Chapter 11
WHEN the ladies removed after dinner Elizabeth ran up to her sister, and seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into the drawing-room, where she was welcomed by her two friends with many professions of pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable as they were during the hour which passed before the gentlemen appeared. Their powers of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their acquaintance with spirit.
When the ladies left after dinner, Elizabeth hurried upstairs to her sister. After making sure her sister was protected from the cold, Elizabeth accompanied her into the drawing room. Her sister’s two friends welcomed her with many expressions of pleasure. Elizabeth had never found them so pleasant as during the hour before the gentlemen joined them. They were skilled at conversation. They could describe a social event accurately, tell an amusing story, and make lively fun of people they knew.
But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object; Miss Bingley’s eyes were instantly turned towards Darcy, and she had something to say to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed himself directly to Miss Bennet with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst also made her a slight bow, and said he was “very glad;” but diffuseness and warmth remained for Bingley’s salutation. He was full of joy and attention. The first half hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she should suffer from the change of room; and she removed, at his desire, to the other side of the fireplace, that she might be farther from the door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to anyone else. Elizabeth, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with great delight.
But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the main focus of attention. Miss Bingley’s eyes turned instantly towards Darcy. She had something to say to him before he had taken more than a few steps. He went straight to Miss Bennet and politely congratulated her. Mr. Hurst also gave her a slight bow and said he was “very glad.” But Bingley’s greeting was far longer and warmer. He was full of joy and eager to attend to her. For the first half hour, he kept building up the fire so she would not suffer from changing rooms. At his request, she moved to the other side of the fireplace to be farther from the door. He then sat beside her and spoke to hardly anyone else. Elizabeth, busy with her needlework in the opposite corner, watched it all with great delight.
When tea was over Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law of the card-table—but in vain. She had obtained private intelligence that Mr. Darcy did not wish for cards, and Mr. Hurst soon found even his open petition rejected. She assured him that no one intended to play, and the silence of the whole party on the subject seemed to justify her. Mr. Hurst had, therefore, nothing to do but to stretch himself on one of the sofas and go to sleep. Darcy took up a book. Miss Bingley did the same; and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her bracelets and rings, joined now and then in her brother’s conversation with Miss Bennet.
After tea, Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law about playing cards, but without success. She had learned privately that Mr. Darcy did not want to play. Even when Mr. Hurst asked openly, she refused. She assured him that no one intended to play, and everyone’s silence on the subject seemed to support her claim. So Mr. Hurst had nothing to do but stretch out on one of the sofas and go to sleep. Darcy picked up a book. Miss Bingley did the same. Mrs. Hurst was mostly occupied with playing with her bracelets and rings. Now and then, she joined in her brother’s conversation with Miss Bennet.
Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Darcy’s progress through his book, as in reading her own; and she was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her question and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be amused with her own book, which she had only chosen because it was the second volume of his, she gave a great yawn and said, “How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare, after all, there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.”
Miss Bingley paid just as much attention to Mr. Darcy’s progress through his book as to reading her own. She was constantly asking him questions or looking at his page. But she could not draw him into conversation. He simply answered her questions and read on. At last, she was quite worn out from trying to entertain herself with her own book. She had chosen it only because it was the second volume of the book he was reading. She gave a great yawn and said, “How pleasant it is to spend an evening this way! I must say, after all, there is no pleasure like reading! How much sooner you tire of anything else than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I do not have an excellent library.”
No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her book, and cast her eyes round the room in quest of some amusement; when, hearing her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly towards him and said,—
No one replied. She yawned again, tossed her book aside, and looked around the room for something to entertain her. When she heard her brother mention a ball to Miss Bennet, she suddenly turned toward him and said:
“By the bye Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure.”
“By the way, Charles, are you really serious about holding a dance at Netherfield? Before you decide, I would advise you to ask the people here what they want. Unless I’m much mistaken, some among us would find a ball more of a punishment than a pleasure.”
“If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins; but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing, and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough I shall send round my cards.”
“If you mean Darcy,” her brother exclaimed, “he can go to bed before the ball begins, if he chooses. But the ball is definitely happening. As soon as Nicholls has made enough white soup, I’ll send out my invitations.”
“I should like balls infinitely better,” she replied, “if they were carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing made the order of the day.”
“I would enjoy balls far more,” she replied, “if they were organized differently. But the usual way these gatherings are run is unbearably tedious. Surely it would make much more sense if conversation, rather than dancing, were the main activity.”
“Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say; but it would not be near so much like a ball.”
“Much more sensible, my dear Caroline, I suppose. But it wouldn’t be nearly as much like a ball.”
Miss Bingley made no answer, and soon afterwards got up and walked about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious. In the desperation of her feelings, she resolved on one effort more; and, turning to Elizabeth, said,—
Miss Bingley did not answer. Soon afterward, she got up and walked around the room. She had an elegant figure and walked gracefully. But Darcy, whom she was doing all this to impress, remained firmly absorbed in his reading. In desperation, she decided to make one more effort. She turned to Elizabeth and said:
“Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”
“Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to join me for a walk around the room. I assure you, walking is very refreshing after sitting in the same position for so long.”
Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss Bingley succeeded no less in the real object of her civility: Mr. Darcy looked up. He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as Elizabeth herself could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He was directly invited to join their party, but he declined it, observing that he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would interfere. What could he mean? She was dying to know what could be his meaning—and asked Elizabeth whether she could at all understand him.
Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed immediately. Miss Bingley was just as successful in achieving the true purpose of her politeness: Mr. Darcy looked up. He was as aware as Elizabeth of how unusual Miss Bingley’s attention to her was. Without realizing it, he closed his book. He was immediately invited to join them, but declined. He said he could imagine only two reasons for their walking up and down the room together. His joining them would interfere with either purpose. What could he mean? Miss Bingley was dying to know his meaning and asked Elizabeth whether she could understand him at all.
“Not at all,” was her answer; “but, depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it.”
“Not at all,” she answered. “But you can be sure he means to be hard on us. And the surest way to disappoint him is to ask nothing about it.”
Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in anything, and persevered, therefore, in requiring an explanation of his two motives.
But Miss Bingley could not disappoint Mr. Darcy in anything. So she kept insisting that he explain his two motives.
“I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,” said he, as soon as she allowed him to speak. “You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking: if the first, I should be completely in your way; and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire.”
“I have no objection at all to explaining them,” he said, as soon as she let him speak. “You’ve chosen to spend the evening walking for one of two reasons. Either you trust each other with your secrets and have private matters to discuss. Or you know your figures look their best when you walk. If it’s the first, I would be completely in your way. If it’s the second, I can admire you much better sitting here by the fire.”
“Oh, shocking!” cried Miss Bingley. “I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?”
“Oh, how shocking!” exclaimed Miss Bingley. “I've never heard anything so awful. How should we punish him for saying such a thing?”
“Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,” said Elizabeth. “We can all plague and punish one another. Tease him—laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”
“Nothing could be easier, if you want to,” said Elizabeth. “We can all annoy and punish one another. Tease him. Laugh at him. Since you know him so well, you must know how to do it.”
“But upon my honour I do not. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me that. Tease calmness of temper and presence of mind! No, no; I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. Darcy may hug himself.”
“But I swear I do not. I assure you that knowing him well has not yet taught me that. Tease him about his calm temper and ability to think clearly! No, no, I feel he can defy us there. As for laughter, let’s not make fools of ourselves, please, by trying to laugh without anything to laugh at. Mr. Darcy may congratulate himself.”
“Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!” cried Elizabeth. “That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintance. I dearly love a laugh.”
“Mr. Darcy cannot be laughed at!” cried Elizabeth. “That is a rare advantage, and I hope it stays rare. For it would be a great loss to me to know many people like that. I do love a good laugh.”
“Miss Bingley,” said he, “has given me credit for more than can be. The wisest and best of men,—nay, the wisest and best of their actions,—may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke.”
“Miss Bingley,” he said, “has given me more credit than is possible. Even the wisest and best men may be made to look ridiculous by someone whose main aim in life is a joke. In fact, even their wisest and best actions may be made to look ridiculous by such a person.”
“Certainly,” replied Elizabeth, “there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without.”
“Certainly,” Elizabeth replied, “there are people like that, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never make fun of anything wise or good. Foolishness and nonsense, whims and contradictions do amuse me, I admit. And I laugh at them whenever I can. But I suppose you have none of those faults.”
“Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule.”
“Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But I have spent my life trying to avoid the weaknesses that often make intelligent people look ridiculous.”
“Such as vanity and pride.”
“Like vanity and pride.”
“Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind—pride will be always under good regulation.”
“Yes, vanity is certainly a weakness. But when someone truly has a superior mind, their pride will always be kept under control.”
Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.
Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.
“Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume,” said Miss Bingley; “and pray what is the result?”
“I assume you’ve finished studying Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bingley. “And what, may I ask, have you concluded?”
“I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise.”
“I’m completely convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no flaws. He openly admits it himself.”
“No,” said Darcy, “I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding; certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offences against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost for ever.”
“No,” said Darcy, “I have made no such claim. I have plenty of faults, but I hope poor judgment is not one of them. I cannot say as much for my temper. I believe I am too unwilling to give way, certainly too unwilling for others’ convenience. I cannot forget other people’s foolishness and wrongdoing as quickly as I ought, nor their offenses against me. My feelings do not shift with every attempt to influence them. Perhaps I could be called resentful. Once I lose my good opinion of someone, it is lost forever.”
“That is a failing, indeed!” cried Elizabeth. “Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me.”
“That really is a fault!” cried Elizabeth. “Never letting go of resentment is a flaw in someone’s character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me.”
“There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”
“I believe everyone has a natural tendency toward some particular fault. Even the best education cannot overcome that flaw.”
“And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.”
“And your flaw is a tendency to hate everybody.”
“And yours,” he replied, with a smile, “is wilfully to misunderstand them.”
“And yours,” he replied with a smile, “is to misunderstand them on purpose.”
“Do let us have a little music,” cried Miss Bingley, tired of a conversation in which she had no share. “Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst.”
“Let’s have some music,” exclaimed Miss Bingley, tired of a conversation she had no part in. “Louisa, you won’t mind if I wake Mr. Hurst.”
Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was opened; and Darcy, after a few moments’ recollection, was not sorry for it. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.
Her sister did not object at all, and the piano was opened. After a few moments of reflection, Darcy was not sorry the piano had been opened. He began to sense the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.