Page 10 of A Question of Character

Miss Bennet opened the book to mark her place with a ribbon. “I will allow the objection. But melancholy, when well expressed, is less tedious than cheerfulness badly written.”

Darcy could not disagree. “A fair distinction.”

“You approve?”

“I do.”

“Then I must seek a more difficult argument.”

Mrs. Gardiner’s needle paused.

Darcy, aware that he had smiled again and equally aware that Mrs. Gardiner had witnessed it, cleared his throat. “Do you read much poetry, Miss Bennet?”

“When I am in the humor for it. At other times I prefer novels, histories, travel accounts, sermons if my conscience has been particularly neglected, and anything my father has attempted to hide because he thinks it unsuitable for my sisters.”

“That is a wide education.”

“It is an inconsistent one. I cannot always recommend the arrangement, though it has kept me from ignorance of several subjects and given me a dangerous confidence in others.”

“Dangerous to whom?”

“That depends upon the company.”

“Then I must choose my subjects carefully.”

“Or bravely.”

Their talk might have remained upon books had Mrs. Gardiner not mentioned Derbyshire. Miss Bennet immediately asked whether the county was as beautiful as her aunt had always claimed. Darcy answered with more animation than he usually permitted in a morning call. It was difficult to speak of Derbyshire with indifference. He described hills rising beyond wooded valleys, streams that ran clear over stone, the peculiar beauty of the Peaks under changing weather, and the road near Lambton where one turn revealed a prospect so unlike the one before it.

Miss Bennet listened with unmistakable interest.

“I envy those who belong to a place so strongly,” she said.

“Longbourn does not inspire such loyalty?”

“Longbourn inspires affection. That is a different thing. It is home, and I should defend it against strangers, but I do not think anyone has ever approached Meryton and been struck dumb by grandeur.”

“Grandeur is not always required.”

“No, but it must be convenient when one wishes to impress visitors.”

“Pemberley is not arranged for the sole purpose of impressing visitors.”

“Only partially?”

“Yes, and when the housekeeper has had warning.”

She gave him a quick, pleased look. “You are capable of making jokes about your own consequence. I shall remember that.”

“I beg you will use the knowledge with restraint.”

“I promise nothing.”

Mrs. Gardiner bent over her sewing, though Darcy suspected she was attending to every word.

“Have you traveled much, Miss Bennet?” he asked.

“Not nearly enough. I have been in Kent, once to Bath when I was younger, and now London. My aunt has promised that one day I shall see the Lakes.”