Netherfield (Volume I, Chapters 1–23)

VOLUME I

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.

"My dear Mr. Bennet," said his lady to him one day, "have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last? A young man of large fortune from the north of England; his name is Bingley; a single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!"

"How so? How can it affect them?"

"My dear Mr. Bennet, how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them."

"Is that his design in settling here?"

"Design! Nonsense, how can you talk so! You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion on my poor nerves."

"You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these twenty years at least."

Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three and twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. The business of her life was to get her daughters married; its solace was visiting and news. And there were five of them: Jane, the eldest and most beautiful; Elizabeth, her father's favourite, for she had something more of quickness than her sisters; Mary, who read great books and made extracts; and Kitty and Lydia, the youngest, silly and wild, who thought of nothing but the officers of the militia regiment quartered in the town of Meryton.

At the assembly ball at Meryton, Mr. Bingley proved to be good-looking and gentlemanlike, lively and unreserved, and danced every dance, twice with Jane. His friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and the report which was in general circulation within five minutes after his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year; till his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased. He danced only with Mr. Bingley's sisters, and declined being introduced to any other lady.

Elizabeth, sitting down for two dances, overheard Bingley urging him to dance. "There is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable." "Which do you mean?" and turning round he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said: "She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men."

Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings towards him. She told the story, however, with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.

Bingley admired Jane; and Jane, who was all goodness, and who never saw a fault in anybody, admired him in return, though she hid her feelings under a composure of manner. "If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it," said Elizabeth's friend Charlotte Lucas, "she may lose the opportunity of fixing him. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better shew more affection than she feels. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance." "You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself."

Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley's attentions to her sister, Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; but no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had hardly a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. "I have been meditating," he told Miss Bingley, who had designs upon him herself, "on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."

Jane, invited to dine at Netherfield, was sent by her mother on horseback, because it seemed likely to rain; it rained, and she caught a cold, and was obliged to stay. Elizabeth walked the three miles across the fields to see her, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles, and found herself at last within view of the house, with weary ancles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise. Miss Bingley was shocked. "Her petticoat, six inches deep in mud!" "Her eyes were brightened by the exercise," said Mr. Darcy.

During the days she spent at Netherfield, nursing her sister, she and Darcy talked and sparred. "I have faults enough," he said, "but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. My good opinion once lost, is lost for ever." "That is a failing indeed!" cried Elizabeth. "Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it." "There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil." "And your defect is a propensity to hate every body." "And yours," he replied with a smile, "is wilfully to misunderstand them." He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.

Mr. Bennet's estate was entailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation: Mr. Collins, a clergyman, who came to visit, intending to make amends to the daughters by marrying one of them. He was a tall, heavy-looking young man of five and twenty, whose mixture of servility and self-importance was the delight of Mr. Bennet. His patroness was Lady Catherine de Bourgh, whose condescension he could not praise enough. Being told that Jane was likely to be soon engaged, he turned, in the time it took Mrs. Bennet to stir the fire, to Elizabeth.

Meanwhile, the officers of the regiment had a new companion: Mr. Wickham, a young man whose appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. At a card party at her aunt Mrs. Phillips's, he told Elizabeth, that he was the son of the late Mr. Darcy's steward; that the old Mr. Darcy had loved him and meant to provide for him with a good living in the church; and that the present Mr. Darcy, out of jealousy, had refused it. Elizabeth honoured him for his frankness, and her dislike of Darcy was confirmed.

At the ball at Netherfield, Darcy asked her to dance, and she accepted before she knew what she was doing. They spoke of Wickham, and Darcy's face grew dark. And the evening was a series of mortifications: her mother talking loudly at supper about Jane's prospects; Mary singing too long; Mr. Collins introducing himself to Mr. Darcy, without introduction, as the clergyman of his aunt. To Elizabeth it appeared, that had her family made an agreement to expose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit, or finer success.

The next morning Mr. Collins proposed. "My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances to set the example of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly, which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness." Elizabeth refused him; he would not believe it, taking it for the usual practice of elegant females. Mrs. Bennet, in a fury, carried her to her father.

"Come here, child," cried her father as she appeared. "I understand that Mr. Collins has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true?" Elizabeth replied that it was. "Very well, and this offer of marriage you have refused?" "I have, sir." "Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your accepting it. Is not it so, Mrs. Bennet?" "Yes, or I will never see her again." "An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do."

Three days later, Mr. Collins was engaged to Charlotte Lucas. "I am not romantic, you know," said Charlotte to her astonished friend. "I never was. I ask only a comfortable home; and considering Mr. Collins's character, connections, and situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair, as most people can boast on entering the marriage state."

And the whole party at Netherfield removed suddenly to London; and Miss Bingley wrote to Jane that her brother would not return that winter, and that they all hoped to see him married to Miss Darcy. Jane bore it with gentle steadiness. Mrs. Bennet bore it with nothing but complaints.

(End of Episode 1 — continued in Episode 2: Hunsford)