"For a hundred reasons. If there is one character I detest more than another, it is that of a worldly woman. Delicacy, purity, refinement, are all so essential--and no girl can possess them brought up under the glare and glitter of the world. You have been singularly fortunate in living at Queen's Chase."
"Thank Heaven," she thought to herself, "that he does not know the shameful escape I tried to make--that he does not know how I loathed and hated the place."
"But," she said aloud, "it is not pleasant to be always dull."
"Dull! No. Youth is the very time for enjoyment; every thing rejoices in youth. You, for instance, have been happy with your books and flowers at Queen's Chase: the world now is all new to you. You are not what fashionable jargon calls 'used up.' You have not been playing at being a woman while you were yet a child; your heart has not been hardened by flirtations; your soul has not been soiled by contact with worldlings; you are fresh, and pure, and beautiful as the flowers themselves. If you had been living all these years in the hot-bed of society, this would not have been the case. There is nothing so detestable, so unnatural, as a worldly young girl."
He liked her as she was! For the first time in her life Hyacinth blessed Lady Vaughan and Queen's Chase.
"I do not want to tire you with argument," he continued, "but tell me Hyacinth, what becomes of a flower, the growth of which has been forced?"
"Yes; and girls brought up in the artificial atmosphere of modern society, and its worship of Mammon, its false estimates, its love of sensation and excitement, soon die to all that is fairest and best in life. You," he continued, "enjoy--see, your face tells tales, Hyacinth--you enjoy the sunshine, the flowers, the music, the lake."
"If you had danced and flirted through one or two London seasons, you would not enjoy nature as you do; it would pall upon you--you would be apt to look at it through an eye-glass, and criticise the color of the water and the tints of the flowers--you would detect motes in the sunbeam and false notes in music."
She laughed. "I should not be so keen a critic, Mr. Darcy."
"One who can criticise is not always one who enjoys most," he said. "I like to see people honestly enjoying themselves, and leaving criticism alone."