Bingley. She looked at his two sisters, and saw them making
signs of derision at each other, and at Darcy, who continued, however,
impenetrably grave. She looked at her father to entreat his
interference, lest Mary should be singing all night. He took the hint,
and, when Mary had finished her second song, said aloud,--
“That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough.
Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.”
Mary, though pretending not to hear, was somewhat disconcerted; and
Elizabeth, sorry for her, and sorry for her father’s speech, was afraid
her anxiety had done no good. Others of the party were now applied to.
“If I,” said Mr. Collins, “were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I
should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an
air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly
compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean, however,
to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time to
music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The
rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make such
an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself and not
offensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the time
that remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the care
and improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making
as comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importance
that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards
everybody, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I
cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well of the man who
should omit an occasion of testifying his respect towards anybody
connected with the family.” And with a bow to Mr. Darcy, he concluded
his speech, which had been spoken so loud as to be heard by half the
room. Many stared--many smiled; but no one looked more amused than Mr.
Bennet himself, while his wife seriously commended Mr. Collins for
having spoken so sensibly, and observed, in a half-whisper to Lady
Lucas, that he was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man.
To Elizabeth it appeared, that had her family made an agreement to
expose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would
have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit, or
finer success; and happy did she think it for Bingley and her sister
that some of the exhibition had escaped his notice, and that his
feelings were not of a sort to be much distressed by the folly which he
must have witnessed. That his two sisters and Mr. Darcy, however, should
have such an opportunity of ridiculing her relations was bad enough; and
she could not determine whether the silent contempt of the gentleman, or
the insolent smiles of the ladies, were more intolerable.
The rest of the evening brought her little amusement. She was teased by
Mr. Collins, who continued most perseveringly by her side; and though he
could not prevail with her to dance with him again, put it out of her
power to dance with others. In vain did she entreat him to stand up with
somebody else, and offered to introduce him to any young lady in the
room. He assured her that, as to dancing, he was perfectly indifferent
to it; that his chief object was, by delicate attentions, to recommend
himself to her; and that he should therefore make a point of remaining
close to her the whole evening. There was no arguing upon such a
project. She owed her greatest relief to her friend Miss Lucas, who
often joined them, and good-naturedly engaged Mr. Collins’s conversation
to herself.
She was at least free from the offence of Mr. Darcy’s further notice:
though often standing within a very short distance of her, quite
disengaged, he never came near enough to speak. She felt it to be the
probable consequence of her allusions to Mr. Wickham, and rejoiced in
it.
The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart; and by a
manœuvre of Mrs. Bennet had to wait for their carriage a quarter of an
hour after everybody else was gone, which gave them time to see how
heartily they were wished away by some of the family. Mrs. Hurst and her
sister scarcely opened their mouths except to complain of fatigue, and
were evidently impatient to have the house to themselves. They repulsed
every attempt of Mrs. Bennet at conversation, and, by so doing, threw a
languor over the whole party, which was very little relieved by the long
speeches of Mr. Collins, who was complimenting Mr. Bingley and his
sisters on the elegance of their entertainment, and the hospitality and
politeness which had marked their behaviour to their guests. Darcy said
nothing at all. Mr. Bennet, in equal silence, was enjoying the scene.
Mr. Bingley and Jane were standing together a little detached from the
rest, and talked only to each other. Elizabeth preserved as steady a
silence as either Mrs.