meeting frequently at St. James’s, 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; 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. Nor was her respect for him, though it made her more quiet, at

all likely to make her more elegant. 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; and she looked forward

with delight to the time when they should be removed from society so

little pleasing to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their

family party at Pemberley.{472}

CHAPTER LXI.

HAPPY for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs. Bennet got

rid of her two most deserving daughters. With what delighted pride she

afterwards visited Mrs. Bingley, and talked of Mrs. Darcy, may be

guessed. I wish I could say, for the sake of her family, that the

accomplishment of her earnest desire in the establishment of so many of

her children produced so happy an effect as to make her a sensible,

amiable, well-informed woman for the rest of her life; though, perhaps,

it was lucky for her husband, who might not have relished domestic

felicity in so unusual a form, that she still was occasionally nervous

and invariably silly.
Mr. Bennet missed his second daughter exceedingly; his affection for her

drew him oftener from home than anything else could do. He delighted in

going to Pemberley, especially when he was least expected.{473}