"Not at all," was her answer; "but depend upon it, he means to be severe on us,
and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it."
Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in any thing,
and persevered therefore in requiring an explanation of his two motives.
"I have not the smallest objection to explaining them," said he, as soon as she
allowed him to speak. "You either chuse this method of passing the evening because
you are in each other's confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because
you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking;
-- if the first, I should be completely in your way; -- and if the second, I can
admire you much better as I sit by the fire."
"Oh! shocking!" cried Miss Bingley. "I never heard any thing so abominable. How
shall we punish him for such a speech?"
"Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination," said Elizabeth. "We can all
plague and punish one another. Teaze him -- laugh at him. -- Intimate as you are,
you must know how it is to be done."
"But upon my honour I do not. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet
taught me that. Teaze calmness of temper and presence of mind! No, no -- I feel
he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please,
by attempting to laugh without a subject.
Mr. Darcy may hug himself."
"Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!" cried Elizabeth. "That is an uncommon advantage,
and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have
many such acquaintance. I dearly love a laugh."
"Miss Bingley," said he, "has given me credit for more than can be. The wisest
and the best of men, nay, the wisest and best of their actions, may be rendered
ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke."
"Certainly," replied Elizabeth -- "there are such people, but I hope I am not
one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies and nonsense,
whims and inconsistencies do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I
can. -- But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without."
"Perhaps that is not possible for any one. But it has been the study of my life
to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule."
"Such as vanity and pride."
"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride -- where there is a real superiority
of mind, pride will be always under good regulation."
Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.
"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume," said Miss Bingley; -- "and
pray what is the result?"
"I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect.
He owns it himself without disguise."
"No" -- said Darcy, "I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but
they are not, I hope, of understanding.
My temper I dare not vouch for. -- It is I believe too little yielding -- certainly
too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices
of others so soon as I ought, nor their offences against myself. My feelings are
not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called
resentful. -- My good opinion once lost is lost for ever."
"That is a failing indeed!" -- cried Elizabeth. "Implacable resentment is
a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. -- I really cannot
laugh at it; you are safe from me."
"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil,
a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome."
"And your defect is a propensity to hate every body."
"And yours," he replied with a smile, "is wilfully to misunderstand them."
"Do let us have a little music," -- cried Miss Bingley, tired of a conversation
in which she had no share. -- "Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst."
Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the piano-forte was opened, and
Darcy, after a few moments recollection, was not sorry for it. He began to feel
the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.
<CHAPTER XII (12)>
IN consequence of an agreement between the sisters, Elizabeth wrote the next
morning to her mother, to beg that the carriage might be sent for them in the course
of the day. But Mrs. Bennet, who had calculated on her daughters remaining at Netherfield
till the following Tuesday, which would exactly finish Jane's week, could not bring
herself to receive hem with pleasure before. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious,
at least not to Elizabeth's wishes, for she was impatient to get home. Mrs. Bennet
sent them word that they could not possibly have the carriage before Tuesday; and
in her postscript it was added that, if Mr. Bingley and his sister pressed them
to stay longer, she could spare them very well. -- Against staying longer, however,
Elizabeth was positively resolved -- nor did she much expect it would be asked;
and fearful, on the contrary, as being considered as intruding themselves needlessly
long, she urged Jane to borrow Mr. Bingley's carriage immediately, and at length
it was settled that their original design of leaving Netherfield that morning should
be mentioned, and the request made.
The communication excited many professions of concern; and enough was said of
wishing them to stay at least till the following day, to work on Jane; and till
the morrow their going was deferred. Miss Bingley was then sorry that she had proposed
the delay, for her jealousy and dislike of one sister much exceeded her affection
for the other.
The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were to go so soon,
and repeatedly tried to persuade Miss Bennet that it would not be safe for her --
that she was not enough recovered; but Jane was firm where she felt herself to be
right.
To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence -- Elizabeth had been at Netherfield
long enough. She attracted him more than he liked -- and Miss Bingley was uncivil
to her, and more teazing than usual to himself. He wisely resolved to be particularly
careful that no sign of admiration should now escape him, nothing that could elevate
her with the hope of influencing his felicity; sensible that if such an idea had
been suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material weight in confirming
or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely spoke ten words to her through
the whole of Saturday, and though they were at one time left by themselves for half
an hour, he adhered most conscientiously to his book, and would not even look at
her.
On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable to almost all,
took place. Miss Bingley's civility to Elizabeth increased at last very rapidly,
as well as her affection for Jane; and when they parted, after assuring the latter
of the pleasure it would always give her to see her either at Longbourn or Netherfield,
and embracing her most tenderly, she even shook hands with the former. -- Elizabeth
took leave of the whole party in the liveliest spirits.
They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother.
Mrs. Bennet wondered at their coming, and thought them very wrong to give so
much trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught cold again. -- But their father,
though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see them;
he had felt their importance in the family circle. The evening conversation, when
they were all assembled, had lost much of its animation, and almost all its sense,
by the absence of Jane and Elizabeth.
They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough bass and human nature;
and had some new extracts to admire, and some new observations of thread-bare morality
to listen to.
Catherine and Lydia had information for them of a different sort. Much had been
done and much had been said in the regiment since the preceding Wednesday; several
of the officers had dined lately with their uncle, a private had been flogged, and
it had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married.
<CHAPTER XIII (13)>
"I HOPE my dear," said Mr. Bennet to his wife as they were at breakfast the next
morning, "that you have ordered a good dinner to-day, because I have reason to expect
an addition to our family party."
"Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless
Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in, and I hope my dinners are good enough
for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home."
"The person of whom I speak, is a gentleman and a stranger."
Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled. -- "A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. Bingley,
I am sure. Why Jane -- you never dropt a word of this; you sly thing! Well, I am
sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. -- But -- good lord! how unlucky!
there is not a bit of fish to be got to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must
speak to Hill, this moment."
"It is not Mr. Bingley," said her husband; "it is a person whom I never saw
in the whole course of my life."
This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of being eagerly
questioned by his wife and five daughters at once.