by Janet Aylmer
“Which do you mean?” Darcy said. He turned round, and he looked for a moment at the young woman sitting close by till, catching her eye, he withdrew his own. She was talking to a tall serious young lady whom Sir William Lucas had introduced earlier as his eldest daughter.
“She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me,” Darcy said.
“In any case, I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”
Bingley protested but, having no success in his quest, he followed his friend’s advice.
Darcy was left to reflect that with family, fortune and everything in his favour, he was entitled to do as he pleased. There was certainly no reason why he should dance with someone who, because of the scarcity of gentlemen, had been obliged to sit out two dances. Besides that, the conversation that he had overheard between her mother and younger sisters showed them to be vulgar, loud and ill-educated.
By the end of the evening, Darcy had danced once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley. He had rebuffed the efforts of Sir William Lucas to introduce him to any other ladies. He could recall nothing of enjoyment, no conversation worth remembering. Indeed, his greatest pleasure was when the evening came to an end.
5
Bingley’s company was welcome to Darcy precisely because they were so different in character and temperament. In understanding Darcy was the superior; Bingley was able, but his friend was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well bred, were not inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was sure of being liked wherever he appeared, whereas Darcy was continually giving offence.
A thoughtful observer might consider that Darcy’s reluctance to mix in company might be due to the shyness inherited from his father as well as the position in the world on which some of his mother’s family relied, regarding most people as not being worthy of notice. However, these were not considerations of which he was aware.
Darcy never spoke much away from familiar surroundings. Although he was one of the most attentive and best of brothers, only with his immediate family and close friends did he relax and, when he chose, could be very agreeable. Since he had yet to meet any lady whose approbation he wished to seek, Darcy in no way sought to hide his own distaste for company, and his resentment of the need to be sociable. Bingley’s elder sister, Caroline, he acknowledged to have a sharp wit, and she was not always unwelcome when she accompanied her brother, but Darcy had never considered her as a possible wife for himself. She might be handsome in the current fashion, but her ignorance of books and country pursuits, and his own lack of interest in her person, ruled her out from being eligible.
The manner in which the Netherfield party spoke of the Meryton assembly thereafter was characteristic of both Bin-gley and his friend Darcy.
As far as the assembly at Meryton was concerned, Bingley had never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in his life; everybody had been most kind and attentive to him, there had been no formality, no stiffness, and he had soon felt acquainted with all the room. As to the eldest Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful. Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or pleasure.
He commented that Bingley had danced with one of the few young women in the room, Miss Charlotte Lucas, who despite her father’s apparent inability to make any serious conversation, had much that was sensible to say. Miss Bennet, Darcy acknowledged to be pretty, but she smiled too much, and as for the parents and younger sisters...
Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed that Miss Jane Bennet smiled rather often. However, having observed their brother’s interest, they decided that they should pronounce her to be a sweet girl, and one whom they should not object to know more of. Darcy and his sisters’ approbation was sufficient to encourage Bingley’s continuing interest in the delightful Miss Bennet.
The Bennet ladies waited on those at Netherfield, and the visit was in due course returned. Caroline Bingley related to Darcy with relish the limited extent of the park at Longbourn, the worn and unfashionable furnishings in the house, and the vulgar and noisy behaviour of Mrs. Bennet and the youngest daughters. It was not, she said firmly, the type of company with which she usually associated, although she said again that the eldest Miss Bennet was a sweet, charming girl. She was not so complimentary about the second daughter, Miss Elizabeth, or her father, Mr. Bennet, both of whom she found too sharp, and too able to match her own wit.
In the fortnight after the Meryton assembly, Bingley and the eldest Miss Bennet met from time to time, although always in large mixed parties. Having danced four dances with her at Meryton; he saw her one morning at Netherfield, and dined in company with her on four occasions.
For Darcy, an unexpected consequence of Bingley’s developing interest in that lady was that he found himself often in the company of her sister. Without first being aware of it, and against his will, Darcy found himself becoming conscious of the presence of Miss Elizabeth Bennet whenever they were together, and of his being disappointed when she was not present.
Having rejected his friend’s opinion of her at Meryton, he had begun by assuming that she was, like her mother and her younger sisters Mary, Catherine and Lydia, well below his consideration. But no sooner had he made this very clear to himself and to his friends, than he began to find more than a passing pleasure in her lively expression, the quickness of mind displayed in her conversation, and the quality of her dark eyes. He had to concede that her figure was more than light and pleasing and he was caught by the easy playfulness of her manners.
As ever, he was not confident of his skills in discourse, but as a step towards speaking with her himself, Darcy began often to attend to her conversation with others.
A large party was assembled at Sir William Lucas’s, and Darcy had been in a group with his host’s eldest daughter, Charlotte, whom he had observed was often in company with her close friend, Miss Elizabeth.
Those attending the party included Colonel Forster, who commanded a regiment newly stationed at Meryton, and Darcy overheard Miss Elizabeth Bennet conversing with Miss Lucas.
“What does Mr. Darcy mean,” said she, “by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?”
“That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer,” Miss Lucas replied, looking in his direction.
He quickly turned away, in order that his interest should not be discovered, but not so far that he could not hear Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s reply.
“But if he does it any more, I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him.”
Darcy approached them more closely soon afterwards, though without any intention of speaking. However, Miss Elizabeth Bennet turned to him and said, “Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?”
Darcy found her liveliness very appealing and as quickly replied.
“With great energy; but it is a subject which always makes a lady energetic.”
“You are severe on us.”
Miss Lucas took pity on him.
“It will be her turn soon to be teased. I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.”
“You are a very strange creature by way of a friend, always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable, but as it is,” and she looked at Darcy directly as she spoke, “I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers.”
Unlike his usual response to flattery, Darcy
found himself pleased that she had at least acknowledged him. He was not unwilling to hear her play, and on Miss Lucas’s persevering, was pleased to hear Miss Bennet say, “Very well; if it must be so, it must.”
She glanced at Darcy as she added, “There is a fine old saying, which every body here is of course familiar with ‘Keep your breath to cool your porridge,’ and I shall keep mine to swell my song.”
Her performance was pleasing to Darcy’s ear and he found that he had no wish for the recital to end.
But, after a few songs, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her younger sister, Mary, who had neither genius nor taste, and had a pedantic air and conceited manner. Darcy decided, after hearing a few bars of the tune, that he had listened to Miss Elizabeth Bennet with much more pleasure, though she might not have played half so well.
At last Miss Mary Bennet was persuaded to play Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters who, with some of the Lucases and two or three officers joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room. Since, as usual, Darcy disdained to dance, he stood observing, in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation.
He was thus occupied, so as to be unaware that his host had approached him, till Sir William began.
“What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies.”
“Certainly, Sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance.”
Although Darcy had intended this comment to silence him, Sir William only smiled.
“Your friend performs delightfully,” he continued after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group, “and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy.”
“You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, Sir.”
“Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James’s?”
“Never, Sir,” said Darcy, again hoping that Sir William would desist.
“Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?”
“It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it.”
“You have a house in town, I conclude?”
Darcy bowed. He hoped by saying nothing to end the conversation, but Sir William was not so easily disconcerted.
“I had once some thoughts of fixing in town myself, for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas.”
He paused, but Darcy was not disposed to make any answer.
At that moment, on Miss Elizabeth Bennet moving towards them, his host called out to her,
“My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.”
Taking Miss Bennet’s hand, Sir William would have given it to him, and he was not unwilling to receive it.
She however drew back and said, “Indeed, Sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.”
At this, Darcy found himself to be genuine in requesting to be allowed the honour of her hand for the next dance. To his surprise, for he was certainly not accustomed to such an answer, she persisted in her refusal.
Sir William made a further attempt at persuasion.
“You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half hour.”
“Mr. Darcy is all politeness,” said Miss Elizabeth Bennet, smiling slightly, so that he thought that this time she might agree.
“He is indeed but, considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance; for who would object to such a partner?”
Miss Bennet looked as though to speak, but then turned away.
To Darcy, her response was a refreshing contrast to his usual experience, and did not damage his opinion of her. His eyes followed as she crossed the room to talk to the eldest Miss Lucas, and he was thinking of her with pleasure when he was accosted by Miss Bingley.
“I can guess the subject of your reverie.”
“I should imagine not.”
“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed!”
Darcy, very used to her manner of speaking, did not consider that this merited a reply.
“The insipidity and yet the noise; the nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!”
Darcy was at first inclined to maintain his silence, but then decided that what she had ventured deserved contradiction.
“Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.”
Hoping that he was alluding to herself, Miss Bingley desired he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections.
He replied without any hesitation, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” repeated Miss Bingley, by turns angry and mortified. “I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite? and pray, when am I to wish you joy?”
“That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask,” Darcy replied calmly. “A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.”
“Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter as absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed, and of course she will be always at Pemberley with you.”
He listened to her without comment, whilst reflecting that his sister’s opinion of Miss Bingley was perhaps very fair.
Despite his silence, she chose to entertain herself by continuing in this vein for some time, but Darcy took no notice, being as usual unconcerned with any opinion contrary to his own.
Part Two
He never speaks much unless amongst his intimate
acquaintance...
but...Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself
without any disguise.
6
On the following day, since Bingley and Darcy were to dine with the officers of the regiment, Caroline Bingley sent a note by a servant to Longbourn, to invite Miss Jane Bennet to join the two sisters for dinner that evening.
When the gentlemen returned, it was raining, and they were greeted with the news that Miss Bennet had indeed travelled to Netherfield, but on horseback. The consequence of her not travelling in her father’s carriage meant that she was to remain overnight. The next morning it soon became clear that her damp journey had resulted in Miss Bennet catching a chill, with a sore throat.
Bingley and his sisters would not hear of her returning home until she was better, so a note was sent to tell Miss Elizabeth Bennet that Mr. Jones the apothecary had been called, although there was no cause for alarm. When Darcy looked out of the window a few hours later, it was with some considerable surprise that he saw that same lady trudging across the lawns in front of Netherfield House.
When she was shown into the breakfast parlour, where Bingley and the others were all seated, it was clear from the state of her skirts that she must have walked all the 3 miles from Longbourn. When this was questioned by Miss Bingley, Miss Elizabeth Bennet explained that she was no horsewoman and enjoyed walking. She asked anxiously to be taken immediately to see her sister.
As she left the room, Darcy could not help but note that her face was glowin
g with the warmth of the exercise, although he doubted whether she should have come so far alone. Two of those present had less charitable matters on their mind. That she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and they commented upon it at length. Darcy did not support their criticisms, and Mr. Hurst said nothing at all, since he was thinking only of his breakfast.
It soon became clear that Miss Bennet had not slept well, being very feverish and not well enough to leave her room. When breakfast was over, the apothecary came and, having examined his patient, said that she had caught a violent cold, and advised her to return to bed, promising to provide some draughts. The advice was followed readily, since her feverish symptoms had apparently increased, together with a headache.
That morning, Darcy and Bingley went out to shoot with Mr. Hurst and, when they returned, found that Miss Bingley had offered Miss Elizabeth Bennet the carriage for her return journey. However, her elder sister had been so concerned at her leaving that the offer had to be converted into an invitation for her to remain at Netherfield for the present.
Darcy was not unhappy that this offer was accepted, and in due course to see Miss Elizabeth Bennet summoned to dinner. To the enquiries that were made, she could not respond with a very favourable answer and, after dinner, she returned directly to her sister’s room.
Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was gone. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no style, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and added,
“She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild.”
“She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowsy!”
