a subject to him, which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she

turned to him and said,—
“Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well

just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at

Meryton?”
“With great energy; but it is a subject which always makes a lady

energetic.{32}”
“You are severe on us.”
“It will be her turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas. “I am going

to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.”
“You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!—always wanting me

to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a

musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would

really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of

hearing the very best performers.” On Miss Lucas’s persevering, however,

she added, “Very well; if it must be so, it must.” And gravely glancing

at Mr. Darcy, “There is a very fine old saying, which everybody here is

of course familiar with—‘Keep your breath to cool your porridge,’—and

I shall keep mine to swell my song.”
Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song

or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she

would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her

sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in

the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always

impatient for display.
Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her

application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited

manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she

had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with

much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the

end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by

Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who with