Chapter 11

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When the ladies removed after dinner, Elizabeth ran up to her

sister, and seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into

the drawing-room, where she was welcomed by her two friends

with many professions of pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen

them so agreeable as they were during the hour which passed

before the gentlemen appeared.  Their powers of conversation

were considerable.  They could describe an entertainment with

accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their

acquaintance with spirit.

But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first

object; Miss Bingley's eyes were instantly turned toward Darcy,

and she had something to say to him before he had advanced

many steps.  He addressed himself to Miss Bennet, with a polite

congratulation; Mr. Hurst also made her a slight bow, and said

he was "very glad;" but diffuseness and warmth remained for

Bingley's salutation.  He was full of joy and attention.  The first

half-hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she should suffer

from the change of room; and she removed at his desire to the

other side of the fireplace, that she might be further from the

door.  He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to anyone

else.  Elizabeth, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with

great delight.

When tea was over, Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law of the

card-table but in vain.  She had obtained private intelligence

that Mr. Darcy did not wish for cards; and Mr. Hurst soon found

even his open petition rejected.  She assured him that no one

intended to play, and the silence of the whole party on the

subject seemed to justify her.  Mr. Hurst had therefore nothing

to do, but to stretch himself on one of the sofas and go to

sleep.  Darcy took up a book; Miss Bingley did the same; and

Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her bracelets

and rings, joined now and then in her brother's conversation

with Miss Bennet.

Miss Bingley's attention was quite as much engaged in watching

Mr. Darcy's progress through his book, as in reading her own;

and she was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking

at his page.  She could not win him, however, to any conversation;

he merely answered her question, and read on.  At length, quite

exhausted by the attempt to be amused with her own book, which

she had only chosen because it was the second volume of his,

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