The moment I set foot into Mr. Bingley’s estate I feel overwhelmed with relief. A sensible, proper place at last. I walk through the spacious rooms, marveling at the white pillars and the lavish decorations. Before passing the threshold, I paused to admire a quantity of grotesque carving lavished over the front. The apartment and furniture would have been nothing extraordinary as belonging to a homely, northern farmer, with a stubborn countenance, and stalwart limbs set out to advantage in and gaiters. Such an individual seated in his arm-chair, his mug of ale frothing on the round table before him, is to be seen in any circuit of five or six miles among these hills, if you go at the right time after dinner. Much to my chagrin, when I enter the main room, I see a rather clumsy man attempt to dance with a lovely young woman. Had I had the pleasure to dance with such an elegant lady, I would have swept her off her feet. The dance finally ends, and as I stroll past them, I catch her name. A light haired beauty called her Elizabeth. I shall look forward to encountering her again.
A rather silly girl runs past me, seemingly to chase a red coat soldier. Another one runs past, yelling for the first girl to wait. I am amazed that such girls openly chase men. How improper!
I quickly approach Mr. Bingley and his sister and introduce myself.
“I am Mr. Lockwood. It is such an honor to meet you. This is a lovely estate you have. Such a lovely town too. I live in a quite lovely home myself in Yorkshire. Do you know of it?” Mr. Bingley smiles and tells me that he does not, and then asks me some idle questions, while Miss Bingley continues to stare at me. She must be quite taken with my charisma and manners. After awhile, I excuse myself when I catch sights of Elizabeth. I was wandering towards Elizabeth when that idiotic, clumsy man bumps into me, and would have spilt his drink on my being had I not been adept and quickly step out of the way. He quickly...