More Discerning

Elizabeth's lips quirked as a quiet amusement danced in her eyes. Mr Bingley's company appeared to be relatively small. It consisted of his two sisters, and out of all the other reported gentlemen, only two appeared, one of mature years and married. The matrons of the ball only had themselves to blame, as this was what gossip could do. The families of Meryton were so hungry for new male prospects that they let their desires cloud what they had heard. The local four and twenty families just did not have enough sons to provide possible husbands for their daughters. Therefore, great disappointment was reflected on the faces at the assembly. She looked where her mother stood. Elizabeth could see she was quite indignant; she had such high hopes for her girls and this evening.

Elizabeth surveyed the newcomers with deliberate attention, as was her habit. She valiantly wanted to create her first impressions, but her eyes kept glancing at the tall, single gentleman of the group. The man's presence had a strange effect on the atmosphere in the room. He stood out not only by the nature of his height but also by his almost regal comportment. He stood in the back with his head held high; he appeared somewhat detached from his surroundings. The gentleman peered straight ahead, his gaze glancing coldly over the people. Not curious or reticent, but as if he had already decided that he could find nothing worthwhile there.

Arrogant, Elizabeth thought, but perhaps it was unfair. Perhaps he was just more reserved in nature. Not everyone seeks new company in an unfamiliar place. She could not ignore the prevalent whisperings either that he possessed an income of at least ten thousand a year and a grand estate in the north.

A flicker of discomfort crossed his face; he, too, must have overheard. Perhaps he was used to the effect, perhaps he was bored with the same whispering comments, but Elizabeth seemed also to detect a tinge of annoyance in him.

The gentleman only danced with the ladies of his group, in contrast to Mr Bingley, who seemed to enjoy himself immensely. Elizabeth followed them with her eyes, and while one of the men conversed with light movements and sincere gaiety, the other seemed to be playing a carefully composed part, his posture taut, his eyes scarcely lingering on anyone.

Does he really look down on us so much? – Elizabeth wondered.

Elizabeth, typically an impartial observer, found herself questioning the severity of judgment upon this man. It was true that he did not seem to enjoy himself, but he was there, probably in support of his friend. Maybe he did not like crowded places like her father. He had stopped attending assemblies altogether. She thought it admirable that, possibly against his inclination, he did his duty by his friend and the ladies of his group and danced with them.

If Elizabeth had been faithful to herself, she would have admitted to finding that this man had inexplicably attracted her gaze. He had a noble mien, a very handsome face, and deep brown ringlets of hair framed his perfect face in a dishevelled manner. He could have been made into a statue of the ideal male. Even his garments graced his body in perfect harmony, unlike most men, whose clothes always seemed too small for their figures. The coffee-brown tailcoat, cream waistcoat and snow-white cravat showed an impeccable elegance that could not tolerate any carelessness.

Elizabeth had always liked discovering people's natures and could not help looking for his gaze. What would his gaze reveal about him? A cold detachment, or perhaps something more, some secret, hidden feeling he had no intention of revealing?

There was something strange about him. Was his coldness more out of aloofness than contempt – or was it just the way she wanted to see it? She did not feel inclined to judge so quickly. Still, it was hard to take her eyes off him. She imagined that he might glance at her and halt in his tracks.

Well, the way it happened was not exactly how she imagined it.

She was obliged to sit out two dances as there was a scarcity of men at the assembly. She was used to it and permitted other ladies their turn, gracefully removing herself from the dance. She sat down. Mr Darcy – that was the gentleman's name – happened to stand close to her. She was about to continue her quiet observation of him when Mr Bingley approached the gentleman and coaxed him into dancing.

"I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable," said Mr Darcy in a low but firm voice.

This was the first time Elizabeth had heard him speak. She thought he had a pleasant, deep baritone voice that seemed well-suited to his imposing figure. So, the gentleman is a bit…reserved. She wondered why a man of the world would have trouble meeting new people. Any crippling disability called at her sympathy, however. He seemed to avoid everybody so that he did not have to converse with them. She wished the people at the assembly would notice that he was uncomfortable. That such a man would feel that dancing with strangers was such a burden made her want to help him. Probably, his handsome face had something to do with it, which she acknowledged with surprise.

She was mortified at how the scene played out eventually. Mr Bingley offered her to him as a dance partner. He was already indignant when he turned, and their eyes met for a moment. He immediately turned back as if burnt and said the harshest thing possible to her ears.

"She is tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt me…

This struck a chord with Elizabeth.

"I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."

Elizabeth's lips quivered a little. The pain lingered for a heartbeat, then hid behind a customary smile.

Tolerable…she repeated to herself. A simple word, a trivial remark, as if it were merely a matter of the weather or a lukewarm cup of tea. She herself seemed to fall into this mediocrity. She raised her chin slightly as if she had not heard it. In fact, she barely heard it – at least, that was what she would have told herself if there had been anyone to ask.

Bingley said something else, and Darcy replied, but Elizabeth stopped listening. She sensed that the cheerful indifference on her face was perhaps too carefully formed. No matter. If she played it well enough, she might believe it herself.

Elizabeth wanted to scream that she was sitting out the dance so that others could enjoy the dance also. She had been considerate! She just wanted to help the other ladies! Elizabeth was indignant to the heavens. She pretended not to mind, but her pride was shaken.

He walked away, and Elizabeth was left there reeling. This handsome gentleman had just rejected the opportunity to know her.

Maybe he said it out of embarrassment. Or perhaps he meant it. Not that it matters.

Still, that cold, superior look…

No, it doesn't matter.

Nevertheless, she had no friendly feelings towards him just then, her sympathy forgotten momentarily.

She endeavoured to laugh it off, though the sting was too near. All her life, she had been listening to her mother proclaiming that her beauty was nothing to Jane's, her elder sister. Mrs Gardiner, her aunt by marriage, tried to balance it by saying that she was just as beautiful and should not forget that Jane took after her mother. Of course, her mother would prefer that. Not to mention that Elizabeth was more like her Bennet grandmother. Her mother's relationship with the demanding, gentle-born matron was not the best.

It is always easier to believe the negative things, though; therefore, she always felt inferior regarding her looks. If a noble gentleman then proclaimed her only 'tolerable,' it would not be taken lightly.

She needed friendly consolation, so she stood and went to her best friend, Charlotte. Elizabeth told her what had just happened. She laughed, but it did not reach her eyes. Charlotte, ever observant, saw that Elizabeth was hurt and became indignant towards the gentleman for injuring her friend. She told her not to make too much of it, as he had not been in the best of moods after all; he had probably just lashed out at his friend. She acknowledged that he should have been more circumspect in his speech. Elizabeth felt justified hearing Charlotte's estimation of the arrogant comment.

The evening soon ended, and Mrs Bennet fanned herself with satisfaction, after all. She felt validated by the attentions bestowed on her daughters. In her opinion, no one was as well dressed and coiffed as her girls – well, maybe except the ladies from town. She was especially pleased about the attention paid to her eldest daughter by the Netherfield party. Mr Bingley, bless him, danced with her twice! She even told Mrs Lucas that they were the best thing that had happened to the neighbourhood. Truth be told, she already imagined wedding bells. She proudly looked at her eldest. She knew she was not beautiful for nothing.

The tenants of Netherfield had turned out to be a promising connection. Jane was flattered by the attention; only she was too modest to give it voice – her dear mother provided that. Loud was the journey back to Longbourn, as their mother reminisced over flowingly about the evening, and the two youngest also felt it their duty to announce every dance they danced, with whom, and how they enjoyed their conversations.

When they arrived home, Mr Bennet had to listen to all that transpired at the assembly, starting with the detailed description of the Netherfield party. By the end of the recitation, he regretted not going to bed while the house was empty.

The younger girls, Catherine ('Kitty' in the family) at seventeen and Lydia, barely out at the tender age of fifteen, immensely enjoyed events like the assembly. Although these were not frequent enough for their taste, their pleasure came from dancing most of the dances and being dressed in their new gowns. They were also happy for their eldest sister, Jane. She was their big sister, and if anybody deserved a suitor, it was her.

Elizabeth also celebrated Jane's success, as she was devoted to her. She knew very well that the opportunity to meet an eligible man was rare in the neighbourhood. She only hoped that their lack of dowries would not prove a hindrance.

When the two elder sisters finally found themselves alone in Jane's room, they further discussed the evening's events and their impressions. Jane, finally able to be herself, shared her thoughts about Mr Bingley and his sisters; however, she still expressed herself in ladylike understatements. She said that she found Mr Bingley everything a gentleman should be and that she admired his happy manners. She then talked about Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, how they had a pleasant conversation, and the sisters seemed genuinely interested in her.

Elizabeth did not share Jane's enthusiasm about the sisters. In her opinion, they were hugely overdressed for a country assembly, possibly with the intention of showing off. She found their sentiment inconsiderate and their actions arrogant. It was clear to her that the local female populace would either view them with awe or envy. She felt them petty that they would want to create these feelings in the ladies of the neighbourhood.

"I also have the feeling, Jane, that they asked so many questions from you because they wanted to know about whom they must deal with after their brother paid you considerable attention."

Jane just blinked at her sister's harsh judgement.

"Towards Mr Bingley, I feel favourably, if for nothing else but that he noticed you, my dear sister. He is a good dancer; he danced with me, too. I found him an exuberant, joyful spirit…but he did not make my heart beat faster."

Jane listened to Elizabeth because she often had good insights, so she promised herself to guard her heart towards the new acquaintances.

Elizabeth then told her sister about her unfortunate episode with Mr Darcy, although she was reluctant to share how much his insensitive comment hurt her. Jane could hardly believe that a friend of Mr Bingley could be so cruel! She was adamant that he could not possibly mean it. They examined his every expression and action in an effort to excuse him, concluding at last that he must have felt discomfort at the assembly, as every mother was whispering about his income. Still, they did not approve of his attitude to give offence just because he felt like it or because it was convenient. They wondered if such conduct was typical of a wealthy gentleman. At the same time, they also agreed that if he had chosen to dance with Elizabeth, their mother would have sung about a second marriage in the making.

"For the preservation of my own peace, I must concur with you. I hope we caught him in a bad mood. I should find it very disagreeable, indeed, that a gentleman like Mr Darcy would reject me out of hand. Let us see how he will behave in the future."

"I think you have the right of it, Sister, and may I say, it is rather magnanimous of you… I wonder how two gentlemen with hugely different temperaments could be such good friends. Mr Darcy, although older and a member of the first circle, has joined Mr Bingley to help him with his first attempt at learning about having an estate. I find that quite peculiar."

"Is that why he is here? Mr Darcy, I mean."

"Yes, Mr Bingley told me himself. He cannot be that arrogant if he has a friend whose fortune comes from trade, can he?"

"Well, that was a rather rational observation, Jane. I may have thought better of what you said and disregarded it because you never see the bad in anyone. This, however, I cannot dismiss. It is curious, indeed. I shall have to defer my judgement."