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goes out with Forster, leaving Elizabeth alone, still seated. Lydia and Denny approach Elizabeth.]

Lydia.

I think we are being treated abominably ill, Lizzy! It seems that Mr. Wickham has gone off on business somewhere, so he will not be here at all. [Lydia looks off toward the ball-room.]

Denny.

[Aside to Elizabeth significantly.] I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now if he had not wished to avoid a certain gentleman.

Lydia.

[Suddenly.] Why, Mr. Denny—I do believe the reel is half over—I dearly love a reel! We shall miss it, altogether. Come! [She drags Denny off.]

Elizabeth.

[Alone.] Well! Well! The world is surely upside down. Charlotte and—Collins! What a match!

Darcy.

[Approaching from the ball-room.] Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?

[Elizabeth makes no answer.]

Do not you enjoy the reel, Miss Bennet?

Elizabeth.

[Looking up.] Oh, I heard you before, but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say—"Yes," that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing that kind of scheme. I have therefore made up my mind to tell you that I do not want to dance a reel at all; and now despise me, if you dare!

Darcy.

[Smiling.] I do not dare.

[Miss Bingley enters from the ball-room with an officer. They talk together.]

Colonel Forster.

[Entering from the ball-room, and looking about him, sees Elizabeth and comes to her.] May I have the honour, Miss Bennet?

Elizabeth.

I do not dance the reel, Colonel Forster.

Colonel Forster.

Oh, the reel is over. This is our dance.

Elizabeth.

Oh!

[She goes off with Colonel Forster. Darcy remains where Elizabeth leaves him and watches her till she disappears into the ball-room. The officer bows and leaves Miss Bingley.]

Miss Bingley.

[Approaching Darcy.] I can guess the subject of your reverie.

Darcy.

I should imagine not.

Miss Bingley.

You are considering how insufferable it would be to pass many evenings in such society. 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!

Darcy.

Your conjecture is totally wrong. I assure you, my mind was more agreeably engaged. I was meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.

Miss Bingley.

[Looking at him very meaningly and sweetly, speaks with coquetry.] Indeed! And will not you tell me what lady has the credit of inspiring such reflections?

Darcy.

[With great intrepidity.] Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Miss Bingley.

[Taken aback.] Miss Elizabeth Bennet! I am all astonishment! How long has she been such a favourite? Pray when am I to wish you joy?

Darcy.

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.

Miss Bingley.

Nay, if you are so serious about it I shall consider the matter as absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law! Of course she will always be at Pemberley with you. Perhaps you might give her a few hints as to the advantage of holding her tongue.

Darcy.

Thank you. Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?

Miss Bingley.

Oh, yes! Let the portrait of your uncle, the attorney, be placed next to your great uncle, the Judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth's picture, you must not attempt to have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes!

Darcy.

It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression; but their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied.

Miss Bingley.

[Sarcastically.] Oh, I fear not—[Elizabeth and Colonel Forster, with others, enter from the ball-roomMrs. Bennet with Lady Lucas from the drawing-room.] Here comes the fair one—[Seeing Mrs. Bennet.]—and mamma-in-law as well. I will not intrude on the family party.

[She goes off laughing and mingles with the guests. Colonel Forster bows and leaves Elizabeth with her mother. Bingley enters with Jane from the drawing-room. He sees Darcy, who is standing where Miss Bingley left him, and comes to him.

Bingley.

I thought this next dance was the one you liked so much, Darcy. Let me find you a partner.

Darcy.

[Starting, as if from a reverie..] So it is. Thank you—I have a partner.

[He goes to Elizabeth, bows, and they go into the ball-room together. Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Long follow them.]

Bingley.

[Looking after Darcy with a smile, turns to Jane.] You must be tired, Miss Bennet. I propose that we sit quietly through this dance. Do you agree?

Jane.

Yes, indeed. [She sits on the bench.] It will be very pleasant. [Looking about her.] How very prettily you have arranged all the rooms, Mr. Bingley.

Bingley.

I am so glad you think so. I feared they were rather inconvenient for so large a party.

Jane.

Oh, I find them delightful!

Bingley.

You are always charitable, Miss Bennet. It seems to me you always manage to see the best side of everything. I never knew you to say an ill word about a person or a place.

Jane.

[Smiling.] Oh, I fear that is not quite exact. I only try to see things in their best light, perhaps.

Bingley.

That is just it. The rest of us rarely try to see things in that way. So you see I have proved my case. You are too amiable.

Jane.

Not for to-night, Mr. Bingley. Everybody is of one mind to-night. There is but one point of view—you are giving nothing but pleasure.

Bingley.

[Soberly.] I wish it were so—but—— [With impulsive earnestness.] Dear Miss Bennet, I wish to tell you—I must tell you——

[He is interrupted by the people coming in again from the dance. Darcy and Elizabeth enter with Sir William Lucas and others. Bingley and Jane rise from their seats and walk slowly toward the back of the room. Darcy escorts Elizabeth to a seat and stands by her. They are both silent for a moment.]

Elizabeth.

It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the rooms, or the number of couples.

Darcy.

[Smiling.] I assure you I will say whatever you wish.

Elizabeth.

Very well, that reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones.

Darcy.

Do you talk by rule then?

Elizabeth.

Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know,—and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.

Darcy.

Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?

Elizabeth.

[Archly.] Both, for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds; we are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room and be handed down to posterity with all the éclat of a proverb.

Darcy.

This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure. How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say. You think it a faithful portrait, undoubtedly.

Elizabeth.

I shall not decide on my own performance. [There is a short silence; then, as if with an effort, Elizabeth speaks.] I am surprised not to see Mr. Wickham here to-night. I find that he is a great favourite with the officers. He has made many friends among them.

Darcy.

[With great hauteur.] Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may insure his making friends; whether he may be equally capable of retaining them is less certain.

Elizabeth.

[Excitedly.] He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship, and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life.

[They are both silent.]

Sir William Lucas.

[Coming up to them all urbanity and smiles.] What a charming amusement for young people this dancing is, Mr. Darcy! I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies.

Darcy.

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.

[Smiling.] Do you often dance at St. James?

Darcy.

Never, sir.

Sir William.

You have a house in town, I conclude.

[Mr. Darcy bows, but does not speak.]

Sir William.

I had once some thoughts of fixing in town myself: but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas.

[Mr. Darcy bows in silence againElizabeth is amused.]

Sir William.

But I must not further interrupt you, sir! I only wish to tell you once more how highly gratified I have been by your superior dancing; allow me also to say that your fair partner does not disgrace you. It is a great pleasure to see you together. I must hope to—to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss Eliza, [Glancing at Bingley and Jane, who are talking earnestly together at the back of the scene.] shall take place. What congratulations will then flow in: but let me not interrupt you—you will not thank me, Mr. Darcy, for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me!

Darcy.

[Murmurs to himself.] So! [Looking earnestly at Bingley and Jane, he seems much impressed by what Sir William has said. Elizabeth notices this. Recovering himself, Darcy turns to her again.] Sir William's interruption has made me forget what we were talking of.

Elizabeth.

I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have interrupted any two people who had less to say for themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success, and what we are to talk of next, I cannot imagine.

Darcy.

[Smiling.] What think you of books?

Elizabeth.

Books? Oh no: I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings.

Darcy.

I am sorry you think so, but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions of them.

Elizabeth.

No, I cannot talk of books at a ball—my head is always full of something else.

Darcy.

The present always occupies you in such scenes, does it?

Elizabeth.

[In an absent manner.] Yes, always. [Suddenly.] I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave; that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created?

Darcy.

[Firmly.] I am.

Elizabeth.

And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?

Darcy.

I hope not.

Elizabeth.

It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first.

Darcy.

May I ask to what these questions lead?

Elizabeth.

Merely to the illustration of your character. I am trying to make it out.

Darcy.

And what is your success?

Elizabeth.

[Shaking her head.] I do not get on at

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