Lady Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not too clever to be a valuable neighbour to Mrs. Bennet. They had several children. The eldest of them, a sensible, intelligent young woman, about twenty-seven, was Elizabeth’s intimate friend.
That the Miss Lucases and the Miss Bennets should meet to talk over a ball was absolutely necessary; and the morning after the assembly brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to communicate.
“_You_ began the evening well, Charlotte,” said Mrs. Bennet, with civil self-command, to Miss Lucas. “_You_ were Mr. Bingley’s first choice.”
“Yes; but he seemed to like his second better.”
“Oh, you mean Jane, I suppose, because he danced with her twice. To be sure that _did_ seem as if he admired her--indeed, I rather believe he _did_--I heard something about it--but I hardly know what--something about Mr. Robinson.”
“Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson: did not I mention it to you? Mr. Robinson’s asking him how he liked our Meryton assemblies, and whether he did not think there were a great many pretty women in the room, and _which_ he thought the prettiest? and his answering immediately to the last question, ‘Oh, the eldest Miss Bennet, beyond a doubt: there cannot be two opinions on that point.’”
“Upon my word! Well, that was very decided, indeed--that does seem as if--but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know.”
“_My_ overhearings were more to the purpose than _yours_, Eliza,” said Charlotte. “Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to as his friend, is he? Poor Eliza! to be only just _tolerable_.”