Chapter 1

 

 

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of intimate male companionship.

However little known are the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighborhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of someone or other of their sons.

"My dear Mr. Bennet," said his lady to him one day, as she approached him from the far side of the manor's front porch on which Mr. Bennet currently sat, "have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"

Mr. Bennet replied that he had not; as he struck a wooden match and placed it in the bowl of his pipe and began to puff away. For he was not very much entertained by the matter of Netherfield Park or the circumstance of it being let or not. As he leaned back in his chair the smoke from his pipe ringed his head, the gray smoke blending with his graying hair and making more notable the patches that were still black, reveling that he had once possessed a head of black shiny hair when he was once young. Mr. Bennet turned back to his wife and continued to listen to what she found to be an exciting revelation in local events.

"But it is," returned she; "for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it."

Mr. Bennet made no answer as he pulled the stem of the pipe from his mouth and exhaled.

"Do you not want to know who has taken it?" cried his wife impatiently.

"No my dear, but you want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it." This was invitation enough for Mrs. Bennet.

"Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week."

"What is his name?" asked Mr. Bennet.

"Bingley."

"Is he married or single?" inquired Mr. Bennet as he placed the stem of his pipe back between his teeth.

"Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune, four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our sons!" Mrs. Bennet replied with expression.

"How so? How can it affect them?"

"My dear Mr. Bennet," replied his wife, "how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them."

"Is that his design in settling here?" puzzled Mr. Bennet as he rubbed his chin.

"Design! Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes," announced Mrs. Bennet.

"I see no occasion for that. You and the boys may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley may like you the best of the party," teased Mr. Bennet.

"My dear, you flatter me. I certainly have had my share of beauty, but I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has five grown-up sons, she ought to give over thinking of her own self."

"But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into the neighborhood."

"It is more than I engage for, I assure you."

"But consider your sons. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you know, they visit no newcomers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him if you do not," she pleaded. "This is the best opportunity for one of them to acquirer a stable future for them and the family. We women have our place, but we are not for everyone, and our five daughters have taken their places to carry on the family linage. Ours sons will find a way to do the same as have others in these pairings. But the truth remains only a young man is in tune enough to understand another alike."

"You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying whichever he chooses of the boys. Even considering I am one that remains divided by these arrangements. Though I will, I must throw in a good word for my Eliazar."

"I desire you will do no such thing. Eliazar is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure he is not half so handsome as Jakkios, nor half so good-humored as Lydios. But you are always giving him the preference," protested Mrs. Bennet.

"They have none of them much to recommend them," replied he; "they are all silly and ignorant like other young men; but Eliazar has something more of quickness than his brothers," answered Mr. Bennet.

"Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves."

"You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least."

"Ah, you do not know what I suffer," she sighed

"But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four thousand a year come into the neighborhood."

"It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not visit them," Mrs. Bennet sighed again as she flopped down into the chair next to her husband.

"Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them all."

Mrs. Bennet looked at Mr. Bennet; he was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humor, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her sons married; its solace was visiting and news.