It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of
a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.π
However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his
first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds
of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property
of some one or other of their daughters.π
βMy dear Mr. Bennet,β said his lady to him one day, βhave you heard that
Netherfield Park is let at last?βπ
Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.π
βBut it is,β returned she; βfor Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told
me all about it.βπ
Mr. Bennet made no answer.π
βDo you not want to know who has taken it?β cried his wife impatiently.π
βYou want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.βπ
This was invitation enough.π
βWhy, 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.βπ
βWhat is his name?βπ
βBingley.βπ
βIs he married or single?βπ
βOh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or
five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!βπ
βHow so? How can it affect them?βπ
βMy dear Mr. Bennet,β replied his wife, βhow can you be so tiresome! You
must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.βπ
βIs that his design in settling here?βπ
βDesign! 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.βπ
βI see no occasion for that. You and the girls 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.βπ
βMy 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 daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own
beauty.βπ
βIn such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of.βπ
βBut, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into
the neighbourhood.βπ
βIt is more than I engage for, I assure you.βπ
βBut consider your daughters. 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.βπ
βYou 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 girls; though I must
throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.βπ
βI desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the
others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so
good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving her the
preference.βπ
βThey have none of them much to recommend them,β replied he; βthey are all
silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy has something more of
quickness than her sisters.βπ
βMr. 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.βπ
βYou 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.βπ
βAh, you do not know what I suffer.βπ
βBut I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four
thousand a year come into the neighbourhood.βπ
βIt will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not
visit them.βπ
βDepend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them
all.βπ
Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, 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 daughters
married; its solace was visiting and news.π