Читать книгу Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austin, Jane Austin - Страница 8

The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The

visit was soon returned in due form. Miss Bennet’s pleasing

manners grew on the goodwill of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and

though the mother was found to be intolerable, and the younger

sisters not worth speaking to, a wish of being better acquainted

with _them_ was expressed towards the two eldest. By Jane, this

attention was received with the greatest pleasure, but Elizabeth

still saw superciliousness in their treatment of everybody,

hardly excepting even her sister, and could not like them; though

their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value as arising in

all probability from the influence of their brother’s admiration.

It was generally evident whenever they met, that he _did_ admire

her and to _her_ it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to

the preference which she had begun to entertain for him from the

first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but she

considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered

by the world in general, since Jane united, with great strength

of feeling, a composure of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of

manner which would guard her from the suspicions of the

impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas.

“It may perhaps be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to

impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a

disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her

affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose

the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor

consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is so

much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it

is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all _begin_ freely—a

slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us

who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement.

In nine cases out of ten a woman had better show _more_ affection

than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he may

never do more than like her, if she does not help him on.”

“But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If

_I_ can perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton,

indeed, not to discover it too.”

“Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane’s disposition as you

do.”

“But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to

conceal it, he must find it out.”

“Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But, though Bingley

and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours

together; and, as they always see each other in large mixed

parties, it is impossible that every moment should be employed in

conversing together. Jane should therefore make the most of every

half-hour in which she can command his attention. When she is

secure of him, there will be more leisure for falling in love as

much as she chooses.”

“Your plan is a good one,” replied Elizabeth, “where nothing is

in question but the desire of being well married, and if I were

determined to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I

should adopt it. But these are not Jane’s feelings; she is not

acting by design. As yet, she cannot even be certain of the

degree of her own regard nor of its reasonableness. She has known

him only a fortnight. She danced four dances with him at Meryton;

she saw him one morning at his own house, and has since dined

with him in company four times. This is not quite enough to make

her understand his character.”

“Not as you represent it. Had she merely _dined_ with him, she

might only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but

you must remember that four evenings have also been spent

together—and four evenings may do a great deal.”

“Yes; these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that

they both like Vingt-un better than Commerce; but with respect to

any other leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has

been unfolded.”

“Well,” said Charlotte, “I wish Jane success with all my heart;

and if she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had

as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his

character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a

matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so

well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand, it does

not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to

grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of

vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the

defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.”

“You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it

is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself.”

Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley’s attentions to her sister,

Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming

an object of some interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy

had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; he had looked at

her without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he

looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it

clear to himself and his friends that she hardly had a good

feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered

uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark

eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying.

Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure

of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her

figure to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting

that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was

caught by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly

unaware; to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable

nowhere, and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance

with.

He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards

conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation with

others. His doing so drew her notice. It was at Sir William

Lucas’s, where a large party were assembled.

“What does Mr. Darcy mean,” said she to Charlotte, “by listening

to my conversation with Colonel Forster?”

“That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer.”

“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.”

On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming

to have any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend

to mention such a subject to him; which immediately provoking

Elizabeth to do it, she turned to him and said:

“Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly

well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a

ball at Meryton?”

“With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a lady

energetic.”

“You are severe on us.”

“It will be _her_ turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas. “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, I would really rather not sit down before those who

must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers.” On

Miss Lucas’s persevering, however, she added, “Very well, if it

must be so, it must.” And gravely glancing at Mr. Darcy, “There

is a fine old saying, which everybody 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, though by no means capital. After a

song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of

several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at

the instrument by her sister Mary, who having, in consequence of

being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for knowledge

and accomplishments, was always impatient for display.

Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given

her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and

conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of

excellence than she had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected,

had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing

half so well; and Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was glad

to purchase praise and gratitude by 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.

Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of

passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and

was too much engrossed by his thoughts to perceive that Sir

William Lucas was his neighbour, till Sir William thus 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 society.”

“Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue

amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage

can dance.”

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.”

“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?”

Mr. Darcy bowed.

“I had once had some thought 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 in hopes of an answer; but his companion was not

disposed to make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving

towards them, he was struck with the action of doing a very

gallant thing, and called out to her:

“My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not 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.” And, taking her hand, he would have given

it to Mr. Darcy who, though extremely surprised, was not

unwilling to receive it, when she instantly drew back, and said

with some discomposure to Sir William:

“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.”

Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the

honour of her hand, but in vain. Elizabeth was determined; nor

did Sir William at all shake her purpose by his 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 Elizabeth, smiling.

“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?”

Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not

injured her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her with

some complacency, when thus 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! The insipidity, and yet

the noise—the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all

those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!”

“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.”

Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired

he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such

reflections. Mr. Darcy replied with great intrepidity:

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” repeated Miss Bingley. “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. 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 serious about it, I shall consider the matter is

absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law,

indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with

you.”

He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to

entertain herself in this manner; and as his composure convinced

her that all was safe, her wit flowed long.