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Pride and Prejudice
Mountaineers · 10th–12th
Elizabeth decides Darcy loved her for her "impertinence," but he calls it "the liveliness of your mind." Which name is truer?
The tension Darcy "cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words"; Elizabeth at once supplies a confident account of her own (he was "sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention"), then frets over "what becomes of the moral, if our comfort springs from a breach of promise."
Notice how the lovers now joke about the silences and embarrassments that once kept them apart, and how each letter near the end sounds like its writer.
Elizabeth, her spirits rising to playfulness again, asks Darcy how he could ever have begun to love her. He cannot name the hour, the spot, the look or the words: he was in the middle before he knew he had begun. She asks if he admired her for her impertinence; he says it was for the liveliness of her mind. She says it was very little less than impertinence and gives her own account: he was sick of civility and deference and of women who looked only for his approval, and she interested him because she was unlike them. When she adds that he knows no actual good of her, he names her care of Jane at Netherfield, and she makes a bargain: he will exaggerate her good qualities, and she will tease and quarrel with him. She asks why he was so shy when he called and dined at Longbourn; he says she was grave and silent and gave him no encouragement, she says she was embarrassed, and he says so was he. She wonders when he would have spoken if she had not thanked him for his kindness to Lydia, and asks what becomes of the moral if their comfort springs from a breach of promise. He tells her that Lady Catherine’s efforts to separate them removed his doubts, and that his aunt’s report had given him hope and decided him to know everything at once. He admits that his real purpose in coming back to Netherfield was to see her and judge whether she might ever love him, and that the purpose he gave even himself was to learn whether Jane still cared for Bingley. He offers to write to Lady Catherine at once, and Elizabeth at last answers Mrs. Gardiner’s long letter, which she had left unanswered: she tells her aunt to imagine as much as she likes, invites the family to Pemberley at Christmas, and says she is happier even than Jane, who only smiles while she laughs. Darcy’s letter to Lady Catherine is in a different style, and Mr. Bennet writes a few short lines to Mr. Collins, advising him to stand by the nephew, who has more to give. Miss Bingley sends affectionate, insincere congratulations, and Jane, not deceived, answers more kindly than Miss Bingley deserves; Miss Darcy writes four sides of sincere delight. Lady Catherine is so angry at her nephew’s letter that the Collinses come to Lucas Lodge until the storm has passed. Elizabeth is glad to see Charlotte, but sorry to see Darcy exposed to Mr. Collins’s obsequious civility and to Sir William’s compliments, which he bears calmly, shrugging, if at all, only once Sir William is out of sight. Mrs. Philips is perhaps a greater tax on his forbearance. Elizabeth tries to shield him from both and to keep him to herself and to those of her family he can talk with comfortably; the strain takes much of the pleasure from the courtship but adds to her hope of the future at Pemberley.
Begin with the five short speeches from “Because you were grave and silent” to “A man who had felt less might.” Read them aloud in two voices, and ask the student how the same silence looked from each side; leave the answer open. Then read the chapter from the start: first the lovers accounting for their past, then the world hearing the news in a round of letters, then the courtship among the relations. Leave which name is truer, impertinence or liveliness, for the last written question.
Retell The student retells the chapter in order: “How could you begin?” and Darcy’s answer that he was in the middle before he knew; impertinence or liveliness, and Elizabeth’s own account; Jane at Netherfield and the bargain of praise and teasing; the shy visits and “And so was I”; the worry about the moral and Lady Catherine’s part; Darcy’s real and avowed purposes; the letters, Elizabeth’s to her aunt, Mr. Bennet’s to Mr. Collins, Miss Bingley’s, Jane’s answer and Miss Darcy’s; the Collinses at Lucas Lodge; Darcy enduring Sir William and Mrs. Philips; Elizabeth shielding him and looking forward to Pemberley. Then the student picks the sentence that matters most and says why.
Imitate the author After copying, the student writes two short pieces. First, three sentences in Elizabeth’s manner, explaining with mock confidence why someone likes them: one built on a repeated “of,” one built on a repeated “and,” and one short sentence that ends on a single contrast, as hers ends on “so unlike _them_.” Second, two sentences in the narrator’s manner about an awkward relation at a family gathering: one long sentence that sets a word off with commas for weight, grants a point with “though” and takes it back with “yet,” and one short sentence that turns on a pair, as Austen sets “more quiet” against “more elegant.”
Debate Take sides on the last written question. One side argues that “impertinence” is the truer name, and gathers Elizabeth’s “my behaviour to _you_ was at least always bordering on the uncivil,” “sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention,” “so unlike _them_,” and the “parading and obsequious civility” Darcy endures at the end. The other side argues for “the liveliness of your mind,” and gathers that Darcy names his own word when she offers hers, that he answers her theory with Jane at Netherfield, that she calls the theory “perfectly reasonable” as if it were a game she had won, and the lively teasing that runs through the whole chapter. Each side must answer the other’s strongest line. No side may say what Darcy wrote to Lady Catherine, say that Darcy accepts Elizabeth’s account, say that her thanks brought on the proposal, or describe their married life at Pemberley.
Purpose Close on Elizabeth’s “There--I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it.” Ask the student why Austen gives the lovers’ first easy talk to accounting for the past: the beginning, the silences, the moral. Then ask what the two of them can laugh at now that neither could have laughed at while it was happening.
Easier Read aloud the opening talk, from “How could you begin?” to “nobody thinks of _that_ when they fall in love”; Elizabeth’s letter to her aunt; and Mr. Bennet’s letter. Talk about what “approbation,” “unjustifiable,” “obsequious” and “forbearance” mean in the chapter. Talk through the questions on Jane at Netherfield and on Elizabeth’s laugh, then answer the last written question aloud before writing it.
On level Talk through all five discussion questions in order, then write all three written questions as a thesis, the strongest objection and a revised thesis, each with lines from the chapter.
Harder Ask for one argued essay on the round of letters: what Elizabeth’s letter, Mr. Bennet’s, Miss Bingley’s, Jane’s answer and Miss Darcy’s each show of the writer, and why the narrator keeps Darcy’s letter to Lady Catherine off the page. The student meets the strongest objection. The essay must not guess what Darcy wrote, and must not draw on anything that happens later in the book.
1. Elizabeth says Darcy knows “no actual good” of her, and he names one at once: her care of Jane at Netherfield. Why won’t she let him praise her plainly?Character
What it asks It asks the student to look at how Elizabeth takes the one plain compliment of the talk. She has just finished her own account of his love: “To be sure you know no actual good of me--but nobody thinks of _that_ when they fall in love.” Darcy answers with a question: “Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to Jane, while she was ill at Netherfield?” She replies: “Dearest Jane! who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it by all means. My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may be; and I shall begin directly.” The chapter opens with her “spirits soon rising to playfulness again.” The card does not say that Darcy accepts her account of why he loved her.
Because she does not think it was a good deed. Nursing a sick sister is what love does, not what virtue earns: “who could have done less for her?” Elizabeth would rather be told the truth than be flattered, and the truth, as she sees it, is that any sister would have done the same. On this reading her refusal is honest. She has just said he knows “no actual good” of her, and she will not let one ordinary kindness change that.
Dearest Jane! who could have done less for her?
To be sure you know no actual good of me
Because plain praise is not how she wants to be loved. She does not refuse the compliment; she turns it into a game with rules: he is to “exaggerate” her good qualities, and she is to tease and quarrel with him. Praise taken solemnly would make her a heroine on a pedestal. Praise taken as a joke keeps her the woman who talks back. On this reading she accepts every word, but only on her own terms, and the terms are playful because the whole talk is.
My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible
it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you
A strong answer A strong response decides what keeps Elizabeth from taking the praise straight and grounds it in her reply. One reader hears honesty: she thinks nursing Jane was no virtue at all, since no sister “could have done less.” Another hears a choice of terms: she takes the praise, but only as part of a game in which he exaggerates and she quarrels. The best answers notice that she turns the compliment into a bargain in the same breath, and ask what she gets from loving and being loved in that teasing way.
2. Darcy says his “real purpose” was to see Elizabeth, but the reason he gave himself was Jane and Bingley. How can a man not know his own reason?Inference
What it asks It asks the student to make sense of a man who gave himself one reason for coming and now names another. Elizabeth asks, “what did you come down to Netherfield for? Was it merely to ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed?” He answers: “My real purpose was to see _you_, and to judge, if I could, whether I might ever hope to make you love me. My avowed one, or what I avowed to myself, was to see whether your sister was still partial to Bingley, and if she were, to make the confession to him which I have since made.” Just before, they have traded reasons for the shy visits: “Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement.” “But I was embarrassed.” “And so was I.” “You might have talked to me more when you came to dinner.” “A man who had felt less might.” At the start he said, “I was in the middle before I knew that I _had_ begun.”
He half knew, and would not let himself say it. To come “to judge … whether I might ever hope” was to risk being refused, and she was “grave and silent” and gave him “no encouragement.” A duty to Bingley was a safe reason to come and a safe reason to leave with nothing. On this reading the avowed purpose was a shield, and the same fear kept him quiet at dinner: “A man who had felt less might.”
and to judge, if I could, whether I might ever hope to make you love me
A man who had felt less might.
He truly did not know until later. He says the same of his love itself: he “was in the middle” before he knew he had begun. The avowed purpose was not a lie, either; he did make “the confession to him which I have since made.” On this reading a person can act from a reason he only sees afterwards, and the honest thing Darcy does here is name it now, adding “or what I avowed to myself” rather than pretending he always knew.
I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.
to make the confession to him which I have since made
A strong answer A strong response explains how Darcy could hide his purpose from himself and grounds it in the talk about the shy visits. One reader says he knew and could not risk saying it: with no encouragement from her, a duty to Bingley was the safe reason, and the same fear kept him silent at dinner. Another says he did not know yet, just as he did not know when his love began, and that the avowed purpose was real too. The best answers notice that Darcy volunteers the correction, and ask what it costs a man to admit he fooled himself.
3. Elizabeth writes to her aunt, “I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh.” What is she laughing at?Theme
What it asks It asks the student to listen to Elizabeth’s laugh in her letter to Mrs. Gardiner. She has not answered her aunt’s last letter “From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy with Mr. Darcy had been overrated.” Now she writes: “to say the truth, I was too cross to write. You supposed more than really existed. But _now_ suppose as much as you choose” and “How could I be so silly as to wish it!” Then: “I am the happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so before, but no one with such justice. I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh. Mr. Darcy sends you all the love in the world that can be spared from me.” Earlier, to Darcy, she said of her old manner: “I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not.”
At herself. The letter is full of her own past mistakes, owned with a grin: she was “too cross to write,” her aunt “supposed more than really existed,” she was “silly” to want the Lakes. The laugh is her old wit turned on her own old self, the same move she makes with Darcy at the start of the chapter when she asks how he could ever have begun. On this reading she laughs because the misunderstandings that hurt are now funny.
to say the truth, I was too cross to write.
How could I be so silly as to wish it!
At nothing in particular. This laugh has no target. To Darcy she owns that she once spoke “rather wishing to give you pain than not”; here the laughter wounds no one, and it spills over into boasts she knows are absurd (“no one with such justice”) and a joke about love that “can be spared from me.” Jane’s smile and her laugh are two sizes of the same joy. On this reading she is laughing because she is too happy to keep still.
I am the happiest creature in the world.
Mr. Darcy sends you all the love in the world that can be spared from me.
A strong answer A strong response names what the laugh is aimed at, or decides it is aimed at nothing, and grounds that in the letter. One reader hears her laughing at her own past: the crossness, the silliness, the aunt who guessed too much. Another hears pure overflow, a laugh with no victim, unlike the speeches she once made “rather wishing to give you pain.” The best answers notice that she measures her happiness against Jane’s by the very thing she is known for, and ask what that says about the kind of happiness she has.
4. Mr. Bennet tells Mr. Collins to “stand by the nephew. He has more to give.” How much of that is a joke?Tone
What it asks It asks the student to weigh Mr. Bennet’s letter, which the narrator gives in full. “Mr. Darcy’s letter to Lady Catherine was in a different style, and still different from either was what Mr. Bennet sent to Mr. Collins, in return for his last.” The letter reads: “I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth will soon be the wife of Mr. Darcy. Console Lady Catherine as well as you can. But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has more to give.” It is signed “Yours sincerely.” Later, Lady Catherine is “rendered so exceedingly angry by the contents of her nephew’s letter” that the Collinses come to Lucas Lodge, and Elizabeth sees Darcy “exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility of her husband.” The card does not say what Darcy wrote to Lady Catherine; the chapter says only that it was “in a different style” and made her “exceedingly angry.”
All of it. Every line teases Mr. Collins: “trouble you once more for congratulations” mocks his habit of letters, and “Console Lady Catherine” hands him the hopeless job of comforting his patroness in her defeat. The advice to change sides is given with a perfectly straight face, which is the joke. On this reading the joke is the whole point, and “Yours sincerely” is the last laugh.
I must trouble you once more for congratulations.
Yours sincerely,
Less than it seems. Under the joke is a plain reading of Mr. Collins, and the chapter bears it out: when they meet, he turns his “parading and obsequious civility” on Darcy. “He has more to give” names, without ornament, what that civility is for. On this reading Mr. Bennet is joking only in that he says aloud what everyone knows, and the cold truth is what makes it funny.
But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew.
parading and obsequious civility of her husband
A strong answer A strong response sets a measure on the joke and grounds it in the letter and in what follows. One reader hears pure teasing, every line aimed at Mr. Collins and his patroness, down to “Yours sincerely.” Another hears a true judgment dressed as a joke: when they meet at Lucas Lodge, Mr. Collins turns his obsequious civility on the nephew. The best answers notice that this is the shorter of the two letters the chapter quotes, and ask how much Mr. Bennet manages to say in five sentences.
5. Elizabeth tries to shield Darcy from Sir William and Mrs. Philips and to keep him “to herself.” Whose comfort is she guarding?Moral reasoning
What it asks It asks the student to judge what Elizabeth is protecting in the last pages. Sir William compliments Darcy on “carrying away the brightest jewel of the country,” and Darcy listens “with very decent composure. If he did shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir William was out of sight.” “Mrs. Philips’s vulgarity was another, and, perhaps, a greater tax on his forbearance.” Then: “Elizabeth did all she could to shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to keep him to herself, and to those of her family with whom he might converse without mortification; and though the uncomfortable feelings arising from all this took from the season of courtship much of its pleasure, it added to the hope of the future.” Earlier, seeing him with Mr. Collins, “she must sometimes think the pleasure dearly bought.” He “bore it, however, with admirable calmness.” The card does not describe their married life at Pemberley; the chapter ends looking forward to it.
His. The narrator’s verb is “shield him,” and the trouble is named as a “tax on his forbearance.” She keeps him with those of her family he can talk to “without mortification,” sparing him the embarrassment of the others. On this reading her effort is a kindness: she knows what her relations cost him and pays as much of it as she can herself, even at the price of her own pleasure in the courtship.
Elizabeth did all she could to shield him from the frequent notice of either
a greater tax on his forbearance
Her own. She is “anxious to keep him to herself,” and the “uncomfortable feelings” are hers; so is “the pleasure dearly bought.” Darcy seems to need less help than she gives: he bears Mr. Collins “with admirable calmness,” and keeps any shrug until Sir William has gone. On this reading she is sparing herself the sight of her family through his eyes, and the shame is hers to carry.
was ever anxious to keep him to herself
If he did shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir William was out of sight.
A strong answer A strong response names whose comfort comes first and grounds it in the last paragraphs. One reader says Darcy’s: she shields him from what taxes his forbearance and pays for it with her own pleasure. Another says her own: the uneasy feelings and the dearly bought pleasure are hers, and Darcy, calm and keeping his shrug out of sight, seems to need less shielding than she gives. The best answers notice that both of them are holding something back, she her family and he his shrug, and ask why the chapter lets that, not the lovers’ talk, close the courtship.
1. Darcy says their happiness came not from Elizabeth’s broken promise but from Lady Catherine’s “unjustifiable” attempt to part them. Is that moral any fairer than the one she feared?
What it asks It asks the student to weigh Darcy’s answer to Elizabeth’s worry about “the moral.” She says: “My resolution of thanking you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect. _Too much_, I am afraid; for what becomes of the moral, if our comfort springs from a breach of promise, for I ought not to have mentioned the subject? This will never do.” Darcy answers: “You need not distress yourself. The moral will be perfectly fair. Lady Catherine’s unjustifiable endeavours to separate us were the means of removing all my doubts. I am not indebted for my present happiness to your eager desire of expressing your gratitude. I was not in a humour to wait for an opening of yours. My aunt’s intelligence had given me hope, and I was determined at once to know everything.” Elizabeth: “Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to make her happy, for she loves to be of use.” The card does not say that her thanks brought on the proposal; Darcy says Lady Catherine’s report had already decided him.
Yes, fairer. Elizabeth feared their happiness rested on a fault of her own. Darcy sets it on an effort made to part them: Lady Catherine tried to separate them and gave him hope instead. On this reading the moral is fair because the wrong worked against itself, and no wrong of the lovers sits at the root of their happiness. His aunt’s own news “had given me hope,” the opposite of what she meant.
Lady Catherine’s unjustifiable endeavours to separate us were the means of removing all my doubts.
My aunt’s intelligence had given me hope
No fairer. His moral has the same shape as hers: their comfort still springs from a wrong, and Darcy calls it “unjustifiable” himself. Only the person at fault has changed. On this reading his answer comforts Elizabeth by moving the blame, not by making the story moral, and she hears the joke at once: Lady Catherine “has been of infinite use.”
You need not distress yourself. The moral will be perfectly fair.
Lady Catherine has been of infinite use
A strong answer A strong response might argue that Darcy’s moral is fairer, because Lady Catherine meant to part them and her effort undid itself, so no fault of the lovers sits at the root of their happiness. Key evidence to consider includes “Lady Catherine’s unjustifiable endeavours to separate us were the means of removing all my doubts” and “My aunt’s intelligence had given me hope.” The strongest objection is that his moral has the same shape as hers: their comfort still springs from a wrong, one Darcy himself calls “unjustifiable,” and Elizabeth laughs at exactly that. A revised thesis might hold that Darcy’s moral is fairer to Elizabeth rather than to the story: it lifts the blame from her, and the happiness is still owed to someone’s misstep.
2. Jane is “not deceived” by Miss Bingley, yet she writes back “a much kinder answer than she knew was deserved.” Is Jane’s answer a kind of lie?
What it asks It asks the student to judge Jane’s reply among the letters. “Miss Bingley’s congratulations to her brother on his approaching marriage were all that was affectionate and insincere. She wrote even to Jane on the occasion, to express her delight, and repeat all her former professions of regard. Jane was not deceived, but she was affected; and though feeling no reliance on her, could not help writing her a much kinder answer than she knew was deserved.” Next: “The joy which Miss Darcy expressed on receiving similar information was as sincere as her brother’s in sending it.” Mr. Bennet signs his teasing letter “Yours sincerely.”
Yes, a gentle one. Jane “knew” the kindness was not deserved and wrote it anyway, answering Miss Bingley’s insincere “professions of regard” with warmth she does not trust. The narrator sets the letter between Miss Bingley’s insincerity and Miss Darcy’s plain sincerity, and Jane’s lands nearer the first. On this reading a letter says what the writer thinks of the reader, and Jane’s says more than she thinks.
though feeling no reliance on her
a much kinder answer than she knew was deserved
No. A kind answer is a report of the writer’s heart, not a verdict on the reader’s worth, and Jane’s heart is touched: she “was affected.” She is “not deceived,” so she tells herself no lie, and she gives no trust, so she offers Miss Bingley nothing false to rely on. On this reading kindness beyond desert is generosity, and the narrator’s “could not help” makes it part of Jane’s nature rather than a pretence.
Jane was not deceived, but she was affected
could not help writing her
A strong answer A strong response might argue that Jane’s answer is a gentle lie, since she knew the kindness was undeserved and wrote warmth she did not trust in reply to warmth she knew was false. Key evidence to consider includes “Jane was not deceived” and “a much kinder answer than she knew was deserved.” The strongest objection is that kindness reports the writer’s feeling, not the reader’s worth: Jane “was affected,” gives no trust, and deceives no one, herself included. A revised thesis might hold that the answer is truthful about Jane and generous about Miss Bingley, and that it becomes a lie only if a letter is taken as a judgment rather than a gift.
3. Elizabeth decides Darcy loved her for her "impertinence," but he calls it "the liveliness of your mind." Which name is truer?
What it asks It asks the whole question of the chapter. Elizabeth asks, “How could you begin?” Darcy: “I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I _had_ begun.” She: “my behaviour to _you_ was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now, be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?” He: “For the liveliness of your mind I did.” She: “You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was very little less.” Then her account: he was “sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention”; “I roused and interested you, because I was so unlike _them_”; “There--I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it; and really, all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly reasonable. To be sure you know no actual good of me.” Darcy answers with Jane at Netherfield. At the end of the chapter he endures Mr. Collins’s “parading and obsequious civility.” The card does not say that Darcy accepts her account; he answers only “For the liveliness of your mind I did.”
Her word, “impertinence.” Elizabeth’s word is the more exact about what he actually met: a woman “always bordering on the uncivil,” who spoke “rather wishing to give you pain than not.” Her account explains why that would charm a man “sick of civility”: she was “so unlike _them_.” At the chapter’s end he sits through just such civility, “parading and obsequious.” On this reading “liveliness” is the lover’s kind name, and “impertinence” is the plain one, and Elizabeth is honest enough to prefer it.
I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not.
I roused and interested you, because I was so unlike them.
His words, “the liveliness of your mind.” Darcy chose his own word when she offered hers, and the two names point at different things: impertinence is a manner, liveliness is the mind behind it. Her theory is her own invention, offered as a game (“I begin to think it perfectly reasonable”), and he answers it not by agreeing but by naming a good she has done. On this reading “impertinence” is only how her mind sounded to the man it was aimed at, and the chapter is full of that mind at play.
For the liveliness of your mind I did.
I begin to think it perfectly reasonable.
A strong answer A strong response might argue that “impertinence” is the truer name, because it describes what Darcy actually met, a woman “bordering on the uncivil,” and because Elizabeth’s account explains why a man “sick of civility” would be drawn to it. Key evidence to consider includes “I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not” and “so unlike _them_.” The strongest objection is that Darcy refuses her word for his own, “the liveliness of your mind,” which names the mind and not the manner, and that her theory is her own game, which he answers by pointing to Jane. A revised thesis might hold that the two names describe one thing from two sides: impertinence is how her liveliness landed on him, and the chapter lets her keep teasing him even as they argue which it was.
You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking, and looking, and thinking for your approbation alone.Approval, especially the approval a person seeks from someone whose opinion counts (Latin approbare, to approve). In Elizabeth’s account, the women around Darcy lived for his approbation alone. Her theory is that he was drawn to the one woman who did not.
Lady Catherine’s unjustifiable endeavours to separate us were the means of removing all my doubts.Impossible to defend as right or fair (from justify, to show to be right). Darcy uses it of his aunt’s efforts to part them, in the same sentence that credits those efforts with removing his doubts.
At such a moment, the arrival of her friend was a sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, though in the course of their meetings she must sometimes think the pleasure dearly bought, when she saw Mr. Darcy exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility of her husband.Too eager to please, fawning on someone more important (Latin obsequi, to give way to). The narrator gives the word to Mr. Collins’s manner with Darcy. It is the kind of attention Elizabeth said Darcy was sick of, and here he has to sit through it.
Mrs. Philips’s vulgarity was another, and, perhaps, a greater tax on his forbearance; and though Mrs. Philips, as well as her sister, stood in too much awe of him to speak with the familiarity which Bingley’s good-humour encouraged; yet, whenever she did speak, she must be vulgar.Patient self-control; holding back what one could fairly say or show (from forbear, to hold back). The narrator calls Mrs. Philips a “tax” on Darcy’s forbearance, as if his patience were a store she draws down. The word names what he now practises among Elizabeth’s relations.