Chapter 54

AS soon as they were gone, Elizabeth walked out to recover her spirits; or, in other words, to dwell without interruption on those subjects which must deaden them more. Mr. Darcy’s behaviour astonished and vexed her.

As soon as they left, Elizabeth went for a walk to lift her spirits. Or, in other words, to think uninterrupted about the very things that were sure to lower her spirits further. Mr. Darcy’s behavior astonished and annoyed her.

“Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent,” said she, “did he come at all?”

“If he only came to be quiet, serious, and uninterested,” she said, “why did he come at all?”

She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure.

She could find no way to settle it that made her happy.

“He could be still amiable, still pleasing to my uncle and aunt, when he was in town; and why not to me? If he fears me, why come hither? If he no longer cares for me, why silent? Teasing, teasing man! I will think no more about him.”

“He could still be kind and pleasant to my uncle and aunt when he was in town. So why not to me? If he’s afraid of me, why come here? If he no longer cares for me, why stay silent? Infuriating, infuriating man! I won’t think about him anymore.”

Her resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept by the approach of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful look which showed her better satisfied with their visitors than Elizabeth.

Her sister’s arrival briefly kept her true to her resolve without any effort on her part. Her sister joined her with a cheerful look, clearly more pleased with their visitors than Elizabeth was.

“Now,” said she, “that this first meeting is over, I feel perfectly easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be embarrassed again by his coming. I am glad he dines here on Tuesday. It will then be publicly seen, that on both sides we meet only as common and indifferent acquaintance.”

“Now,” she said, “that our first meeting is over, I feel completely at ease. I know my own strength, and his visits will never embarrass me again. I’m glad he’s coming to dinner here on Tuesday. Everyone will then see that we meet as ordinary acquaintances, with no feelings for each other.”

“Yes, very indifferent, indeed,” said Elizabeth, laughingly. “Oh, Jane! take care.”

“Yes, very indifferent indeed,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “Oh, Jane! Be careful.”

“My dear Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak as to be in danger now.”

“My dear Lizzy, you can’t think I’m so weak that I’d be in danger now.”

“I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with you as ever.”

“I think you're in serious danger of making him fall as deeply in love with you as before.”

They did not see the gentlemen again till Tuesday; and Mrs. Bennet, in the meanwhile, was giving way to all the happy schemes which the good-humour and common politeness of Bingley, in half an hour’s visit, had revived.

They did not see the gentlemen again until Tuesday. Meanwhile, Mrs. Bennet gave herself over to all her happy plans again. Bingley’s good spirits and ordinary politeness during his half-hour visit had revived those plans.

On Tuesday there was a large party assembled at Longbourn; and the two who were most anxiously expected, to the credit of their punctuality as sportsmen, were in very good time. When they repaired to the dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to see whether Bingley would take the place which, in all their former parties, had belonged to him, by her sister. Her prudent mother, occupied by the same ideas, forbore to invite him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he seemed to hesitate; but Jane happened to look round, and happened to smile: it was decided. He placed himself by her.

On Tuesday, a large party gathered at Longbourn. The two most eagerly awaited guests arrived in very good time, a credit to their punctuality as sportsmen. When everyone went into the dining room, Elizabeth watched eagerly to see where Bingley would sit. At all their previous parties, his place had been beside her sister. Her cautious mother had the same thought, so she avoided inviting him to sit beside her. As Bingley entered the room, he seemed to hesitate. But Jane happened to look around, and happened to smile. That settled the matter. He sat beside her.

Elizabeth, with a triumphant sensation, looked towards his friend. He bore it with noble indifference; and she would have imagined that Bingley had received his sanction to be happy, had she not seen his eyes likewise turned towards Mr. Darcy, with an expression of half-laughing alarm.

Feeling triumphant, Elizabeth looked towards his friend. He took it with dignified indifference. She would have thought he had given Bingley permission to be happy. But she saw Bingley looking towards Mr. Darcy too, with an expression that mixed amusement and alarm.

His behaviour to her sister was such during dinnertime as showed an admiration of her, which, though more guarded than formerly, persuaded Elizabeth, that, if left wholly to himself, Jane’s happiness, and his own, would be speedily secured. Though she dared not depend upon the consequence, she yet received pleasure from observing his behaviour. It gave her all the animation that her spirits could boast; for she was in no cheerful humour. Mr. Darcy was almost as far from her as the table could divide them. He was on one side of her mother. She knew how little such a situation would give pleasure to either, or make either appear to advantage. She was not near enough to hear any of their discourse; but she could see how seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal and cold was their manner whenever they did. Her mother’s ungraciousness made the sense of what they owed him more painful to Elizabeth’s mind; and she would, at times, have given anything to be privileged to tell him, that his kindness was neither unknown nor unfelt by the whole of the family.

His behaviour toward her sister during dinner showed his admiration for her, though he was more guarded than before. Elizabeth felt sure that, if left entirely to himself, he would soon secure Jane’s happiness and his own. Though she dared not count on that outcome, she still took pleasure in watching his behaviour. Watching him lifted her spirits as much as anything could, for she was far from cheerful. Mr. Darcy sat almost as far from her as the table allowed. He was beside her mother. Elizabeth knew that neither would enjoy sitting together, nor would either make a good impression in those circumstances. She was too far away to hear their conversation. But she could see how rarely they spoke, and how formal and cold they were whenever they did. Her mother’s rudeness made Elizabeth feel even more painfully aware of how much her family owed him. At times, she would have given anything for the chance to tell him something. Not everyone in the family was unaware of his kindness or failed to appreciate it.

She was in hopes that the evening would afford some opportunity of bringing them together; that the whole of the visit would not pass away without enabling them to enter into something more of conversation, than the mere ceremonious salutation attending his entrance. Anxious and uneasy, the period which passed in the drawing-room before the gentlemen came, was wearisome and dull to a degree that almost made her uncivil. She looked forward to their entrance as the point on which all her chance of pleasure for the evening must depend.

She hoped the evening would offer some chance to bring them together. She hoped the visit would not end without their having more conversation than the formal greetings exchanged when he arrived. Anxious and uneasy, she found the wait in the drawing room before the gentlemen arrived painfully dull and tiring. It almost made her rude. She looked forward to their arrival, feeling that all her chances of enjoying the evening depended on it.

“If he does not come to me, then,” said she, “I shall give him up for ever.”

“If he doesn’t come to me then,” she said, “I’ll give up on him forever.”

The gentlemen came; and she thought he looked as if he would have answered her hopes; but, alas! the ladies had crowded round the table, where Miss Bennet was making tea, and Elizabeth pouring out the coffee, in so close a confederacy, that there was not a single vacancy near her which would admit of a chair. And on the gentlemen’s approaching, one of the girls moved closer to her than ever, and said, in a whisper,—

The gentlemen arrived, and she thought he looked as if he would fulfill her hopes. But, alas! The ladies had crowded around the table, where Miss Bennet was making tea and Elizabeth was pouring coffee. They seemed to have joined forces, leaving no space near her for even a single chair. And as the gentlemen approached, one of the girls moved even closer to her and whispered:

“The men shan’t come and part us, I am determined. We want none of them; do we?”

“The men won’t come and split us up. I’m determined to stop them. We don’t want any of them, do we?”

Darcy had walked away to another part of the room. She followed him with her eyes, envied everyone to whom he spoke, had scarcely patience enough to help anybody to coffee, and then was enraged against herself for being so silly!

Darcy had walked away to another part of the room. She watched him, envying everyone he spoke to. She barely had the patience to serve anyone coffee. Then she was furious with herself for being so silly!

“A man who has once been refused! How could I ever be foolish enough to expect a renewal of his love? Is there one among the sex who would not protest against such a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman? There is no indignity so abhorrent to their feelings.”

“A man who has already been rejected! How could I ever be foolish enough to expect him to love me again? Is there any man who wouldn't object to the weakness of proposing to the same woman twice? No humiliation is more unbearable to men.”

She was a little revived, however, by his bringing back his coffee-cup himself; and she seized the opportunity of saying,—

However, she cheered up a little when he brought back his coffee cup himself. And she took the opportunity to say:

“Is your sister at Pemberley still?”

“Is your sister still at Pemberley?”

“Yes; she will remain there till Christmas.”

“Yes, she’ll stay there until Christmas.”

“And quite alone? Have all her friends left her?”

“And all alone? Have all her friends left her?”

“Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others have been gone on to Scarborough these three weeks.”

“Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others left for Scarborough three weeks ago.”

She could think of nothing more to say; but if he wished to converse with her, he might have better success. He stood by her, however, for some minutes, in silence; and, at last, on the young lady’s whispering to Elizabeth again, he walked away.

She could think of nothing more to say. But if he wanted to talk to her, he might have better luck. Still, he stood beside her in silence for several minutes. Finally, when the young lady whispered to Elizabeth again, he walked away.

When the tea things were removed, and the card tables placed, the ladies all rose; and Elizabeth was then hoping to be soon joined by him, when all her views were overthrown, by seeing him fall a victim to her mother’s rapacity for whist players, and in a few moments after seated with the rest of the party. She now lost every expectation of pleasure. They were confined for the evening at different tables; and she had nothing to hope, but that his eyes were so often turned towards her side of the room, as to make him play as unsuccessfully as herself.

Once the tea things were cleared away and the card tables set up, all the ladies rose. Elizabeth hoped he would soon join her, but her mother’s greedy search for whist players ruined all her plans. Within moments, he was seated with the other players. She now lost all hope of enjoying herself. They were stuck at separate tables for the evening. Her only hope was that he would look toward her side of the room so often that he would play as badly as she did.

Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the two Netherfield gentlemen to supper; but their carriage was, unluckily, ordered before any of the others, and she had no opportunity of detaining them.

Mrs. Bennet had planned to keep the two Netherfield gentlemen for supper. But unfortunately, their carriage was called for before any of the others. So she had no chance to persuade them to stay.

“Well, girls,” said she, as soon as they were left to themselves, “what say you to the day? I think everything has passed off uncommonly well, I assure you. The dinner was as well dressed as any I ever saw. The venison was roasted to a turn—and everybody said, they never saw so fat a haunch. The soup was fifty times better than what we had at the Lucases’ last week; and even Mr. Darcy acknowledged that the partridges were remarkably well done; and I suppose he has two or three French cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look in greater beauty. Mrs. Long said so too, for I asked her whether you did not. And what do you think she said besides? ‘Ah! Mrs. Bennet, we shall have her at Netherfield at last!’ She did, indeed. I do think Mrs. Long is as good a creature as ever lived—and her nieces are very pretty behaved girls, and not at all handsome: I like them prodigiously.”

“Well, girls,” she said, as soon as they were alone, “what did you think of the day? I assure you, I think everything went unusually well. The dinner was as well prepared as any I’ve ever seen. The venison was roasted perfectly, and everyone said they had never seen such a fat haunch. The soup was fifty times better than the soup we had at the Lucases’ last week. Even Mr. Darcy admitted that the partridges were remarkably well cooked. And I suppose he has at least two or three French cooks. And, my dear Jane, I’ve never seen you look more beautiful. Mrs. Long said so too, because I asked her whether she agreed. And what do you think she said besides? ‘Ah! Mrs. Bennet, we’ll have her at Netherfield at last!’ She really did. I do think Mrs. Long is as good a person as ever lived. And her nieces are very well-behaved girls, and not at all pretty. I like them enormously.”

Mrs. Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits: she had seen enough of Bingley’s behaviour to Jane to be convinced that she would get him at last; and her expectations of advantage to her family, when in a happy humour, were so far beyond reason, that she was quite disappointed at not seeing him there again the next day, to make his proposals.

In short, Mrs. Bennet was in very high spirits. Bingley’s behavior toward Jane had convinced her that Jane would win him in the end. And when Mrs. Bennet was in a good mood, her hopes for her family’s future advantages went far beyond reason. So she was quite disappointed when Bingley did not return the very next day to propose to Jane.

“It has been a very agreeable day,” said Miss Bennet to Elizabeth. “The party seemed so well selected, so suitable one with the other. I hope we may often meet again.”

“It’s been a lovely day,” said Miss Bennet to Elizabeth. “The guests seemed so well chosen, so well suited to one another. I hope we can all meet often.”

Elizabeth smiled.

Elizabeth smiled.

“Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not suspect me. It mortifies me. I assure you that I have now learnt to enjoy his conversation as an agreeable and sensible young man without having a wish beyond it. I am perfectly satisfied, from what his manners now are, that he never had any design of engaging my affection. It is only that he is blessed with greater sweetness of address, and a stronger desire of generally pleasing, than any other man.”

“Lizzy, you must not do that. You must not suspect me of wanting more. It embarrasses me deeply. I assure you, I have now learned to enjoy his conversation because he is pleasant and sensible. I have no wish for anything more. From the way he behaves now, I am completely convinced he never intended to win my affection. He simply speaks more kindly and has a stronger desire to please everyone than any other man.”

“You are very cruel,” said her sister, “you will not let me smile, and are provoking me to it every moment.”

“You’re very cruel,” her sister said. “You won’t let me smile, but you keep making me want to smile every moment.”

“How hard it is in some cases to be believed! And how impossible in others! But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I acknowledge?”

“How hard it is to be believed in some cases! And how impossible in others! But why do you want to convince me that I feel more than I admit?”

“That is a question which I hardly know how to answer. We all love to instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth knowing. Forgive me; and if you persist in indifference, do not make me your confidante.”

“That’s a question I hardly know how to answer. We all love to teach, though we can only teach things that aren’t worth knowing. Forgive me. And if you insist on staying indifferent, don’t make me the person you confide in.”