Into Hertfordshire Read Online Free Page B

proper behaviour: that, no matter the occasion, one’s civility should never desert one; moreover, that the more one wished to show one’s regard, the more strictly one must adhere to the tenets of decorum. As a child he had been taught that proper behaviour was good behaviour, and he had never learnt to feel differently. His standards of conduct were higher than most, and tended to make him appear rather more formal than was common. He did make a distinction between those closest to him and the rest of the world, naturally, and when closeted with his intimates he did loosen his tight grip on his manners, as any one might do; but in company he was unvaryingly correct. This had earned him a reputation for reserve which was not entirely deserved; he was, in fact, a reasonably affable man whose faith in proper comportment, as a symbol of his gentlemanly regard for what was due his fellow creatures, manifested itself in an exacting observance of propriety. The fact that Bingley’s very opposite views seemed to give him and all of his acquaintance the greatest pleasure, and surrounded him with many well-wishers, did not appear to influence Darcy’s prejudices in the slightest.
    Darcy’s contrition carried him through the rest of the evening. He was so obliging and agreeable in trying to make up for his lapse in manners that the two friends parted on the best of terms.
     

 
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
     
    Darcy would have leisure to regret being quite so obliging on the morrow, for he had agreed to travel with Bingley and his sister in their coach, rather than take his own. Miss Bingley was strongly persuaded that Darcy was to be the font of her future felicity, and this persuasion made itself felt to the fullest that day. As she sat across from him she constantly sought his eye with hers, begged to have his observations on the passing scenery, presumed his agreement with her observations on the same, and availed herself of his person for support whenever the coach lurched heavily enough to give her a plausible excuse. And for the four hours of the journey she blithely ignored his marked lack of enthusiasm for the conversation. Bingley contented himself with avoiding Darcy’s eye and pretending to doze as much as possible; thus was he gently avenged for his trials at his friend’s hands the night before.
    The Hursts followed behind in a chaise, with the gentlemen’s hunters behind. Mrs. Louisa Hurst, Bingley’s eldest sister, was a woman of limited understanding, whose chief interest lay in seconding her sister Caroline’s opinions and echoing her least observations with an enthusiasm they rarely merited. Nor was Mr. Hurst Darcy’s sort; just one of hundreds of London gentlemen with neither occupation nor desire for one. His one social attainment was a proficiency at cards, which made him a tolerable companion to Darcy, he being fond of that pastime.
    Darcy’s enthusiasm for the trip began to revive as they entered the environs of Netherfield Park, for he was generally pleased with what he saw. The farmland was well laid out; the soil, dark and rich, was to be seen between the stalks left behind by the harvest; sheaves of forage were being tied in neat bundles by workers here and there, putting the fields in order for the winter.
    Bingley’s first true moment of triumph occurred just after they passed the gates into the park. A superb stand of shaggy timber extended away towards the left from the gates, and just outside its borders they surprised a herd of a dozen deer, led by a magnificent buck, whose snort of alarm sent the herd bounding for the trees. He momentarily favoured the coach with a wary regard before bounding away himself to join his charges. Bingley caught Darcy’s eye and both men smiled, appreciating the prospect of an exceptional hunt.
    “Fine animal, that,” murmured Darcy.
    “Looked well-fed, did not they?” agreed Bingley. “The lands hereabout must be remarkably fertile,” he added with a