It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife, or at least a mistress, especially if he does not wish to indulge with ladies of easy virtue, of which the neighborhood enjoyed an ample stock.
However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their pining, inhibited, and frustrated daughters.
``My dear Mr. Bennet,'' said his lady to him one day, `have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?'' As usual, Mrs Bennet's stomach was distempered with wind, which caused frequent eructations and annoying flatulence.
Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.
``But it is,'' returned she; ``for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it.''
Mr. Bennet made no answer.
``Do not you want to know who has taken it?'' cried his wife impatiently.
``You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.'' Mr. Bennet was customarily cranky and irritable, perhaps because he had not enjoyed his lady for the last fourteen years, or ever since the birth of his youngest daughter, when Mrs. Bennet had declared that five pregnancies were sufficient. He frequently retired to his room, where, pretending interest in his extensive library, he surrendered to self-abuse.
This was invitation enough.
``Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week.''
``What is his name?''
``"Bingley.''
``Is he married or single?''
``Oh! single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!'' He must be in the pink of youthful vitality, and if we can only bridle his natural impulses until he has been entranced by Jane or Lizzie, we might capture a prize. Perhaps out of excitement, Mrs. Bennet let fly an enormous, resonant fart.
``How so? how can it affect them?'' replied Mr. Bennet, pretending not to notice that the air was rent with the sound and savor of the explosion.
``My dear," replied his wife, ``how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them. He'll be so blinded by youthful lust that he'll surely imagine himself to be in love.
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