“Not excessively,” Elizabeth said. “Mr. Darcy required distraction, and I thought a foolish essay might suit.”
Miss Bingley arched a brow. “Foolish essays?”
“Only one in the volume. I warned him fairly.”
“And Mr. Darcy accepted such a recommendation?”
“I did,” Darcy said. “I found Miss Elizabeth’s reasoning persuasive.”
Miss Bingley’s gaze flickered between them. “And what reasoning was that?”
“That bad arguments may sharpen good thinking, if they are interestingly wrong.”
Hurst looked up. “That sounds like politics.”
“For once, Mr. Hurst,” Elizabeth said, “I cannot disagree.”
Hurst gave a short laugh and returned to his plate, apparently satisfied with his contribution.
Mrs. Hurst smiled faintly. “I should not like a book that wished me to argue before breakfast.”
“Nor should I, ordinarily,” Bingley said. “Before breakfast I prefer agreement. After breakfast I can perhaps be persuaded into mild opposition, if the subject is not too taxing.”
“You are wise,” Elizabeth said. “Nothing ruins digestion so quickly as a determined opinion too early in the day.”
Darcy felt the conversation settle into something lighter, and admired the ease with which she had guided it there. Miss Bingley’s attempt to expose her as provincial had only allowed Elizabeth to appear both sensible and amusing. Yet she had not humiliated her opponent. That, he thought, required more restraint than victory.
Miss Bingley, however, was not finished. “I suppose novels also have a place in this expansive education of yours?”
Elizabeth’s eyes brightened. “Only when they are entertaining.”
“How undemanding.”
“Not at all. To entertain well is very demanding. Many authors attempt it and fail.”
Darcy said, “Miss Elizabeth argued this morning that a novel honest in its intention may be preferable to a sermon chiefly interested in being admired for scolding.”
Bingley laughed. “An excellent argument. I have been scolded by sermons often enough and entertained by too few.”
Miss Bingley looked displeased by Darcy’s support, though she could hardly rebuke him for it. “Surely improvement must be the object of reading.”
“Must it be the only object?” Elizabeth asked. “A walk may improve health, but I do not think one wicked if one also enjoys the view.”
Darcy turned his glass slowly, watching her over the rim. “Then reading may delight and improve at once.”
“When the author is generous.”
“And when he is not?”
“Then one must take what one can and supply the rest by argument.”
He smiled. “You are very fond of argument.”
“I am fond of conversation that does not faint at the first sign of disagreement.”
Bingley looked between them with delighted bewilderment. “I should never keep pace with either of you, but I must say I enjoy watching the attempt.”
Elizabeth laughed. “That is because you are wise enough not to stand in the road when carriages are racing.”
