That evening, the Darcys had an appointment at the Palais-Royal, the centre of luxury and pleasure in Paris, and the place for fashionable display. The time passed in the enjoyable occupation of watching the many interesting people who congregated there. Having yet no acquaintance in Paris, the family made little attempt to converse with the other guests, and settled down to dine at Véry’s, in preference to Beauvilliers’, the former having small tables seating two or three people, placed at sufficiently wide intervals along the walls to prevent the conversations of any neighbouring diners from being obtrusive. Most of the people present were standing or promenading about the wide aisle between the tables. Elizabeth noted the proportion of long gowns and gentlemen in evening dress. It was too late for the theatre or opera, so Elizabeth was forced to surmise that the recreation of dining was considered an entertainment by the fashionables of Paris; the large proportion walking and talking, as opposed to eating, certainly made it appear likely. Perhaps not, upon further thought: bicorns, tricorns, shakos, tall hats, no hats, and the occasional fez were worn by the men, and circlets, caps, turbans, veils, wigs, diadems, flora, fauna, day-bonnets, and nothing at all upon the heads of the women. There were short coats, long coats, frock-coats, tail-coats, and over-coats—and that was just the men’s costume. Even the shoes in attendance seemed to be in utter confusion as to their purpose! Elizabeth abandoned her review with the satisfying supposition that it would be impossible to be dressed exceptionally amidst such an admixture of cloathing and stiles.

As soon as they had seated themselves, a smart waiter, attired in a snow-white apron with a knife and spoon stuck into his girdle to denote his status, presented Mr. Darcy with a bill of fare containing in excess of five hundred dishes! He bowed courteously, and made his way to the next group of English who were preparing to sit down. The Darcys gazed at the menu in bewilderment for some time before Elizabeth’s appreciation for the absurd overcame her and she let out a laugh.

“If it were up to me to decipher this—volume, I would surely starve. I declare, even were I in England, a bill of fare this large would baffle me entirely. What are we to chuse, Mr. Darcy? How does one to decide in favour of one dish above an hundred others? Georgiana, do you have any ideas?”