PRIDE AND PREJUDICE by JANE AUSTEN

Originally written in 1813.

Digitized by an unknown party, this text has been on
the Internet for several years and in a number of places.
This is the only electronic edition we have seen that
is good enough to make available at Wiretap.

Corrected against the 1923 R.W.Chapman edition.

This text is in the PUBLIC DOMAIN, posted to Wiretap 8/94.


From: Henry Churchyard <churchh@uts.cc.utexas.edu>
Message-Id: <199408291359.IAA18607@curly.cc.utexas.edu>
To: gopher@wiretap.spies.com
Subject: Pride and Prejudice 
Date: Mon, 29 Aug 1994 08:59:47 -0500

I have uploaded a much-improved and corrected version of the somewhat
corrupted e-text of Jane Austen' _Pride_and_Prejudice_ that has been
floating around the net.

--
         --Henry Churchyard     churchh@uts.cc.utexas.edu


[This e-text is in the public domain, and has been corrected
against the 1923 R.W. Chapman edition, with slight punctuation
modernization, by LIFY436@utxvms.cc.utexas.edu.  Chapman's
chronology and dramatis personae are included at the end of
this file.  Roman-numeral chapter numbers are relative to each
volume, while parenthesized chapter numbers are continuous
throughout the whole work.  Some spelling inconsistencies and
archaisms have been retained from the first editions.]

================================================================

<TITLE                  Pride And Prejudice
>
<SUBTITLE             A Novel in Three Volumes

              by the Author of "Sense and Sensibility"
>
<AUTHOR                     Jane Austen
>
<DATE                          1813
>

<VOLUME I>
<CHAPTER I (1)>

IT is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in
possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.

However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be
on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well
fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is
considered as the rightful property of some one or other of
their daughters.

"My dear Mr. Bennet," said his lady to him one day, "have you
heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"

Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.

"But it is," returned she; "for Mrs. Long has just been here,
and she told me all about it."

Mr. Bennet made no answer.

"Do not you want to know who has taken it?" cried his wife
impatiently.

"_You_ want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it."

This was invitation enough.

"Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield
is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of
England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to
see the place, and was so much delighted with it that he agreed
with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession
before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the
house by the end of next week."

"What is his name?"

"Bingley."

"Is he married or single?"

"Oh!  single, my dear, to be sure!  A single man of large
fortune; four or five thousand a year.  What a fine thing for
our girls!"

"How so?  how can it affect them?"

"My dear Mr. Bennet," replied his wife, "how can you be so
tiresome!  You must know that I am thinking of his marrying
one of them."

"Is that his design in settling here?"

"Design!  nonsense, how can you talk so!  But it is very likely
that he _may_ fall in love with one of them, and therefore you
must visit him as soon as he comes."

"I see no occasion for that.  You and the girls may go, or
you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still
better; for, as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley
might like you the best of the party."

"My dear, you flatter me.  I certainly _have_ had my share of
beauty, but I do not pretend to be any thing extraordinary now.
When a woman has five grown up daughters, she ought to give
over thinking of her own beauty."

"In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of."

"But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he
comes into the neighbourhood."

"It is more than I engage for, I assure you."

"But consider your daughters.  Only think what an establishment
it would be for one of them.  Sir William and Lady Lucas are
determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you
know they visit no new comers.  Indeed you must go, for it will
be impossible for us to visit him, if you do not."

"You are over-scrupulous, surely.  I dare say Mr. Bingley will
be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to
assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying which ever he
chuses of the girls; though I must throw in a good word for my
little Lizzy."

"I desire you will do no such thing.  Lizzy is not a bit better
than the others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as
Jane, nor half so good humoured as Lydia.  But you are always
giving _her_ the preference."

"They have none of them much to recommend them," replied he;
"they are all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy
has something more of quickness than her sisters."

"Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such way?
You take delight in vexing me.  You have no compassion on my
poor nerves."

"You mistake me, my dear.  I have a high respect for your
nerves.  They are my old friends.  I have heard you mention
them with consideration these twenty years at least."

"Ah!  you do not know what I suffer."

"But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young
men of four thousand a year come into the neighbourhood."

"It will be no use to us if twenty such should come, since you
will not visit them."

"Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty I will
visit them all."

Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic
humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three
and twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife
understand his character.  _Her_ mind was less difficult to
develope.  She was a woman of mean understanding, little
information, and uncertain temper.  When she was discontented,
she fancied herself nervous.  The business of her life was to
get her daughters married; its solace was visiting and news.

                              __

<CHAPTER II (2)>

MR. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on
Mr. Bingley.  He had always intended to visit him, though
to the last always assuring his wife that he should not go;
and till the evening after the visit was paid, she had no
knowledge of it.  It was then disclosed in the following
manner.  Observing his second daughter employed in trimming
a hat, he suddenly addressed her with,

"I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy."

"We are not in a way to know _what_ Mr. Bingley likes," said
her mother resentfully, "since we are not to visit."

"But you forget, mama," said Elizabeth, "that we shall meet him
at the assemblies, and that Mrs. Long has promised to introduce
him."

"I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing.  She has
two nieces of her own.  She is a selfish, hypocritical woman,
and I have no opinion of her."

"No more have I," said Mr. Bennet; "and I am glad to find that
you do not depend on her serving you."

Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply; but unable to
contain herself, began scolding one of her daughters.

"Don't keep coughing so, Kitty, for heaven's sake!  Have a
little compassion on my nerves.  You tear them to pieces."

"Kitty has no discretion in her coughs," said her father;
"she times them ill."

"I do not cough for my own amusement," replied Kitty fretfully.

"When is your next ball to be, Lizzy?"

"To-morrow fortnight."

"Aye, so it is," cried her mother, "and Mrs. Long does not come
back till the day before; so it will be impossible for her to
introduce him, for she will not know him herself."

"Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and
introduce Mr. Bingley to _her_."

"Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted
with him myself; how can you be so teazing?"

"I honour your circumspection.  A fortnight's acquaintance is
certainly very little.  One cannot know what a man really is by
the end of a fortnight.  But if we do not venture, somebody
else will; and after all, Mrs. Long and her nieces must stand
their chance; and therefore, as she will think it an act of
kindness, if you decline the office, I will take it on myself."

The girls stared at their father.  Mrs. Bennet said only,
"Nonsense, nonsense!"

"What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?" cried
he.  "Do you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress
that is laid on them, as nonsense?  I cannot quite agree with
you _there_.  What say you, Mary?  for you are a young lady of
deep reflection I know, and read great books, and make
extracts."

Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how.

"While Mary is adjusting her ideas," he continued, "let us
return to Mr. Bingley."

"I am sick of Mr. Bingley," cried his wife.

"I am sorry to hear _that_; but why did not you tell me so
before?  If I had known as much this morning, I certainly would
not have called on him.  It is very unlucky; but as I have
actually paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance
now."

The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished; that of
Mrs. Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though when the first
tumult of joy was over, she began to declare that it was what
she had expected all the while.

"How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet!  But I knew I
should persuade you at last.  I was sure you loved our girls
too well to neglect such an acquaintance.  Well, how pleased
I am!  and it is such a good joke, too, that you should have
gone this morning, and never said a word about it till now."

"Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you chuse," said
Mr. Bennet; and, as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with
the raptures of his wife.

"What an excellent father you have, girls," said she, when the
door was shut.  "I do not know how you will ever make him
amends for his kindness; or me either, for that matter.  At our
time of life, it is not so pleasant I can tell you, to be
making new acquaintance every day; but for your sakes, we would
do any thing.  Lydia, my love, though you _are_ the youngest,
I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next ball."

"Oh!" said Lydia stoutly, "I am not afraid; for though I _am_
the youngest, I'm the tallest."

The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he
would return Mr. Bennet's visit, and determining when they
should ask him to dinner.

                              __

<CHAPTER III (3)>

NOT all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her
five daughters, could ask on the subject was sufficient to draw
from her husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley.
They attacked him in various ways; with barefaced questions,
ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises; but he eluded the
skill of them all; and they were at last obliged to accept the
second-hand intelligence of their neighbour Lady Lucas.  Her
report was highly favourable.  Sir William had been delighted
with him.  He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely
agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next
assembly with a large party.  Nothing could be more delightful!
To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in
love; and very lively hopes of Mr. Bingley's heart were
entertained.

"If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at
Netherfield," said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, "and all the
others equally well married, I shall have nothing to wish for."

In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet's visit, and sat
about ten minutes with him in his library.  He had entertained
hopes of being admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of
whose beauty he had heard much; but he saw only the father.
The ladies were somewhat more fortunate, for they had the
advantage of ascertaining, from an upper window, that he wore a
blue coat and rode a black horse.

An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched; and
already had Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do
credit to her housekeeping, when an answer arrived which
deferred it all.  Mr. Bingley was obliged to be in town the
following day, and consequently unable to accept the honour of
their invitation, &c.  Mrs. Bennet was quite disconcerted.  She
could not imagine what business he could have in town so soon
after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that
he might be always flying about from one place to another, and
never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be.  Lady Lucas
quieted her fears a little by starting the idea of his being
gone to London only to get a large party for the ball; and a
report soon followed that Mr. Bingley was to bring twelve
ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly.  The girls
grieved over such a large number of ladies; but were comforted
the day before the ball by hearing that, instead of twelve, he
had brought only six with him from London, his five sisters and
a cousin.  And when the party entered the assembly room, it
consisted of only five altogether; Mr. Bingley, his two
sisters, the husband of the oldest, and another young man.

Mr. Bingley was good looking and gentlemanlike; he had a
pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners.  His
brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but his
friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his
fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien; and the
report which was in general circulation within five minutes
after his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year.  The
gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the
ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he
was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening,
till his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his
popularity; for he was discovered to be proud, to be above his
company, and above being pleased; and not all his large estate
in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most
forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be
compared with his friend.

Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the
principal people in the room; he was lively and unreserved,
danced every dance, was angry that the ball closed so early,
and talked of giving one himself at Netherfield.  Such amiable
qualities must speak for themselves.  What a contrast between
him and his friend!  Mr. Darcy danced only once with Mrs.
Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to
any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking
about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party.
His character was decided.  He was the proudest, most
disagreeable man in the world, and every body hoped that he
would never come there again.  Amongst the most violent against
him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of his general behaviour was
sharpened into particular resentment by his having slighted one
of her daughters.

Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of
gentlemen, to sit down for two dances; and during part of
that time, Mr. Darcy had been standing near enough for her
to overhear a conversation between him and Mr. Bingley, who
came from the dance for a few minutes to press his friend
to join it.

"Come, Darcy," said he, "I must have you dance.  I hate to see
you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner.  You had
much better dance."

"I certainly shall not.  You know how I detest it, unless I am
particularly acquainted with my partner.  At such an assembly
as this, it would be insupportable.  Your sisters are engaged,
and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be
a punishment to me to stand up with."

"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried Bingley, "for
a kingdom!  Upon my honour I never met with so many pleasant
girls in my life, as I have this evening; and there are several
of them, you see, uncommonly pretty."

"_You_ are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,"
said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

"Oh!  she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld!  But
there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who
is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable.  Do let me ask
my partner to introduce you."

"Which do you mean?" and turning round, he looked for a
moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his
own and coldly said, "She is tolerable; but not handsome
enough to tempt _me_; and I am in no humour at present to give
consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.
You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles,
for you are wasting your time with me."

Mr. Bingley followed his advice.  Mr. Darcy walked off; and
Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings towards him.
She told the story however with great spirit among her friends;
for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in
any thing ridiculous.

The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole
family.  Mrs. Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired
by the Netherfield party.  Mr. Bingley had danced with her
twice, and she had been distinguished by his sisters.  Jane was
as much gratified by this as her mother could be, though in a
quieter way.  Elizabeth felt Jane's pleasure.  Mary had heard
herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most accomplished girl
in the neighbourhood; and Catherine and Lydia had been
fortunate enough to be never without partners, which was all
that they had yet learnt to care for at a ball.  They returned
therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the village where they
lived, and of which they were the principal inhabitants.  They
found Mr. Bennet still up.  With a book, he was regardless of
time; and on the present occasion he had a good deal of
curiosity as to the event of an evening which had raised such
splendid expectations.  He had rather hoped that all his wife's
views on the stranger would be disappointed; but he soon found
that he had a very different story to hear.

"Oh!  my dear Mr. Bennet," as she entered the room, "we have
had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball.  I wish
you had been there.  Jane was so admired, nothing could be like
it.  Every body said how well she looked; and Mr. Bingley
thought her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice.  Only
think of _that_ my dear; he actually danced with her twice; and
she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second
time.  First of all, he asked Miss Lucas.  I was so vexed to
see him stand up with her; but, however, he did not admire her
at all: indeed, nobody can, you know; and he seemed quite
struck with Jane as she was going down the dance.  So, he
enquired who she was, and got introduced, and asked her for the
two next.  Then, the two third he danced with Miss King, and
the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane
again, and the two sixth with Lizzy, and the Boulanger -- "

"If he had had any compassion for _me_," cried her husband
impatiently, "he would not have danced half so much!  For God's
sake, say no more of his partners.  Oh!  that he had sprained
his ancle in the first dance!"

"Oh!  my dear," continued Mrs. Bennet, "I am quite delighted
with him.  He is so excessively handsome!  and his sisters are
charming women.  I never in my life saw any thing more elegant
than their dresses.  I dare say the lace upon Mrs. Hurst's
gown -- "

Here she was interrupted again.  Mr. Bennet protested against
any description of finery.  She was therefore obliged to seek
another branch of the subject, and related, with much
bitterness of spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking
rudeness of Mr. Darcy.

"But I can assure you," she added, "that Lizzy does not lose
much by not suiting _his_ fancy; for he is a most disagreeable,
horrid man, not at all worth pleasing.  So high and so
conceited that there was no enduring him!  He walked here, and
he walked there, fancying himself so very great!  Not handsome
enough to dance with!  I wish you had been there, my dear, to
have given him one of your set downs.  I quite detest the man."

                              __

<CHAPTER IV (4)>

WHEN Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been
cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her
sister how very much she admired him.

"He is just what a young man ought to be," said she, "sensible,
good humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! --
so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!"

"He is also handsome," replied Elizabeth, "which a young man
ought likewise to be, if he possibly can.  His character is
thereby complete."

"I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second
time.  I did not expect such a compliment."

"Did not you?  _I_ did for you.  But that is one great
difference between us.  Compliments always take _you_ by
surprise, and _me_ never.  What could be more natural than his
asking you again?  He could not help seeing that you were about
five times as pretty as every other women in the room.  No
thanks to his gallantry for that.  Well, he certainly is very
agreeable, and I give you leave to like him.  You have liked
many a stupider person."

"Dear Lizzy!"

"Oh!  you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in
general.  You never see a fault in any body.  All the world are
good and agreeable in your eyes.  I never heard you speak ill
of a human being in my life."

"I would wish not to be hasty in censuring any one; but I
always speak what I think."

"I know you do; and it is _that_ which makes the wonder.
With _your_ good sense, to be honestly blind to the follies
and nonsense of others!  Affectation of candour is common
enough; -- one meets it every where.  But to be candid without
ostentation or design -- to take the good of every body's
character and make it still better, and say nothing of the bad
-- belongs to you alone.  And so, you like this man's sisters
too, do you?  Their manners are not equal to his."

"Certainly not; at first.  But they are very pleasing women
when you converse with them.  Miss Bingley is to live with her
brother and keep his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall
not find a very charming neighbour in her."

Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced.  Their
behaviour at the assembly had not been calculated to please in
general; and with more quickness of observation and less
pliancy of temper than her sister, and with a judgment, too,
unassailed by any attention to herself, she was very little
disposed to approve them.  They were in fact very fine ladies,
not deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in the
power of being agreeable where they chose it; but proud and
conceited.  They were rather handsome, had been educated in one
of the first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of
twenty thousand pounds, were in the habit of spending more than
they ought, and of associating with people of rank; and were
therefore in every respect entitled to think well of
themselves, and meanly of others.  They were of a respectable
family in the north of England; a circumstance more deeply
impressed on their memories than that their brother's fortune
and their own had been acquired by trade.

Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly an
hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to
purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. -- Mr. Bingley
intended it likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county;
but as he was now provided with a good house and the liberty of
a manor, it was doubtful to many of those who best knew the
easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the
remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next
generation to purchase.

His sisters were very anxious for his having an estate of his
own; but though he was now established only as a tenant, Miss
Bingley was by no means unwilling to preside at his table, nor
was Mrs. Hurst, who had married a man of more fashion than
fortune, less disposed to consider his house as her home when
it suited her.  Mr. Bingley had not been of age two years, when
he was tempted by an accidental recommendation to look at
Netherfield House.  He did look at it and into it for half an
hour, was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms,
satisfied with what the owner said in its praise, and took it
immediately.

Between him and Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in
spite of a great opposition of character. -- Bingley was
endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, ductility of his
temper, though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to
his own, and though with his own he never appeared
dissatisfied.  On the strength of Darcy's regard Bingley had
the firmest reliance, and of his judgment the highest opinion.
In understanding, Darcy was the superior.  Bingley was by no
means deficient, but Darcy was clever.  He was at the same time
haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well
bred, were not inviting.  In that respect his friend had
greatly the advantage.  Bingley was sure of being liked
wherever he appeared; Darcy was continually giving offence.

The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was
sufficiently characteristic.  Bingley had never met with
pleasanter people or prettier girls in his life; every body had
been most kind and attentive to him, there had been no
formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted with all
the room; and as to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel
more beautiful.  Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection
of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for
none of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none
received either attention or pleasure.  Miss Bennet he
acknowledged to be pretty, but she smiled too much.

Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so -- but still they
admired her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet
girl, and one whom they should not object to know more of.
Miss Bennet was therefore established as a sweet girl, and
their brother felt authorised by such commendation to think of
her as he chose.

                              __

<CHAPTER V (5)>

WITHIN a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the
Bennets were particularly intimate.  Sir William Lucas had been
formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable
fortune and risen to the honour of knighthood by an address to
the King during his mayoralty.  The distinction had perhaps
been felt too strongly.  It had given him a disgust to his
business and to his residence in a small market town; and
quitting them both, he had removed with his family to a house
about a mile from Meryton, denominated from that period Lucas
Lodge, where he could think with pleasure of his own
importance, and, unshackled by business, occupy himself solely
in being civil to all the world.  For though elated by his
rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the contrary, he
was all attention to every body.  By nature inoffensive,
friendly and obliging, his presentation at St. James's had made
him courteous.

Lady Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not too clever to be
a valuable neighbour to Mrs. Bennet. -- They had several
children.  The eldest of them, a sensible, intelligent young
woman, about twenty-seven, was Elizabeth's intimate friend.

That the Miss Lucases and the Miss Bennets should meet to talk
over a ball was absolutely necessary; and the morning after the
assembly brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to
communicate.

"_You_ began the evening well, Charlotte," said Mrs. Bennet
with civil self-command to Miss Lucas.  "You were Mr.
Bingley's first choice."

"Yes; -- but he seemed to like his second better."

"Oh! -- you mean Jane, I suppose -- because he danced with her
twice.  To be sure that _did_ seem as if he admired her --
indeed I rather believe he _did_ -- I heard something about it
-- but I hardly know what -- something about Mr. Robinson."

"Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr.
Robinson; did not I mention it to you?  Mr. Robinson's asking
him how he liked our Meryton assemblies, and whether he did
not think there were a great many pretty women in the room,
and _which_ he thought the prettiest?  and his answering
immediately to the last question -- ``Oh!  the eldest Miss
Bennet beyond a doubt, there cannot be two opinions on that
point.''"

"Upon my word! -- Well, that was very decided indeed --
that does seem as if -- but, however, it may all come to
nothing, you know."

"_My_ overhearings were more to the purpose than _yours_,
Eliza," said Charlotte.  "Mr. Darcy is not so well worth
listening to as his friend, is he? -- Poor Eliza! -- to be
only just _tolerable_."

"I beg you would not put it into Lizzy's head to be vexed by
his ill-treatment; for he is such a disagreeable man that it
would be quite a misfortune to be liked by him.  Mrs. Long
told me last night that he sat close to her for half an hour
without once opening his lips."

"Are you quite sure, Ma'am? -- is not there a little mistake?"
said Jane. -- "I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her."

"Aye -- because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield,
and he could not help answering her; -- but she said he seemed
very angry at being spoke to."

"Miss Bingley told me," said Jane, "that he never speaks much
unless among his intimate acquaintance.  With _them_ he is
remarkably agreeable."

"I do not believe a word of it, my dear.  If he had been so
very agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long.  But I can
guess how it was; every body says that he is ate up with pride,
and I dare say he had heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not
keep a carriage, and had come to the ball in a hack chaise."

"I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long," said Miss Lucas,
"but I wish he had danced with Eliza."

"Another time, Lizzy," said her mother, "I would not dance with
_him_, if I were you."

"I believe, Ma'am, I may safely promise you _never_ to dance
with him."

"His pride," said Miss Lucas, "does not offend _me_ so much
as pride often does, because there is an excuse for it.  One
cannot wonder that so very fine a young man, with family,
fortune, every thing in his favour, should think highly of
himself.  If I may so express it, he has a _right_ to be
proud."

"That is very true," replied Elizabeth, "and I could easily
forgive _his_ pride, if he had not mortified _mine_."

"Pride," observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of
her reflections, "is a very common failing I believe.  By all
that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common
indeed, that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that
there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of
self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or
imaginary.  Vanity and pride are different things, though the
words are often used synonimously.  A person may be proud
without being vain.  Pride relates more to our opinion of
ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us."

"If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy," cried a young Lucas who came
with his sisters, "I should not care how proud I was.  I would
keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine every
day."

"Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought," said
Mrs. Bennet; "and if I were to see you at it, I should take
away your bottle directly."

The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare
that she would, and the argument ended only with the visit.

                              __

<CHAPTER VI (6)>

THE ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield.
The visit was returned in due form.  Miss Bennet's pleasing
manners grew on the good will 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
every body, 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 shew _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 leisure for falling in love
as much as she chuses."

"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 in company with him 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 been also 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 before-hand, it does not advance their felicity in the
least.  They always contrive 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 had
hardly a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was
endered 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 no where, 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 not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself
uncommonly well just now, when I was teazing Colonel Forster to
give us a ball at Meryton?"

"With great energy; -- but it is a subject which always makes a
lady energetic."

"You are severe on us."

"It will be _her_ turn soon to be teazed," 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 any body and every body! --
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 every body
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 own 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 societies."

"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 some thoughts 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 notion of doing a very
gallant thing, and called out to her,

"My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you 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 these 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 so serious about it, I shall consider the
matter as absolutely settled.  You will have a charming
mother-in-law, indeed, and of course she will be always 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.

                              __

<CHAPTER VII (7)>

MR. BENNET'S property consisted almost entirely in an estate of
two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters,
was entailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation;
and their mother's fortune, though ample for her situation in
life, could but ill supply the deficiency of his.  Her father
had been an attorney in Meryton, and had left her four thousand
pounds.

She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a
clerk to their father, and succeeded him in the business, and a
brother settled in London in a respectable line of trade.

The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most
convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually
tempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty
to their aunt, and to a milliner's shop just over the way.  The
two youngest of the family, Catherine and Lydia, were
particularly frequent in these attentions; their minds were
more vacant than their sisters', and when nothing better
offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning
hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and however
bare of news the country in general might be, they always
contrived to learn some from their aunt.  At present, indeed,
they were well supplied both with news and happiness by the
recent arrival of a militia regiment in the neighbourhood; it
was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was the head
quarters.

Their visits to Mrs. Philips were now productive of the most
interesting intelligence.  Every day added something to their
knowledge of the officers' names and connections.  Their
lodgings were not long a secret, and at length they began to
know the officers themselves.  Mr. Philips visited them all,
and this opened to his nieces a source of felicity unknown
before.  They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr.
Bingley's large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to
their mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the
regimentals of an ensign.

After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject,
Mr. Bennet coolly observed,

"From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you
must be two of the silliest girls in the country.  I have
suspected it some time, but I am now convinced."

Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with
perfect indifference, continued to express her admiration of
Captain Carter, and her hope of seeing him in the course of the
day, as he was going the next morning to London.

"I am astonished, my dear," said Mrs. Bennet, "that you should
be so ready to think your own children silly.  If I wished to
think slightingly of any body's children, it should not be of
my own, however."

"If my children are silly I must hope to be always sensible
of it."

"Yes -- but as it happens, they are all of them very clever."

"This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not
agree.  I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every
particular, but I must so far differ from you as to think our
two youngest daughters uncommonly foolish."

"My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the
sense of their father and mother. -- When they get to our age,
I dare say they will not think about officers any more than we
do.  I remember the time when I liked a red coat myself very
well -- and indeed, so I do still at my heart; and if a smart
young colonel, with five or six thousand a year, should want
one of my girls, I shall not say nay to him; and I thought
Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir
William's in his regimentals."

"Mama," cried Lydia, "my aunt says that Colonel Forster and
Captain Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson's as they did
when they first came; she sees them now very often standing in
Clarke's library."

Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the
footman with a note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield,
and the servant waited for an answer.  Mrs. Bennet's eyes
sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, while
her daughter read,

"Well, Jane, who is it from?  what is it about?  what does he
say?  Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love."

"It is from Miss Bingley," said Jane, and then read it aloud.

"My dear Friend,

IF you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa
and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest
of our lives, for a whole d