s
of the family impossible. Mrs. Bennet was intolerably stupid and
tedious; Mary, who, being the only plain member of her family, piqued
herself on the extent of her reading and the solidity of her
reflections, was a platitudinous moralist; while Lydia and Kitty were
loud, silly, giggling girls, who spent all their time in running after
men. As for Mr. Darcy, the indifference he at first felt to Elizabeth
Bennet was gradually converted into a sort of guarded interest.
Originally he had scarcely allowed her to be pretty, but now he admired
the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded
some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected more than one
failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge
her figure to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that
her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by
their easy playfulness. He began to wish to know more of her, and, as a
step towards conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation
with others, while, since both he and she were of a satirical turn, they
soon began to exchange little rallying, challenging speeches, so that
Caroline Bingley, who was openly angling for Darcy herself, said to him
one night: "How long has Miss Elizabeth Bennet been such a favourite?
And pray when am I to wish you joy?" To which remarks he merely replied:
"That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady's
imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love
to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy."

Meantime, the friendship subsisting between the two families was
advanced by a visit of some days paid by the two Bennet sisters to the
Bingleys, at whose house Jane, thanks to her mother's scheming, was laid
up with a bad cold. On this occasion Jane was coddled and made much of
by her dear friends Caroline and Mrs. Hurst; but Elizabeth was now
reckoned too attractive by one sister, and condemned as too
sharp-tongued by both.

"Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, "is
one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other
sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it
succeeds. But in my opinion it is a very mean art."

"Undoubtedly," replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed,
"there is meanness in _all_ the arts which ladies sometimes condescend
to employ for captiva