By Jane Austen

Chapter 1

It is a truth universally acknowledged,  

that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

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.

"My dear Mr. Bennet," said  his lady to him one day,  

"have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"

Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.

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

told me all about it."

Mr. Bennet gave no answer.

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

"_You_ want to tell me, and I  have no objection to hearing it."

This was an invitation enough.

"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?"

"Bingley."

"Is he married or single?"

"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 girls!"

"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 marrying one of them."

"Is that his design for settling here?"

"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."

"I 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."

"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 daughters, she ought to give  over thinking of her own beauty."

"In such cases, a woman does not  often have much beauty to think of."

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

the neighbourhood."

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

"But 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."

"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 girls; though 

I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy."

"I hope 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."

"They have none of them much to  recommend them," replied he; "they are 

all silly and ignorant like other girls; but  

Lizzy has something more of quicker than her sisters."

"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."

"But I hope you will get over it,  

and live to see many young men of four thousand a year come into the neighbourhood."

"It will be no use to us,  if twenty such should come,  

since you will not visit them."

"Depend upon it, my dear,  that when there are twenty,  

I will visit them all."

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.

Chapter 2

Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of  those who waited on Mr. Bingley. He 

had always intended to visit him,  though to the last always assuring 

his wife that he should not go;  

and till the evening after the visit was paid she had no knowledge of it.  

It was then disclosed in the following manner. Observing his second daughter  

employed in trimming a hat, he suddenly addressed her with:

"I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy."

"We are not in a way to know _what_  Mr. Bingley likes," said her mother 

resentfully, "since we are not to visit."

"But you forget, mamma," said Elizabeth,  "that we shall meet him at the 

assemblies, and that Mrs. Long  promised to introduce him."

"I do not believe Mrs. Long will do  any such thing. She has two nieces 

of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman,  

and I have no opinion of her."

"No more have I," said Mr. Bennet;  "and I am glad to find that you do 

not depend on her serving you."

Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make  any reply, but, unable to contain 

herself, began scolding one of her daughters.

"Don't keep coughing so, Kitty,  for Heaven's sake! Have a little 

compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces."

"Kitty has no discretion in  her coughs," said her father;  

"she times they are ill."

"I do not cough for my own amusement,"  replied Kitty fretfully. "When is 

your next ball to be, Lizzy?"

"To-morrow fortnight."

"Aye, so it is," cried her mother,  "and Mrs. Long does not come back 

till the day before; so it will be  impossible for her to introduce him, 

for she will not know him herself."

"Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your  

friend, and introduce Mr. Bingley to _her_."

"Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible,  

when I am not acquainted with him myself; how can you be so teasing?"

"I honour your circumspection. A  fortnight's acquaintance is certainly 

very little. One cannot know what  a man really is by the end of a 

fortnight. But if _we_ do not venture  somebody else will; and after all, 

Mrs. Long and her daughters  must stand their chance;  

and, therefore, as she will think it an act of kindness,  

if you decline the office, I will take it on myself."

The girls stared at their  father. Mrs. Bennet said only,  

"Nonsense, nonsense!"

"What can be the meaning of that  emphatic exclamation?" cried. "Do 

you consider the forms of introduction,  and the stress that is laid on 

them, as nonsense? I cannot quite  agree with you _there_. What say you, 

Mary? For you are a young lady of  deep reflection, I know, and read 

great books and make extracts."

Mary wished to say something  sensible, but knew not how.

"While Mary is adjusting her ideas,"  he continued, "let us return to Mr. 

Bingley."

"I am sick of Mr. Bingley," cried his wife.

"I am sorry to hear _that_; but why  didn't you tell me that before? If 

I had known as much this morning  I certainly would not have called 

on him. It is very unlucky; but as  I have actually paid the visit, we 

cannot escape the acquaintance now."

The astonishment of the ladies was  just what he wished; that of Mrs. 

Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest;  though, when the first tumult of joy 

was over, she began to declare  that it was what she had expected  

all the while.

"How good it was to you, my dear  Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should 

persuade you at last. I was sure  you loved your girls too well to 

neglect such an acquaintance.  

Well, how pleased I am! and it is such a good joke, too, that you should have gone  

this morning and never said a word about it till now."

"Now, Kitty, you may cough as much  as you choose," said Mr. Bennet; and, 

as he spoke, he left the room,  fatigued with the raptures of his wife.

"What an excellent father you have,  girls!" said she, when the door was 

shut. "I do not know how you will  ever make him amends for his kindness; 

or me, either, for that matter.  At our time of life it is not so 

pleasant, I can tell you, to be making  new acquaintances every day; but 

for your sake, we would do anything.  Lydia, my love, though you _are_ 

the youngest, I dare say Mr.  Bingley will dance with you at  

the next ball."

"Oh!" said Lydia stoutly,  

"I am not afraid; for though I _am_ the youngest, I'm the tallest."

The rest of the evening was spent  in conjecturing how soon he would 

return Mr. Bennet's visit, and  determining when they should  

ask him to dinner.

Chapter 3

Not all that Mrs. Bennet, however,  with the assistance of her five 

daughters, could ask on the subject,  was sufficient to draw from her 

husband any satisfactory description  of Mr. Bingley. They attacked him 

in various ways--with barefaced  questions, ingenious suppositions, and 

distant surmises; but he eluded the  skill of them all, and they were at 

last obliged to accept the second-hand  intelligence of their neighbour, 

Lady Lucas. Her report was highly  favourable. Sir William had been 

delighted with him. He was quite  young, wonderfully handsome, extremely 

agreeable, and, to crown the whole,  he meant to be at the next assembly 

with a large party. Nothing could  be more delightful! To be fond of 

dancing was a certain step towards  falling in love; and very lively 

hopes of Mr. Bingley's heart were entertained.

"If I can but see one of my daughters  happily settled at Netherfield," 

said Mrs. Bennet to her husband,  "and all the others equally well 

married, I shall have nothing to wish for."

In a few days Mr. Bingley returned  Mr. Bennet's visit, and sat about 

ten minutes with him in his library.  He had entertained hopes of being 

admitted to a sight of the young  ladies, of whose beauty he had 

heard much; but he saw only the  father. The ladies were somewhat more 

fortunate, for they had the advantage  of ascertaining from an upper 

window that he wore a blue  coat, and rode a black horse.

An invitation to dinner was soon  afterwards dispatched; and already 

had Mrs. Bennet planned the courses  that were to do credit to her 

housekeeping, when an answer arrived  which deferred it all. Mr. Bingley 

was obliged to be in town the following  day, and, consequently, unable 

to accept the honour of their  invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite 

disconcerted. She could not imagine  what business he could have in town 

so soon after his arrival in  Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that 

he might be always flying about  from one place to another, and never 

settled at Netherfield as he ought  to be. Lady Lucas quieted her fears 

a little by starting the idea of  his being gone to London only to get 

a large party for the ball; and a  report soon followed that Mr. Bingley 

was to bring twelve ladies and seven  gentlemen with him to the assembly. 

The girls grieved over such a number  of ladies, but were comforted the 

day before the ball by hearing, that  instead of twelve he brought only 

six with him from London--his five  sisters and a cousin. And when 

the party entered the assembly  room it consisted of only five 

altogether--Mr. Bingley, his two sisters,  

the husband of the eldest, and another young man.

Mr. Bingley was good-looking and  gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant 

countenance, and easy, unaffected manners.  

His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion.  

His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely looked the gentleman;  

but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person,  

handsome features, noble mien, and the report which was in general circulation  

within five minutes after his entrance,