Convinced as Elizabeth now was that Miss Bingley's dislike of her had
originated in jealousy, she could not help feeling how unwelcome her ap-
pearance at Pemberley must be to her, and was curious to know with how
much civility on that lady's side the acquaintance would now be renewed.
On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into the saloon,
whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for summer. Its windows open-
ing to the ground, admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody hills
behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts which
were scattered over the intermediate lawn.
In this house they were received by Miss Darcy, who was sitting there
with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and the lady with whom she lived in
London. Georgiana's reception of them was very civil, but attended with all
the embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness and the fear of
doing wrong, would easily give to those who felt themselves inferior the
belief of her being proud and reserved. Mrs. Gardiner and her niece, howev-
er, did her justice, and pitied her.
By Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley they were noticed only by a curtsey;
and, on their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always
be, succeeded for a few moments. It was first broken by Mrs. Annesley, a
genteel, agreeable-looking woman, whose endeavour to introduce some
kind of discourse proved her to be more truly well-bred than either of the
others; and between her and Mrs. Gardiner, with occasional help from Eliz-
abeth, the conversation was carried on. Miss Darcy looked as if she wished
for courage enough to join in it; and sometimes did venture a short sentence
when there was least danger of its being heard.
Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely watched by Miss Bing-
ley, and that she could not speak a word, especially to Miss Darcy, without
calling her attention. This observation would not have prevented her from
trying to talk to the latter, had they not been seated at an inconvenient dis-
tance; but she was not sorry to be spared the necessity of saying much. Her
own thoughts were employing her. She expected every moment that some
of the gentlemen would enter the room. She wished, she feared that the
master of the house might be amongst them; and whether she wished or
feared it most, she could scarcely determine. After sitting in this manner a
quarter of an hour without hearing Miss Bingley's voice, Elizabeth was
roused by receiving from her a cold inquiry after the health of her family.
She answered with equal indifference and brevity, and the others said no
more.
The next variation which their visit afforded was produced by the en-
trance of servants with cold meat, cake, and a variety of all the finest fruits
in season; but this did not take place till after many a significant look and
smile from Mrs. Annesley to Miss Darcy had been given, to remind her of
her post. There was now employment for the whole party—for though they
could not all talk, they could all eat; and the beautiful pyramids of grapes,
nectarines, and peaches soon collected them round the table.
While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity of deciding whether
she most feared or wished for the appearance of Mr. Darcy, by the feelings
which prevailed on his entering the room; and then, though but a moment
before she had believed her wishes to predominate, she began to regret that
he came.
He had been some time with Mr. Gardiner, who, with two or three other
gentlemen from the house, was engaged by the river, and had left him only
on learning that the ladies of the family intended a visit to Georgiana that
morning. No sooner did he appear than Elizabeth wisely resolved to be per-
fectly easy and unembarrassed; a resolution the more necessary to be made,
but perhaps not the more easily kept, because she saw that the suspicions of
the whole party were awakened against them, and that there was scarcely an
eye which did not watch his behaviour when he first came into the room. In
no countenance was attentive curiosity so strongly marked as in Miss Bing-
ley's, in spite of the smiles which overspread her face whenever she spoke
to one of its objects; for jealousy had not yet made her desperate, and her
attentions to Mr. Darcy were by no means over. Miss Darcy, on her broth-
er's entrance, exerted herself much more to talk, and Elizabeth saw that he
was anxious for his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded as
much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side. Miss Bing-
ley saw all this likewise; and, in the imprudence of anger, took the first op-
portunity of saying, with sneering civility:
"Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the ——shire Militia removed from Meryton?
They must be a great loss to your family."
In Darcy's presence she dared not mention Wickham's name; but Eliza-
beth instantly comprehended that he was uppermost in her thoughts; and the
various recollections connected with him gave her a moment's distress; but
exerting herself vigorously to repel the ill-natured attack, she presently an-
swered the question in a tolerably detached tone. While she spoke, an invol-
untary glance showed her Darcy, with a heightened complexion, earnestly
looking at her, and his sister overcome with confusion, and unable to lift up
her eyes. Had Miss Bingley known what pain she was then giving her
beloved friend, she undoubtedly would have refrained from the hint; but she
had merely intended to discompose Elizabeth by bringing forward the idea
of a man to whom she believed her partial, to make her betray a sensibility
which might injure her in Darcy's opinion, and, perhaps, to remind the latter
of all the follies and absurdities by which some part of her family were con-
nected with that corps. Not a syllable had ever reached her of Miss Darcy's
meditated elopement. To no creature had it been revealed, where secrecy
was possible, except to Elizabeth; and from all Bingley's connections her
brother was particularly anxious to conceal it, from the very wish which
Elizabeth had long ago attributed to him, of their becoming hereafter her
own. He had certainly formed such a plan, and without meaning that it
should effect his endeavour to separate him from Miss Bennet, it is proba-
ble that it might add something to his lively concern for the welfare of his
friend.
Elizabeth's collected behaviour, however, soon quieted his emotion; and
as Miss Bingley, vexed and disappointed, dared not approach nearer to
Wickham, Georgiana also recovered in time, though not enough to be able
to speak any more. Her brother, whose eye she feared to meet, scarcely rec-
ollected her interest in the affair, and the very circumstance which had been
designed to turn his thoughts from Elizabeth seemed to have fixed them on
her more and more cheerfully.
Their visit did not continue long after the question and answer above
mentioned; and while Mr. Darcy was attending them to their carriage Miss
Bingley was venting her feelings in criticisms on Elizabeth's person, be-
haviour, and dress. But Georgiana would not join her. Her brother's recom-
mendation was enough to ensure her favour; his judgement could not err.
And he had spoken in such terms of Elizabeth as to leave Georgiana with-
out the power of finding her otherwise than lovely and amiable. When Dar-
cy returned to the saloon, Miss Bingley could not help repeating to him
some part of what she had been saying to his sister.
"How very ill Miss Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy," she
cried; "I never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she is since the
winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that
we should not have known her again."
However little Mr. Darcy might have liked such an address, he contented
himself with coolly replying that he perceived no other alteration than her
being rather tanned, no miraculous consequence of travelling in the
summer.
"For my own part," she rejoined, "I must confess that I never could see
any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no brilliancy;
and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character—there is
nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the com-
mon way; and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I
could never see anything extraordinary in them. They have a sharp,
shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether there is a
self-sufficiency without fashion, which is intolerable."
Persuaded as Miss Bingley was that Darcy admired Elizabeth, this was
not the best method of recommending herself; but angry people are not al-
ways wise; and in seeing him at last look somewhat nettled, she had all the
success she expected. He was resolutely silent, however, and, from a deter-
mination of making him speak, she continued:
"I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we
all were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect
your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, 'She a
beauty!—I should as soon call her mother a wit.' But afterwards she seemed
to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time."
"Yes," replied Darcy, who could contain himself no longer, "but that was
only when I first saw her, for it is many months since I have considered her
as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance."
He then went away, and Miss Bingley was left to all the satisfaction of
having forced him to say what gave no one any pain but herself.
Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth talked of all that had occurred during their
visit, as they returned, except what had particularly interested them both.
The look and behaviour of everybody they had seen were discussed, except
of the person who had mostly engaged their attention. They talked of his
sister, his friends, his house, his fruit—of everything but himself; yet Eliza-
beth was longing to know what Mrs. Gardiner thought of him, and Mrs.
Gardiner would have been highly gratified by her niece's beginning the
subject.
