shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too much like her brother – very, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen. Since her father’s death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her.”
“I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley!” said Elizabeth. “How can Mr. Bingley, who is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Bingley?”
“Not at all.”
“He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. Darcy is.”
“Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. His pride never deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and perhaps agreeable. By the way, you know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy?”
“No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine’s connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before yesterday.”
“Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and they say that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.”
This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor Miss Bingley.
“Mr. Collins,” said she, “speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her daughter.”
“I have not seen her for many years,” replied Wickham; “but I very well remember that I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent.”
Elizabeth smiled. Mr. Wickham’s manners recommended him to everybody. Whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done gracefully. Elizabeth could think of nothing but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all the way home.
Chapter 17
Elizabeth related to Jane the next day what had passed between Mr. Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern; she did not know how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr. Bingley’s regard.
Mr. Bingley and his sisters came to give their personal invitation for the long-expected ball at Netherfield, which was fixed for the following Tuesday. The two ladies were delighted to see their dear friend again. To the rest of the family they paid little attention; avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying not much to Elizabeth, and nothing at all to the others.
The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every female of the family. Mrs. Bennet was particularly flattered by receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the society of her two friends, and Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing with Mr. Wickham.
Elizabeth was in a very good mood. And though she did not often speak to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley’s invitation.
“I do not think, I assure you,” said he, “that a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can have any evil tendency. And I take this opportunity of inviting you, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances.”
Elizabeth accepted Mr. Collins’s proposal with as good a grace as she could.
Chapter 18
Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield, and looked in vain for Mr. Wickham, a doubt of his coming had never occurred to her. But his friend Denny, to whom Lydia eagerly applied, said that Wickham had been obliged to go to town on business the day before.
But Elizabeth was not made for ill-humour; and though her hopes were destroyed for the evening, she could not be sad long. The first two dances, however, brought her a sense of distress; they were dances of mortification. Mr. Collins was awkward and solemn. The moment of her release from him was ecstasy.
She danced next with an officer, and heard that Mr. Wickham was universally liked. When those dances were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas. Suddenly Mr. Darcy invited her to dance. Without knowing what she did, she accepted him.
They stood for some time without speaking a word. She made some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time with: – “It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples.”
He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said.
“Very well. Perhaps I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But now we may be silent.”
“Do you talk while you are dancing?”
“Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know.”
They were again silent till they had gone down the dance, when he asked her if she and her sisters did not very often walk to Meryton. She answered ‘yes’, and, unable to resist the temptation, added, “When you met us there the other day, we had just met a new acquaintance.”
The effect was immediate. Darcy said, “Mr. Wickham has so happy manners that he makes friends easily.”
“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” replied Elizabeth with emphasis.
Darcy made no answer.
“What do you think of books?” said he, smiling.
“Books – oh! no. I am sure we never read the same books, or not with the same feelings.”
“I am sorry you think so; but we may compare our different opinions.”
“No – I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full of something else.”
“The present always occupies you – does it?” said he, with a look of doubt.
“Yes, always,” she replied, without knowing what she said.
She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in silence; and on each side dissatisfied.
Miss Bingley came towards her:
“Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with George Wickham! Your sister has been talking to me about him, and asking me a thousand questions. I find that the young man quite forgot to tell you that he was the son of old Wickham, the late Mr. Darcy’s steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to believe him much; for as to Mr. Darcy’s using him ill, it is perfectly false; for, on the contrary, he has always been remarkably kind to him, though George Wickham has treated Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner.”
“You are much mistaken,” said Elizabeth to herself, “if you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack as this. I see nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth came to Jane.
“I
