A flutter of excitement passed through the far end of the room, the source of which, it soon became apparent, was the entrance of a gentleman of some importance. The noise and crush of the room prevented their seeing him or hearing his name. There were many gentlemen of pleasing figure and good-breeding; the popularity and charm of this beau idéal lay with his natural possession of the opposing and elusive blessings of an easy grace, united with a most attractive aristocratic mien. As he came toward them, the Darcys lost no time in recognising the Comte d’Estrouville. Despite his entering the room alone, within moments the Comte was assaulted by both courtiers and admiring, affected ladies, who used their fans and other accoutrements in an attempt to interest and excite in a manner that would never have been tolerated in English society. The Darcys quickly discovered that the Comte was a favourite in the best Parisian circles, and still, to the delight of that society, a single man. As soon as civility permitted disentangling himself from the multitudes wishing to be seen in his company, he stopt for a few minutes to converse with some of the card-players in the next room. Elizabeth stole a glance at Georgiana, whose cheeks had involuntarily coloured upon recognising the Comte. Georgiana quickly recollected herself and turned to look elsewhere in the room, missing, thereby, the smile that ensued when the Comte’s eyes alighted upon herself. He walked as rapidly as was possible in a crowded ballroom toward the Darcy family, wishing to indulge his own preference for conversing with Georgiana and her family until the dancing began.

Owing to the pleasure that Mr. Darcy and the Comte each received in the similarity of their opinions, it took little time for the Comte and Mr. Darcy’s family to move apart a little from the larger portion of the crowd. It was an inevitability that, as the orchestra made ready to signal the beginning of the dance, the Comte turned to Georgiana and, with a low bow, asked if he might be allowed the honour of the first two dances of the night. Georgiana, always uncomfortable in being noticed, was never more so than the moment when she realised that the eyes of the whole room would be upon her in a few moments; she knew not how she responded; in any case, the gallant Comte reacted as though she had the speech of Demosthenes, and led her into the middle of the room. Word spread quickly—-as it will—-around the entirety of the ballroom, that the Comte would dance his first with the tall English lady, who was so singularly dressed. The French gentlemen responded generally that they noticed only that she was very pretty, leaving their ladies, one supposes, less satisfied with the effect of their general censure than they would wish.