you? Mr. Robinson’s asking him how he liked our Meryton assemblies, and whether he did not think there were a great many pretty women in the room, and _which_ he thought the prettiest? and his answering immediately to the last question, ‘Oh, the eldest Miss Bennet, beyond a doubt: there cannot be two opinions on that point.’” “Upon my word! Well, that was very decided, indeed--that does seem as if--but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know.” “_My_ overhearings were more to the purpose than _yours_, Eliza,” said Charlotte. “Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to as his friend, is he? Poor Eliza! to be only just _tolerable_.” “I beg you will not put it into Lizzy’s head to be vexed by his ill-treatment, for he is such a disagreeable man that it would be quite a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he sat close to her for half an hour without once opening his lips.” [Illustration: “Without once opening his lips”[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] “Are you quite sure, ma’am? Is not there a little mistake?” said Jane. “I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her.” “Ay, because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he could not help answering her; but she said he seemed very angry at being spoke to.” “Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much unless among his intimate acquaintance. With _them_ he is remarkably agreeable.” “I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it was; everybody says that he is eat up with pride, and I dare say he had heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had to come to the ball in a hack chaise.” “I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long,” said Miss Lucas, “but I wish he had danced with Eliza.” “Another time, Lizzy,” said her mother, “I would not dance with _him_, if I were you.” “I believe, ma’am, I may safely promise you _never_ to dance with him.” “His pride,” said Miss Lucas, “does not offend _me_ so much as pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune, everything in his favour, should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a _right_ to be proud.” “That is very true,” replied Elizabeth, “and I could easily forgive _his_ pride, if he had not mortified _mine_.” “Pride,” observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections, “is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and
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