Hertfordshire.
He walked on until he was within a few steps of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, resolving that he must seek his chance now, before her card was filled for the evening. However, for the moment, he was too late, for at that instant she took the floor with one of the officers. Darcy continued to pace around the room for the next half hour until, at last, the music ended, and she crossed the room to join Miss Charlotte Lucas in conversation.
Darcy quickly passed behind the company and, addressing her with few preliminaries, applied for her hand for the next two dances. Miss Bennet hesitated for what seemed to him a long moment. Then she accepted his offer without comment, and he turned away immediately, but with a feeling of satisfaction which he had rarely experienced.
When the dancing recommenced, Miss Lucas and Miss Bennet were deep in conversation as Darcy approached to claim her hand. Together, they took their places opposite each other in the set. He noticed that the nearest of the company seemed to be taking a lively interest in the rare spectacle of his taking to the floor.
As the first couples began the steps, they both stood silent, not speaking a word.
Then, it was their turn. When he took her hand for the first turn, Darcy found himself close to being overcome with feelings that were as powerful as they were novel. Her touch was firm, more steady and confident than that of many women, and her balance was sure as she turned away from him and then back, as the dance required.
He was so little inclined normally to speak whilst dancing that the absence of words to begin with did not bother him. After a few minutes, she made some slight observation on the dance. He replied briefly, and was again silent. It was enough for him for the moment to be where he was, and with her.
After a silence for some minutes, she addressed him a second time.
“It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples.”
This was very unlike the stilted conversation that Darcy was used to on such occasions and, despite himself, he smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said.
She seemed encouraged by this, and said, “Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps bye and bye I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But now we may be silent.”
Her confidence commended itself to him.
“Do you talk by rule then, while you are dancing?”
“Sometimes,” she replied, “One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together, and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.”
Again he found himself reflecting that the manner of her address was a refreshing change to that to which he was accustomed.
“Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?”
“Both,” replied Miss Bennet, “for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds.”
She paused, as his heart warmed to the disclosure that she had given more than a little thought to the subject.
Then she went on to say, slowly, “We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb.”
He was not happy with this response.
“This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure. How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say.”
Then, although unaware that he disclosed some irritation at what might be a criticism of himself, he added, “You think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly.”
“I must not decide on my own performance.”
He made no answer, and they were again silent till they had gone down the dance.
Recalling how she had reached Netherfield when her sister was ill, and where they had last met, Darcy then asked her cautiously if she and her sisters very often walked the mile from Longbourn to Meryton.
“Yes,” she answered and added, “when you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance.”
He was immediately aware to whom she referred— Wickham!—and he was aware that the colour came into his face. But he did not reply immediately.
At length he said, in a constrained manner, “Mr. Wick-ham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends. Whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain.”
Darcy was not prepared for the firm reply, which seemed to be based on more than a limited acquaintance between Wickham and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship, and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life.”
This reply indicated some measure of intimacy between her and Wickham which concerned Darcy almost beyond reason.
But he made no answer. Indeed, he had none. If he had been feeling more rational, he might have been aware that he was blaming that gentleman for again coming into his life to damage something that mattered to him.
At that moment, Sir William Lucas appeared, seeking to pass through the set to the other side of the room. Seeing them together, he stopped with a bow to compliment him on his dancing and his partner.
“I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear Sir. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss Eliza, shall take place.”
At this point, Darcy saw that Sir William was looking at her sister, Jane Bennet, and Bingley. He was brought back to the present company by Sir William.
“What congratulations will then flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy; but let me not interrupt you, Sir. You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.”
Darcy’s attention to the latter part of this address was very limited, as Sir William’s allusion to his friend kept his thoughts with Bingley, who was dancing with the eldest Miss Bennet. A novel and unwelcome thought came into Darcy’s mind. Was that the general opinion, that his friend and Miss Jane Bennet...
However, he recollected himself, and turned to his partner, saying, “Sir William’s interruption has made me forget what we were talking of.”
She replied, rather sharply he thought, “I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have interrupted any two people in the room who had less to say for themselves. We have tried two to three subjects already without success, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine.”
With the dance soon to come to the end, he realised that his opportunity to speak to her again during the evening might be very limited, and he determined to change the subject to something more likely to produce a favourable reply.
Remembering that, like her father, she seemed to be fond of reading, Darcy tried again.
“What think you of books?” said he, smiling.
But she seemed determined not to be pleased.
“Books. Oh! no. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings.”
He tried again, though disappointed at her reaction.
“I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions.”
“No. I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full of something else.”
His confidence in receiving a more sympathetic response was fading.
“The present always occupies you in such scenes does it?” he said, doubtfully this time.
“Yes, always,” she replied.
