some of the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in

dancing at one end of the room.{33}
Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of

passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too

much engrossed by his own thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas

was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began:—
“What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is

nothing like dancing, after all. I consider it as one of the first

refinements of polished societies.”
“Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst

the less polished societies of the world: every savage can dance.”
Sir William only smiled. “Your friend performs delightfully,” he

continued, after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; “and I doubt

not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy.”
“You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir.”
“Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do

you often dance at St. James’s?”
“Never, sir.”
“Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?”
“It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it.”
“You have a house in town, I conclude?”
Mr. Darcy bowed.
“I had once some thoughts of fixing in town myself, for I am fond of

superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of

London would agree with Lady Lucas.”
He paused in hopes of an answer: but his companion was not disposed to

make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving towards them, he was

struck with the{34} notion of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to

her,—
“My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow

me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You

cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.”

And, taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy, who, though