“Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends—whether he may be equally capable of retaining them,is less certain.”
“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,”replied Elizabeth with emphasis,“and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life.”
Darcy made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the subject.At that moment,Sir William Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to pass through the set to the other side of the room;but on perceiving Mr.Darcy,he stopped with a bow of superior courtesy 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 Eliza (glancing at her sister and Bingley) shall take place.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.”
The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy;but Sir William's allusion to his friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and his eyes were directed with a very serious expression towards Bingley and Jane,who were dancing together.Recovering himself, however,shortly,he turned to his partner,and said,
“Sir William's interruption has made me forget what we were talking of.”
“I do not think we were speaking at all.Sir William could not have interrupted two people in the room who had less to say for themselves.We have tried two or three subjects already without success,and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine.”
“What think you of books?”said he,smiling.
“Books—oh!no.I am sure we never read the same,or not with the same feelings.”
“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.”
“The present always occupies you in such scenes—does it?”said he,with a look of doubt.
“Yes, always,”she replied, without knowing what she said, for her thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon afterwards appeared by her suddenly exclaiming,“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.”
“I am,”said he,with a firm voice.
“And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”
“I hope not.”
“It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion,to be secure of judging properly at first.”
“May I ask to what these questions tend?”
“Merely to the illustration of your character,”said she,endeavouring to shake off her gravity.“I am trying to make it out.”
“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.”
“I can readily believe,”answered he gravely,“that reports 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.”
“But if I do not take your likeness now,I may never have another opportunity.”
“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,”he coldly replied.She said no more,and they went down the other dance and parted in silence; and on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree, for in Darcy's breast there was a tolerable powerful feeling towards her, which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against another.
They had not long separated,when Miss Bingley came towards her,and with an expression of civil disdain thus accosted her:
“So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with George Wickham!Your sister has been talking to me about him, and asking me a thousand questions;and I find that the young man quite forgot to tell you,among his other communication,that he was the son of old Wickham, the late Mr. Darcy's steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to give implicit confidence to all his assertions;for as to Mr.Darcy's using him ill, it is perfectly false; for, on the contrary, he has always been remarkably kind to him,though George Wickham has treated Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner.I do not know the particulars, but I know very well that Mr.Darcy is not in the least to blame, that he cannot bear to hear George Wickham mentioned, and that though my brother thought that he could not well avoid including him in his invitation to the officers,he was excessively glad to find that he had taken himself out of the way.His coming into the country at all is a most insolent thing, indeed, and I wonder how he could presume to do it.I pity you,Miss Eliza,for this discovery of your favourite's guilt;but really,considering his descent,one could not expect much better.”
“His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same,”said Elizabeth angrily;“for I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr.Darcy's steward,and of that,I can assure you,he informed me himself.”
“I beg your pardon,”replied Miss Bingley,turning away with a sneer.“Excuse my interference—it was kindly meant.”
