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After dinner, Elizabeth ran up to check on Jane. The eldest Bennet daughter seemed much improved in health. The sisters decided to go to the drawing room and spend time with the other women.
When the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object. Miss Bingley's eyes instantly turned toward Darcy, and she had something to say to him before he had advanced many steps into the room.
Barely allowing someone to enter a room before accosting them, Elizabeth considered plain rude.
Mr. Darcy addressed himself to Miss Bennet, with a polite congratulation.
Mr. Hurst also gave her a slight bow; he was "very glad" of her improving health.
True, honest 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. She removed at his desire to the other side of the fireplace that she might be further from the door. Charles Bingley then sat down by Jane 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.
Caroline Bingley 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 nothing to do, therefore, but stretch himself on one of the sofas and go to sleep.
Darcy took up a book. Miss Bingley did the same. Principally occupied in playing with her bracelets and rings, Mrs. Hurst joined in her brother's conversation with Jane.
Miss Bingley's attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Darcy's progress through his book, as in reading her own. She was perpetually either making some inquiry or looking at his page. She could not win him to any conversation. He merely answered her questions, and read on.
At length, 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.
She then yawned again, threw aside her book, and cast her eyes around the room in quest for some amusement. When her brother mentioned a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned towards him. "By the bye, Charles, are you really serious about holding a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party. I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure."
"If you mean Darcy, he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins—" replied Charles. "As for the ball, it is quite a settled thing. As soon as Nicholls has made enough white soup, I shall send round my cards."
She replied, "I should like balls infinitely better if they carried on differently. There is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing were made the order of the day."
"Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be near so much like a ball."
Miss Bingley made no answer, and soon afterwards she got up and walked about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious.
Turning to Elizabeth, she said, "Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting still for so long."
Elizabeth was surprised but agreed to it immediately.
Miss Bingley succeeded no less in the real object of her civility; Mr. Darcy looked up and closed his book.
Darcy was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as Elizabeth herself could be.
Miss Bingley invited him directly to join their party.
He declined it, explaining that he could imagine only two motives for their choosing to walk up and down the room together. His joining them would interfere with either of these motives.
Miss Bingley asked Elizabeth if she knew what Mr. Darcy was talking about.
"Not at all, but depend upon it, he means to be severe on us," Elizabeth replied. "and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it."
Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in anything. Driven by her need to know him she persevered in requiring an explanation of his two motives.
"I have not the smallest objection to explaining them. Perhaps you choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other's confidence and have secret affairs to discuss. Alternatively, you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking. If the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire."
How bold!
Despite all her thoughts about him, Elizabeth glowed on the inside that Darcy explicitly stated he wanted to admire her figure as she walked.
"Oh! shocking!" cried Miss Bingley. "I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?"
"Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination," replied Elizabeth. "We can all plague and punish one another. Tease 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. Tease calmness of manner 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 acquaintances. I dearly love a laugh."
"Miss Bingley has given me more credit than can be," said Mr. Darcy. "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, there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them," replied Elizabeth. "I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, are precisely what you are without."
"Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. 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 always be 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, 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 I hope, misunderstanding is not one of them. 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 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 forever."
"That is a failing indeed!" cried Elizabeth. "Implacable resentment is a shade in 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 to hate everybody."
"And yours," he replied with a smile, "is willfully to misunderstand them."
"Do let us have a little music," cried Miss Bingley, apparently tired of a conversation in which she had no share. "Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst?"
Her sister had not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was opened.