Austen Said:

“You shall hear then — but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball — and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances! I am sorry to pain you — but so it was. He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact.”

“True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.”

“Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?”

“Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?”

“My fingers,”

“do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault — because I will not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman's of superior execution.”

he might have been just as likely to marry her, had she been his relation.

“How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London?”

“I think I have understood that

“If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we might possibly get a settled family there. But, perhaps, Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to keep it or quit it on the same principle.”

“I believe she did — and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object.”

“Yes, indeed, his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding — though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light it is certainly a very good match for her.”

“An easy distance, do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles.”

“I should never have considered the distance as one of the advantages of the match,” cried Elizabeth. "I should never have said Mrs. Collins was settled near her family.”

he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane and Netherfield,

“I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expenses of travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the case here. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent journeys — and I am persuaded my friend would not call herself near her family under less than half the present distance.”

there was less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners,

he might have the best informed mind.

all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought,

it was a favourite haunt of hers.

How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even a third.

It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her.

he was asking some odd unconnected questions — about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins's happiness;

of Rosings and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too.

His words seemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts?

if he meant anything, he must mean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter.

“I did not know before that you ever walked this way.”

“No, I should have turned in a moment.”

“Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?”

“And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least pleasure in the great power of choice. I do not know anybody who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy.”

“In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very little of either. Now seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial and dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going wherever you chose, or procuring anything you had a fancy for?”

“Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very often do.”

“Is this,”

“meant for me?”

“and pray, what is the usual price of an earl's younger son? Unless the elder brother is very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds.”

To interrupt a silence which might make him fancy her affected with what had passed,

“I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of having someone at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure a lasting convenience of that kind. But, perhaps, his sister does as well for the present, and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what he likes with her.”

“Are you indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you make? Does your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage, and if she has the true Darcy spirit, she may like to have her own way.”

she had somehow or other got pretty near the truth.

“You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and I dare say she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. She is a very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that you know them.”

“Oh! yes,”

“Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr. Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.”

“What is it you mean?”

“You may depend upon my not mentioning it.”

“Did Mr. Darcy give you reasons for this interference?”

“And what arts did he use to separate them?”

“I am thinking of what you have been telling me,”

“Your cousin's conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the judge?”

“I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the propriety of his friend's inclination, or why, upon his own judgement alone, he was to determine and direct in what manner his friend was to be happy. But,”

“as we know none of the particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed that there was much affection in the case.”