"Very particular," Mrs. Bennet agreed, in a tone that suggested this was entirely as it should be.
Lady Lucas inclined her head with the careful neutrality of a woman whose own daughter had not received any particular attentions from anyone recently. "Miss Elizabeth is looking very well this evening."
"She does well enough," Mrs. Bennet said, in the tone of a mother long accustomed to making excuses for her, "She would do better if she took more care with her appearance, but you know how she is. Always out of doors, always off somewhere. Before Mr. Collins came along, I sometimes thought the bestshe might hope for was a tenant farmer's wife." She laughed, to indicate this was not quite serious.
Mrs. Long said she thought the rooms were very well attended this evening, and Mrs. Philips agreed, and the conversation redistributed itself.
Elizabeth had dressed with more care than usual, though she would not have admitted, even to herself, for whom the care had been taken. She had come in anxious spirits, and concealed them with sufficient success that nobody observing her would have suspected it. She greeted Charlotte Lucas, whom she had not seen since her return, and found the relief of a familiar face sufficient to carry her through the first minutes of the room.
The first two dances brought their own particular misery. Mr. Collins danced with the solemn application of a man who considers the activity beneath him and performs it as an act of condescension, apologising instead of attending, and often moving wrong without being aware of it. He held her hand with the confidence of a man who already considered the connection established, and Elizabeth bore the full shame and discomfort of a disagreeable partner with the smile of a woman who has had considerable practice. The moment of her release from him was a considerable relief.
Mr. Goulding came to claim her next dance, and when it concluded escorted her to the refreshment table. It was there, standing once again with Charlotte, that the door of the assembly room opened and the Netherfield party arrived.
Bingley came in with the easy warmth of a man who is always pleased to find himself among people, and brightened visibly the moment his eyes found Jane, who appeared very well placed to receive him. He crossed to her with the directness of a compass needle finding north, and the room observed this withthe satisfied attention of a neighbourhood that has been hoping for exactly this development since the moment Netherfield was taken. Behind him came his sisters and Mr. Hurst, Miss Bingley in an orange gown of considerable ambition, her hand already settled upon Darcy's arm with the proprietary ease of a woman who considers the position established and requires only the rest of the world to acknowledge it. She surveyed the room and appeared confirmed in every poor opinion she had formed of Meryton before entering it.
Charlotte said, with the mild interest of a woman finding the whole proceeding vaguely entertaining, “There is the Netherfield party.”
"So it is," said Elizabeth, and kept her eyes on Charlotte.
“There is Mr. Bingley,” Mrs. Bennet said. “And Jane, do you see how he went straight to her? Straight to her, without looking anywhere else. That is a young man who knows his own mind.” She settled back with the satisfaction of a woman watching a plan execute itself. “I said from the beginning that Jane would do very well, and so she will.”
"She is a lovely girl," said Mrs. Philips warmly.
"She is," said Mrs. Bennet. "She always has been."
"And the tall one who arrived with Mr. Bingley," Mrs. Long said, with the hopeful interest of a woman who has nieces and has not yet heard the latest. "Who is he?"
"Mr. Darcy," said Mrs. Bennet, in the tone of a woman who has intelligence worth sharing and knows it. "And you will not believe it, but he is connected, in a manner of speaking, to my own sister Madeline. Very grand family. Very rich. Though I am told he is engaged to his cousin, so there is nothing in it for us." She adjusted her shawl. "Besides, he is too proud by half. Not good enough for my girls."
At the edge of the room, Bingley had danced his first with Jane and obliged several of the other ladies besides, and was just contemplating dancing with Jane again when he observed his friend, who had not stood up at all, not even with his sisters.
"Come, Darcy," said he, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."
"I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner."
“Indeed,” said Bingley. “And after seven weeks in the same neighbourhood, I should think you particularly acquainted with at least one person here.”
“I am acquainted with Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said evenly. “That is not the difficulty.”
“Then there is no difficulty at all,” said Bingley cheerfully, and settled the matter to his own complete satisfaction.
Elizabeth, owing to a temporary scarcity of gentlemen, had been obliged to sit down for part of the set and was standing near enough to overhear more of the conversation than either gentleman intended. She heard Bingley’s last declaration just as Jane approached from the opposite side of the room, her attention fixed rather more upon Darcy than upon Bingley himself.
Bingley saw only that Miss Bennet was approaching. “Ah! Miss Bennet,” he said, immediately offering his arm. “You are come at the very moment to rescue me from Darcy’s excuses. You must stand up with me for the next.”
Jane’s smile appeared without hesitation, though something in it altered briefly when she realised Darcy was already moving away.
“Certainly, Mr. Bingley.”
Darcy crossed the room before further interruption could arise. “Miss Elizabeth,” he said. “Would you do me the honour?”
"Mr. Darcy," she said. "I should be happy to."
At the matrons' table, Mrs. Bennet made a sound that was not quite a word.
"Well," said Mrs. Philips.
"He is engaged," Mrs. Bennet said.
