There was silence between them for some time.
Then she suddenly exclaimed, “I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created.”
For several moments, he puzzled as to the reason that might be behind this question, but could not discern it, so he replied, more resolutely than he felt, “I am.”
“And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”
He was genuinely surprised, for the idea had never occurred to him as a possibility.
“I hope not,” he replied.
There was a silence again, although more brief this time.
“It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first.”
He reflected that it seemed like a query, rather than a statement.
“May I ask to what these questions tend?”
“Merely to the illustration of your character,” she said gravely. “I am trying to make it out.”
He took some comfort that this remark at least did not indicate any indifference to him and, emboldened, asked her, “And what is your success?”
She shook her head. “I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”
For a moment, he was not at all sure how best to reply. She might, after all, have heard any manner of falsehoods about him from Wickham. With that in mind, he answered seriously.
“I can readily believe, that report may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.”
She looked at him almost anxiously as she said, “But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity.”
What meaning this had was not clear to Darcy, and he said to her more coldly, “I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours.”
She said no more, and they went down the dance for the last time. At the end, they parted in silence.
Despite this unsatisfactory ending to the encounter, she had revealed some interest in his own person as to make Darcy not unhappy with her.
His anger was therefore directed solely towards a former acquaintance of his own. Darcy stood apart from the throng as they took the floor again, and regretted every unfortunate consequence of his family’s long acquaintance with George Wickham.
At last the time came for everyone to take refreshment. Darcy moved with the rest of the company to the dining room, where a choice of dishes was laid out on the tables.
It was in a disturbed frame of mind that Darcy took his seat at a table. He had scarcely begun to eat when he was accosted by the clerical gentleman who had seemed to be with the party from Longbourn. He was unable to conceal his astonishment as this person prefaced his speech with a solemn bow, and introduced himself as the Bennets’ cousin, Mr. Collins, lately engaged by Darcy’s aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, as the rector at Hunsford. He then went on, at length, to express his good fortune at obtaining that position, and the consequent opportunity to meet his patron so regularly in the course of his duties.
By this time, Darcy was eyeing him with unrestrained wonder. When at last Mr. Collins allowed him time to speak, he replied with an air of distant civility, saying only that he was so well convinced of Lady Catherine’s discernment as to be certain she could never bestow a favour unworthily.
Mr. Collins, however, was not to be discouraged.
Instead, he carried on speaking again, although mostly by repetition of what he had already expounded. Finally, Darcy mustered a slight bow, and was able to move away to fetch a glass of wine.
When he returned to his place, he was not pleased to find that Mrs. Bennet had taken her seat opposite him with Lady Lucas, with whom she was talking loudly. More welcome was the realisation that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was sitting at the same table, although also opposite himself and much too far away for him to make any conversation.
He was unable to avoid hearing the exchange between Mrs. Bennet and Lady Lucas, and paid that more attention, as the former seemed to be talking of nothing but her expectation that Miss Jane Bennet would be soon married to Bingley. She seemed incapable of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match, his wealth and the benefits to her, as the marriage must throw her younger daughters in the way of other rich men.
Darcy soon became acutely aware of Miss Elizabeth’s embarrassment and endeavours to put a stop to her mother’s words, or to persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible manner.
Mrs. Bennet, however, scolded her for being nonsensical, saying loudly enough for Darcy to hear, “What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing he may not like to hear.”
“For heaven’s sake, madam, speak lower,” he heard Miss Elizabeth Bennet say. “What advantage can it be to you to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by so doing.”
This had no effect, Mrs. Bennet continuing in the same vein.
Darcy tried when he could to look elsewhere, for he was aware of the daughter glancing towards him when she thought that she was not observed, but he missed very little of what was being said to Lady Lucas. Everything that he heard confirmed his previous view that Mrs. Bennet was vulgar, thoughtless, ill-mannered and the last person in the world whom Bingley should desire as a mother-in-law.
In that, Darcy reflected, he profoundly shared Miss Bingley’s opinion. And Mrs. Bennet’s younger daughters appeared to possess little sense, and even less decorum in company, and few accomplishments of which they might be proud. Indeed, they were a very unhappy contrast to the modest demeanour of his sister Georgiana and the talents of other ladies of his acquaintance.
At last Mrs. Bennet had no more to say, but the respite for Darcy was short.
As supper was now over, Bingley invited those prepared to oblige the company to sing. Before others had the opportunity, Miss Mary Bennet accepted this invitation with alacrity. The performance was to Darcy no comparison to that of Miss Elizabeth, whom he had heard playing at previous gatherings in Meryton. At last, the young lady was prevailed upon by her father, in a manner that reminded Darcy a little of his second daughter, to give way.
At this moment, the voice of the rector of Hunsford, Mr. Collins, was again heard.
“If I,” said Mr. Collins, “were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean however to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time to music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make such an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself and not offensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the time that remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the care and improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making as comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importance that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards every body, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well of the man who should omit an occasion of testifying his respect towards anybody connected with the family.”
And with a bow to Mr. Darcy, he concluded his speech, which had been spoken so loud as to be heard by half the room.
Mr. Bennet looked amused, but his wife commended Mr. Collins for having spoken so sensibly, and observed in a half-whisper to Lady Lucas that he was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man. Darcy said nothing, but he had no difficulty in taking a different view.
At that moment, Miss Bingley appeared by Darcy’s side.
“I have been having a fascinating conversation with a lady whom I know you favour. It seems that she is so persuaded of the attractions of a certain Mr. Wickham that she does not wish to listen to well-intentioned advice from someone as independent of the matter as myself. They would make a pretty pair, would they not, Mr. Darcy, she and Mr. Wickham? Indeed, you must agree that they seem to be made for each other.”
