She paused, aware that the room had grown quieter.
"I do not argue that a person should remain constant to error merely because he has once embraced it. But when the course is right and the obligation freely undertaken, constancy becomes more than stubbornness. It is proof that our principles govern us even when our inclinations would carry us elsewhere."
Darcy's gaze sharpened slightly at that, though his expression remained composed.
"There are people," Elizabeth said, "who begin every undertaking with great enthusiasm and abandon it at the first sign of discomfort. They call themselves adaptable. Others change their loyalties whenever it becomes socially or personally advantageous and call themselves sensible. I confess I would rather trust the person who remains steadfast."
She looked towards Lady Hortensia. "Constancy is not always easy and it is not always fashionable, but I believe it deserves admiration precisely because it asks us to value something beyond the feeling of the present moment."
The ladies applauded warmly and gave several shouts of praise and encouragement. Mr Hadley joined in from the gentlemen's side until Sir Geoffrey reminded him once again where his allegiance ought to lie.
Elizabeth inclined her head to Lady Hortensia, then looked across at Darcy. "Mr Darcy."
He bowed. "Miss Elizabeth."
There was a thoughtful pause before he began.
"I find myself in the unusual position of disagreeing with very little my opponent has said."
Mr Ashcombe let out a dissatisfied sigh. "That is hardly a promising start."
Darcy returned his attention to Elizabeth. "Miss Elizabeth is correct that loyalty, friendship and responsibility require steadiness. A man who abandons every obligation the moment it becomes difficult is not adaptable. He is unreliable."
Elizabeth lifted an eyebrow. "We are in agreement already. Lady Hortensia may be disappointed."
"I hope not. I have no intention of surrendering."
"The difficulty lies not in deciding whether constancy may be virtuous, but in deciding whether it is always so. A quality cannot deserve unconditional praise merely because it occasionally produces admirable conduct. Courage may become recklessness. Generosity may become extravagance. Constancy may become a determination to continue upon a course long after reason and conscience have warned us that it is wrong."
Elizabeth noticed Mr Bennet's absence suddenly and wished he had been present to hear that argument. It was precisely the kind of activity he enjoyed.
Darcy continued. "We are all capable of mistaking habit for principle. A person may remain in a position because he has occupied it for many years, obey an expectation because it has never occurred to him that it may be questioned or defend an opinion because admitting error would wound his pride."
His eyes held hers for a moment, and she had the uncomfortable impression that he was speaking of more than the proposition before them.
"A person who changes his mind after discovering new evidence is not necessarily weak," Darcy said. "He may be demonstrating greater strength than the person who refuses to reconsider because he fears appearing inconsistent. There is no virtue in being faithfully wrong."
Colonel Fitzwilliam gave a low sound of approval.
"We admire constancy in affection because we assume the affection is wisely placed. We admire constancy in duty because we assume the duty is just. Remove those assumptions and the quality becomes far less simple. Should a man remain loyal to a friend who has proved dishonourable? Should a woman preserve an opinion she formed upon imperfect acquaintance merely to demonstrate that she possesses a steady character?"
Elizabeth felt heat rise in her face. Several heads turned discreetly towards her. Darcy's expression remained serious, though there was a glint in his eyes which told her he knew precisely what he had done.
"That example appears suspiciously particular," she said.
"I understood we were permitted to draw upon experience."
Lady Hortensia raised one hand. "You may quarrel directly when the formal speeches are complete. Mr Darcy still has two minutes."
Darcy inclined his head. "I beg your pardon."
Elizabeth could not tell whether the apology was intended for their hostess or for her.
He resumed. "There are occasions when remaining constant is easier than changing. To continue as one has always done attracts less notice. It avoids difficult explanations and preserves the approval of those who prefer matters as they are. Altering course may require a person to disappoint others or abandon a plan upon which much has already been spent."
His tone had changed. The lightness had gone from it, and although he still addressed the room, Elizabeth sensed something more personal beneath the words.
"In such circumstances, change is not evidence of inconstancy. It may be the first honest decision a person has made. A man should not continue towards an unhappy or unjust conclusion merely because he has travelled a long way in its direction."
