Chapter 8

At five o'clock the two ladies of Netherfield went away to dress. At half-past six Elizabeth was called down to dinner. Everyone asked politely after Miss Bennet. Among these inquiries Elizabeth had the pleasure of noticing that Mr. Bingley's concern was far more sincere than the rest. But she could not give a very good answer. Jane was not at all better. On hearing this, the sisters repeated three or four times how sorry they were, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how very much they disliked being ill themselves. Then they thought no more of the matter. Their indifference towards Jane, when she was not before their eyes, gave Elizabeth back the full enjoyment of all her first dislike.

Their brother was indeed the only one of the party whom she could look on with any goodwill. His anxiety for Jane was plain to see. His attentions to herself were most pleasing. So she did not feel so much of an intruder as she believed the others considered her. Except from him, she had very little notice from anyone. Miss Bingley was taken up with Mr. Darcy, and her sister hardly less so. Mr. Hurst, who sat next to Elizabeth, was an idle man who lived only to eat, drink, and play at cards. When he found that she preferred a plain dish to a rich ragout, he had nothing to say to her.

When dinner was over, Elizabeth went straight back to Jane. Miss Bingley began to speak ill of her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners, she said, were very bad indeed. They were a mixture of pride and rudeness. She had no conversation, no style, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and added,

"In short, she has nothing to recommend her, except being an excellent walker. I shall never forget how she looked this morning. She really looked almost wild."

"She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep a straight face. Very foolish to come at all! Why must she go running about the country because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blown about!"

"Yes, and her petticoat. I hope you saw her petticoat. It was six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain. And the gown that had been let down to hide it was not doing its work at all."

"Your picture may be very exact, Louisa," said Bingley. "But all this was lost on me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice."

"You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure," said Miss Bingley. "And I am inclined to think you would not wish to see your sister make such a show of herself."

"Certainly not."

"To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show a hateful sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to good manners."

"It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing," said Bingley.

"I am afraid, Mr. Darcy," said Miss Bingley in a half whisper, "that this adventure has rather lessened your admiration of her fine eyes."

"Not at all," he replied. "They were brightened by the exercise." A short pause followed this speech, and then Mrs. Hurst began again.

"I have a very great regard for Jane Bennet. She is really a very sweet girl. I wish with all my heart that she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it."

"I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton?"

"Yes. And they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside."

"That is capital," added her sister. They both laughed heartily.

"If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside," cried Bingley, "it would not make them one bit less agreeable."

"But it must very greatly lessen their chance of marrying men of any standing in the world," replied Darcy.

To this speech Bingley made no answer. But his sisters agreed with all their hearts. For some time they amused themselves at the expense of their dear friend's vulgar relations.

When they left the dining-parlour, however, their tenderness returned, and they went to Jane's room. They sat with her till they were called to coffee. Jane was still very poorly. Elizabeth would not leave her at all until late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her asleep. Only then did she go down. It seemed to her more right than pleasant to do so. On entering the drawing-room, she found the whole party at Loo, a card game. She was at once invited to join them. But she suspected that they were playing high, so she declined it. She made her sister her excuse, and said she would amuse herself with a book for the short time she could stay below. Mr. Hurst looked at her in astonishment.

"Do you prefer reading to cards?" said he. "That is rather singular."

"Miss Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, "despises cards. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else."

"I deserve neither such praise nor such blame," cried Elizabeth. "I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things."

"In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure," said Bingley. "And I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well."

Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards a table where a few books were lying. He at once offered to fetch her others, all that his library could supply.

"And I wish my collection were larger, for your benefit and my own credit. But I am an idle fellow. Though I have not many books, I have more than I ever looked into."

Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those in the room.

"I am astonished," said Miss Bingley, "that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!"

"It ought to be good," he replied. "It has been the work of many generations."

"And then you have added so much to it yourself. You are always buying books."

"I cannot understand the neglect of a family library in such days as these."

"Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley."

"I wish it may."

"But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire."

"With all my heart. I will buy Pemberley itself, if Darcy will sell it."

"I am talking of possibilities, Charles."

"Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation."

Elizabeth was so much caught by what passed that she had very little attention left for her book. Soon she laid it wholly aside. She drew near the card-table, and placed herself between Mr. Bingley and his sister Mrs. Hurst, to watch the game.

"Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?" said Miss Bingley. "Will she be as tall as I am?"

"I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or rather taller."

"How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a face, such manners, and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her playing on the pianoforte is exquisite."

"It is amazing to me," said Bingley, "how young ladies can have the patience to be so very accomplished as they all are."

"All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?"

"Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I hardly know anyone who cannot do all this. And I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time without being told that she was very accomplished."

"Your list of the common range of accomplishments," said Darcy, "has too much truth in it. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it in no other way than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your view of ladies in general. Among all the people I know, I cannot boast of more than half a dozen who are really accomplished."

"Nor I, I am sure," said Miss Bingley.

"Then," said Elizabeth, "you must include a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman."

"Yes. I do include a great deal in it."

"Oh, certainly," cried his faithful assistant. "No one can be really thought accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. To deserve the word, a woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages. And besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, in the tone of her voice, and in her address and expressions. Otherwise the word will be only half deserved."

"All this she must possess," added Darcy. "And to all this she must still add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by wide reading."

"I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."

"Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt that all this is possible?"

"I never saw such a woman. I never saw such ability, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, all united in one person."

Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt. They were both protesting that they knew many women who answered this description. Then Mr. Hurst called them to order, with bitter complaints about their inattention to the game. All conversation was thereby at an end, and Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room.

When the door was closed on her, Miss Bingley said, "Eliza Bennet is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own. With many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But in my opinion it is a paltry device, a very mean art."

"Undoubtedly," replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed. "There is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes lower themselves to use for captivating others. Whatever looks like cunning is despicable."

Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue the subject.

Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse and that she could not leave her. Bingley urged that Mr. Jones should be sent for at once. His sisters were convinced that no country advice could be of any use. They recommended sending an express, a fast messenger, to London for one of the most eminent physicians. This she would not hear of. But she was not so unwilling to accept their brother's proposal. It was settled that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if Miss Bennet were not decidedly better. Bingley was quite uncomfortable. His sisters declared that they were miserable. They comforted their misery, however, with duets after supper. He, meanwhile, could find no better relief for his feelings than by giving his housekeeper directions that every possible attention should be paid to the sick lady and her sister.