“That is capital,” added her sister; and they both laughed heartily.
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“I hope,” said she, as they were walking together in the shrubbery the next day, “you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, to cure the younger girls of running after the officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses.”
“You don’t know his name, though,” said the lad harshly.
“Just like, I should fancy, and very depressing. I began to wonder what on earth I should do when I caught sight of the play-bill. What do you think the play was, Harry?”
“I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton?”
“I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well.”
“No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good-bye.”
Look now at the wondrous traditional story of how this island was settled by the red-men. Thus goes the legend. In olden times an eagle swooped down upon the New England coast, and carried off an infant Indian in his talons. With loud lament the parents saw their child borne out of sight over the wide waters. They resolved to follow in the same direction. Setting out in their canoes, after a perilous passage they discovered the island, and there they found an empty ivory casket,—the poor little Indian’s skeleton.
“You used us abominably ill,” answered Mrs. Hurst, “running away without telling us that you were coming out.”
“All this she must possess,” added Darcy; “and to all she must yet add something more substantial in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”
“It ought to be good,” he replied: “it has been the work of many generations.”
First, Pylæmenes, great in battle, bled, Who sheathed in brass the Paphlagonians led. Atrides mark’d him where sublime he stood; Fix’d in his throat the javelin drank his blood. The faithful Mydon, as he turn’d from fight His flying coursers, sunk to endless night; A broken rock by Nestor’s son was thrown: His bended arm received the falling stone; From his numb’d hand the ivory-studded reins, Dropp’d in the dust, are trail’d along the plains: Meanwhile his temples feel a deadly wound; He groans in death, and ponderous sinks to ground: Deep drove his helmet in the sands, and there The head stood fix’d, the quivering legs in air, Till trampled flat beneath the coursers’ feet: The youthful victor mounts his empty seat, And bears the prize in triumph to the fleet.
“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.”
“And then you have added so much to it yourself--you are always buying books.”
“O friend! two chiefs of force immense I see, Dreadful they come, and bend their rage on thee: Lo the brave heir of old Lycaon’s line, And great Æneas, sprung from race divine! Enough is given to fame. Ascend thy car! And save a life, the bulwark of our war.”
“Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.”
Her inquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not well enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience, from expressing in her note how much she longed for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal, however, to much conversation; and when Miss Bingley left them together, could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude for the extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended her.
in the lap of the faded, tired-looking woman who, with back turned to the shrill intrusive light, was sitting in the one arm-chair that their dingy sitting-room contained. “I am so happy!” she repeated, “and you must be happy, too!”
“I am too shabby,” he answered, frowning. “Only swell people go to the park.”
When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed,--a mixture of pride and impertinence: she had no conversation, no style, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and added,--