Certain words are edible.

“Oh, certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and, besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy; “and to all she must yet add something more substantial in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

I tend to agree with Elizabeth, a woman who can do all that seems fairly impossible, or she's got to be at least 40 years old!

“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.” “Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?” “I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, united.”

I totally get the vibe of what Charles is talking about, though I'm having trouble finding a modern equivalent. Maybe it's comparable to a modern resume with stock phrases or a used car salesman. Everyone is talking up women being "accomplished" to a point that the word becomes meaningless. I think this passage in Sense & Sensibility is similar:

Sir John’s confidence in his own judgment rose with this animated praise, and he set off directly for the cottage to tell the Miss Dashwoods of the Miss Steeles’ arrival, and to assure them of their being the sweetest girls in the world. From such commendation as this, however, there was not much to be learned; Elinor well knew that the sweetest girls in the world were to be met with in every part of England, under every possible variation of form, face, temper and understanding.

Praise so often given that it rings hallow.

Back to the beginning of the chapter! I just wanted to start with the accomplishments discussion because of the picture.

At five o’clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half-past six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner.

That is an hour and a half dressing for dinner, which according to Henry Tilney of Northanger Abbey is ridiculous for the country:

"...I must go and dress.”

“It is only a quarter past four,” showing his watch; “and you are not now in Bath. No theatre, no rooms to prepare for. Half an hour at Northanger must be enough.”

I think we are meant to take this as the Bingley sisters being quite vain.

To the civil inquiries which then poured in, and amongst which she had the pleasure of distinguishing the much superior solicitude of Mr. Bingley, she could not make a very favourable answer. Jane was by no means better. The sisters, on hearing this, repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill themselves; and then thought no more of the matter: and their indifference towards Jane, when not immediately before them, restored Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all her original dislike.

I think Elizabeth is a bit overly hard on the Bingley sisters here. We know they've been spending "hours" with Jane, and she does just have a cold. What more does she expect them to do? Jane also has Elizabeth looking after her, the Bingleys are hosting Elizabeth for this purpose. Also, it's a friendship of a couple weeks! I think that "enjoyment" speaks a lot about what Elizabeth wants to think about them.

Mr. Hurst, by whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to eat, drink, and play at cards, who, when he found her prefer a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her.

A ragout:

This doesn't seem that fancy to me, but I think French dishes were all the rage at this time.

“You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley; “and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition.” “Certainly not.” “To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ancles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! what could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum.” “It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing,” said Bingley. “I am afraid, Mr. Darcy,” observed Miss Bingley, in a half whisper, “that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes.” “Not at all,” he replied: “they were brightened by the exercise.” A short pause followed this speech

Darcy is forced to admit that he doesn't find Elizabeth's actions quite correct, but like Bingley, we will learn later that he admired Elizabeth's affection for her sister.

Differences between town and country manners will be a big theme in Mansfield Park, Austen's next novel.

That short pause is telling. The Bingley sisters check to make sure what they are saying is okay with Darcy. At the end of this chapter, Caroline will stop talking when she doesn't feel safe to continue.

“I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton?"

I have a whole post about this, but an attorney is a "middle class" lawyer, while Mr. Eliot from Persuasion and John Knightley from Emma are likely the gentry level of lawyer. Attorneys did an apprenticeship, barristers went to university, and only one is gentry.

“If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside,” cried Bingley, “it would not make them one jot less agreeable.” “But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world,” replied Darcy. To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters gave it their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the expense of their dear friend’s vulgar relations.

Mr. Bennet and his imprudent lustful marriage and how it screws over his daughters reason #65. In Sense & Sensibility, we hear that Lucy Steele cut all her relations, but that would be pretty awkward since the Bennets live in the same town as her lower class family.

On entering the drawing-room, she found the whole party at loo, and was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them to be playing high, she declined it, and making her sister the excuse, said she would amuse herself, for the short time she could stay below, with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment.

“Do you prefer reading to cards?” said he; “that is rather singular.”

“Miss Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, “despises cards. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else.”

“I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,” cried Elizabeth; “I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.”

Elizabeth Bennet, not a book worm! And she even sets down the book eventually because she prefers to talk. Also, "playing high" could mean anything from high stakes to unlimited stakes, yikes!

This conversation is so funny!

“Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley.” “I wish it may.” “But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire.” “With all my heart: I will buy Pemberley itself, if Darcy will sell it.” “I am talking of possibilities, Charles.” “Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation.”

All of this is clearly Caroline trying to flirt with Darcy, but Charles is not going along with the agenda. I'm pretty sure he's annoying Caroline on purpose. He's not just a push-over, he banters back.

“Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, “is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I daresay, it succeeds; but, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.”

“Undoubtedly,” replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, “there is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable.”

Caroline tries to call Elizabeth a "pick me" girl and Darcy turns it back on her.

Bingley was quite uncomfortable; his sisters declared that they were miserable. They solaced their wretchedness, however, by duets after supper; while he could find no better relief to his feelings than by giving his housekeeper directions that every possible attention might be paid to the sick lady and her sister.

Yes, there is some performance to the Bingley sister's misery, but I still think they like Jane!