Chapter 9 ~ Expecting Pleasure

5 Listen, my beloved brothers, has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom, which he has promised to those who love him? 6 But you have dishonored the poor man. Are not the rich the ones who oppress you, and the ones who drag you into court? 7 Are they not the ones who blaspheme the honorable name by which you were called? (James 2:5-7, ESV)

7 Leave the presence of a fool, for there you do not meet words of knowledge. 8 The wisdom of the prudent is to discern his way, but the folly of fools is deceiving. 15 The simple believes everything, but the prudent gives thought to his steps. 18 The simple inherit folly, but the prudent are crowned with knowledge. 33 Wisdom rests in the heart of a man of understanding, but it makes itself known even in the midst of fools. (Proverbs 14:7, 8, 15, 18, 33, ESV)

When the Bennets entered Netherfield's drawing-room all but Elizabeth had every expectation of pleasure. The ladies anticipated all the usual excesses of such a gathering: dancing, gossip, and lace. More than he wished to admire and to be admired, Mr. Collins expected to honour Miss Mary by bestowing on her all those little attentions so delightful to young ladies. Mr. Bennet looked forward to watching his neighbours exhibit their folly with more than their usual skill. Elizabeth, however, knew that she must tread carefully that evening. Her future happiness was at stake and she needed to judge wisely the merits of a certain gentleman. She had dressed with more than usual care, to learn anything at all she must at the very least draw his eye. This she immediately did. He and Bingley approached them when the guests had all assembled. Mr. Darcy greeted her very cheerfully and made a great joke of their meaning to keep Jane and herself so engrossed with their own attentions that other gentlemen would not have a chance to request a set.

They remained engaged in this close company until the musicians began their song. Bingley, having already claimed the first dance with Jane, drew her to the set. Elizabeth saw Kitty and Lydia join Mr. Denny and Captain Carter. Even Mary soon left their mother's side when Mr. Collins, awkward and solemn, claimed her for the dance. Looking back to the place where Mr. Darcy had stood Elizabeth discovered that he had walked away leaving her standing rather noticeably alone. She watched him approach Miss Bingley to lead her to the set.

He had made her no excuse; he simply left her side after the sets had formed. She was now hopeless of a partner. Anyone who might have asked her would have reasonably assumed that she was already engaged for the set. A dreadful suspicion arose of his being exactly the kind of man Mr. Wickham warned her about. It was obvious that he had always planned to dance with Miss Bingley and whether they had an understanding or not it was a matter of course for him to begin the ball with his hostess. Why should he put it out of her power to dance that set? If it were not deliberately done it certainly showed a marked disregard for her comfort.

Her friend Charlotte Lucas, was with her parents and having spent very little time with her for nearly a fortnight she moved that way. If she could not dance she would have excellent company. Charlotte listened warily to some some of what had occured at the card party. She had been about to caution her friend when Elizabeth found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Wickham, who took her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she did, she accepted him. After their conversation it felt as if by dancing with him she was saying she believed him. Before he could lead her away Mr. Wickham was momentarily distracted by Sir William who complimented him on his choice of partner. Charlotte took this oppourtunity to caution her in a hurried whisper,

"Do not be a simpleton, and allow Mr. Wickham to make you think ill of a man of ten times his consequence. It is very likely only envy."

With her mind still unsettled, worried that this dance would be something of a betrayal to a man who wished to marry her. Well he said he wished to convince her to marry him which was the same thing was it not? She could only offer her partner a false smile when he claimed her hand. Questions still troubled her. Had she allowed this other man to poison her thoughts against a very charming and very eligible suitor? Was it not unreasonable to doubt him for doing nothing more sinister than dance with his hostess? She was very close to deciding that attention, forbearance, patience with Wickham, was injury to Darcy when they took their place.

Though they were at the bottom of the set they did not have much time before they began to dance and so were spared some of the awkwardness of attempting conversation. Mr. Wickham had some small idea of desiring to ask her to stand up with him but did not think he would have the courage even if he had an opportunity. When he saw her group of friends drop away like the petals from a flower and leave her, he was sure her partner would soon claim her. But seeing her drift towards her friend seeking conversation he decided she must not sit out the first dance at a ball.

He wondered at his good fortune to have her attention for two dances and he thought how he would like to charm her. That he knew would be foolish indulgence – his circumstances kept him from any hope of her. What possible use was charm when he had nothing whatever to offer? Well, certainly could offer her nothing like what she deserved. If he had income enough to support her he knew he would think of witty remarks to make her laugh. He would pay her every attention and would not stand morose and silent at the edge of every social gathering. He had very little experience dancing but he managed to remember the steps and after their figures were completed he tried to think of something they could talk about that would not bring Darcy to mind when she said,

"I do always enjoy the minuet. I find it's simplicity refreshing." Elizabeth had observed his low spirits and intended to put him at ease. He had attempted no conversation and, believing that he meant only to dance, she felt she could be easy.

"The advance and retreat of this dance is very like courtship is it not?" When he realized what he had said and how near it came to flirtation he was horrified and instead of a boyish blush he turned grey and his face was as still as granite.

She heard him with some concern but when she observed his countenance she laughed.

"I suppose it is. Now we have spoken of the minuet we ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples."

It was his turn to laugh – well it was a quick huff of air accompanied by something like a smile and Elizabeth decided it was a laugh – when he answered her.

"I confess I do not often dance. I will need to learn the expected manner of conversation now that I can manage the steps tolerably well."

"Fie! Though you are a clergyman there is no need for excessive modesty. You manage the steps and the conversation creditably.

That comment, followed by a smirk that did not mock but rather hinted she was enjoying herself, did earn a slight blush but she did not notice it. Smiling mischievously Mr. Wickham observed that the room was exactly the right size for the assembled company and Elizabeth was surprised to discover that he could make her laugh aloud.

"Quite true Mr. Wickham and there are exactly the right number of couples dancing at this moment to make a most excellent ball.

A little awed by her smile and his small victory he was fearful of breaking the spell so he said nothing. The dance soon parted them and he smiled at her, – well it was little more than a lifting of his lips but he imagined he was grinning – certain that he looked like a fool. When they returned to each other he recollected himself and asked what they had been talking of.

"We have said everything we must, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine."

"You said you speak of philosophy during cards, what subject interests you in a ballroom? Novels, perhaps?"

"You do not read novels -- Oh! no. That I cannot believe!"

"You have caught me out, perhaps when I have worked my way through more of your father's library I might give one a try. You defended them so well that I am tempted, but there remain so many other volumes I have longed to study that it may be some time before do."

"If you choose to bury yourself in dry philosophy and dusty histories I cannot pity you. You made your choice and must endure the consequences." She pressed her lips together hoping she could thereby distract herself from the consequences of her own choices.

"Do you despise all history? What of Shakespeare?"

"Yes, all," she replied, without knowing what she said, for her thoughts had wandered far from the subject and when she soon afterwards exclaimed, despite all her previous wishes to avoid the topic, "I remember, Mr. Wickham, you warning against being deceived by charm and flattery. Are there not other things that may blind someone to the truth – jealousy might do the job. Are you certain that your own judgment is not clouded?"

"I am," said he, with a firm voice. He flushed a bit; he was a fool to hope she could have been even a little charmed by him. Was it necessary to expose and mock his infatuation?

"You do not envy his position in the world?"

"I do not." He breathed out it was not his infatuation she referred to. Her face was all innocent query and her next question was asked so quietly that he may have only caught it by reading her lips.

"Do you think it possible that he may have changed."

"I very much hope so. I still would caution you. If he has truly changed he will not be troubled by strict adherence to propriety. You are wise and good, but he has charmed the wise and good into foolish compromise before and as you see he is yet unmarried. I have said more than I ever intended to, but I cannot see you deceived. Mr. Darcy is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends -- whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain."

Shocked she said no more, and they completed the dance in silence. He returned her to Charlotte, bowed and walked away.

Elizabeth did not allow herself to be made unhappy, this was a ball and she meant to enjoy it. Mr. Wickham had been convincing and yet she could still hope. Mr. Bingley was too sincere to be doubted and his interest in her sister was obvious to all. Mr. Darcy could not mean to behave dishonourbly towards someone likely to be connected to his friend. What gentleman could do it?

She danced the next set with an officer. He was agreeable company and she was distracted from her troubles by a pleasant half hour in the company of an agreeable gentleman. They had not long separated when Miss Bingley, with an expression of civil disdain, chose to occupy the interval between dances by thus accosting her:

"So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite distracted over George Wickham! Your sister has been talking to me about him, and asking questions. I find that the young man forgot to tell you, among his other communications, that he was only 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. His coming into the country at all is a most insolent thing, indeed, and I wonder how he could presume to do it. I do not know the particulars, but I know very well that Mr. Darcy is not in the least to blame. I pity you, Miss Eliza, for this discovery of your curate's perfidy; but really considering his descent - -"

"I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy's steward, and of that," said Elizabeth coldly, "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."

"Foolish girl!" said Elizabeth to herself. "Of what value did she imagine her information to be? Can she believe that merely by being a gentleman by birth he would be a gentleman in truth?"

She then saw Jane who met her with a smile of such sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as sufficiently marked how well she was satisfied with the occurrences of the evening. Elizabeth instantly read her feelings, and at that moment worry over for Wickham's accusations, concern over Mr. Darcy's honour, and everything else, gave way before the hope of Jane's being in the fairest way for happiness.

"I do want to know," said she, with a countenance no less smiling than her sister's, "what you have learnt about Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham. But perhaps you have been too pleasantly engaged to think of anyone other than Mr. Bingley; in which case you may be sure of my pardon."

"No," replied Jane, "I have not forgotten him; but I have nothing satisfactory to tell you. Mr. Bingley does not know much of their history, but he does not doubt the good conduct of his friend. They have been frequently in company and he thinks him a very amiable gentleman. I am sorry to say that he believes Mr. Wickham may not be a trustworthy witness, he suspects him of envy."

"Mr. Bingley does not know Mr. Wickham himself?"

"No; he never saw him till the other morning at Meryton."

"This opinion, then, is what he has received from Mr. Darcy. That is not very helpful. But his assurances of Mr. Darcy's good name does much to ease my mind. Even if Mr. Wickham's account is honest, Mr. Darcy's conduct has much improved. I feel confident that I may still think of both gentlemen as I did before."

She then changed the discourse to one more gratifying to each, and on which there could be no difference of sentiment. Elizabeth listened with delight to the happy, though modest hopes which Jane entertained of Bingley's regard, and said all in her power to heighten her confidence in it. On their being joined by Mr. Bingley himself, Elizabeth withdrew to Miss Lucas; to whose inquiry after the pleasantness of her last partner she had scarcely replied before Mr. Collins came up to her, and requested a dance.

As they stood waiting for the dancers to all take their places, he told Elizabeth with an exultant air that he had just been so fortunate as to make a most important discovery.

"I have found out," said he, "by a singular accident, that there is now in the room a near relation of my patroness. I happened to overhear the gentleman himself mentioning the names of his cousin Miss de Bourgh, and of her mother Lady Catherine. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! I am most thankful that the discovery is made in time for me to pay my respects to him, which I am going to do, and trust he will excuse my not having done it before. My total ignorance of the connexion must plead my apology."

"You do not intend to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy!"

"Indeed I do. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier. I believe him to be perhaps, a nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh." He stopped and looked intently on his cousin with the countenance of one who had been betrayed. "Did you know it already? Why would you not inform me?"

Having no desire to antagonize an unreasonable man she avoided answering. "Mr. Collins, how could I have presumed to know something of which you are ignorant?"

This statement displayed a suitable deference for his understanding and he credited Mary's influence. She had, in a very little time, made a marked improvement in her wayward sister. "Ah, of course, you judged very wisely, but now that I know it will be in my power to assure him that her ladyship was quite well yesterday se'nnight."

"Are you not afraid that a man of Mr. Darcy's standing will consider the service you perform as a courtesy an impertinent freedom? Should you not be first introduced?"

Moving wrong without being aware of it, her partner smiled. "I believe in a case such as this to neglect taking the opportunity of noticing the nephew of my patronness and giving him what news I can of his aunt and cousin would be unpardonable."

"Perhaps you are right but I had thought that if notice were to be made it would be Mr. Darcy, the superior in consequence, who would be expected to begin the acquaintance."

"But how can he do so when he does not know." Having jostled the neighbouring couple he here made a bow further impeding the dance and apologized before continuing, "My dear cousin, I am grateful for your concern but I am confident that I can be trusted to do what is right."

Mr. Collins continued the dance with the determined air of following his own inclination. This would have been distressing enough but as they moved through the figures he likewise gave her all the shame and misery which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. Elizabeth made no further attempts to dissuade him but listened to his prattle and made what comments were neccessary, sometimes reminding her partner of the next steps – when she could do so with subtlety. The moment of her release from him would have been eagerly anticipated did she not know of the humiliation that was to follow.

He soon found Mr. Darcy and it proved to be as absurd a pantomime as she had feared. Astonished, Mr. Darcy allowed her cousin to finish his speech before nodding coldly and walking away. Her cousin returned to their family party obviously pleased with his success. Behind him the gentleman he had just left spoke to Miss Bingley, she turned, observed the clergyman, then shared a laugh with her companion.

"I have no reason, I assure you," said he, "to be dissatisfied with my reception. Mr. Darcy seemed gratified by the attention. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him."

Elizabeth made no attempt to answer him. He did not appear to desire any for he turned immediately to her sister, describing his discovery and his interview in great detail. Mary, though nodding at Mr. Collins, peered over his shoulder to catch sight of the handsome Mr. Wickham. The rest of the evening brought Mary little amusement. She was teased by Mr. Collins, who continued most perseveringly by her side. In vain did she entreat him to stand up with somebody else. He assured her that, as to dancing, he was perfectly indifferent to it; that his chief object was, by delicate attentions, to recommend himself to her, and that he should therefore make a point of remaining close to her the whole evening. She believed this put it out of her power to dance with Mr. Wickham for he must be discouraged by the sight of her more eligible suitor.

She owed her greatest relief to Miss Lucas, who often joined them, and good-naturedly engaged Mr. Collins's conversation to herself. During these respites she stood apart and watched for her curate but he never came for her. She was satisfied in observing that aside from her sister, he danced with no one else. Mr. Wickham though often standing within a very short distance of her family party, quite disengaged, never came near enough to speak with any of them.

Elizabeth turned her attention to her sister and Mr. Bingley; and imagined her settled in that very house, in all the felicity which a marriage of true affection could bring. Her mother's thoughts she plainly saw were bent the same way. Mr. Bingley saw her look their way and soon afterwards approached her to request the next set. She enjoyed a very pleasant half hour of cheerful conversation and graceful dancing that served to erase some of the awkwardness of her previous partner.