Pride and Prejudice

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 made 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 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 his marrying
one of them."

"Is that his design in 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 has not often 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 for, 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 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."

"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 quickness 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 them 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
he. "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 did not 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 in 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 sakes, 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, of his having
ten thousand a year. The gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine
figure of a man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than
Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about
half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned
the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud;
to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his
large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most
forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be
compared with his friend.

Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the
principal people in the room; he was lively and unreserved,
danced every dance, was angry that the ball closed so early,
and talked of giving one himself at Netherfield. Such amiable
qualities must speak for themselves. What a contrast between
him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced only once with Mrs. Hurst
and once with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any
other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about
the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party. His
character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable
man in the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come
there again. Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs.
Bennet, whose dislike of his general behaviour was sharpened
into particular resentment by his having slighted one of her
daughters.

Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen,
to sit down for two dances; and during part of that time,
Mr. Darcy had been standing near enough for her to hear a
conversation between him and Mr. Bingley, who came from the
dance for a few minutes, to press his friend to join it.

"Come, Darcy," said he, "I must have you dance. I hate to see
you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had
much better dance."

"I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am
particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as
this it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and
there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a
punishment to me to stand up with."

"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried Mr. Bingley,
"for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many
pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are
several of them you see uncommonly pretty."

"_You_ are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,"
said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

"Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But
there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is
very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my
partner to introduce you."

"Which do you mean?" and turning round he looked for a
moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own
and coldly said: "She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to
tempt _me_; I am in no humour at present to give consequence
to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better
return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting
your time with me."

Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy walked off; and
Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings toward him.
She told the story, however, with great spirit among her friends;
for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in
anything ridiculous.

The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole
family. Mrs. Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much
admired by the Netherfield party. Mr. Bingley had danced with
her twice, and she had been distinguished by his sisters. Jane
was as much gratified by this as her mother could be, though in
a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane's pleasure. Mary had heard
herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most accomplished
girl in the neighbourhood; and Catherine and Lydia had been
fortunate enough never to be without partners, which was all
that they had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned,
therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the village where they
lived, and of which they were the principal inhabitants. They
found Mr. Bennet still up. With a book he was regardless of
time; and on the present occasion he had a good deal of
curiosity as to the events of an evening which had raised such
splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that his wife's
views on the stranger would be disappointed; but he soon
found out that he had a different story to hear.

"Oh! my dear Mr. Bennet," as she entered the room, "we have
had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you
had been there. Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it.
Everybody said how well she looked; and Mr. Bingley thought
her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice! Only think of
_that_, my dear; he actually danced with her twice! and she was
the only creature in the room that he asked a second time.
First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him
stand up with her! But, however, he did not admire her at all;
indeed, nobody can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with
Jane as she was going down the dance. So he inquired who she
was, and got introduced, and asked her for the two next. Then
the two third he danced with Miss King, and the two fourth with
Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane again, and the two
sixth with Lizzy, and the _Boulanger_--"

"If he had had any compassion for _me_," cried her husband
impatiently, "he would not have danced half so much! For God's
sake, say no more of his partners. O that he had sprained
his ankle in the first place!"

"Oh! my dear, I am quite delighted with him. He is so
excessively handsome! And his sisters are charming women.
I never in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses.
I dare say the lace upon Mrs. Hurst's gown--"

Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet protested against
any description of finery. She was therefore obliged to seek
another branch of the subject, and related, with much bitterness
of spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr.
Darcy.

"But I can assure you," she added, "that Lizzy does not lose
much by not suiting _his_ fancy; for he is a most disagreeable,
horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited
that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked
there, fancying himself so very great! Not handsome enough to
dance with! I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given
him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man."



Chapter 4


When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been
cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her
sister just how very much she admired him.

"He is just what a young man ought to be," said she, "sensible,
good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners!--so
much ease, with such perfect good breeding!"

"He is also handsome," replied Elizabeth, "which a young man
ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby
complete."

"I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second
time. I did not expect such a compliment."

"Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference
between us. Compliments always take _you_ by surprise, and
_me_ never. What could be more natural than his asking you
again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times
as pretty as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his
gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I
give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider
person."

"Dear Lizzy!"

"Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in
general. You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are
good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of
a human being in your life."

"I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always
speak what I think."

"I know you do; and it is _that_ which makes the wonder. With _your_
good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense
of others! Affectation of candour is common enough--one meets
with it everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or
design--to take the good of everybody's character and make it
still better, and say nothing of the bad--belongs to you alone.
And so you like this man's sisters, too, do you? Their manners
are not equal to his."

"Certainly not--at first. But they are very pleasing women when
you converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her
brother, and keep his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall
not find a very charming neighbour in her."

Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced; their
behaviour at the assembly had not been calculated to please in
general; and with more quickness of observation and less pliancy
of temper than her sister, and with a judgement too unassailed by
any attention to herself, she was very little disposed to approve
them. They were in fact very fine ladies; not deficient in good
humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of making
themselves agreeable when they chose it, but proud and
conceited. They were rather handsome, had been educated in
one of the first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of
twenty thousand pounds, were in the habit of spending more
than they ought, and of associating with people of rank, and
were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of
themselves, and meanly of others. They were of a respectable
family in the north of England; a circumstance more deeply
impressed on their memories than that their brother's fortune
and their own had been acquired by trade.

Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly a
hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to
purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. Mr. Bingley
intended it likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county;
but as he was now provided with a good house and the liberty of
a manor, it was doubtful to many of those who best knew the
easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the
remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next
generation to purchase.

His sisters were anxious for his having an estate of his own; but,
though he was now only established as a tenant, Miss Bingley
was by no means unwilling to preside at his table--nor was Mrs.
Hurst, who had married a man of more fashion than fortune, less
disposed to consider his house as her home when it suited her.
Mr. Bingley had not been of age two years, when he was tempted
by an accidental recommendation to look at Netherfield House.
He did look at it, and into it for half-an-hour--was pleased with
the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied with what the
owner said in its praise, and took it immediately.

Between him and Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in
spite of great opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to
Darcy by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper,
though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own,
and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. On the
strength of Darcy's regard, Bingley had the firmest reliance, and
of his judgement the highest opinion. In understanding, Darcy
was the superior. Bingley was by no means deficient, but Darcy
was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and
fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting.
In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was
sure of being liked wherever he appeared, Darcy was continually
giving offense.

The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was
sufficiently characteristic. Bingley had never met with more
pleasant people or prettier girls in his life; everybody had been
most kind and attentive to him; there had been no formality, no
stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted with all the room; and, as
to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful.
Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom
there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had
felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention
or pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty, but she
smiled too much.

Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so--but still they
admired her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet
girl, and one whom they would not object to know more of.
Miss Bennet was therefore established as a sweet girl, and their
brother felt authorized by such commendation to think of her as
he chose.



Chapter 5


Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom
the Bennets were particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas
had been formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had made a
tolerable fortune, and risen to the honour of knighthood by an
address to the king during his mayoralty. The distinction had
perhaps been felt too strongly. It had given him a disgust
to his business, and to his residence in a small market town;
and, in quitting them both, he had removed with his family
to a house about a mile from Meryton, denominated from that
period Lucas Lodge, where he could think with pleasure of his
own importance, and, unshackled by business, occupy himself
solely in being civil to all the world. For, though elated by his
rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the contrary, he was
all attention to everybody. By nature inoffensive, friendly, and
obliging, his presentation at St. James's had made him courteous.

Lady Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not too clever to
be a valuable neighbour to Mrs. Bennet. They had several
children. The eldest of them, a sensible, intelligent young
woman, about twenty-seven, was Elizabeth's intimate friend.

That the Miss Lucases and the Miss Bennets should meet to
talk over a ball was absolutely necessary; and the morning after
the assembly brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to
communicate.

"_You_ began the evening well, Charlotte," said Mrs. Bennet with
civil self-command to Miss Lucas. "_You_ were Mr. Bingley's
first choice."

"Yes; but he seemed to like his second better."

"Oh! you mean Jane, I suppose, because he danced with her
twice. To be sure that _did_ seem as if he admired her--indeed
I rather believe he _did_--I heard something about it--but I
hardly know what--something about Mr. Robinson."

"Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson;
did not I mention it to you? Mr. Robinson's asking him how he
liked our Meryton assemblies, and whether he did not think there
were a great many pretty women in the room, and _which_ he thought
the prettiest? and his answering immediately to the last
question: 'Oh! the eldest Miss Bennet, beyond a doubt; there
cannot be two opinions on that point.'"

"Upon my word! Well, that is very decided indeed--that does
seem as if--but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know."

"_My_ overhearings were more to the purpose than _yours_, Eliza,"
said Charlotte. "Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to
as his friend, is he?--poor Eliza!--to be only just _tolerable_."

"I beg you would not put it into Lizzy's head to be vexed by
his ill-treatment, for he is such a disagreeable man, that it
would be quite a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long
told me last night that he sat close to her for half-an-hour
without once opening his lips."

"Are you quite sure, ma'am?--is not there a little mistake?"
said Jane. "I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her."

"Aye--because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield,
and he could not help answering her; but she said he seemed
quite angry at being spoke to."

"Miss Bingley told me," said Jane, "that he never speaks much,
unless among his intimate acquaintances. With _them_ he is
remarkably agreeable."

"I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very
agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess
how it was; everybody says that he is eat up with pride, and I
dare say he had heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep
a carriage, and had come to the ball in a hack chaise."

"I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long," said Miss Lucas,
"but I wish he had danced with Eliza."

"Another time, Lizzy," said her mother, "I would not dance
with _him_, if I were you."

"I believe, ma'am, I may safely promise you _never_ to dance
with him."

"His pride," said Miss Lucas, "does not offend _me_ so much as
pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot
wonder that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune,
everything in his favour, should think highly of himself. If I
may so express it, he has a _right_ to be proud."

"That is very true," replied Elizabeth, "and I could easily
forgive _his_ pride, if he had not mortified _mine_."

"Pride," observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity
of her reflections, "is a very common failing, I believe. By
all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common
indeed; that human nature is particularly prone to it, and
that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of
self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real
or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though
the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud
without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of
ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us."

"If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy," cried a young Lucas, who
came with his sisters, "I should not care how proud I was. I
would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine a
day."

"Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought," said
Mrs. Bennet; "and if I were to see you at it, I should take away
your bottle directly."

The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare
that she would, and the argument ended only with the visit.