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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.

``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.'' `

``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

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 fo

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.

``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

"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 mo

Chapter 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 oftheir 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.

Mr. Bingley was good looking and gentlmanlike; 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
gentleman 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 manne

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!"

Chapter 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
an 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."

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.

Miss Bennet was therefore established as a
sweet girl, and their brother felt authorised by such
commendation to think of her as he chose.

"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
toterable."
"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.

"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 ofus 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
ofourselves, 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.

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."

"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 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."

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?"

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.

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 anybody'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."

"Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to Meryton; and the Hursts have no horses to theirs."

"I had much rather go in the coach."

"But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennett, are not they?"

"They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them."

"But if you have got them to-day," said Elizabeth, "my mother's purpose will be answered."

She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses were engaged: Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were answered: Jane had not been gone long before it rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission: Jane certainly could not come back.

"This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!" said Mrs. Bennet more than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought the following note for Elizabeth --
"My dearest Lizzy, -- I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning home till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones -- therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me -- and, excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the matter with me. -- Yours, etc."

In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one of the officers' wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.

She was shewn into the breakfast-parlour, where all but Jane were assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise. That she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt for it. She was received, however, very politely by them; and in their brother's manners there was something better than politeness; there was good-humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast.

Her enquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not well enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience from expressing in her note how much she longed for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal, however, to much conversation, and when Miss Bingley left them together, could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude for the extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended her.

Chapter 8

At five o'clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half-past six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. To the civil enquiries which then poured in, and amongst which she had the pleasure of distinguishing the much superior solicitude of Mr. Bingley's, she could not make a very favourable answer. Jane was by no means better. The sisters, on hearing this, repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill themselves; and then thought no more of the matter; and their indifference towards Jane when not immediately before them, restored Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all her original dislike.

Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his attentions to herself most pleasing, and they prevented her feeling herself so much an intruder as she believed she was considered by the others. She had very little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for Mr. Hurst, by whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to eat, drink, and play at cards; who, when he found her prefer a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her.

When dinner was over she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no style, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and added --

"She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild."

"I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet; she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it."

"I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton."

"Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside."

"That is capital," added her sister, and they both laughed heartily.

"If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside," cried Bingley, "it would not make them one jot less agreeable."

"But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world," replied Darcy.

To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters gave it their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the expense of their dear friend's vulgar relations.

With a renewal of tenderness, however, they repaired to her room on leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till summoned to coffee. She was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not quit her at all, till late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her asleep, and when it appeared to her rather right than pleasant that she should go down stairs herself. On entering the drawing-room she found the whole party at loo, and was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them to be playing high, she declined it, and making her sister the excuse, said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay below, with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment.

"Do you prefer reading to cards?" said he; "that is rather singular."

"But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire."

"With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it."

"I am talking of possibilities, Charles."

"Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation."

Elizabeth was so much caught by what passed as to leave her very little attention for her book; and soon laying it wholly aside, she drew near the card-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest sister, to observe the game.

"Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?" said Miss Bingley; "will she be as tall as I am?"

"I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or rather taller."

"How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite."

"It is amazing to me," said Bingley, "how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are."

"All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?"

"Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished."

Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room.

"Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, "is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art."

"Undoubtedly," replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, "there is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable."