William broke from his cousin with an impatient gesture, and hurried away to another part of the grounds. Mr. Bertram looked after him in surprise, shrugged his shoulders, and returned to the house, to establish himself by the fireside with a newspaper. Many inquiries were made for Mr. Price throughout the afternoon, to which Mr. Bertram could only say that he had seen him last in the garden, and it was not until nearly dinner-time that he reappeared, with a heated, wearied look, and confessed to having walked too far and missed his way in the park.
Kitty had been on the verge of tears, as the hours of his absence went on, and even Georgiana had begun to look grave, but this explanation revived their drooping spirits to a great extent. Anyone might lose their way in such a large park—nearly ten miles round! And on a dark, foggy afternoon the paths looked all alike, and the stream had so many windings! It was quite evident that this unlucky circumstance alone had caused the delay. These considerations, and a most satisfactory glance at her mirror when she was dressed for the ball, renewed Kitty's bright hopes for the evening. She wished Lydia could see her now. How could regimental balls, however smart and gay, compare with the splendour, the importance, of this occasion at Pemberley. The house, as she had always foreseen, was exactly right for a ball; the arrangements, the space, and all details were superior to those at Mrs. Knightley's house: her dress had been given to her by Elizabeth, and was even prettier than the one she had worn in London, and there seemed to be numbers of pleasant partners, including several officers, though these gentlemen were not persons of such consideration to Kitty as formerly, she having now decided that the naval uniform was far handsomer than the military.
It only remained for Mr. Price to ask for her hand in the first two dances, and the gentlemen of the house were so long in appearing that she was in the utmost terror lest she should be obliged to give them away before he arrived, but at last, among a crowd of other men entering the room, she discerned him. He approached, passing close to Georgiana, who was just being led into the ball-room by a neighbour and old friend, and came straight to where Kitty stood by Mrs. Bingley's side. How delightful to hear the words, spoken in his own friendly way, and with his own charming smile: "Well, Miss Bennet, I hope I may have the honour of these two dances, if I am not too late?"
Kitty very joyously accompanied him to a place next to Georgiana and her partner in the set, and with equal joy made an engagement for other dances later in the evening.
[Chapter XX]
The rooms filled and the ball proceeded, and many present who were frequent visitors to Pemberley nevertheless felt that those noble rooms had never before been the setting for a more brilliant scene. Mr. Darcy received innumerable congratulations upon having at last delighted the neighbourhood by permitting his house to be seen to such advantage, and not having altogether looked forward to the evening, he surprised himself by discovering how much, with Elizabeth at his side, he could enjoy both his own pleasure in entertaining guests, which he had not previously done on so large a scale, and also the pleasure of others who were important to him, Elizabeth, Georgiana, and the Bingleys. Georgiana in particular he watched with affectionate appreciation as she moved through the crowds, handsome and stately, generally grave, but occasionally lighting up into shy animation, and far more admired than she knew or cared about.
William Price had been dancing for a second time with Kitty, and they were sitting in a corridor, on some chairs placed below a cluster of candles in a sconce projecting from the wall, when one of the candles guttered, and a few drops of hot wax fell on the edge of Kitty's chair, narrowly escaping her gown. With an exclamation of annoyance, she sprang up, withdrawing quickly from the post of danger, and looking above them, both perceived that the mischief was caused by a candle having loosened in its socket, and fallen a little to one side.
William immediately proposed that they should move to other seats, and should summon a servant to replace the candle, but Kitty was in a wild and excitable mood, and would pay no heed. Laughing and calling out that she would put it right herself in a moment, she sprang upon the chair, reaching as high as she could, and to the dismay of the onlookers, thrust her hand into the midst of the candles in order to grasp the offending one.
"Do, pray, Miss Bennet, come down!" exclaimed William, and several other persons joined their entreaties to his. "Do not try to do it; you will set your dress on fire—your sleeve is so dangerously near. Do let me help you down, lest you fall and hurt yourself."