PRIDE & PREJUDICE: JANE AUSTEN: CHAPTER TEN

The day passed much as the day before.  Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley spent some of the morning hours with Jane, who continued though slowly to mend. In the evening Elizabeth joined their party in the drawing room.  

Mr Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley seated near him, was watching the progress of his letter. Mr Hurst and Mr Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs Hurst was observing the game.  Elizabeth sat with some needle work, enjoying what passed between Darcy and his companion.

"How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!" said Miss Bingley.

He made no answer.

"You write uncommonly fast."

"You are mistaken, I write rather slowly."

"How many letters you write in the course of a year! Letters of business too! How odious."

"It is fortunate that they fall to my lot instead of yours."

"Pray tell your sister that I long to see her."

"I have already told her so once, by your desire."

"I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well."

"Thank you - but I always mend my own."

"How can you contrive to write so even?"

He was silent.

"Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp, and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful design for a table and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley's."

"Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At present I have not room to do them justice."

"Oh! It is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr Darcy?

"They are generally long; but whether always charming it is not for me to determine."

"It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with ease, cannot write ill."

"That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline," cried her brother, "because he does not write with ease.  He studies too much for words of four syllables.  Do not you, Darcy?

"My style of writing is very different from yours."

"Oh!" Cried Miss Bingley, "Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable.  He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest."

"My ideas flow so rapidly that I have no time to express them - means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents."

"Your humility, Mr Bingley," said Elizabeth, "must disarm reproof."

"Nothing is more deceitful," said Darcy, "than the appearance of humility.  It is often carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast."

"And which of the two do you call my little recent piece of modesty?"

"The indirect boast; you are really proud of your defects in writing, you consider them as proceeding from rapidity of thought and carelessness of execution, which, if not estimable, you think atleast highly interesting. When you told Mrs Bennet this morning that if you ever resolved upon quitting Netherfield you should be gone in five minutes you seemed it to be a sort of panygeric, of compliment to yourself and can be of no real advantage."

"Nay," cried Bingley, "this is too much, to remember at night all the foolish things that were said in the morning.  What I said of myself is true and it was not a show off before the ladies."

I dare say you believed it.  But I am not convinced you would go with such a swiftness.  Your conduct would be quite as dependent on chance.  Suppose you were mounting a horse, a friend were to say, 'Bingley, you had better stay till next week,' you would probably do it."

"You have only proved by this," cried Elizabeth, "that Mr Bingley did do justice to his own disposition."

"I am exceedingly gratified," said Mr Bingley, "by your converting what my friend said into a compliment.  But under such circumstance I can give a flat denial and ride off as fast as I could."

"Would Mr Darcy then consider the rashness of your original decision as atoned for by your obstinacy?"

"I cannot exactly explain the matter.  Darcy must speak for himself."

"You expect me to account for the opinions which you choose to call mine, but which I have never acknowledged.  Allowing the case, however, to stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet, that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and the delay of his plan, is desired without offering any argument in favour of its propriety."

"To yield readily to the persuasion of a friend is no merit with you."

"To yield without conviction is no compliment."

"You appear to me, Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence or affection.  A regard for the requester would often make one readily yield to the request, without arguments.  In general and ordinary cases between friend and friend, when one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution, should you think ill of that  person for complying with the desire."

"It depends on the degree of importance of the request and the degree of intimacy between the parties."

"By all means," cried Mr Bingley, "let us hear all particulars. I assure you that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, I should not pay him half so much deference.  I do not know a more awful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening when he has nothing to do."

Mr Darcy smiled. Elizabeth found that Mr Bingley was offended.

"I see your design, Bingley," said his friend.  You dislike argument, and want to silence this.''

"Perhaps I do.  Arguments are like disputes.  If you and Miss Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room I shall be very thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me."

"What you ask is no sacrifice on my side," said Elizabeth, "and Mr Darcy had much better finish his letter."

Mr Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter. 

Darcy applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth for an indulgence of some music.  Miss Bingley seated herself before the pianoforte.

Mrs Hurst sang with her sister.  Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music books that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr Darcy's eyes were fixed on her.  She wondered how she could be an object of admiration to so great a man.

After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a lively Scotch air.  Soon afterwards Mr Darcy, drawing near Elizabeth, said to her: "Do you not feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?"

She smiled, but made no answer.  He repeated the question, with some surprise at her silence.

"Oh!" said she, "I heard you before, but I could not determine what to say. You wanted me to say 'yes' that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing such schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt.  I have,  therefore, made up my mind to tell you, that I do not want to dance a reel at all - and now despise me if you dare."

"Indeed I do not dare."

Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her.  He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connection, he should be in some danger.

Miss Bingley saw, or suspected enough to be jealous, and her great anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth.  She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by talking of their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance.

"I hope," said she, as they were walking together in the shrubbery the next day, "You will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do sure the younger girls of running after officers. And if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to check that little something, boardering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses."

"Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?"

"Oh! yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Phillips be placed in the gallary at Pemberly.  Put them next to your great uncle the judge.  They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines.  As for your Elizabeth's picture, you must not have it taken, for what the painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?"

"It would be easy indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and their eye lashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied."

At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs Hurst and Elizabeth herself.

"I did not know that you intended to walk," said Miss Bingley, in some confusion, lest they had been overheard.

"You used us abominably ill," answered Mrs Hurst, running away without telling us."

Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk by herself.  The path just admitted three. Mr Darcy felt their rudness, and immediately said:

"This walk is not wife enough for our party.  We had better go into the avenue.''

But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them, laughingly answered:

"No, no; stay where you are.  You are charmingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage.  The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good bye."

She then ran gaily off, rejoicing as she rambled about, with the hope of being at home in a day or two.  Jane was already so much recovered as to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours that evening.

THE END