"It had pretensions beyond its station.”
Jane smiled into her teacup. "And are you intending to come down, or do you mean to remain here and wage war upon your bonnet until luncheon?”
Elizabeth pulled the ribbon rather tighter than necessary. "I am coming.”
"You need not be afraid of Mr Darcy.”
"I am not afraid of Mr Darcy.”
"No, dearest, I know you are not. But you are angry with him, and it is a fruitless endeavour to hold onto it forever.”
"I find it very convenient indeed.”
Jane only looked at her with a tenderness Elizabeth did not at all deserve, then went downstairs ahead of her.
By the time Elizabeth followed, the house was already awake. She could hear Mrs Makepeace giving directions somewhere below. From the small upstairs parlour came her mother’s voice, brighter than it had been at Longbourn for many months, though not restored to its old ungoverned pitch. It rose and fell in conversation with Miss Darcy’s softer replies.
The breakfast-room lay downstairs at the front of the house, across a narrow passage where the morning light entered from a window overlooking the street. Elizabeth was almost at the doorwhen she heard Mr Bingley’s voice within and slowed without meaning to.
"I know very well that I sound ridiculous, Darcy, and I would be obliged if you would not look as though you had discovered it before I did. I am perfectly aware of my own absurdity. I have been aware of it since yesterday afternoon, when Miss Bennet observed that the colour of the sea had altered with the clouds and I found myself prepared to listen to her upon the subject for the rest of my natural life.”
Elizabeth smiled.
Mr Darcy said something too low for her to catch.
"No, no, you may laugh, but I assure you I am in earnest. I have met beautiful women before. I have admired them. I have danced with them, talked with them, thought myself very much in love with them for an evening, or perhaps two. You need not remind me of Miss Fortescue, for I see her name forming already in your mind, and I tell you in advance that she has nothing to do with it. Miss Fortescue had a very pleasing face and a horrid laugh, which I did not discover until too late. Miss Bennet has the most beautiful face and the sweetest laugh in the world, and if there is any justice in the arrangement of human happiness, that distinction must signify something.”
"It signifies,” said Darcy, with dry amusement, "that you have grown more discriminating in the matter of laughter.”
"Exactly so. I knew you would understand me if you made the effort.”
"I understand that you have known Miss Bennet a very short time.”
"A short time may be very instructive if properly employed. I have spoken with her every day. I have walked with her, taken tea with her, listened to her speak to Mrs Bennet, to Miss Darcy, to Mrs Makepeace. Miss Bennet never appears unkind or hurried. That is what astonishes me. She is not merely polite, or pretty, or agreeable in the usual way. She has a goodness that seems to move ahead of her and charm every living creature in her wake."
Elizabeth’s smile softened. She knew precisely what he meant, and loved him a little for seeing it.
Darcy was silent for a moment before answering. "Miss Bennet is indeed a woman of uncommon sweetness.”
"There,” cried Bingley, with delight. "That is something. I had expected a lecture and have received a compliment. Shall I sit down? I feel the shock of it.”
"You are already sitting.”
"Then I shall remain seated, which will serve the same purpose. But you do approve of her?”
"I have said that I esteem her.”
"That is not the same thing. You esteem a well-built stable. You esteem a punctual steward. You esteem neat handwriting. I am asking whether you approve of Miss Bennet as a woman a man might love and build a life with.”
"There are worse ways for a man to employ himself.”
"Darcy!”
"I am not opposing you.”
"You are preparing to oppose me.”
Darcy gave a low laugh, and despite herself Elizabeth remained where she was. It was not honourable to listen. Yet there was something so open and artless in Mr Bingley’s affection for Jane, and something so unexpectedly gentle in Mr Darcy’s replies, that she could not immediately force herself to interrupt them.
