Netherfield was lighted with gaiety, and a good many candles, on the evening the Bingleys chose to hold their ball. In attendance were many of the local families as well as a good portion of the officers from the local militia.
The music was lively and conversation was abundant as preparations were made to begin the dancing portion of the evening. The arrival of the Bennets stirred Charles to pry himself from conversation and attend to Jane. He inquired as to her health and, learning she was well, stated he was overjoyed to hear the good news.
Miss Elizabeth and her sisters immediately took to conversing with the officers, and upon the conclusion of one such conversation, Mr. Darcy approached Miss Elizabeth.
“Pleasant evening for a ball I should imagine. I trust you are doing well Miss Bennet?”
“I am well, as you say; and I too find the evening adequate for a ball.”
The coldness of her reply did not escape Darcy’s attention.
“It is pleasing to see your sister is well. Has she fully recovered from her tortuous ordeal?”
“My sister’s health is a private matter for which she is better suited to answer than I. She is now, as you see her.”
Elizabeth nodded towards Jane, demonstrating that the health of her sister was available for anyone who chose to gaze upon her. Darcy bowed in a polite manner and without a word departed Elizabeth’s company.
Retreating to social circles that he was more comfortable with, Darcy watched Elizabeth periodically. Her cold demeanor appeared to remain for several minutes and darkened as she took to the floor for the first of the dances.
She did not stand up with any gentleman of Darcy’s acquaintance. This gentleman appeared unsophisticated in mannerism and less than adept at dance. Rather than confidence with his motions, he substituted an apologetic air and a tendency to perform incorrect maneuvers. Darcy could well understand Elizabeth’s cold demeanor if she were obligated to dance with this individual.
Elizabeth’s mood increased greatly with the completion of the first two dances and with the obligation to her partner fulfilled. The officers whom she then danced with, lightened her spirit, and her conversation with the ladies appeared intense and motivated.
Deeming this to be a more apt time for conversation, Darcy crossed the room again and enticed Miss Elizabeth for a dance upon the resumption of the activity. Elizabeth appeared off guard and agreed to the dance, more out of habit and graciousness than of any reflective thought.
Returning to his former position in the room, Darcy contemplated once again on the cold attitude of Miss Bennet. His thoughts were assisted in reasoning as Charles approached him.
“Darcy, I have just had the most unusual conversation with Miss Jane Bennet, followed by another with my sister. Miss Bennet questioned me regarding the relationship between you and George Wickham. She was of the opinion that Wickham is an amiable chap and well liked among the community. I could not support the opinion and remarked as much, mentioning only that he is not a respectable gentleman to my understanding.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. Shortly after this conversation, Caroline approached me with news of Miss Elizabeth’s inquiries as to Wickham’s location tonight. She is not well pleased in regards to his absence; young Lt. Denny took it upon himself to inform various parties that the absence of Mr. Wickham is in deference to your strictures.”
Casting about the room, Darcy found the Lieutenant engaged in an animated conversation with several ladies and fellow officers. He held little malice towards the young man whom he had beaten readily at arms; however, malice aside, Darcy could find little about the lieutenant to recommend. His manners seemed overly forward and he displayed a propensity to boast. This, thought Darcy, will lend his character well suited to Wickham’s.
A bell sounded announcing the beginning of the next dance and Darcy returned to claim his partner; albeit in a much sterner mood. The dance began and Darcy refrained from a more pleasant tone of conversation. To her credit, Miss Bennet made an attempt at civil conversation, to which Darcy was kind but short in reply. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time.
“It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some kind 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. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones, but now we may be silent.”
“Do you talk by rule then, while you are dancing?”
“Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together, and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.”
“Are you attempting to appease your own feelings on the matter or mine?”
“Both,” replied Elizabeth archly; “for I have always seen a great similarity in the way that you and I think. Each of us has an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb.”
“That may be a true statement in regards to yourself, but perhaps not of me. However, I would wager that you think it is.
“I have not fully decided yet,” she replied.
He made no answer, and 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 in the affirmative, and, unable to resist the temptation, added, “When you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance.”
The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of red overspread his features, but he said not a word, and Elizabeth, though blaming herself for her own weakness, could not go on. At length Darcy spoke, and in a constrained manner said,
“Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends; whether he may be equally capable of retaining them is less certain.”
“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” replied Elizabeth with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life.”
Darcy made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the subject. At that moment Sir William Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to pass through the set to the other side of the room; but on perceiving Mr. Darcy he stopped with a bow of superior courtesy, to compliment him on his dancing and his partner. The man did so and then left politely.
“Sir William’s interruption has made me forget what we were talking of.”
“I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have interrupted any two people in the room who had less to say for themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine.”
“What think you of books?” said he, smiling.
“Books? Oh! No. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings.” Elizabeth watched her partner for a moment and curiosity got the better of her. “I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created.”
“I am,” said he, with a firm voice.
“And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”
“I hope not.”
“It is particularly important for those who never change their opinion, to be certain of judging properly at first.”
“May I ask to what these questions tend?”
“Merely to the illustration of your character,” said she, endeavoring to shake off her gravity. “I am trying to make it out.”
“And what is your success?”
She shook her head. “I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”
“I can readily believe,” he answered gravely, “that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that my performance would reflect no credit on either.”
“But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity.”
“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” he coldly replied. She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in silence; on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree, for in Darcy’s breast there was a tolerable powerful feeling towards her, which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against another.
It was not often Darcy would feel a rage such as he felt this moment. Were Wickham in attendance this evening he might well be receptive to a boxed ear. Calming himself as he knew he must, Darcy engaged in conversation with Louisa and Mr. Hurst.
Shortly Darcy was accosted by the odd gentlemen who previously stood up with Elizabeth at the outset of the ball.
“You are Mr. Darcy I believe. Please accept my apology for being forward with introductions. I am Mr. Collins.”
Darcy scrutinized the odd gentlemen with an interested and confused eye. Mr. Collins appeared to be of little breeding, poor stature, and poorer manners. The forward and unannounced introduction accosting Darcy could only be responded to with a curt nod of acknowledgment; not to the receptiveness of the introduction, but to the understanding of the information provided.
“I have recently taken residence at Hunsford as the Reverend for Rosings Park and your aunt, the ever gracious Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Mr. Collins lowly demeanor became pronounced as he continued to converse in matters of flattery regarding Darcy’s family. Darcy, for his part, stood in wonder of the little man and searched his memory for reports of this appointment.
The previous appointment was held by a respectable man of the clergy, and one in which great trust could be bestowed. For all the secrets his aunt could claim access too, Darcy wondered as to her clarity of mind in assigning the post to this individual. Perhaps he would pull the intelligence reports regarding local post assignments.
Mr. Collins continued to display his lack of breeding and manners, allowing only a brief interlude for Mr. Darcy to comment. Being in a state of wonder, the latter could only reply in a polite, curt manner.
Vexation seized Darcy, and he determined to discuss the matter of Mr. Collins with his aunt. He could only conjecture that her desire to inject herself in matters well beyond her responsibility had overshadowed good sense.
At the conclusion of the conversation the following information was clear to Darcy. Mr. Collins was recently released from the rectory and found a favorable patroness in Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Darcy’s aunt. As the fates ordained, Mr. Collins was cousin and heir to the Bennet family and estate of Longbourn, respectively. It was his intent, at this juncture of his life, to seek a wife and repair with rapidity the social ills between the Collinses and the Bennets; the source of which were matters of inheritance and family squabbles which Mr. Collins repeatedly assured belonged to a prior generation.
After much repetitive banter and apologies, Mr. Collins withdrew from Mr. Darcy. Darcy watched the man leave and noted that Mr. Collins was well pleased with himself.
An interesting gentleman to be sure, surmised Darcy; perhaps fine for a minister position in many a small village, but Mr. Collins effeminate demeanor and propensity to talk did not suit a position so close to Rosings Park. Darcy spent the rest of the evening in contemplation of the events that had recently transpired, and eventually decided that he could endure little more in the way of surprises.