Mr Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. 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 gentlemen 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.
P&P Chapter 3
By the time the Meryton Assembly started, I looked forward to it for three very different reasons.
The first was that I love to dance, and we did not get as many chances as one would like. My sisters and I would be well satisfied with a weekly assembly, but monthly during certainseasons was the best we could hope for. There was frequently dancing to be had at supper parties, but it was not quite the same as a public assembly, where we got tradesmen, a few farmers, a few travellers, and more objects of study in general. Dinner parties were enjoyable enough, but with the same four-and-twenty families meeting week after week and dancing to my sister Mary’s admittedly weak piano playing, we were unlikely to experience anything new.
The second was that we wouldfinallymeet the new residents of Netherfield. New blood in our little market town was rare, and thus to be savoured with real delicacy.
The last reason, naturally, was that we couldfinallycease endlessly speculating. The gossip had us expecting anywhere from a single hunchbacked troll to two dozen elegant ladies from London. Nobody actually knew anything, aside from the men who had visited Mr Bingley, but that did not keep the ladies from speculating, and speculate they did—wildly.
When the party finally arrived, there were but three men and two ladies. The ladies were over-dressed and overly fastidious in their attitudes; we would not be friends—although my sister Jane, who is far more forgiving, thought they might be. I had no compulsion to dissuade her from her fantasy, partly because Jane was so good there are a great number of people who could be friends with her but not fastidious me; and partly because Jane was stubborn as a mule when she thought she was right. I suppose for the sake of completeness, I should also admit the slim possibility that I was wrong.
Of the men, one was obviously old, married, and a glutton, judging by how fast he waddled to the refreshments table. We disregarded him immediately.
As to the other two:Good Heavens!They were by far the two handsomest men I had ever seen.
The man leading the way was middling blond, had a huge smile on his face, and practically bounced on his feet with barely repressed joy. He was just the man Jane would take a fancy to, and since she is about five times prettier than the rest of us, I had high hopes he was sensible.
The other was the tall, dark, handsome, brooding man I favour for reasons I cannot fathom. Jane is all sunshine and light, and she favours similar gentlemen; not that we encountered many in our little backwater. I on the other hand, was happy and impertinent, bordering on effervescent; but I had a great appreciation for brooding, sulking, dangerous-looking men.Ask me to explain it, and I will fail miserably.
The dark and handsome man fascinated me immediately, while the other obviously took every ounce of Jane’s attention. That, coupled with the fact that our good friend Charlotte Lucas was giving us the particulars in a whisper, meant that Jane never really looked past Mr Bingley for several minutes.
Charlotte’s mother dragged her off for introductions. Her father, Sir William Lucas, was a knight, and our local Master of Ceremonies, so he was doing the introductions. Naturally, he would introduce his brood first, as was proper and sensible—however much it set my mother’s teeth on edge.
Mr Bingley, quickly and apparently happily, did his duty by asking Charlotte for a dance, and we were off to the races.
As the party came towards us, Jane fidgeted. You may well wonder why I note that particularly, but you would have to know Jane. She never fidgets—never-never-ever. Ordinarily, a rock has nothing on Jane for steadiness.
I thought I should probably break her nervousness with a bit of impertinence before she burst into flames. “Well Jane, at least we will not quarrel over which man to encourage.”
Jane startled, and probably for the first time took a good look at the other man as the two approached from a dozen yards away.
I startled myself when, instead of the chuckle I expected, she gasped in shock for no reason at all. She turned pale and was tongue tied by the time the party approached, and Sir William began the introductions.
Mr Bingley was at least half-smitten with her, and as expected, he requested her next available set. The whole thing was terribly confusing, as she accepted as nervously as a debutante at her first assembly.
My mother is quite as predictable as the tides. “And you, Mr Darcy? Do you like to dance?”
“I rarely dance, madam,” he said with such a sultry voice (can I use that word for a man?) that I entirely disregarded his essential rejection of me. I could do without his disapproving countenance, but his voice and looks made my knees weak and… well… let us just leave it at that. The effect was profound and disturbing, and I was not entirely certain I could have danced had he asked.
“Let this be the exception,” my mother said, never one to give up at the first obstacle.
The man bowed and walked away.
My mother was fit to be tied, and I was about half-indignant myself, but I did have to admit that not many men knew how to shut Mrs Bennet up. He at least knew a losing battle when he saw one and retired from the field to fight another day.
“Well!I never!” Mama said indignantly. “I have never met a more disagreeable man in my life—”
I was not quite so certain. He was disagreeable all right, but so was my father so Mama may have been doing it a bit brown. A man as handsome as that with a voice like that would have to be careful who he danced with. I was not especially upset withhim for wanting to see the lay of the land before committing to the floor. Somebody in the party had to have some sense, and he was elected.
I am not certain what else Mama might have said because Jane pinched my arm hard enough to raise a welt.
“Lizzy, I need to visit the retiring room before the dance!”
I was uncertain what the urgency was or why she needed my help but did not question it. Gown problems were not uncommon nor was an urgent need to gossip about the handsome Mr Bingley out of our mother’s hearing; I was sanguine about exchanging my mother’s words for my sister’s. There was even some chance we might discuss the handsomer man if we got around to it.
We both curtsied to Mama, who was still in full flow and hardly noticed our exit. I imagined I would return in a quarter hour, and she would still be repining the one that got away.
