Posted on: 2008-08-09
From Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 10:
"You appear to me, Mr Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make one readily yield to a request without waiting for arguments to reason one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Mr Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance occurs before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and friend, where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?"
"Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties?"
"By all means," cried Bingley, "let us hear all the particulars, not forgetting their comparative height and size; for that will have more weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure you that, if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, when he has nothing to do."
Mr Darcy smiled, but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was rather offended, and therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her brother for talking such nonsense.
"I see your design, Bingley," said his friend. "You dislike an argument, and want to silence this."
"Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room I shall be very thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me."
"What you ask," said Elizabeth, "is no sacrifice on my side, and Mr Darcy had much better finish his letter."
Mr Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter.
Later that evening, as Mr Bingley was enjoying a glass of port in the drawing room, his mind went back to their earlier conversation; in particular, the remark he had made about his friend.
Bingley was an honest man, and in all fairness to Darcy, he had to admit that his words had not quite rung true. Of course there was some truth to the jibe---Bingley was a gentleman, and not at all in the habit of lying outright about another man, particularly his closest friend. But the fact remained that his careless words did not paint a faithful portrait of Mr Darcy, and might give the others present---like Miss Elizabeth---the wrong idea about him. Goodness, anyone might think Darcy to be the most disagreeable man that ever lived, by his account. This was not at all the case, to be sure; Bingley knew Darcy to be a kind, generous, and loyal friend; as well as a man of honour.
Furthermore, Bingley reflected, he had been rather specific in his remark, saying that Darcy was not good company on a Sunday night, in his own house, with nothing to do. Whatever had possessed him to say such a thoughtless thing? To be sure, he had not actually been in Darcy's company in such a particular situation very often---certainly not often enough to make such a generalization, even if it had been true.
He sighed. Darcy's remarks about him had been true---he undoubtedly did write very carelessly, and, as he now saw, he often spoke too carelessly as well.
However, Bingley was not of a disposition to dwell on the negative for very long, and the remorse he felt soon faded into reflections of the instance that had inspired his words. He distinctly remembered one Sunday night when Darcy had been rather bad-tempered. It was the previous summer when he, Caroline, and the Hursts had visited Darcy at Pemberley...
Returning from church in the Darcys' carriage that morning, Caroline chatted with Miss Darcy---or rather, she prattled on about the latest fashions, while her companion made curt but civil replies. Darcy was more taciturn than usual, speaking barely a word to anyone beyond the necessities of propriety and every now and then staring morosely into the distance. The only time Hurst spoke was to enquire about the day's menu.
These things Bingley noticed, and he thought to himself that theirs was not a very pleasant party at present. If anything of consequence was said, though, he was oblivious to it, being occupied with daydreams of the lovely Miss Steane, with whom he had lately been in company during his stay in London.
Soon after they arrived back at the house, luncheon was served. Following the meal, Darcy excused himself, saying that he had a matter of estate business to attend to.
"Of course. By all means, do not let us keep you from your work," Bingley said.
Caroline was quick to add, "Oh! Yes, I am sure you must have a great many responsibilities as the master of Pemberley. I would not keep you from such an important matter. But let me persuade you to join me in the gardens in an hour or so---I imagine it must be a rather tedious occupation."
Bingley smirked as he observed Darcy struggle to form a civil response and refrain from rolling his eyes.
"I thank you for the invitation, Miss Bingley, but I believe this matter must be settled in one session, and I know not how much time it may require."
"I see," replied Caroline, taking no pains to hide the fact that she was put off at this circumstance.
He then took his leave of them and was not seen again until nearly three hours later.
Bingley was engaged in conversation with Miss Darcy, attempting, rather unsuccessfully, to draw her out, when Darcy entered the sitting room where they were assembled.
After enquiring about her recent stay at Ramsgate, Bingley said, "Are you truly well, Miss Darcy? You look very pale." He leaned closer to examine her wan complexion.
Miss Darcy began to assure her companion that she was not feeling ill but was interrupted by her overbearing brother.
The two were rather closely situated on the settee, and from Darcy's view, Bingley appeared to be making improper advances to Miss Darcy.
"Good God, Bingley!" cried Darcy. "Remove yourself from my sister's presence at once!"
At Darcy's outburst the two looked up in startled confusion. Bingley rose to face Darcy and stared wonderingly. "Whatever is the matter, Darcy?"
"You looked like---you were about to---to---you---she---" he faltered, knowing not how to explain.
The sight of Bingley struggling to restrain laughter provoked Darcy's anger again. "You were seated much too close together!" he snapped.
"Were we indeed?" Bingley asked, amused. Darcy's murderous glare never wavered. "Very well, I will be sure to keep that in mind on future occasions."
Hesitantly, Miss Darcy gathered her courage and addressed her brother. "William, I assure you---Mr Bingley has done nothing improper. "
"I cannot be certain," he replied coldly. With that, he took his sister by the arm and nearly dragged her across the room---away from Bingley.
Caroline and Louisa, who had watched the exchange with amazement, shared another incredulous look.
The remainder of the afternoon passed none too quickly. Darcy's heated remarks had created a palpable tension in the room.
But before the dinner hour came, Darcy seemed to remember his obligations as a host---and friend---and, by way of an apology, spoke to Bingley, asking whether he would not take pleasure in a ride to Lambton before it grew dark.
Bingley's surprise was evident in his countenance, but he replied with calm composure that the excursion would be agreeable to him.
The party shared a light meal---which, by Pemberley's standards, was nothing meagre---and it seemed to enrich everyone's spirits. However, the improvement was not to last any length of time. As the party began to move from the dining room, Miss Darcy went over to one of the windows. Her eyes widening as she took in the view, she glanced nervously at her brother before announcing that there was a great storm brewing.
Immediately Darcy joined his sister at the window to verify the truth of her words. A single glance was enough. The sky had grown uncharacteristically dark and rain fell in heavy torrents. There was no mistaking that Darcy would be unable to ride that day.
"No!" he gasped. "I cannot ride in this!" After a moment Darcy turned to face the rest of the party with a blank look.
"To be sure, these storms are dreadfully inconvenient---" began Caroline, attempting to sympathize with Darcy.
Her words had no effect on their intended object. Darcy's former flare of fury returned, and he swore under his breath before storming out of the room yelling "I HAVE NOTHING TO DO!"
Just then, Darcy strode into the drawing room at Netherfield. When Bingley looked up and saw his friend---the image of said gentleman at Pemberley still in the forefront of his mind---he burst out laughing uncontrollably.
"What?" asked Darcy, looking quite confused.