eclat of a proverb."
"This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure," said he. "How near it
may be to MINE, I cannot pretend to say. 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, when he
asked her if she and her sisters did not very often walk to Meryton. She answered in the
affirmative, and, unable to resist the temptation, added, "When you met us there the other day,
we had just been forming a new acquaintance."
The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of hauteur overspread his features, but he said not a
word, and Elizabeth, though blaming herself for her own weakness, could not go on. At length
Darcy spoke, and in a constrained manner said, "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."
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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 you resentment once created was
unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its BEING CREATED."
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"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 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.
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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."
"Insolent girl!" said Elizabeth to herself. "You are much mistaken if you expect to influence me
by such a paltry attack as this. I see nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and the malice of