Part I

  Chapter 1

  A new neighbor

  It is a well-known fact that a single man with a plenty of money must be in need of a wife. He may not know this, but neighbors with unmarried daughters are quite sure of it. So imagine the arrival in a neighborhood of a man who is single, rich and young. Imagine its effect on Mrs. Bennet who has four unmarried daughters.

  “My dear Mr. Bennet,” she said one day, “Netherfield Hall has been let at last.”

  Mr. Bennet continued to read his newspaper.

  “Don’t you want to know who’s taken it?”

  “You’re determined to tell me, and I’m ready to hear you,” he said.

  “Well, then, it’s been taken by a rich young man called Bingley,” she said excitedly.

  “Is he married or single?”

  “Why single, my dear, and with 5000 pounds a year. What a fine thing for our girls.”

  “Indeed, and how can it affect them?”

  “My dear Mr. Bennet, how can you be so annoying? You must know that I’m hoping he’ll marry one of them.”

  “Is that his intention in settling here?”

  “Intention? Nonsense,” exclaimed his wife. “But it’s surely quite likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and so you must visit him.”

  Mr. Bennet returned to his paper. “I don’t see the need. You and the girls can go. I’ll write him a note to say that I agree to his marrying whichever of the girls he chooses. Though perhaps I ought to recommend Elizabeth to him. They are all silly girls, but she has a little more sense than her sisters.”

  Mrs. Bennet complained that it was impossible for her to call on a single gentleman. But her husband wouldn’t agree to visit Mr. Bingley. He was a strange mixture of clever jokes and long silences. Even after twenty-three years of marriage she didn’t understand him or his jokes. But, then, she was not as clever or educated as him. She was also easily upset. Her one aim in life was to find husbands for her daughters – Jane, Elizabeth, Catherine and Lydia. Her pleasures were visiting, talking and clothes.

  Mr. Bennet was one of the first to visit Mr. Bingley the next morning. He had always intended to go, but he had been determined not to tell his wife. Nor did he tell her after his return. But as he sat with his family that evening he talked continually of dances, of Mr. Bingley, of introductions. At last his wife could bear it no longer.

  “I’m tired of Mr. Bingley! I don’t ever want to hear his name again,” she said.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” her husband replied. “But why didn’t you tell me before? If I’d known this morning I wouldn’t have called on him. But since I have, we can’t now escape knowing him.”

  Mrs. Bennet’s joy can be imagined. But her husband didn’t stay to observe it. Nor could she find out from him what Mr. Bingley was like. For this, annoying though it was, she had to go to her friend and neighbor, Lady Lucas. From her she learnt that he was good-looking, charming and fond of dancing. And that was not all. He planned to attend the next public dance in the nearby town of Meryton with a party of family and friends.

          

  Chapter 2

  The dance and after 

        The Bennets were not rich, but they lived comfortably with servants at Longbourn, their house in the country. Mr. Bennet received 2000 pounds a year in rent from his land, and his wife had a little money of her own.

  However, the situation was worse than it seemed because of a lawyer’s agreement, made years before by Mr. Bennet’s grandfather. Since Mr. Bennet had no son, the property, when he died, would pass to a distant cousin. His daughters would have nothing unless they married. This explains the great hopes of Mrs. Bennet.

  So when Bingley left for London she was alarmed. Was he not coming to the dance, then? Her friend, Lady Lucas, calmed her. He had only gone, she said, to gather a party for the dance. The next report was that he was bringing twelve ladies – bad news for the ladies of Meryton. But he finally arrived at the dance with only four other people: his two sisters, the husband of one of them, a Mr. Hurst – and another gentleman.

  Mr. Bingley was certainly good-looking and very friendly. But his companion, Mr. Darcy, attracted more attention. He was not only better-looking, but also (as people said) had 10000 pounds a year. At first people admired him. But then they noticed he was proud. He danced once  with each of  Bingley’s sisters, but showed no interest in any other ladies. How different from Mr. Bingley who danced every dance and made himself popular with everybody – and particular with Mrs. Bennet. For he danced with her elder daughter, Jane, not just once, but twice.

  Her sister, Elizabeth, was not so lucky. Because there were not enough gentlemen she had to sit down for two dances. During this time Mr. Bingley left the dance-floor to speak to Darcy, who was standing near.

  “Why aren’t you dancing?” he asked. “I’ve never seen so many attractive girls in all my life.”

  “You’re already dancing with the only really attractive one,” Darcy replied, looking towards Jane.

  “That may be true,” said Bingley, “but one of her sisters sitting just behind you is also very pretty.”

  Darcy turned. “Bearable,” he said, “but why should I dance with a girl nobody else wants to dance with?”

  When his family arrived home, Mr. Bennet had to listen to his wife describing every lady’s dress who Mr. Bingley had danced with dance by dance. “If only,” he said, “he’d broken his leg in the first dance!”

  But Mr. Bennet just had to mention Mr. Darcy. “You should have seen him standing there alone, thinking himself so important. ‘Bearable’, indeed!” 

  Next morning, Jane expressed her surprise at Bingley asking her to dance a second time.

  “It was no surprise to me, since you were by far the prettiest girl in the room,” replied Elizabeth. “He seems very pleasant. You’ve liked worse men.”

  “Dear Lizzy, you shouldn’t say such things.”

  “It’s true,” said Elizabeth, “you have such good sense, but you don’t seem to see people’s faults. Do you like his sisters?”

  “They’re very pleasant, when you talk to them.”

  Elizabeth had talked to them, and didn’t agree.

  They were fashionable London ladies who could be charming when they liked. But they were proud. They looked down on the country society of Meryton.

  A week after Elizabeth talked about Jane to Charlotte Lucas, her closest friend. Mr. Bingley’s admiration for Jane was growing. Jane liked him too. But as usual she hid her feelings under the same cheerful friendliness that she showed to everyone.

  “A woman may often want to hide her feelings for a man,” said Charlotte, “to stop people talking. But if she hides them too well, she’ll lose him.”

  “But Mr. Bingley must see that Jane likes him.”

  “He doesn’t know her like you. She should try harder to attract him. Then, when she is sure of him, there’ll be time enough to fall in love with him.”

  “That may be a good plan for a girl who only wants to get married,” Elizabeth said. “But Jane isn’t like that. She’d never marry somebody she didn’t love. Just now she doesn’t know him, or her own feelings.”

  “I don’t think one can know a man before marriage, and it’s better that way. If people knew all about the person they were going to marry, they wouldn’t do it.”

  “You say that,” said Elizabeth, laughing, “but you know you’d never act like that yourself.”

  But while Elizabeth was twenty, Charlotte was twenty-eight, and like her friend had little money to expect from her family. And also she was not so pretty. She sometimes felt she was getting too old to find a husband.

  From that time Elizabeth watched her sister and Mr. Bingley closely. Perhaps because of this she hardly noticed that someone was watching her. But one evening at a party at the Lucas’s house it became quite clear. Whoever she spoke to, Mr. Darcy was always near.

  “What does he mean by listening to my conversation?” she said to Charlotte. “If he continues, I’ll let him know what I think. He’s listening for things he can make joke about with Mr. Bingley’s sisters.”

  The truth was different. As Darcy saw more of  Elizabeth, his ideas began to change: she might not be exactly beautiful, but she had nice eyes. As for her conversation, it was not like fashionable London talk. But there was something very attractive in her easy, laughing manner. Later that evening, as he was talking to Sir William Lucas, she happened to pass by.

  “Miss Eliza,” said Sir William to Elizabeth, “you’re not dancing. Mr. Darcy, you can’t refuse.” He took her hand to give to Darcy. He, though surprised, was very willing to take it. But she pulled it away.

  “Please, Sir William,” she said, “I don’t want to dance. Mr. Darcy is only being polite.”

  “This is hardly politeness,” Sir William said, “for who would refuse a chance to dance with Miss Bennet?”

  Elizabeth smiled as she remembered another time and moved away. Sir William also walked off leaving Darcy looking thoughtful. Just then Miss Bingley came up. “I think I can guess what you are thinking,” she said. “You are thinking how unpleasant it would be to spend many evenings in this kind of company.”

  “You are quite wrong,” said Darcy. “I was actually thinking how attractive a certain young woman is.”

  “Indeed?” said Miss Bingley in a softer voice. She smiled and looked into his eyes. “And who is she?”

  “Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

  “Miss Elizabeth Bennet? I’m astonished. How long has she been a favourite? When’s the wedding to be?”

  “That’s exactly what I expected you to say,” said Darcy. “A lady’s thought jumps straight from admiration to love, and from love to marriage.” 
 
 

  Chapter 3

  Mrs. Bennet’s good idea 

  One morning a few days later, a servant arrived at Longbourn with a letter for Jane.

  “Well, Jane, who’s it from? What’s it about? Tell us, my dear,” cried Mrs. Bennet impatiently.

  “It’s from Miss Bingley,” Jane replied. “The gentlemen are going out to dinner with the officers from the regiment that has its camp at Meryton, and she asks if I can have dinner with her and her sister. Can I take a carriage?”

  “No, my dear,” said her mother, who was disappointed that Jane would not see Mr. Bingley. “You’d better take a horse. It seems quite likely to rain, and then they’d have to ask you to stay the night.”

  Jane did not like this idea, or the reason for it. But since her father said that the carriage horses were needed on the land that day, she had to go on horseback.

  In fact, Mrs. Bennet’s plan succeeded all too well. Soon after Jane left it began to rain so heavily that she arrived quite wet. It went on all the evening and she did not return. But when next morning a note arrived to say that she was ill in bed, Mrs. Bennet’s plan did not seem so clever. Elizabeth was worried and decided to walk to Netherfield to find out how she was, even though her mother was against it.

  “What will they think when you arrive with mud on your shoes and stockings?” she cried.

  When she arrived at Netherfield the whole company, exept for her sister, were still at breakfast. Bingley’s sisters received her politely, but she felt that they looked down on her for walking across muddy fields. Her shoes and stockings were dirty, and her hair was blown by the wind. But the exercise had given life and color to her face, and the gentlemen noticed this, and not the dirty shoes.

  Jane was not well, and did not improve during the morning. So Elizabeth was grateful when Mr. Bingley asked her to spend the night at Netherfield too. After dinner, as soon as she went to sit by Jane, Bingley’s sisters began to talk about her: about her manners, her conversation, her ideas, her clothes – none of which pleased the ladies of Netherfield. Only Jane, among all the Bennets, was good enough to praise.

  “She’s a very sweet girl,” said Mrs. Hurst, “and I wish with all my heart she could find a good husband. But with such a family and no money there’s little chance of it. Her mother has no sense at all.”

  “You should meet the uncle and the aunt in Meryton,” laughed Miss Bingley.

  “And they’ve another uncle who is a merchant in London,” said Mrs. Hurst.

  “If they had twenty uncles like that, it wouldn’t make the Miss Bennets any less attractive,” said Bingley, who was not happy with this talk.

  “True,” said Darcy, “but it must still make it more difficult for them to marry men with good position in the world.” Bingley was silent, but his sisters continued to amuse themselves with their friend’s relations for some time. 

  Later that evening while Darcy was writing a letter Miss Bingley was trying to make him to talk to her.

  “How happy your sister will be to receive a letter from you!” she said. But Darcy went on writing.

  “How very fast you write!”

  “You’re mistaken. I write very slowly.”

  “Please tell your sister that I long to see her.”

  “You asked me before, and I’ve already done so.”

  Just then Elizabeth entered the room. She had thought it only polite to join the company, and not sit with her sister all the time.

  “Miss Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Bingley as soon as she appeared, “let’s take a walk to the window. We can see if it’s still raining.”

  Elizabeth was surprised by this show of friendship, but after they had walked up and down several times she understood the reason. Miss Bingley was trying to attract Darcy’s attention – and he did look up. Though who could say whether his eye was caught by Miss Bingley or Miss Bennet. In any case, it was enough for Miss Bingley to invite him to join them. But he shook his head and said: “There can be only two reasons for walking up and down like that. It’s better if I stay here.”

  “What can he mean?” Miss Bingley said.

  “Why, he means to laugh at us,” said Elizabeth, “and the best way to prevent him is not ask what he means.” But Miss Bingley had to ask, for she could not disappoint Darcy in anything.

  “You are walking up and down,” Darcy explained, “either because you have secrets to discuss, or because you want me to admire you. But if the first is true, you can’t really want me; and if the second is true, I can see you much better from here.”

  “Oh!” cried Miss Bingley. “How shall we punish him for such a speech?”

  “Surely it’s easy for someone like you who knows all his faults,” said Elizabeth. “Laugh at him.”

  “Mr. Darcy has no faults. He’s not to be laughed at.”

  “Not to be laughed at! That’s a very unusual advantage, and I hope it remains unusual. I wouldn’t want to know many people like that,” said Elizabeth.

  “Miss Bingley’s too kind,” said Darcy. “I have my faults. I only try to avoid the foolish ones.”

  “Such as pride?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Pride may be a fault in someone who has nothing to be proud about,” he said. Elizabeth smiled. Turning to Miss Bingley she said: “If pride is no fault, he has no faults.”

  “But I have,” said Darcy. “For example, I find it hard to forgive people once I lose my good opinion of them. My dislikes are strong. That’s surely a fault.”

  “Hatred is a fault. Oh, yes. Hatred is a good fault to choose. I can’t laugh at that.”

  “Everyone has some fault like that,” said Darcy.

  “And yours, you say, is a readiness to hate people.”

  “And yours is wanting to misunderstand them. Or might I call it prejudice?”

  At this point Miss Bingley grew tired of a conversation which she was not sharing in. “Let’s have some music,” she said, moving to the piano. Darcy followed her. He began to feel the danger of paying too much attention to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  The next day Jane was a little better. Although both Mr Bingley and her mother wanted her to stay, she decided to go home. Elizabeth agreed. Both for the ladies of Netherfield and for herself the visit had been long enough. 

  Chapter 4

  A visitor 

    Some days later, while the Bennet family was having breakfast, Mr. Bennet produced another little surprise.

  “I hope,” he said to his wife, “you’ve planned a good dinner today, as I’m expecting a guest.” – “Who do you mean, my dear? I don’t expect anybody today – unless perhaps Charlotte Lucas stays. And I know my dinners are better than any she has at home.”

  “The person I mean is a gentleman, and I’ve never seen him before in my life.” This news produced all the excitement that Mr. Bennet had hoped for. “Some weeks ago I received a letter from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, as you know, will become the owner of Longbourn when I die.” – “Oh, that man!” cried Mrs. Bennet. “I can’t bear to hear his name. Why does the low allow him to do this to us?” She continued her loud complaints on his favorite subject of hers for some time, while her daughters tried to calm her.