Elizabeth, though fully sensible of the nuances, could not entirely suppress a smile; and in the effort to command her countenance, found her composure somewhat less secure than she might have wished. She was conscious, too, that the observation had not wholly escaped notice; for Mr. Darcy’s expression, though unchanged, bore the faintest trace of amusement.
The conversation moved with greater ease. Lady Catherine, satisfied that the principal points had been settled, no longer pressed her authority unnecessarily, but allowed the discussion to take a more general course. The subject of the neighbourhood was introduced; its advantages, its society, and its improvements were considered in turn; and though her ladyship did not relinquish the direction of the whole, she permitted a degree of freedom which would earlier have been less easily obtained.
Anne de Bourgh, who had thus far borne little part in the conversation beyond the occasional civility demanded by her place at table, turned at length toward Elizabeth with an attention less timid than deliberate.
“You walk a great deal in Hertfordshire, do you not, Miss Bennet?” she asked, her voice quiet, though sufficiently distinct to draw the notice of the table. “My cousin once observed that the country near Meryton is particularly suited to walking.”
Elizabeth, somewhat surprised to find herself so directly addressed by Miss de Bourgh, answered with easy readiness.
“Indeed we do. As there are few large parks in our neighborhood, we are obliged to seek our amusement less ceremoniously. The lanes and fields must answer for what finer grounds might otherwise provide.”
“There is perhaps more variety in that,” Anne replied after a moment. “One sees more than avenues and managed prospects.”
Lady Catherine’s eyes shifted briefly toward her daughter, as though uncertain whether the remark tended toward approval or criticism of Rosings itself.
“It is true,” Elizabeth said, encouraged by finding in Miss de Bourgh a degree of observation she had not expected, “that a country walk loses something when every turn has been too carefully anticipated. I have always thought a lane more pleasing when one cannot perfectly guess what lies beyond it.”
Lady Catherine adjusted herself slightly in her chair.
“Improvement,” said she, “is not generally achieved by leaving land to chance, Miss Bennet. Natural beauty may be very well in its place, but without regulation there can be no lasting elegance.”
“The assemblies in our neighborhood may lack something of the elegance to be found at Rosings,” Elizabeth observed, turning toward her ladyship with a composure which neither retreated nor provoked, “yet I have often believed smaller societies possess advantages of their own. Pretensions are not so easily maintained where everybody knows everybody else.”
Lady Catherine regarded her steadily over the rim of her glass.
“Acquaintance is not always desirable. In smaller societies, people are too often left to form themselves without proper direction.Without some degree of order, people soon grow careless in their habits. There must be consistency somewhere, or there can be no refinement.”
“It is true that we are less formal,” Elizabeth replied, her smile softened though not subdued, “but I do not know that good humor and good sense depend entirely upon formality. Our neighbours are not always alike in manner, yet they are seldom deficient in conversation.”
A faint stillness followed this observation. Lady Catherine looked anxious for a moment; Mr. Collins appeared delighted without precisely knowing why; while Mr. Bennet, seated at sufficient distance to observe without interfering, concealed his amusement beneath an expression of perfect composure.
Beside Lady Catherine, Anne de Bourgh lowered her gaze briefly toward her plate, though not before Elizabeth detected what appeared very nearly the beginning of a smile.
“There is much to recommend Hertfordshire besides its society, from all that I have heard,” Darcy remarked after a pause, his tone even and unstudied. He addressed the table generally, though Elizabeth could not wholly persuade herself that the observation had been accidental. “It is said the country itself possesses considerable beauty. I remember the grounds near Meryton to be particularly pleasing. The woods there have been allowed a happier freedom than in many finer estates.”
Elizabeth felt a warmth of gratitude she could scarcely suppress. By praising the country rather than defending her directly, he had supported her observations without seeming to oppose his aunt.
“The lanes are especially beautiful in autumn,” she replied, turning toward him with renewed animation. “The country alters so gently as one walks that the road never grows tiresome.”
“That is not always the case in more admired counties,” Darcy returned quietly.
Lady Catherine, though evidently unconvinced that Hertfordshire could rival Kent in any material respect, appeared willing—for the present—to tolerate enthusiasm expressed with moderation and supported, however indirectly, by her nephew’s judgment.
Mr. Bennet, with the calm observation natural to him, thought that Elizabeth had rarely appeared to greater advantage; while Mr. Darcy, without seeming to attend particularly to her conversation, had in fact attended to very little else.
It was in one such moment, when Elizabeth had been describing the variety of their assemblies, that their eyes again met. The look was fleeting, yet not without acknowledgment; and though both turned away almost immediately, neither did so without a consciousness that the exchange had been understood.
Miss de Bourgh, who had hitherto spoken little, was not inattentive. There was in her manner a restrained curiosity which suggested that the evening, however governed by form, was not without its personal significance. When she addressed Elizabeth, it was with a gentleness which had gained something of confidence.
“You must find our situation very different from your own, Miss Bennet,” Anne said. “We have less variety—but perhaps not less quiet.”
“There is much to recommend quiet,” Elizabeth replied, with a sincerity which surprised even herself; “particularly when it is chosen, and not imposed.”
Miss de Bourgh received this with a look of understanding which required no further explanation.
Lady Catherine, though she did not immediately comment, appeared not displeased.
“Quiet,” she said, after a pause, “is often undervalued by those who have not been accustomed to it. It is not incompatible with society—when properly regulated.”
