“I begin to be sorry that he comes at all,”said Jane to her sister.“It would be nothing;I could see him with perfect indifference, but I can hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually talked of. My mother means well;but she does not know,no one can know,how much I suffer from what she says.Happy shall I be,when his stay at Netherfield is over!”
“I wish I could say anything to comfort you,”replied Elizabeth;“but it is wholly out of my power.You must feel it;and the usual satisfaction of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied me, because you have always so much.”
“Some acquaintance or other,my dear,I suppose;I am sure I do not know.”
She sat intently at work,striving to be composed,and without daring to lift up her eyes,till anxious curiosity carried them to the face of her sister as the servant was approaching the door.Jane looked a little paler than usual,but more sedate than Elizabeth had expected.On the gentlemen's appearing,her colour increased;yet she received them with tolerable ease,and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any symptom of resentment or any unnecessary complaisance.
Mr. Bingley arrived. Mrs. Bennet, through the assistance of servants, contrived to have the earliest tidings of it, that the period of anxiety and fretfulness on her side might be as long as it could.She counted the days that must intervene before their invitation could be sent;hopeless of seeing him before. But on the third morning after his arrival in Hertfordshire,she saw him, from her dressing-room window,enter the paddock and ride towards the house.