บทที่ บทที่ 11 · 第11章

When the ladies removed after dinner Elizabeth ran up to her sister, and

seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into the drawing-room,

where she was welcomed by her two friends with many professions of

pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable as they were

during the hour which passed before the gentlemen appeared. Their powers

of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment

with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their

acquaintance with spirit.

But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object;

Miss Bingley’s eyes were instantly turned towards Darcy, and she had

something to say to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed

himself directly to Miss Bennet with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst

also made her a slight bow, and said he was “very glad;” but 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; and she removed, at his desire,

to the other side of the fireplace, that she might be farther from the

door. He then sat down by her, 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. She had obtained private intelligence that Mr.

Darcy did not wish for cards, and Mr. Hurst soon found even his open

petition rejected. She 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, therefore, nothing to do but to stretch himself on one of the

sofas and go to sleep. Darcy took up a book. Miss Bingley did the same;

and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her bracelets and

rings, joined now and then in her brother’s conversation with Miss

Bennet.

Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr.

Darcy’s progress through _his_ book, as in reading her own; and she was

perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She

could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her

question and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be

amused with her own book, which she had only chosen because it was the

second volume of his, 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 round the room in quest of some amusement; when, hearing

her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly

towards him and said,--

“By the bye Charles, are you really serious in meditating 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,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he

chooses, before it begins; but as for the ball, it is quite a settled

thing, and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough I shall send

round my cards.”

“I should like balls infinitely better,” she replied, “if they were

carried on in a different manner; but 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 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 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. In the

desperation of her feelings, she resolved on one effort more; and,

turning to Elizabeth, 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 so

long in one attitude.”

Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss Bingley

succeeded no less in the real object of her civility: Mr. Darcy looked

up. He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as

Elizabeth herself could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He was

directly invited to join their party, but he declined it, observing that

he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down

the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would

interfere. What could he mean? She was dying to know what could be his

meaning--and asked Elizabeth whether she could at all understand him.

“Not at all,” was her answer; “but, depend upon it, he means to be

severe on us, 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, and persevered, therefore, in requiring an explanation of his

two motives.

“I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,” said he, as soon

as she allowed him to speak. “You either choose this method of passing

the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret

affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures

appear to the greatest advantage in walking: if the first, I should be

completely in your way; and if the second, I can admire you much better

as I sit by the fire.”

“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,” said 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 temper 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 acquaintance. I dearly love a

laugh.”

“Miss Bingley,” said he, “has given me credit for more than can be. The

wisest and 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,” replied Elizabeth, “there are such people, but I hope I am

not one of _them_. I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies

and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, _do_ divert me, I own, and I

laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, 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 be always 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 by it that 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 they are not, I hope, of understanding. 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 their 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 for

ever.”

“_That_ is a failing, indeed!” cried Elizabeth. “Implacable resentment

_is_ a shade in a 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 a propensity to hate everybody.”

“And yours,” he replied, with a smile, “is wilfully to misunderstand

them.”

“Do let us have a little music,” cried Miss Bingley, tired of a

conversation in which she had no share. “Louisa, you will not mind my

waking Mr. Hurst.”

Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was

opened; and Darcy, after a few moments’ recollection, was not sorry for

it. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.

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