“Have women been given ample chances to strive to their utmost?” Elizabeth replied. “To enlarge their abilities? Would a man listen to a woman even if she had much to say, and that of good sense?”
“At first, it might be treated more harshly.” Darcy shrugged. “But most great ideas face fierce opposition. A willingness to fight is required for any greatness.”
“And you say women are unwilling to fight? — In the matters of morality, in distinguishing the fanciful from the real, in the most essential matters, a woman is the equal of a man. Here I can martial every example of good sense in a woman which I see in my life and set against it every foolishness we have observed in a man. Thus, the case is proven.”
The way Darcy sat, his tone, his alertness. He enjoyed arguing. She felt a delight in discourse that she could not remember since Papa had died. Elizabeth’s loneliness became a little less.
Their eyes met again, and Elizabeth began to fear she was thinking too much of Mr. Darcy. She turned to his daughter, “Emily, what do you think?”
The girl in reply showed Elizabeth a heart stopping grin. She was an adorable fairy. Mr. Darcy was fortunate to have such a child. The little girl put down her apple slice on the wooden table and tried to climb off the chair she had sat on.
“She agrees with you,” Darcy replied as he held out his hand to help Emily down. The girl began to run around. “And she demanded yesterday that I let her wear blue stockings.”
Elizabeth giggled.
“The male and the female operate in different spheres,” Darcy said slowly. “And comparison is difficult. There are female writers who have a formidable reputation. The deficiency of women in the sciences may be caused by convention, not nature. The case could not be proven for either side — I tend strongly to think it is a matter of nature. But maybe…”
Darcy frowned.
“Then I shall cling to the view that it is purely a matter of education.”
“Just when I began to doubt that myself.”
“Oh, I can argue for the side of nature,” Elizabeth replied quickly, “if you require it of me.”
“Do you enjoy being contrary?” Darcy’s smile was appreciative.
“Exceedingly.” Their eyes met, and Elizabeth felt a thing in her stomach once more.
“Thatmatches the portrait I have painted of your character.” Their eyes held.
“Am I so transparent?” Elizabeth’s heart was beating oddly.
Darcy at last broke the gaze. He looked aside at his child. “If you wish to be more difficult to see through, you must occasionally do what is expected. If you only do the opposite of what is ordinary, you shall become predictable.”
Elizabeth felt flushed and her color was high. “You would have liked my father. Your sense of humour is similar to what his was.”
“That is a high compliment from you.” Darcy’s eyes met hers again.
A sound from where Emily walked in circles pulled his eyes away from hers.
“He meant a great deal to you,” Darcy added.
“He did.”
The two of them were quiet.
The conversation must be made lighter. Elizabeth asked, “Do you insist she eat with your guests whenever you dine with friends?”
Before Darcy replied, Emily tripped over a clear and flat floor. Rather than rising to her feet again, as she had done twice earlier, Emily sat on the floor and wailed.
Darcy quickly pushed his chair back and stood to pick her up, smiling and saying, “Em-Em. Dear, dear, dear. Here is Papa. Here I am, it is all right.”
He put her against his shoulder, and while whispering to her began to bounce her up and down. The girl quieted almost at once and laid her head on Darcy’s shoulder.
“She is quite sleepy — I dare say she shall be asleep in five minutes.”
“So fast?”
