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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf @@ -1,14533 +1,14537 @@ -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1342 ***
- [Illustration:
-
- GEORGE ALLEN
- PUBLISHER
-
- 156 CHARING CROSS ROAD
- LONDON
-
- RUSKIN HOUSE
- ]
-
- [Illustration:
-
- _Reading Jane’s Letters._ _Chap 34._
- ]
-
-
-
-
- PRIDE.
- and
- PREJUDICE
-
- by
- Jane Austen,
-
- with a Preface by
- George Saintsbury
- and
- Illustrations by
- Hugh Thomson
-
- [Illustration: 1894]
-
- Ruskin 156. Charing
- House. Cross Road.
-
- London
- George Allen.
-
-
-
-
- CHISWICK PRESS:--CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.
- TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.
-
-
-
-
- [Illustration:
-
- _To J. Comyns Carr
- in acknowledgment of all I
- owe to his friendship and
- advice, these illustrations are
- gratefully inscribed_
-
- _Hugh Thomson_
- ]
-
-
-
-
-PREFACE.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-_Walt Whitman has somewhere a fine and just distinction between “loving
-by allowance” and “loving with personal love.” This distinction applies
-to books as well as to men and women; and in the case of the not very
-numerous authors who are the objects of the personal affection, it
-brings a curious consequence with it. There is much more difference as
-to their best work than in the case of those others who are loved “by
-allowance” by convention, and because it is felt to be the right and
-proper thing to love them. And in the sect--fairly large and yet
-unusually choice--of Austenians or Janites, there would probably be
-found partisans of the claim to primacy of almost every one of the
-novels. To some the delightful freshness and humour of_ Northanger
-Abbey, _its completeness, finish, and_ entrain, _obscure the undoubted
-critical facts that its scale is small, and its scheme, after all, that
-of burlesque or parody, a kind in which the first rank is reached with
-difficulty._ Persuasion, _relatively faint in tone, and not enthralling
-in interest, has devotees who exalt above all the others its exquisite
-delicacy and keeping. The catastrophe of_ Mansfield Park _is admittedly
-theatrical, the hero and heroine are insipid, and the author has almost
-wickedly destroyed all romantic interest by expressly admitting that
-Edmund only took Fanny because Mary shocked him, and that Fanny might
-very likely have taken Crawford if he had been a little more assiduous;
-yet the matchless rehearsal-scenes and the characters of Mrs. Norris and
-others have secured, I believe, a considerable party for it._ Sense and
-Sensibility _has perhaps the fewest out-and-out admirers; but it does
-not want them._
-
-_I suppose, however, that the majority of at least competent votes
-would, all things considered, be divided between_ Emma _and the present
-book; and perhaps the vulgar verdict (if indeed a fondness for Miss
-Austen be not of itself a patent of exemption from any possible charge
-of vulgarity) would go for_ Emma. _It is the larger, the more varied, the
-more popular; the author had by the time of its composition seen rather
-more of the world, and had improved her general, though not her most
-peculiar and characteristic dialogue; such figures as Miss Bates, as the
-Eltons, cannot but unite the suffrages of everybody. On the other hand,
-I, for my part, declare for_ Pride and Prejudice _unhesitatingly. It
-seems to me the most perfect, the most characteristic, the most
-eminently quintessential of its author’s works; and for this contention
-in such narrow space as is permitted to me, I propose here to show
-cause._
-
-_In the first place, the book (it may be barely necessary to remind the
-reader) was in its first shape written very early, somewhere about 1796,
-when Miss Austen was barely twenty-one; though it was revised and
-finished at Chawton some fifteen years later, and was not published till
-1813, only four years before her death. I do not know whether, in this
-combination of the fresh and vigorous projection of youth, and the
-critical revision of middle life, there may be traced the distinct
-superiority in point of construction, which, as it seems to me, it
-possesses over all the others. The plot, though not elaborate, is almost
-regular enough for Fielding; hardly a character, hardly an incident
-could be retrenched without loss to the story. The elopement of Lydia
-and Wickham is not, like that of Crawford and Mrs. Rushworth, a_ coup de
-théâtre; _it connects itself in the strictest way with the course of the
-story earlier, and brings about the denouement with complete propriety.
-All the minor passages--the loves of Jane and Bingley, the advent of Mr.
-Collins, the visit to Hunsford, the Derbyshire tour--fit in after the
-same unostentatious, but masterly fashion. There is no attempt at the
-hide-and-seek, in-and-out business, which in the transactions between
-Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax contributes no doubt a good deal to the
-intrigue of_ Emma, _but contributes it in a fashion which I do not think
-the best feature of that otherwise admirable book. Although Miss Austen
-always liked something of the misunderstanding kind, which afforded her
-opportunities for the display of the peculiar and incomparable talent to
-be noticed presently, she has been satisfied here with the perfectly
-natural occasions provided by the false account of Darcy’s conduct given
-by Wickham, and by the awkwardness (arising with equal naturalness) from
-the gradual transformation of Elizabeth’s own feelings from positive
-aversion to actual love. I do not know whether the all-grasping hand of
-the playwright has ever been laid upon_ Pride and Prejudice; _and I dare
-say that, if it were, the situations would prove not startling or
-garish enough for the footlights, the character-scheme too subtle and
-delicate for pit and gallery. But if the attempt were made, it would
-certainly not be hampered by any of those loosenesses of construction,
-which, sometimes disguised by the conveniences of which the novelist can
-avail himself, appear at once on the stage._
-
-_I think, however, though the thought will doubtless seem heretical to
-more than one school of critics, that construction is not the highest
-merit, the choicest gift, of the novelist. It sets off his other gifts
-and graces most advantageously to the critical eye; and the want of it
-will sometimes mar those graces--appreciably, though not quite
-consciously--to eyes by no means ultra-critical. But a very badly-built
-novel which excelled in pathetic or humorous character, or which
-displayed consummate command of dialogue--perhaps the rarest of all
-faculties--would be an infinitely better thing than a faultless plot
-acted and told by puppets with pebbles in their mouths. And despite the
-ability which Miss Austen has shown in working out the story, I for one
-should put_ Pride and Prejudice _far lower if it did not contain what
-seem to me the very masterpieces of Miss Austen’s humour and of her
-faculty of character-creation--masterpieces who may indeed admit John
-Thorpe, the Eltons, Mrs. Norris, and one or two others to their company,
-but who, in one instance certainly, and perhaps in others, are still
-superior to them._
-
-_The characteristics of Miss Austen’s humour are so subtle and delicate
-that they are, perhaps, at all times easier to apprehend than to
-express, and at any particular time likely to be differently
-apprehended by different persons. To me this humour seems to possess a
-greater affinity, on the whole, to that of Addison than to any other of
-the numerous species of this great British genus. The differences of
-scheme, of time, of subject, of literary convention, are, of course,
-obvious enough; the difference of sex does not, perhaps, count for much,
-for there was a distinctly feminine element in “Mr. Spectator,” and in
-Jane Austen’s genius there was, though nothing mannish, much that was
-masculine. But the likeness of quality consists in a great number of
-common subdivisions of quality--demureness, extreme minuteness of touch,
-avoidance of loud tones and glaring effects. Also there is in both a
-certain not inhuman or unamiable cruelty. It is the custom with those
-who judge grossly to contrast the good nature of Addison with the
-savagery of Swift, the mildness of Miss Austen with the boisterousness
-of Fielding and Smollett, even with the ferocious practical jokes that
-her immediate predecessor, Miss Burney, allowed without very much
-protest. Yet, both in Mr. Addison and in Miss Austen there is, though a
-restrained and well-mannered, an insatiable and ruthless delight in
-roasting and cutting up a fool. A man in the early eighteenth century,
-of course, could push this taste further than a lady in the early
-nineteenth; and no doubt Miss Austen’s principles, as well as her heart,
-would have shrunk from such things as the letter from the unfortunate
-husband in the_ Spectator, _who describes, with all the gusto and all the
-innocence in the world, how his wife and his friend induce him to play
-at blind-man’s-buff. But another_ Spectator _letter--that of the damsel
-of fourteen who wishes to marry Mr. Shapely, and assures her selected
-Mentor that “he admires your_ Spectators _mightily”--might have been
-written by a rather more ladylike and intelligent Lydia Bennet in the
-days of Lydia’s great-grandmother; while, on the other hand, some (I
-think unreasonably) have found “cynicism” in touches of Miss Austen’s
-own, such as her satire of Mrs. Musgrove’s self-deceiving regrets over
-her son. But this word “cynical” is one of the most misused in the
-English language, especially when, by a glaring and gratuitous
-falsification of its original sense, it is applied, not to rough and
-snarling invective, but to gentle and oblique satire. If cynicism means
-the perception of “the other side,” the sense of “the accepted hells
-beneath,” the consciousness that motives are nearly always mixed, and
-that to seem is not identical with to be--if this be cynicism, then
-every man and woman who is not a fool, who does not care to live in a
-fool’s paradise, who has knowledge of nature and the world and life, is
-a cynic. And in that sense Miss Austen certainly was one. She may even
-have been one in the further sense that, like her own Mr. Bennet, she
-took an epicurean delight in dissecting, in displaying, in setting at
-work her fools and her mean persons. I think she did take this delight,
-and I do not think at all the worse of her for it as a woman, while she
-was immensely the better for it as an artist._
-
-_In respect of her art generally, Mr. Goldwin Smith has truly observed
-that “metaphor has been exhausted in depicting the perfection of it,
-combined with the narrowness of her field;” and he has justly added that
-we need not go beyond her own comparison to the art of a miniature
-painter. To make this latter observation quite exact we must not use the
-term miniature in its restricted sense, and must think rather of Memling
-at one end of the history of painting and Meissonier at the other, than
-of Cosway or any of his kind. And I am not so certain that I should
-myself use the word “narrow” in connection with her. If her world is a
-microcosm, the cosmic quality of it is at least as eminent as the
-littleness. She does not touch what she did not feel herself called to
-paint; I am not so sure that she could not have painted what she did not
-feel herself called to touch. It is at least remarkable that in two very
-short periods of writing--one of about three years, and another of not
-much more than five--she executed six capital works, and has not left a
-single failure. It is possible that the romantic paste in her
-composition was defective: we must always remember that hardly
-anybody born in her decade--that of the eighteenth-century
-seventies--independently exhibited the full romantic quality. Even Scott
-required hill and mountain and ballad, even Coleridge metaphysics and
-German to enable them to chip the classical shell. Miss Austen was an
-English girl, brought up in a country retirement, at the time when
-ladies went back into the house if there was a white frost which might
-pierce their kid shoes, when a sudden cold was the subject of the
-gravest fears, when their studies, their ways, their conduct were
-subject to all those fantastic limits and restrictions against which
-Mary Wollstonecraft protested with better general sense than particular
-taste or judgment. Miss Austen, too, drew back when the white frost
-touched her shoes; but I think she would have made a pretty good journey
-even in a black one._
-
-_For if her knowledge was not very extended, she knew two things which
-only genius knows. The one was humanity, and the other was art. On the
-first head she could not make a mistake; her men, though limited, are
-true, and her women are, in the old sense, “absolute.” As to art, if she
-has never tried idealism, her realism is real to a degree which makes
-the false realism of our own day look merely dead-alive. Take almost any
-Frenchman, except the late M. de Maupassant, and watch him laboriously
-piling up strokes in the hope of giving a complete impression. You get
-none; you are lucky if, discarding two-thirds of what he gives, you can
-shape a real impression out of the rest. But with Miss Austen the
-myriad, trivial, unforced strokes build up the picture like magic.
-Nothing is false; nothing is superfluous. When (to take the present book
-only) Mr. Collins changed his mind from Jane to Elizabeth “while Mrs.
-Bennet was stirring the fire” (and we know_ how _Mrs. Bennet would have
-stirred the fire), when Mr. Darcy “brought his coffee-cup back_
-himself,” _the touch in each case is like that of Swift--“taller by the
-breadth of my nail”--which impressed the half-reluctant Thackeray with
-just and outspoken admiration. Indeed, fantastic as it may seem, I
-should put Miss Austen as near to Swift in some ways, as I have put her
-to Addison in others._
-
-_This Swiftian quality appears in the present novel as it appears
-nowhere else in the character of the immortal, the ineffable Mr.
-Collins. Mr. Collins is really_ great; _far greater than anything Addison
-ever did, almost great enough for Fielding or for Swift himself. It has
-been said that no one ever was like him. But in the first place,_ he
-_was like him; he is there--alive, imperishable, more real than hundreds
-of prime ministers and archbishops, of “metals, semi-metals, and
-distinguished philosophers.” In the second place, it is rash, I think,
-to conclude that an actual Mr. Collins was impossible or non-existent at
-the end of the eighteenth century. It is very interesting that we
-possess, in this same gallery, what may be called a spoiled first
-draught, or an unsuccessful study of him, in John Dashwood. The
-formality, the under-breeding, the meanness, are there; but the portrait
-is only half alive, and is felt to be even a little unnatural. Mr.
-Collins is perfectly natural, and perfectly alive. In fact, for all the
-“miniature,” there is something gigantic in the way in which a certain
-side, and more than one, of humanity, and especially eighteenth-century
-humanity, its Philistinism, its well-meaning but hide-bound morality,
-its formal pettiness, its grovelling respect for rank, its materialism,
-its selfishness, receives exhibition. I will not admit that one speech
-or one action of this inestimable man is incapable of being reconciled
-with reality, and I should not wonder if many of these words and actions
-are historically true._
-
-_But the greatness of Mr. Collins could not have been so satisfactorily
-exhibited if his creatress had not adjusted so artfully to him the
-figures of Mr. Bennet and of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. The latter, like
-Mr. Collins himself, has been charged with exaggeration. There is,
-perhaps, a very faint shade of colour for the charge; but it seems to me
-very faint indeed. Even now I do not think that it would be impossible
-to find persons, especially female persons, not necessarily of noble
-birth, as overbearing, as self-centred, as neglectful of good manners,
-as Lady Catherine. A hundred years ago, an earl’s daughter, the Lady
-Powerful (if not exactly Bountiful) of an out-of-the-way country parish,
-rich, long out of marital authority, and so forth, had opportunities of
-developing these agreeable characteristics which seldom present
-themselves now. As for Mr. Bennet, Miss Austen, and Mr. Darcy, and even
-Miss Elizabeth herself, were, I am inclined to think, rather hard on him
-for the “impropriety” of his conduct. His wife was evidently, and must
-always have been, a quite irreclaimable fool; and unless he had shot her
-or himself there was no way out of it for a man of sense and spirit but
-the ironic. From no other point of view is he open to any reproach,
-except for an excusable and not unnatural helplessness at the crisis of
-the elopement, and his utterances are the most acutely delightful in the
-consciously humorous kind--in the kind that we laugh with, not at--that
-even Miss Austen has put into the mouth of any of her characters. It is
-difficult to know whether he is most agreeable when talking to his wife,
-or when putting Mr. Collins through his paces; but the general sense of
-the world has probably been right in preferring to the first rank his
-consolation to the former when she maunders over the entail, “My dear,
-do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for better things.
-Let us flatter ourselves that_ I _may be the survivor;” and his inquiry
-to his colossal cousin as to the compliments which Mr. Collins has just
-related as made by himself to Lady Catherine, “May I ask whether these
-pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the
-result of previous study?” These are the things which give Miss Austen’s
-readers the pleasant shocks, the delightful thrills, which are felt by
-the readers of Swift, of Fielding, and we may here add, of Thackeray, as
-they are felt by the readers of no other English author of fiction
-outside of these four._
-
-_The goodness of the minor characters in_ Pride and Prejudice _has been
-already alluded to, and it makes a detailed dwelling on their beauties
-difficult in any space, and impossible in this. Mrs. Bennet we have
-glanced at, and it is not easy to say whether she is more exquisitely
-amusing or more horribly true. Much the same may be said of Kitty and
-Lydia; but it is not every author, even of genius, who would have
-differentiated with such unerring skill the effects of folly and
-vulgarity of intellect and disposition working upon the common
-weaknesses of woman at such different ages. With Mary, Miss Austen has
-taken rather less pains, though she has been even more unkind to her;
-not merely in the text, but, as we learn from those interesting
-traditional appendices which Mr. Austen Leigh has given us, in dooming
-her privately to marry “one of Mr. Philips’s clerks.” The habits of
-first copying and then retailing moral sentiments, of playing and
-singing too long in public, are, no doubt, grievous and criminal; but
-perhaps poor Mary was rather the scapegoat of the sins of blue stockings
-in that Fordyce-belectured generation. It is at any rate difficult not
-to extend to her a share of the respect and affection (affection and
-respect of a peculiar kind; doubtless), with which one regards Mr.
-Collins, when she draws the moral of Lydia’s fall. I sometimes wish
-that the exigencies of the story had permitted Miss Austen to unite
-these personages, and thus at once achieve a notable mating and soothe
-poor Mrs. Bennet’s anguish over the entail._
-
-_The Bingleys and the Gardiners and the Lucases, Miss Darcy and Miss de
-Bourgh, Jane, Wickham, and the rest, must pass without special comment,
-further than the remark that Charlotte Lucas (her egregious papa, though
-delightful, is just a little on the thither side of the line between
-comedy and farce) is a wonderfully clever study in drab of one kind, and
-that Wickham (though something of Miss Austen’s hesitation of touch in
-dealing with young men appears) is a not much less notable sketch in
-drab of another. Only genius could have made Charlotte what she is, yet
-not disagreeable; Wickham what he is, without investing him either with
-a cheap Don Juanish attractiveness or a disgusting rascality. But the
-hero and the heroine are not tints to be dismissed._
-
-_Darcy has always seemed to me by far the best and most interesting of
-Miss Austen’s heroes; the only possible competitor being Henry Tilney,
-whose part is so slight and simple that it hardly enters into
-comparison. It has sometimes, I believe, been urged that his pride is
-unnatural at first in its expression and later in its yielding, while
-his falling in love at all is not extremely probable. Here again I
-cannot go with the objectors. Darcy’s own account of the way in which
-his pride had been pampered, is perfectly rational and sufficient; and
-nothing could be, psychologically speaking, a_ causa verior _for its
-sudden restoration to healthy conditions than the shock of Elizabeth’s
-scornful refusal acting on a nature_ ex hypothesi _generous. Nothing in
-even our author is finer and more delicately touched than the change of
-his demeanour at the sudden meeting in the grounds of Pemberley. Had he
-been a bad prig or a bad coxcomb, he might have been still smarting
-under his rejection, or suspicious that the girl had come
-husband-hunting. His being neither is exactly consistent with the
-probable feelings of a man spoilt in the common sense, but not really
-injured in disposition, and thoroughly in love. As for his being in
-love, Elizabeth has given as just an exposition of the causes of that
-phenomenon as Darcy has of the conditions of his unregenerate state,
-only she has of course not counted in what was due to her own personal
-charm._
-
-_The secret of that charm many men and not a few women, from Miss Austen
-herself downwards, have felt, and like most charms it is a thing rather
-to be felt than to be explained. Elizabeth of course belongs to the_
-allegro _or_ allegra _division of the army of Venus. Miss Austen was
-always provokingly chary of description in regard to her beauties; and
-except the fine eyes, and a hint or two that she had at any rate
-sometimes a bright complexion, and was not very tall, we hear nothing
-about her looks. But her chief difference from other heroines of the
-lively type seems to lie first in her being distinctly clever--almost
-strong-minded, in the better sense of that objectionable word--and
-secondly in her being entirely destitute of ill-nature for all her
-propensity to tease and the sharpness of her tongue. Elizabeth can give
-at least as good as she gets when she is attacked; but she never
-“scratches,” and she never attacks first. Some of the merest
-obsoletenesses of phrase and manner give one or two of her early
-speeches a slight pertness, but that is nothing, and when she comes to
-serious business, as in the great proposal scene with Darcy (which is,
-as it should be, the climax of the interest of the book), and in the
-final ladies’ battle with Lady Catherine, she is unexceptionable. Then
-too she is a perfectly natural girl. She does not disguise from herself
-or anybody that she resents Darcy’s first ill-mannered personality with
-as personal a feeling. (By the way, the reproach that the ill-manners of
-this speech are overdone is certainly unjust; for things of the same
-kind, expressed no doubt less stiltedly but more coarsely, might have
-been heard in more than one ball-room during this very year from persons
-who ought to have been no worse bred than Darcy.) And she lets the
-injury done to Jane and the contempt shown to the rest of her family
-aggravate this resentment in the healthiest way in the world._
-
-_Still, all this does not explain her charm, which, taking beauty as a
-common form of all heroines, may perhaps consist in the addition to her
-playfulness, her wit, her affectionate and natural disposition, of a
-certain fearlessness very uncommon in heroines of her type and age.
-Nearly all of them would have been in speechless awe of the magnificent
-Darcy; nearly all of them would have palpitated and fluttered at the
-idea of proposals, even naughty ones, from the fascinating Wickham.
-Elizabeth, with nothing offensive, nothing_ viraginous, _nothing of the
-“New Woman” about her, has by nature what the best modern (not “new”)
-women have by education and experience, a perfect freedom from the idea
-that all men may bully her if they choose, and that most will away with
-her if they can. Though not in the least “impudent and mannish grown,”
-she has no mere sensibility, no nasty niceness about her. The form of
-passion common and likely to seem natural in Miss Austen’s day was so
-invariably connected with the display of one or the other, or both of
-these qualities, that she has not made Elizabeth outwardly passionate.
-But I, at least, have not the slightest doubt that she would have
-married Darcy just as willingly without Pemberley as with it, and
-anybody who can read between lines will not find the lovers’
-conversations in the final chapters so frigid as they might have looked
-to the Della Cruscans of their own day, and perhaps do look to the Della
-Cruscans of this._
-
-_And, after all, what is the good of seeking for the reason of
-charm?--it is there. There were better sense in the sad mechanic
-exercise of determining the reason of its absence where it is not. In
-the novels of the last hundred years there are vast numbers of young
-ladies with whom it might be a pleasure to fall in love; there are at
-least five with whom, as it seems to me, no man of taste and spirit can
-help doing so. Their names are, in chronological order, Elizabeth
-Bennet, Diana Vernon, Argemone Lavington, Beatrix Esmond, and Barbara
-Grant. I should have been most in love with Beatrix and Argemone; I
-should, I think, for mere occasional companionship, have preferred Diana
-and Barbara. But to live with and to marry, I do not know that any one
-of the four can come into competition with Elizabeth._
-
-_GEORGE SAINTSBURY._
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: List of Illustrations.]
-
-
- PAGE
-
-Frontispiece iv
-
-Title-page v
-
-Dedication vii
-
-Heading to Preface ix
-
-Heading to List of Illustrations xxv
-
-Heading to Chapter I. 1
-
-“He came down to see the place” 2
-
-Mr. and Mrs. Bennet 5
-
-“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it” 6
-
-“I’m the tallest” 9
-
-“He rode a black horse” 10
-
-“When the party entered” 12
-
-“She is tolerable” 15
-
-Heading to Chapter IV. 18
-
-Heading to Chapter V. 22
-
-“Without once opening his lips” 24
-
-Tailpiece to Chapter V. 26
-
-Heading to Chapter VI. 27
-
-“The entreaties of several” 31
-
-“A note for Miss Bennet” 36
-
-“Cheerful prognostics” 40
-
-“The apothecary came” 43
-
-“Covering a screen” 45
-
-“Mrs. Bennet and her two youngest girls” 53
-
-Heading to Chapter X. 60
-
-“No, no; stay where you are” 67
-
-“Piling up the fire” 69
-
-Heading to Chapter XII. 75
-
-Heading to Chapter XIII. 78
-
-Heading to Chapter XIV. 84
-
-“Protested that he never read novels” 87
-
-Heading to Chapter XV. 89
-
-Heading to Chapter XVI. 95
-
-“The officers of the ----shire” 97
-
-“Delighted to see their dear friend again” 108
-
-Heading to Chapter XVIII. 113
-
-“Such very superior dancing is not often seen” 118
-
-“To assure you in the most animated language” 132
-
-Heading to Chapter XX. 139
-
-“They entered the breakfast-room” 143
-
-Heading to Chapter XXI. 146
-
-“Walked back with them” 148
-
-Heading to Chapter XXII. 154
-
-“So much love and eloquence” 156
-
-“Protested he must be entirely mistaken” 161
-
-“Whenever she spoke in a low voice” 166
-
-Heading to Chapter XXIV. 168
-
-Heading to Chapter XXV. 175
-
-“Offended two or three young ladies” 177
-
-“Will you come and see me?” 181
-
-“On the stairs” 189
-
-“At the door” 194
-
-“In conversation with the ladies” 198
-
-“Lady Catherine,” said she, “you have given me a treasure” 200
-
-Heading to Chapter XXX. 209
-
-“He never failed to inform them” 211
-
-“The gentlemen accompanied him” 213
-
-Heading to Chapter XXXI. 215
-
-Heading to Chapter XXXII. 221
-
-“Accompanied by their aunt” 225
-
-“On looking up” 228
-
-Heading to Chapter XXXIV. 235
-
-“Hearing herself called” 243
-
-Heading to Chapter XXXVI. 253
-
-“Meeting accidentally in town” 256
-
-“His parting obeisance” 261
-
-“Dawson” 263
-
-“The elevation of his feelings” 267
-
-“They had forgotten to leave any message” 270
-
-“How nicely we are crammed in!” 272
-
-Heading to Chapter XL. 278
-
-“I am determined never to speak of it again” 283
-
-“When Colonel Miller’s regiment went away” 285
-
-“Tenderly flirting” 290
-
-The arrival of the Gardiners 294
-
-“Conjecturing as to the date” 301
-
-Heading to Chapter XLIV. 318
-
-“To make herself agreeable to all” 321
-
-“Engaged by the river” 327
-
-Heading to Chapter XLVI. 334
-
-“I have not an instant to lose” 339
-
-“The first pleasing earnest of their welcome” 345
-
-The Post 359
-
-“To whom I have related the affair” 363
-
-Heading to Chapter XLIX. 368
-
-“But perhaps you would like to read it” 370
-
-“The spiteful old ladies” 377
-
-“With an affectionate smile” 385
-
-“I am sure she did not listen” 393
-
-“Mr. Darcy with him” 404
-
-“Jane happened to look round” 415
-
-“Mrs. Long and her nieces” 420
-
-“Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak to you” 422
-
-Heading to Chapter LVI. 431
-
-“After a short survey” 434
-
-“But now it comes out” 442
-
-“The efforts of his aunt” 448
-
-“Unable to utter a syllable” 457
-
-“The obsequious civility” 466
-
-Heading to Chapter LXI. 472
-
-The End 476
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: ·PRIDE AND PREJUDICE·
-
-
-
-
-Chapter I.]
-
-
-It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession
-of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
-
-However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his
-first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds
-of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful
-property of some one or other of their daughters.
-
-“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that
-Netherfield Park is let at last?”
-
-Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.
-
-“But it is,” returned she; “for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she
-told me all about it.”
-
-Mr. Bennet made no answer.
-
-“Do not you want to know who has taken it?” cried his wife, impatiently.
-
-“_You_ want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.”
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“He came down to see the place”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-This was invitation enough.
-
-“Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken
-by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came
-down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much
-delighted with it that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is
-to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be
-in the house by the end of next week.”
-
-“What is his name?”
-
-“Bingley.”
-
-“Is he married or single?”
-
-“Oh, single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or
-five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!”
-
-“How so? how can it affect them?”
-
-“My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “how can you be so tiresome? You
-must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.”
-
-“Is that his design in settling here?”
-
-“Design? Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he
-_may_ fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as
-soon as he comes.”
-
-“I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go--or you may send
-them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better; for as you are
-as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley might like you the best of the
-party.”
-
-“My dear, you flatter me. I certainly _have_ had my share of beauty, but
-I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has five
-grown-up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty.”
-
-“In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of.”
-
-“But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into
-the neighbourhood.”
-
-“It is more than I engage for, I assure you.”
-
-“But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would
-be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go,
-merely on that account; for in general, you know, they visit no new
-comers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for _us_ to visit
-him, if you do not.”
-
-“You are over scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very
-glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my
-hearty consent to his marrying whichever he chooses of the girls--though
-I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.”
-
-“I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the
-others: and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so
-good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving _her_ the preference.”
-
-“They have none of them much to recommend them,” replied he: “they are
-all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy has something more of
-quickness than her sisters.”
-
-“Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take
-delight in vexing me. You have no compassion on my poor nerves.”
-
-“You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They
-are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration
-these twenty years at least.”
-
-“Ah, you do not know what I suffer.”
-
-“But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four
-thousand a year come into the neighbourhood.”
-
-“It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not
-visit them.”
-
-“Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them
-all.”
-
-Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour,
-reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had
-been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. _Her_ mind
-was less difficult to develope. She was a woman of mean understanding,
-little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she
-fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her
-daughters married: its solace was visiting and news.
-
-[Illustration: M^{r.} & M^{rs.} Bennet
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley. He
-had always intended to visit him, though to the last always assuring his
-wife that he should not go; and till the evening after the visit was
-paid she had no knowledge of it. It was then disclosed in the following
-manner. Observing his second daughter employed in trimming a hat, he
-suddenly addressed her with,--
-
-“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.”
-
-“We are not in a way to know _what_ Mr. Bingley likes,” said her mother,
-resentfully, “since we are not to visit.”
-
-“But you forget, mamma,” said Elizabeth, “that we shall meet him at the
-assemblies, and that Mrs. Long has promised to introduce him.”
-
-“I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two nieces
-of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion
-of her.”
-
-“No more have I,” said Mr. Bennet; “and I am glad to find that you do
-not depend on her serving you.”
-
-Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply; but, unable to contain
-herself, began scolding one of her daughters.
-
-“Don’t keep coughing so, Kitty, for heaven’s sake! Have a little
-compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.”
-
-“Kitty has no discretion in her coughs,” said her father; “she times
-them ill.”
-
-“I do not cough for my own amusement,” replied Kitty, fretfully. “When
-is your next ball to be, Lizzy?”
-
-“To-morrow fortnight.”
-
-“Ay, so it is,” cried her mother, “and Mrs. Long does not come back till
-the day before; so, it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for
-she will not know him herself.”
-
-“Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce
-Mr. Bingley to _her_.”
-
-“Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him
-myself; how can you be so teasing?”
-
-“I honour your circumspection. A fortnight’s acquaintance is certainly
-very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a
-fortnight. But if _we_ do not venture, somebody else will; and after
-all, Mrs. Long and her nieces must stand their chance; and, therefore,
-as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I
-will take it on myself.”
-
-The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only, “Nonsense,
-nonsense!”
-
-“What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?” cried he. “Do
-you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on
-them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you _there_. What say you,
-Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read
-great books, and make extracts.”
-
-Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how.
-
-“While Mary is adjusting her ideas,” he continued, “let us return to Mr.
-Bingley.”
-
-“I am sick of Mr. Bingley,” cried his wife.
-
-“I am sorry to hear _that_; but why did you not tell me so before? If I
-had known as much this morning, I certainly would not have called on
-him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we
-cannot escape the acquaintance now.”
-
-The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished--that of Mrs.
-Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though when the first tumult of joy
-was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the
-while.
-
-“How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should
-persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well to
-neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! And it is such a
-good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning, and never said a
-word about it till now.”
-
-“Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose,” said Mr. Bennet; and,
-as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife.
-
-“What an excellent father you have, girls,” said she, when the door was
-shut. “I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness;
-or me either, for that matter. At our time of life, it is not so
-pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances every day; but
-for your sakes we would do anything. Lydia, my love, though you _are_
-the youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next
-ball.”
-
-“Oh,” said Lydia, stoutly, “I am not afraid; for though I _am_ the
-youngest, I’m the tallest.”
-
-The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he would
-return Mr. Bennet’s visit, and determining when they should ask him to
-dinner.
-
-[Illustration: “I’m the tallest”]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “He rode a black horse”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Not all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five
-daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw from her
-husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. They attacked him
-in various ways, with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and
-distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all; and they were at
-last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour,
-Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable. Sir William had been
-delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely
-agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly
-with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of
-dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively
-hopes of Mr. Bingley’s heart were entertained.
-
-“If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,”
-said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well
-married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”
-
-In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet’s visit, and sat about ten
-minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being
-admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard
-much; but he saw only the father. The ladies were somewhat more
-fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining, from an upper
-window, that he wore a blue coat and rode a black horse.
-
-An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards despatched; and already had
-Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her
-housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Bingley
-was obliged to be in town the following day, and consequently unable to
-accept the honour of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite
-disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town
-so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that
-he might always be flying about from one place to another, and never
-settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Lucas quieted her fears a
-little by starting the idea of his
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “When the Party entered”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-being gone to London only to get a large party for the ball; and a
-report soon followed that Mr. Bingley was to bring twelve ladies and
-seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls grieved over such a
-number of ladies; but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing
-that, instead of twelve, he had brought only six with him from London,
-his five sisters and a cousin. And when the party entered the
-assembly-room, it consisted of only five altogether: Mr. Bingley, his
-two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and another young man.
-
-Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike: he had a pleasant
-countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women,
-with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely
-looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention
-of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and
-the report, which was in general circulation within five minutes after
-his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. The gentlemen
-pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was
-much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great
-admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust
-which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be
-proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his
-large estate in Derbyshire could save him from having a most forbidding,
-disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his
-friend.
-
-Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal
-people in the room: he was lively and unreserved, danced every dance,
-was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one
-himself at Netherfield. Such amiable qualities must speak for
-themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced
-only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being
-introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in
-walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party.
-His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in
-the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again.
-Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of
-his general behaviour was sharpened into particular resentment by his
-having slighted one of her daughters.
-
-Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit
-down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr. Darcy had been
-standing near enough for her to overhear a conversation between him and
-Mr. Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes to press his
-friend to join it.
-
-“Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you
-standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better
-dance.”
-
-“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am
-particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it
-would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not
-another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to
-stand up with.”
-
-“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Bingley, “for a
-kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my
-life as I have this evening; and there are several of them, you see,
-uncommonly pretty.”
-
-“_You_ are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr.
-Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.
-
-“Oh, she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one
-of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I
-dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“She is tolerable”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-“Which do you mean?” and turning round, he looked for a moment at
-Elizabeth, till, catching her eye, he withdrew his own, and coldly said,
-“She is tolerable: but not handsome enough to tempt _me_; and I am in no
-humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted
-by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her
-smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”
-
-Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth
-remained with no very cordial feelings towards him. She told the story,
-however, with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively,
-playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.
-
-The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs.
-Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield
-party. Mr. Bingley had danced with her twice, and she had been
-distinguished by his sisters. Jane was as much gratified by this as her
-mother could be, though in a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane’s
-pleasure. Mary had heard herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most
-accomplished girl in the neighbourhood; and Catherine and Lydia had been
-fortunate enough to be never without partners, which was all that they
-had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned, therefore, in good
-spirits to Longbourn, the village where they lived, and of which they
-were the principal inhabitants. They found Mr. Bennet still up. With a
-book, he was regardless of time; and on the present occasion he had a
-good deal of curiosity as to the event of an evening which had raised
-such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that all his wife’s
-views on the stranger would be disappointed; but he soon found that he
-had a very different story to hear.
-
-“Oh, my dear Mr. Bennet,” as she entered the room, “we have had a most
-delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there.
-Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it. Everybody said how well
-she looked; and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with
-her twice. Only think of _that_, my dear: he actually danced with her
-twice; and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second
-time. First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand
-up with her; but, however, he did not admire her at all; indeed, nobody
-can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was going
-down the dance. So he inquired who she was, and got introduced, and
-asked her for the two next. Then, the two third he danced with Miss
-King, and the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane
-again, and the two sixth with Lizzy, and the _Boulanger_----”
-
-“If he had had any compassion for _me_,” cried her husband impatiently,
-“he would not have danced half so much! For God’s sake, say no more of
-his partners. O that he had sprained his ancle in the first dance!”
-
-“Oh, my dear,” continued Mrs. Bennet, “I am quite delighted with him. He
-is so excessively handsome! and his sisters are charming women. I never
-in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses. I dare say the
-lace upon Mrs. Hurst’s gown----”
-
-Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet protested against any
-description of finery. She was therefore obliged to seek another branch
-of the subject, and related, with much bitterness of spirit, and some
-exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. Darcy.
-
-“But I can assure you,” she added, “that Lizzy does not lose much by not
-suiting _his_ fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at
-all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited, that there was no enduring
-him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very
-great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my
-dear, to have given him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man.”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in
-her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister how very much
-she admired him.
-
-“He is just what a young-man ought to be,” said she, “sensible,
-good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! so much ease,
-with such perfect good breeding!”
-
-“He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man ought
-likewise to be if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete.”
-
-“I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I
-did not expect such a compliment.”
-
-“Did not you? _I_ did for you. But that is one great difference between
-us. Compliments always take _you_ by surprise, and _me_ never. What
-could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help
-seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in
-the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is
-very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a
-stupider person.”
-
-“Dear Lizzy!”
-
-“Oh, you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general.
-You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable
-in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in my life.”
-
-“I would wish not to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always speak
-what I think.”
-
-“I know you do: and it is _that_ which makes the wonder. With _your_
-good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of
-others! Affectation of candour is common enough; one meets with it
-everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design,--to take the
-good of everybody’s character and make it still better, and say nothing
-of the bad,--belongs to you alone. And so, you like this man’s sisters,
-too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his.”
-
-“Certainly not, at first; but they are very pleasing women when you
-converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother, and keep
-his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming
-neighbour in her.”
-
-Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced: their behaviour at
-the assembly had not been calculated to please in general; and with more
-quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than her sister, and
-with a judgment, too, unassailed by any attention to herself, she was
-very little disposed to approve them. They were, in fact, very fine
-ladies; not deficient in good-humour when they were pleased, nor in the
-power of being agreeable where they chose it; but proud and conceited.
-They were rather handsome; had been educated in one of the first private
-seminaries in town; had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds; were in the
-habit of spending more than they ought, and of associating with people
-of rank; and were, therefore, in every respect entitled to think well of
-themselves and meanly of others. They were of a respectable family in
-the north of England; a circumstance more deeply impressed on their
-memories than that their brother’s fortune and their own had been
-acquired by trade.
-
-Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly a hundred
-thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate,
-but did not live to do it. Mr. Bingley intended it likewise, and
-sometimes made choice of his county; but, as he was now provided with a
-good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those
-who best knew the easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the
-remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to
-purchase.
-
-His sisters were very anxious for his having an estate of his own; but
-though he was now established only as a tenant, Miss Bingley was by no
-means unwilling to preside at his table; nor was Mrs. Hurst, who had
-married a man of more fashion than fortune, less disposed to consider
-his house as her home when it suited her. Mr. Bingley had not been of
-age two years when he was tempted, by an accidental recommendation, to
-look at Netherfield House. He did look at it, and into it, for half an
-hour; was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied
-with what the owner said in its praise, and took it immediately.
-
-Between him and Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in spite of a
-great opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the
-easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, though no disposition
-could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he
-never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy’s regard, Bingley
-had the firmest reliance, and of his judgment the highest opinion. In
-understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means
-deficient; but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty,
-reserved, and fastidious; and his manners, though well bred, were not
-inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley
-was sure of being liked wherever he appeared; Darcy was continually
-giving offence.
-
-The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently
-characteristic. Bingley had never met with pleasanter people or prettier
-girls in his life; everybody had been most kind and attentive to him;
-there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted
-with all the room; and as to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel
-more beautiful. Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people
-in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had
-felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or
-pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty; but she smiled too
-much.
-
-Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so; but still they admired
-her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet girl, and one whom
-they should not object to know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore
-established as a sweet girl; and their brother felt authorized by such
-commendation to think of her as he chose.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: [_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the Bennets
-were particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas had been formerly in trade
-in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune, and risen to the
-honour of knighthood by an address to the king during his mayoralty. The
-distinction had, perhaps, been felt too strongly. It had given him a
-disgust to his business and to his residence in a small market town;
-and, quitting them both, he had removed with his family to a house about
-a mile from Meryton, denominated from that period Lucas Lodge; where he
-could think with pleasure of his own importance, and, unshackled by
-business, occupy himself solely in being civil to all the world. For,
-though elated by his rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the
-contrary, he was all attention to everybody. By nature inoffensive,
-friendly, and obliging, his presentation at St. James’s had made him
-courteous.
-
-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_.”
-
-“I beg you will not put it into Lizzy’s head to be vexed by his
-ill-treatment, for he is such a disagreeable man that it would be quite
-a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he
-sat close to her for half an hour without once opening his lips.”
-
-[Illustration: “Without once opening his lips”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-“Are you quite sure, ma’am? Is not there a little mistake?” said Jane.
-“I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her.”
-
-“Ay, because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he
-could not help answering her; but she said he seemed very angry at being
-spoke to.”
-
-“Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much unless
-among his intimate acquaintance. With _them_ he is remarkably
-agreeable.”
-
-“I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very
-agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it
-was; everybody says that he is eat up with pride, and I dare say he had
-heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had to come
-to the ball in a hack chaise.”
-
-“I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long,” said Miss Lucas, “but I
-wish he had danced with Eliza.”
-
-“Another time, Lizzy,” said her mother, “I would not dance with _him_,
-if I were you.”
-
-“I believe, ma’am, I may safely promise you _never_ to dance with him.”
-
-“His pride,” said Miss Lucas, “does not offend _me_ so much as pride
-often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so
-very fine a young man, with family, fortune, everything in his favour,
-should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a _right_
-to be proud.”
-
-“That is very true,” replied Elizabeth, “and I could easily forgive
-_his_ pride, if he had not mortified _mine_.”
-
-“Pride,” observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her
-reflections, “is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have
-ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human
-nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us
-who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some
-quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different
-things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be
-proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of
-ourselves; vanity to what we would have others think of us.”
-
-“If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy,” cried a young Lucas, who came with his
-sisters, “I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of
-foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine every day.”
-
-“Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought,” said Mrs.
-Bennet; “and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle
-directly.”
-
-The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she
-would; and the argument ended only with the visit.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit
-was returned in due form. Miss Bennet’s pleasing manners grew on the
-good-will of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and though the mother was
-found to be intolerable, and the younger sisters not worth speaking to,
-a wish of being better acquainted with _them_ was expressed towards the
-two eldest. By Jane this attention was received with the greatest
-pleasure; but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their treatment of
-everybody, hardly excepting even her sister, and could not like them;
-though their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value, as arising,
-in all probability, from the influence of their brother’s admiration. It
-was generally evident, whenever they met, that he _did_ admire her; and
-to _her_ it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference
-which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a
-way to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure that it
-was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane
-united with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and an
-uniform cheerfulness of manner, which would guard her from the
-suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend, Miss
-Lucas.
-
-“It may, perhaps, be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to impose
-on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be
-so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill
-from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and
-it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the
-dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every
-attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all
-_begin_ freely--a slight preference is natural enough; but there are
-very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without
-encouragement. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better show _more_
-affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he
-may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on.”
-
-“But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If _I_ can
-perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton indeed not to
-discover it too.”
-
-“Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane’s disposition as you do.”
-
-“But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavor to conceal
-it, he must find it out.”
-
-“Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But though Bingley and Jane
-meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and as they
-always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that
-every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should
-therefore make the most of every half hour in which she can command his
-attention. When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling
-in love as much as she chooses.”
-
-“Your plan is a good one,” replied Elizabeth, “where nothing is in
-question but the desire of being well married; and if I were determined
-to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But
-these are not Jane’s feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet she
-cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard, nor of its
-reasonableness. She has known him only a fortnight. She danced four
-dances with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house,
-and has since dined in company with him four times. This is not quite
-enough to make her understand his character.”
-
-“Not as you represent it. Had she merely _dined_ with him, she might
-only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but you must
-remember that four evenings have been also spent together--and four
-evenings may do a great deal.”
-
-“Yes: these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both
-like Vingt-un better than Commerce, but with respect to any other
-leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded.”
-
-“Well,” said Charlotte, “I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if
-she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a
-chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a
-twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If
-the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or
-ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the
-least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to
-have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as
-possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your
-life.”
-
-“You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not
-sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself.”
-
-Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley’s attention to her sister, Elizabeth
-was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some
-interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely
-allowed her to be pretty: he had looked at her without admiration at the
-ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no
-sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had
-hardly a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered
-uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To
-this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had
-detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry
-in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and
-pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those
-of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of
-this she was perfectly unaware: to her he was only the man who made
-himself agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought her handsome enough
-to dance with.
-
-He began to wish to know more of her; and, as a step towards conversing
-with her himself, attended to her conversation with others. His doing so
-drew her notice. It was at Sir William Lucas’s, where a large party were
-assembled.
-
-“What does Mr. Darcy mean,” said she to Charlotte, “by listening to my
-conversation with Colonel Forster?”
-
-“That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer.”
-
-“But if he does it any more, I shall certainly let him know that I see
-what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by
-being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him.”
-
-[Illustration: “The entreaties of several” [_Copyright 1894 by George
-Allen._]]
-
-On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have
-any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such
-a subject to him, which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she
-turned to him and said,--
-
-“Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well
-just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at
-Meryton?”
-
-“With great energy; but it is a subject which always makes a lady
-energetic.”
-
-“You are severe on us.”
-
-“It will be _her_ turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas. “I am going
-to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.”
-
-“You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!--always wanting me
-to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a
-musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would
-really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of
-hearing the very best performers.” On Miss Lucas’s persevering, however,
-she added, “Very well; if it must be so, it must.” And gravely glancing
-at Mr. Darcy, “There is a very fine old saying, which everybody here is
-of course familiar with--‘Keep your breath to cool your porridge,’--and
-I shall keep mine to swell my song.”
-
-Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song
-or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she
-would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her
-sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in
-the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always
-impatient for display.
-
-Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her
-application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited
-manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she
-had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with
-much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the
-end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by
-Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who with
-some of the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in
-dancing at one end of the room.
-
-Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of
-passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too
-much engrossed by his own thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas
-was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began:--
-
-“What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is
-nothing like dancing, after all. I consider it as one of the first
-refinements of polished societies.”
-
-“Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst
-the less polished societies of the world: every savage can dance.”
-
-Sir William only smiled. “Your friend performs delightfully,” he
-continued, after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; “and I doubt
-not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy.”
-
-“You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir.”
-
-“Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do
-you often dance at St. James’s?”
-
-“Never, sir.”
-
-“Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?”
-
-“It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it.”
-
-“You have a house in town, I conclude?”
-
-Mr. Darcy bowed.
-
-“I had once some thoughts of fixing in town myself, for I am fond of
-superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of
-London would agree with Lady Lucas.”
-
-He paused in hopes of an answer: but his companion was not disposed to
-make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving towards them, he was
-struck with the notion of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to
-her,--
-
-“My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow
-me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You
-cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.”
-And, taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy, who, though
-extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly
-drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William,--
-
-“Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you
-not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.”
-
-Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the honour of
-her hand, but in vain. Elizabeth was determined; nor did Sir William at
-all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion.
-
-“You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me
-the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the
-amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us
-for one half hour.”
-
-“Mr. Darcy is all politeness,” said Elizabeth, smiling.
-
-“He is, indeed: but considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we
-cannot wonder at his complaisance; for who would object to such a
-partner?”
-
-Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not injured
-her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her with some
-complacency, when thus accosted by Miss Bingley,--
-
-“I can guess the subject of your reverie.”
-
-“I should imagine not.”
-
-“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many
-evenings in this manner,--in such society; and, indeed, I am quite of
-your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the
-noise--the nothingness, and yet the self-importance, of all these
-people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!”
-
-“Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more
-agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure
-which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.”
-
-Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he
-would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections.
-Mr. Darcy replied, with great intrepidity,--
-
-“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
-
-“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” repeated Miss Bingley. “I am all astonishment.
-How long has she been such a favourite? and pray when am I to wish you
-joy?”
-
-“That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady’s
-imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love
-to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.”
-
-“Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter as
-absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed, and
-of course she will be always at Pemberley with you.”
-
-He listened to her with perfect indifference, while she chose to
-entertain herself in this manner; and as his composure convinced her
-that all was safe, her wit flowed along.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “A note for Miss Bennet”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Mr. Bennet’s property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two
-thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed,
-in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother’s
-fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply
-the deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, and
-had left her four thousand pounds.
-
-She had a sister married to a Mr. Philips, who had been a clerk to their
-father and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled in
-London in a respectable line of trade.
-
-The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most
-convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted
-thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt, and
-to a milliner’s shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family,
-Catherine and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions:
-their minds were more vacant than their sisters’, and when nothing
-better offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning
-hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and, however bare of
-news the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn
-some from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well supplied both
-with news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in
-the neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was
-the head-quarters.
-
-Their visits to Mrs. Philips were now productive of the most interesting
-intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of the
-officers’ names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret,
-and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Philips
-visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a source of felicity
-unknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr.
-Bingley’s large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their
-mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of
-an ensign.
-
-After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr.
-Bennet coolly observed,--
-
-“From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two
-of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but
-I am now convinced.”
-
-Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with perfect
-indifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter, and
-her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the
-next morning to London.
-
-“I am astonished, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that you should be so
-ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly
-of anybody’s children, it should not be of my own, however.”
-
-“If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it.”
-
-“Yes; but as it happens, they are all of them very clever.”
-
-“This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I
-had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must
-so far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly
-foolish.”
-
-“My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of
-their father and mother. When they get to our age, I dare say they will
-not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I
-liked a red coat myself very well--and, indeed, so I do still at my
-heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year,
-should want one of my girls, I shall not say nay to him; and I thought
-Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William’s in
-his regimentals.”
-
-“Mamma,” cried Lydia, “my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain
-Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson’s as they did when they first
-came; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke’s library.”
-
-Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a
-note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited
-for an answer. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was
-eagerly calling out, while her daughter read,--
-
-“Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well,
-Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.”
-
-“It is from Miss Bingley,” said Jane, and then read it aloud.
-
- /* NIND “My dear friend, */
-
- “If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and
- me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our
- lives; for a whole day’s _tête-à-tête_ between two women can never
- end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on the receipt of
- this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.
- Yours ever,
-
-“CAROLINE BINGLEY.”
-
-“With the officers!” cried Lydia: “I wonder my aunt did not tell us of
-_that_.”
-
-“Dining out,” said Mrs. Bennet; “that is very unlucky.”
-
-“Can I have the carriage?” said Jane.
-
-“No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to
-rain; and then you must stay all night.”
-
-“That would be a good scheme,” said Elizabeth, “if you were sure that
-they would not offer to send her home.”
-
-“Oh, but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley’s chaise to go to Meryton;
-and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.”
-
-“I had much rather go in the coach.”
-
-“But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are
-wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are not they?”
-
-[Illustration: Cheerful prognostics]
-
-“They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.”
-
-“But if you have got them to-day,” said Elizabeth, “my mother’s purpose
-will be answered.”
-
-She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses
-were engaged; Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her
-mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad
-day. Her hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before it
-rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was
-delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission;
-Jane certainly could not come back.
-
-“This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!” said Mrs. Bennet, more than
-once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next
-morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her
-contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield
-brought the following note for Elizabeth:--
-
- /* NIND “My dearest Lizzie, */
-
- “I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be
- imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will
- not hear of my returning home till I am better. They insist also on
- my seeing Mr. Jones--therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear
- of his having been to me--and, excepting a sore throat and a
- headache, there is not much the matter with me.
-
-“Yours, etc.”
-
-“Well, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note
-aloud, “if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness--if she
-should die--it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of
-Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.”
-
-“Oh, I am not at all afraid of her dying. People do not die of little
-trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays
-there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the
-carriage.”
-
-Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, determined to go to her, though the
-carriage was not to be had: and as she was no horsewoman, walking was
-her only alternative. She declared her resolution.
-
-“How can you be so silly,” cried her mother, “as to think of such a
-thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get
-there.”
-
-“I shall be very fit to see Jane--which is all I want.”
-
-“Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,” said her father, “to send for the
-horses?”
-
-“No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing,
-when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.”
-
-“I admire the activity of your benevolence,” observed Mary, “but every
-impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion,
-exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.”
-
-“We will go as far as Meryton with you,” said Catherine and Lydia.
-Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off
-together.
-
-“If we make haste,” said Lydia, as they walked along, “perhaps we may
-see something of Captain Carter, before he goes.”
-
-In Meryton they parted: the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one
-of the officers’ wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing
-field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing
-over puddles, with impatient activity, and finding herself at last
-within view of the house, with weary ancles, dirty stockings, and a face
-glowing with the warmth of exercise.
-
-She was shown into the breakfast parlour, where all but Jane were
-assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise.
-That she should have walked three miles so early in the day in such
-dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and
-Miss Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt
-for it. She was received, however, very politely by them; and in their
-brother’s manners there was something better than politeness--there was
-good-humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst
-nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the
-brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion and doubt as to
-the occasion’s justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was
-thinking only of his breakfast.
-
-Her inquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss
-Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not well
-enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her
-immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving
-alarm or inconvenience, from expressing in her note how much she longed
-for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal,
-however, to much conversation; and when Miss Bingley left them together,
-could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude for the
-extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended
-her.
-
-When breakfast was over, they were joined by the sisters; and Elizabeth
-began to like them herself, when she saw how much affection and
-solicitude they showed for Jane. The apothecary came; and having
-examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught a
-violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it;
-advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice
-was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head
-ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment, nor were
-the other ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had in fact
-nothing to do elsewhere.
-
-When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and very
-unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only
-wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern
-at parting with her that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer
-of the chaise into an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the
-present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was
-despatched to Longbourn, to acquaint the family with her stay, and bring
-back a supply of clothes.
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“The Apothecary came”
-]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“covering a screen”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-At five o’clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half-past six
-Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. 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.
-
-Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could
-regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his
-attentions to herself most pleasing; and they prevented her feeling
-herself so much an intruder as she believed she was considered by the
-others. She had very little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was
-engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for 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.
-
-When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley
-began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were
-pronounced to be very bad indeed,--a mixture of pride and impertinence:
-she had no conversation, no style, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst
-thought the same, and added,--
-
-“She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent
-walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really
-looked almost wild.”
-
-“She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very
-nonsensical to come at all! Why must _she_ be scampering about the
-country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowzy!”
-
-“Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep
-in mud, I am absolutely certain, and the gown which had been let down to
-hide it not doing its office.”
-
-“Your picture may be very exact, Louisa,” said Bingley; “but this was
-all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well
-when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite
-escaped my notice.”
-
-“_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, and Mrs. Hurst began again,--
-
-“I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet,--she is really a very sweet
-girl,--and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such
-a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no
-chance of it.”
-
-“I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in
-Meryton?”
-
-“Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.”
-
-“That is capital,” added her sister; and they both laughed heartily.
-
-“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.
-
-With a renewal of tenderness, however, they repaired to her room on
-leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till summoned to coffee.
-She was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not quit her at all, till
-late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her asleep, and
-when it appeared to her rather right than pleasant that she should go
-down stairs herself. 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.”
-
-“In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure,” said Bingley; “and
-I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well.”
-
-Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards a table
-where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her
-others; all that his library afforded.
-
-“And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own
-credit; but I am an idle fellow; and though I have not many, I have more
-than I ever looked into.”
-
-Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those
-in the room.
-
-“I am astonished,” said Miss Bingley, “that my father should have left
-so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at
-Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!”
-
-“It ought to be good,” he replied: “it has been the work of many
-generations.”
-
-“And then you have added so much to it yourself--you are always buying
-books.”
-
-“I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as
-these.”
-
-“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.”
-
-Elizabeth was so much caught by what passed, as to leave her very little
-attention for her book; and, soon laying it wholly aside, she drew near
-the card-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest
-sister, to observe the game.
-
-“Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?” said Miss Bingley: “will
-she be as tall as I am?”
-
-“I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height, or
-rather taller.”
-
-“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me
-so much. Such a countenance, such manners, and so extremely accomplished
-for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”
-
-“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience
-to be so very accomplished as they all are.”
-
-“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”
-
-“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and
-net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this; and I am
-sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without
-being informed that she was very accomplished.”
-
-“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has
-too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no
-otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen; but I am very
-far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I
-cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen in the whole range of my
-acquaintance that are really accomplished.”
-
-“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.
-
-“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your
-idea of an accomplished woman.”
-
-“Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it.”
-
-“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 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.”
-
-Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her
-implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who
-answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with
-bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all
-conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the
-room.
-
-“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.”
-
-Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to
-continue the subject.
-
-Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and
-that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones’s being sent for
-immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no country advice could
-be of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most
-eminent physicians. This she would not hear of; but she was not so
-unwilling to comply with their brother’s proposal; and it was settled
-that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if Miss Bennet
-were not decidedly better. 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.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-M^{rs} Bennet and her two youngest girls
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Elizabeth passed the chief of the night in her sister’s room, and in the
-morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the
-inquiries which she very early received from Mr. Bingley by a housemaid,
-and some time afterwards from the two elegant ladies who waited on his
-sisters. In spite of this amendment, however, she requested to have a
-note sent to Longbourn, desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her
-own judgment of her situation. The note was immediately despatched, and
-its contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her
-two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast.
-
-Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been
-very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her that her illness was
-not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her
-restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield. She
-would not listen, therefore, to her daughter’s proposal of being carried
-home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think
-it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, on Miss
-Bingley’s appearance and invitation, the mother and three daughters all
-attended her into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met them with hopes
-that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet worse than she expected.
-
-“Indeed I have, sir,” was her answer. “She is a great deal too ill to be
-moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass
-a little longer on your kindness.”
-
-“Removed!” cried Bingley. “It must not be thought of. My sister, I am
-sure, will not hear of her removal.”
-
-“You may depend upon it, madam,” said Miss Bingley, with cold civility,
-“that Miss Bennet shall receive every possible attention while she
-remains with us.”
-
-Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments.
-
-“I am sure,” she added, “if it was not for such good friends, I do not
-know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a
-vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is
-always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest
-temper I ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to
-_her_. You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect
-over that gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is
-equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I
-hope, though you have but a short lease.”
-
-“Whatever I do is done in a hurry,” replied he; “and therefore if I
-should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five
-minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.”
-
-“That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,” said Elizabeth.
-
-“You begin to comprehend me, do you?” cried he, turning towards her.
-
-“Oh yes--I understand you perfectly.”
-
-“I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen
-through, I am afraid, is pitiful.”
-
-“That is as it happens. It does not necessarily follow that a deep,
-intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.”
-
-“Lizzy,” cried her mother, “remember where you are, and do not run on in
-the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.”
-
-“I did not know before,” continued Bingley, immediately, “that you were
-a studier of character. It must be an amusing study.”
-
-“Yes; but intricate characters are the _most_ amusing. They have at
-least that advantage.”
-
-“The country,” said Darcy, “can in general supply but few subjects for
-such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and
-unvarying society.”
-
-“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be
-observed in them for ever.”
-
-“Yes, indeed,” cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a
-country neighbourhood. “I assure you there is quite as much of _that_
-going on in the country as in town.”
-
-Everybody was surprised; and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment,
-turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete
-victory over him, continued her triumph,--
-
-“I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for
-my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal
-pleasanter, is not it, Mr. Bingley?”
-
-“When I am in the country,” he replied, “I never wish to leave it; and
-when I am in town, it is pretty much the same. They have each their
-advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.”
-
-“Ay, that is because you have the right disposition. But that
-gentleman,” looking at Darcy, “seemed to think the country was nothing
-at all.”
-
-“Indeed, mamma, you are mistaken,” said Elizabeth, blushing for her
-mother. “You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there was not
-such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in town, which
-you must acknowledge to be true.”
-
-“Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with
-many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few
-neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families.”
-
-Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his
-countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her eye towards
-Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile. Elizabeth, for the sake of
-saying something that might turn her mother’s thoughts, now asked her if
-Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since _her_ coming away.
-
-“Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir
-William is, Mr. Bingley--is not he? so much the man of fashion! so
-genteel and so easy! He has always something to say to everybody. _That_
-is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very
-important and never open their mouths quite mistake the matter.”
-
-“Did Charlotte dine with you?”
-
-“No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince-pies. For
-my part, Mr. Bingley, _I_ always keep servants that can do their own
-work; _my_ daughters are brought up differently. But everybody is to
-judge for themselves, and the Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I
-assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that _I_ think
-Charlotte so _very_ plain; but then she is our particular friend.”
-
-“She seems a very pleasant young woman,” said Bingley.
-
-“Oh dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself
-has often said so, and envied me Jane’s beauty. I do not like to boast
-of my own child; but to be sure, Jane--one does not often see anybody
-better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own
-partiality. When she was only fifteen there was a gentleman at my
-brother Gardiner’s in town so much in love with her, that my
-sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away.
-But, however, he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he
-wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were.”
-
-“And so ended his affection,” said Elizabeth, impatiently. “There has
-been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first
-discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!”
-
-“I have been used to consider poetry as the _food_ of love,” said Darcy.
-
-“Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is
-strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I
-am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.”
-
-Darcy only smiled; and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth
-tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to
-speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs.
-Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to
-Jane, with an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was
-unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be
-civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part,
-indeed, without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and
-soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of
-her daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to
-each other during the whole visit; and the result of it was, that the
-youngest should tax Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming
-into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.
-
-Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion
-and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose
-affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high
-animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the
-attentions of the officers, to whom her uncle’s good dinners and her
-own easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was
-very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the
-ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be
-the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer
-to this sudden attack was delightful to her mother’s ear.
-
-“I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and, when
-your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of
-the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing while she is ill?”
-
-Lydia declared herself satisfied. “Oh yes--it would be much better to
-wait till Jane was well; and by that time, most likely, Captain Carter
-would be at Meryton again. And when you have given _your_ ball,” she
-added, “I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel
-Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.”
-
-Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned
-instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations’ behaviour to the
-remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the latter of whom, however,
-could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of _her_, in spite of
-all Miss Bingley’s witticisms on _fine eyes_.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst and Miss
-Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who
-continued, though slowly, to mend; and, in the evening, Elizabeth joined
-their party in the drawing-room. The loo table, however, did not appear.
-Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching
-the progress of his letter, and repeatedly calling off his attention by
-messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and
-Mrs. Hurst was observing their game.
-
-Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in
-attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual
-commendations of the lady either on his hand-writing, or on the evenness
-of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern
-with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was
-exactly in unison with her opinion of each.
-
-“How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!”
-
-He made no answer.
-
-“You write uncommonly fast.”
-
-“You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.”
-
-“How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a
-year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!”
-
-“It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours.”
-
-“Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.”
-
-“I have already told her so once, by your desire.”
-
-“I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend
-pens remarkably well.”
-
-“Thank you--but I always mend my own.”
-
-“How can you contrive to write so even?”
-
-He was silent.
-
-“Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp,
-and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful
-little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss
-Grantley’s.”
-
-“Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At
-present I have not room to do them justice.”
-
-“Oh, it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you
-always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?”
-
-“They are generally long; but whether always charming, it is not for me
-to determine.”
-
-“It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with
-ease cannot write ill.”
-
-“That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline,” cried her
-brother, “because he does _not_ write with ease. He studies too much
-for words of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?”
-
-“My style of writing is very different from yours.”
-
-“Oh,” cried Miss Bingley, “Charles writes in the most careless way
-imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest.”
-
-“My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them; by which
-means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents.”
-
-“Your humility, Mr. Bingley,” said Elizabeth, “must disarm reproof.”
-
-“Nothing is more deceitful,” said Darcy, “than the appearance of
-humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an
-indirect boast.”
-
-“And which of the two do you call _my_ little recent piece of modesty?”
-
-“The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in
-writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of
-thought and carelessness of execution, which, if not estimable, you
-think at least highly interesting. The power of doing anything with
-quickness is always much prized by the possessor, and often without any
-attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs.
-Bennet this morning, that if you ever resolved on quitting Netherfield
-you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of
-panegyric, of compliment to yourself; and yet what is there so very
-laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business
-undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or anyone else?”
-
-“Nay,” cried Bingley, “this is too much, to remember at night all the
-foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon my honour, I
-believed what I said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this
-moment. At least, therefore, I did not assume the character of needless
-precipitance merely to show off before the ladies.”
-
-“I daresay you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you
-would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as
-dependent on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were
-mounting your horse, a friend were to say, ‘Bingley, you had better stay
-till next week,’ you would probably do it--you would probably not
-go--and, at another word, might stay a month.”
-
-“You have only proved by this,” cried Elizabeth, “that Mr. Bingley did
-not do justice to his own disposition. You have shown him off now much
-more than he did himself.”
-
-“I am exceedingly gratified,” said Bingley, “by your converting what my
-friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am
-afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means
-intend; for he would certainly think the better of me if, under such a
-circumstance, I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I
-could.”
-
-“Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intention
-as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?”
-
-“Upon my word, I cannot exactly explain the matter--Darcy must speak for
-himself.”
-
-“You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to call mine,
-but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to
-stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet,
-that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and
-the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering
-one argument in favour of its propriety.”
-
-“To yield readily--easily--to the _persuasion_ of a friend is no merit
-with you.”
-
-“To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of
-either.”
-
-“You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of
-friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make
-one readily yield to a request, without waiting for arguments to reason
-one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have
-supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the
-circumstance occurs, before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour
-thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases, between friend and friend,
-where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no
-very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying
-with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?”
-
-“Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange
-with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to
-appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting
-between the parties?”
-
-“By all means,” cried Bingley; “let us hear all the particulars, not
-forgetting their comparative height and size, for that will have more
-weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure
-you that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with
-myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not
-know a more awful object than Darcy on particular occasions, and in
-particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening,
-when he has nothing to do.”
-
-Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was
-rather offended, and therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly
-resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her
-brother for talking such nonsense.
-
-“I see your design, Bingley,” said his friend. “You dislike an argument,
-and want to silence this.”
-
-“Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss
-Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very
-thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me.”
-
-“What you ask,” said Elizabeth, “is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr.
-Darcy had much better finish his letter.”
-
-Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter.
-
-When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth
-for the indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with alacrity to
-the pianoforte, and after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the
-way, which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she
-seated herself.
-
-Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister; and while they were thus employed,
-Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music-books
-that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Darcy’s eyes were fixed
-on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of
-admiration to so great a man, and yet that he should look at her because
-he disliked her was still more strange. She could only imagine, however,
-at last, that she drew his notice because there was something about her
-more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in
-any other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked
-him too little to care for his approbation.
-
-After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a
-lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near
-Elizabeth, said to her,--
-
-“Do you not feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an
-opportunity of dancing a reel?”
-
-She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some
-surprise at her silence.
-
-“Oh,” said she, “I heard you before; but I could not immediately
-determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say ‘Yes,’
-that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always
-delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of
-their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell
-you that I do not want to dance a reel at all; and now despise me if you
-dare.”
-
-“Indeed I do not dare.”
-
-Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his
-gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her
-manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody, and Darcy had
-never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really
-believed that, were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he
-should be in some danger.
-
-Miss Bingley saw, or suspected, enough to be jealous; and her great
-anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some
-assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth.
-
-She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by talking of
-their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance.
-
-“I hope,” said she, as they were walking together in the shrubbery the
-next day, “you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this
-desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue;
-and if you can compass it, to cure the younger girls of running after
-the officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to
-check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence,
-which your lady possesses.”
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “No, no; stay where you are”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-“Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?”
-
-“Oh yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Philips be placed
-in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the
-judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different
-lines. As for your Elizabeth’s picture, you must not attempt to have it
-taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?”
-
-“It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression; but their
-colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be
-copied.”
-
-At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst and
-Elizabeth herself.
-
-“I did not know that you intended to walk,” said Miss Bingley, in some
-confusion, lest they had been overheard.
-
-“You used us abominably ill,” answered Mrs. Hurst, “running away without
-telling us that you were coming out.”
-
-Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk
-by herself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt their rudeness,
-and immediately said,--
-
-“This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the
-avenue.”
-
-But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them,
-laughingly answered,--
-
-“No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to
-uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a
-fourth. Good-bye.”
-
-She then ran gaily off, rejoicing, as she rambled about, in the hope of
-being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already so much recovered
-as to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours that evening.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “Piling up the fire”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-When the ladies removed after dinner Elizabeth ran up to her sister, and
-seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into the drawing-room,
-where she was welcomed by her two friends with many professions of
-pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable as they were
-during the hour which passed before the gentlemen appeared. Their powers
-of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment
-with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their
-acquaintance with spirit.
-
-But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object;
-Miss Bingley’s eyes were instantly turned towards Darcy, and she had
-something to say to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed
-himself directly to Miss Bennet with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst
-also made her a slight bow, and said he was “very glad;” but diffuseness
-and warmth remained for Bingley’s salutation. He was full of joy and
-attention. The first half hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she
-should suffer from the change of room; and she removed, at his desire,
-to the other side of the fireplace, that she might be farther from the
-door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to anyone else.
-Elizabeth, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with great
-delight.
-
-When tea was over Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law of the
-card-table--but in vain. She had obtained private intelligence that Mr.
-Darcy did not wish for cards, and Mr. Hurst soon found even his open
-petition rejected. She assured him that no one intended to play, and the
-silence of the whole party on the subject seemed to justify her. Mr.
-Hurst had, therefore, nothing to do but to stretch himself on one of the
-sofas and go to sleep. Darcy took up a book. Miss Bingley did the same;
-and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her bracelets and
-rings, joined now and then in her brother’s conversation with Miss
-Bennet.
-
-Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr.
-Darcy’s progress through _his_ book, as in reading her own; and she was
-perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She
-could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her
-question and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be
-amused with her own book, which she had only chosen because it was the
-second volume of his, she gave a great yawn and said, “How pleasant it
-is to spend an evening in this way! I declare, after all, there is no
-enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a
-book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not
-an excellent library.”
-
-No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her book, and
-cast her eyes round the room in quest of some amusement; when, hearing
-her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly
-towards him and said,--
-
-“By the bye Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at
-Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult
-the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not
-some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a
-pleasure.”
-
-“If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he
-chooses, before it begins; but as for the ball, it is quite a settled
-thing, and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough I shall send
-round my cards.”
-
-“I should like balls infinitely better,” she replied, “if they were
-carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably
-tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much
-more rational if conversation instead of dancing made the order of the
-day.”
-
-“Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say; but it would not be
-near so much like a ball.”
-
-Miss Bingley made no answer, and soon afterwards got up and walked about
-the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but Darcy, at
-whom it was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious. In the
-desperation of her feelings, she resolved on one effort more; and,
-turning to Elizabeth, said,--
-
-“Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a
-turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so
-long in one attitude.”
-
-Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss Bingley
-succeeded no less in the real object of her civility: Mr. Darcy looked
-up. He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as
-Elizabeth herself could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He was
-directly invited to join their party, but he declined it, observing that
-he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down
-the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would
-interfere. What could he mean? She was dying to know what could be his
-meaning--and asked Elizabeth whether she could at all understand him.
-
-“Not at all,” was her answer; “but, depend upon it, he means to be
-severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask
-nothing about it.”
-
-Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in
-anything, and persevered, therefore, in requiring an explanation of his
-two motives.
-
-“I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,” said he, as soon
-as she allowed him to speak. “You either choose this method of passing
-the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret
-affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures
-appear to the greatest advantage in walking: if the first, I should be
-completely in your way; and if the second, I can admire you much better
-as I sit by the fire.”
-
-“Oh, shocking!” cried Miss Bingley. “I never heard anything so
-abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?”
-
-“Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,” said Elizabeth. “We
-can all plague and punish one another. Tease him--laugh at him. Intimate
-as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”
-
-“But upon my honour I do _not_. I do assure you that my intimacy has not
-yet taught me _that_. Tease calmness of temper and presence of mind! No,
-no; I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose
-ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr.
-Darcy may hug himself.”
-
-“Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!” cried Elizabeth. “That is an
-uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would
-be a great loss to _me_ to have many such acquaintance. I dearly love a
-laugh.”
-
-“Miss Bingley,” said he, “has given me credit for more than can be. The
-wisest and best of men,--nay, the wisest and best of their actions,--may
-be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a
-joke.”
-
-“Certainly,” replied Elizabeth, “there are such people, but I hope I am
-not one of _them_. I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies
-and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, _do_ divert me, I own, and I
-laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what
-you are without.”
-
-“Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of
-my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong
-understanding to ridicule.”
-
-“Such as vanity and pride.”
-
-“Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride--where there is a real
-superiority of mind--pride will be always under good regulation.”
-
-Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.
-
-“Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume,” said Miss Bingley;
-“and pray what is the result?”
-
-“I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it
-himself without disguise.”
-
-“No,” said Darcy, “I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough,
-but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch
-for. It is, I believe, too little yielding; certainly too little for the
-convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of
-others so soon as I ought, nor their offences against myself. My
-feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper
-would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost for
-ever.”
-
-“_That_ is a failing, indeed!” cried Elizabeth. “Implacable resentment
-_is_ a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I
-really cannot _laugh_ at it. You are safe from me.”
-
-“There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular
-evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”
-
-“And _your_ defect is a propensity to hate everybody.”
-
-“And yours,” he replied, with a smile, “is wilfully to misunderstand
-them.”
-
-“Do let us have a little music,” cried Miss Bingley, tired of a
-conversation in which she had no share. “Louisa, you will not mind my
-waking Mr. Hurst.”
-
-Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was
-opened; and Darcy, after a few moments’ recollection, was not sorry for
-it. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-In consequence of an agreement between the sisters, Elizabeth wrote the
-next morning to her mother, to beg that the carriage might be sent for
-them in the course of the day. But Mrs. Bennet, who had calculated on
-her daughters remaining at Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which
-would exactly finish Jane’s week, could not bring herself to receive
-them with pleasure before. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at
-least not to Elizabeth’s wishes, for she was impatient to get home. Mrs.
-Bennet sent them word that they could not possibly have the carriage
-before Tuesday; and in her postscript it was added, that if Mr. Bingley
-and his sister pressed them to stay longer, she could spare them very
-well. Against staying longer, however, Elizabeth was positively
-resolved--nor did she much expect it would be asked; and fearful, on the
-contrary, of being considered as intruding themselves needlessly long,
-she urged Jane to borrow Mr. Bingley’s carriage immediately, and at
-length it was settled that their original design of leaving Netherfield
-that morning should be mentioned, and the request made.
-
-The communication excited many professions of concern; and enough was
-said of wishing them to stay at least till the following day to work on
-Jane; and till the morrow their going was deferred. Miss Bingley was
-then sorry that she had proposed the delay; for her jealousy and dislike
-of one sister much exceeded her affection for the other.
-
-The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were to go so
-soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade Miss Bennet that it would not be
-safe for her--that she was not enough recovered; but Jane was firm where
-she felt herself to be right.
-
-To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence: Elizabeth had been at
-Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he liked; and Miss
-Bingley was uncivil to _her_ and more teasing than usual to himself. He
-wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration
-should _now_ escape him--nothing that could elevate her with the hope of
-influencing his felicity; sensible that, if such an idea had been
-suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material weight
-in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely spoke
-ten words to her through the whole of Saturday: and though they were at
-one time left by themselves for half an hour, he adhered most
-conscientiously to his book, and would not even look at her.
-
-On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable to almost
-all, took place. Miss Bingley’s civility to Elizabeth increased at last
-very rapidly, as well as her affection for Jane; and when they parted,
-after assuring the latter of the pleasure it would always give her to
-see her either at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most
-tenderly, she even shook hands with the former. Elizabeth took leave of
-the whole party in the liveliest spirits.
-
-They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother. Mrs. Bennet
-wondered at their coming, and thought them very wrong to give so much
-trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught cold again. But their
-father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really
-glad to see them; he had felt their importance in the family circle. The
-evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its
-animation, and almost all its sense, by the absence of Jane and
-Elizabeth.
-
-They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough bass and human
-nature; and had some new extracts to admire and some new observations of
-threadbare morality to listen to. Catherine and Lydia had information
-for them of a different sort. Much had been done, and much had been said
-in the regiment since the preceding Wednesday; several of the officers
-had dined lately with their uncle; a private had been flogged; and it
-had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-“I hope, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at
-breakfast the next morning, “that you have ordered a good dinner to-day,
-because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”
-
-“Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure,
-unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in; and I hope _my_ dinners
-are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.”
-
-“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman and a stranger.”
-
-Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled. “A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr.
-Bingley, I am sure. Why, Jane--you never dropped a word of this--you sly
-thing! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley.
-But--good Lord! how unlucky! there is not a bit of fish to be got
-to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must speak to Hill this
-moment.”
-
-“It is _not_ Mr. Bingley,” said her husband; “it is a person whom I
-never saw in the whole course of my life.”
-
-This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of being
-eagerly questioned by his wife and five daughters at once.
-
-After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus
-explained:--“About a month ago I received this letter, and about a
-fortnight ago I answered it; for I thought it a case of some delicacy,
-and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who,
-when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he
-pleases.”
-
-“Oh, my dear,” cried his wife, “I cannot bear to hear that mentioned.
-Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing
-in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own
-children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago
-to do something or other about it.”
-
-Jane and Elizabeth attempted to explain to her the nature of an entail.
-They had often attempted it before: but it was a subject on which Mrs.
-Bennet was beyond the reach of reason; and she continued to rail
-bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of
-five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.
-
-“It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,” said Mr. Bennet; “and
-nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn.
-But if you will listen to his letter, you may, perhaps, be a little
-softened by his manner of expressing himself.”
-
-“No, that I am sure I shall not: and I think it was very impertinent of
-him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false
-friends. Why could not he keep on quarrelling with you, as his father
-did before him?”
-
-“Why, indeed, he does seem to have had some filial scruples on that
-head, as you will hear.”
-
- /* RIGHT “Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, _15th October_. */
-
-“Dear Sir,
-
- “The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured
- father always gave me much uneasiness; and, since I have had the
- misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the
- breach: but, for some time, I was kept back by my own doubts,
- fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be
- on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be
- at variance.”--‘There, Mrs. Bennet.’--“My mind, however, is now
- made up on the subject; for, having received ordination at Easter,
- I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of
- the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis
- de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the
- valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest
- endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her
- Ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies
- which are instituted by the Church of England. As a clergyman,
- moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing
- of peace in all families within the reach of my influence; and on
- these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures of
- good-will are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my
- being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly
- overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered
- olive branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the
- means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to
- apologize for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make
- them every possible amends; but of this hereafter. If you should
- have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself
- the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday,
- November 18th, by four o’clock, and shall probably trespass on your
- hospitality till the Saturday se’nnight following, which I can do
- without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is far from objecting
- to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other
- clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day. I remain, dear sir,
- with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your
- well-wisher and friend,
-
-“WILLIAM COLLINS.”
-
-“At four o’clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman,”
-said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. “He seems to be a most
-conscientious and polite young man, upon my word; and, I doubt not, will
-prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be so
-indulgent as to let him come to us again.”
-
-“There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however; and, if
-he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to
-discourage him.”
-
-“Though it is difficult,” said Jane, “to guess in what way he can mean
-to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to his
-credit.”
-
-Elizabeth was chiefly struck with his extraordinary deference for Lady
-Catherine, and his kind intention of christening, marrying, and burying
-his parishioners whenever it were required.
-
-“He must be an oddity, I think,” said she. “I cannot make him out. There
-is something very pompous in his style. And what can he mean by
-apologizing for being next in the entail? We cannot suppose he would
-help it, if he could. Can he be a sensible man, sir?”
-
-“No, my dear; I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the
-reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his
-letter which promises well. I am impatient to see him.”
-
-“In point of composition,” said Mary, “his letter does not seem
-defective. The idea of the olive branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I
-think it is well expressed.”
-
-To Catherine and Lydia neither the letter nor its writer were in any
-degree interesting. It was next to impossible that their cousin should
-come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since they had
-received pleasure from the society of a man in any other colour. As for
-their mother, Mr. Collins’s letter had done away much of her ill-will,
-and she was preparing to see him with a degree of composure which
-astonished her husband and daughters.
-
-Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great
-politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said little; but the
-ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins seemed neither in need
-of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall,
-heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and
-stately, and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated
-before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of
-daughters, said he had heard much of their beauty, but that, in this
-instance, fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that he did not
-doubt her seeing them all in due time well disposed of in marriage. This
-gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers; but Mrs.
-Bennet, who quarrelled with no compliments, answered most readily,--
-
-“You are very kind, sir, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may
-prove so; for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so
-oddly.”
-
-“You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.”
-
-“Ah, sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you
-must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with _you_, for such things,
-I know, are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates
-will go when once they come to be entailed.”
-
-“I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and
-could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing
-forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come
-prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more, but, perhaps,
-when we are better acquainted----”
-
-He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; and the girls smiled on each
-other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Collins’s admiration. The
-hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture, were examined and praised;
-and his commendation of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet’s
-heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his
-own future property. The dinner, too, in its turn, was highly admired;
-and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellence of its
-cookery was owing. But here he was set right by Mrs. Bennet, who assured
-him, with some asperity, that they were very well able to keep a good
-cook, and that her daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen. He begged
-pardon for having displeased her. In a softened tone she declared
-herself not at all offended; but he continued to apologize for about a
-quarter of an hour.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-During dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all; but when the servants
-were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some conversation with his
-guest, and therefore started a subject in which he expected him to
-shine, by observing that he seemed very fortunate in his patroness. Lady
-Catherine de Bourgh’s attention to his wishes, and consideration for his
-comfort, appeared very remarkable. Mr. Bennet could not have chosen
-better. Mr. Collins was eloquent in her praise. The subject elevated him
-to more than usual solemnity of manner; and with a most important aspect
-he protested that he had never in his life witnessed such behaviour in a
-person of rank--such affability and condescension, as he had himself
-experienced from Lady Catherine. She had been graciously pleased to
-approve of both the discourses which he had already had the honour of
-preaching before her. She had also asked him twice to dine at Rosings,
-and had sent for him only the Saturday before, to make up her pool of
-quadrille in the evening. Lady Catherine was reckoned proud by many
-people, he knew, but _he_ had never seen anything but affability in her.
-She had always spoken to him as she would to any other gentleman; she
-made not the smallest objection to his joining in the society of the
-neighbourhood, nor to his leaving his parish occasionally for a week or
-two to visit his relations. She had even condescended to advise him to
-marry as soon as he could, provided he chose with discretion; and had
-once paid him a visit in his humble parsonage, where she had perfectly
-approved all the alterations he had been making, and had even vouchsafed
-to suggest some herself,--some shelves in the closets upstairs.
-
-“That is all very proper and civil, I am sure,” said Mrs. Bennet, “and I
-dare say she is a very agreeable woman. It is a pity that great ladies
-in general are not more like her. Does she live near you, sir?”
-
-“The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only by a lane
-from Rosings Park, her Ladyship’s residence.”
-
-“I think you said she was a widow, sir? has she any family?”
-
-“She has one only daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very
-extensive property.”
-
-“Ah,” cried Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, “then she is better off than
-many girls. And what sort of young lady is she? Is she handsome?”
-
-“She is a most charming young lady, indeed. Lady Catherine herself says
-that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the
-handsomest of her sex; because there is that in her features which marks
-the young woman of distinguished birth. She is unfortunately of a sickly
-constitution, which has prevented her making that progress in many
-accomplishments which she could not otherwise have failed of, as I am
-informed by the lady who superintended her education, and who still
-resides with them. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends
-to drive by my humble abode in her little phaeton and ponies.”
-
-“Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies at
-court.”
-
-“Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town;
-and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine myself one day, has deprived
-the British Court of its brightest ornament. Her Ladyship seemed pleased
-with the idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on every occasion to
-offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to
-ladies. I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that her
-charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess; and that the most
-elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, would be adorned by
-her. These are the kind of little things which please her Ladyship, and
-it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to
-pay.”
-
-“You judge very properly,” said Mr. Bennet; “and it is happy for you
-that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask
-whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the
-moment, or are the result of previous study?”
-
-“They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time; and though I
-sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant
-compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to
-give them as unstudied an air as possible.”
-
-Mr. Bennet’s expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd
-as he had hoped; and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment,
-maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance,
-and, except in an occasional glance at Elizabeth, requiring no partner
-in his pleasure.
-
-By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, and Mr. Bennet was glad
-to take his guest into the drawing-room again, and when tea was over,
-glad to invite him
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“Protested
-that he never read novels” H.T Feb 94
-]
-
-to read aloud to the ladies. Mr. Collins readily assented, and a book
-was produced; but on beholding it (for everything announced it to be
-from a circulating library) he started back, and, begging pardon,
-protested that he never read novels. Kitty stared at him, and Lydia
-exclaimed. Other books were produced, and after some deliberation he
-chose “Fordyce’s Sermons.” Lydia gaped as he opened the volume; and
-before he had, with very monotonous solemnity, read three pages, she
-interrupted him with,--
-
-“Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Philips talks of turning away
-Richard? and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My aunt told me
-so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton to-morrow to hear more
-about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town.”
-
-Lydia was bid by her two eldest sisters to hold her tongue; but Mr.
-Collins, much offended, laid aside his book, and said,--
-
-“I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by books
-of a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. It amazes
-me, I confess; for certainly there can be nothing so advantageous to
-them as instruction. But I will no longer importune my young cousin.”
-
-Then, turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself as his antagonist at
-backgammon. Mr. Bennet accepted the challenge, observing that he acted
-very wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling amusements. Mrs.
-Bennet and her daughters apologized most civilly for Lydia’s
-interruption, and promised that it should not occur again, if he would
-resume his book; but Mr. Collins, after assuring them that he bore his
-young cousin no ill-will, and should never resent her behaviour as any
-affront, seated himself at another table with Mr. Bennet, and prepared
-for backgammon.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XV.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had
-been but little assisted by education or society; the greatest part of
-his life having been spent under the guidance of an illiterate and
-miserly father; and though he belonged to one of the universities, he
-had merely kept the necessary terms without forming at it any useful
-acquaintance. The subjection in which his father had brought him up had
-given him originally great humility of manner; but it was now a good
-deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head, living in
-retirement, and the consequential feelings of early and unexpected
-prosperity. A fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Catherine de
-Bourgh when the living of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which he
-felt for her high rank, and his veneration for her as his patroness,
-mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a
-clergyman, and his right as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of
-pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility.
-
-Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to
-marry; and in seeking a reconciliation with the Longbourn family he had
-a wife in view, as he meant to choose one of the daughters, if he found
-them as handsome and amiable as they were represented by common report.
-This was his plan of amends--of atonement--for inheriting their father’s
-estate; and he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility and
-suitableness, and excessively generous and disinterested on his own
-part.
-
-His plan did not vary on seeing them. Miss Bennet’s lovely face
-confirmed his views, and established all his strictest notions of what
-was due to seniority; and for the first evening _she_ was his settled
-choice. The next morning, however, made an alteration; for in a quarter
-of an hour’s _tête-à-tête_ with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast, a
-conversation beginning with his parsonage-house, and leading naturally
-to the avowal of his hopes, that a mistress for it might be found at
-Longbourn, produced from her, amid very complaisant smiles and general
-encouragement, a caution against the very Jane he had fixed on. “As to
-her _younger_ daughters, she could not take upon her to say--she could
-not positively answer--but she did not _know_ of any prepossession;--her
-_eldest_ daughter she must just mention--she felt it incumbent on her to
-hint, was likely to be very soon engaged.”
-
-Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth--and it was soon
-done--done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. Elizabeth, equally
-next to Jane in birth and beauty, succeeded her of course.
-
-Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon have
-two daughters married; and the man whom she could not bear to speak of
-the day before, was now high in her good graces.
-
-Lydia’s intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten: every sister
-except Mary agreed to go with her; and Mr. Collins was to attend them,
-at the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most anxious to get rid of him,
-and have his library to himself; for thither Mr. Collins had followed
-him after breakfast, and there he would continue, nominally engaged with
-one of the largest folios in the collection, but really talking to Mr.
-Bennet, with little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such
-doings discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his library he had been
-always sure of leisure and tranquillity; and though prepared, as he told
-Elizabeth, to meet with folly and conceit in every other room in the
-house, he was used to be free from them there: his civility, therefore,
-was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their
-walk; and Mr. Collins, being in fact much better fitted for a walker
-than a reader, was extremely well pleased to close his large book, and
-go.
-
-In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his
-cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton. The attention of
-the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by _him_. Their eyes
-were immediately wandering up the street in quest of the officers, and
-nothing less than a very smart bonnet, indeed, or a really new muslin in
-a shop window, could recall them.
-
-But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom
-they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking
-with an officer on the other side of the way. The officer was the very
-Mr. Denny concerning whose return from London Lydia came to inquire, and
-he bowed as they passed. All were struck with the stranger’s air, all
-wondered who he could be; and Kitty and Lydia, determined if possible
-to find out, led the way across the street, under pretence of wanting
-something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the
-pavement, when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same
-spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and entreated permission to
-introduce his friend, Mr. Wickham, who had returned with him the day
-before from town, and, he was happy to say, had accepted a commission in
-their corps. This was exactly as it should be; for the young man wanted
-only regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was
-greatly in his favour: he had all the best parts of beauty, a fine
-countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction
-was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation--a
-readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the
-whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably,
-when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were
-seen riding down the street. On distinguishing the ladies of the group
-the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual
-civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the
-principal object. He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn on
-purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with a bow, and
-was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they
-were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger; and Elizabeth
-happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other,
-was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour,
-one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments,
-touched his hat--a salutation which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return.
-What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was
-impossible not to long to know.
-
-In another minute Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have noticed what
-passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.
-
-Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door of
-Mr. Philips’s house, and then made their bows, in spite of Miss Lydia’s
-pressing entreaties that they would come in, and even in spite of Mrs.
-Philips’s throwing up the parlour window, and loudly seconding the
-invitation.
-
-Mrs. Philips was always glad to see her nieces; and the two eldest, from
-their recent absence, were particularly welcome; and she was eagerly
-expressing her surprise at their sudden return home, which, as their own
-carriage had not fetched them, she should have known nothing about, if
-she had not happened to see Mr. Jones’s shopboy in the street, who had
-told her that they were not to send any more draughts to Netherfield,
-because the Miss Bennets were come away, when her civility was claimed
-towards Mr. Collins by Jane’s introduction of him. She received him with
-her very best politeness, which he returned with as much more,
-apologizing for his intrusion, without any previous acquaintance with
-her, which he could not help flattering himself, however, might be
-justified by his relationship to the young ladies who introduced him to
-her notice. Mrs. Philips was quite awed by such an excess of good
-breeding; but her contemplation of one stranger was soon put an end to
-by exclamations and inquiries about the other, of whom, however, she
-could only tell her nieces what they already knew, that Mr. Denny had
-brought him from London, and that he was to have a lieutenant’s
-commission in the ----shire. She had been watching him the last hour,
-she said, as he walked up and down the street,--and had Mr. Wickham
-appeared, Kitty and Lydia would certainly have continued the occupation;
-but unluckily no one passed the windows now except a few of the
-officers, who, in comparison with the stranger, were become “stupid,
-disagreeable fellows.” Some of them were to dine with the Philipses the
-next day, and their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr.
-Wickham, and give him an invitation also, if the family from Longbourn
-would come in the evening. This was agreed to; and Mrs. Philips
-protested that they would have a nice comfortable noisy game of lottery
-tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards. The prospect of such
-delights was very cheering, and they parted in mutual good spirits. Mr.
-Collins repeated his apologies in quitting the room, and was assured,
-with unwearying civility, that they were perfectly needless.
-
-As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what she had seen pass
-between the two gentlemen; but though Jane would have defended either or
-both, had they appeared to be wrong, she could no more explain such
-behaviour than her sister.
-
-Mr. Collins on his return highly gratified Mrs. Bennet by admiring Mrs.
-Philips’s manners and politeness. He protested that, except Lady
-Catherine and her daughter, he had never seen a more elegant woman; for
-she had not only received him with the utmost civility, but had even
-pointedly included him in her invitation for the next evening, although
-utterly unknown to her before. Something, he supposed, might be
-attributed to his connection with them, but yet he had never met with so
-much attention in the whole course of his life.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVI.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-As no objection was made to the young people’s engagement with their
-aunt, and all Mr. Collins’s scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for
-a single evening during his visit were most steadily resisted, the coach
-conveyed him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton; and the
-girls had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawing-room,
-that Mr. Wickham had accepted their uncle’s invitation, and was then in
-the house.
-
-When this information was given, and they had all taken their seats, Mr.
-Collins was at leisure to look around him and admire, and he was so much
-struck with the size and furniture of the apartment, that he declared he
-might almost have supposed himself in the small summer breakfast parlour
-at Rosings; a comparison that did not at first convey much
-gratification; but when Mrs. Philips understood from him what Rosings
-was, and who was its proprietor, when she had listened to the
-description of only one of Lady Catherine’s drawing-rooms, and found
-that the chimney-piece alone had cost eight hundred pounds, she felt all
-the force of the compliment, and would hardly have resented a comparison
-with the housekeeper’s room.
-
-In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion,
-with occasional digressions in praise of his own humble abode, and the
-improvements it was receiving, he was happily employed until the
-gentlemen joined them; and he found in Mrs. Philips a very attentive
-listener, whose opinion of his consequence increased with what she
-heard, and who was resolving to retail it all among her neighbours as
-soon as she could. To the girls, who could not listen to their cousin,
-and who had nothing to do but to wish for an instrument, and examine
-their own indifferent imitations of china on the mantel-piece, the
-interval of waiting appeared very long. It was over at last, however.
-The gentlemen did approach: and when Mr. Wickham walked into the room,
-Elizabeth felt that she had neither been seeing him before, nor thinking
-of him since, with the smallest degree of unreasonable admiration. The
-officers of the ----shire were in general a very creditable,
-gentlemanlike set and the best of them were of the present party; but
-Mr, Wickham was as far beyond them all in person, countenance, air, and
-walk, as _they_ were superior to the broad-faced stuffy uncle Philips,
-breathing port wine, who followed them into the room.
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“The officers of the ----shire”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was
-turned, and Elizabeth was the happy woman by whom he finally seated
-himself; and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into
-conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, and on the
-probability of a rainy season, made her feel that the commonest,
-dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the
-skill of the speaker.
-
-With such rivals for the notice of the fair as Mr. Wickham and the
-officers, Mr. Collins seemed to sink into insignificance; to the young
-ladies he certainly was nothing; but he had still at intervals a kind
-listener in Mrs. Philips, and was, by her watchfulness, most abundantly
-supplied with coffee and muffin.
-
-When the card tables were placed, he had an opportunity of obliging her,
-in return, by sitting down to whist.
-
-“I know little of the game at present,” said he, “but I shall be glad to
-improve myself; for in my situation of life----” Mrs. Philips was very
-thankful for his compliance, but could not wait for his reason.
-
-Mr. Wickham did not play at whist, and with ready delight was he
-received at the other table between Elizabeth and Lydia. At first there
-seemed danger of Lydia’s engrossing him entirely, for she was a most
-determined talker; but being likewise extremely fond of lottery tickets,
-she soon grew too much interested in the game, too eager in making bets
-and exclaiming after prizes, to have attention for anyone in particular.
-Allowing for the common demands of the game, Mr. Wickham was therefore
-at leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him,
-though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told,
-the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not even
-mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly
-relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself. He inquired how far
-Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in
-a hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there.
-
-“About a month,” said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the subject
-drop, added, “he is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I
-understand.”
-
-“Yes,” replied Wickham; “his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten
-thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of
-giving you certain information on that head than myself--for I have been
-connected with his family, in a particular manner, from my infancy.”
-
-Elizabeth could not but look surprised.
-
-“You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after
-seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting
-yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?”
-
-“As much as I ever wish to be,” cried Elizabeth, warmly. “I have spent
-four days in the same house with him, and I think him very
-disagreeable.”
-
-“I have no right to give _my_ opinion,” said Wickham, “as to his being
-agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him
-too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for _me_ to
-be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general
-astonish--and, perhaps, you would not express it quite so strongly
-anywhere else. Here you are in your own family.”
-
-“Upon my word I say no more _here_ than I might say in any house in the
-neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in
-Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride. You will not find
-him more favourably spoken of by anyone.”
-
-“I cannot pretend to be sorry,” said Wickham, after a short
-interruption, “that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond
-their deserts; but with _him_ I believe it does not often happen. The
-world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his
-high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen.”
-
-“I should take him, even on _my_ slight acquaintance, to be an
-ill-tempered man.”
-
-Wickham only shook his head.
-
-“I wonder,” said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, “whether he is
-likely to be in this country much longer.”
-
-“I do not at all know; but I _heard_ nothing of his going away when I
-was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the ----shire will
-not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.”
-
-“Oh no--it is not for _me_ to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If _he_
-wishes to avoid seeing _me_ he must go. We are not on friendly terms,
-and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for
-avoiding _him_ but what I might proclaim to all the world--a sense of
-very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is.
-His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men
-that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be
-in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a
-thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been
-scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and
-everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the
-memory of his father.”
-
-Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with
-all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry.
-
-Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the
-neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he
-had yet seen, and speaking of the latter, especially, with gentle but
-very intelligible gallantry.
-
-“It was the prospect of constant society, and good society,” he added,
-“which was my chief inducement to enter the ----shire. I know it to be a
-most respectable, agreeable corps; and my friend Denny tempted me
-further by his account of their present quarters, and the very great
-attentions and excellent acquaintance Meryton had procured them.
-Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and
-my spirits will not bear solitude. I _must_ have employment and society.
-A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have
-now made it eligible. The church _ought_ to have been my profession--I
-was brought up for the church; and I should at this time have been in
-possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we
-were speaking of just now.”
-
-“Indeed!”
-
-“Yes--the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best
-living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me.
-I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply,
-and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given
-elsewhere.”
-
-“Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth; “but how could _that_ be? How could his
-will be disregarded? Why did not you seek legal redress?”
-
-“There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to
-give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the
-intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it--or to treat it as a merely
-conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim
-to it by extravagance, imprudence, in short, anything or nothing.
-Certain it is that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I
-was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no
-less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done
-anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm unguarded temper, and I
-may perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion _of_ him, and _to_ him, too
-freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very
-different sort of men, and that he hates me.”
-
-“This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”
-
-“Some time or other he _will_ be--but it shall not be by _me_. Till I
-can forget his father, I can never defy or expose _him_.”
-
-Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings, and thought him handsomer than
-ever as he expressed them.
-
-“But what,” said she, after a pause, “can have been his motive? what can
-have induced him to behave so cruelly?”
-
-“A thorough, determined dislike of me--a dislike which I cannot but
-attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Darcy liked me
-less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father’s uncommon
-attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had
-not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood--the sort
-of preference which was often given me.”
-
-“I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this--though I have never liked
-him, I had not thought so very ill of him--I had supposed him to be
-despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of
-descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as
-this!”
-
-After a few minutes’ reflection, however, she continued, “I _do_
-remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of the implacability of
-his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper. His disposition
-must be dreadful.”
-
-“I will not trust myself on the subject,” replied Wickham; “_I_ can
-hardly be just to him.”
-
-Elizabeth was again deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed, “To
-treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite of his
-father!” She could have added, “A young man, too, like _you_, whose very
-countenance may vouch for your being amiable.” But she contented herself
-with--“And one, too, who had probably been his own companion from
-childhood, connected together, as I think you said, in the closest
-manner.”
-
-“We were born in the same parish, within the same park; the greatest
-part of our youth was passed together: inmates of the same house,
-sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. _My_
-father began life in the profession which your uncle, Mr. Philips,
-appears to do so much credit to; but he gave up everything to be of use
-to the late Mr. Darcy, and devoted all his time to the care of the
-Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most
-intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Darcy often acknowledged himself to
-be under the greatest obligations to my father’s active superintendence;
-and when, immediately before my father’s death, Mr. Darcy gave him a
-voluntary promise of providing for me, I am convinced that he felt it
-to be as much a debt of gratitude to _him_ as of affection to myself.”
-
-“How strange!” cried Elizabeth. “How abominable! I wonder that the very
-pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you. If from no better
-motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest,--for
-dishonesty I must call it.”
-
-“It _is_ wonderful,” replied Wickham; “for almost all his actions may be
-traced to pride; and pride has often been his best friend. It has
-connected him nearer with virtue than any other feeling. But we are none
-of us consistent; and in his behaviour to me there were stronger
-impulses even than pride.”
-
-“Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?”
-
-“Yes; it has often led him to be liberal and generous; to give his money
-freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the
-poor. Family pride, and _filial_ pride, for he is very proud of what his
-father was, have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to
-degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the
-Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also _brotherly_ pride,
-which, with _some_ brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and
-careful guardian of his sister; and you will hear him generally cried up
-as the most attentive and best of brothers.”
-
-“What sort of a girl is Miss Darcy?”
-
-He shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to
-speak ill of a Darcy; but she is too much like her brother,--very, very
-proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond
-of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is
-nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen,
-and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father’s death her
-home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her
-education.”
-
-After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth could not
-help reverting once more to the first, and saying,--
-
-“I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley. How can Mr. Bingley,
-who seems good-humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable,
-be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you
-know Mr. Bingley?”
-
-“Not at all.”
-
-“He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr.
-Darcy is.”
-
-“Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not
-want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth
-his while. Among those who are at all his equals in consequence, he is a
-very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride
-never deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just,
-sincere, rational, honourable, and, perhaps, agreeable,--allowing
-something for fortune and figure.”
-
-The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the players gathered round
-the other table, and Mr. Collins took his station between his cousin
-Elizabeth and Mrs. Philips. The usual inquiries as to his success were
-made by the latter. It had not been very great; he had lost every point;
-but when Mrs. Philips began to express her concern thereupon, he assured
-her, with much earnest gravity, that it was not of the least importance;
-that he considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged she would not
-make herself uneasy.
-
-“I know very well, madam,” said he, “that when persons sit down to a
-card table they must take their chance of these things,--and happily I
-am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There
-are, undoubtedly, many who could not say the same; but, thanks to Lady
-Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding
-little matters.”
-
-Mr. Wickham’s attention was caught; and after observing Mr. Collins for
-a few moments, he asked Elizabeth in a low voice whether her relations
-were very intimately acquainted with the family of De Bourgh.
-
-“Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” she replied, “has very lately given him a
-living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her
-notice, but he certainly has not known her long.”
-
-“You know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy
-were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy.”
-
-“No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine’s
-connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before
-yesterday.”
-
-“Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and it is
-believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.”
-
-This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor Miss
-Bingley. Vain indeed must be all her attentions, vain and useless her
-affection for his sister and her praise of himself, if he were already
-self-destined to another.
-
-“Mr. Collins,” said she, “speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her
-daughter; but, from some particulars that he has related of her
-Ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him; and that, in spite of
-her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman.”
-
-“I believe her to be both in a great degree,” replied Wickham; “I have
-not seen her for many years; but I very well remember that I never liked
-her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She has the
-reputation of being remarkably sensible and clever; but I rather believe
-she derives part of her abilities from her rank and fortune, part from
-her authoritative manner, and the rest from the pride of her nephew, who
-chooses that everyone connected with him should have an understanding of
-the first class.”
-
-Elizabeth allowed that he had given a very rational account of it, and
-they continued talking together with mutual satisfaction till supper put
-an end to cards, and gave the rest of the ladies their share of Mr.
-Wickham’s attentions. There could be no conversation in the noise of
-Mrs. Philips’s supper party, but his manners recommended him to
-everybody. Whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done
-gracefully. Elizabeth went away with her head full of him. She could
-think of nothing but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all
-the way home; but there was not time for her even to mention his name as
-they went, for neither Lydia nor Mr. Collins were once silent. Lydia
-talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had lost and the
-fish she had won; and Mr. Collins, in describing the civility of Mr. and
-Mrs. Philips, protesting that he did not in the least regard his losses
-at whist, enumerating all the dishes at supper, and repeatedly fearing
-that he crowded his cousins, had more to say than he could well manage
-before the carriage stopped at Longbourn House.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “delighted to see their dear friend again”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Elizabeth related to Jane, the next day, what had passed between Mr.
-Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern: she
-knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr.
-Bingley’s regard; and yet it was not in her nature to question the
-veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. The
-possibility of his having really endured such unkindness was enough to
-interest all her tender feelings; and nothing therefore remained to be
-done but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each, and
-throw into the account of accident or mistake whatever could not be
-otherwise explained.
-
-“They have both,” said she, “been deceived, I dare say, in some way or
-other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps
-misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to
-conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them,
-without actual blame on either side.”
-
-“Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, what have you got to say in
-behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the
-business? Do clear _them_, too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of
-somebody.”
-
-“Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my
-opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light
-it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father’s favourite in such a
-manner,--one whom his father had promised to provide for. It is
-impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his
-character, could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so
-excessively deceived in him? Oh no.”
-
-“I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley’s being imposed on than that
-Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last
-night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not
-so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks.”
-
-“It is difficult, indeed--it is distressing. One does not know what to
-think.”
-
-“I beg your pardon;--one knows exactly what to think.”
-
-But Jane could think with certainty on only one point,--that Mr.
-Bingley, if he _had been_ imposed on, would have much to suffer when
-the affair became public.
-
-The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery, where this
-conversation passed, by the arrival of some of the very persons of whom
-they had been speaking; Mr. Bingley and his sisters came to give their
-personal invitation for the long expected ball at Netherfield, which was
-fixed for the following Tuesday. The two ladies were delighted to see
-their dear friend again, called it an age since they had met, and
-repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since their
-separation. To the rest of the family they paid little attention;
-avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying not much to Elizabeth,
-and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone again, rising from
-their seats with an activity which took their brother by surprise, and
-hurrying off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet’s civilities.
-
-The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every
-female of the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as given in
-compliment to her eldest daughter, and was particularly flattered by
-receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself, instead of a
-ceremonious card. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the
-society of her two friends, and the attentions of their brother; and
-Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing a great deal with Mr.
-Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Mr. Darcy’s look
-and behaviour. The happiness anticipated by Catherine and Lydia depended
-less on any single event, or any particular person; for though they
-each, like Elizabeth, meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Wickham,
-he was by no means the only partner who could satisfy them, and a ball
-was, at any rate, a ball. And even Mary could assure her family that she
-had no disinclination for it.
-
-“While I can have my mornings to myself,” said she, “it is enough. I
-think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements.
-Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who
-consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for
-everybody.”
-
-Elizabeth’s spirits were so high on the occasion, that though she did
-not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking
-him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley’s invitation, and if he
-did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening’s
-amusement; and she was rather surprised to find that he entertained no
-scruple whatever on that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke,
-either from the Archbishop or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to
-dance.
-
-“I am by no means of opinion, I assure you,” said he, “that a ball of
-this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can
-have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing
-myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair
-cousins in the course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of
-soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially; a
-preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right
-cause, and not to any disrespect for her.”
-
-Elizabeth felt herself completely taken in. She had fully proposed being
-engaged by Wickham for those very dances; and to have Mr. Collins
-instead!--her liveliness had been never worse timed. There was no help
-for it, however. Mr. Wickham’s happiness and her own was perforce
-delayed a little longer, and Mr. Collins’s proposal accepted with as
-good a grace as she could. She was not the better pleased with his
-gallantry, from the idea it suggested of something more. It now first
-struck her, that _she_ was selected from among her sisters as worthy of
-being the mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form a
-quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more eligible visitors.
-The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed his increasing
-civilities towards herself, and heard his frequent attempt at a
-compliment on her wit and vivacity; and though more astonished than
-gratified herself by this effect of her charms, it was not long before
-her mother gave her to understand that the probability of their marriage
-was exceedingly agreeable to _her_. Elizabeth, however, did not choose
-to take the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the
-consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins might never make the offer, and,
-till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him.
-
-If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for and talk of, the
-younger Miss Bennets would have been in a pitiable state at this time;
-for, from the day of the invitation to the day of the ball, there was
-such a succession of rain as prevented their walking to Meryton once. No
-aunt, no officers, no news could be sought after; the very shoe-roses
-for Netherfield were got by proxy. Even Elizabeth might have found some
-trial of her patience in weather which totally suspended the improvement
-of her acquaintance with Mr. Wickham; and nothing less than a dance on
-Tuesday could have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday
-endurable to Kitty and Lydia.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVIII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield, and looked in
-vain for Mr. Wickham among the cluster of red coats there assembled, a
-doubt of his being present had never occurred to her. The certainty of
-meeting him had not been checked by any of those recollections that
-might not unreasonably have alarmed her. She had dressed with more than
-usual care, and prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all
-that remained unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it was not more than
-might be won in the course of the evening. But in an instant arose the
-dreadful suspicion of his being purposely omitted, for Mr. Darcy’s
-pleasure, in the Bingleys’ invitation to the officers; and though this
-was not exactly the case, the absolute fact of his absence was
-pronounced by his friend Mr. Denny, to whom Lydia eagerly applied, and
-who told them that Wickham had been obliged to go to town on business
-the day before, and was not yet returned; adding, with a significant
-smile,--
-
-“I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now, if
-he had not wished to avoid a certain gentleman here.”
-
-This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Lydia, was caught by
-Elizabeth; and, as it assured her that Darcy was not less answerable for
-Wickham’s absence than if her first surmise had been just, every feeling
-of displeasure against the former was so sharpened by immediate
-disappointment, that she could hardly reply with tolerable civility to
-the polite inquiries which he directly afterwards approached to make.
-Attention, forbearance, patience with Darcy, was injury to Wickham. She
-was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and turned away
-with a degree of ill-humour which she could not wholly surmount even in
-speaking to Mr. Bingley, whose blind partiality provoked her.
-
-But Elizabeth was not formed for ill-humour; and though every prospect
-of her own was destroyed for the evening, it could not dwell long on her
-spirits; and, having told all her griefs to Charlotte Lucas, whom she
-had not seen for a week, she was soon able to make a voluntary
-transition to the oddities of her cousin, and to point him out to her
-particular notice. The two first dances, however, brought a return of
-distress: they were dances of mortification. Mr. Collins, awkward and
-solemn, apologizing instead of attending, and often moving wrong
-without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery which a
-disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. The moment of her
-release from him was ecstasy.
-
-She danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment of talking of
-Wickham, and of hearing that he was universally liked. When those dances
-were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and was in conversation with
-her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy, who took
-her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without
-knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again
-immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of
-mind: Charlotte tried to console her.
-
-“I dare say you will find him very agreeable.”
-
-“Heaven forbid! _That_ would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find
-a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an
-evil.”
-
-When the dancing recommenced, however, and Darcy approached to claim her
-hand, Charlotte could not help cautioning her, in a whisper, not to be a
-simpleton, and allow her fancy for Wickham to make her appear unpleasant
-in the eyes of a man often times his consequence. Elizabeth made no
-answer, and took her place in the set, amazed at the dignity to which
-she was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Mr. Darcy, and
-reading in her neighbours’ looks their equal amazement in beholding it.
-They stood for some time without speaking a word; and she began to
-imagine that their silence was to last through the two dances, and, at
-first, was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it
-would be the greater punishment to her partner to oblige him to talk,
-she made some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again
-silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time,
-with--
-
-“It is _your_ turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. _I_ talked about the
-dance, and _you_ ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the
-room, or the number of couples.”
-
-He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be
-said.
-
-“Very well; that reply will do for the present. Perhaps, by-and-by, I
-may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones; but
-_now_ we may be silent.”
-
-“Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?”
-
-“Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be
-entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet, for the advantage of
-_some_, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have the
-trouble of saying as little as possible.”
-
-“Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you
-imagine that you are gratifying mine?”
-
-“Both,” replied Elizabeth archly; “for I have always seen a great
-similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial,
-taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say
-something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to
-posterity with all the _éclat_ of a proverb.”
-
-“This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,”
-said he. “How near it may be to _mine_, I cannot pretend to say. _You_
-think it a faithful portrait, undoubtedly.”
-
-“I must not decide on my own performance.”
-
-He made no answer; and they were again silent till they had gone down
-the dance, when he asked her if she and her sisters did not very often
-walk to Meryton. She answered in the affirmative; and, unable to resist
-the temptation, added, “When you met us there the other day, we had just
-been forming a new acquaintance.”
-
-The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of _hauteur_ overspread his
-features, but he said not a word; and Elizabeth, though blaming herself
-for her own weakness, could not go on. At length Darcy spoke, and in a
-constrained manner said,--
-
-“Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may insure his
-_making_ friends; whether he may be equally capable of _retaining_ them,
-is less certain.”
-
-“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” replied Elizabeth,
-with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all
-his life.”
-
-Darcy made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the subject. At
-that moment Sir William Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to pass
-through the set to the other side of the room; but, on perceiving Mr.
-Darcy, he stopped, with a bow of superior courtesy, to compliment him on
-his dancing and his partner.
-
-“I have been most highly gratified, indeed, my dear sir; such very
-superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the
-first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not
-disgrace you: and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated,
-especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss Eliza (glancing
-at her sister and Bingley), shall take place. What congratulations will
-then flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy;--but let me not interrupt you, sir.
-You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of
-that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.”
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“Such very superior dancing is not
-often seen.”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy; but Sir
-William’s allusion to his friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and his
-eyes were directed, with a very serious expression, towards Bingley and
-Jane, who were dancing together. Recovering himself, however, shortly,
-he turned to his partner, and said,--
-
-“Sir William’s interruption has made me forget what we were talking
-of.”
-
-“I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have
-interrupted any two people in the room who had less to say for
-themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success,
-and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine.”
-
-“What think you of books?” said he, smiling.
-
-“Books--oh no!--I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same
-feelings.”
-
-“I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be
-no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions.”
-
-“No--I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full of
-something else.”
-
-“The _present_ always occupies you in such scenes--does it?” said he,
-with a look of doubt.
-
-“Yes, always,” she replied, without knowing what she said; for her
-thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon afterwards appeared
-by her suddenly exclaiming, “I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy,
-that you hardly ever forgave;--that your resentment, once created, was
-unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its _being
-created_?”
-
-“I am,” said he, with a firm voice.
-
-“And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”
-
-“I hope not.”
-
-“It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion,
-to be secure of judging properly at first.”
-
-“May I ask to what these questions tend?”
-
-“Merely to the illustration of _your_ character,” said she, endeavouring
-to shake off her gravity. “I am trying to make it out.”
-
-“And what is your success?”
-
-She shook her head. “I do not get on at all. I hear such different
-accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”
-
-“I can readily believe,” answered he, gravely, “that reports may vary
-greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were
-not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to
-fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.”
-
-“But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another
-opportunity.”
-
-“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” he coldly replied.
-She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in
-silence; on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree; for
-in Darcy’s breast there was a tolerably powerful feeling towards her,
-which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against
-another.
-
-They had not long separated when Miss Bingley came towards her, and,
-with an expression of civil disdain, thus accosted her,--
-
-“So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with George Wickham?
-Your sister has been talking to me about him, and asking me a thousand
-questions; and I find that the young man forgot to tell you, among his
-other communications, that he was the son of old Wickham, the late Mr.
-Darcy’s steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to give
-implicit confidence to all his assertions; for, as to Mr. Darcy’s using
-him ill, it is perfectly false: for, on the contrary, he has been always
-remarkably kind to him, though George Wickham has treated Mr. Darcy in a
-most infamous manner. I do not know the particulars, but I know very
-well that Mr. Darcy is not in the least to blame; that he cannot bear
-to hear George Wickham mentioned; and that though my brother thought he
-could not well avoid including him in his invitation to the officers, he
-was excessively glad to find that he had taken himself out of the way.
-His coming into the country at all is a most insolent thing, indeed, and
-I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you, Miss Eliza, for this
-discovery of your favourite’s guilt; but really, considering his
-descent, one could not expect much better.”
-
-“His guilt and his descent appear, by your account, to be the same,”
-said Elizabeth, angrily; “for I have heard you accuse him of nothing
-worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy’s steward, and of _that_, I can
-assure you, he informed me himself.”
-
-“I beg your pardon,” replied Miss Bingley, turning away with a sneer.
-“Excuse my interference; it was kindly meant.”
-
-“Insolent girl!” said Elizabeth to herself. “You are much mistaken if
-you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack as this. I see
-nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr.
-Darcy.” She then sought her eldest sister, who had undertaken to make
-inquiries on the same subject of Bingley. Jane met her with a smile of
-such sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as sufficiently
-marked how well she was satisfied with the occurrences of the evening.
-Elizabeth instantly read her feelings; and, at that moment, solicitude
-for Wickham, resentment against his enemies, and everything else, gave
-way before the hope of Jane’s being in the fairest way for happiness.
-
-“I want to know,” said she, with a countenance no less smiling than her
-sister’s, “what you have learnt about Mr. Wickham. But perhaps you have
-been too pleasantly engaged to think of any third person, in which case
-you may be sure of my pardon.”
-
-“No,” replied Jane, “I have not forgotten him; but I have nothing
-satisfactory to tell you. Mr. Bingley does not know the whole of his
-history, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have
-principally offended Mr. Darcy; but he will vouch for the good conduct,
-the probity and honour, of his friend, and is perfectly convinced that
-Mr. Wickham has deserved much less attention from Mr. Darcy than he has
-received; and I am sorry to say that by his account, as well as his
-sister’s, Mr. Wickham is by no means a respectable young man. I am
-afraid he has been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr. Darcy’s
-regard.”
-
-“Mr. Bingley does not know Mr. Wickham himself.”
-
-“No; he never saw him till the other morning at Meryton.”
-
-“This account then is what he has received from Mr. Darcy. I am
-perfectly satisfied. But what does he say of the living?”
-
-“He does not exactly recollect the circumstances, though he has heard
-them from Mr. Darcy more than once, but he believes that it was left to
-him _conditionally_ only.”
-
-“I have not a doubt of Mr. Bingley’s sincerity,” said Elizabeth warmly,
-“but you must excuse my not being convinced by assurances only. Mr.
-Bingley’s defence of his friend was a very able one, I dare say; but
-since he is unacquainted with several parts of the story, and has learnt
-the rest from that friend himself, I shall venture still to think of
-both gentlemen as I did before.”
-
-She then changed the discourse to one more gratifying to each, and on
-which there could be no difference of sentiment. Elizabeth listened with
-delight to the happy though modest hopes which Jane entertained of
-Bingley’s regard, and said all in her power to heighten her confidence
-in it. On their being joined by Mr. Bingley himself, Elizabeth withdrew
-to Miss Lucas; to whose inquiry after the pleasantness of her last
-partner she had scarcely replied, before Mr. Collins came up to them,
-and told her with great exultation, that he had just been so fortunate
-as to make a most important discovery.
-
-“I have found out,” said he, “by a singular accident, that there is now
-in the room a near relation to my patroness. I happened to overhear the
-gentleman himself mentioning to the young lady who does the honours of
-this house the names of his cousin Miss De Bourgh, and of her mother,
-Lady Catherine. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! Who would
-have thought of my meeting with--perhaps--a nephew of Lady Catherine de
-Bourgh in this assembly! I am most thankful that the discovery is made
-in time for me to pay my respects to him, which I am now going to do,
-and trust he will excuse my not having done it before. My total
-ignorance of the connection must plead my apology.”
-
-“You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy?”
-
-“Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier.
-I believe him to be Lady Catherine’s _nephew_. It will be in my power to
-assure him that her Ladyship was quite well yesterday se’nnight.”
-
-Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme; assuring him
-that Mr. Darcy would consider his addressing him without introduction as
-an impertinent freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; that it
-was not in the least necessary there should be any notice on either
-side, and that if it were, it must belong to Mr. Darcy, the superior in
-consequence, to begin the acquaintance. Mr. Collins listened to her with
-the determined air of following his own inclination, and when she ceased
-speaking, replied thus,--
-
-“My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world of your
-excellent judgment in all matters within the scope of your
-understanding, but permit me to say that there must be a wide difference
-between the established forms of ceremony amongst the laity and those
-which regulate the clergy; for, give me leave to observe that I consider
-the clerical office as equal in point of dignity with the highest rank
-in the kingdom--provided that a proper humility of behaviour is at the
-same time maintained. You must, therefore, allow me to follow the
-dictates of my conscience on this occasion, which lead me to perform
-what I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to profit by
-your advice, which on every other subject shall be my constant guide,
-though in the case before us I consider myself more fitted by education
-and habitual study to decide on what is right than a young lady like
-yourself;” and with a low bow he left her to attack Mr. Darcy, whose
-reception of his advances she eagerly watched, and whose astonishment at
-being so addressed was very evident. Her cousin prefaced his speech with
-a solemn bow, and though she could not hear a word of it, she felt as if
-hearing it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the words “apology,”
-“Hunsford,” and “Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” It vexed her to see him
-expose himself to such a man. Mr. Darcy was eyeing him with
-unrestrained wonder; and when at last Mr. Collins allowed him to speak,
-replied with an air of distant civility. Mr. Collins, however, was not
-discouraged from speaking again, and Mr. Darcy’s contempt seemed
-abundantly increasing with the length of his second speech; and at the
-end of it he only made him a slight bow, and moved another way: Mr.
-Collins then returned to Elizabeth.
-
-“I have no reason, I assure you,” said he, “to be dissatisfied with my
-reception. Mr. Darcy seemed much pleased with the attention. He answered
-me with the utmost civility, and even paid me the compliment of saying,
-that he was so well convinced of Lady Catherine’s discernment as to be
-certain she could never bestow a favour unworthily. It was really a very
-handsome thought. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him.”
-
-As Elizabeth had no longer any interest of her own to pursue, she turned
-her attention almost entirely on her sister and Mr. Bingley; and the
-train of agreeable reflections which her observations gave birth to made
-her perhaps almost as happy as Jane. She saw her in idea settled in that
-very house, in all the felicity which a marriage of true affection could
-bestow; and she felt capable, under such circumstances, of endeavouring
-even to like Bingley’s two sisters. Her mother’s thoughts she plainly
-saw were bent the same way, and she determined not to venture near her,
-lest she might hear too much. When they sat down to supper, therefore,
-she considered it a most unlucky perverseness which placed them within
-one of each other; and deeply was she vexed to find that her mother was
-talking to that one person (Lady Lucas) freely, openly, and of nothing
-else but of her expectation that Jane would be soon married to Mr.
-Bingley. It was an animating subject, and Mrs. Bennet seemed incapable
-of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. His being such
-a charming young man, and so rich, and living but three miles from them,
-were the first points of self-gratulation; and then it was such a
-comfort to think how fond the two sisters were of Jane, and to be
-certain that they must desire the connection as much as she could do. It
-was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger daughters, as
-Jane’s marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men;
-and, lastly, it was so pleasant at her time of life to be able to
-consign her single daughters to the care of their sister, that she might
-not be obliged to go into company more than she liked. It was necessary
-to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure, because on such
-occasions it is the etiquette; but no one was less likely than Mrs.
-Bennet to find comfort in staying at home at any period of her life. She
-concluded with many good wishes that Lady Lucas might soon be equally
-fortunate, though evidently and triumphantly believing there was no
-chance of it.
-
-In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity of her mother’s
-words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible
-whisper; for to her inexpressible vexation she could perceive that the
-chief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, who sat opposite to them. Her
-mother only scolded her for being nonsensical.
-
-“What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am
-sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say
-nothing _he_ may not like to hear.”
-
-“For heaven’s sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be to you
-to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by
-so doing.”
-
-Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her mother would
-talk of her views in the same intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushed and
-blushed again with shame and vexation. She could not help frequently
-glancing her eye at Mr. Darcy, though every glance convinced her of what
-she dreaded; for though he was not always looking at her mother, she was
-convinced that his attention was invariably fixed by her. The expression
-of his face changed gradually from indignant contempt to a composed and
-steady gravity.
-
-At length, however, Mrs. Bennet had no more to say; and Lady Lucas, who
-had been long yawning at the repetition of delights which she saw no
-likelihood of sharing, was left to the comforts of cold ham and chicken.
-Elizabeth now began to revive. But not long was the interval of
-tranquillity; for when supper was over, singing was talked of, and she
-had the mortification of seeing Mary, after very little entreaty,
-preparing to oblige the company. By many significant looks and silent
-entreaties did she endeavour to prevent such a proof of
-complaisance,--but in vain; Mary would not understand them; such an
-opportunity of exhibiting was delightful to her, and she began her song.
-Elizabeth’s eyes were fixed on her, with most painful sensations; and
-she watched her progress through the several stanzas with an impatience
-which was very ill rewarded at their close; for Mary, on receiving
-amongst the thanks of the table the hint of a hope that she might be
-prevailed on to favour them again, after the pause of half a minute
-began another. Mary’s powers were by no means fitted for such a display;
-her voice was weak, and her manner affected. Elizabeth was in agonies.
-She looked at Jane to see how she bore it; but Jane was very composedly
-talking to Bingley. She looked at his two sisters, and saw them making
-signs of derision at each other, and at Darcy, who continued, however,
-impenetrably grave. She looked at her father to entreat his
-interference, lest Mary should be singing all night. He took the hint,
-and, when Mary had finished her second song, said aloud,--
-
-“That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough.
-Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.”
-
-Mary, though pretending not to hear, was somewhat disconcerted; and
-Elizabeth, sorry for her, and sorry for her father’s speech, was afraid
-her anxiety had done no good. Others of the party were now applied to.
-
-“If I,” said Mr. Collins, “were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I
-should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an
-air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly
-compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean, however,
-to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time to
-music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The
-rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make such
-an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself and not
-offensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the time
-that remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the care
-and improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making
-as comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importance
-that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards
-everybody, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I
-cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well of the man who
-should omit an occasion of testifying his respect towards anybody
-connected with the family.” And with a bow to Mr. Darcy, he concluded
-his speech, which had been spoken so loud as to be heard by half the
-room. Many stared--many smiled; but no one looked more amused than Mr.
-Bennet himself, while his wife seriously commended Mr. Collins for
-having spoken so sensibly, and observed, in a half-whisper to Lady
-Lucas, that he was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man.
-
-To Elizabeth it appeared, that had her family made an agreement to
-expose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would
-have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit, or
-finer success; and happy did she think it for Bingley and her sister
-that some of the exhibition had escaped his notice, and that his
-feelings were not of a sort to be much distressed by the folly which he
-must have witnessed. That his two sisters and Mr. Darcy, however, should
-have such an opportunity of ridiculing her relations was bad enough; and
-she could not determine whether the silent contempt of the gentleman, or
-the insolent smiles of the ladies, were more intolerable.
-
-The rest of the evening brought her little amusement. She was teased by
-Mr. Collins, who continued most perseveringly by her side; and though he
-could not prevail with her to dance with him again, put it out of her
-power to dance with others. In vain did she entreat him to stand up with
-somebody else, and offered to introduce him to any young lady in the
-room. He assured her that, as to dancing, he was perfectly indifferent
-to it; that his chief object was, by delicate attentions, to recommend
-himself to her; and that he should therefore make a point of remaining
-close to her the whole evening. There was no arguing upon such a
-project. She owed her greatest relief to her friend Miss Lucas, who
-often joined them, and good-naturedly engaged Mr. Collins’s conversation
-to herself.
-
-She was at least free from the offence of Mr. Darcy’s further notice:
-though often standing within a very short distance of her, quite
-disengaged, he never came near enough to speak. She felt it to be the
-probable consequence of her allusions to Mr. Wickham, and rejoiced in
-it.
-
-The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart; and by a
-manœuvre of Mrs. Bennet had to wait for their carriage a quarter of an
-hour after everybody else was gone, which gave them time to see how
-heartily they were wished away by some of the family. Mrs. Hurst and her
-sister scarcely opened their mouths except to complain of fatigue, and
-were evidently impatient to have the house to themselves. They repulsed
-every attempt of Mrs. Bennet at conversation, and, by so doing, threw a
-languor over the whole party, which was very little relieved by the long
-speeches of Mr. Collins, who was complimenting Mr. Bingley and his
-sisters on the elegance of their entertainment, and the hospitality and
-politeness which had marked their behaviour to their guests. Darcy said
-nothing at all. Mr. Bennet, in equal silence, was enjoying the scene.
-Mr. Bingley and Jane were standing together a little detached from the
-rest, and talked only to each other. Elizabeth preserved as steady a
-silence as either Mrs. Hurst or Miss Bingley; and even Lydia was too
-much fatigued to utter more than the occasional exclamation of “Lord,
-how tired I am!” accompanied by a violent yawn.
-
-When at length they arose to take leave, Mrs. Bennet was most pressingly
-civil in her hope of seeing the whole family soon at Longbourn; and
-addressed herself particularly to Mr. Bingley, to assure him how happy
-he would make them, by eating a family dinner with them at any time,
-without the ceremony of a formal invitation. Bingley was all grateful
-pleasure; and he readily engaged for taking the earliest opportunity of
-waiting on her after his return from London, whither he was obliged to
-go the next day for a short time.
-
-Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied; and quitted the house under the
-delightful persuasion that, allowing for the necessary preparations of
-settlements, new carriages, and wedding clothes, she should undoubtedly
-see her daughter settled at Netherfield in the course of three or four
-months. Of having another daughter married to Mr. Collins she thought
-with equal certainty, and with considerable, though not equal, pleasure.
-Elizabeth was the least dear to her of all her children; and though the
-man and the match were quite good enough for _her_, the worth of each
-was eclipsed by Mr. Bingley and Netherfield.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “to assure you in the most animated language”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIX.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. Mr. Collins made his
-declaration in form. Having resolved to do it without loss of time, as
-his leave of absence extended only to the following Saturday, and having
-no feelings of diffidence to make it distressing to himself even at the
-moment, he set about it in a very orderly manner, with all the
-observances which he supposed a regular part of the business. On finding
-Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth, and one of the younger girls together, soon
-after breakfast, he addressed the mother in these words,--
-
-“May I hope, madam, for your interest with your fair daughter Elizabeth,
-when I solicit for the honour of a private audience with her in the
-course of this morning?”
-
-Before Elizabeth had time for anything but a blush of surprise, Mrs.
-Bennet instantly answered,--
-
-“Oh dear! Yes, certainly. I am sure Lizzy will be very happy--I am sure
-she can have no objection. Come, Kitty, I want you upstairs.” And
-gathering her work together, she was hastening away, when Elizabeth
-called out,--
-
-“Dear ma’am, do not go. I beg you will not go. Mr. Collins must excuse
-me. He can have nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear. I am
-going away myself.”
-
-“No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. I desire you will stay where you are.” And
-upon Elizabeth’s seeming really, with vexed and embarrassed looks, about
-to escape, she added, “Lizzy, I _insist_ upon your staying and hearing
-Mr. Collins.”
-
-Elizabeth would not oppose such an injunction; and a moment’s
-consideration making her also sensible that it would be wisest to get it
-over as soon and as quietly as possible, she sat down again, and tried
-to conceal, by incessant employment, the feelings which were divided
-between distress and diversion. Mrs. Bennet and Kitty walked off, and as
-soon as they were gone, Mr. Collins began,--
-
-“Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that your modesty, so far from
-doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You
-would have been less amiable in my eyes had there _not_ been this little
-unwillingness; but allow me to assure you that I have your respected
-mother’s permission for this address. You can hardly doubt the purport
-of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to
-dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as
-soon as I entered the house I singled you out as the companion of my
-future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this
-subject, perhaps it will be advisable for me to state my reasons for
-marrying--and, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design
-of selecting a wife, as I certainly did.”
-
-The idea of Mr. Collins, with all his solemn composure, being run away
-with by his feelings, made Elizabeth so near laughing that she could not
-use the short pause he allowed in any attempt to stop him farther, and
-he continued,--
-
-“My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for
-every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example
-of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced it will add
-very greatly to my happiness; and, thirdly, which perhaps I ought to
-have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and
-recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling
-patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked
-too!) on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I
-left Hunsford,--between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was
-arranging Miss De Bourgh’s footstool,--that she said, ‘Mr. Collins, you
-must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a
-gentlewoman for _my_ sake, and for your _own_; let her be an active,
-useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small
-income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as
-you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her.’ Allow me, by the
-way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and
-kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the
-advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond
-anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity, I think, must be
-acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect
-which her rank will inevitably excite. Thus much for my general
-intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views
-were directed to Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I
-assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that
-being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honoured
-father (who, however, may live many years longer), I could not satisfy
-myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters, that
-the loss to them might be as little as possible when the melancholy
-event takes place--which, however, as I have already said, may not be
-for several years. This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I
-flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing
-remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the
-violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and
-shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well
-aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds
-in the 4 per cents., which will not be yours till after your mother’s
-decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head,
-therefore, I shall be uniformly silent: and you may assure yourself that
-no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married.”
-
-It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now.
-
-“You are too hasty, sir,” she cried. “You forget that I have made no
-answer. Let me do it without further loss of time. Accept my thanks for
-the compliment you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of
-your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than decline
-them.”
-
-“I am not now to learn,” replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the
-hand, “that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the
-man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their
-favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a
-third time. I am, therefore, by no means discouraged by what you have
-just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long.”
-
-“Upon my word, sir,” cried Elizabeth, “your hope is rather an
-extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I am not
-one of those young ladies (if such young ladies there are) who are so
-daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second
-time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make _me_
-happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who
-would make _you_ so. Nay, were your friend Lady Catherine to know me, I
-am persuaded she would find me in every respect ill qualified for the
-situation.”
-
-“Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so,” said Mr. Collins,
-very gravely--“but I cannot imagine that her Ladyship would at all
-disapprove of you. And you may be certain that when I have the honour of
-seeing her again I shall speak in the highest terms of your modesty,
-economy, and other amiable qualifications.”
-
-“Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. You must
-give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the compliment of
-believing what I say. I wish you very happy and very rich, and by
-refusing your hand, do all in my power to prevent your being otherwise.
-In making me the offer, you must have satisfied the delicacy of your
-feelings with regard to my family, and may take possession of Longbourn
-estate whenever it falls, without any self-reproach. This matter may be
-considered, therefore, as finally settled.” And rising as she thus
-spoke, she would have quitted the room, had not Mr. Collins thus
-addressed her,--
-
-“When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the subject, I
-shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given
-me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I
-know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the
-first application, and, perhaps, you have even now said as much to
-encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the
-female character.”
-
-“Really, Mr. Collins,” cried Elizabeth, with some warmth, “you puzzle me
-exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form
-of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as
-may convince you of its being one.”
-
-“You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your
-refusal of my addresses are merely words of course. My reasons for
-believing it are briefly these:--It does not appear to me that my hand
-is unworthy of your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer
-would be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my
-connections with the family of De Bourgh, and my relationship to your
-own, are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into
-further consideration that, in spite of your manifold attractions, it is
-by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you.
-Your portion is unhappily so small, that it will in all likelihood undo
-the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must,
-therefore, conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I
-shall choose to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by
-suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.”
-
-“I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretensions whatever to that kind
-of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. I would
-rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you
-again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but
-to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect
-forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant
-female intending to plague you, but as a rational creature speaking the
-truth from her heart.”
-
-“You are uniformly charming!” cried he, with an air of awkward
-gallantry; “and I am persuaded that, when sanctioned by the express
-authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of
-being acceptable.”
-
-To such perseverance in wilful self-deception Elizabeth would make no
-reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew; determined, that if he
-persisted in considering her repeated refusals as flattering
-encouragement, to apply to her father, whose negative might be uttered
-in such a manner as must be decisive, and whose behaviour at least could
-not be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant female.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XX.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Mr. Collins was not left long to the silent contemplation of his
-successful love; for Mrs. Bennet, having dawdled about in the vestibule
-to watch for the end of the conference, no sooner saw Elizabeth open the
-door and with quick step pass her towards the staircase, than she
-entered the breakfast-room, and congratulated both him and herself in
-warm terms on the happy prospect of their nearer connection. Mr. Collins
-received and returned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and then
-proceeded to relate the particulars of their interview, with the result
-of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied, since the
-refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him would naturally flow
-from her bashful modesty and the genuine delicacy of her character.
-
-This information, however, startled Mrs. Bennet: she would have been
-glad to be equally satisfied that her daughter had meant to encourage
-him by protesting against his proposals, but she dared not believe it,
-and could not help saying so.
-
-“But depend upon it, Mr. Collins,” she added, “that Lizzy shall be
-brought to reason. I will speak to her about it myself directly. She is
-a very headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her own interest; but
-I will _make_ her know it.”
-
-“Pardon me for interrupting you, madam,” cried Mr. Collins; “but if she
-is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether she would
-altogether be a very desirable wife to a man in my situation, who
-naturally looks for happiness in the marriage state. If, therefore, she
-actually persists in rejecting my suit, perhaps it were better not to
-force her into accepting me, because, if liable to such defects of
-temper, she could not contribute much to my felicity.”
-
-“Sir, you quite misunderstand me,” said Mrs. Bennet, alarmed. “Lizzy is
-only headstrong in such matters as these. In everything else she is as
-good-natured a girl as ever lived. I will go directly to Mr. Bennet, and
-we shall very soon settle it with her, I am sure.”
-
-She would not give him time to reply, but hurrying instantly to her
-husband, called out, as she entered the library,--
-
-“Oh, Mr. Bennet, you are wanted immediately; we are all in an uproar.
-You must come and make Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows she will
-not have him; and if you do not make haste he will change his mind and
-not have _her_.”
-
-Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and fixed them
-on her face with a calm unconcern, which was not in the least altered by
-her communication.
-
-“I have not the pleasure of understanding you,” said he, when she had
-finished her speech. “Of what are you talking?”
-
-“Of Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not have Mr. Collins,
-and Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not have Lizzy.”
-
-“And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems a hopeless business.”
-
-“Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon her
-marrying him.”
-
-“Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion.”
-
-Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was summoned to the
-library.
-
-“Come here, child,” cried her father as she appeared. “I have sent for
-you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr. Collins has made
-you an offer of marriage. Is it true?”
-
-Elizabeth replied that it was.
-
-“Very well--and this offer of marriage you have refused?”
-
-“I have, sir.”
-
-“Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your
-accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs. Bennet?”
-
-“Yes, or I will never see her again.”
-
-“An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must
-be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you
-again if you do _not_ marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again
-if you _do_.”
-
-Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning;
-but Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded the
-affair as she wished, was excessively disappointed.
-
-“What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, by talking in this way? You promised me
-to _insist_ upon her marrying him.”
-
-“My dear,” replied her husband, “I have two small favours to request.
-First, that you will allow me the free use of my understanding on the
-present occasion; and, secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have the
-library to myself as soon as may be.”
-
-Not yet, however, in spite of her disappointment in her husband, did
-Mrs. Bennet give up the point. She talked to Elizabeth again and again;
-coaxed and threatened her by turns. She endeavoured to secure Jane in
-her interest, but Jane, with all possible mildness, declined
-interfering; and Elizabeth, sometimes with real earnestness, and
-sometimes with playful gaiety, replied to her attacks. Though her manner
-varied, however, her determination never did.
-
-Mr. Collins, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on what had passed.
-He thought too well of himself to comprehend on what motive his cousin
-could refuse him; and though his pride was hurt, he suffered in no other
-way. His regard for her was quite imaginary; and the possibility of her
-deserving her mother’s reproach prevented his feeling any regret.
-
-While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came to spend
-the day with them. She was met in the vestibule by Lydia, who, flying to
-her, cried in a half whisper, “I am glad you are come, for there is such
-fun here! What do you think has happened this morning? Mr. Collins has
-made an offer to Lizzy, and she will not have him.”
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “they entered the breakfast room”
-]
-
-Charlotte had hardly time to answer before they were joined by Kitty,
-who came to tell the same news; and no sooner had they entered the
-breakfast-room, where Mrs. Bennet was alone, than she likewise began on
-the subject, calling on Miss Lucas for her compassion, and entreating
-her to persuade her friend Lizzy to comply with the wishes of her
-family. “Pray do, my dear Miss Lucas,” she added, in a melancholy tone;
-“for nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me; I am cruelly used,
-nobody feels for my poor nerves.”
-
-Charlotte’s reply was spared by the entrance of Jane and Elizabeth.
-
-“Ay, there she comes,” continued Mrs. Bennet, “looking as unconcerned as
-may be, and caring no more for us than if we were at York, provided she
-can have her own way. But I tell you what, Miss Lizzy, if you take it
-into your head to go on refusing every offer of marriage in this way,
-you will never get a husband at all--and I am sure I do not know who is
-to maintain you when your father is dead. _I_ shall not be able to keep
-you--and so I warn you. I have done with you from this very day. I told
-you in the library, you know, that I should never speak to you again,
-and you will find me as good as my word. I have no pleasure in talking
-to undutiful children. Not that I have much pleasure, indeed, in talking
-to anybody. People who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have
-no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it
-is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied.”
-
-Her daughters listened in silence to this effusion, sensible that any
-attempt to reason with or soothe her would only increase the irritation.
-She talked on, therefore, without interruption from any of them till
-they were joined by Mr. Collins, who entered with an air more stately
-than usual, and on perceiving whom, she said to the girls,--
-
-“Now, I do insist upon it, that you, all of you, hold your tongues, and
-let Mr. Collins and me have a little conversation together.”
-
-Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kitty followed, but
-Lydia stood her ground, determined to hear all she could; and Charlotte,
-detained first by the civility of Mr. Collins, whose inquiries after
-herself and all her family were very minute, and then by a little
-curiosity, satisfied herself with walking to the window and pretending
-not to hear. In a doleful voice Mrs. Bennet thus began the projected
-conversation:--
-
-“Oh, Mr. Collins!”
-
-“My dear madam,” replied he, “let us be for ever silent on this point.
-Far be it from me,” he presently continued, in a voice that marked his
-displeasure, “to resent the behaviour of your daughter. Resignation to
-inevitable evils is the duty of us all: the peculiar duty of a young man
-who has been so fortunate as I have been, in early preferment; and, I
-trust, I am resigned. Perhaps not the less so from feeling a doubt of my
-positive happiness had my fair cousin honoured me with her hand; for I
-have often observed, that resignation is never so perfect as when the
-blessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in our estimation.
-You will not, I hope, consider me as showing any disrespect to your
-family, my dear madam, by thus withdrawing my pretensions to your
-daughter’s favour, without having paid yourself and Mr. Bennet the
-compliment of requesting you to interpose your authority in my behalf.
-My conduct may, I fear, be objectionable in having accepted my
-dismission from your daughter’s lips instead of your own; but we are all
-liable to error. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair.
-My object has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with due
-consideration for the advantage of all your family; and if my _manner_
-has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to apologize.”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXI.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The discussion of Mr. Collins’s offer was now nearly at an end, and
-Elizabeth had only to suffer from the uncomfortable feelings necessarily
-attending it, and occasionally from some peevish allusion of her mother.
-As for the gentleman himself, _his_ feelings were chiefly expressed, not
-by embarrassment or dejection, or by trying to avoid her, but by
-stiffness of manner and resentful silence. He scarcely ever spoke to
-her; and the assiduous attentions which he had been so sensible of
-himself were transferred for the rest of the day to Miss Lucas, whose
-civility in listening to him was a seasonable relief to them all, and
-especially to her friend.
-
-The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Bennet’s ill humour or ill
-health. Mr. Collins was also in the same state of angry pride. Elizabeth
-had hoped that his resentment might shorten his visit, but his plan did
-not appear in the least affected by it. He was always to have gone on
-Saturday, and to Saturday he still meant to stay.
-
-After breakfast, the girls walked to Meryton, to inquire if Mr. Wickham
-were returned, and to lament over his absence from the Netherfield ball.
-He joined them on their entering the town, and attended them to their
-aunt’s, where his regret and vexation and the concern of everybody were
-well talked over. To Elizabeth, however, he voluntarily acknowledged
-that the necessity of his absence _had_ been self-imposed.
-
-“I found,” said he, “as the time drew near, that I had better not meet
-Mr. Darcy;--that to be in the same room, the same party with him for so
-many hours together, might be more than I could bear, and that scenes
-might arise unpleasant to more than myself.”
-
-She highly approved his forbearance; and they had leisure for a full
-discussion of it, and for all the commendations which they civilly
-bestowed on each other, as Wickham and another officer walked back with
-them to Longbourn, and during the walk he particularly attended to her.
-His accompanying them was a double advantage: she felt all the
-compliment it offered to herself; and it was most acceptable as an
-occasion of introducing him to her father and mother.
-
-[Illustration: “Walked back with them”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet; it came
-from Netherfield, and was opened immediately. The envelope contained a
-sheet of elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady’s
-fair, flowing hand; and Elizabeth saw her sister’s countenance change as
-she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular passages.
-Jane recollected herself soon; and putting the letter away, tried to
-join, with her usual cheerfulness, in the general conversation: but
-Elizabeth felt an anxiety on the subject which drew off her attention
-even from Wickham; and no sooner had he and his companion taken leave,
-than a glance from Jane invited her to follow her upstairs. When they
-had gained their own room, Jane, taking out her letter, said, “This is
-from Caroline Bingley: what it contains has surprised me a good deal.
-The whole party have left Netherfield by this time, and are on their way
-to town; and without any intention of coming back again. You shall hear
-what she says.”
-
-She then read the first sentence aloud, which comprised the information
-of their having just resolved to follow their brother to town directly,
-and of their meaning to dine that day in Grosvenor Street, where Mr.
-Hurst had a house. The next was in these words:--“‘I do not pretend to
-regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire except your society, my
-dearest friend; but we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many
-returns of that delightful intercourse we have known, and in the
-meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most
-unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that.’” To these
-high-flown expressions Elizabeth listened with all the insensibility of
-distrust; and though the suddenness of their removal surprised her, she
-saw nothing in it really to lament: it was not to be supposed that their
-absence from Netherfield would prevent Mr. Bingley’s being there; and as
-to the loss of their society, she was persuaded that Jane must soon
-cease to regard it in the enjoyment of his.
-
-“It is unlucky,” said she, after a short pause, “that you should not be
-able to see your friends before they leave the country. But may we not
-hope that the period of future happiness, to which Miss Bingley looks
-forward, may arrive earlier than she is aware, and that the delightful
-intercourse you have known as friends will be renewed with yet greater
-satisfaction as sisters? Mr. Bingley will not be detained in London by
-them.”
-
-“Caroline decidedly says that none of the party will return into
-Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you.
-
-“‘When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which
-took him to London might be concluded in three or four days; but as we
-are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when
-Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have
-determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend
-his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintance are
-already there for the winter: I wish I could hear that you, my dearest
-friend, had any intention of making one in the crowd, but of that I
-despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in
-the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux
-will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of
-whom we shall deprive you.’
-
-“It is evident by this,” added Jane, “that he comes back no more this
-winter.”
-
-“It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not mean he _should_.”
-
-“Why will you think so? It must be his own doing; he is his own master.
-But you do not know _all_. I _will_ read you the passage which
-particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves from _you_. ‘Mr. Darcy is
-impatient to see his sister; and to confess the truth, _we_ are scarcely
-less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has
-her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection
-she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still
-more interesting from the hope we dare to entertain of her being
-hereafter our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to
-you my feelings on this subject, but I will not leave the country
-without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them
-unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; he will have
-frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing; her
-relations all wish the connection as much as his own; and a sister’s
-partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most
-capable of engaging any woman’s heart. With all these circumstances to
-favour an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest
-Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness
-of so many?’ What think you of _this_ sentence, my dear Lizzy?” said
-Jane, as she finished it. “Is it not clear enough? Does it not expressly
-declare that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be her sister;
-that she is perfectly convinced of her brother’s indifference; and that
-if she suspects the nature of my feelings for him she means (most
-kindly!) to put me on my guard. Can there be any other opinion on the
-subject?”
-
-“Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?”
-
-“Most willingly.”
-
-“You shall have it in a few words. Miss Bingley sees that her brother is
-in love with you and wants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him to
-town in the hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he
-does not care about you.”
-
-Jane shook her head.
-
-“Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. No one who has ever seen you
-together can doubt his affection; Miss Bingley, I am sure, cannot: she
-is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen half as much love in Mr.
-Darcy for herself, she would have ordered her wedding clothes. But the
-case is this:--we are not rich enough or grand enough for them; and she
-is the more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion
-that when there has been _one_ inter-marriage, she may have less trouble
-in achieving a second; in which there is certainly some ingenuity, and I
-dare say it would succeed if Miss de Bourgh were out of the way. But, my
-dearest Jane, you cannot seriously imagine that, because Miss Bingley
-tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, he is in the smallest
-degree less sensible of _your_ merit than when he took leave of you on
-Tuesday; or that it will be in her power to persuade him that, instead
-of being in love with you, he is very much in love with her friend.”
-
-“If we thought alike of Miss Bingley,” replied Jane, “your
-representation of all this might make me quite easy. But I know the
-foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of wilfully deceiving
-anyone; and all that I can hope in this case is, that she is deceived
-herself.”
-
-“That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea, since you
-will not take comfort in mine: believe her to be deceived, by all means.
-You have now done your duty by her, and must fret no longer.”
-
-“But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even supposing the best, in
-accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to marry
-elsewhere?”
-
-“You must decide for yourself,” said Elizabeth; “and if, upon mature
-deliberation, you find that the misery of disobliging his two sisters is
-more than equivalent to the happiness of being his wife, I advise you,
-by all means, to refuse him.”
-
-“How can you talk so?” said Jane, faintly smiling; “you must know, that,
-though I should be exceedingly grieved at their disapprobation, I could
-not hesitate.”
-
-“I did not think you would; and that being the case, I cannot consider
-your situation with much compassion.”
-
-“But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never be
-required. A thousand things may arise in six months.”
-
-The idea of his returning no more Elizabeth treated with the utmost
-contempt. It appeared to her merely the suggestion of Caroline’s
-interested wishes; and she could not for a moment suppose that those
-wishes, however openly or artfully spoken, could influence a young man
-so totally independent of everyone.
-
-She represented to her sister, as forcibly as possible, what she felt on
-the subject, and had soon the pleasure of seeing its happy effect.
-Jane’s temper was not desponding; and she was gradually led to hope,
-though the diffidence of affection sometimes overcame the hope, that
-Bingley would return to Netherfield, and answer every wish of her heart.
-
-They agreed that Mrs. Bennet should only hear of the departure of the
-family, without being alarmed on the score of the gentleman’s conduct;
-but even this partial communication gave her a great deal of concern,
-and she bewailed it as exceedingly unlucky that the ladies should happen
-to go away just as they were all getting so intimate together. After
-lamenting it, however, at some length, she had the consolation of
-thinking that Mr. Bingley would be soon down again, and soon dining at
-Longbourn; and the conclusion of all was the comfortable declaration,
-that, though he had been invited only to a family dinner, she would take
-care to have two full courses.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucases; and again, during the
-chief of the day, was Miss Lucas so kind as to listen to Mr. Collins.
-Elizabeth took an opportunity of thanking her. “It keeps him in good
-humour,” said she, “and I am more obliged to you than I can express.”
-
-Charlotte assured her friend of her satisfaction in being useful, and
-that it amply repaid her for the little sacrifice of her time. This was
-very amiable; but Charlotte’s kindness extended farther than Elizabeth
-had any conception of:--its object was nothing less than to secure her
-from any return of Mr. Collins’s addresses, by engaging them towards
-herself. Such was Miss Lucas’s scheme; and appearances were so
-favourable, that when they parted at night, she would have felt almost
-sure of success if he had not been to leave Hertfordshire so very soon.
-But here she did injustice to the fire and independence of his
-character; for it led him to escape out of Longbourn House the next
-morning with admirable slyness, and hasten to Lucas Lodge to throw
-himself at her feet. He was anxious to avoid the notice of his cousins,
-from a conviction that, if they saw him depart, they could not fail to
-conjecture his design, and he was not willing to have the attempt known
-till its success could be known likewise; for, though feeling almost
-secure, and with reason, for Charlotte had been tolerably encouraging,
-he was comparatively diffident since the adventure of Wednesday. His
-reception, however, was of the most flattering kind. Miss Lucas
-perceived him from an upper window as he walked towards the house, and
-instantly set out to meet him accidentally in the lane. But little had
-she dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited her there.
-
-In as short a time as Mr. Collins’s long speeches would allow,
-everything was settled between them to the satisfaction of both; and as
-they entered the house, he earnestly entreated her to name the day that
-was to make him the happiest of men; and though such a solicitation must
-be waived for the present, the lady felt no inclination to trifle with
-his happiness. The stupidity with which he was favoured by nature must
-guard his courtship from any charm that could make a woman wish for its
-continuance; and Miss Lucas, who accepted him solely from the pure and
-disinterested desire of an establishment, cared not how soon that
-establishment were gained.
-
-Sir William and Lady Lucas were speedily applied to for their consent;
-and it was bestowed with a most joyful alacrity. Mr. Collins’s present
-circumstances made it a most eligible match for their daughter, to whom
-they could give little fortune; and his prospects of future wealth were
-exceedingly fair. Lady Lucas began directly to calculate, with more
-interest than the matter had ever
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “So much love and eloquence”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-excited before, how many years longer Mr. Bennet was likely to live; and
-Sir William gave it as his decided opinion, that whenever Mr. Collins
-should be in possession of the Longbourn estate, it would be highly
-expedient that both he and his wife should make their appearance at St.
-James’s. The whole family in short were properly overjoyed on the
-occasion. The younger girls formed hopes of _coming out_ a year or two
-sooner than they might otherwise have done; and the boys were relieved
-from their apprehension of Charlotte’s dying an old maid. Charlotte
-herself was tolerably composed. She had gained her point, and had time
-to consider of it. Her reflections were in general satisfactory. Mr.
-Collins, to be sure, was neither sensible nor agreeable: his society was
-irksome, and his attachment to her must be imaginary. But still he would
-be her husband. Without thinking highly either of men or of matrimony,
-marriage had always been her object: it was the only honourable
-provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and, however
-uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative
-from want. This preservative she had now obtained; and at the age of
-twenty-seven, without having ever been handsome, she felt all the good
-luck of it. The least agreeable circumstance in the business was the
-surprise it must occasion to Elizabeth Bennet, whose friendship she
-valued beyond that of any other person. Elizabeth would wonder, and
-probably would blame her; and though her resolution was not to be
-shaken, her feelings must be hurt by such a disapprobation. She resolved
-to give her the information herself; and therefore charged Mr. Collins,
-when he returned to Longbourn to dinner, to drop no hint of what had
-passed before any of the family. A promise of secrecy was of course very
-dutifully given, but it could not be kept without difficulty; for the
-curiosity excited by his long absence burst forth in such very direct
-questions on his return, as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was
-at the same time exercising great self-denial, for he was longing to
-publish his prosperous love.
-
-As he was to begin his journey too early on the morrow to see any of
-the family, the ceremony of leave-taking was performed when the ladies
-moved for the night; and Mrs. Bennet, with great politeness and
-cordiality, said how happy they should be to see him at Longbourn again,
-whenever his other engagements might allow him to visit them.
-
-“My dear madam,” he replied, “this invitation is particularly
-gratifying, because it is what I have been hoping to receive; and you
-may be very certain that I shall avail myself of it as soon as
-possible.”
-
-They were all astonished; and Mr. Bennet, who could by no means wish for
-so speedy a return, immediately said,--
-
-“But is there not danger of Lady Catherine’s disapprobation here, my
-good sir? You had better neglect your relations than run the risk of
-offending your patroness.”
-
-“My dear sir,” replied Mr. Collins, “I am particularly obliged to you
-for this friendly caution, and you may depend upon my not taking so
-material a step without her Ladyship’s concurrence.”
-
-“You cannot be too much on your guard. Risk anything rather than her
-displeasure; and if you find it likely to be raised by your coming to us
-again, which I should think exceedingly probable, stay quietly at home,
-and be satisfied that _we_ shall take no offence.”
-
-“Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly excited by such
-affectionate attention; and, depend upon it, you will speedily receive
-from me a letter of thanks for this as well as for every other mark of
-your regard during my stay in Hertfordshire. As for my fair cousins,
-though my absence may not be long enough to render it necessary, I shall
-now take the liberty of wishing them health and happiness, not excepting
-my cousin Elizabeth.”
-
-With proper civilities, the ladies then withdrew; all of them equally
-surprised to find that he meditated a quick return. Mrs. Bennet wished
-to understand by it that he thought of paying his addresses to one of
-her younger girls, and Mary might have been prevailed on to accept him.
-She rated his abilities much higher than any of the others: there was a
-solidity in his reflections which often struck her; and though by no
-means so clever as herself, she thought that, if encouraged to read and
-improve himself by such an example as hers, he might become a very
-agreeable companion. But on the following morning every hope of this
-kind was done away. Miss Lucas called soon after breakfast, and in a
-private conference with Elizabeth related the event of the day before.
-
-The possibility of Mr. Collins’s fancying himself in love with her
-friend had once occurred to Elizabeth within the last day or two: but
-that Charlotte could encourage him seemed almost as far from possibility
-as that she could encourage him herself; and her astonishment was
-consequently so great as to overcome at first the bounds of decorum, and
-she could not help crying out,--
-
-“Engaged to Mr. Collins! my dear Charlotte, impossible!”
-
-The steady countenance which Miss Lucas had commanded in telling her
-story gave way to a momentary confusion here on receiving so direct a
-reproach; though, as it was no more than she expected, she soon regained
-her composure, and calmly replied,--
-
-“Why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? Do you think it incredible
-that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman’s good opinion,
-because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?”
-
-But Elizabeth had now recollected herself; and, making a strong effort
-for it, was able to assure her, with tolerable firmness, that the
-prospect of their relationship was highly grateful to her, and that she
-wished her all imaginable happiness.
-
-“I see what you are feeling,” replied Charlotte; “you must be surprised,
-very much surprised, so lately as Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you.
-But when you have had time to think it all over, I hope you will be
-satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic, you know. I never
-was. I ask only a comfortable home; and, considering Mr. Collins’s
-character, connections, and situation in life, I am convinced that my
-chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on
-entering the marriage state.”
-
-Elizabeth quietly answered “undoubtedly;” and, after an awkward pause,
-they returned to the rest of the family. Charlotte did not stay much
-longer; and Elizabeth was then left to reflect on what she had heard. It
-was a long time before she became at all reconciled to the idea of so
-unsuitable a match. The strangeness of Mr. Collins’s making two offers
-of marriage within three days was nothing in comparison of his being now
-accepted. She had always felt that Charlotte’s opinion of matrimony was
-not exactly like her own; but she could not have supposed it possible
-that, when called into action, she would have sacrificed every better
-feeling to worldly advantage. Charlotte, the wife of Mr. Collins, was a
-most humiliating picture! And to the pang of a friend disgracing
-herself, and sunk in her esteem, was added the distressing conviction
-that it was impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot
-she had chosen.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “Protested he must be entirely mistaken.”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Elizabeth was sitting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on what
-she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorized to mention it,
-when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent by his daughter to
-announce her engagement to the family. With many compliments to them,
-and much self-gratulation on the prospect of a connection between the
-houses, he unfolded the matter,--to an audience not merely wondering,
-but incredulous; for Mrs. Bennet, with more perseverance than
-politeness, protested he must be entirely mistaken; and Lydia, always
-unguarded and often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed,--
-
-“Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not you know
-that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?”
-
-Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne
-without anger such treatment: but Sir William’s good-breeding carried
-him through it all; and though he begged leave to be positive as to the
-truth of his information, he listened to all their impertinence with the
-most forbearing courtesy.
-
-Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so unpleasant
-a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his account, by
-mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte herself; and
-endeavoured to put a stop to the exclamations of her mother and sisters,
-by the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir William, in which she
-was readily joined by Jane, and by making a variety of remarks on the
-happiness that might be expected from the match, the excellent character
-of Mr. Collins, and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London.
-
-Mrs. Bennet was, in fact, too much overpowered to say a great deal while
-Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them than her feelings
-found a rapid vent. In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving
-the whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that Mr. Collins
-had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they would never be happy
-together; and, fourthly, that the match might be broken off. Two
-inferences, however, were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that
-Elizabeth was the real cause of all the mischief; and the other, that
-she herself had been barbarously used by them all; and on these two
-points she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could
-console and nothing appease her. Nor did that day wear out her
-resentment. A week elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without
-scolding her: a month passed away before she could speak to Sir William
-or Lady Lucas without being rude; and many months were gone before she
-could at all forgive their daughter.
-
-Mr. Bennet’s emotions were much more tranquil on the occasion, and such
-as he did experience he pronounced to be of a most agreeable sort; for
-it gratified him, he said, to discover that Charlotte Lucas, whom he had
-been used to think tolerably sensible, was as foolish as his wife, and
-more foolish than his daughter!
-
-Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match: but she said
-less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their happiness;
-nor could Elizabeth persuade her to consider it as improbable. Kitty and
-Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was only a
-clergyman; and it affected them in no other way than as a piece of news
-to spread at Meryton.
-
-Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to retort on
-Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well married; and she
-called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was,
-though Mrs. Bennet’s sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have been
-enough to drive happiness away.
-
-Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint which kept them
-mutually silent on the subject; and Elizabeth felt persuaded that no
-real confidence could ever subsist between them again. Her
-disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with fonder regard to her
-sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy she was sure her opinion could
-never be shaken, and for whose happiness she grew daily more anxious, as
-Bingley had now been gone a week, and nothing was heard of his return.
-
-Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her letter, and was counting
-the days till she might reasonably hope to hear again. The promised
-letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their
-father, and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a
-twelve-month’s abode in the family might have prompted. After
-discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform them,
-with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the
-affection of their amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, and then explained
-that it was merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had
-been so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him again at
-Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight;
-for Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that
-she wished it to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would
-be an unanswerable argument with his amiable Charlotte to name an early
-day for making him the happiest of men.
-
-Mr. Collins’s return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of
-pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On the contrary, she was as much disposed to
-complain of it as her husband. It was very strange that he should come
-to Longbourn instead of to Lucas Lodge; it was also very inconvenient
-and exceedingly troublesome. She hated having visitors in the house
-while her health was so indifferent, and lovers were of all people the
-most disagreeable. Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Bennet, and they
-gave way only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley’s continued
-absence.
-
-Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject. Day after
-day passed away without bringing any other tidings of him than the
-report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to
-Netherfield the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs.
-Bennet, and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous
-falsehood.
-
-Even Elizabeth began to fear--not that Bingley was indifferent--but that
-his sisters would be successful in keeping him away. Unwilling as she
-was to admit an idea so destructive to Jane’s happiness, and so
-dishonourable to the stability of her lover, she could not prevent its
-frequently recurring. The united efforts of his two unfeeling sisters,
-and of his overpowering friend, assisted by the attractions of Miss
-Darcy and the amusements of London, might be too much, she feared, for
-the strength of his attachment.
-
-As for Jane, _her_ anxiety under this suspense was, of course, more
-painful than Elizabeth’s: but whatever she felt she was desirous of
-concealing; and between herself and Elizabeth, therefore, the subject
-was never alluded to. But as no such delicacy restrained her mother, an
-hour seldom passed in which she did not talk of Bingley, express her
-impatience for his arrival, or even require Jane to confess that if he
-did not come back she should think herself very ill-used. It needed all
-Jane’s steady mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable
-tranquillity.
-
-Mr. Collins returned most punctually on the Monday fortnight, but his
-reception at Longbourn was not quite so gracious as it had been on his
-first introduction. He was too happy, however, to need much attention;
-and, luckily for the others, the business of love-making relieved them
-from a great deal of his company. The chief of every day was spent by
-him at Lucas Lodge, and he sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time
-to make an apology for his absence before the family went to bed.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “_Whenever she spoke in a low voice_”
-]
-
-Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The very mention of
-anything concerning the match threw her into an agony of ill-humour, and
-wherever she went she was sure of hearing it talked of. The sight of
-Miss Lucas was odious to her. As her successor in that house, she
-regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte came to see
-them, she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession; and
-whenever she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, was convinced that
-they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and resolving to turn herself
-and her daughters out of the house as soon as Mr. Bennet was dead. She
-complained bitterly of all this to her husband.
-
-“Indeed, Mr. Bennet,” said she, “it is very hard to think that Charlotte
-Lucas should ever be mistress of this house, that _I_ should be forced
-to make way for _her_, and live to see her take my place in it!”
-
-“My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for
-better things. Let us flatter ourselves that _I_ may be the survivor.”
-
-This was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet; and, therefore, instead of
-making any answer, she went on as before.
-
-“I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate. If it was
-not for the entail, I should not mind it.”
-
-“What should not you mind?”
-
-“I should not mind anything at all.”
-
-“Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such
-insensibility.”
-
-“I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for anything about the entail. How
-anyone could have the conscience to entail away an estate from one’s own
-daughters I cannot understand; and all for the sake of Mr. Collins, too!
-Why should _he_ have it more than anybody else?”
-
-“I leave it to yourself to determine,” said Mr. Bennet.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIV.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Miss Bingley’s letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very first
-sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled in London for
-the winter, and concluded with her brother’s regret at not having had
-time to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he left
-the country.
-
-Hope was over, entirely over; and when Jane could attend to the rest of
-the letter, she found little, except the professed affection of the
-writer, that could give her any comfort. Miss Darcy’s praise occupied
-the chief of it. Her many attractions were again dwelt on; and Caroline
-boasted joyfully of their increasing intimacy, and ventured to predict
-the accomplishment of the wishes which had been unfolded in her former
-letter. She wrote also with great pleasure of her brother’s being an
-inmate of Mr. Darcy’s house, and mentioned with raptures some plans of
-the latter with regard to new furniture.
-
-Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief of all this,
-heard it in silent indignation. Her heart was divided between concern
-for her sister and resentment against all others. To Caroline’s
-assertion of her brother’s being partial to Miss Darcy, she paid no
-credit. That he was really fond of Jane, she doubted no more than she
-had ever done; and much as she had always been disposed to like him, she
-could not think without anger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness
-of temper, that want of proper resolution, which now made him the slave
-of his designing friends, and led him to sacrifice his own happiness to
-the caprice of their inclinations. Had his own happiness, however, been
-the only sacrifice, he might have been allowed to sport with it in
-whatever manner he thought best; but her sister’s was involved in it, as
-she thought he must be sensible himself. It was a subject, in short, on
-which reflection would be long indulged, and must be unavailing. She
-could think of nothing else; and yet, whether Bingley’s regard had
-really died away, or were suppressed by his friends’ interference;
-whether he had been aware of Jane’s attachment, or whether it had
-escaped his observation; whichever were the case, though her opinion of
-him must be materially affected by the difference, her sister’s
-situation remained the same, her peace equally wounded.
-
-A day or two passed before Jane had courage to speak of her feelings to
-Elizabeth; but at last, on Mrs. Bennet’s leaving them together, after a
-longer irritation than usual about Netherfield and its master, she could
-not help saying,--
-
-“O that my dear mother had more command over herself! she can have no
-idea of the pain she gives me by her continual reflections on him. But I
-will not repine. It cannot last long. He will be forgot, and we shall
-all be as we were before.”
-
-Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, but said
-nothing.
-
-“You doubt me,” cried Jane, slightly colouring; “indeed, you have no
-reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable man of my
-acquaintance but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and
-nothing to reproach him with. Thank God I have not _that_ pain. A little
-time, therefore--I shall certainly try to get the better----”
-
-With a stronger voice she soon added, “I have this comfort immediately,
-that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that it
-has done no harm to anyone but myself.”
-
-“My dear Jane,” exclaimed Elizabeth, “you are too good. Your sweetness
-and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know what to say to
-you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or loved you as you
-deserve.”
-
-Miss Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, and threw back
-the praise on her sister’s warm affection.
-
-“Nay,” said Elizabeth, “this is not fair. _You_ wish to think all the
-world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. _I_ only want
-to think _you_ perfect, and you set yourself against it. Do not be
-afraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching on your
-privilege of universal good-will. You need not. There are few people
-whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see
-of the world the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms
-my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the
-little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of either merit
-or sense. I have met with two instances lately: one I will not mention,
-the other is Charlotte’s marriage. It is unaccountable! in every view it
-is unaccountable!”
-
-“My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these. They will
-ruin your happiness. You do not make allowance enough for difference of
-situation and temper. Consider Mr. Collins’s respectability, and
-Charlotte’s prudent, steady character. Remember that she is one of a
-large family; that as to fortune it is a most eligible match; and be
-ready to believe, for everybody’s sake, that she may feel something like
-regard and esteem for our cousin.”
-
-“To oblige you, I would try to believe almost anything, but no one else
-could be benefited by such a belief as this; for were I persuaded that
-Charlotte had any regard for him, I should only think worse of her
-understanding than I now do of her heart. My dear Jane, Mr. Collins is a
-conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly man: you know he is, as well as
-I do; and you must feel, as well as I do, that the woman who marries him
-cannot have a proper way of thinking. You shall not defend her, though
-it is Charlotte Lucas. You shall not, for the sake of one individual,
-change the meaning of principle and integrity, nor endeavour to persuade
-yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence, and insensibility of
-danger security for happiness.”
-
-“I must think your language too strong in speaking of both,” replied
-Jane; “and I hope you will be convinced of it, by seeing them happy
-together. But enough of this. You alluded to something else. You
-mentioned _two_ instances. I cannot misunderstand you, but I entreat
-you, dear Lizzy, not to pain me by thinking _that person_ to blame, and
-saying your opinion of him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy
-ourselves intentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young man
-to be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing but
-our own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration means more than
-it does.”
-
-“And men take care that they should.”
-
-“If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; but I have no idea
-of there being so much design in the world as some persons imagine.”
-
-“I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Bingley’s conduct to design,”
-said Elizabeth; “but, without scheming to do wrong, or to make others
-unhappy, there may be error and there may be misery. Thoughtlessness,
-want of attention to other people’s feelings, and want of resolution,
-will do the business.”
-
-“And do you impute it to either of those?”
-
-“Yes; to the last. But if I go on I shall displease you by saying what I
-think of persons you esteem. Stop me, whilst you can.”
-
-“You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence him?”
-
-“Yes, in conjunction with his friend.”
-
-“I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence him? They can
-only wish his happiness; and if he is attached to me no other woman can
-secure it.”
-
-“Your first position is false. They may wish many things besides his
-happiness: they may wish his increase of wealth and consequence; they
-may wish him to marry a girl who has all the importance of money, great
-connections, and pride.”
-
-“Beyond a doubt they do wish him to choose Miss Darcy,” replied Jane;
-“but this may be from better feelings than you are supposing. They have
-known her much longer than they have known me; no wonder if they love
-her better. But, whatever may be their own wishes, it is very unlikely
-they should have opposed their brother’s. What sister would think
-herself at liberty to do it, unless there were something very
-objectionable? If they believed him attached to me they would not try to
-part us; if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such an
-affection, you make everybody acting unnaturally and wrong, and me most
-unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am not ashamed of having been
-mistaken--or, at least, it is slight, it is nothing in comparison of
-what I should feel in thinking ill of him or his sisters. Let me take it
-in the best light, in the light in which it may be understood.”
-
-Elizabeth could not oppose such a wish; and from this time Mr. Bingley’s
-name was scarcely ever mentioned between them.
-
-Mrs. Bennet still continued to wonder and repine at his returning no
-more; and though a day seldom passed in which Elizabeth did not account
-for it clearly, there seemed little chance of her ever considering it
-with less perplexity. Her daughter endeavoured to convince her of what
-she did not believe herself, that his attentions to Jane had been merely
-the effect of a common and transient liking, which ceased when he saw
-her no more; but though the probability of the statement was admitted at
-the time, she had the same story to repeat every day. Mrs. Bennet’s best
-comfort was, that Mr. Bingley must be down again in the summer.
-
-Mr. Bennet treated the matter differently. “So, Lizzy,” said he, one
-day, “your sister is crossed in love, I find. I congratulate her. Next
-to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and
-then. It is something to think of, and gives her a sort of distinction
-among her companions. When is your turn to come? You will hardly bear to
-be long outdone by Jane. Now is your time. Here are officers enough at
-Meryton to disappoint all the young ladies in the country. Let Wickham
-be your man. He is a pleasant fellow, and would jilt you creditably.”
-
-“Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. We must not
-all expect Jane’s good fortune.”
-
-“True,” said Mr. Bennet; “but it is a comfort to think that, whatever of
-that kind may befall you, you have an affectionate mother who will
-always make the most of it.”
-
-Mr. Wickham’s society was of material service in dispelling the gloom
-which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on many of the Longbourn
-family. They saw him often, and to his other recommendations was now
-added that of general unreserve. The whole of what Elizabeth had already
-heard, his claims on Mr. Darcy, and all that he had suffered from him,
-was now openly acknowledged and publicly canvassed; and everybody was
-pleased to think how much they had always disliked Mr. Darcy before they
-had known anything of the matter.
-
-Miss Bennet was the only creature who could suppose there might be any
-extenuating circumstances in the case unknown to the society of
-Hertfordshire: her mild and steady candour always pleaded for
-allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes; but by everybody else
-Mr. Darcy was condemned as the worst of men.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXV.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-After a week spent in professions of love and schemes of felicity, Mr.
-Collins was called from his amiable Charlotte by the arrival of
-Saturday. The pain of separation, however, might be alleviated on his
-side by preparations for the reception of his bride, as he had reason to
-hope, that shortly after his next return into Hertfordshire, the day
-would be fixed that was to make him the happiest of men. He took leave
-of his relations at Longbourn with as much solemnity as before; wished
-his fair cousins health and happiness again, and promised their father
-another letter of thanks.
-
-On the following Monday, Mrs. Bennet had the pleasure of receiving her
-brother and his wife, who came, as usual, to spend the Christmas at
-Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, gentlemanlike man, greatly
-superior to his sister, as well by nature as education. The Netherfield
-ladies would have had difficulty in believing that a man who lived by
-trade, and within view of his own warehouses, could have been so
-well-bred and agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger
-than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips, was an amiable, intelligent, elegant
-woman, and a great favourite with her Longbourn nieces. Between the two
-eldest and herself especially, there subsisted a very particular regard.
-They had frequently been staying with her in town.
-
-The first part of Mrs. Gardiner’s business, on her arrival, was to
-distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions. When this was
-done, she had a less active part to play. It became her turn to listen.
-Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to relate, and much to complain of. They
-had all been very ill-used since she last saw her sister. Two of her
-girls had been on the point of marriage, and after all there was nothing
-in it.
-
-“I do not blame Jane,” she continued, “for Jane would have got Mr.
-Bingley if she could. But, Lizzy! Oh, sister! it is very hard to think
-that she might have been Mr. Collins’s wife by this time, had not it
-been for her own perverseness. He made her an offer in this very room,
-and she refused him. The consequence of it is, that Lady Lucas will have
-a daughter married before I have, and that Longbourn estate is just as
-much entailed as ever. The Lucases are very artful people, indeed,
-sister. They are all for what they can get. I am sorry to say it of
-them, but so it is. It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be thwarted
-so in my own family, and to have neighbours who think of themselves
-before anybody else. However, your coming just at this time is the
-greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us of
-long sleeves.”
-
-Mrs. Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news had been given before, in
-the course of Jane and Elizabeth’s correspondence with her, made her
-sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to her nieces, turned the
-conversation.
-
-When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she spoke more on the subject.
-“It seems likely to have been a desirable match for Jane,” said she. “I
-am sorry it went off. But these things happen so often! A young man,
-such as you describe Mr. Bingley, so easily falls in love with a pretty
-girl for a few weeks, and, when accident separates them, so easily
-forgets her, that these sort of inconstancies are very frequent.”
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “Offended two or three young ladies”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-“An excellent consolation in its way,” said Elizabeth; “but it will not
-do for _us_. We do not suffer by accident. It does not often happen
-that the interference of friends will persuade a young man of
-independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he was violently in
-love with only a few days before.”
-
-“But that expression of ‘violently in love’ is so hackneyed, so
-doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me very little idea. It is as
-often applied to feelings which arise only from a half hour’s
-acquaintance, as to a real, strong attachment. Pray, how _violent was_
-Mr. Bingley’s love?”
-
-“I never saw a more promising inclination; he was growing quite
-inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by her. Every time
-they met, it was more decided and remarkable. At his own ball he
-offended two or three young ladies by not asking them to dance; and I
-spoke to him twice myself without receiving an answer. Could there be
-finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?”
-
-“Oh, yes! of that kind of love which I suppose him to have felt. Poor
-Jane! I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she may not get
-over it immediately. It had better have happened to _you_, Lizzy; you
-would have laughed yourself out of it sooner. But do you think she would
-be prevailed on to go back with us? Change of scene might be of
-service--and perhaps a little relief from home may be as useful as
-anything.”
-
-Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, and felt persuaded
-of her sister’s ready acquiescence.
-
-“I hope,” added Mrs. Gardiner, “that no consideration with regard to
-this young man will influence her. We live in so different a part of
-town, all our connections are so different, and, as you well know, we go
-out so little, that it is very improbable they should meet at all,
-unless he really comes to see her.”
-
-“And _that_ is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his
-friend, and Mr. Darcy would no more suffer him to call on Jane in such a
-part of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr. Darcy may,
-perhaps, have _heard_ of such a place as Gracechurch Street, but he
-would hardly think a month’s ablution enough to cleanse him from its
-impurities, were he once to enter it; and, depend upon it, Mr. Bingley
-never stirs without him.”
-
-“So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does not Jane
-correspond with his sister? _She_ will not be able to help calling.”
-
-“She will drop the acquaintance entirely.”
-
-But, in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place this
-point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley’s being
-withheld from seeing Jane, she felt a solicitude on the subject which
-convinced her, on examination, that she did not consider it entirely
-hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes she thought it probable, that
-his affection might be re-animated, and the influence of his friends
-successfully combated by the more natural influence of Jane’s
-attractions.
-
-Miss Bennet accepted her aunt’s invitation with pleasure; and the
-Bingleys were no otherwise in her thoughts at the same time than as she
-hoped, by Caroline’s not living in the same house with her brother, she
-might occasionally spend a morning with her, without any danger of
-seeing him.
-
-The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn; and what with the Philipses,
-the Lucases, and the officers, there was not a day without its
-engagement. Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided for the entertainment
-of her brother and sister, that they did not once sit down to a family
-dinner. When the engagement was for home, some of the officers always
-made part of it, of which officers Mr. Wickham was sure to be one; and
-on these occasions Mrs. Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Elizabeth’s
-warm commendation of him, narrowly observed them both. Without supposing
-them, from what she saw, to be very seriously in love, their preference
-of each other was plain enough to make her a little uneasy; and she
-resolved to speak to Elizabeth on the subject before she left
-Hertfordshire, and represent to her the imprudence of encouraging such
-an attachment.
-
-To Mrs. Gardiner, Wickham had one means of affording pleasure,
-unconnected with his general powers. About ten or a dozen years ago,
-before her marriage, she had spent a considerable time in that very part
-of Derbyshire to which he belonged. They had, therefore, many
-acquaintance in common; and, though Wickham had been little there since
-the death of Darcy’s father, five years before, it was yet in his power
-to give her fresher intelligence of her former friends than she had been
-in the way of procuring.
-
-Mrs. Gardiner had seen Pemberley, and known the late Mr. Darcy by
-character perfectly well. Here, consequently, was an inexhaustible
-subject of discourse. In comparing her recollection of Pemberley with
-the minute description which Wickham could give, and in bestowing her
-tribute of praise on the character of its late possessor, she was
-delighting both him and herself. On being made acquainted with the
-present Mr. Darcy’s treatment of him, she tried to remember something of
-that gentleman’s reputed disposition, when quite a lad, which might
-agree with it; and was confident, at last, that she recollected having
-heard Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy formerly spoken of as a very proud,
-ill-natured boy.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “Will you come and see me?”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVI.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Mrs. Gardiner’s caution to Elizabeth was punctually and kindly given on
-the first favourable opportunity of speaking to her alone: after
-honestly telling her what she thought, she thus went on:--
-
-“You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in love merely because you
-are warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of speaking
-openly. Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. Do not involve
-yourself, or endeavour to involve him, in an affection which the want of
-fortune would make so very imprudent. I have nothing to say against
-_him_: he is a most interesting young man; and if he had the fortune he
-ought to have, I should think you could not do better. But as it is--you
-must not let your fancy run away with you. You have sense, and we all
-expect you to use it. Your father would depend on _your_ resolution and
-good conduct, I am sure. You must not disappoint your father.”
-
-“My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed.”
-
-“Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise.”
-
-“Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care of
-myself, and of Mr. Wickham too. He shall not be in love with me, if I
-can prevent it.”
-
-“Elizabeth, you are not serious now.”
-
-“I beg your pardon. I will try again. At present I am not in love with
-Mr. Wickham; no, I certainly am not. But he is, beyond all comparison,
-the most agreeable man I ever saw--and if he becomes really attached to
-me--I believe it will be better that he should not. I see the imprudence
-of it. Oh, _that_ abominable Mr. Darcy! My father’s opinion of me does
-me the greatest honour; and I should be miserable to forfeit it. My
-father, however, is partial to Mr. Wickham. In short, my dear aunt, I
-should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy; but
-since we see, every day, that where there is affection young people are
-seldom withheld, by immediate want of fortune, from entering into
-engagements with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so many
-of my fellow-creatures, if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that
-it would be wiser to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is
-not to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his
-first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In
-short, I will do my best.”
-
-“Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so very
-often. At least you should not _remind_ your mother of inviting him.”
-
-“As I did the other day,” said Elizabeth, with a conscious smile; “very
-true, it will be wise in me to refrain from _that_. But do not imagine
-that he is always here so often. It is on your account that he has been
-so frequently invited this week. You know my mother’s ideas as to the
-necessity of constant company for her friends. But really, and upon my
-honour, I will try to do what I think to be wisest; and now I hope you
-are satisfied.”
-
-Her aunt assured her that she was; and Elizabeth, having thanked her for
-the kindness of her hints, they parted,--a wonderful instance of advice
-being given on such a point without being resented.
-
-Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had been quitted
-by the Gardiners and Jane; but, as he took up his abode with the
-Lucases, his arrival was no great inconvenience to Mrs. Bennet. His
-marriage was now fast approaching; and she was at length so far resigned
-as to think it inevitable, and even repeatedly to say, in an ill-natured
-tone, that she “_wished_ they might be happy.” Thursday was to be the
-wedding-day, and on Wednesday Miss Lucas paid her farewell visit; and
-when she rose to take leave, Elizabeth, ashamed of her mother’s
-ungracious and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected herself,
-accompanied her out of the room. As they went down stairs together,
-Charlotte said,--
-
-“I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza.”
-
-“_That_ you certainly shall.”
-
-“And I have another favour to ask. Will you come and see me?”
-
-“We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire.”
-
-“I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, therefore, to
-come to Hunsford.”
-
-Elizabeth could not refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure in the
-visit.
-
-“My father and Maria are to come to me in March,” added Charlotte, “and
-I hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will be
-as welcome to me as either of them.”
-
-The wedding took place: the bride and bridegroom set off for Kent from
-the church door, and everybody had as much to say or to hear on the
-subject as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from her friend, and their
-correspondence was as regular and frequent as it ever had been: that it
-should be equally unreserved was impossible. Elizabeth could never
-address her without feeling that all the comfort of intimacy was over;
-and, though determined not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for the
-sake of what had been rather than what was. Charlotte’s first letters
-were received with a good deal of eagerness: there could not but be
-curiosity to know how she would speak of her new home, how she would
-like Lady Catherine, and how happy she would dare pronounce herself to
-be; though, when the letters were read, Elizabeth felt that Charlotte
-expressed herself on every point exactly as she might have foreseen. She
-wrote cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing
-which she could not praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, and
-roads, were all to her taste, and Lady Catherine’s behaviour was most
-friendly and obliging. It was Mr. Collins’s picture of Hunsford and
-Rosings rationally softened; and Elizabeth perceived that she must wait
-for her own visit there, to know the rest.
-
-Jane had already written a few lines to her sister, to announce their
-safe arrival in London; and when she wrote again, Elizabeth hoped it
-would be in her power to say something of the Bingleys.
-
-Her impatience for this second letter was as well rewarded as impatience
-generally is. Jane had been a week in town, without either seeing or
-hearing from Caroline. She accounted for it, however, by supposing that
-her last letter to her friend from Longbourn had by some accident been
-lost.
-
-“My aunt,” she continued, “is going to-morrow into that part of the
-town, and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor Street.”
-
-She wrote again when the visit was paid, and she had seen Miss Bingley.
-“I did not think Caroline in spirits,” were her words, “but she was very
-glad to see me, and reproached me for giving her no notice of my coming
-to London. I was right, therefore; my last letter had never reached her.
-I inquired after their brother, of course. He was well, but so much
-engaged with Mr. Darcy that they scarcely ever saw him. I found that
-Miss Darcy was expected to dinner: I wish I could see her. My visit was
-not long, as Caroline and Mrs. Hurst were going out. I dare say I shall
-soon see them here.”
-
-Elizabeth shook her head over this letter. It convinced her that
-accident only could discover to Mr. Bingley her sister’s being in town.
-
-Four weeks passed away, and Jane saw nothing of him. She endeavoured to
-persuade herself that she did not regret it; but she could no longer be
-blind to Miss Bingley’s inattention. After waiting at home every morning
-for a fortnight, and inventing every evening a fresh excuse for her, the
-visitor did at last appear; but the shortness of her stay, and, yet
-more, the alteration of her manner, would allow Jane to deceive herself
-no longer. The letter which she wrote on this occasion to her sister
-will prove what she felt:--
-
- “My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, be incapable of triumphing in
- her better judgment, at my expense, when I confess myself to have
- been entirely deceived in Miss Bingley’s regard for me. But, my
- dear sister, though the event has proved you right, do not think me
- obstinate if I still assert that, considering what her behaviour
- was, my confidence was as natural as your suspicion. I do not at
- all comprehend her reason for wishing to be intimate with me; but,
- if the same circumstances were to happen again, I am sure I should
- be deceived again. Caroline did not return my visit till yesterday;
- and not a note, not a line, did I receive in the meantime. When she
- did come, it was very evident that she had no pleasure in it; she
- made a slight, formal apology for not calling before, said not a
- word of wishing to see me again, and was, in every respect, so
- altered a creature, that when she went away I was perfectly
- resolved to continue the acquaintance no longer. I pity, though I
- cannot help blaming, her. She was very wrong in singling me out as
- she did; I can safely say, that every advance to intimacy began on
- her side. But I pity her, because she must feel that she has been
- acting wrong, and because I am very sure that anxiety for her
- brother is the cause of it. I need not explain myself farther; and
- though _we_ know this anxiety to be quite needless, yet if she
- feels it, it will easily account for her behaviour to me; and so
- deservedly dear as he is to his sister, whatever anxiety she may
- feel on his behalf is natural and amiable. I cannot but wonder,
- however, at her having any such fears now, because if he had at all
- cared about me, we must have met long, long ago. He knows of my
- being in town, I am certain, from something she said herself; and
- yet it would seem, by her manner of talking, as if she wanted to
- persuade herself that he is really partial to Miss Darcy. I cannot
- understand it. If I were not afraid of judging harshly, I should be
- almost tempted to say, that there is a strong appearance of
- duplicity in all this. I will endeavour to banish every painful
- thought, and think only of what will make me happy, your affection,
- and the invariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me hear
- from you very soon. Miss Bingley said something of his never
- returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, but not
- with any certainty. We had better not mention it. I am extremely
- glad that you have such pleasant accounts from our friends at
- Hunsford. Pray go to see them, with Sir William and Maria. I am
- sure you will be very comfortable there.
-
-“Yours, etc.”
-
-This letter gave Elizabeth some pain; but her spirits returned, as she
-considered that Jane would no longer be duped, by the sister at least.
-All expectation from the brother was now absolutely over. She would not
-even wish for any renewal of his attentions. His character sunk on every
-review of it; and, as a punishment for him, as well as a possible
-advantage to Jane, she seriously hoped he might really soon marry Mr.
-Darcy’s sister, as, by Wickham’s account, she would make him abundantly
-regret what he had thrown away.
-
-Mrs. Gardiner about this time reminded Elizabeth of her promise
-concerning that gentleman, and required information; and Elizabeth had
-such to send as might rather give contentment to her aunt than to
-herself. His apparent partiality had subsided, his attentions were over,
-he was the admirer of some one else. Elizabeth was watchful enough to
-see it all, but she could see it and write of it without material pain.
-Her heart had been but slightly touched, and her vanity was satisfied
-with believing that _she_ would have been his only choice, had fortune
-permitted it. The sudden acquisition of ten thousand pounds was the most
-remarkable charm of the young lady to whom he was now rendering himself
-agreeable; but Elizabeth, less clear-sighted perhaps in this case than
-in Charlotte’s, did not quarrel with him for his wish of independence.
-Nothing, on the contrary, could be more natural; and, while able to
-suppose that it cost him a few struggles to relinquish her, she was
-ready to allow it a wise and desirable measure for both, and could very
-sincerely wish him happy.
-
-All this was acknowledged to Mrs. Gardiner; and, after relating the
-circumstances, she thus went on:--“I am now convinced, my dear aunt,
-that I have never been much in love; for had I really experienced that
-pure and elevating passion, I should at present detest his very name,
-and wish him all manner of evil. But my feelings are not only cordial
-towards _him_, they are even impartial towards Miss King. I cannot find
-out that I hate her at all, or that I am in the least unwilling to think
-her a very good sort of girl. There can be no love in all this. My
-watchfulness has been effectual; and though I should certainly be a more
-interesting object to all my acquaintance, were I distractedly in love
-with him, I cannot say that I regret my comparative insignificance.
-Importance may sometimes be purchased too dearly. Kitty and Lydia take
-his defection much more to heart than I do. They are young in the ways
-of the world, and not yet open to the mortifying conviction that
-handsome young men must have something to live on as well as the
-plain.”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “On the Stairs”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-With no greater events than these in the Longbourn family, and otherwise
-diversified by little beyond the walks to Meryton, sometimes dirty and
-sometimes cold, did January and February pass away. March was to take
-Elizabeth to Hunsford. She had not at first thought very seriously of
-going thither; but Charlotte, she soon found, was depending on the
-plan, and she gradually learned to consider it herself with greater
-pleasure as well as greater certainty. Absence had increased her desire
-of seeing Charlotte again, and weakened her disgust of Mr. Collins.
-There was novelty in the scheme; and as, with such a mother and such
-uncompanionable sisters, home could not be faultless, a little change
-was not unwelcome for its own sake. The journey would, moreover, give
-her a peep at Jane; and, in short, as the time drew near, she would have
-been very sorry for any delay. Everything, however, went on smoothly,
-and was finally settled according to Charlotte’s first sketch. She was
-to accompany Sir William and his second daughter. The improvement of
-spending a night in London was added in time, and the plan became as
-perfect as plan could be.
-
-The only pain was in leaving her father, who would certainly miss her,
-and who, when it came to the point, so little liked her going, that he
-told her to write to him, and almost promised to answer her letter.
-
-The farewell between herself and Mr. Wickham was perfectly friendly; on
-his side even more. His present pursuit could not make him forget that
-Elizabeth had been the first to excite and to deserve his attention, the
-first to listen and to pity, the first to be admired; and in his manner
-of bidding her adieu, wishing her every enjoyment, reminding her of what
-she was to expect in Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and trusting their
-opinion of her--their opinion of everybody--would always coincide, there
-was a solicitude, an interest, which she felt must ever attach her to
-him with a most sincere regard; and she parted from him convinced, that,
-whether married or single, he must always be her model of the amiable
-and pleasing.
-
-Her fellow-travellers the next day were not of a kind to make her think
-him less agreeable. Sir William Lucas, and his daughter Maria, a
-good-humoured girl, but as empty-headed as himself, had nothing to say
-that could be worth hearing, and were listened to with about as much
-delight as the rattle of the chaise. Elizabeth loved absurdities, but
-she had known Sir William’s too long. He could tell her nothing new of
-the wonders of his presentation and knighthood; and his civilities were
-worn out, like his information.
-
-It was a journey of only twenty-four miles, and they began it so early
-as to be in Gracechurch Street by noon. As they drove to Mr. Gardiner’s
-door, Jane was at a drawing-room window watching their arrival: when
-they entered the passage, she was there to welcome them, and Elizabeth,
-looking earnestly in her face, was pleased to see it healthful and
-lovely as ever. On the stairs were a troop of little boys and girls,
-whose eagerness for their cousin’s appearance would not allow them to
-wait in the drawing-room, and whose shyness, as they had not seen her
-for a twelvemonth, prevented their coming lower. All was joy and
-kindness. The day passed most pleasantly away; the morning in bustle and
-shopping, and the evening at one of the theatres.
-
-Elizabeth then contrived to sit by her aunt. Their first subject was her
-sister; and she was more grieved than astonished to hear, in reply to
-her minute inquiries, that though Jane always struggled to support her
-spirits, there were periods of dejection. It was reasonable, however, to
-hope that they would not continue long. Mrs. Gardiner gave her the
-particulars also of Miss Bingley’s visit in Gracechurch Street, and
-repeated conversations occurring at different times between Jane and
-herself, which proved that the former had, from her heart, given up the
-acquaintance.
-
-Mrs. Gardiner then rallied her niece on Wickham’s desertion, and
-complimented her on bearing it so well.
-
-“But, my dear Elizabeth,” she added, “what sort of girl is Miss King? I
-should be sorry to think our friend mercenary.”
-
-“Pray, my dear aunt, what is the difference in matrimonial affairs,
-between the mercenary and the prudent motive? Where does discretion end,
-and avarice begin? Last Christmas you were afraid of his marrying me,
-because it would be imprudent; and now, because he is trying to get a
-girl with only ten thousand pounds, you want to find out that he is
-mercenary.”
-
-“If you will only tell me what sort of girl Miss King is, I shall know
-what to think.”
-
-“She is a very good kind of girl, I believe. I know no harm of her.”
-
-“But he paid her not the smallest attention till her grandfather’s death
-made her mistress of this fortune?”
-
-“No--why should he? If it were not allowable for him to gain _my_
-affections, because I had no money, what occasion could there be for
-making love to a girl whom he did not care about, and who was equally
-poor?”
-
-“But there seems indelicacy in directing his attentions towards her so
-soon after this event.”
-
-“A man in distressed circumstances has not time for all those elegant
-decorums which other people may observe. If _she_ does not object to it,
-why should _we_?”
-
-“_Her_ not objecting does not justify _him_. It only shows her being
-deficient in something herself--sense or feeling.”
-
-“Well,” cried Elizabeth, “have it as you choose. _He_ shall be
-mercenary, and _she_ shall be foolish.”
-
-“No, Lizzy, that is what I do _not_ choose. I should be sorry, you know,
-to think ill of a young man who has lived so long in Derbyshire.”
-
-“Oh, if that is all, I have a very poor opinion of young men who live in
-Derbyshire; and their intimate friends who live in Hertfordshire are not
-much better. I am sick of them all. Thank heaven! I am going to-morrow
-where I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who has
-neither manners nor sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones
-worth knowing, after all.”
-
-“Take care, Lizzy; that speech savours strongly of disappointment.”
-
-Before they were separated by the conclusion of the play, she had the
-unexpected happiness of an invitation to accompany her uncle and aunt in
-a tour of pleasure which they proposed taking in the summer.
-
-“We have not quite determined how far it shall carry us,” said Mrs.
-Gardiner; “but perhaps, to the Lakes.”
-
-No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, and her
-acceptance of the invitation was most ready and grateful. “My dear, dear
-aunt,” she rapturously cried, “what delight! what felicity! You give me
-fresh life and vigour. Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What are men
-to rocks and mountains? Oh, what hours of transport we shall spend! And
-when we _do_ return, it shall not be like other travellers, without
-being able to give one accurate idea of anything. We _will_ know where
-we have gone--we _will_ recollect what we have seen. Lakes, mountains,
-and rivers, shall not be jumbled together in our imaginations; nor, when
-we attempt to describe any particular scene, will we begin quarrelling
-about its relative situation. Let _our_ first effusions be less
-insupportable than those of the generality of travellers.”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “At the door”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVIII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Every object in the next day’s journey was new and interesting to
-Elizabeth; and her spirits were in a state of enjoyment; for she had
-seen her sister looking so well as to banish all fear for her health,
-and the prospect of her northern tour was a constant source of delight.
-
-When they left the high road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye was in
-search of the Parsonage, and every turning expected to bring it in view.
-The paling of Rosings park was their boundary on one side. Elizabeth
-smiled at the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants.
-
-At length the Parsonage was discernible. The garden sloping to the
-road, the house standing in it, the green pales and the laurel hedge,
-everything declared they were arriving. Mr. Collins and Charlotte
-appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at the small gate, which
-led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and smiles of
-the whole party. In a moment they were all out of the chaise, rejoicing
-at the sight of each other. Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend with the
-liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with
-coming, when she found herself so affectionately received. She saw
-instantly that her cousin’s manners were not altered by his marriage:
-his formal civility was just what it had been; and he detained her some
-minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his inquiries after all her
-family. They were then, with no other delay than his pointing out the
-neatness of the entrance, taken into the house; and as soon as they were
-in the parlour, he welcomed them a second time, with ostentatious
-formality, to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his wife’s
-offers of refreshment.
-
-Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; and she could not help
-fancying that in displaying the good proportion of the room, its aspect,
-and its furniture, he addressed himself particularly to her, as if
-wishing to make her feel what she had lost in refusing him. But though
-everything seemed neat and comfortable, she was not able to gratify him
-by any sigh of repentance; and rather looked with wonder at her friend,
-that she could have so cheerful an air with such a companion. When Mr.
-Collins said anything of which his wife might reasonably be ashamed,
-which certainly was not seldom, she involuntarily turned her eye on
-Charlotte. Once or twice she could discern a faint blush; but in general
-Charlotte wisely did not hear. After sitting long enough to admire
-every article of furniture in the room, from the sideboard to the
-fender, to give an account of their journey, and of all that had
-happened in London, Mr. Collins invited them to take a stroll in the
-garden, which was large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of
-which he attended himself. To work in his garden was one of his most
-respectable pleasures; and Elizabeth admired the command of countenance
-with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of the exercise, and
-owned she encouraged it as much as possible. Here, leading the way
-through every walk and cross walk, and scarcely allowing them an
-interval to utter the praises he asked for, every view was pointed out
-with a minuteness which left beauty entirely behind. He could number the
-fields in every direction, and could tell how many trees there were in
-the most distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, or which
-the country or the kingdom could boast, none were to be compared with
-the prospect of Rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees that
-bordered the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It was a
-handsome modern building, well situated on rising ground.
-
-From his garden, Mr. Collins would have led them round his two meadows;
-but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter the remains of a white
-frost, turned back; and while Sir William accompanied him, Charlotte
-took her sister and friend over the house, extremely well pleased,
-probably, to have the opportunity of showing it without her husband’s
-help. It was rather small, but well built and convenient; and everything
-was fitted up and arranged with a neatness and consistency, of which
-Elizabeth gave Charlotte all the credit. When Mr. Collins could be
-forgotten, there was really a great air of comfort throughout, and by
-Charlotte’s evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed he must be often
-forgotten.
-
-She had already learnt that Lady Catherine was still in the country. It
-was spoken of again while they were at dinner, when Mr. Collins joining
-in, observed,--
-
-“Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing Lady Catherine
-de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I need not say you will
-be delighted with her. She is all affability and condescension, and I
-doubt not but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice when
-service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying that she will
-include you and my sister Maria in every invitation with which she
-honours us during your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is
-charming. We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to
-walk home. Her Ladyship’s carriage is regularly ordered for us. I
-_should_ say, one of her Ladyship’s carriages, for she has several.”
-
-“Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman, indeed,” added
-Charlotte, “and a most attentive neighbour.”
-
-“Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is the sort of
-woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference.”
-
-The evening was spent chiefly in talking over Hertfordshire news, and
-telling again what had been already written; and when it closed,
-Elizabeth, in the solitude of her chamber, had to meditate upon
-Charlotte’s degree of contentment, to understand her address in guiding,
-and composure in bearing with, her husband, and to acknowledge that it
-was all done very well. She had also to anticipate how her visit would
-pass, the quiet tenour of their usual employments, the vexatious
-interruptions of Mr. Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse
-with Rosings. A lively imagination soon settled it all.
-
-About the middle of the next day, as she was in her room getting ready
-for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to speak the whole house in
-confusion; and, after listening a moment, she heard somebody running
-upstairs in a violent hurry, and calling loudly after her. She opened
-the door, and met Maria in the landing-place, who, breathless with
-agitation, cried out,--
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “In Conversation with the ladies”
-
-[Copyright 1894 by George Allen.]]
-
-“Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come into the dining-room, for
-there is such a sight to be seen! I will not tell you what it is. Make
-haste, and come down this moment.”
-
-Elizabeth asked questions in vain; Maria would tell her nothing more;
-and down they ran into the dining-room which fronted the lane, in quest
-of this wonder; it was two ladies, stopping in a low phaeton at the
-garden gate.
-
-“And is this all?” cried Elizabeth. “I expected at least that the pigs
-were got into the garden, and here is nothing but Lady Catherine and her
-daughter!”
-
-“La! my dear,” said Maria, quite shocked at the mistake, “it is not Lady
-Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives with them. The
-other is Miss De Bourgh. Only look at her. She is quite a little
-creature. Who would have thought she could be so thin and small!”
-
-“She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors in all this wind.
-Why does she not come in?”
-
-“Oh, Charlotte says she hardly ever does. It is the greatest of favours
-when Miss De Bourgh comes in.”
-
-“I like her appearance,” said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas. “She
-looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will
-make him a very proper wife.”
-
-Mr. Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the gate in conversation
-with the ladies; and Sir William, to Elizabeth’s high diversion, was
-stationed in the doorway, in earnest contemplation of the greatness
-before him, and constantly bowing whenever Miss De Bourgh looked that
-way.
-
-At length there was nothing more to be said; the ladies drove on, and
-the others returned into the house. Mr. Collins no sooner saw the two
-girls than he began to congratulate them on their good fortune, which
-Charlotte explained by letting them know that the whole party was asked
-to dine at Rosings the next day.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- ‘Lady Catherine, said she, you have given me a treasure.’
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIX.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Mr. Collins’s triumph, in consequence of this invitation, was complete.
-The power of displaying the grandeur of his patroness to his wondering
-visitors, and of letting them see her civility towards himself and his
-wife, was exactly what he had wished for; and that an opportunity of
-doing it should be given so soon was such an instance of Lady
-Catherine’s condescension as he knew not how to admire enough.
-
-“I confess,” said he, “that I should not have been at all surprised by
-her Ladyship’s asking us on Sunday to drink tea and spend the evening
-at Rosings. I rather expected, from my knowledge of her affability, that
-it would happen. But who could have foreseen such an attention as this?
-Who could have imagined that we should receive an invitation to dine
-there (an invitation, moreover, including the whole party) so
-immediately after your arrival?”
-
-“I am the less surprised at what has happened,” replied Sir William,
-“from that knowledge of what the manners of the great really are, which
-my situation in life has allowed me to acquire. About the court, such
-instances of elegant breeding are not uncommon.”
-
-Scarcely anything was talked of the whole day or next morning but their
-visit to Rosings. Mr. Collins was carefully instructing them in what
-they were to expect, that the sight of such rooms, so many servants, and
-so splendid a dinner, might not wholly overpower them.
-
-When the ladies were separating for the toilette, he said to
-Elizabeth,--
-
-“Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your apparel. Lady
-Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of dress in us which
-becomes herself and daughter. I would advise you merely to put on
-whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest--there is no occasion
-for anything more. Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you for
-being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank
-preserved.”
-
-While they were dressing, he came two or three times to their different
-doors, to recommend their being quick, as Lady Catherine very much
-objected to be kept waiting for her dinner. Such formidable accounts of
-her Ladyship, and her manner of living, quite frightened Maria Lucas,
-who had been little used to company; and she looked forward to her
-introduction at Rosings with as much apprehension as her father had done
-to his presentation at St. James’s.
-
-As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk of about half a mile
-across the park. Every park has its beauty and its prospects; and
-Elizabeth saw much to be pleased with, though she could not be in such
-raptures as Mr. Collins expected the scene to inspire, and was but
-slightly affected by his enumeration of the windows in front of the
-house, and his relation of what the glazing altogether had originally
-cost Sir Lewis de Bourgh.
-
-When they ascended the steps to the hall, Maria’s alarm was every moment
-increasing, and even Sir William did not look perfectly calm.
-Elizabeth’s courage did not fail her. She had heard nothing of Lady
-Catherine that spoke her awful from any extraordinary talents or
-miraculous virtue, and the mere stateliness of money and rank she
-thought she could witness without trepidation.
-
-From the entrance hall, of which Mr. Collins pointed out, with a
-rapturous air, the fine proportion and finished ornaments, they followed
-the servants through an antechamber to the room where Lady Catherine,
-her daughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson were sitting. Her Ladyship, with great
-condescension, arose to receive them; and as Mrs. Collins had settled it
-with her husband that the office of introduction should be hers, it was
-performed in a proper manner, without any of those apologies and thanks
-which he would have thought necessary.
-
-In spite of having been at St. James’s, Sir William was so completely
-awed by the grandeur surrounding him, that he had but just courage
-enough to make a very low bow, and take his seat without saying a word;
-and his daughter, frightened almost out of her senses, sat on the edge
-of her chair, not knowing which way to look. Elizabeth found herself
-quite equal to the scene, and could observe the three ladies before her
-composedly. Lady Catherine was a tall, large woman, with strongly-marked
-features, which might once have been handsome. Her air was not
-conciliating, nor was her manner of receiving them such as to make her
-visitors forget their inferior rank. She was not rendered formidable by
-silence: but whatever she said was spoken in so authoritative a tone as
-marked her self-importance, and brought Mr. Wickham immediately to
-Elizabeth’s mind; and, from the observation of the day altogether, she
-believed Lady Catherine to be exactly what he had represented.
-
-When, after examining the mother, in whose countenance and deportment
-she soon found some resemblance of Mr. Darcy, she turned her eyes on the
-daughter, she could almost have joined in Maria’s astonishment at her
-being so thin and so small. There was neither in figure nor face any
-likeness between the ladies. Miss de Bourgh was pale and sickly: her
-features, though not plain, were insignificant; and she spoke very
-little, except in a low voice, to Mrs. Jenkinson, in whose appearance
-there was nothing remarkable, and who was entirely engaged in listening
-to what she said, and placing a screen in the proper direction before
-her eyes.
-
-After sitting a few minutes, they were all sent to one of the windows to
-admire the view, Mr. Collins attending them to point out its beauties,
-and Lady Catherine kindly informing them that it was much better worth
-looking at in the summer.
-
-The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were all the servants,
-and all the articles of plate which Mr. Collins had promised; and, as he
-had likewise foretold, he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by
-her Ladyship’s desire, and looked as if he felt that life could furnish
-nothing greater. He carved and ate and praised with delighted alacrity;
-and every dish was commended first by him, and then by Sir William, who
-was now enough recovered to echo whatever his son-in-law said, in a
-manner which Elizabeth wondered Lady Catherine could bear. But Lady
-Catherine seemed gratified by their excessive admiration, and gave most
-gracious smiles, especially when any dish on the table proved a novelty
-to them. The party did not supply much conversation. Elizabeth was ready
-to speak whenever there was an opening, but she was seated between
-Charlotte and Miss de Bourgh--the former of whom was engaged in
-listening to Lady Catherine, and the latter said not a word to her all
-the dinnertime. Mrs. Jenkinson was chiefly employed in watching how
-little Miss de Bourgh ate, pressing her to try some other dish and
-fearing she was indisposed. Maria thought speaking out of the question,
-and the gentlemen did nothing but eat and admire.
-
-When the ladies returned to the drawing-room, there was little to be
-done but to hear Lady Catherine talk, which she did without any
-intermission till coffee came in, delivering her opinion on every
-subject in so decisive a manner as proved that she was not used to have
-her judgment controverted. She inquired into Charlotte’s domestic
-concerns familiarly and minutely, and gave her a great deal of advice as
-to the management of them all; told her how everything ought to be
-regulated in so small a family as hers, and instructed her as to the
-care of her cows and her poultry. Elizabeth found that nothing was
-beneath this great lady’s attention which could furnish her with an
-occasion for dictating to others. In the intervals of her discourse with
-Mrs. Collins, she addressed a variety of questions to Maria and
-Elizabeth, but especially to the latter, of whose connections she knew
-the least, and who, she observed to Mrs. Collins, was a very genteel,
-pretty kind of girl. She asked her at different times how many sisters
-she had, whether they were older or younger than herself, whether any of
-them were likely to be married, whether they were handsome, where they
-had been educated, what carriage her father kept, and what had been her
-mother’s maiden name? Elizabeth felt all the impertinence of her
-questions, but answered them very composedly. Lady Catherine then
-observed,--
-
-“Your father’s estate is entailed on Mr. Collins, I think? For your
-sake,” turning to Charlotte, “I am glad of it; but otherwise I see no
-occasion for entailing estates from the female line. It was not thought
-necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s family. Do you play and sing, Miss
-Bennet?”
-
-“A little.”
-
-“Oh then--some time or other we shall be happy to hear you. Our
-instrument is a capital one, probably superior to ---- you shall try it
-some day. Do your sisters play and sing?”
-
-“One of them does.”
-
-“Why did not you all learn? You ought all to have learned. The Miss
-Webbs all play, and their father has not so good an income as yours. Do
-you draw?”
-
-“No, not at all.”
-
-“What, none of you?”
-
-“Not one.”
-
-“That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother
-should have taken you to town every spring for the benefit of masters.”
-
-“My mother would have no objection, but my father hates London.”
-
-“Has your governess left you?”
-
-“We never had any governess.”
-
-“No governess! How was that possible? Five daughters brought up at home
-without a governess! I never heard of such a thing. Your mother must
-have been quite a slave to your education.”
-
-Elizabeth could hardly help smiling, as she assured her that had not
-been the case.
-
-“Then who taught you? who attended to you? Without a governess, you must
-have been neglected.”
-
-“Compared with some families, I believe we were; but such of us as
-wished to learn never wanted the means. We were always encouraged to
-read, and had all the masters that were necessary. Those who chose to be
-idle certainly might.”
-
-“Ay, no doubt: but that is what a governess will prevent; and if I had
-known your mother, I should have advised her most strenuously to engage
-one. I always say that nothing is to be done in education without steady
-and regular instruction, and nobody but a governess can give it. It is
-wonderful how many families I have been the means of supplying in that
-way. I am always glad to get a young person well placed out. Four nieces
-of Mrs. Jenkinson are most delightfully situated through my means; and
-it was but the other day that I recommended another young person, who
-was merely accidentally mentioned to me, and the family are quite
-delighted with her. Mrs. Collins, did I tell you of Lady Metcalfe’s
-calling yesterday to thank me? She finds Miss Pope a treasure. ‘Lady
-Catherine,’ said she, ‘you have given me a treasure.’ Are any of your
-younger sisters out, Miss Bennet?”
-
-“Yes, ma’am, all.”
-
-“All! What, all five out at once? Very odd! And you only the second. The
-younger ones out before the elder are married! Your younger sisters must
-be very young?”
-
-“Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps _she_ is full young to be much
-in company. But really, ma’am, I think it would be very hard upon
-younger sisters that they should not have their share of society and
-amusement, because the elder may not have the means or inclination to
-marry early. The last born has as good a right to the pleasures of youth
-as the first. And to be kept back on _such_ a motive! I think it would
-not be very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind.”
-
-“Upon my word,” said her Ladyship, “you give your opinion very decidedly
-for so young a person. Pray, what is your age?”
-
-“With three younger sisters grown up,” replied Elizabeth, smiling, “your
-Ladyship can hardly expect me to own it.”
-
-Lady Catherine seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct answer;
-and Elizabeth suspected herself to be the first creature who had ever
-dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence.
-
-“You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure,--therefore you need not
-conceal your age.”
-
-“I am not one-and-twenty.”
-
-When the gentlemen had joined them, and tea was over, the card tables
-were placed. Lady Catherine, Sir William, and Mr. and Mrs. Collins sat
-down to quadrille; and as Miss De Bourgh chose to play at cassino, the
-two girls had the honour of assisting Mrs. Jenkinson to make up her
-party. Their table was superlatively stupid. Scarcely a syllable was
-uttered that did not relate to the game, except when Mrs. Jenkinson
-expressed her fears of Miss De Bourgh’s being too hot or too cold, or
-having too much or too little light. A great deal more passed at the
-other table. Lady Catherine was generally speaking--stating the mistakes
-of the three others, or relating some anecdote of herself. Mr. Collins
-was employed in agreeing to everything her Ladyship said, thanking her
-for every fish he won, and apologizing if he thought he won too many.
-Sir William did not say much. He was storing his memory with anecdotes
-and noble names.
-
-When Lady Catherine and her daughter had played as long as they chose,
-the tables were broken up, the carriage was offered to Mrs. Collins,
-gratefully accepted, and immediately ordered. The party then gathered
-round the fire to hear Lady Catherine determine what weather they were
-to have on the morrow. From these instructions they were summoned by the
-arrival of the coach; and with many speeches of thankfulness on Mr.
-Collins’s side, and as many bows on Sir William’s, they departed. As
-soon as they had driven from the door, Elizabeth was called on by her
-cousin to give her opinion of all that she had seen at Rosings, which,
-for Charlotte’s sake, she made more favourable than it really was. But
-her commendation, though costing her some trouble, could by no means
-satisfy Mr. Collins, and he was very soon obliged to take her Ladyship’s
-praise into his own hands.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXX.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Sir William stayed only a week at Hunsford; but his visit was long
-enough to convince him of his daughter’s being most comfortably settled,
-and of her possessing such a husband and such a neighbour as were not
-often met with. While Sir William was with them, Mr. Collins devoted his
-mornings to driving him out in his gig, and showing him the country: but
-when he went away, the whole family returned to their usual employments,
-and Elizabeth was thankful to find that they did not see more of her
-cousin by the alteration; for the chief of the time between breakfast
-and dinner was now passed by him either at work in the garden, or in
-reading and writing, and looking out of window in his own book room,
-which fronted the road. The room in which the ladies sat was backwards.
-Elizabeth at first had rather wondered that Charlotte should not prefer
-the dining parlour for common use; it was a better sized room, and had a
-pleasanter aspect: but she soon saw that her friend had an excellent
-reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been
-much less in his own apartment had they sat in one equally lively; and
-she gave Charlotte credit for the arrangement.
-
-From the drawing-room they could distinguish nothing in the lane, and
-were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of what carriages went
-along, and how often especially Miss De Bourgh drove by in her phaeton,
-which he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened
-almost every day. She not unfrequently stopped at the Parsonage, and had
-a few minutes’ conversation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever
-prevailed on to get out.
-
-Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did not walk to Rosings, and
-not many in which his wife did not think it necessary to go likewise;
-and till Elizabeth recollected that there might be other family livings
-to be disposed of, she could not understand the sacrifice of so many
-hours. Now and then they were honoured with a call from her Ladyship,
-and nothing escaped her observation that was passing in the room during
-these visits. She examined into their employments, looked at their work,
-and advised them to do it differently; found fault with the arrangement
-of the furniture, or detected the housemaid in negligence; and if she
-accepted any refreshment, seemed to do it only for the sake of finding
-out that Mrs. Collins’s joints of meat were too large for her family.
-
-Elizabeth soon perceived, that though this great lady was not in the
-commission of the peace for the county, she was a most active magistrate
-in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which were carried to her by
-Mr. Collins; and whenever any of the cottagers were disposed to be
-quarrelsome, discontented, or too poor, she sallied forth into the
-village to settle their differences, silence their complaints, and scold
-them into harmony and plenty.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “he never failed to inform them”
-]
-
-The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated about twice a week;
-and, allowing for the loss of Sir William, and there being only one
-card-table in the evening, every such entertainment was the counterpart
-of the first. Their other engagements were few, as the style of living
-of the neighbourhood in general was beyond the Collinses’ reach. This,
-however, was no evil to Elizabeth, and upon the whole she spent her time
-comfortably enough: there were half hours of pleasant conversation with
-Charlotte, and the weather was so fine for the time of year, that she
-had often great enjoyment out of doors. Her favourite walk, and where
-she frequently went while the others were calling on Lady Catherine, was
-along the open grove which edged that side of the park, where there was
-a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value but herself, and
-where she felt beyond the reach of Lady Catherine’s curiosity.
-
-In this quiet way the first fortnight of her visit soon passed away.
-Easter was approaching, and the week preceding it was to bring an
-addition to the family at Rosings, which in so small a circle must be
-important. Elizabeth had heard, soon after her arrival, that Mr. Darcy
-was expected there in the course of a few weeks; and though there were
-not many of her acquaintance whom she did not prefer, his coming would
-furnish one comparatively new to look at in their Rosings parties, and
-she might be amused in seeing how hopeless Miss Bingley’s designs on him
-were, by his behaviour to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined
-by Lady Catherine, who talked of his coming with the greatest
-satisfaction, spoke of him in terms of the highest admiration, and
-seemed almost angry to find that he had already been frequently seen by
-Miss Lucas and herself.
-
-His arrival was soon known at the Parsonage; for Mr. Collins was walking
-the whole morning within view of the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane,
-in order to have
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“The gentlemen accompanied him.”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-the earliest assurance of it; and, after making his bow as the carriage
-turned into the park, hurried home with the great intelligence. On the
-following morning he hastened to Rosings to pay his respects. There were
-two nephews of Lady Catherine to require them, for Mr. Darcy had brought
-with him a Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of his uncle, Lord ----;
-and, to the great surprise of all the party, when Mr. Collins returned,
-the gentlemen accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them from her
-husband’s room, crossing the road, and immediately running into the
-other, told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding,--
-
-“I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would
-never have come so soon to wait upon me.”
-
-Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the compliment
-before their approach was announced by the door-bell, and shortly
-afterwards the three gentlemen entered the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam,
-who led the way, was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and
-address most truly the gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had been
-used to look in Hertfordshire, paid his compliments, with his usual
-reserve, to Mrs. Collins; and whatever might be his feelings towards her
-friend, met her with every appearance of composure. Elizabeth merely
-courtesied to him, without saying a word.
-
-Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly, with the
-readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly; but
-his cousin, after having addressed a slight observation on the house and
-garden to Mrs. Collins, sat for some time without speaking to anybody.
-At length, however, his civility was so far awakened as to inquire of
-Elizabeth after the health of her family. She answered him in the usual
-way; and, after a moment’s pause, added,--
-
-“My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never
-happened to see her there?”
-
-She was perfectly sensible that he never had: but she wished to see
-whether he would betray any consciousness of what had passed between the
-Bingleys and Jane; and she thought he looked a little confused as he
-answered that he had never been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet. The
-subject was pursued no further, and the gentlemen soon afterwards went
-away.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“At Church”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXI.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners were very much admired at the Parsonage,
-and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably to the pleasure of
-their engagements at Rosings. It was some days, however, before they
-received any invitation thither, for while there were visitors in the
-house they could not be necessary; and it was not till Easter-day,
-almost a week after the gentlemen’s arrival, that they were honoured by
-such an attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to
-come there in the evening. For the last week they had seen very little
-of either Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had called
-at the Parsonage more than once during the time, but Mr. Darcy they had
-only seen at church.
-
-The invitation was accepted, of course, and at a proper hour they joined
-the party in Lady Catherine’s drawing-room. Her Ladyship received them
-civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so
-acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact,
-almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy,
-much more than to any other person in the room.
-
-Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them: anything was a
-welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins’s pretty friend had,
-moreover, caught his fancy very much. He now seated himself by her, and
-talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying
-at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so
-well entertained in that room before; and they conversed with so much
-spirit and flow as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself, as
-well as of Mr. Darcy. _His_ eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned
-towards them with a look of curiosity; and that her Ladyship, after a
-while, shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged, for she did not
-scruple to call out,--
-
-“What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking
-of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.”
-
-“We were talking of music, madam,” said he, when no longer able to avoid
-a reply.
-
-“Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I
-must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music.
-There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true
-enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever
-learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her
-health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have
-performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?”
-
-Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister’s proficiency.
-
-“I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,” said Lady
-Catherine; “and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel,
-if she does not practise a great deal.”
-
-“I assure you, madam,” he replied, “that she does not need such advice.
-She practises very constantly.”
-
-“So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write
-to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often
-tell young ladies, that no excellence in music is to be acquired without
-constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will
-never play really well, unless she practises more; and though Mrs.
-Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told
-her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs.
-Jenkinson’s room. She would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part
-of the house.”
-
-Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt’s ill-breeding, and made
-no answer.
-
-When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having
-promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to the instrument. He
-drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then
-talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter walked away from
-her, and moving with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte,
-stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer’s
-countenance. Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first
-convenient pause turned to him with an arch smile, and said,--
-
-“You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear
-me. But I will not be alarmed, though your sister _does_ play so well.
-There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at
-the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to
-intimidate me.”
-
-“I shall not say that you are mistaken,” he replied, “because you could
-not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I
-have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know, that you
-find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which, in fact,
-are not your own.”
-
-Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to
-Colonel Fitzwilliam, “Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of
-me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky
-in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a
-part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree
-of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention
-all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire--and, give me
-leave to say, very impolitic too--for it is provoking me to retaliate,
-and such things may come out as will shock your relations to hear.”
-
-“I am not afraid of you,” said he, smilingly.
-
-“Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” cried Colonel
-Fitzwilliam. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”
-
-“You shall hear, then--but prepare for something very dreadful. The
-first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at
-a ball--and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four
-dances! I am sorry to pain you, but so it was. He danced only four
-dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more
-than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy,
-you cannot deny the fact.”
-
-“I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly
-beyond my own party.”
-
-“True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well, Colonel
-Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.”
-
-“Perhaps,” said Darcy, “I should have judged better had I sought an
-introduction, but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.”
-
-“Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” said Elizabeth, still
-addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and
-education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend
-himself to strangers?”
-
-“I can answer your question,” said Fitzwilliam, “without applying to
-him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”
-
-“I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy,
-“of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot
-catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their
-concerns, as I often see done.”
-
-“My fingers,” said Elizabeth, “do not move over this instrument in the
-masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same
-force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I
-have always supposed it to be my own fault--because I would not take
-the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe _my_ fingers
-as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.”
-
-Darcy smiled and said, “You are perfectly right. You have employed your
-time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you can
-think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers.”
-
-Here they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to know
-what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began playing again.
-Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, said
-to Darcy,--
-
-“Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practised more, and
-could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion
-of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne’s. Anne would have
-been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn.”
-
-Elizabeth looked at Darcy, to see how cordially he assented to his
-cousin’s praise: but neither at that moment nor at any other could she
-discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss
-De Bourgh she derived this comfort for Miss Bingley, that he might have
-been just as likely to marry _her_, had she been his relation.
-
-Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth’s performance, mixing
-with them many instructions on execution and taste. Elizabeth received
-them with all the forbearance of civility; and at the request of the
-gentlemen remained at the instrument till her Ladyship’s carriage was
-ready to take them all home.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Jane,
-while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village,
-when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a
-visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be
-Lady Catherine; and under that apprehension was putting away her
-half-finished letter, that she might escape all impertinent questions,
-when the door opened, and to her very great surprise Mr. Darcy, and Mr.
-Darcy only, entered the room.
-
-He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologized for his
-intrusion, by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies to
-be within.
-
-They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings were made,
-seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was absolutely
-necessary, therefore, to think of something; and in this emergency
-recollecting _when_ she had seen him last in Hertfordshire, and feeling
-curious to know what he would say on the subject of their hasty
-departure, she observed,--
-
-“How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy!
-It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you
-all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day
-before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London?”
-
-“Perfectly so, I thank you.”
-
-She found that she was to receive no other answer; and, after a short
-pause, added,--
-
-“I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever
-returning to Netherfield again?”
-
-“I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may spend
-very little of his time there in future. He has many friends, and he is
-at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually
-increasing.”
-
-“If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the
-neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we
-might possibly get a settled family there. But, perhaps, Mr. Bingley did
-not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as
-for his own, and we must expect him to keep or quit it on the same
-principle.”
-
-“I should not be surprised,” said Darcy, “if he were to give it up as
-soon as any eligible purchase offers.”
-
-Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of his
-friend; and, having nothing else to say, was now determined to leave the
-trouble of finding a subject to him.
-
-He took the hint and soon began with, “This seems a very comfortable
-house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr.
-Collins first came to Hunsford.”
-
-“I believe she did--and I am sure she could not have bestowed her
-kindness on a more grateful object.”
-
-“Mr. Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife.”
-
-“Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of
-the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made
-him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding--though
-I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest
-thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however; and, in a
-prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her.”
-
-“It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy a
-distance of her own family and friends.”
-
-“An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles.”
-
-“And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day’s
-journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance.”
-
-“I should never have considered the distance as one of the _advantages_
-of the match,” cried Elizabeth. “I should never have said Mrs. Collins
-was settled _near_ her family.”
-
-“It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Anything beyond
-the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far.”
-
-As he spoke there was a sort of smile, which Elizabeth fancied she
-understood; he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane and
-Netherfield, and she blushed as she answered,--
-
-“I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her
-family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many
-varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expense of
-travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the
-case _here_. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not
-such a one as will allow of frequent journeys--and I am persuaded my
-friend would not call herself _near_ her family under less than _half_
-the present distance.”
-
-Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, “_You_ cannot
-have a right to such very strong local attachment. _You_ cannot have
-been always at Longbourn.”
-
-Elizabeth looked surprised. The gentleman experienced some change of
-feeling; he drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and,
-glancing over it, said, in a colder voice,--
-
-“Are you pleased with Kent?”
-
-A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either side
-calm and concise--and soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte
-and her sister, just returned from their walk. The _tête-à-tête_
-surprised them. Mr. Darcy related the mistake which had occasioned his
-intruding on Miss Bennet, and, after sitting a few minutes longer,
-without saying much to anybody, went away.
-
-[Illustration: “Accompanied by their aunt”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-“What can be the meaning of this?” said Charlotte, as soon as he was
-gone. “My dear Eliza, he must be in love with you, or he would never
-have called on us in this familiar way.”
-
-But when Elizabeth told of his silence, it did not seem very likely,
-even to Charlotte’s wishes, to be the case; and, after various
-conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to proceed from
-the difficulty of finding anything to do, which was the more probable
-from the time of year. All field sports were over. Within doors there
-was Lady Catherine, books, and a billiard table, but gentlemen cannot be
-always within doors; and in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the
-pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the
-two cousins found a temptation from this period of walking thither
-almost every day. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes
-separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied by their
-aunt. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he
-had pleasure in their society, a persuasion which of course recommended
-him still more; and Elizabeth was reminded by her own satisfaction in
-being with him, as well as by his evident admiration, of her former
-favourite, George Wickham; and though, in comparing them, she saw there
-was less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners, she
-believed he might have the best informed mind.
-
-But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage it was more difficult
-to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there
-ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it
-seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice--a sacrifice to
-propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He seldom appeared really
-animated. Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel
-Fitzwilliam’s occasionally laughing at his stupidity proved that he was
-generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told
-her; and as she would have liked to believe this change the effect of
-love, and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she set herself
-seriously to work to find it out: she watched him whenever they were at
-Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success. He
-certainly looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that
-look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often
-doubted whether there were much admiration in it, and sometimes it
-seemed nothing but absence of mind.
-
-She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of his
-being partial to her, but Elizabeth always laughed at the idea; and Mrs.
-Collins did not think it right to press the subject, from the danger of
-raising expectations which might only end in disappointment; for in her
-opinion it admitted not of a doubt, that all her friend’s dislike would
-vanish, if she could suppose him to be in her power.
-
-In her kind schemes for Elizabeth, she sometimes planned her marrying
-Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was, beyond comparison, the pleasantest man: he
-certainly admired her, and his situation in life was most eligible; but,
-to counterbalance these advantages, Mr. Darcy had considerable patronage
-in the church, and his cousin could have none at all.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: “On looking up”]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXIII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park,
-unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the
-mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought; and, to
-prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him, at first,
-that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time,
-therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even the third. It seemed like
-wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance; for on these occasions it was
-not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away,
-but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He
-never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking
-or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third
-encounter that he was asking some odd unconnected questions--about her
-pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her
-opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins’s happiness; and that in speaking of
-Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to
-expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying
-_there_ too. His words seemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel
-Fitzwilliam in his thoughts? She supposed, if he meant anything, he must
-mean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter. It distressed her
-a little, and she was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the
-pales opposite the Parsonage.
-
-She was engaged one day, as she walked, in re-perusing Jane’s last
-letter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane had not
-written in spirits, when, instead of being again surprised by Mr. Darcy,
-she saw, on looking up, that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her.
-Putting away the letter immediately, and forcing a smile, she said,--
-
-“I did not know before that you ever walked this way.”
-
-“I have been making the tour of the park,” he replied, “as I generally
-do every year, and intended to close it with a call at the Parsonage.
-Are you going much farther?”
-
-“No, I should have turned in a moment.”
-
-And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonage
-together.
-
-“Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?” said she.
-
-“Yes--if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. He
-arranges the business just as he pleases.”
-
-“And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least
-great pleasure in the power of choice. I do not know anybody who seems
-more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy.”
-
-“He likes to have his own way very well,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam.
-“But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it than
-many others, because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speak
-feelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and
-dependence.”
-
-“In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very little of
-either. Now, seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial and
-dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going
-wherever you chose or procuring anything you had a fancy for?”
-
-“These are home questions--and perhaps I cannot say that I have
-experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greater
-weight, I may suffer from the want of money. Younger sons cannot marry
-where they like.”
-
-“Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very often
-do.”
-
-“Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not many in
-my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to
-money.”
-
-“Is this,” thought Elizabeth, “meant for me?” and she coloured at the
-idea; but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, “And pray, what is
-the usual price of an earl’s younger son? Unless the elder brother is
-very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds.”
-
-He answered her in the same style, and the subject dropped. To interrupt
-a silence which might make him fancy her affected with what had passed,
-she soon afterwards said,--
-
-“I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of
-having somebody at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure a
-lasting convenience of that kind. But, perhaps, his sister does as well
-for the present; and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what he
-likes with her.”
-
-“No,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, “that is an advantage which he must
-divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy.”
-
-“Are you, indeed? And pray what sort of a guardian do you make? Does
-your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes
-a little difficult to manage; and if she has the true Darcy spirit, she
-may like to have her own way.”
-
-As she spoke, she observed him looking at her earnestly; and the manner
-in which he immediately asked her why she supposed Miss Darcy likely to
-give them any uneasiness, convinced her that she had somehow or other
-got pretty near the truth. She directly replied,--
-
-“You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and I dare
-say she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. She is a
-very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, Mrs. Hurst and
-Miss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that you know them.”
-
-“I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant, gentlemanlike
-man--he is a great friend of Darcy’s.”
-
-“Oh yes,” said Elizabeth drily--“Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr.
-Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.”
-
-“Care of him! Yes, I really believe Darcy _does_ take care of him in
-those points where he most wants care. From something that he told me
-in our journey hither, I have reason to think Bingley very much indebted
-to him. But I ought to beg his pardon, for I have no right to suppose
-that Bingley was the person meant. It was all conjecture.”
-
-“What is it you mean?”
-
-“It is a circumstance which Darcy of course could not wish to be
-generally known, because if it were to get round to the lady’s family it
-would be an unpleasant thing.”
-
-“You may depend upon my not mentioning it.”
-
-“And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it to be
-Bingley. What he told me was merely this: that he congratulated himself
-on having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of a most
-imprudent marriage, but without mentioning names or any other
-particulars; and I only suspected it to be Bingley from believing him
-the kind of young man to get into a scrape of that sort, and from
-knowing them to have been together the whole of last summer.”
-
-“Did Mr. Darcy give you his reasons for this interference?”
-
-“I understood that there were some very strong objections against the
-lady.”
-
-“And what arts did he use to separate them?”
-
-“He did not talk to me of his own arts,” said Fitzwilliam, smiling. “He
-only told me what I have now told you.”
-
-Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart swelling with
-indignation. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked her why she
-was so thoughtful.
-
-“I am thinking of what you have been telling me,” said she. “Your
-cousin’s conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the
-judge?”
-
-“You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?”
-
-“I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the propriety of his
-friend’s inclination; or why, upon his own judgment alone, he was to
-determine and direct in what manner that friend was to be happy. But,”
-she continued, recollecting herself, “as we know none of the
-particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed
-that there was much affection in the case.”
-
-“That is not an unnatural surmise,” said Fitzwilliam; “but it is
-lessening the honour of my cousin’s triumph very sadly.”
-
-This was spoken jestingly, but it appeared to her so just a picture of
-Mr. Darcy, that she would not trust herself with an answer; and,
-therefore, abruptly changing the conversation, talked on indifferent
-matters till they reached the Parsonage. There, shut into her own room,
-as soon as their visitor left them, she could think without interruption
-of all that she had heard. It was not to be supposed that any other
-people could be meant than those with whom she was connected. There
-could not exist in the world _two_ men over whom Mr. Darcy could have
-such boundless influence. That he had been concerned in the measures
-taken to separate Mr. Bingley and Jane, she had never doubted; but she
-had always attributed to Miss Bingley the principal design and
-arrangement of them. If his own vanity, however, did not mislead him,
-_he_ was the cause--his pride and caprice were the cause--of all that
-Jane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He had ruined for a
-while every hope of happiness for the most affectionate, generous heart
-in the world; and no one could say how lasting an evil he might have
-inflicted.
-
-“There were some very strong objections against the lady,” were Colonel
-Fitzwilliam’s words; and these strong objections probably were, her
-having one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who was in
-business in London.
-
-“To Jane herself,” she exclaimed, “there could be no possibility of
-objection,--all loveliness and goodness as she is! Her understanding
-excellent, her mind improved, and her manners captivating. Neither could
-anything be urged against my father, who, though with some
-peculiarities, has abilities which Mr. Darcy himself need not disdain,
-and respectability which he will probably never reach.” When she thought
-of her mother, indeed, her confidence gave way a little; but she would
-not allow that any objections _there_ had material weight with Mr.
-Darcy, whose pride, she was convinced, would receive a deeper wound from
-the want of importance in his friend’s connections than from their want
-of sense; and she was quite decided, at last, that he had been partly
-governed by this worst kind of pride, and partly by the wish of
-retaining Mr. Bingley for his sister.
-
-The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned brought on a
-headache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening that, added to
-her unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy, it determined her not to attend her
-cousins to Rosings, where they were engaged to drink tea. Mrs. Collins,
-seeing that she was really unwell, did not press her to go, and as much
-as possible prevented her husband from pressing her; but Mr. Collins
-could not conceal his apprehension of Lady Catherine’s being rather
-displeased by her staying at home.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXIV.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-When they were gone, Elizabeth, as if intending to exasperate herself as
-much as possible against Mr. Darcy, chose for her employment the
-examination of all the letters which Jane had written to her since her
-being in Kent. They contained no actual complaint, nor was there any
-revival of past occurrences, or any communication of present suffering.
-But in all, and in almost every line of each, there was a want of that
-cheerfulness which had been used to characterize her style, and which,
-proceeding from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself, and kindly
-disposed towards everyone, had been scarcely ever clouded. Elizabeth
-noticed every sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness, with an
-attention which it had hardly received on the first perusal. Mr. Darcy’s
-shameful boast of what misery he had been able to inflict gave her a
-keener sense of her sister’s sufferings. It was some consolation to
-think that his visit to Rosings was to end on the day after the next,
-and a still greater that in less than a fortnight she should herself be
-with Jane again, and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her
-spirits, by all that affection could do.
-
-She could not think of Darcy’s leaving Kent without remembering that his
-cousin was to go with him; but Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear
-that he had no intentions at all, and, agreeable as he was, she did not
-mean to be unhappy about him.
-
-While settling this point, she was suddenly roused by the sound of the
-door-bell; and her spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of its
-being Colonel Fitzwilliam himself, who had once before called late in
-the evening, and might now come to inquire particularly after her. But
-this idea was soon banished, and her spirits were very differently
-affected, when, to her utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the
-room. In a hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her
-health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better.
-She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and
-then getting up walked about the room. Elizabeth was surprised, but
-said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her
-in an agitated manner, and thus began:--
-
-“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be
-repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love
-you.”
-
-Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured,
-doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement,
-and the avowal of all that he felt and had long felt for her immediately
-followed. He spoke well; but there were feelings besides those of the
-heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of
-tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority, of its being a
-degradation, of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed
-to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the
-consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his
-suit.
-
-In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she could not be insensible to
-the compliment of such a man’s affection, and though her intentions did
-not vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for the pain he was to
-receive; till roused to resentment by his subsequent language, she lost
-all compassion in anger. She tried, however, to compose herself to
-answer him with patience, when he should have done. He concluded with
-representing to her the strength of that attachment which in spite of
-all his endeavours he had found impossible to conquer; and with
-expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of
-his hand. As he said this she could easily see that he had no doubt of a
-favourable answer. He _spoke_ of apprehension and anxiety, but his
-countenance expressed real security. Such a circumstance could only
-exasperate farther; and when he ceased the colour rose into her cheeks
-and she said,--
-
-“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to
-express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however
-unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be
-felt, and if I could _feel_ gratitude, I would now thank you. But I
-cannot--I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly
-bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to
-anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be
-of short duration. The feelings which you tell me have long prevented
-the acknowledgment of your regard can have little difficulty in
-overcoming it after this explanation.”
-
-Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantel-piece with his eyes fixed
-on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than
-surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of
-his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the
-appearance of composure, and would not open his lips till he believed
-himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth’s feelings
-dreadful. At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said,--
-
-“And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I
-might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little _endeavour_ at
-civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.”
-
-“I might as well inquire,” replied she, “why, with so evident a design
-of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me
-against your will, against your reason, and even against your character?
-Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I _was_ uncivil? But I have
-other provocations. You know I have. Had not my own feelings decided
-against you, had they been indifferent, or had they even been
-favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept
-the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the
-happiness of a most beloved sister?”
-
-As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy changed colour; but the emotion
-was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she
-continued,--
-
-“I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can
-excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted _there_. You dare not,
-you cannot deny that you have been the principal, if not the only means
-of dividing them from each other, of exposing one to the censure of the
-world for caprice and instability, the other to its derision for
-disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest
-kind.”
-
-She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was listening
-with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse.
-He even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity.
-
-“Can you deny that you have done it?” she repeated.
-
-With assumed tranquillity he then replied, “I have no wish of denying
-that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your
-sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards _him_ I have been
-kinder than towards myself.”
-
-Elizabeth disdained the appearance of noticing this civil reflection,
-but its meaning did not escape, nor was it likely to conciliate her.
-
-“But it is not merely this affair,” she continued, “on which my dislike
-is founded. Long before it had taken place, my opinion of you was
-decided. Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received
-many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to
-say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself?
-or under what misrepresentation can you here impose upon others?”
-
-“You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns,” said Darcy,
-in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour.
-
-“Who that knows what his misfortunes have been can help feeling an
-interest in him?”
-
-“His misfortunes!” repeated Darcy, contemptuously,--“yes, his
-misfortunes have been great indeed.”
-
-“And of your infliction,” cried Elizabeth, with energy; “You have
-reduced him to his present state of poverty--comparative poverty. You
-have withheld the advantages which you must know to have been designed
-for him. You have deprived the best years of his life of that
-independence which was no less his due than his desert. You have done
-all this! and yet you can treat the mention of his misfortunes with
-contempt and ridicule.”
-
-“And this,” cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across the room,
-“is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I
-thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this
-calculation, are heavy indeed! But, perhaps,” added he, stopping in his
-walk, and turning towards her, “these offences might have been
-overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the
-scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These
-bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater
-policy, concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my
-being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination; by reason, by
-reflection, by everything. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence.
-Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just.
-Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your
-connections?--to congratulate myself on the hope of relations whose
-condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”
-
-Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry every moment; yet she tried to
-the utmost to speak with composure when she said,--
-
-“You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your
-declaration affected me in any other way than as it spared me the
-concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a
-more gentlemanlike manner.”
-
-She saw him start at this; but he said nothing, and she continued,--
-
-“You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way
-that would have tempted me to accept it.”
-
-Again his astonishment was obvious; and he looked at her with an
-expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. She went on,--
-
-“From the very beginning, from the first moment, I may almost say, of my
-acquaintance with you, your manners impressing me with the fullest
-belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the
-feelings of others, were such as to form that groundwork of
-disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immovable a
-dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the
-last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.”
-
-“You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your
-feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been.
-Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best
-wishes for your health and happiness.”
-
-And with these words he hastily left the room, and Elizabeth heard him
-the next moment open the front door and quit the house. The tumult of
-her mind was now painfully great. She knew not how to support herself,
-and, from actual weakness, sat down and cried for half an hour. Her
-astonishment, as she reflected on what had passed, was increased by
-every review of it. That she should receive an offer of marriage from
-Mr. Darcy! that he should have been in love with her for so many months!
-so much in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections
-which had made him prevent his friend’s marrying her sister, and which
-must appear at least with equal force in his own case, was almost
-incredible! it was gratifying to have inspired unconsciously so strong
-an affection. But his pride, his abominable pride, his shameless avowal
-of what he had done with respect to Jane, his unpardonable assurance in
-acknowledging, though he could not justify it, and the unfeeling manner
-which he had mentioned Mr. Wickham, his cruelty towards whom he had not
-attempted to deny, soon overcame the pity which the consideration of his
-attachment had for a moment excited.
-
-She continued in very agitating reflections till the sound of Lady
-Catherine’s carriage made her feel how unequal she was to encounter
-Charlotte’s observation, and hurried her away to her room.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“Hearing herself called”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXV.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations
-which had at length closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from the
-surprise of what had happened: it was impossible to think of anything
-else; and, totally indisposed for employment, she resolved soon after
-breakfast to indulge herself in air and exercise. She was proceeding
-directly to her favourite walk, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy’s
-sometimes coming there stopped her, and instead of entering the park,
-she turned up the lane which led her farther from the turnpike road. The
-park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she soon passed one
-of the gates into the ground.
-
-After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, she was
-tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at the gates and
-look into the park. The five weeks which she had now passed in Kent had
-made a great difference in the country, and every day was adding to the
-verdure of the early trees. She was on the point of continuing her
-walk, when she caught a glimpse of a gentleman within the sort of grove
-which edged the park: he was moving that way; and fearful of its being
-Mr. Darcy, she was directly retreating. But the person who advanced was
-now near enough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness,
-pronounced her name. She had turned away; but on hearing herself called,
-though in a voice which proved it to be Mr. Darcy, she moved again
-towards the gate. He had by that time reached it also; and, holding out
-a letter, which she instinctively took, said, with a look of haughty
-composure, “I have been walking in the grove some time, in the hope of
-meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?” and
-then, with a slight bow, turned again into the plantation, and was soon
-out of sight.
-
-With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity,
-Elizabeth opened the letter, and to her still increasing wonder,
-perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter paper, written
-quite through, in a very close hand. The envelope itself was likewise
-full. Pursuing her way along the lane, she then began it. It was dated
-from Rosings, at eight o’clock in the morning, and was as follows:--
-
-“Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of
-its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those
-offers, which were last night so disgusting to you. I write without any
-intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes,
-which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten; and the
-effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion,
-should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written
-and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand
-your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I
-demand it of your justice.
-
-“Two offences of a very different nature, and by no means of equal
-magnitude, you last night laid to my charge. The first mentioned was,
-that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had detached Mr. Bingley
-from your sister,--and the other, that I had, in defiance of various
-claims, in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the immediate
-prosperity and blasted the prospects of Mr. Wickham. Wilfully and
-wantonly to have thrown off the companion of my youth, the acknowledged
-favourite of my father, a young man who had scarcely any other
-dependence than on our patronage, and who had been brought up to expect
-its exertion, would be a depravity, to which the separation of two young
-persons whose affection could be the growth of only a few weeks, could
-bear no comparison. But from the severity of that blame which was last
-night so liberally bestowed, respecting each circumstance, I shall hope
-to be in future secured, when the following account of my actions and
-their motives has been read. If, in the explanation of them which is due
-to myself, I am under the necessity of relating feelings which may be
-offensive to yours, I can only say that I am sorry. The necessity must
-be obeyed, and further apology would be absurd. I had not been long in
-Hertfordshire before I saw, in common with others, that Bingley
-preferred your elder sister to any other young woman in the country. But
-it was not till the evening of the dance at Netherfield that I had any
-apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment. I had often seen him
-in love before. At that ball, while I had the honour of dancing with
-you, I was first made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas’s accidental
-information, that Bingley’s attentions to your sister had given rise to
-a general expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it as a certain
-event, of which the time alone could be undecided. From that moment I
-observed my friend’s behaviour attentively; and I could then perceive
-that his partiality for Miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed
-in him. Your sister I also watched. Her look and manners were open,
-cheerful, and engaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar
-regard; and I remained convinced, from the evening’s scrutiny, that
-though she received his attentions with pleasure, she did not invite
-them by any participation of sentiment. If _you_ have not been mistaken
-here, _I_ must have been in an error. Your superior knowledge of your
-sister must make the latter probable. If it be so, if I have been misled
-by such error to inflict pain on her, your resentment has not been
-unreasonable. But I shall not scruple to assert, that the serenity of
-your sister’s countenance and air was such as might have given the most
-acute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart
-was not likely to be easily touched. That I was desirous of believing
-her indifferent is certain; but I will venture to say that my
-investigations and decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or
-fears. I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; I
-believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason.
-My objections to the marriage were not merely those which I last night
-acknowledged to have required the utmost force of passion to put aside
-in my own case; the want of connection could not be so great an evil to
-my friend as to me. But there were other causes of repugnance; causes
-which, though still existing, and existing to an equal degree in both
-instances, I had myself endeavoured to forget, because they were not
-immediately before me. These causes must be stated, though briefly. The
-situation of your mother’s family, though objectionable, was nothing in
-comparison of that total want of propriety so frequently, so almost
-uniformly betrayed by herself, by your three younger sisters, and
-occasionally even by your father:--pardon me,--it pains me to offend
-you. But amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations,
-and your displeasure at this representation of them, let it give you
-consolation to consider that to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid
-any share of the like censure is praise no less generally bestowed on
-you and your eldest sister than it is honourable to the sense and
-disposition of both. I will only say, farther, that from what passed
-that evening my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every
-inducement heightened, which could have led me before to preserve my
-friend from what I esteemed a most unhappy connection. He left
-Netherfield for London on the day following, as you, I am certain,
-remember, with the design of soon returning. The part which I acted is
-now to be explained. His sisters’ uneasiness had been equally excited
-with my own: our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered; and, alike
-sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we
-shortly resolved on joining him directly in London. We accordingly
-went--and there I readily engaged in the office of pointing out to my
-friend the certain evils of such a choice. I described and enforced them
-earnestly. But however this remonstrance might have staggered or delayed
-his determination, I do not suppose that it would ultimately have
-prevented the marriage, had it not been seconded by the assurance, which
-I hesitated not in giving, of your sister’s indifference. He had before
-believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal,
-regard. But Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger
-dependence on my judgment than on his own. To convince him, therefore,
-that he had deceived himself was no very difficult point. To persuade
-him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been
-given, was scarcely the work of a moment. I cannot blame myself for
-having done thus much. There is but one part of my conduct, in the whole
-affair, on which I do not reflect with satisfaction; it is that I
-condescended to adopt the measures of art so far as to conceal from him
-your sister’s being in town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss
-Bingley; but her brother is even yet ignorant of it. That they might
-have met without ill consequence is, perhaps, probable; but his regard
-did not appear to me enough extinguished for him to see her without some
-danger. Perhaps this concealment, this disguise, was beneath me. It is
-done, however, and it was done for the best. On this subject I have
-nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I have wounded your
-sister’s feelings, it was unknowingly done; and though the motives which
-governed me may to you very naturally appear insufficient, I have not
-yet learnt to condemn them.--With respect to that other, more weighty
-accusation, of having injured Mr. Wickham, I can only refute it by
-laying before you the whole of his connection with my family. Of what he
-has _particularly_ accused me I am ignorant; but of the truth of what I
-shall relate I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity.
-Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years
-the management of all the Pemberley estates, and whose good conduct in
-the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service
-to him; and on George Wickham, who was his godson, his kindness was
-therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and
-afterwards at Cambridge; most important assistance, as his own father,
-always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to
-give him a gentleman’s education. My father was not only fond of this
-young man’s society, whose manners were always engaging, he had also the
-highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession,
-intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years
-since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The
-vicious propensities, the want of principle, which he was careful to
-guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the
-observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who
-had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy
-could not have. Here again I shall give you pain--to what degree you
-only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has
-created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding
-his real character. It adds even another motive. My excellent father
-died about five years ago; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the
-last so steady, that in his will he particularly recommended it to me to
-promote his advancement in the best manner that his profession might
-allow, and if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living
-might be his as soon as it became vacant. There was also a legacy of
-one thousand pounds. His own father did not long survive mine; and
-within half a year from these events Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me
-that, having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should
-not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate
-pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment, by which he could not be
-benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying the law, and I
-must be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds would be a very
-insufficient support therein. I rather wished than believed him to be
-sincere; but, at any rate, was perfectly ready to accede to his
-proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman. The
-business was therefore soon settled. He resigned all claim to assistance
-in the church, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to
-receive it, and accepted in return three thousand pounds. All connection
-between us seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him to invite him
-to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town, I believe, he
-chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a mere pretence; and being
-now free from all restraint, his life was a life of idleness and
-dissipation. For about three years I heard little of him; but on the
-decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him,
-he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. His
-circumstances, he assured me, and I had no difficulty in believing it,
-were exceedingly bad. He had found the law a most unprofitable study,
-and was now absolutely resolved on being ordained, if I would present
-him to the living in question--of which he trusted there could be little
-doubt, as he was well assured that I had no other person to provide for,
-and I could not have forgotten my revered father’s intentions. You will
-hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or for
-resisting every repetition of it. His resentment was in proportion to
-the distress of his circumstances--and he was doubtless as violent in
-his abuse of me to others as in his reproaches to myself. After this
-period, every appearance of acquaintance was dropped. How he lived, I
-know not. But last summer he was again most painfully obtruded on my
-notice. I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget
-myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me
-to unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of
-your secrecy. My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left
-to the guardianship of my mother’s nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and
-myself. About a year ago, she was taken from school, and an
-establishment formed for her in London; and last summer she went with
-the lady who presided over it to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr.
-Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior
-acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were
-most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and aid he so far
-recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a
-strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was
-persuaded to believe herself in love and to consent to an elopement. She
-was then but fifteen, which must be her excuse; and after stating her
-imprudence, I am happy to add, that I owed the knowledge of it to
-herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended
-elopement; and then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving
-and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father,
-acknowledged the whole to me. You may imagine what I felt and how I
-acted. Regard for my sister’s credit and feelings prevented any public
-exposure; but I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately,
-and Mrs. Younge was of course removed from her charge. Mr. Wickham’s
-chief object was unquestionably my sister’s fortune, which is thirty
-thousand pounds; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging
-himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been
-complete indeed. This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in
-which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely
-reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty
-towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of
-falsehood, he has imposed on you; but his success is not perhaps to be
-wondered at, ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning
-either. Detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly
-not in your inclination. You may possibly wonder why all this was not
-told you last night. But I was not then master enough of myself to know
-what could or ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything here
-related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel
-Fitzwilliam, who, from our near relationship and constant intimacy, and
-still more as one of the executors of my father’s will, has been
-unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. If
-your abhorrence of _me_ should make _my_ assertions valueless, you
-cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and
-that there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavour
-to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the
-course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you.
-
-“FITZWILLIAM DARCY.”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXVI.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Elizabeth, when Mr. Darcy gave her the letter, did not expect it to
-contain a renewal of his offers, she had formed no expectation at all of
-its contents. But such as they were, it may be well supposed how eagerly
-she went through them, and what a contrariety of emotion they excited.
-Her feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined. With amazement did
-she first understand that he believed any apology to be in his power;
-and steadfastly was she persuaded, that he could have no explanation to
-give, which a just sense of shame would not conceal. With a strong
-prejudice against everything he might say, she began his account of
-what had happened at Netherfield. She read with an eagerness which
-hardly left her power of comprehension; and from impatience of knowing
-what the next sentence might bring, was incapable of attending to the
-sense of the one before her eyes. His belief of her sister’s
-insensibility she instantly resolved to be false; and his account of the
-real, the worst objections to the match, made her too angry to have any
-wish of doing him justice. He expressed no regret for what he had done
-which satisfied her; his style was not penitent, but haughty. It was all
-pride and insolence.
-
-But when this subject was succeeded by his account of Mr. Wickham--when
-she read, with somewhat clearer attention, a relation of events which,
-if true, must overthrow every cherished opinion of his worth, and which
-bore so alarming an affinity to his own history of himself--her feelings
-were yet more acutely painful and more difficult of definition.
-Astonishment, apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished
-to discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, “This must be false!
-This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!”--and when she had
-gone through the whole letter, though scarcely knowing anything of the
-last page or two, put it hastily away, protesting that she would not
-regard it, that she would never look in it again.
-
-In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest on
-nothing, she walked on; but it would not do: in half a minute the letter
-was unfolded again; and collecting herself as well as she could, she
-again began the mortifying perusal of all that related to Wickham, and
-commanded herself so far as to examine the meaning of every sentence.
-The account of his connection with the Pemberley family was exactly
-what he had related himself; and the kindness of the late Mr. Darcy,
-though she had not before known its extent, agreed equally well with his
-own words. So far each recital confirmed the other; but when she came to
-the will, the difference was great. What Wickham had said of the living
-was fresh in her memory; and as she recalled his very words, it was
-impossible not to feel that there was gross duplicity on one side or the
-other, and, for a few moments, she flattered herself that her wishes did
-not err. But when she read and re-read, with the closest attention, the
-particulars immediately following of Wickham’s resigning all pretensions
-to the living, of his receiving in lieu so considerable a sum as three
-thousand pounds, again was she forced to hesitate. She put down the
-letter, weighed every circumstance with what she meant to be
-impartiality--deliberated on the probability of each statement--but with
-little success. On both sides it was only assertion. Again she read on.
-But every line proved more clearly that the affair, which she had
-believed it impossible that any contrivance could so represent as to
-render Mr. Darcy’s conduct in it less than infamous, was capable of a
-turn which must make him entirely blameless throughout the whole.
-
-The extravagance and general profligacy which he scrupled not to lay to
-Mr. Wickham’s charge exceedingly shocked her; the more so, as she could
-bring no proof of its injustice. She had never heard of him before his
-entrance into the ----shire militia, in which he had engaged at the
-persuasion of the young man, who, on meeting him accidentally in town,
-had there renewed a slight acquaintance. Of his former way of life,
-nothing had been known in Hertfordshire but what he told
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “Meeting accidentally in Town”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-himself. As to his real character, had information been in her power,
-she had never felt a wish of inquiring. His countenance, voice, and
-manner, had established him at once in the possession of every virtue.
-She tried to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished
-trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the
-attacks of Mr. Darcy; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone
-for those casual errors, under which she would endeavour to class what
-Mr. Darcy had described as the idleness and vice of many years’
-continuance. But no such recollection befriended her. She could see him
-instantly before her, in every charm of air and address, but she could
-remember no more substantial good than the general approbation of the
-neighbourhood, and the regard which his social powers had gained him in
-the mess. After pausing on this point a considerable while, she once
-more continued to read. But, alas! the story which followed, of his
-designs on Miss Darcy, received some confirmation from what had passed
-between Colonel Fitzwilliam and herself only the morning before; and at
-last she was referred for the truth of every particular to Colonel
-Fitzwilliam himself--from whom she had previously received the
-information of his near concern in all his cousin’s affairs and whose
-character she had no reason to question. At one time she had almost
-resolved on applying to him, but the idea was checked by the awkwardness
-of the application, and at length wholly banished by the conviction that
-Mr. Darcy would never have hazarded such a proposal, if he had not been
-well assured of his cousin’s corroboration.
-
-She perfectly remembered everything that had passed in conversation
-between Wickham and herself in their first evening at Mr. Philips’s.
-Many of his expressions were still fresh in her memory. She was _now_
-struck with the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, and
-wondered it had escaped her before. She saw the indelicacy of putting
-himself forward as he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions
-with his conduct. She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear
-of seeing Mr. Darcy--that Mr. Darcy might leave the country, but that
-_he_ should stand his ground; yet he had avoided the Netherfield ball
-the very next week. She remembered, also, that till the Netherfield
-family had quitted the country, he had told his story to no one but
-herself; but that after their removal, it had been everywhere discussed;
-that he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinking Mr. Darcy’s
-character, though he had assured her that respect for the father would
-always prevent his exposing the son.
-
-How differently did everything now appear in which he was concerned! His
-attentions to Miss King were now the consequence of views solely and
-hatefully mercenary; and the mediocrity of her fortune proved no longer
-the moderation of his wishes, but his eagerness to grasp at anything.
-His behaviour to herself could now have had no tolerable motive: he had
-either been deceived with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying
-his vanity by encouraging the preference which she believed she had most
-incautiously shown. Every lingering struggle in his favour grew fainter
-and fainter; and in further justification of Mr. Darcy, she could not
-but allow that Mr. Bingley, when questioned by Jane, had long ago
-asserted his blamelessness in the affair;--that, proud and repulsive as
-were his manners, she had never, in the whole course of their
-acquaintance--an acquaintance which had latterly brought them much
-together, and given her a sort of intimacy with his ways--seen anything
-that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust--anything that spoke him
-of irreligious or immoral habits;--that among his own connections he was
-esteemed and valued;--that even Wickham had allowed him merit as a
-brother, and that she had often heard him speak so affectionately of his
-sister as to prove him capable of some amiable feeling;--that had his
-actions been what Wickham represented them, so gross a violation of
-everything right could hardly have been concealed from the world; and
-that friendship between a person capable of it and such an amiable man
-as Mr. Bingley was incomprehensible.
-
-She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham
-could she think, without feeling that she had been blind, partial,
-prejudiced, absurd.
-
-“How despicably have I acted!” she cried. “I, who have prided myself on
-my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! who have
-often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my
-vanity in useless or blameless distrust. How humiliating is this
-discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I could not
-have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my
-folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect
-of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted
-prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away where either were
-concerned. Till this moment, I never knew myself.”
-
-From herself to Jane, from Jane to Bingley, her thoughts were in a line
-which soon brought to her recollection that Mr. Darcy’s explanation
-_there_ had appeared very insufficient; and she read it again. Widely
-different was the effect of a second perusal. How could she deny that
-credit to his assertions, in one instance, which she had been obliged to
-give in the other? He declared himself to have been totally unsuspicious
-of her sister’s attachment; and she could not help remembering what
-Charlotte’s opinion had always been. Neither could she deny the justice
-of his description of Jane. She felt that Jane’s feelings, though
-fervent, were little displayed, and that there was a constant
-complacency in her air and manner, not often united with great
-sensibility.
-
-When she came to that part of the letter in which her family were
-mentioned, in tones of such mortifying, yet merited, reproach, her sense
-of shame was severe. The justice of the charge struck her too forcibly
-for denial; and the circumstances to which he particularly alluded, as
-having passed at the Netherfield ball, and as confirming all his first
-disapprobation, could not have made a stronger impression on his mind
-than on hers.
-
-The compliment to herself and her sister was not unfelt. It soothed, but
-it could not console her for the contempt which had been thus
-self-attracted by the rest of her family; and as she considered that
-Jane’s disappointment had, in fact, been the work of her nearest
-relations, and reflected how materially the credit of both must be hurt
-by such impropriety of conduct, she felt depressed beyond anything she
-had ever known before.
-
-After wandering along the lane for two hours, giving way to every
-variety of thought, reconsidering events, determining probabilities, and
-reconciling herself, as well as she could, to a change so sudden and so
-important, fatigue, and a recollection of her long absence, made her at
-length return home; and she entered the house with the wish of appearing
-cheerful as usual, and the resolution of repressing such reflections as
-must make her unfit for conversation.
-
-She was immediately told, that the two gentlemen from Rosings had each
-called during her absence; Mr. Darcy, only for a few minutes, to take
-leave, but that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been sitting with them at least
-an hour, hoping for her return, and almost resolving to walk after her
-till she could be found. Elizabeth could but just _affect_ concern in
-missing him; she really rejoiced at it. Colonel Fitzwilliam was no
-longer an object. She could think only of her letter.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“His parting obeisance”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXVII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning; and Mr. Collins having
-been in waiting near the lodges, to make them his parting obeisance, was
-able to bring home the pleasing intelligence of their appearing in very
-good health, and in as tolerable spirits as could be expected, after the
-melancholy scene so lately gone through at Rosings. To Rosings he then
-hastened to console Lady Catherine and her daughter; and on his return
-brought back, with great satisfaction, a message from her Ladyship,
-importing that she felt herself so dull as to make her very desirous of
-having them all to dine with her.
-
-Elizabeth could not see Lady Catherine without recollecting that, had
-she chosen it, she might by this time have been presented to her as her
-future niece; nor could she think, without a smile, of what her
-Ladyship’s indignation would have been. “What would she have said? how
-would she have behaved?” were the questions with which she amused
-herself.
-
-Their first subject was the diminution of the Rosings’ party. “I assure
-you, I feel it exceedingly,” said Lady Catherine; “I believe nobody
-feels the loss of friends so much as I do. But I am particularly
-attached to these young men; and know them to be so much attached to me!
-They were excessively sorry to go! But so they always are. The dear
-Colonel rallied his spirits tolerably till just at last; but Darcy
-seemed to feel it most acutely--more, I think, than last year. His
-attachment to Rosings certainly increases.”
-
-Mr. Collins had a compliment and an allusion to throw in here, which
-were kindly smiled on by the mother and daughter.
-
-Lady Catherine observed, after dinner, that Miss Bennet seemed out of
-spirits; and immediately accounting for it herself, by supposing that
-she did not like to go home again so soon, she added,--
-
-“But if that is the case, you must write to your mother to beg that you
-may stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad of your
-company, I am sure.”
-
-“I am much obliged to your Ladyship for your kind invitation,” replied
-Elizabeth; “but it is not in my power to accept it. I must be in town
-next Saturday.”
-
-“Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six weeks. I expected
-you to stay two months. I told Mrs. Collins so before you came. There
-can be no occasion for your going so soon. Mrs. Bennet could certainly
-spare you for another fortnight.”
-
-“But my father cannot. He wrote last week to hurry my return.”
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“Dawson”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-“Oh, your father, of course, may spare you, if your mother can.
-Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father. And if you will
-stay another _month_ complete, it will be in my power to take one of you
-as far as London, for I am going there early in June, for a week; and
-as Dawson does not object to the barouche-box, there will be very good
-room for one of you--and, indeed, if the weather should happen to be
-cool, I should not object to taking you both, as you are neither of you
-large.”
-
-“You are all kindness, madam; but I believe we must abide by our
-original plan.”
-
-Lady Catherine seemed resigned. “Mrs. Collins, you must send a servant
-with them. You know I always speak my mind, and I cannot bear the idea
-of two young women travelling post by themselves. It is highly improper.
-You must contrive to send somebody. I have the greatest dislike in the
-world to that sort of thing. Young women should always be properly
-guarded and attended, according to their situation in life. When my
-niece Georgiana went to Ramsgate last summer, I made a point of her
-having two men-servants go with her. Miss Darcy, the daughter of Mr.
-Darcy of Pemberley, and Lady Anne, could not have appeared with
-propriety in a different manner. I am excessively attentive to all those
-things. You must send John with the young ladies, Mrs. Collins. I am
-glad it occurred to me to mention it; for it would really be
-discreditable to _you_ to let them go alone.”
-
-“My uncle is to send a servant for us.”
-
-“Oh! Your uncle! He keeps a man-servant, does he? I am very glad you
-have somebody who thinks of those things. Where shall you change horses?
-Oh, Bromley, of course. If you mention my name at the Bell, you will be
-attended to.”
-
-Lady Catherine had many other questions to ask respecting their journey;
-and as she did not answer them all herself attention was
-necessary--which Elizabeth believed to be lucky for her; or, with a
-mind so occupied, she might have forgotten where she was. Reflection
-must be reserved for solitary hours: whenever she was alone, she gave
-way to it as the greatest relief; and not a day went by without a
-solitary walk, in which she might indulge in all the delight of
-unpleasant recollections.
-
-Mr. Darcy’s letter she was in a fair way of soon knowing by heart. She
-studied every sentence; and her feelings towards its writer were at
-times widely different. When she remembered the style of his address,
-she was still full of indignation: but when she considered how unjustly
-she had condemned and upbraided him, her anger was turned against
-herself; and his disappointed feelings became the object of compassion.
-His attachment excited gratitude, his general character respect: but she
-could not approve him; nor could she for a moment repent her refusal, or
-feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again. In her own past
-behaviour, there was a constant source of vexation and regret: and in
-the unhappy defects of her family, a subject of yet heavier chagrin.
-They were hopeless of remedy. Her father, contented with laughing at
-them, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his
-youngest daughters; and her mother, with manners so far from right
-herself, was entirely insensible of the evil. Elizabeth had frequently
-united with Jane in an endeavour to check the imprudence of Catherine
-and Lydia; but while they were supported by their mother’s indulgence,
-what chance could there be of improvement? Catherine, weak-spirited,
-irritable, and completely under Lydia’s guidance, had been always
-affronted by their advice; and Lydia, self-willed and careless, would
-scarcely give them a hearing. They were ignorant, idle, and vain. While
-there was an officer in Meryton, they would flirt with him; and while
-Meryton was within a walk of Longbourn, they would be going there for
-ever.
-
-Anxiety on Jane’s behalf was another prevailing concern; and Mr. Darcy’s
-explanation, by restoring Bingley to all her former good opinion,
-heightened the sense of what Jane had lost. His affection was proved to
-have been sincere, and his conduct cleared of all blame, unless any
-could attach to the implicitness of his confidence in his friend. How
-grievous then was the thought that, of a situation so desirable in every
-respect, so replete with advantage, so promising for happiness, Jane had
-been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family!
-
-When to these recollections was added the development of Wickham’s
-character, it may be easily believed that the happy spirits which had
-seldom been depressed before were now so much affected as to make it
-almost impossible for her to appear tolerably cheerful.
-
-Their engagements at Rosings were as frequent during the last week of
-her stay as they had been at first. The very last evening was spent
-there; and her Ladyship again inquired minutely into the particulars of
-their journey, gave them directions as to the best method of packing,
-and was so urgent on the necessity of placing gowns in the only right
-way, that Maria thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all the
-work of the morning, and pack her trunk afresh.
-
-When they parted, Lady Catherine, with great condescension, wished them
-a good journey, and invited them to come to Hunsford again next year;
-and Miss de Bourgh exerted herself so far as to courtesy and hold out
-her hand to both.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“The elevation of his feelings.”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXVIII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-On Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins met for breakfast a few
-minutes before the others appeared; and he took the opportunity of
-paying the parting civilities which he deemed indispensably necessary.
-
-“I know not, Miss Elizabeth,” said he, “whether Mrs. Collins has yet
-expressed her sense of your kindness in coming to us; but I am very
-certain you will not leave the house without receiving her thanks for
-it. The favour of your company has been much felt, I assure you. We know
-how little there is to tempt anyone to our humble abode. Our plain
-manner of living, our small rooms, and few domestics, and the little we
-see of the world, must make Hunsford extremely dull to a young lady like
-yourself; but I hope you will believe us grateful for the condescension,
-and that we have done everything in our power to prevent you spending
-your time unpleasantly.”
-
-Elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assurances of happiness. She had
-spent six weeks with great enjoyment; and the pleasure of being with
-Charlotte, and the kind attention she had received, must make _her_ feel
-the obliged. Mr. Collins was gratified; and with a more smiling
-solemnity replied,--
-
-“It gives me the greatest pleasure to hear that you have passed your
-time not disagreeably. We have certainly done our best; and most
-fortunately having it in our power to introduce you to very superior
-society, and from our connection with Rosings, the frequent means of
-varying the humble home scene, I think we may flatter ourselves that
-your Hunsford visit cannot have been entirely irksome. Our situation
-with regard to Lady Catherine’s family is, indeed, the sort of
-extraordinary advantage and blessing which few can boast. You see on
-what a footing we are. You see how continually we are engaged there. In
-truth, I must acknowledge, that, with all the disadvantages of this
-humble parsonage, I should not think anyone abiding in it an object of
-compassion, while they are sharers of our intimacy at Rosings.”
-
-Words were insufficient for the elevation of his feelings; and he was
-obliged to walk about the room, while Elizabeth tried to unite civility
-and truth in a few short sentences.
-
-“You may, in fact, carry a very favourable report of us into
-Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself, at least, that you will
-be able to do so. Lady Catherine’s great attentions to Mrs. Collins you
-have been a daily witness of; and altogether I trust it does not appear
-that your friend has drawn an unfortunate--but on this point it will be
-as well to be silent. Only let me assure you, my dear Miss Elizabeth,
-that I can from my heart most cordially wish you equal felicity in
-marriage. My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of
-thinking. There is in everything a most remarkable resemblance of
-character and ideas between us. We seem to have been designed for each
-other.”
-
-Elizabeth could safely say that it was a great happiness where that was
-the case, and with equal sincerity could add, that she firmly believed
-and rejoiced in his domestic comforts. She was not sorry, however, to
-have the recital of them interrupted by the entrance of the lady from
-whom they sprang. Poor Charlotte! it was melancholy to leave her to such
-society! But she had chosen it with her eyes open; and though evidently
-regretting that her visitors were to go, she did not seem to ask for
-compassion. Her home and her housekeeping, her parish and her poultry,
-and all their dependent concerns, had not yet lost their charms.
-
-At length the chaise arrived, the trunks were fastened on, the parcels
-placed within, and it was pronounced to be ready. After an affectionate
-parting between the friends, Elizabeth was attended to the carriage by
-Mr. Collins; and as they walked down the garden, he was commissioning
-her with his best respects to all her family, not forgetting his thanks
-for the kindness he had received at Longbourn in the winter, and his
-compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though unknown. He then handed
-her in, Maria followed, and the door was on the point of being closed,
-when he suddenly reminded them, with some consternation, that they had
-hitherto forgotten to leave any message for the ladies of Rosings.
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“They had forgotten to leave any message”
-]
-
-“But,” he added, “you will of course wish to have your humble respects
-delivered to them, with your grateful thanks for their kindness to you
-while you have been here.”
-
-Elizabeth made no objection: the door was then allowed to be shut, and
-the carriage drove off.
-
-“Good gracious!” cried Maria, after a few minutes’ silence, “it seems
-but a day or two since we first came! and yet how many things have
-happened!”
-
-“A great many indeed,” said her companion, with a sigh.
-
-“We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there twice!
-How much I shall have to tell!”
-
-Elizabeth privately added, “And how much I shall have to conceal!”
-
-Their journey was performed without much conversation, or any alarm; and
-within four hours of their leaving Hunsford they reached Mr. Gardiner’s
-house, where they were to remain a few days.
-
-Jane looked well, and Elizabeth had little opportunity of studying her
-spirits, amidst the various engagements which the kindness of her aunt
-had reserved for them. But Jane was to go home with her, and at
-Longbourn there would be leisure enough for observation.
-
-It was not without an effort, meanwhile, that she could wait even for
-Longbourn, before she told her sister of Mr. Darcy’s proposals. To know
-that she had the power of revealing what would so exceedingly astonish
-Jane, and must, at the same time, so highly gratify whatever of her own
-vanity she had not yet been able to reason away, was such a temptation
-to openness as nothing could have conquered, but the state of indecision
-in which she remained as to the extent of what she should communicate,
-and her fear, if she once entered on the subject, of being hurried into
-repeating something of Bingley, which might only grieve her sister
-further.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “How nicely we are crammed in”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXIX.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-It was the second week in May, in which the three young ladies set out
-together from Gracechurch Street for the town of ----, in Hertfordshire;
-and, as they drew near the appointed inn where Mr. Bennet’s carriage was
-to meet them, they quickly perceived, in token of the coachman’s
-punctuality, both Kitty and Lydia looking out of a dining-room upstairs.
-These two girls had been above an hour in the place, happily employed
-in visiting an opposite milliner, watching the sentinel on guard, and
-dressing a salad and cucumber.
-
-After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed a table set
-out with such cold meat as an inn larder usually affords, exclaiming,
-“Is not this nice? is not this an agreeable surprise?”
-
-“And we mean to treat you all,” added Lydia; “but you must lend us the
-money, for we have just spent ours at the shop out there.” Then showing
-her purchases,--“Look here, I have bought this bonnet. I do not think it
-is very pretty; but I thought I might as well buy it as not. I shall
-pull it to pieces as soon as I get home, and see if I can make it up any
-better.”
-
-And when her sisters abused it as ugly, she added, with perfect
-unconcern, “Oh, but there were two or three much uglier in the shop; and
-when I have bought some prettier-coloured satin to trim it with fresh, I
-think it will be very tolerable. Besides, it will not much signify what
-one wears this summer, after the ----shire have left Meryton, and they
-are going in a fortnight.”
-
-“Are they, indeed?” cried Elizabeth, with the greatest satisfaction.
-
-“They are going to be encamped near Brighton; and I do so want papa to
-take us all there for the summer! It would be such a delicious scheme,
-and I dare say would hardly cost anything at all. Mamma would like to
-go, too, of all things! Only think what a miserable summer else we shall
-have!”
-
-“Yes,” thought Elizabeth; “_that_ would be a delightful scheme, indeed,
-and completely do for us at once. Good Heaven! Brighton and a whole
-campful of soldiers, to us, who have been overset already by one poor
-regiment of militia, and the monthly balls of Meryton!”
-
-“Now I have got some news for you,” said Lydia, as they sat down to
-table. “What do you think? It is excellent news, capital news, and about
-a certain person that we all like.”
-
-Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, and the waiter was told that he
-need not stay. Lydia laughed, and said,--
-
-“Ay, that is just like your formality and discretion. You thought the
-waiter must not hear, as if he cared! I dare say he often hears worse
-things said than I am going to say. But he is an ugly fellow! I am glad
-he is gone. I never saw such a long chin in my life. Well, but now for
-my news: it is about dear Wickham; too good for the waiter, is not it?
-There is no danger of Wickham’s marrying Mary King--there’s for you! She
-is gone down to her uncle at Liverpool; gone to stay. Wickham is safe.”
-
-“And Mary King is safe!” added Elizabeth; “safe from a connection
-imprudent as to fortune.”
-
-“She is a great fool for going away, if she liked him.”
-
-“But I hope there is no strong attachment on either side,” said Jane.
-
-“I am sure there is not on _his_. I will answer for it, he never cared
-three straws about her. Who _could_ about such a nasty little freckled
-thing?”
-
-Elizabeth was shocked to think that, however incapable of such
-coarseness of _expression_ herself, the coarseness of the _sentiment_
-was little other than her own breast had formerly harboured and fancied
-liberal!
-
-As soon as all had ate, and the elder ones paid, the carriage was
-ordered; and, after some contrivance, the whole party, with all their
-boxes, workbags, and parcels, and the unwelcome addition of Kitty’s and
-Lydia’s purchases, were seated in it.
-
-“How nicely we are crammed in!” cried Lydia. “I am glad I brought my
-bonnet, if it is only for the fun of having another band-box! Well, now
-let us be quite comfortable and snug, and talk and laugh all the way
-home. And in the first place, let us hear what has happened to you all
-since you went away. Have you seen any pleasant men? Have you had any
-flirting? I was in great hopes that one of you would have got a husband
-before you came back. Jane will be quite an old maid soon, I declare.
-She is almost three-and-twenty! Lord! how ashamed I should be of not
-being married before three-and-twenty! My aunt Philips wants you so to
-get husbands you can’t think. She says Lizzy had better have taken Mr.
-Collins; but _I_ do not think there would have been any fun in it. Lord!
-how I should like to be married before any of you! and then I would
-_chaperon_ you about to all the balls. Dear me! we had such a good piece
-of fun the other day at Colonel Forster’s! Kitty and me were to spend
-the day there, and Mrs. Forster promised to have a little dance in the
-evening; (by-the-bye, Mrs. Forster and me are _such_ friends!) and so
-she asked the two Harringtons to come: but Harriet was ill, and so Pen
-was forced to come by herself; and then, what do you think we did? We
-dressed up Chamberlayne in woman’s clothes, on purpose to pass for a
-lady,--only think what fun! Not a soul knew of it, but Colonel and Mrs.
-Forster, and Kitty and me, except my aunt, for we were forced to borrow
-one of her gowns; and you cannot imagine how well he looked! When Denny,
-and Wickham, and Pratt, and two or three more of the men came in, they
-did not know him in the least. Lord! how I laughed! and so did Mrs.
-Forster. I thought I should have died. And _that_ made the men suspect
-something, and then they soon found out what was the matter.”
-
-With such kind of histories of their parties and good jokes did Lydia,
-assisted by Kitty’s hints and additions, endeavour to amuse her
-companions all the way to Longbourn. Elizabeth listened as little as she
-could, but there was no escaping the frequent mention of Wickham’s name.
-
-Their reception at home was most kind. Mrs. Bennet rejoiced to see Jane
-in undiminished beauty; and more than once during dinner did Mr. Bennet
-say voluntarily to Elizabeth,----
-
-“I am glad you are come back, Lizzy.”
-
-Their party in the dining-room was large, for almost all the Lucases
-came to meet Maria and hear the news; and various were the subjects
-which occupied them: Lady Lucas was inquiring of Maria, across the
-table, after the welfare and poultry of her eldest daughter; Mrs. Bennet
-was doubly engaged, on one hand collecting an account of the present
-fashions from Jane, who sat some way below her, and on the other,
-retailing them all to the younger Miss Lucases; and Lydia, in a voice
-rather louder than any other person’s, was enumerating the various
-pleasures of the morning to anybody who would hear her.
-
-“Oh, Mary,” said she, “I wish you had gone with us, for we had such fun!
-as we went along Kitty and me drew up all the blinds, and pretended
-there was nobody in the coach; and I should have gone so all the way, if
-Kitty had not been sick; and when we got to the George, I do think we
-behaved very handsomely, for we treated the other three with the nicest
-cold luncheon in the world, and if you would have gone, we would have
-treated you too. And then when we came away it was such fun! I thought
-we never should have got into the coach. I was ready to die of laughter.
-And then we were so merry all the way home! we talked and laughed so
-loud, that anybody might have heard us ten miles off!”
-
-To this, Mary very gravely replied, “Far be it from me, my dear sister,
-to depreciate such pleasures. They would doubtless be congenial with the
-generality of female minds. But I confess they would have no charms for
-_me_. I should infinitely prefer a book.”
-
-But of this answer Lydia heard not a word. She seldom listened to
-anybody for more than half a minute, and never attended to Mary at all.
-
-In the afternoon Lydia was urgent with the rest of the girls to walk to
-Meryton, and see how everybody went on; but Elizabeth steadily opposed
-the scheme. It should not be said, that the Miss Bennets could not be at
-home half a day before they were in pursuit of the officers. There was
-another reason, too, for her opposition. She dreaded seeing Wickham
-again, and was resolved to avoid it as long as possible. The comfort to
-_her_, of the regiment’s approaching removal, was indeed beyond
-expression. In a fortnight they were to go, and once gone, she hoped
-there could be nothing more to plague her on his account.
-
-She had not been many hours at home, before she found that the Brighton
-scheme, of which Lydia had given them a hint at the inn, was under
-frequent discussion between her parents. Elizabeth saw directly that her
-father had not the smallest intention of yielding; but his answers were
-at the same time so vague and equivocal, that her mother, though often
-disheartened, had never yet despaired of succeeding at last.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XL.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Elizabeth’s impatience to acquaint Jane with what had happened could no
-longer be overcome; and at length resolving to suppress every particular
-in which her sister was concerned, and preparing her to be surprised,
-she related to her the next morning the chief of the scene between Mr.
-Darcy and herself.
-
-Miss Bennet’s astonishment was soon lessened by the strong sisterly
-partiality which made any admiration of Elizabeth appear perfectly
-natural; and all surprise was shortly lost in other feelings. She was
-sorry that Mr. Darcy should have delivered his sentiments in a manner so
-little suited to recommend them; but still more was she grieved for the
-unhappiness which her sister’s refusal must have given him.
-
-“His being so sure of succeeding was wrong,” said she, “and certainly
-ought not to have appeared; but consider how much it must increase his
-disappointment.”
-
-“Indeed,” replied Elizabeth, “I am heartily sorry for him; but he has
-other feelings which will probably soon drive away his regard for me.
-You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?”
-
-“Blame you! Oh, no.”
-
-“But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of Wickham?”
-
-“No--I do not know that you were wrong in saying what you did.”
-
-“But you _will_ know it, when I have told you what happened the very
-next day.”
-
-She then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its contents as far
-as they concerned George Wickham. What a stroke was this for poor Jane,
-who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that
-so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind as was here
-collected in one individual! Nor was Darcy’s vindication, though
-grateful to her feelings, capable of consoling her for such discovery.
-Most earnestly did she labour to prove the probability of error, and
-seek to clear one, without involving the other.
-
-“This will not do,” said Elizabeth; “you never will be able to make both
-of them good for anything. Take your choice, but you must be satisfied
-with only one. There is but such a quantity of merit between them; just
-enough to make one good sort of man; and of late it has been shifting
-about pretty much. For my part, I am inclined to believe it all Mr.
-Darcy’s, but you shall do as you choose.”
-
-It was some time, however, before a smile could be extorted from Jane.
-
-“I do not know when I have been more shocked,” said she. “Wickham so
-very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr. Darcy! dear Lizzy,
-only consider what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! and
-with the knowledge of your ill opinion too! and having to relate such a
-thing of his sister! It is really too distressing, I am sure you must
-feel it so.”
-
-“Oh no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing you so full
-of both. I know you will do him such ample justice, that I am growing
-every moment more unconcerned and indifferent. Your profusion makes me
-saving; and if you lament over him much longer, my heart will be as
-light as a feather.”
-
-“Poor Wickham! there is such an expression of goodness in his
-countenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner.”
-
-“There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those
-two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the
-appearance of it.”
-
-“I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the _appearance_ of it as you
-used to do.”
-
-“And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike
-to him, without any reason. It is such a spur to one’s genius, such an
-opening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind. One may be continually
-abusive without saying anything just; but one cannot be always laughing
-at a man without now and then stumbling on something witty.”
-
-“Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am sure you could not treat
-the matter as you do now.”
-
-“Indeed, I could not. I was uncomfortable enough, I was very
-uncomfortable--I may say unhappy. And with no one to speak to of what I
-felt, no Jane to comfort me, and say that I had not been so very weak,
-and vain, and nonsensical, as I knew I had! Oh, how I wanted you!”
-
-“How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong expressions
-in speaking of Wickham to Mr. Darcy, for now they _do_ appear wholly
-undeserved.”
-
-“Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness is a most
-natural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging. There is
-one point on which I want your advice. I want to be told whether I
-ought, or ought not, to make our acquaintance in general understand
-Wickham’s character.”
-
-Miss Bennet paused a little, and then replied, “Surely there can be no
-occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. What is your own opinion?”
-
-“That it ought not to be attempted. Mr. Darcy has not authorized me to
-make his communication public. On the contrary, every particular
-relative to his sister was meant to be kept as much as possible to
-myself; and if I endeavour to undeceive people as to the rest of his
-conduct, who will believe me? The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is
-so violent, that it would be the death of half the good people in
-Meryton, to attempt to place him in an amiable light. I am not equal to
-it. Wickham will soon be gone; and, therefore, it will not signify to
-anybody here what he really is. Some time hence it will be all found
-out, and then we may laugh at their stupidity in not knowing it before.
-At present I will say nothing about it.”
-
-“You are quite right. To have his errors made public might ruin him for
-ever. He is now, perhaps, sorry for what he has done, and anxious to
-re-establish a character. We must not make him desperate.”
-
-The tumult of Elizabeth’s mind was allayed by this conversation. She
-had got rid of two of the secrets which had weighed on her for a
-fortnight, and was certain of a willing listener in Jane, whenever she
-might wish to talk again of either. But there was still something
-lurking behind, of which prudence forbade the disclosure. She dared not
-relate the other half of Mr. Darcy’s letter, nor explain to her sister
-how sincerely she had been valued by his friend. Here was knowledge in
-which no one could partake; and she was sensible that nothing less than
-a perfect understanding between the parties could justify her in
-throwing off this last encumbrance of mystery. “And then,” said she, “if
-that very improbable event should ever take place, I shall merely be
-able to tell what Bingley may tell in a much more agreeable manner
-himself. The liberty of communication cannot be mine till it has lost
-all its value!”
-
-She was now, on being settled at home, at leisure to observe the real
-state of her sister’s spirits. Jane was not happy. She still cherished a
-very tender affection for Bingley. Having never even fancied herself in
-love before, her regard had all the warmth of first attachment, and from
-her age and disposition, greater steadiness than first attachments often
-boast; and so fervently did she value his remembrance, and prefer him to
-every other man, that all her good sense, and all her attention to the
-feelings of her friends, were requisite to check the indulgence of those
-regrets which must have been injurious to her own health and their
-tranquillity.
-
-“Well, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet, one day, “what is your opinion _now_ of
-this sad business of Jane’s? For my part, I am determined never to speak
-of it again to anybody. I told my sister Philips so the other day. But I
-cannot find out that Jane saw anything of him in London. Well, he is a
-very undeserving young man--and I do not suppose there is the least
-chance in the world of her ever getting him now. There is no talk of his
-coming to Netherfield again in the summer; and I have inquired of
-everybody, too, who is likely to know.”
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “I am determined never to speak of it again”
-]
-
-“I do not believe that he will ever live at Netherfield any more.”
-
-“Oh, well! it is just as he chooses. Nobody wants him to come; though I
-shall always say that he used my daughter extremely ill; and, if I was
-her, I would not have put up with it. Well, my comfort is, I am sure
-Jane will die of a broken heart, and then he will be sorry for what he
-has done.”
-
-But as Elizabeth could not receive comfort from any such expectation she
-made no answer.
-
-“Well, Lizzy,” continued her mother, soon afterwards, “and so the
-Collinses live very comfortable, do they? Well, well, I only hope it
-will last. And what sort of table do they keep? Charlotte is an
-excellent manager, I dare say. If she is half as sharp as her mother,
-she is saving enough. There is nothing extravagant in _their_
-housekeeping, I dare say.”
-
-“No, nothing at all.”
-
-“A great deal of good management, depend upon it. Yes, yes. _They_ will
-take care not to outrun their income. _They_ will never be distressed
-for money. Well, much good may it do them! And so, I suppose, they often
-talk of having Longbourn when your father is dead. They look upon it
-quite as their own, I dare say, whenever that happens.”
-
-“It was a subject which they could not mention before me.”
-
-“No; it would have been strange if they had. But I make no doubt they
-often talk of it between themselves. Well, if they can be easy with an
-estate that is not lawfully their own, so much the better. _I_ should be
-ashamed of having one that was only entailed on me.”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“When Colonel Miller’s regiment went away”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XLI.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The first week of their return was soon gone. The second began. It was
-the last of the regiment’s stay in Meryton, and all the young ladies in
-the neighbourhood were drooping apace. The dejection was almost
-universal. The elder Miss Bennets alone were still able to eat, drink,
-and sleep, and pursue the usual course of their employments. Very
-frequently were they reproached for this insensibility by Kitty and
-Lydia, whose own misery was extreme, and who could not comprehend such
-hard-heartedness in any of the family.
-
-“Good Heaven! What is to become of us? What are we to do?” would they
-often exclaim in the bitterness of woe. “How can you be smiling so,
-Lizzy?”
-
-Their affectionate mother shared all their grief; she remembered what
-she had herself endured on a similar occasion five-and-twenty years ago.
-
-“I am sure,” said she, “I cried for two days together when Colonel
-Miller’s regiment went away. I thought I should have broke my heart.”
-
-“I am sure I shall break _mine_,” said Lydia.
-
-“If one could but go to Brighton!” observed Mrs. Bennet.
-
-“Oh yes!--if one could but go to Brighton! But papa is so disagreeable.”
-
-“A little sea-bathing would set me up for ever.”
-
-“And my aunt Philips is sure it would do _me_ a great deal of good,”
-added Kitty.
-
-Such were the kind of lamentations resounding perpetually through
-Longbourn House. Elizabeth tried to be diverted by them; but all sense
-of pleasure was lost in shame. She felt anew the justice of Mr. Darcy’s
-objections; and never had she before been so much disposed to pardon his
-interference in the views of his friend.
-
-But the gloom of Lydia’s prospect was shortly cleared away; for she
-received an invitation from Mrs. Forster, the wife of the colonel of the
-regiment, to accompany her to Brighton. This invaluable friend was a
-very young woman, and very lately married. A resemblance in good-humour
-and good spirits had recommended her and Lydia to each other, and out of
-their _three_ months’ acquaintance they had been intimate _two_.
-
-The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adoration of Mrs. Forster,
-the delight of Mrs. Bennet, and the mortification of Kitty, are scarcely
-to be described. Wholly inattentive to her sister’s feelings, Lydia flew
-about the house in restless ecstasy, calling for everyone’s
-congratulations, and laughing and talking with more violence than ever;
-whilst the luckless Kitty continued in the parlour repining at her fate
-in terms as unreasonable as her accent was peevish.
-
-“I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask _me_ as well as Lydia,”
-said she, “though I am _not_ her particular friend. I have just as much
-right to be asked as she has, and more too, for I am two years older.”
-
-In vain did Elizabeth attempt to make her reasonable, and Jane to make
-her resigned. As for Elizabeth herself, this invitation was so far from
-exciting in her the same feelings as in her mother and Lydia, that she
-considered it as the death-warrant of all possibility of common sense
-for the latter; and detestable as such a step must make her, were it
-known, she could not help secretly advising her father not to let her
-go. She represented to him all the improprieties of Lydia’s general
-behaviour, the little advantage she could derive from the friendship of
-such a woman as Mrs. Forster, and the probability of her being yet more
-imprudent with such a companion at Brighton, where the temptations must
-be greater than at home. He heard her attentively, and then said,--
-
-“Lydia will never be easy till she has exposed herself in some public
-place or other, and we can never expect her to do it with so little
-expense or inconvenience to her family as under the present
-circumstances.”
-
-“If you were aware,” said Elizabeth, “of the very great disadvantage to
-us all, which must arise from the public notice of Lydia’s unguarded and
-imprudent manner, nay, which has already arisen from it, I am sure you
-would judge differently in the affair.”
-
-“Already arisen!” repeated Mr. Bennet. “What! has she frightened away
-some of your lovers? Poor little Lizzy! But do not be cast down. Such
-squeamish youths as cannot bear to be connected with a little absurdity
-are not worth a regret. Come, let me see the list of the pitiful fellows
-who have been kept aloof by Lydia’s folly.”
-
-“Indeed, you are mistaken. I have no such injuries to resent. It is not
-of peculiar, but of general evils, which I am now complaining. Our
-importance, our respectability in the world, must be affected by the
-wild volatility, the assurance and disdain of all restraint which mark
-Lydia’s character. Excuse me,--for I must speak plainly. If you, my dear
-father, will not take the trouble of checking her exuberant spirits, and
-of teaching her that her present pursuits are not to be the business of
-her life, she will soon be beyond the reach of amendment. Her character
-will be fixed; and she will, at sixteen, be the most determined flirt
-that ever made herself and her family ridiculous;--a flirt, too, in the
-worst and meanest degree of flirtation; without any attraction beyond
-youth and a tolerable person; and, from the ignorance and emptiness of
-her mind, wholly unable to ward off any portion of that universal
-contempt which her rage for admiration will excite. In this danger Kitty
-is also comprehended. She will follow wherever Lydia leads. Vain,
-ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled! Oh, my dear father, can you
-suppose it possible that they will not be censured and despised wherever
-they are known, and that their sisters will not be often involved in the
-disgrace?”
-
-Mr. Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the subject; and,
-affectionately taking her hand, said, in reply,--
-
-“Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane are known,
-you must be respected and valued; and you will not appear to less
-advantage for having a couple of--or I may say, three--very silly
-sisters. We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go to
-Brighton. Let her go, then. Colonel Forster is a sensible man, and will
-keep her out of any real mischief; and she is luckily too poor to be an
-object of prey to anybody. At Brighton she will be of less importance
-even as a common flirt than she has been here. The officers will find
-women better worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that her being
-there may teach her her own insignificance. At any rate, she cannot grow
-many degrees worse, without authorizing us to lock her up for the rest
-of her life.”
-
-With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be content; but her own opinion
-continued the same, and she left him disappointed and sorry. It was not
-in her nature, however, to increase her vexations by dwelling on them.
-She was confident of having performed her duty; and to fret over
-unavoidable evils, or augment them by anxiety, was no part of her
-disposition.
-
-Had Lydia and her mother known the substance of her conference with her
-father, their indignation would hardly have found expression in their
-united volubility. In Lydia’s imagination, a visit to Brighton comprised
-every possibility of earthly happiness. She saw, with the creative eye
-of fancy, the streets of that gay bathing-place covered with officers.
-She saw herself the object of attention to tens and to scores of them at
-present unknown. She saw all the glories of the camp: its tents
-stretched forth in beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded with the young
-and the gay, and dazzling with scarlet; and, to complete the view, she
-saw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly flirting with at least six
-officers at once.
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“Tenderly flirting”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-Had she known that her sister sought to tear her from such prospects and
-such realities as these, what would have been her sensations? They could
-have been understood only by her mother, who might have felt nearly the
-same. Lydia’s going to Brighton was all that consoled her for the
-melancholy conviction of her husband’s never intending to go there
-himself.
-
-But they were entirely ignorant of what had passed; and their raptures
-continued, with little intermission, to the very day of Lydia’s leaving
-home.
-
-Elizabeth was now to see Mr. Wickham for the last time. Having been
-frequently in company with him since her return, agitation was pretty
-well over; the agitations of former partiality entirely so. She had even
-learnt to detect, in the very gentleness which had first delighted her,
-an affectation and a sameness to disgust and weary. In his present
-behaviour to herself, moreover, she had a fresh source of displeasure;
-for the inclination he soon testified of renewing those attentions which
-had marked the early part of their acquaintance could only serve, after
-what had since passed, to provoke her. She lost all concern for him in
-finding herself thus selected as the object of such idle and frivolous
-gallantry; and while she steadily repressed it, could not but feel the
-reproof contained in his believing, that however long, and for whatever
-cause, his attentions had been withdrawn, her vanity would be gratified,
-and her preference secured, at any time, by their renewal.
-
-On the very last day of the regiment’s remaining in Meryton, he dined,
-with others of the officers, at Longbourn; and so little was Elizabeth
-disposed to part from him in good-humour, that, on his making some
-inquiry as to the manner in which her time had passed at Hunsford, she
-mentioned Colonel Fitzwilliam’s and Mr. Darcy’s having both spent three
-weeks at Rosings, and asked him if he were acquainted with the former.
-
-He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed; but, with a moment’s
-recollection, and a returning smile, replied, that he had formerly seen
-him often; and, after observing that he was a very gentlemanlike man,
-asked her how she had liked him. Her answer was warmly in his favour.
-With an air of indifference, he soon afterwards added, “How long did you
-say that he was at Rosings?”
-
-“Nearly three weeks.”
-
-“And you saw him frequently?”
-
-“Yes, almost every day.”
-
-“His manners are very different from his cousin’s.”
-
-“Yes, very different; but I think Mr. Darcy improves on acquaintance.”
-
-“Indeed!” cried Wickham, with a look which did not escape her. “And pray
-may I ask--” but checking himself, he added, in a gayer tone, “Is it in
-address that he improves? Has he deigned to add aught of civility to his
-ordinary style? for I dare not hope,” he continued, in a lower and more
-serious tone, “that he is improved in essentials.”
-
-“Oh, no!” said Elizabeth. “In essentials, I believe, he is very much
-what he ever was.”
-
-While she spoke, Wickham looked as if scarcely knowing whether to
-rejoice over her words or to distrust their meaning. There was a
-something in her countenance which made him listen with an apprehensive
-and anxious attention, while she added,--
-
-“When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean that
-either his mind or manners were in a state of improvement; but that,
-from knowing him better, his disposition was better understood.”
-
-Wickham’s alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and agitated
-look; for a few minutes he was silent; till, shaking off his
-embarrassment, he turned to her again, and said in the gentlest of
-accents,--
-
-“You, who so well know my feelings towards Mr. Darcy, will readily
-comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assume
-even the _appearance_ of what is right. His pride, in that direction,
-may be of service, if not to himself, to many others, for it must deter
-him from such foul misconduct as I have suffered by. I only fear that
-the sort of cautiousness to which you, I imagine, have been alluding, is
-merely adopted on his visits to his aunt, of whose good opinion and
-judgment he stands much in awe. His fear of her has always operated, I
-know, when they were together; and a good deal is to be imputed to his
-wish of forwarding the match with Miss de Bourgh, which I am certain he
-has very much at heart.”
-
-Elizabeth could not repress a smile at this, but she answered only by a
-slight inclination of the head. She saw that he wanted to engage her on
-the old subject of his grievances, and she was in no humour to indulge
-him. The rest of the evening passed with the _appearance_, on his side,
-of usual cheerfulness, but with no further attempt to distinguish
-Elizabeth; and they parted at last with mutual civility, and possibly a
-mutual desire of never meeting again.
-
-When the party broke up, Lydia returned with Mrs. Forster to Meryton,
-from whence they were to set out early the next morning. The separation
-between her and her family was rather noisy than pathetic. Kitty was the
-only one who shed tears; but she did weep from vexation and envy. Mrs.
-Bennet was diffuse in her good wishes for the felicity of her daughter,
-and impressive in her injunctions that she would not miss the
-opportunity of enjoying herself as much as possible,--advice which there
-was every reason to believe would be attended to; and, in the clamorous
-happiness of Lydia herself in bidding farewell, the more gentle adieus
-of her sisters were uttered without being heard.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-The arrival of the
-Gardiners
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XLII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Had Elizabeth’s opinion been all drawn from her own family, she could
-not have formed a very pleasing picture of conjugal felicity or domestic
-comfort. Her father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance
-of good-humour which youth and beauty generally give, had married a
-woman whose weak understanding and illiberal mind had very early in
-their marriage put an end to all real affection for her. Respect,
-esteem, and confidence had vanished for ever; and all his views of
-domestic happiness were overthrown. But Mr. Bennet was not of a
-disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment which his own
-imprudence had brought on in any of those pleasures which too often
-console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice. He was fond of
-the country and of books; and from these tastes had arisen his principal
-enjoyments. To his wife he was very little otherwise indebted than as
-her ignorance and folly had contributed to his amusement. This is not
-the sort of happiness which a man would in general wish to owe to his
-wife; but where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true
-philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.
-
-Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of her
-father’s behaviour as a husband. She had always seen it with pain; but
-respecting his abilities, and grateful for his affectionate treatment of
-herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook, and to
-banish from her thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation
-and decorum which, in exposing his wife to the contempt of her own
-children, was so highly reprehensible. But she had never felt so
-strongly as now the disadvantages which must attend the children of so
-unsuitable a marriage, nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising
-from so ill-judged a direction of talents--talents which, rightly used,
-might at least have preserved the respectability of his daughters, even
-if incapable of enlarging the mind of his wife.
-
-When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham’s departure, she found little
-other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the regiment. Their parties
-abroad were less varied than before; and at home she had a mother and
-sister, whose constant repinings at the dulness of everything around
-them threw a real gloom over their domestic circle; and, though Kitty
-might in time regain her natural degree of sense, since the disturbers
-of her brain were removed, her other sister, from whose disposition
-greater evil might be apprehended, was likely to be hardened in all her
-folly and assurance, by a situation of such double danger as a
-watering-place and a camp. Upon the whole, therefore, she found, what
-has been sometimes found before, that an event to which she had looked
-forward with impatient desire, did not, in taking place, bring all the
-satisfaction she had promised herself. It was consequently necessary to
-name some other period for the commencement of actual felicity; to have
-some other point on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and by
-again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the
-present, and prepare for another disappointment. Her tour to the Lakes
-was now the object of her happiest thoughts: it was her best consolation
-for all the uncomfortable hours which the discontentedness of her mother
-and Kitty made inevitable; and could she have included Jane in the
-scheme, every part of it would have been perfect.
-
-“But it is fortunate,” thought she, “that I have something to wish for.
-Were the whole arrangement complete, my disappointment would be certain.
-But here, by carrying with me one ceaseless source of regret in my
-sister’s absence, I may reasonably hope to have all my expectations of
-pleasure realized. A scheme of which every part promises delight can
-never be successful; and general disappointment is only warded off by
-the defence of some little peculiar vexation.”
-
-When Lydia went away she promised to write very often and very minutely
-to her mother and Kitty; but her letters were always long expected, and
-always very short. Those to her mother contained little else than that
-they were just returned from the library, where such and such officers
-had attended them, and where she had seen such beautiful ornaments as
-made her quite wild; that she had a new gown, or a new parasol, which
-she would have described more fully, but was obliged to leave off in a
-violent hurry, as Mrs. Forster called her, and they were going to the
-camp; and from her correspondence with her sister there was still less
-to be learnt, for her letters to Kitty, though rather longer, were much
-too full of lines under the words to be made public.
-
-After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, health,
-good-humour, and cheerfulness began to reappear at Longbourn. Everything
-wore a happier aspect. The families who had been in town for the winter
-came back again, and summer finery and summer engagements arose. Mrs.
-Bennet was restored to her usual querulous serenity; and by the middle
-of June Kitty was so much recovered as to be able to enter Meryton
-without tears,--an event of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth
-hope, that by the following Christmas she might be so tolerably
-reasonable as not to mention an officer above once a day, unless, by
-some cruel and malicious arrangement at the War Office, another regiment
-should be quartered in Meryton.
-
-The time fixed for the beginning of their northern tour was now fast
-approaching; and a fortnight only was wanting of it, when a letter
-arrived from Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed its commencement and
-curtailed its extent. Mr. Gardiner would be prevented by business from
-setting out till a fortnight later in July, and must be in London again
-within a month; and as that left too short a period for them to go so
-far, and see so much as they had proposed, or at least to see it with
-the leisure and comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give up
-the Lakes, and substitute a more contracted tour; and, according to the
-present plan, were to go no farther northward than Derbyshire. In that
-county there was enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their three
-weeks; and to Mrs. Gardiner it had a peculiarly strong attraction. The
-town where she had formerly passed some years of her life, and where
-they were now to spend a few days, was probably as great an object of
-her curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth,
-Dovedale, or the Peak.
-
-Elizabeth was excessively disappointed: she had set her heart on seeing
-the Lakes; and still thought there might have been time enough. But it
-was her business to be satisfied--and certainly her temper to be happy;
-and all was soon right again.
-
-With the mention of Derbyshire, there were many ideas connected. It was
-impossible for her to see the word without thinking of Pemberley and its
-owner. “But surely,” said she, “I may enter his county with impunity,
-and rob it of a few petrified spars, without his perceiving me.”
-
-The period of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks were to pass away
-before her uncle and aunt’s arrival. But they did pass away, and Mr. and
-Mrs. Gardiner, with their four children, did at length appear at
-Longbourn. The children, two girls of six and eight years old, and two
-younger boys, were to be left under the particular care of their cousin
-Jane, who was the general favourite, and whose steady sense and
-sweetness of temper exactly adapted her for attending to them in every
-way--teaching them, playing with them, and loving them.
-
-The Gardiners stayed only one night at Longbourn, and set off the next
-morning with Elizabeth in pursuit of novelty and amusement. One
-enjoyment was certain--that of suitableness as companions; a
-suitableness which comprehended health and temper to bear
-inconveniences--cheerfulness to enhance every pleasure--and affection
-and intelligence, which might supply it among themselves if there were
-disappointments abroad.
-
-It is not the object of this work to give a description of Derbyshire,
-nor of any of the remarkable places through which their route thither
-lay--Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth, Birmingham, etc., are
-sufficiently known. A small part of Derbyshire is all the present
-concern. To the little town of Lambton, the scene of Mrs. Gardiner’s
-former residence, and where she had lately learned that some
-acquaintance still remained, they bent their steps, after having seen
-all the principal wonders of the country; and within five miles of
-Lambton, Elizabeth found, from her aunt, that Pemberley was situated. It
-was not in their direct road; nor more than a mile or two out of it. In
-talking over their route the evening before, Mrs. Gardiner expressed an
-inclination to see the place again. Mr. Gardiner declared his
-willingness, and Elizabeth was applied to for her approbation.
-
-“My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have heard so
-much?” said her aunt. “A place, too, with which so many of your
-acquaintance are connected. Wickham passed all his youth there, you
-know.”
-
-Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no business at
-Pemberley, and was obliged to assume a disinclination for seeing it. She
-must own that she was tired of great houses: after going over so many,
-she really had no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains.
-
-Mrs. Gardiner abused her stupidity. “If it were merely a fine house
-richly furnished,” said she, “I should not care about it myself; but the
-grounds are delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the
-country.”
-
-Elizabeth said no more; but her mind could not acquiesce. The
-possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy, while viewing the place, instantly
-occurred. It would be dreadful! She blushed at the very idea; and
-thought it would be better to speak openly to her aunt, than to run such
-a risk. But against this there were objections; and she finally resolved
-that it could be the last resource, if her private inquiries as to the
-absence of the family were unfavourably answered.
-
-Accordingly, when she retired at night, she asked the chambermaid
-whether Pemberley were not a very fine place, what was the name of its
-proprietor, and, with no little alarm, whether the family were down for
-the summer? A most welcome negative followed the last question; and her
-alarms being now removed, she was at leisure to feel a great deal of
-curiosity to see the house herself; and when the subject was revived the
-next morning, and she was again applied to, could readily answer, and
-with a proper air of indifference, that she had not really any dislike
-to the scheme.
-
-To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “Conjecturing as to the date”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XLIII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Elizabeth, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance of
-Pemberley Woods with some perturbation; and when at length they turned
-in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter.
-
-The park was very large, and contained great variety of ground. They
-entered it in one of its lowest points, and drove for some time through
-a beautiful wood stretching over a wide extent.
-
-Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired
-every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for
-half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable
-eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by
-Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of the valley, into which
-the road with some abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome stone
-building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high
-woody hills; and in front a stream of some natural importance was
-swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks
-were neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She
-had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural
-beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were
-all of them warm in their admiration; and at that moment she felt that
-to be mistress of Pemberley might be something!
-
-They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door; and,
-while examining the nearer aspect of the house, all her apprehension of
-meeting its owner returned. She dreaded lest the chambermaid had been
-mistaken. On applying to see the place, they were admitted into the
-hall; and Elizabeth, as they waited for the housekeeper, had leisure to
-wonder at her being where she was.
-
-The housekeeper came; a respectable looking elderly woman, much less
-fine, and more civil, than she had any notion of finding her. They
-followed her into the dining-parlour. It was a large, well-proportioned
-room, handsomely fitted up. Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, went
-to a window to enjoy its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, from
-which they had descended, receiving increased abruptness from the
-distance, was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was
-good; and she looked on the whole scene, the river, the trees scattered
-on its banks, and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace
-it, with delight. As they passed into other rooms, these objects were
-taking different positions; but from every window there were beauties
-to be seen. The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture
-suitable to the fortune of their proprietor; but Elizabeth saw, with
-admiration of his taste, that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly
-fine,--with less of splendour, and more real elegance, than the
-furniture of Rosings.
-
-“And of this place,” thought she, “I might have been mistress! With
-these rooms I might have now been familiarly acquainted! Instead of
-viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced in them as my own, and
-welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and aunt. But, no,” recollecting
-herself, “that could never be; my uncle and aunt would have been lost to
-me; I should not have been allowed to invite them.”
-
-This was a lucky recollection--it saved her from something like regret.
-
-She longed to inquire of the housekeeper whether her master were really
-absent, but had not courage for it. At length, however, the question was
-asked by her uncle; and she turned away with alarm, while Mrs. Reynolds
-replied, that he was; adding, “But we expect him to-morrow, with a large
-party of friends.” How rejoiced was Elizabeth that their own journey had
-not by any circumstance been delayed a day!
-
-Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She approached, and saw
-the likeness of Mr. Wickham, suspended, amongst several other
-miniatures, over the mantel-piece. Her aunt asked her, smilingly, how
-she liked it. The housekeeper came forward, and told them it was the
-picture of a young gentleman, the son of her late master’s steward, who
-had been brought up by him at his own expense. “He is now gone into the
-army,” she added; “but I am afraid he has turned out very wild.”
-
-Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizabeth could not
-return it.
-
-“And that,” said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another of the miniatures,
-“is my master--and very like him. It was drawn at the same time as the
-other--about eight years ago.”
-
-“I have heard much of your master’s fine person,” said Mrs. Gardiner,
-looking at the picture; “it is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell
-us whether it is like or not.”
-
-Mrs. Reynolds’ respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this
-intimation of her knowing her master.
-
-“Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?”
-
-Elizabeth coloured, and said, “A little.”
-
-“And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma’am?”
-
-“Yes, very handsome.”
-
-“I am sure _I_ know none so handsome; but in the gallery upstairs you
-will see a finer, larger picture of him than this. This room was my late
-master’s favourite room, and these miniatures are just as they used to
-be then. He was very fond of them.”
-
-This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr. Wickham’s being among them.
-
-Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to one of Miss Darcy, drawn
-when she was only eight years old.
-
-“And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?” said Mr. Gardiner.
-
-“Oh, yes--the handsomest young lady that ever was seen; and so
-accomplished! She plays and sings all day long. In the next room is a
-new instrument just come down for her--a present from my master: she
-comes here to-morrow with him.”
-
-Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were easy and pleasant, encouraged her
-communicativeness by his questions and remarks: Mrs. Reynolds, either
-from pride or attachment, had evidently great pleasure in talking of her
-master and his sister.
-
-“Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?”
-
-“Not so much as I could wish, sir: but I dare say he may spend half his
-time here; and Miss Darcy is always down for the summer months.”
-
-“Except,” thought Elizabeth, “when she goes to Ramsgate.”
-
-“If your master would marry, you might see more of him.”
-
-“Yes, sir; but I do not know when _that_ will be. I do not know who is
-good enough for him.”
-
-Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth could not help saying, “It is
-very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think so.”
-
-“I say no more than the truth, and what everybody will say that knows
-him,” replied the other. Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far;
-and she listened with increasing astonishment as the housekeeper added,
-“I have never had a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him
-ever since he was four years old.”
-
-This was praise of all others most extraordinary, most opposite to her
-ideas. That he was not a good-tempered man had been her firmest opinion.
-Her keenest attention was awakened: she longed to hear more; and was
-grateful to her uncle for saying,--
-
-“There are very few people of whom so much can be said. You are lucky in
-having such a master.”
-
-“Yes, sir, I know I am. If I were to go through the world, I could not
-meet with a better. But I have always observed, that they who are
-good-natured when children, are good-natured when they grow up; and he
-was always the sweetest tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the
-world.”
-
-Elizabeth almost stared at her. “Can this be Mr. Darcy?” thought she.
-
-“His father was an excellent man,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
-
-“Yes, ma’am, that he was indeed; and his son will be just like him--just
-as affable to the poor.”
-
-Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for more. Mrs.
-Reynolds could interest her on no other point. She related the subjects
-of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, and the price of the
-furniture in vain. Mr. Gardiner, highly amused by the kind of family
-prejudice, to which he attributed her excessive commendation of her
-master, soon led again to the subject; and she dwelt with energy on his
-many merits, as they proceeded together up the great staircase.
-
-“He is the best landlord, and the best master,” said she, “that ever
-lived. Not like the wild young men now-a-days, who think of nothing but
-themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but what will
-give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never
-saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle
-away like other young men.”
-
-“In what an amiable light does this place him!” thought Elizabeth.
-
-“This fine account of him,” whispered her aunt as they walked, “is not
-quite consistent with his behaviour to our poor friend.”
-
-“Perhaps we might be deceived.”
-
-“That is not very likely; our authority was too good.”
-
-On reaching the spacious lobby above, they were shown into a very pretty
-sitting-room, lately fitted up with greater elegance and lightness than
-the apartments below; and were informed that it was but just done to
-give pleasure to Miss Darcy, who had taken a liking to the room, when
-last at Pemberley.
-
-“He is certainly a good brother,” said Elizabeth, as she walked towards
-one of the windows.
-
-Mrs. Reynolds anticipated Miss Darcy’s delight, when she should enter
-the room. “And this is always the way with him,” she added. “Whatever
-can give his sister any pleasure, is sure to be done in a moment. There
-is nothing he would not do for her.”
-
-The picture gallery, and two or three of the principal bed-rooms, were
-all that remained to be shown. In the former were many good paintings:
-but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art; and from such as had been already
-visible below, she had willingly turned to look at some drawings of Miss
-Darcy’s, in crayons, whose subjects were usually more interesting, and
-also more intelligible.
-
-In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could have
-little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked on in quest
-of the only face whose features would be known to her. At last it
-arrested her--and she beheld a striking resemblance of Mr. Darcy, with
-such a smile over the face, as she remembered to have sometimes seen,
-when he looked at her. She stood several minutes before the picture, in
-earnest contemplation, and returned to it again before they quitted the
-gallery. Mrs. Reynolds informed them, that it had been taken in his
-father’s lifetime.
-
-There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth’s mind, a more gentle
-sensation towards the original than she had ever felt in the height of
-their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs. Reynolds
-was of no trifling nature. What praise is more valuable than the praise
-of an intelligent servant? As a brother, a landlord, a master, she
-considered how many people’s happiness were in his guardianship! How
-much of pleasure or pain it was in his power to bestow! How much of good
-or evil must be done by him! Every idea that had been brought forward by
-the housekeeper was favourable to his character; and as she stood before
-the canvas, on which he was represented, and fixed his eyes upon
-herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper sentiment of gratitude
-than it had ever raised before: she remembered its warmth, and softened
-its impropriety of expression.
-
-When all of the house that was open to general inspection had been seen,
-they returned down stairs; and, taking leave of the housekeeper, were
-consigned over to the gardener, who met them at the hall door.
-
-As they walked across the lawn towards the river, Elizabeth turned back
-to look again; her uncle and aunt stopped also; and while the former was
-conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself
-suddenly came forward from the road which led behind it to the stables.
-
-They were within twenty yards of each other; and so abrupt was his
-appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their eyes
-instantly met, and the cheeks of each were overspread with the deepest
-blush. He absolutely started, and for a moment seemed immovable from
-surprise; but shortly recovering himself, advanced towards the party,
-and spoke to Elizabeth, if not in terms of perfect composure, at least
-of perfect civility.
-
-She had instinctively turned away; but stopping on his approach,
-received his compliments with an embarrassment impossible to be
-overcome. Had his first appearance, or his resemblance to the picture
-they had just been examining, been insufficient to assure the other two
-that they now saw Mr. Darcy, the gardener’s expression of surprise, on
-beholding his master, must immediately have told it. They stood a little
-aloof while he was talking to their niece, who, astonished and confused,
-scarcely dared lift her eyes to his face, and knew not what answer she
-returned to his civil inquiries after her family. Amazed at the
-alteration of his manner since they last parted, every sentence that he
-uttered was increasing her embarrassment; and every idea of the
-impropriety of her being found there recurring to her mind, the few
-minutes in which they continued together were some of the most
-uncomfortable of her life. Nor did he seem much more at ease; when he
-spoke, his accent had none of its usual sedateness; and he repeated his
-inquiries as to the time of her having left Longbourn, and of her stay
-in Derbyshire, so often, and in so hurried a way, as plainly spoke the
-distraction of his thoughts.
-
-At length, every idea seemed to fail him; and after standing a few
-moments without saying a word, he suddenly recollected himself, and took
-leave.
-
-The others then joined her, and expressed their admiration of his
-figure; but Elizabeth heard not a word, and, wholly engrossed by her own
-feelings, followed them in silence. She was overpowered by shame and
-vexation. Her coming there was the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged
-thing in the world! How strange must it appear to him! In what a
-disgraceful light might it not strike so vain a man! It might seem as if
-she had purposely thrown herself in his way again! Oh! why did she come?
-or, why did he thus come a day before he was expected? Had they been
-only ten minutes sooner, they should have been beyond the reach of his
-discrimination; for it was plain that he was that moment arrived, that
-moment alighted from his horse or his carriage. She blushed again and
-again over the perverseness of the meeting. And his behaviour, so
-strikingly altered,--what could it mean? That he should even speak to
-her was amazing!--but to speak with such civility, to inquire after her
-family! Never in her life had she seen his manners so little dignified,
-never had he spoken with such gentleness as on this unexpected meeting.
-What a contrast did it offer to his last address in Rosings Park, when
-he put his letter into her hand! She knew not what to think, or how to
-account for it.
-
-They had now entered a beautiful walk by the side of the water, and
-every step was bringing forward a nobler fall of ground, or a finer
-reach of the woods to which they were approaching: but it was some time
-before Elizabeth was sensible of any of it; and, though she answered
-mechanically to the repeated appeals of her uncle and aunt, and seemed
-to direct her eyes to such objects as they pointed out, she
-distinguished no part of the scene. Her thoughts were all fixed on that
-one spot of Pemberley House, whichever it might be, where Mr. Darcy then
-was. She longed to know what at that moment was passing in his mind; in
-what manner he thought of her, and whether, in defiance of everything,
-she was still dear to him. Perhaps he had been civil only because he
-felt himself at ease; yet there had been _that_ in his voice, which was
-not like ease. Whether he had felt more of pain or of pleasure in seeing
-her, she could not tell, but he certainly had not seen her with
-composure.
-
-At length, however, the remarks of her companions on her absence of mind
-roused her, and she felt the necessity of appearing more like herself.
-
-They entered the woods, and, bidding adieu to the river for a while,
-ascended some of the higher grounds; whence, in spots where the opening
-of the trees gave the eye power to wander, were many charming views of
-the valley, the opposite hills, with the long range of woods
-overspreading many, and occasionally part of the stream. Mr. Gardiner
-expressed a wish of going round the whole park, but feared it might be
-beyond a walk. With a triumphant smile, they were told, that it was ten
-miles round. It settled the matter; and they pursued the accustomed
-circuit; which brought them again, after some time, in a descent among
-hanging woods, to the edge of the water, and one of its narrowest parts.
-They crossed it by a simple bridge, in character with the general air of
-the scene: it was a spot less adorned than any they had yet visited; and
-the valley, here contracted into a glen, allowed room only for the
-stream, and a narrow walk amidst the rough coppice-wood which bordered
-it. Elizabeth longed to explore its windings; but when they had crossed
-the bridge, and perceived their distance from the house, Mrs. Gardiner,
-who was not a great walker, could go no farther, and thought only of
-returning to the carriage as quickly as possible. Her niece was,
-therefore, obliged to submit, and they took their way towards the house
-on the opposite side of the river, in the nearest direction; but their
-progress was slow, for Mr. Gardiner, though seldom able to indulge the
-taste, was very fond of fishing, and was so much engaged in watching the
-occasional appearance of some trout in the water, and talking to the man
-about them, that he advanced but little. Whilst wandering on in this
-slow manner, they were again surprised, and Elizabeth’s astonishment was
-quite equal to what it had been at first, by the sight of Mr. Darcy
-approaching them, and at no great distance. The walk being here less
-sheltered than on the other side, allowed them to see him before they
-met. Elizabeth, however astonished, was at least more prepared for an
-interview than before, and resolved to appear and to speak with
-calmness, if he really intended to meet them. For a few moments, indeed,
-she felt that he would probably strike into some other path. The idea
-lasted while a turning in the walk concealed him from their view; the
-turning past, he was immediately before them. With a glance she saw that
-he had lost none of his recent civility; and, to imitate his politeness,
-she began as they met to admire the beauty of the place; but she had not
-got beyond the words “delightful,” and “charming,” when some unlucky
-recollections obtruded, and she fancied that praise of Pemberley from
-her might be mischievously construed. Her colour changed, and she said
-no more.
-
-Mrs. Gardiner was standing a little behind; and on her pausing, he asked
-her if she would do him the honour of introducing him to her friends.
-This was a stroke of civility for which she was quite unprepared; and
-she could hardly suppress a smile at his being now seeking the
-acquaintance of some of those very people, against whom his pride had
-revolted, in his offer to herself. “What will be his surprise,” thought
-she, “when he knows who they are! He takes them now for people of
-fashion.”
-
-The introduction, however, was immediately made; and as she named their
-relationship to herself, she stole a sly look at him, to see how he bore
-it; and was not without the expectation of his decamping as fast as he
-could from such disgraceful companions. That he was _surprised_ by the
-connection was evident: he sustained it, however, with fortitude: and,
-so far from going away, turned back with them, and entered into
-conversation with Mr. Gardiner. Elizabeth could not but be pleased,
-could not but triumph. It was consoling that he should know she had some
-relations for whom there was no need to blush. She listened most
-attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every
-expression, every sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence,
-his taste, or his good manners.
-
-The conversation soon turned upon fishing; and she heard Mr. Darcy
-invite him, with the greatest civility, to fish there as often as he
-chose, while he continued in the neighbourhood, offering at the same
-time to supply him with fishing tackle, and pointing out those parts of
-the stream where there was usually most sport. Mrs. Gardiner, who was
-walking arm in arm with Elizabeth, gave her a look expressive of her
-wonder. Elizabeth said nothing, but it gratified her exceedingly; the
-compliment must be all for herself. Her astonishment, however, was
-extreme; and continually was she repeating, “Why is he so altered? From
-what can it proceed? It cannot be for _me_, it cannot be for _my_ sake
-that his manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not
-work such a change as this. It is impossible that he should still love
-me.”
-
-After walking some time in this way, the two ladies in front, the two
-gentlemen behind, on resuming their places, after descending to the
-brink of the river for the better inspection of some curious
-water-plant, there chanced to be a little alteration. It originated in
-Mrs. Gardiner, who, fatigued by the exercise of the morning, found
-Elizabeth’s arm inadequate to her support, and consequently preferred
-her husband’s. Mr. Darcy took her place by her niece, and they walked on
-together. After a short silence the lady first spoke. She wished him to
-know that she had been assured of his absence before she came to the
-place, and accordingly began by observing, that his arrival had been
-very unexpected--“for your housekeeper,” she added, “informed us that
-you would certainly not be here till to-morrow; and, indeed, before we
-left Bakewell, we understood that you were not immediately expected in
-the country.” He acknowledged the truth of it all; and said that
-business with his steward had occasioned his coming forward a few hours
-before the rest of the party with whom he had been travelling. “They
-will join me early to-morrow,” he continued, “and among them are some
-who will claim an acquaintance with you,--Mr. Bingley and his sisters.”
-
-Elizabeth answered only by a slight bow. Her thoughts were instantly
-driven back to the time when Mr. Bingley’s name had been last mentioned
-between them; and if she might judge from his complexion, _his_ mind was
-not very differently engaged.
-
-“There is also one other person in the party,” he continued after a
-pause, “who more particularly wishes to be known to you. Will you allow
-me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance
-during your stay at Lambton?”
-
-The surprise of such an application was great indeed; it was too great
-for her to know in what manner she acceded to it. She immediately felt
-that whatever desire Miss Darcy might have of being acquainted with her,
-must be the work of her brother, and without looking farther, it was
-satisfactory; it was gratifying to know that his resentment had not made
-him think really ill of her.
-
-They now walked on in silence; each of them deep in thought. Elizabeth
-was not comfortable; that was impossible; but she was flattered and
-pleased. His wish of introducing his sister to her was a compliment of
-the highest kind. They soon outstripped the others; and when they had
-reached the carriage, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were half a quarter of a
-mile behind.
-
-He then asked her to walk into the house--but she declared herself not
-tired, and they stood together on the lawn. At such a time much might
-have been said, and silence was very awkward. She wanted to talk, but
-there seemed an embargo on every subject. At last she recollected that
-she had been travelling, and they talked of Matlock and Dovedale with
-great perseverance. Yet time and her aunt moved slowly--and her patience
-and her ideas were nearly worn out before the _tête-à-tête_ was over.
-
-On Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s coming up they were all pressed to go into
-the house and take some refreshment; but this was declined, and they
-parted on each side with the utmost politeness. Mr. Darcy handed the
-ladies into the carriage; and when it drove off, Elizabeth saw him
-walking slowly towards the house.
-
-The observations of her uncle and aunt now began; and each of them
-pronounced him to be infinitely superior to anything they had expected.
-
-“He is perfectly well-behaved, polite, and unassuming,” said her uncle.
-
-“There _is_ something a little stately in him, to be sure,” replied her
-aunt; “but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming. I can now
-say with the housekeeper, that though some people may call him proud,
-_I_ have seen nothing of it.”
-
-“I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. It was more
-than civil; it was really attentive; and there was no necessity for such
-attention. His acquaintance with Elizabeth was very trifling.”
-
-“To be sure, Lizzy,” said her aunt, “he is not so handsome as Wickham;
-or rather he has not Wickham’s countenance, for his features are
-perfectly good. But how came you to tell us that he was so
-disagreeable?”
-
-Elizabeth excused herself as well as she could: said that she had liked
-him better when they met in Kent than before, and that she had never
-seen him so pleasant as this morning.
-
-“But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities,” replied
-her uncle. “Your great men often are; and therefore I shall not take him
-at his word about fishing, as he might change his mind another day, and
-warn me off his grounds.”
-
-Elizabeth felt that they had entirely mistaken his character, but said
-nothing.
-
-“From what we have seen of him,” continued Mrs. Gardiner, “I really
-should not have thought that he could have behaved in so cruel a way by
-anybody as he has done by poor Wickham. He has not an ill-natured look.
-On the contrary, there is something pleasing about his mouth when he
-speaks. And there is something of dignity in his countenance, that would
-not give one an unfavourable idea of his heart. But, to be sure, the
-good lady who showed us the house did give him a most flaming character!
-I could hardly help laughing aloud sometimes. But he is a liberal
-master, I suppose, and _that_, in the eye of a servant, comprehends
-every virtue.”
-
-Elizabeth here felt herself called on to say something in vindication of
-his behaviour to Wickham; and, therefore, gave them to understand, in as
-guarded a manner as she could, that by what she had heard from his
-relations in Kent, his actions were capable of a very different
-construction; and that his character was by no means so faulty, nor
-Wickham’s so amiable, as they had been considered in Hertfordshire. In
-confirmation of this, she related the particulars of all the pecuniary
-transactions in which they had been connected, without actually naming
-her authority, but stating it to be such as might be relied on.
-
-Mrs. Gardiner was surprised and concerned: but as they were now
-approaching the scene of her former pleasures, every idea gave way to
-the charm of recollection; and she was too much engaged in pointing out
-to her husband all the interesting spots in its environs, to think of
-anything else. Fatigued as she had been by the morning’s walk, they had
-no sooner dined than she set off again in quest of her former
-acquaintance, and the evening was spent in the satisfactions of an
-intercourse renewed after many years’ discontinuance.
-
-The occurrences of the day were too full of interest to leave Elizabeth
-much attention for any of these new friends; and she could do nothing
-but think, and think with wonder, of Mr. Darcy’s civility, and, above
-all, of his wishing her to be acquainted with his sister.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XLIV.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Elizabeth had settled it that Mr. Darcy would bring his sister to visit
-her the very day after her reaching Pemberley; and was, consequently,
-resolved not to be out of sight of the inn the whole of that morning.
-But her conclusion was false; for on the very morning after their own
-arrival at Lambton these visitors came. They had been walking about the
-place with some of their new friends, and were just returned to the inn
-to dress themselves for dining with the same family, when the sound of a
-carriage drew them to a window, and they saw a gentleman and lady in a
-curricle driving up the street. Elizabeth, immediately recognizing the
-livery, guessed what it meant, and imparted no small degree of surprise
-to her relations, by acquainting them with the honour which she
-expected. Her uncle and aunt were all amazement; and the embarrassment
-of her manner as she spoke, joined to the circumstance itself, and many
-of the circumstances of the preceding day, opened to them a new idea on
-the business. Nothing had ever suggested it before, but they now felt
-that there was no other way of accounting for such attentions from such
-a quarter than by supposing a partiality for their niece. While these
-newly-born notions were passing in their heads, the perturbation of
-Elizabeth’s feelings was every moment increasing. She was quite amazed
-at her own discomposure; but, amongst other causes of disquiet, she
-dreaded lest the partiality of the brother should have said too much in
-her favour; and, more than commonly anxious to please, she naturally
-suspected that every power of pleasing would fail her.
-
-She retreated from the window, fearful of being seen; and as she walked
-up and down the room, endeavouring to compose herself, saw such looks of
-inquiring surprise in her uncle and aunt as made everything worse.
-
-Miss Darcy and her brother appeared, and this formidable introduction
-took place. With astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new
-acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as herself. Since her
-being at Lambton, she had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud;
-but the observation of a very few minutes convinced her that she was
-only exceedingly shy. She found it difficult to obtain even a word from
-her beyond a monosyllable.
-
-Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth; and, though
-little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance
-womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother, but there
-was sense and good-humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly
-unassuming and gentle. Elizabeth, who had expected to find in her as
-acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was much
-relieved by discerning such different feelings.
-
-They had not been long together before Darcy told her that Bingley was
-also coming to wait on her; and she had barely time to express her
-satisfaction, and prepare for such a visitor, when Bingley’s quick step
-was heard on the stairs, and in a moment he entered the room. All
-Elizabeth’s anger against him had been long done away; but had she still
-felt any, it could hardly have stood its ground against the unaffected
-cordiality with which he expressed himself on seeing her again. He
-inquired in a friendly, though general, way, after her family, and
-looked and spoke with the same good-humoured ease that he had ever done.
-
-To Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner he was scarcely a less interesting personage
-than to herself. They had long wished to see him. The whole party before
-them, indeed, excited a lively attention. The suspicions which had just
-arisen of Mr. Darcy and their niece, directed their observation towards
-each with an earnest, though guarded, inquiry; and they soon drew from
-those inquiries the full conviction that one of them at least knew what
-it was to love. Of the lady’s sensations they remained a little in
-doubt; but that the gentleman was overflowing with admiration was
-evident enough.
-
-Elizabeth, on her side, had much to do. She wanted to ascertain the
-feelings of each of her visitors, she wanted to compose her own, and to
-make herself agreeable to all; and in the latter object, where she
-feared most to fail, she was most sure of success, for those to whom
-she endeavoured to give pleasure were pre-possessed in her favour.
-Bingley was ready, Georgiana was eager, and Darcy determined, to be
-pleased.
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “To make herself agreeable to all”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-In seeing Bingley, her thoughts naturally flew to her sister; and oh!
-how ardently did she long to know whether any of his were directed in a
-like manner. Sometimes she could fancy that he talked less than on
-former occasions, and once or twice pleased herself with the notion
-that, as he looked at her, he was trying to trace a resemblance. But,
-though this might be imaginary, she could not be deceived as to his
-behaviour to Miss Darcy, who had been set up as a rival to Jane. No
-look appeared on either side that spoke particular regard. Nothing
-occurred between them that could justify the hopes of his sister. On
-this point she was soon satisfied; and two or three little circumstances
-occurred ere they parted, which, in her anxious interpretation, denoted
-a recollection of Jane, not untinctured by tenderness, and a wish of
-saying more that might lead to the mention of her, had he dared. He
-observed to her, at a moment when the others were talking together, and
-in a tone which had something of real regret, that it “was a very long
-time since he had had the pleasure of seeing her;” and, before she could
-reply, he added, “It is above eight months. We have not met since the
-26th of November, when we were all dancing together at Netherfield.”
-
-Elizabeth was pleased to find his memory so exact; and he afterwards
-took occasion to ask her, when unattended to by any of the rest, whether
-_all_ her sisters were at Longbourn. There was not much in the question,
-nor in the preceding remark; but there was a look and a manner which
-gave them meaning.
-
-It was not often that she could turn her eyes on Mr. Darcy himself; but
-whenever she did catch a glimpse she saw an expression of general
-complaisance, and in all that he said, she heard an accent so far
-removed from _hauteur_ or disdain of his companions, as convinced her
-that the improvement of manners which she had yesterday witnessed,
-however temporary its existence might prove, had at least outlived one
-day. When she saw him thus seeking the acquaintance, and courting the
-good opinion of people with whom any intercourse a few months ago would
-have been a disgrace; when she saw him thus civil, not only to herself,
-but to the very relations whom he had openly disdained, and recollected
-their last lively scene in Hunsford Parsonage, the difference, the
-change was so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could
-hardly restrain her astonishment from being visible. Never, even in the
-company of his dear friends at Netherfield, or his dignified relations
-at Rosings, had she seen him so desirous to please, so free from
-self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no importance could
-result from the success of his endeavours, and when even the
-acquaintance of those to whom his attentions were addressed, would draw
-down the ridicule and censure of the ladies both of Netherfield and
-Rosings.
-
-Their visitors stayed with them above half an hour; and when they arose
-to depart, Mr. Darcy called on his sister to join him in expressing
-their wish of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and Miss Bennet, to dinner
-at Pemberley, before they left the country. Miss Darcy, though with a
-diffidence which marked her little in the habit of giving invitations,
-readily obeyed. Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece, desirous of knowing
-how _she_, whom the invitation most concerned, felt disposed as to its
-acceptance, but Elizabeth had turned away her head. Presuming, however,
-that this studied avoidance spoke rather a momentary embarrassment than
-any dislike of the proposal, and seeing in her husband, who was fond of
-society, a perfect willingness to accept it, she ventured to engage for
-her attendance, and the day after the next was fixed on.
-
-Bingley expressed great pleasure in the certainty of seeing Elizabeth
-again, having still a great deal to say to her, and many inquiries to
-make after all their Hertfordshire friends. Elizabeth, construing all
-this into a wish of hearing her speak of her sister, was pleased; and
-on this account, as well as some others, found herself, when their
-visitors left them, capable of considering the last half hour with some
-satisfaction, though while it was passing the enjoyment of it had been
-little. Eager to be alone, and fearful of inquiries or hints from her
-uncle and aunt, she stayed with them only long enough to hear their
-favourable opinion of Bingley, and then hurried away to dress.
-
-But she had no reason to fear Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s curiosity; it was
-not their wish to force her communication. It was evident that she was
-much better acquainted with Mr. Darcy than they had before any idea of;
-it was evident that he was very much in love with her. They saw much to
-interest, but nothing to justify inquiry.
-
-Of Mr. Darcy it was now a matter of anxiety to think well; and, as far
-as their acquaintance reached, there was no fault to find. They could
-not be untouched by his politeness; and had they drawn his character
-from their own feelings and his servant’s report, without any reference
-to any other account, the circle in Hertfordshire to which he was known
-would not have recognized it for Mr. Darcy. There was now an interest,
-however, in believing the housekeeper; and they soon became sensible
-that the authority of a servant, who had known him since he was four
-years old, and whose own manners indicated respectability, was not to be
-hastily rejected. Neither had anything occurred in the intelligence of
-their Lambton friends that could materially lessen its weight. They had
-nothing to accuse him of but pride; pride he probably had, and if not,
-it would certainly be imputed by the inhabitants of a small market town
-where the family did not visit. It was acknowledged, however, that he
-was a liberal man, and did much good among the poor.
-
-With respect to Wickham, the travellers soon found that he was not held
-there in much estimation; for though the chief of his concerns with the
-son of his patron were imperfectly understood, it was yet a well-known
-fact that, on his quitting Derbyshire, he had left many debts behind
-him, which Mr. Darcy afterwards discharged.
-
-As for Elizabeth, her thoughts were at Pemberley this evening more than
-the last; and the evening, though as it passed it seemed long, was not
-long enough to determine her feelings towards _one_ in that mansion; and
-she lay awake two whole hours, endeavouring to make them out. She
-certainly did not hate him. No; hatred had vanished long ago, and she
-had almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against him,
-that could be so called. The respect created by the conviction of his
-valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some
-time ceased to be repugnant to her feelings; and it was now heightened
-into somewhat of a friendlier nature by the testimony so highly in his
-favour, and bringing forward his disposition in so amiable a light,
-which yesterday had produced. But above all, above respect and esteem,
-there was a motive within her of good-will which could not be
-overlooked. It was gratitude;--gratitude, not merely for having once
-loved her, but for loving her still well enough to forgive all the
-petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and all the
-unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. He who, she had been
-persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy, seemed, on this
-accidental meeting, most eager to preserve the acquaintance; and
-without any indelicate display of regard, or any peculiarity of manner,
-where their two selves only were concerned, was soliciting the good
-opinion of her friends, and bent on making her known to his sister. Such
-a change in a man of so much pride excited not only astonishment but
-gratitude--for to love, ardent love, it must be attributed; and, as
-such, its impression on her was of a sort to be encouraged, as by no
-means unpleasing, though it could not be exactly defined. She respected,
-she esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt a real interest in his
-welfare; and she only wanted to know how far she wished that welfare to
-depend upon herself, and how far it would be for the happiness of both
-that she should employ the power, which her fancy told her she still
-possessed, of bringing on the renewal of his addresses.
-
-It had been settled in the evening, between the aunt and niece, that
-such a striking civility as Miss Darcy’s, in coming to them on the very
-day of her arrival at Pemberley--for she had reached it only to a late
-breakfast--ought to be imitated, though it could not be equalled, by
-some exertion of politeness on their side; and, consequently, that it
-would be highly expedient to wait on her at Pemberley the following
-morning. They were, therefore, to go. Elizabeth was pleased; though when
-she asked herself the reason, she had very little to say in reply.
-
-Mr. Gardiner left them soon after breakfast. The fishing scheme had been
-renewed the day before, and a positive engagement made of his meeting
-some of the gentlemen at Pemberley by noon.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “Engaged by the river”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XLV.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Convinced as Elizabeth now was that Miss Bingley’s dislike of her had
-originated in jealousy, she could not help feeling how very unwelcome
-her appearance at Pemberley must be to her, and was curious to know
-with how much civility on that lady’s side the acquaintance would now
-be renewed.
-
-On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into the saloon,
-whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for summer. Its windows,
-opening to the ground, admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody
-hills behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts
-which were scattered over the intermediate lawn.
-
-In this room they were received by Miss Darcy, who was sitting there
-with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and the lady with whom she lived in
-London. Georgiana’s reception of them was very civil, but attended with
-all that embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness and the
-fear of doing wrong, would easily give to those who felt themselves
-inferior the belief of her being proud and reserved. Mrs. Gardiner and
-her niece, however, did her justice, and pitied her.
-
-By Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley they were noticed only by a courtesy; and
-on their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always be,
-succeeded for a few moments. It was first broken by Mrs. Annesley, a
-genteel, agreeable-looking woman, whose endeavour to introduce some kind
-of discourse proved her to be more truly well-bred than either of the
-others; and between her and Mrs. Gardiner, with occasional help from
-Elizabeth, the conversation was carried on. Miss Darcy looked as if she
-wished for courage enough to join in it; and sometimes did venture a
-short sentence, when there was least danger of its being heard.
-
-Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely watched by Miss Bingley,
-and that she could not speak a word, especially to Miss Darcy, without
-calling her attention. This observation would not have prevented her
-from trying to talk to the latter, had they not been seated at an
-inconvenient distance; but she was not sorry to be spared the necessity
-of saying much: her own thoughts were employing her. She expected every
-moment that some of the gentlemen would enter the room: she wished, she
-feared, that the master of the house might be amongst them; and whether
-she wished or feared it most, she could scarcely determine. After
-sitting in this manner a quarter of an hour, without hearing Miss
-Bingley’s voice, Elizabeth was roused by receiving from her a cold
-inquiry after the health of her family. She answered with equal
-indifference and brevity, and the other said no more.
-
-The next variation which their visit afforded was produced by the
-entrance of servants with cold meat, cake, and a variety of all the
-finest fruits in season; but this did not take place till after many a
-significant look and smile from Mrs. Annesley to Miss Darcy had been
-given, to remind her of her post. There was now employment for the whole
-party; for though they could not all talk, they could all eat; and the
-beautiful pyramids of grapes, nectarines, and peaches, soon collected
-them round the table.
-
-While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity of deciding whether
-she most feared or wished for the appearance of Mr. Darcy, by the
-feelings which prevailed on his entering the room; and then, though but
-a moment before she had believed her wishes to predominate, she began to
-regret that he came.
-
-He had been some time with Mr. Gardiner, who, with two or three other
-gentlemen from the house, was engaged by the river; and had left him
-only on learning that the ladies of the family intended a visit to
-Georgiana that morning. No sooner did he appear, than Elizabeth wisely
-resolved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed;--a resolution the more
-necessary to be made, but perhaps not the more easily kept, because she
-saw that the suspicions of the whole party were awakened against them,
-and that there was scarcely an eye which did not watch his behaviour
-when he first came into the room. In no countenance was attentive
-curiosity so strongly marked as in Miss Bingley’s, in spite of the
-smiles which overspread her face whenever she spoke to one of its
-objects; for jealousy had not yet made her desperate, and her attentions
-to Mr. Darcy were by no means over. Miss Darcy, on her brother’s
-entrance, exerted herself much more to talk; and Elizabeth saw that he
-was anxious for his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded,
-as much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side. Miss
-Bingley saw all this likewise; and, in the imprudence of anger, took the
-first opportunity of saying, with sneering civility,--
-
-“Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the ----shire militia removed from Meryton?
-They must be a great loss to _your_ family.”
-
-In Darcy’s presence she dared not mention Wickham’s name: but Elizabeth
-instantly comprehended that he was uppermost in her thoughts; and the
-various recollections connected with him gave her a moment’s distress;
-but, exerting herself vigorously to repel the ill-natured attack, she
-presently answered the question in a tolerably disengaged tone. While
-she spoke, an involuntary glance showed her Darcy with a heightened
-complexion, earnestly looking at her, and his sister overcome with
-confusion, and unable to lift up her eyes. Had Miss Bingley known what
-pain she was then giving her beloved friend, she undoubtedly would have
-refrained from the hint; but she had merely intended to discompose
-Elizabeth, by bringing forward the idea of a man to whom she believed
-her partial, to make her betray a sensibility which might injure her in
-Darcy’s opinion, and, perhaps, to remind the latter of all the follies
-and absurdities by which some part of her family were connected with
-that corps. Not a syllable had ever reached her of Miss Darcy’s
-meditated elopement. To no creature had it been revealed, where secrecy
-was possible, except to Elizabeth; and from all Bingley’s connections
-her brother was particularly anxious to conceal it, from that very wish
-which Elizabeth had long ago attributed to him, of their becoming
-hereafter her own. He had certainly formed such a plan; and without
-meaning that it should affect his endeavour to separate him from Miss
-Bennet, it is probable that it might add something to his lively concern
-for the welfare of his friend.
-
-Elizabeth’s collected behaviour, however, soon quieted his emotion; and
-as Miss Bingley, vexed and disappointed, dared not approach nearer to
-Wickham, Georgiana also recovered in time, though not enough to be able
-to speak any more. Her brother, whose eye she feared to meet, scarcely
-recollected her interest in the affair; and the very circumstance which
-had been designed to turn his thoughts from Elizabeth, seemed to have
-fixed them on her more and more cheerfully.
-
-Their visit did not continue long after the question and answer above
-mentioned; and while Mr. Darcy was attending them to their carriage,
-Miss Bingley was venting her feelings in criticisms on Elizabeth’s
-person, behaviour, and dress. But Georgiana would not join her. Her
-brother’s recommendation was enough to insure her favour: his judgment
-could not err; and he had spoken in such terms of Elizabeth, as to leave
-Georgiana without the power of finding her otherwise than lovely and
-amiable. When Darcy returned to the saloon, Miss Bingley could not help
-repeating to him some part of what she had been saying to his sister.
-
-“How very ill Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy,” she cried: “I
-never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she is since the winter.
-She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we
-should not have known her again.”
-
-However little Mr. Darcy might have liked such an address, he contented
-himself with coolly replying, that he perceived no other alteration than
-her being rather tanned,--no miraculous consequence of travelling in the
-summer.
-
-“For my own part,” she rejoined, “I must confess that I never could see
-any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no
-brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants
-character; there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are
-tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which
-have sometimes been called so fine, I never could perceive anything
-extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not
-like at all; and in her air altogether, there is a self-sufficiency
-without fashion, which is intolerable.”
-
-Persuaded as Miss Bingley was that Darcy admired Elizabeth, this was not
-the best method of recommending herself; but angry people are not always
-wise; and in seeing him at last look somewhat nettled, she had all the
-success she expected. He was resolutely silent, however; and, from a
-determination of making him speak, she continued,--
-
-“I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all
-were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect
-your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, ‘_She_
-a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit.’ But afterwards she
-seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at
-one time.”
-
-“Yes,” replied Darcy, who could contain himself no longer, “but _that_
-was only when I first knew her; for it is many months since I have
-considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.”
-
-He then went away, and Miss Bingley was left to all the satisfaction of
-having forced him to say what gave no one any pain but herself.
-
-Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth talked of all that had occurred during their
-visit, as they returned, except what had particularly interested them
-both. The looks and behaviour of everybody they had seen were discussed,
-except of the person who had mostly engaged their attention. They talked
-of his sister, his friends, his house, his fruit, of everything but
-himself; yet Elizabeth was longing to know what Mrs. Gardiner thought of
-him, and Mrs. Gardiner would have been highly gratified by her niece’s
-beginning the subject.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-Chapter XLVI.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Elizabeth had been a good deal disappointed in not finding a letter from
-Jane on their first arrival at Lambton; and this disappointment had been
-renewed on each of the mornings that had now been spent there; but on
-the third her repining was over, and her sister justified, by the
-receipt of two letters from her at once, on one of which was marked that
-it had been mis-sent elsewhere. Elizabeth was not surprised at it, as
-Jane had written the direction remarkably ill.
-
-They had just been preparing to walk as the letters came in; and her
-uncle and aunt, leaving her to enjoy them in quiet, set off by
-themselves. The one mis-sent must be first attended to; it had been
-written five days ago. The beginning contained an account of all their
-little parties and engagements, with such news as the country afforded;
-but the latter half, which was dated a day later, and written in evident
-agitation, gave more important intelligence. It was to this effect:--
-
-“Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has occurred of a
-most unexpected and serious nature; but I am afraid of alarming you--be
-assured that we are all well. What I have to say relates to poor Lydia.
-An express came at twelve last night, just as we were all gone to bed,
-from Colonel Forster, to inform us that she was gone off to Scotland
-with one of his officers; to own the truth, with Wickham! Imagine our
-surprise. To Kitty, however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. I am
-very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both sides! But I am willing
-to hope the best, and that his character has been misunderstood.
-Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe him, but this step (and
-let us rejoice over it) marks nothing bad at heart. His choice is
-disinterested at least, for he must know my father can give her nothing.
-Our poor mother is sadly grieved. My father bears it better. How
-thankful am I, that we never let them know what has been said against
-him; we must forget it ourselves. They were off Saturday night about
-twelve, as is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning at
-eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they must have
-passed within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives us reason to expect
-him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for his wife, informing her of
-their intention. I must conclude, for I cannot be long from my poor
-mother. I am afraid you will not be able to make it out, but I hardly
-know what I have written.”
-
-Without allowing herself time for consideration, and scarcely knowing
-what she felt, Elizabeth, on finishing this letter, instantly seized the
-other, and opening it with the utmost impatience, read as follows: it
-had been written a day later than the conclusion of the first.
-
-“By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried letter; I
-wish this may be more intelligible, but though not confined for time, my
-head is so bewildered that I cannot answer for being coherent. Dearest
-Lizzy, I hardly know what I would write, but I have bad news for you,
-and it cannot be delayed. Imprudent as a marriage between Mr. Wickham
-and our poor Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured it has
-taken place, for there is but too much reason to fear they are not gone
-to Scotland. Colonel Forster came yesterday, having left Brighton the
-day before, not many hours after the express. Though Lydia’s short
-letter to Mrs. F. gave them to understand that they were going to Gretna
-Green, something was dropped by Denny expressing his belief that W.
-never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all, which was repeated
-to Colonel F., who, instantly taking the alarm, set off from B.,
-intending to trace their route. He did trace them easily to Clapham, but
-no farther; for on entering that place, they removed into a
-hackney-coach, and dismissed the chaise that brought them from Epsom.
-All that is known after this is, that they were seen to continue the
-London road. I know not what to think. After making every possible
-inquiry on that side of London, Colonel F. came on into Hertfordshire,
-anxiously renewing them at all the turnpikes, and at the inns in Barnet
-and Hatfield, but without any success,--no such people had been seen to
-pass through. With the kindest concern he came on to Longbourn, and
-broke his apprehensions to us in a manner most creditable to his heart.
-I am sincerely grieved for him and Mrs. F.; but no one can throw any
-blame on them. Our distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. My father and
-mother believe the worst, but I cannot think so ill of him. Many
-circumstances might make it more eligible for them to be married
-privately in town than to pursue their first plan; and even if _he_
-could form such a design against a young woman of Lydia’s connections,
-which is not likely, can I suppose her so lost to everything?
-Impossible! I grieve to find, however, that Colonel F. is not disposed
-to depend upon their marriage: he shook his head when I expressed my
-hopes, and said he feared W. was not a man to be trusted. My poor mother
-is really ill, and keeps her room. Could she exert herself, it would be
-better, but this is not to be expected; and as to my father, I never in
-my life saw him so affected. Poor Kitty has anger for having concealed
-their attachment; but as it was a matter of confidence, one cannot
-wonder. I am truly glad, dearest Lizzy, that you have been spared
-something of these distressing scenes; but now, as the first shock is
-over, shall I own that I long for your return? I am not so selfish,
-however, as to press for it, if inconvenient. Adieu! I take up my pen
-again to do, what I have just told you I would not; but circumstances
-are such, that I cannot help earnestly begging you all to come here as
-soon as possible. I know my dear uncle and aunt so well, that I am not
-afraid of requesting it, though I have still something more to ask of
-the former. My father is going to London with Colonel Forster instantly,
-to try to discover her. What he means to do, I am sure I know not; but
-his excessive distress will not allow him to pursue any measure in the
-best and safest way, and Colonel Forster is obliged to be at Brighton
-again to-morrow evening. In such an exigence my uncle’s advice and
-assistance would be everything in the world; he will immediately
-comprehend what I must feel, and I rely upon his goodness.”
-
-“Oh! where, where is my uncle?” cried Elizabeth, darting from her seat
-as she finished the letter, in eagerness to follow him, without losing a
-moment of the time so precious; but as she reached the door, it was
-opened by a servant, and Mr. Darcy appeared. Her pale face and
-impetuous manner made him start, and before he could recover himself
-enough to speak, she, in whose mind every idea was superseded by Lydia’s
-situation, hastily exclaimed, “I beg your pardon, but I must leave you.
-I must find Mr. Gardiner this moment on business that cannot be delayed;
-I have not an instant to lose.”
-
-“Good God! what is the matter?” cried he, with more feeling than
-politeness; then recollecting himself, “I will not detain you a minute;
-but let me, or let the servant, go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. You are
-not well enough; you cannot go yourself.”
-
-Elizabeth hesitated; but her knees trembled under her, and she felt how
-little would be gained by her attempting to pursue them. Calling back
-the servant, therefore, she commissioned him, though in so breathless an
-accent as made her almost unintelligible, to fetch his master and
-mistress home instantly.
-
-On his quitting the room, she sat down, unable to support herself, and
-looking so miserably ill, that it was impossible for Darcy to leave her,
-or to refrain from saying, in a tone of gentleness and commiseration,
-“Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take to give you
-present relief? A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill.”
-
-“No, I thank you,” she replied, endeavouring to recover herself. “There
-is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well, I am only distressed by
-some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn.”
-
-She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a few minutes could
-not speak another word. Darcy, in wretched suspense, could only say
-something indistinctly of his
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “I have not an instant to lose”
-]
-
-concern, and observe her in compassionate silence. At length she spoke
-again. “I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It
-cannot be concealed from anyone. My youngest sister has left all her
-friends--has eloped; has thrown herself into the power of--of Mr.
-Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. _You_ know him too
-well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that
-can tempt him to--she is lost for ever.”
-
-Darcy was fixed in astonishment.
-
-“When I consider,” she added, in a yet more agitated voice, “that _I_
-might have prevented it! _I_ who knew what he was. Had I but explained
-some part of it only--some part of what I learnt, to my own family! Had
-his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all,
-all too late now.”
-
-“I am grieved, indeed,” cried Darcy: “grieved--shocked. But is it
-certain, absolutely certain?”
-
-“Oh, yes! They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced
-almost to London, but not beyond: they are certainly not gone to
-Scotland.”
-
-“And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?”
-
-“My father has gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle’s
-immediate assistance, and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour. But
-nothing can be done; I know very well that nothing can be done. How is
-such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have
-not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!”
-
-Darcy shook his head in silent acquiescence.
-
-“When _my_ eyes were opened to his real character, oh! had I known what
-I ought, what I dared to do! But I knew not--I was afraid of doing too
-much. Wretched, wretched mistake!”
-
-Darcy made no answer. He seemed scarcely to hear her, and was walking up
-and down the room in earnest meditation; his brow contracted, his air
-gloomy. Elizabeth soon observed, and instantly understood it. Her power
-was sinking; everything _must_ sink under such a proof of family
-weakness, such an assurance of the deepest disgrace. She could neither
-wonder nor condemn; but the belief of his self-conquest brought nothing
-consolatory to her bosom, afforded no palliation of her distress. It
-was, on the contrary, exactly calculated to make her understand her own
-wishes; and never had she so honestly felt that she could have loved
-him, as now, when all love must be vain.
-
-But self, though it would intrude, could not engross her. Lydia--the
-humiliation, the misery she was bringing on them all--soon swallowed up
-every private care; and covering her face with her handkerchief,
-Elizabeth was soon lost to everything else; and, after a pause of
-several minutes, was only recalled to a sense of her situation by the
-voice of her companion, who, in a manner which, though it spoke
-compassion, spoke likewise restraint, said,--
-
-“I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything
-to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing concern.
-Would to Heaven that anything could be either said or done on my part,
-that might offer consolation to such distress! But I will not torment
-you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks.
-This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister’s having the
-pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley to-day.”
-
-“Oh, yes! Be so kind as to apologize for us to Miss Darcy. Say that
-urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as
-long as it is possible. I know it cannot be long.”
-
-He readily assured her of his secrecy, again expressed his sorrow for
-her distress, wished it a happier conclusion than there was at present
-reason to hope, and, leaving his compliments for her relations, with
-only one serious parting look, went away.
-
-As he quitted the room, Elizabeth felt how improbable it was that they
-should ever see each other again on such terms of cordiality as had
-marked their several meetings in Derbyshire; and as she threw a
-retrospective glance over the whole of their acquaintance, so full of
-contradictions and varieties, sighed at the perverseness of those
-feelings which would now have promoted its continuance, and would
-formerly have rejoiced in its termination.
-
-If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection, Elizabeth’s
-change of sentiment will be neither improbable nor faulty. But if
-otherwise, if the regard springing from such sources is unreasonable or
-unnatural, in comparison of what is so often described as arising on a
-first interview with its object, and even before two words have been
-exchanged, nothing can be said in her defence, except that she had given
-somewhat of a trial to the latter method, in her partiality for Wickham,
-and that its ill success might, perhaps, authorize her to seek the other
-less interesting mode of attachment. Be that as it may, she saw him go
-with regret; and in this early example of what Lydia’s infamy must
-produce, found additional anguish as she reflected on that wretched
-business. Never since reading Jane’s second letter had she entertained a
-hope of Wickham’s meaning to marry her. No one but Jane, she thought,
-could flatter herself with such an expectation. Surprise was the least
-of all her feelings on this development. While the contents of the first
-letter remained on her mind, she was all surprise, all astonishment,
-that Wickham should marry a girl whom it was impossible he could marry
-for money; and how Lydia could ever have attached him had appeared
-incomprehensible. But now it was all too natural. For such an attachment
-as this, she might have sufficient charms; and though she did not
-suppose Lydia to be deliberately engaging in an elopement, without the
-intention of marriage, she had no difficulty in believing that neither
-her virtue nor her understanding would preserve her from falling an easy
-prey.
-
-She had never perceived, while the regiment was in Hertfordshire, that
-Lydia had any partiality for him; but she was convinced that Lydia had
-wanted only encouragement to attach herself to anybody. Sometimes one
-officer, sometimes another, had been her favourite, as their attentions
-raised them in her opinion. Her affections had been continually
-fluctuating, but never without an object. The mischief of neglect and
-mistaken indulgence towards such a girl--oh! how acutely did she now
-feel it!
-
-She was wild to be at home--to hear, to see, to be upon the spot to
-share with Jane in the cares that must now fall wholly upon her, in a
-family so deranged; a father absent, a mother incapable of exertion, and
-requiring constant attendance; and though almost persuaded that nothing
-could be done for Lydia, her uncle’s interference seemed of the utmost
-importance, and till he entered the room the misery of her impatience
-was severe. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had hurried back in alarm, supposing,
-by the servant’s account, that their niece was taken suddenly ill; but
-satisfying them instantly on that head, she eagerly communicated the
-cause of their summons, reading the two letters aloud, and dwelling on
-the postscript of the last with trembling energy. Though Lydia had never
-been a favourite with them, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner could not but be
-deeply affected. Not Lydia only, but all were concerned in it; and after
-the first exclamations of surprise and horror, Mr. Gardiner readily
-promised every assistance in his power. Elizabeth, though expecting no
-less, thanked him with tears of gratitude; and all three being actuated
-by one spirit, everything relating to their journey was speedily
-settled. They were to be off as soon as possible. “But what is to be
-done about Pemberley?” cried Mrs. Gardiner. “John told us Mr. Darcy was
-here when you sent for us;--was it so?”
-
-“Yes; and I told him we should not be able to keep our engagement.
-_That_ is all settled.”
-
-“What is all settled?” repeated the other, as she ran into her room to
-prepare. “And are they upon such terms as for her to disclose the real
-truth? Oh, that I knew how it was!”
-
-But wishes were vain; or, at best, could serve only to amuse her in the
-hurry and confusion of the following hour. Had Elizabeth been at leisure
-to be idle, she would have remained certain that all employment was
-impossible to one so wretched as herself; but she had her share of
-business as well as her aunt, and amongst the rest there were notes to
-be written to all their friends at Lambton, with false excuses for their
-sudden departure. An hour, however, saw the whole completed; and Mr.
-Gardiner, meanwhile, having settled his account at the inn, nothing
-remained to be done but to go; and Elizabeth, after all the misery of
-the morning, found herself, in a shorter space of time than she could
-have supposed, seated in the carriage, and on the road to Longbourn.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “The first pleasing earnest of their welcome”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XLVII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-“I have been thinking it over again, Elizabeth,” said her uncle, as they
-drove from the town; “and really, upon serious consideration, I am much
-more inclined than I was to judge as your eldest sister does of the
-matter. It appears to me so very unlikely that any young man should form
-such a design against a girl who is by no means unprotected or
-friendless, and who was actually staying in his Colonel’s family, that I
-am strongly inclined to hope the best. Could he expect that her friends
-would not step forward? Could he expect to be noticed again by the
-regiment, after such an affront to Colonel Forster? His temptation is
-not adequate to the risk.”
-
-“Do you really think so?” cried Elizabeth, brightening up for a moment.
-
-“Upon my word,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “I begin to be of your uncle’s
-opinion. It is really too great a violation of decency, honour, and
-interest, for him to be guilty of it. I cannot think so very ill of
-Wickham. Can you, yourself, Lizzie, so wholly give him up, as to believe
-him capable of it?”
-
-“Not perhaps of neglecting his own interest. But of every other neglect
-I can believe him capable. If, indeed, it should be so! But I dare not
-hope it. Why should they not go on to Scotland, if that had been the
-case?”
-
-“In the first place,” replied Mr. Gardiner, “there is no absolute proof
-that they are not gone to Scotland.”
-
-“Oh, but their removing from the chaise into a hackney coach is such a
-presumption! And, besides, no traces of them were to be found on the
-Barnet road.”
-
-“Well, then,--supposing them to be in London--they may be there, though
-for the purpose of concealment, for no more exceptionable purpose. It is
-not likely that money should be very abundant on either side; and it
-might strike them that they could be more economically, though less
-expeditiously, married in London, than in Scotland.”
-
-“But why all this secrecy? Why any fear of detection? Why must their
-marriage be private? Oh, no, no--this is not likely. His most particular
-friend, you see by Jane’s account, was persuaded of his never intending
-to marry her. Wickham will never marry a woman without some money. He
-cannot afford it. And what claims has Lydia, what attractions has she
-beyond youth, health, and good humour, that could make him for her sake
-forego every chance of benefiting himself by marrying well? As to what
-restraint the apprehensions of disgrace in the corps might throw on a
-dishonourable elopement with her, I am not able to judge; for I know
-nothing of the effects that such a step might produce. But as to your
-other objection, I am afraid it will hardly hold good. Lydia has no
-brothers to step forward; and he might imagine, from my father’s
-behaviour, from his indolence and the little attention he has ever
-seemed to give to what was going forward in his family, that _he_ would
-do as little and think as little about it, as any father could do, in
-such a matter.”
-
-“But can you think that Lydia is so lost to everything but love of him,
-as to consent to live with him on any other terms than marriage?”
-
-“It does seem, and it is most shocking, indeed,” replied Elizabeth, with
-tears in her eyes, “that a sister’s sense of decency and virtue in such
-a point should admit of doubt. But, really, I know not what to say.
-Perhaps I am not doing her justice. But she is very young: she has never
-been taught to think on serious subjects; and for the last half year,
-nay, for a twelvemonth, she has been given up to nothing but amusement
-and vanity. She has been allowed to dispose of her time in the most idle
-and frivolous manner, and to adopt any opinions that came in her way.
-Since the ----shire were first quartered in Meryton, nothing but love,
-flirtation, and officers, have been in her head. She has been doing
-everything in her power, by thinking and talking on the subject, to give
-greater--what shall I call it?--susceptibility to her feelings; which
-are naturally lively enough. And we all know that Wickham has every
-charm of person and address that can captivate a woman.”
-
-“But you see that Jane,” said her aunt, “does not think so ill of
-Wickham, as to believe him capable of the attempt.”
-
-“Of whom does Jane ever think ill? And who is there, whatever might be
-their former conduct, that she would believe capable of such an attempt,
-till it were proved against them? But Jane knows, as well as I do, what
-Wickham really is. We both know that he has been profligate in every
-sense of the word; that he has neither integrity nor honour; that he is
-as false and deceitful as he is insinuating.”
-
-“And do you really know all this?” cried Mrs. Gardiner, whose curiosity
-as to the mode of her intelligence was all alive.
-
-“I do, indeed,” replied Elizabeth, colouring. “I told you the other day
-of his infamous behaviour to Mr. Darcy; and you, yourself, when last at
-Longbourn, heard in what manner he spoke of the man who had behaved with
-such forbearance and liberality towards him. And there are other
-circumstances which I am not at liberty--which it is not worth while to
-relate; but his lies about the whole Pemberley family are endless. From
-what he said of Miss Darcy, I was thoroughly prepared to see a proud,
-reserved, disagreeable girl. Yet he knew to the contrary himself. He
-must know that she was as amiable and unpretending as we have found
-her.”
-
-“But does Lydia know nothing of this? can she be ignorant of what you
-and Jane seem so well to understand?”
-
-“Oh, yes!--that, that is the worst of all. Till I was in Kent, and saw
-so much both of Mr. Darcy and his relation Colonel Fitzwilliam, I was
-ignorant of the truth myself. And when I returned home the ----shire
-was to leave Meryton in a week or fortnight’s time. As that was the
-case, neither Jane, to whom I related the whole, nor I, thought it
-necessary to make our knowledge public; for of what use could it
-apparently be to anyone, that the good opinion, which all the
-neighbourhood had of him, should then be overthrown? And even when it
-was settled that Lydia should go with Mrs. Forster, the necessity of
-opening her eyes to his character never occurred to me. That _she_ could
-be in any danger from the deception never entered my head. That such a
-consequence as _this_ should ensue, you may easily believe was far
-enough from my thoughts.”
-
-“When they all removed to Brighton, therefore, you had no reason, I
-suppose, to believe them fond of each other?”
-
-“Not the slightest. I can remember no symptom of affection on either
-side; and had anything of the kind been perceptible, you must be aware
-that ours is not a family on which it could be thrown away. When first
-he entered the corps, she was ready enough to admire him; but so we all
-were. Every girl in or near Meryton was out of her senses about him for
-the first two months: but he never distinguished _her_ by any particular
-attention; and, consequently, after a moderate period of extravagant and
-wild admiration, her fancy for him gave way, and others of the regiment,
-who treated her with more distinction, again became her favourites.”
-
-It may be easily believed, that however little of novelty could be added
-to their fears, hopes, and conjectures, on this interesting subject by
-its repeated discussion, no other could detain them from it long, during
-the whole of the journey. From Elizabeth’s thoughts it was never absent.
-Fixed there by the keenest of all anguish, self-reproach, she could
-find no interval of ease or forgetfulness.
-
-They travelled as expeditiously as possible; and sleeping one night on
-the road, reached Longbourn by dinnertime the next day. It was a comfort
-to Elizabeth to consider that Jane could not have been wearied by long
-expectations.
-
-The little Gardiners, attracted by the sight of a chaise, were standing
-on the steps of the house, as they entered the paddock; and when the
-carriage drove up to the door, the joyful surprise that lighted up their
-faces and displayed itself over their whole bodies, in a variety of
-capers and frisks, was the first pleasing earnest of their welcome.
-
-Elizabeth jumped out; and after giving each of them a hasty kiss,
-hurried into the vestibule, where Jane, who came running downstairs from
-her mother’s apartment, immediately met her.
-
-Elizabeth, as she affectionately embraced her, whilst tears filled the
-eyes of both, lost not a moment in asking whether anything had been
-heard of the fugitives.
-
-“Not yet,” replied Jane. “But now that my dear uncle is come, I hope
-everything will be well.”
-
-“Is my father in town?”
-
-“Yes, he went on Tuesday, as I wrote you word.”
-
-“And have you heard from him often?”
-
-“We have heard only once. He wrote me a few lines on Wednesday, to say
-that he had arrived in safety, and to give me his directions, which I
-particularly begged him to do. He merely added, that he should not write
-again, till he had something of importance to mention.”
-
-“And my mother--how is she? How are you all?”
-
-“My mother is tolerably well, I trust; though her spirits are greatly
-shaken. She is upstairs, and will have great satisfaction in seeing you
-all. She does not yet leave her dressing-room. Mary and Kitty, thank
-Heaven! are quite well.”
-
-“But you--how are you?” cried Elizabeth. “You look pale. How much you
-must have gone through!”
-
-Her sister, however, assured her of her being perfectly well; and their
-conversation, which had been passing while Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were
-engaged with their children, was now put an end to by the approach of
-the whole party. Jane ran to her uncle and aunt, and welcomed and
-thanked them both, with alternate smiles and tears.
-
-When they were all in the drawing-room, the questions which Elizabeth
-had already asked were of course repeated by the others, and they soon
-found that Jane had no intelligence to give. The sanguine hope of good,
-however, which the benevolence of her heart suggested, had not yet
-deserted her; she still expected that it would all end well, and that
-every morning would bring some letter, either from Lydia or her father,
-to explain their proceedings, and, perhaps, announce the marriage.
-
-Mrs. Bennet, to whose apartment they all repaired, after a few minutes’
-conversation together, received them exactly as might be expected; with
-tears and lamentations of regret, invectives against the villainous
-conduct of Wickham, and complaints of her own sufferings and ill-usage;
-blaming everybody but the person to whose ill-judging indulgence the
-errors of her daughter must be principally owing.
-
-“If I had been able,” said she, “to carry my point in going to Brighton
-with all my family, _this_ would not have happened: but poor dear Lydia
-had nobody to take care of her. Why did the Forsters ever let her go out
-of their sight? I am sure there was some great neglect or other on their
-side, for she is not the kind of girl to do such a thing, if she had
-been well looked after. I always thought they were very unfit to have
-the charge of her; but I was over-ruled, as I always am. Poor, dear
-child! And now here’s Mr. Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight
-Wickham, wherever he meets him, and then he will be killed, and what is
-to become of us all? The Collinses will turn us out, before he is cold
-in his grave; and if you are not kind to us, brother, I do not know what
-we shall do.”
-
-They all exclaimed against such terrific ideas; and Mr. Gardiner, after
-general assurances of his affection for her and all her family, told her
-that he meant to be in London the very next day, and would assist Mr.
-Bennet in every endeavour for recovering Lydia.
-
-“Do not give way to useless alarm,” added he: “though it is right to be
-prepared for the worst, there is no occasion to look on it as certain.
-It is not quite a week since they left Brighton. In a few days more, we
-may gain some news of them; and till we know that they are not married,
-and have no design of marrying, do not let us give the matter over as
-lost. As soon as I get to town, I shall go to my brother, and make him
-come home with me to Gracechurch Street, and then we may consult
-together as to what is to be done.”
-
-“Oh, my dear brother,” replied Mrs. Bennet, “that is exactly what I
-could most wish for. And now do, when you get to town, find them out,
-wherever they may be; and if they are not married already, _make_ them
-marry. And as for wedding clothes, do not let them wait for that, but
-tell Lydia she shall have as much money as she chooses to buy them,
-after they are married. And, above all things, keep Mr. Bennet from
-fighting. Tell him what a dreadful state I am in--that I am frightened
-out of my wits; and have such tremblings, such flutterings all over me,
-such spasms in my side, and pains in my head, and such beatings at my
-heart, that I can get no rest by night nor by day. And tell my dear
-Lydia not to give any directions about her clothes till she has seen me,
-for she does not know which are the best warehouses. Oh, brother, how
-kind you are! I know you will contrive it all.”
-
-But Mr. Gardiner, though he assured her again of his earnest endeavours
-in the cause, could not avoid recommending moderation to her, as well in
-her hopes as her fears; and after talking with her in this manner till
-dinner was on table, they left her to vent all her feelings on the
-housekeeper, who attended in the absence of her daughters.
-
-Though her brother and sister were persuaded that there was no real
-occasion for such a seclusion from the family, they did not attempt to
-oppose it; for they knew that she had not prudence enough to hold her
-tongue before the servants, while they waited at table, and judged it
-better that _one_ only of the household, and the one whom they could
-most trust, should comprehend all her fears and solicitude on the
-subject.
-
-In the dining-room they were soon joined by Mary and Kitty, who had been
-too busily engaged in their separate apartments to make their appearance
-before. One came from her books, and the other from her toilette. The
-faces of both, however, were tolerably calm; and no change was visible
-in either, except that the loss of her favourite sister, or the anger
-which she had herself incurred in the business, had given something more
-of fretfulness than usual to the accents of Kitty. As for Mary, she was
-mistress enough of herself to whisper to Elizabeth, with a countenance
-of grave reflection, soon after they were seated at table,--
-
-“This is a most unfortunate affair, and will probably be much talked of.
-But we must stem the tide of malice, and pour into the wounded bosoms of
-each other the balm of sisterly consolation.”
-
-Then perceiving in Elizabeth no inclination of replying, she added,
-“Unhappy as the event must be for Lydia, we may draw from it this useful
-lesson:--that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable, that one
-false step involves her in endless ruin, that her reputation is no less
-brittle than it is beautiful, and that she cannot be too much guarded in
-her behaviour towards the undeserving of the other sex.”
-
-Elizabeth lifted up her eyes in amazement, but was too much oppressed to
-make any reply. Mary, however, continued to console herself with such
-kind of moral extractions from the evil before them.
-
-In the afternoon, the two elder Miss Bennets were able to be for half an
-hour by themselves; and Elizabeth instantly availed herself of the
-opportunity of making any inquiries which Jane was equally eager to
-satisfy. After joining in general lamentations over the dreadful sequel
-of this event, which Elizabeth considered as all but certain, and Miss
-Bennet could not assert to be wholly impossible, the former continued
-the subject by saying, “But tell me all and everything about it which I
-have not already heard. Give me further particulars. What did Colonel
-Forster say? Had they no apprehension of anything before the elopement
-took place? They must have seen them together for ever.”
-
-“Colonel Forster did own that he had often suspected some partiality,
-especially on Lydia’s side, but nothing to give him any alarm. I am so
-grieved for him. His behaviour was attentive and kind to the utmost. He
-_was_ coming to us, in order to assure us of his concern, before he had
-any idea of their not being gone to Scotland: when that apprehension
-first got abroad, it hastened his journey.”
-
-“And was Denny convinced that Wickham would not marry? Did he know of
-their intending to go off? Had Colonel Forster seen Denny himself?”
-
-“Yes; but when questioned by _him_, Denny denied knowing anything of
-their plan, and would not give his real opinion about it. He did not
-repeat his persuasion of their not marrying, and from _that_ I am
-inclined to hope he might have been misunderstood before.”
-
-“And till Colonel Forster came himself, not one of you entertained a
-doubt, I suppose, of their being really married?”
-
-“How was it possible that such an idea should enter our brains? I felt a
-little uneasy--a little fearful of my sister’s happiness with him in
-marriage, because I knew that his conduct had not been always quite
-right. My father and mother knew nothing of that; they only felt how
-imprudent a match it must be. Kitty then owned, with a very natural
-triumph on knowing more than the rest of us, that in Lydia’s last letter
-she had prepared her for such a step. She had known, it seems, of their
-being in love with each other many weeks.”
-
-“But not before they went to Brighton?”
-
-“No, I believe not.”
-
-“And did Colonel Forster appear to think ill of Wickham himself? Does he
-know his real character?”
-
-“I must confess that he did not speak so well of Wickham as he formerly
-did. He believed him to be imprudent and extravagant; and since this sad
-affair has taken place, it is said that he left Meryton greatly in debt:
-but I hope this may be false.”
-
-“Oh, Jane, had we been less secret, had we told what we knew of him,
-this could not have happened!”
-
-“Perhaps it would have been better,” replied her sister.
-
-“But to expose the former faults of any person, without knowing what
-their present feelings were, seemed unjustifiable.”
-
-“We acted with the best intentions.”
-
-“Could Colonel Forster repeat the particulars of Lydia’s note to his
-wife?”
-
-“He brought it with him for us to see.”
-
-Jane then took it from her pocket-book, and gave it to Elizabeth. These
-were the contents:--
-
- /* NIND “My dear Harriet, */
-
- “You will laugh when you know where I am gone, and I cannot help
- laughing myself at your surprise to-morrow morning, as soon as I am
- missed. I am going to Gretna Green, and if you cannot guess with
- who, I shall think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in the
- world I love, and he is an angel. I should never be happy without
- him, so think it no harm to be off. You need not send them word at
- Longbourn of my going, if you do not like it, for it will make the
- surprise the greater when I write to them, and sign my name Lydia
- Wickham. What a good joke it will be! I can hardly write for
- laughing. Pray make my excuses to Pratt for not keeping my
- engagement, and dancing with him to-night. Tell him I hope he will
- excuse me when he knows all, and tell him I will dance with him at
- the next ball we meet with great pleasure. I shall send for my
- clothes when I get to Longbourn; but I wish you would tell Sally to
- mend a great slit in my worked muslin gown before they are packed
- up. Good-bye. Give my love to Colonel Forster. I hope you will
- drink to our good journey.
-
-“Your affectionate friend,
-
-“LYDIA BENNET.”
-
-
-“Oh, thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia!” cried Elizabeth when she had
-finished it. “What a letter is this, to be written at such a moment! But
-at least it shows that _she_ was serious in the object of her journey.
-Whatever he might afterwards persuade her to, it was not on her side a
-_scheme_ of infamy. My poor father! how he must have felt it!”
-
-“I never saw anyone so shocked. He could not speak a word for full ten
-minutes. My mother was taken ill immediately, and the whole house in
-such confusion!”
-
-“Oh, Jane,” cried Elizabeth, “was there a servant belonging to it who
-did not know the whole story before the end of the day?”
-
-“I do not know: I hope there was. But to be guarded at such a time is
-very difficult. My mother was in hysterics; and though I endeavoured to
-give her every assistance in my power, I am afraid I did not do so much
-as I might have done. But the horror of what might possibly happen
-almost took from me my faculties.”
-
-“Your attendance upon her has been too much for you. You do not look
-well. Oh that I had been with you! you have had every care and anxiety
-upon yourself alone.”
-
-“Mary and Kitty have been very kind, and would have shared in every
-fatigue, I am sure, but I did not think it right for either of them.
-Kitty is slight and delicate, and Mary studies so much that her hours of
-repose should not be broken in on. My aunt Philips came to Longbourn on
-Tuesday, after my father went away; and was so good as to stay till
-Thursday with me. She was of great use and comfort to us all, and Lady
-Lucas has been very kind: she walked here on Wednesday morning to
-condole with us, and offered her services, or any of her daughters, if
-they could be of use to us.”
-
-“She had better have stayed at home,” cried Elizabeth: “perhaps she
-_meant_ well, but, under such a misfortune as this, one cannot see too
-little of one’s neighbours. Assistance is impossible; condolence,
-insufferable. Let them triumph over us at a distance, and be satisfied.”
-
-She then proceeded to inquire into the measures which her father had
-intended to pursue, while in town, for the recovery of his daughter.
-
-“He meant, I believe,” replied Jane, “to go to Epsom, the place where
-they last changed horses, see the postilions, and try if anything could
-be made out from them. His principal object must be to discover the
-number of the hackney coach which took them from Clapham. It had come
-with a fare from London; and as he thought the circumstance of a
-gentleman and lady’s removing from one carriage into another might be
-remarked, he meant to make inquiries at Clapham. If he could anyhow
-discover at what house the coachman had before set down his fare, he
-determined to make inquiries there, and hoped it might not be impossible
-to find out the stand and number of the coach. I do not know of any
-other designs that he had formed; but he was in such a hurry to be gone,
-and his spirits so greatly discomposed, that I had difficulty in finding
-out even so much as this.”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- The Post
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XLVIII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The whole party were in hopes of a letter from Mr. Bennet the next
-morning, but the post came in without bringing a single line from him.
-His family knew him to be, on all common occasions, a most negligent and
-dilatory correspondent; but at such a time they had hoped for exertion.
-They were forced to conclude, that he had no pleasing intelligence to
-send; but even of _that_ they would have been glad to be certain. Mr.
-Gardiner had waited only for the letters before he set off.
-
-When he was gone, they were certain at least of receiving constant
-information of what was going on; and their uncle promised, at parting,
-to prevail on Mr. Bennet to return to Longbourn as soon as he could, to
-the great consolation of his sister, who considered it as the only
-security for her husband’s not being killed in a duel.
-
-Mrs. Gardiner and the children were to remain in Hertfordshire a few
-days longer, as the former thought her presence might be serviceable to
-her nieces. She shared in their attendance on Mrs. Bennet, and was a
-great comfort to them in their hours of freedom. Their other aunt also
-visited them frequently, and always, as she said, with the design of
-cheering and heartening them up--though, as she never came without
-reporting some fresh instance of Wickham’s extravagance or irregularity,
-she seldom went away without leaving them more dispirited than she found
-them.
-
-All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man who, but three months
-before, had been almost an angel of light. He was declared to be in debt
-to every tradesman in the place, and his intrigues, all honoured with
-the title of seduction, had been extended into every tradesman’s family.
-Everybody declared that he was the wickedest young man in the world; and
-everybody began to find out that they had always distrusted the
-appearance of his goodness. Elizabeth, though she did not credit above
-half of what was said, believed enough to make her former assurance of
-her sister’s ruin still more certain; and even Jane, who believed still
-less of it, became almost hopeless, more especially as the time was now
-come, when, if they had gone to Scotland, which she had never before
-entirely despaired of, they must in all probability have gained some
-news of them.
-
-Mr. Gardiner left Longbourn on Sunday; on Tuesday, his wife received a
-letter from him: it told them, that on his arrival he had immediately
-found out his brother, and persuaded him to come to Gracechurch Street.
-That Mr. Bennet had been to Epsom and Clapham, before his arrival, but
-without gaining any satisfactory information; and that he was now
-determined to inquire at all the principal hotels in town, as Mr. Bennet
-thought it possible they might have gone to one of them, on their first
-coming to London, before they procured lodgings. Mr. Gardiner himself
-did not expect any success from this measure; but as his brother was
-eager in it, he meant to assist him in pursuing it. He added, that Mr.
-Bennet seemed wholly disinclined at present to leave London, and
-promised to write again very soon. There was also a postscript to this
-effect:--
-
-“I have written to Colonel Forster to desire him to find out, if
-possible, from some of the young man’s intimates in the regiment,
-whether Wickham has any relations or connections who would be likely to
-know in what part of the town he has now concealed himself. If there
-were anyone that one could apply to, with a probability of gaining such
-a clue as that, it might be of essential consequence. At present we have
-nothing to guide us. Colonel Forster will, I dare say, do everything in
-his power to satisfy us on this head. But, on second thoughts, perhaps
-Lizzy could tell us what relations he has now living better than any
-other person.”
-
-Elizabeth was at no loss to understand from whence this deference for
-her authority proceeded; but it was not in her power to give any
-information of so satisfactory a nature as the compliment deserved.
-
-She had never heard of his having had any relations, except a father
-and mother, both of whom had been dead many years. It was possible,
-however, that some of his companions in the ----shire might be able to
-give more information; and though she was not very sanguine in expecting
-it, the application was a something to look forward to.
-
-Every day at Longbourn was now a day of anxiety; but the most anxious
-part of each was when the post was expected. The arrival of letters was
-the first grand object of every morning’s impatience. Through letters,
-whatever of good or bad was to be told would be communicated; and every
-succeeding day was expected to bring some news of importance.
-
-But before they heard again from Mr. Gardiner, a letter arrived for
-their father, from a different quarter, from Mr. Collins; which, as Jane
-had received directions to open all that came for him in his absence,
-she accordingly read; and Elizabeth, who knew what curiosities his
-letters always were, looked over her, and read it likewise. It was as
-follows:--
-
- /* “My dear Sir, */
-
- “I feel myself called upon, by our relationship, and my situation
- in life, to condole with you on the grievous affliction you are now
- suffering under, of which we were yesterday informed by a letter
- from Hertfordshire. Be assured, my dear sir, that Mrs. Collins and
- myself sincerely sympathize with you, and all your respectable
- family, in your present distress, which must be of the bitterest
- kind, because proceeding from a cause which no time can remove. No
- arguments shall be wanting on my part, that can alleviate so severe
- a misfortune; or that may comfort you, under a circumstance that
- must be, of all others, most afflicting to a parent’s mind. The
- death of your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison of
- this. And it is the more to be lamented, because there is reason to
- suppose, as my dear Charlotte informs me, that this licentiousness
- of behaviour in your
-
- [Illustration:
-
-“To whom I have related the affair”
-
- [_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
- daughter has proceeded from a faulty degree of indulgence; though,
- at the same time, for the consolation of yourself and Mrs. Bennet,
- I am inclined to think that her own disposition must be naturally
- bad, or she could not be guilty of such an enormity, at so early an
- age. Howsoever that may be, you are grievously to be pitied; in
- which opinion I am not only joined by Mrs. Collins, but likewise by
- Lady Catherine and her daughter, to whom I have related the affair.
- They agree with me in apprehending that this false step in one
- daughter will be injurious to the fortunes of all the others: for
- who, as Lady Catherine herself condescendingly says, will connect
- themselves with such a family? And this consideration leads me,
- moreover, to reflect, with augmented satisfaction, on a certain
- event of last November; for had it been otherwise, I must have been
- involved in all your sorrow and disgrace. Let me advise you, then,
- my dear sir, to console yourself as much as possible, to throw off
- your unworthy child from your affection for ever, and leave her to
- reap the fruits of her own heinous offence.
-
-“I am, dear sir,” etc., etc.
-
-Mr. Gardiner did not write again, till he had received an answer from
-Colonel Forster; and then he had nothing of a pleasant nature to send.
-It was not known that Wickham had a single relation with whom he kept up
-any connection, and it was certain that he had no near one living. His
-former acquaintance had been numerous; but since he had been in the
-militia, it did not appear that he was on terms of particular friendship
-with any of them. There was no one, therefore, who could be pointed out
-as likely to give any news of him. And in the wretched state of his own
-finances, there was a very powerful motive for secrecy, in addition to
-his fear of discovery by Lydia’s relations; for it had just transpired
-that he had left gaming debts behind him to a very considerable amount.
-Colonel Forster believed that more than a thousand pounds would be
-necessary to clear his expenses at Brighton. He owed a good deal in the
-town, but his debts of honour were still more formidable. Mr. Gardiner
-did not attempt to conceal these particulars from the Longbourn family;
-Jane heard them with horror. “A gamester!” she cried. “This is wholly
-unexpected; I had not an idea of it.”
-
-Mr. Gardiner added, in his letter, that they might expect to see their
-father at home on the following day, which was Saturday. Rendered
-spiritless by the ill success of all their endeavours, he had yielded to
-his brother-in-law’s entreaty that he would return to his family and
-leave it to him to do whatever occasion might suggest to be advisable
-for continuing their pursuit. When Mrs. Bennet was told of this, she did
-not express so much satisfaction as her children expected, considering
-what her anxiety for his life had been before.
-
-“What! is he coming home, and without poor Lydia?” she cried. “Sure he
-will not leave London before he has found them. Who is to fight Wickham,
-and make him marry her, if he comes away?”
-
-As Mrs. Gardiner began to wish to be at home, it was settled that she
-and her children should go to London at the same time that Mr. Bennet
-came from it. The coach, therefore, took them the first stage of their
-journey, and brought its master back to Longbourn.
-
-Mrs. Gardiner went away in all the perplexity about Elizabeth and her
-Derbyshire friend, that had attended her from that part of the world.
-His name had never been voluntarily mentioned before them by her niece;
-and the kind of half-expectation which Mrs. Gardiner had formed, of
-their being followed by a letter from him, had ended in nothing.
-Elizabeth had received none since her return, that could come from
-Pemberley.
-
-The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other excuse for
-the lowness of her spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be
-fairly conjectured from _that_,--though Elizabeth, who was by this time
-tolerably well acquainted with her own feelings, was perfectly aware
-that, had she known nothing of Darcy, she could have borne the dread of
-Lydia’s infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her, she thought,
-one sleepless night out of two.
-
-When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the appearance of his usual
-philosophic composure. He said as little as he had ever been in the
-habit of saying; made no mention of the business that had taken him
-away; and it was some time before his daughters had courage to speak of
-it.
-
-It was not till the afternoon, when he joined them at tea, that
-Elizabeth ventured to introduce the subject; and then, on her briefly
-expressing her sorrow for what he must have endured, he replied, “Say
-nothing of that. Who should suffer but myself? It has been my own doing,
-and I ought to feel it.”
-
-“You must not be too severe upon yourself,” replied Elizabeth.
-
-“You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is so prone to
-fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have
-been to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression.
-It will pass away soon enough.”
-
-“Do you suppose them to be in London?”
-
-“Yes; where else can they be so well concealed?”
-
-“And Lydia used to want to go to London,” added Kitty.
-
-“She is happy, then,” said her father, drily; “and her residence there
-will probably be of some duration.”
-
-Then, after a short silence, he continued, “Lizzy, I bear you no
-ill-will for being justified in your advice to me last May, which,
-considering the event, shows some greatness of mind.”
-
-They were interrupted by Miss Bennet, who came to fetch her mother’s
-tea.
-
-“This is a parade,” cried he, “which does one good; it gives such an
-elegance to misfortune! Another day I will do the same; I will sit in my
-library, in my nightcap and powdering gown, and give as much trouble as
-I can,--or perhaps I may defer it till Kitty runs away.”
-
-“I am not going to run away, papa,” said Kitty, fretfully. “If _I_
-should ever go to Brighton, I would behave better than Lydia.”
-
-“_You_ go to Brighton! I would not trust you so near it as Eastbourne,
-for fifty pounds! No, Kitty, I have at least learnt to be cautious, and
-you will feel the effects of it. No officer is ever to enter my house
-again, nor even to pass through the village. Balls will be absolutely
-prohibited, unless you stand up with one of your sisters. And you are
-never to stir out of doors, till you can prove that you have spent ten
-minutes of every day in a rational manner.”
-
-Kitty, who took all these threats in a serious light, began to cry.
-
-“Well, well,” said he, “do not make yourself unhappy. If you are a good
-girl for the next ten years, I will take you to a review at the end of
-them.”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XLIX.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Two days after Mr. Bennet’s return, as Jane and Elizabeth were walking
-together in the shrubbery behind the house, they saw the housekeeper
-coming towards them, and concluding that she came to call them to their
-mother, went forward to meet her; but instead of the expected summons,
-when they approached her, she said to Miss Bennet, “I beg your pardon,
-madam, for interrupting you, but I was in hopes you might have got some
-good news from town, so I took the liberty of coming to ask.”
-
-“What do you mean, Hill? We have heard nothing from town.”
-
-“Dear madam,” cried Mrs. Hill, in great astonishment, “don’t you know
-there is an express come for master from Mr. Gardiner? He has been here
-this half hour, and master has had a letter.”
-
-Away ran the girls, too eager to get in to have time for speech. They
-ran through the vestibule into the breakfast-room; from thence to the
-library;--their father was in neither; and they were on the point of
-seeking him upstairs with their mother, when they were met by the
-butler, who said,--
-
-“If you are looking for my master, ma’am, he is walking towards the
-little copse.”
-
-Upon this information, they instantly passed through the hall once more,
-and ran across the lawn after their father, who was deliberately
-pursuing his way towards a small wood on one side of the paddock.
-
-Jane, who was not so light, nor so much in the habit of running as
-Elizabeth, soon lagged behind, while her sister, panting for breath,
-came up with him, and eagerly cried out,--
-
-“Oh, papa, what news? what news? have you heard from my uncle?”
-
-“Yes, I have had a letter from him by express.”
-
-“Well, and what news does it bring--good or bad?”
-
-“What is there of good to be expected?” said he, taking the letter from
-his pocket; “but perhaps you would like to read it.”
-
-Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand. Jane now came up.
-
-“Read it aloud,” said their father, “for I hardly know myself what it is
-about.”
-
- /* RIGHT “Gracechurch Street, _Monday, August 2_. */
-
-“My dear Brother,
-
- “At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece, and such
- as, upon the whole, I hope will give you satisfaction. Soon after
- you left me on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to find out in what
- part of London they were. The particulars I reserve till we meet.
- It is enough to know they are discovered: I have seen them
- both----”
-
- [Illustration:
-
-“But perhaps you would like to read it”
-
- [_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
- “Then it is as I always hoped,” cried Jane: “they are married!”
-
- Elizabeth read on: “I have seen them both. They are not married,
- nor can I find there was any intention of being so; but if you are
- willing to perform the engagements which I have ventured to make on
- your side, I hope it will not be long before they are. All that is
- required of you is, to assure to your daughter, by settlement, her
- equal share of the five thousand pounds, secured among your
- children after the decease of yourself and my sister; and,
- moreover, to enter into an engagement of allowing her, during your
- life, one hundred pounds per annum. These are conditions which,
- considering everything, I had no hesitation in complying with, as
- far as I thought myself privileged, for you. I shall send this by
- express, that no time may be lost in bringing me your answer. You
- will easily comprehend, from these particulars, that Mr. Wickham’s
- circumstances are not so hopeless as they are generally believed to
- be. The world has been deceived in that respect; and I am happy to
- say, there will be some little money, even when all his debts are
- discharged, to settle on my niece, in addition to her own fortune.
- If, as I conclude will be the case, you send me full powers to act
- in your name throughout the whole of this business, I will
- immediately give directions to Haggerston for preparing a proper
- settlement. There will not be the smallest occasion for your coming
- to town again; therefore stay quietly at Longbourn, and depend on
- my diligence and care. Send back your answer as soon as you can,
- and be careful to write explicitly. We have judged it best that my
- niece should be married from this house, of which I hope you will
- approve. She comes to us to-day. I shall write again as soon as
- anything more is determined on. Yours, etc.
-
-“EDW. GARDINER.”
-
-“Is it possible?” cried Elizabeth, when she had finished. “Can it be
-possible that he will marry her?”
-
-“Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we have thought him,” said her
-sister. “My dear father, I congratulate you.”
-
-“And have you answered the letter?” said Elizabeth.
-
-“No; but it must be done soon.”
-
-Most earnestly did she then entreat him to lose no more time before he
-wrote.
-
-“Oh! my dear father,” she cried, “come back and write immediately.
-Consider how important every moment is in such a case.”
-
-“Let me write for you,” said Jane, “if you dislike the trouble
-yourself.”
-
-“I dislike it very much,” he replied; “but it must be done.”
-
-And so saying, he turned back with them, and walked towards the house.
-
-“And--may I ask?” said Elizabeth; “but the terms, I suppose, must be
-complied with.”
-
-“Complied with! I am only ashamed of his asking so little.”
-
-“And they _must_ marry! Yet he is _such_ a man.”
-
-“Yes, yes, they must marry. There is nothing else to be done. But there
-are two things that I want very much to know:--one is, how much money
-your uncle has laid down to bring it about; and the other, how I am ever
-to pay him.”
-
-“Money! my uncle!” cried Jane, “what do you mean, sir?”
-
-“I mean that no man in his proper senses would marry Lydia on so slight
-a temptation as one hundred a year during my life, and fifty after I am
-gone.”
-
-“That is very true,” said Elizabeth; “though it had not occurred to me
-before. His debts to be discharged, and something still to remain! Oh,
-it must be my uncle’s doings! Generous, good man, I am afraid he has
-distressed himself. A small sum could not do all this.”
-
-“No,” said her father. “Wickham’s a fool if he takes her with a farthing
-less than ten thousand pounds: I should be sorry to think so ill of him,
-in the very beginning of our relationship.”
-
-“Ten thousand pounds! Heaven forbid! How is half such a sum to be
-repaid?”
-
-Mr. Bennet made no answer; and each of them, deep in thought, continued
-silent till they reached the house. Their father then went to the
-library to write, and the girls walked into the breakfast-room.
-
-“And they are really to be married!” cried Elizabeth, as soon as they
-were by themselves. “How strange this is! and for _this_ we are to be
-thankful. That they should marry, small as is their chance of happiness,
-and wretched as is his character, we are forced to rejoice! Oh, Lydia!”
-
-“I comfort myself with thinking,” replied Jane, “that he certainly would
-not marry Lydia, if he had not a real regard for her. Though our kind
-uncle has done something towards clearing him, I cannot believe that ten
-thousand pounds, or anything like it, has been advanced. He has children
-of his own, and may have more. How could he spare half ten thousand
-pounds?”
-
-“If we are ever able to learn what Wickham’s debts have been,” said
-Elizabeth, “and how much is settled on his side on our sister, we shall
-exactly know what Mr. Gardiner has done for them, because Wickham has
-not sixpence of his own. The kindness of my uncle and aunt can never be
-requited. Their taking her home, and affording her their personal
-protection and countenance, is such a sacrifice to her advantage as
-years of gratitude cannot enough acknowledge. By this time she is
-actually with them! If such goodness does not make her miserable now,
-she will never deserve to be happy! What a meeting for her, when she
-first sees my aunt!”
-
-“We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either side,” said
-Jane: “I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His consenting to marry
-her is a proof, I will believe, that he is come to a right way of
-thinking. Their mutual affection will steady them; and I flatter myself
-they will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, as may in
-time make their past imprudence forgotten.”
-
-“Their conduct has been such,” replied Elizabeth, “as neither you, nor
-I, nor anybody, can ever forget. It is useless to talk of it.”
-
-It now occurred to the girls that their mother was in all likelihood
-perfectly ignorant of what had happened. They went to the library,
-therefore, and asked their father whether he would not wish them to make
-it known to her. He was writing, and, without raising his head, coolly
-replied,--
-
-“Just as you please.”
-
-“May we take my uncle’s letter to read to her?”
-
-“Take whatever you like, and get away.”
-
-Elizabeth took the letter from his writing-table, and they went upstairs
-together. Mary and Kitty were both with Mrs. Bennet: one communication
-would, therefore, do for all. After a slight preparation for good news,
-the letter was read aloud. Mrs. Bennet could hardly contain herself. As
-soon as Jane had read Mr. Gardiner’s hope of Lydia’s being soon married,
-her joy burst forth, and every following sentence added to its
-exuberance. She was now in an irritation as violent from delight as she
-had ever been fidgety from alarm and vexation. To know that her daughter
-would be married was enough. She was disturbed by no fear for her
-felicity, nor humbled by any remembrance of her misconduct.
-
-“My dear, dear Lydia!” she cried: “this is delightful indeed! She will
-be married! I shall see her again! She will be married at sixteen! My
-good, kind brother! I knew how it would be--I knew he would manage
-everything. How I long to see her! and to see dear Wickham too! But the
-clothes, the wedding clothes! I will write to my sister Gardiner about
-them directly. Lizzy, my dear, run down to your father, and ask him how
-much he will give her. Stay, stay, I will go myself. Ring the bell,
-Kitty, for Hill. I will put on my things in a moment. My dear, dear
-Lydia! How merry we shall be together when we meet!”
-
-Her eldest daughter endeavoured to give some relief to the violence of
-these transports, by leading her thoughts to the obligations which Mr.
-Gardiner’s behaviour laid them all under.
-
-“For we must attribute this happy conclusion,” she added, “in a great
-measure to his kindness. We are persuaded that he has pledged himself to
-assist Mr. Wickham with money.”
-
-“Well,” cried her mother, “it is all very right; who should do it but
-her own uncle? If he had not had a family of his own, I and my children
-must have had all his money, you know; and it is the first time we have
-ever had anything from him except a few presents. Well! I am so happy.
-In a short time, I shall have a daughter married. Mrs. Wickham! How well
-it sounds! And she was only sixteen last June. My dear Jane, I am in
-such a flutter, that I am sure I can’t write; so I will dictate, and you
-write for me. We will settle with your father about the money
-afterwards; but the things should be ordered immediately.”
-
-She was then proceeding to all the particulars of calico, muslin, and
-cambric, and would shortly have dictated some very plentiful orders, had
-not Jane, though with some difficulty, persuaded her to wait till her
-father was at leisure to be consulted. One day’s delay, she observed,
-would be of small importance; and her mother was too happy to be quite
-so obstinate as usual. Other schemes, too, came into her head.
-
-“I will go to Meryton,” said she, “as soon as I am dressed, and tell the
-good, good news to my sister Philips. And as I come back, I can call on
-Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long. Kitty, run down and order the carriage. An
-airing would do me a great deal of good, I am sure. Girls, can I do
-anything for you in Meryton? Oh! here comes Hill. My dear Hill, have you
-heard the good news? Miss Lydia is going to be married; and you shall
-all have a bowl of punch to make merry at her wedding.”
-
-Mrs. Hill began instantly to express her joy. Elizabeth received her
-congratulations amongst the rest, and then, sick of this folly, took
-refuge in her own room, that she might think with freedom. Poor Lydia’s
-situation must, at best, be bad enough; but that it was no worse, she
-had need to be thankful. She felt it so; and though, in looking forward,
-neither rational happiness, nor worldly prosperity could be justly
-expected for her sister, in looking back to what they had feared, only
-two hours ago, she felt all the advantages of what they had gained.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“The spiteful old ladies”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER L.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Mr. Bennet had very often wished, before this period of his life, that,
-instead of spending his whole income, he had laid by an annual sum, for
-the better provision of his children, and of his wife, if she survived
-him. He now wished it more than ever. Had he done his duty in that
-respect, Lydia need not have been indebted to her uncle for whatever of
-honour or credit could now be purchased for her. The satisfaction of
-prevailing on one of the most worthless young men in Great Britain to
-be her husband might then have rested in its proper place.
-
-He was seriously concerned that a cause of so little advantage to anyone
-should be forwarded at the sole expense of his brother-in-law; and he
-was determined, if possible, to find out the extent of his assistance,
-and to discharge the obligation as soon as he could.
-
-When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to be perfectly
-useless; for, of course, they were to have a son. This son was to join
-in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should be of age, and the widow
-and younger children would by that means be provided for. Five daughters
-successively entered the world, but yet the son was to come; and Mrs.
-Bennet, for many years after Lydia’s birth, had been certain that he
-would. This event had at last been despaired of, but it was then too
-late to be saving. Mrs. Bennet had no turn for economy; and her
-husband’s love of independence had alone prevented their exceeding their
-income.
-
-Five thousand pounds was settled by marriage articles on Mrs. Bennet and
-the children. But in what proportions it should be divided amongst the
-latter depended on the will of the parents. This was one point, with
-regard to Lydia at least, which was now to be settled, and Mr. Bennet
-could have no hesitation in acceding to the proposal before him. In
-terms of grateful acknowledgment for the kindness of his brother, though
-expressed most concisely, he then delivered on paper his perfect
-approbation of all that was done, and his willingness to fulfil the
-engagements that had been made for him. He had never before supposed
-that, could Wickham be prevailed on to marry his daughter, it would be
-done with so little inconvenience to himself as by the present
-arrangement. He would scarcely be ten pounds a year the loser, by the
-hundred that was to be paid them; for, what with her board and pocket
-allowance, and the continual presents in money which passed to her
-through her mother’s hands, Lydia’s expenses had been very little within
-that sum.
-
-That it would be done with such trifling exertion on his side, too, was
-another very welcome surprise; for his chief wish at present was to have
-as little trouble in the business as possible. When the first transports
-of rage which had produced his activity in seeking her were over, he
-naturally returned to all his former indolence. His letter was soon
-despatched; for though dilatory in undertaking business, he was quick in
-its execution. He begged to know further particulars of what he was
-indebted to his brother; but was too angry with Lydia to send any
-message to her.
-
-The good news quickly spread through the house; and with proportionate
-speed through the neighbourhood. It was borne in the latter with decent
-philosophy. To be sure, it would have been more for the advantage of
-conversation, had Miss Lydia Bennet come upon the town; or, as the
-happiest alternative, been secluded from the world in some distant
-farm-house. But there was much to be talked of, in marrying her; and the
-good-natured wishes for her well-doing, which had proceeded before from
-all the spiteful old ladies in Meryton, lost but little of their spirit
-in this change of circumstances, because with such a husband her misery
-was considered certain.
-
-It was a fortnight since Mrs. Bennet had been down stairs, but on this
-happy day she again took her seat at the head of her table, and in
-spirits oppressively high. No sentiment of shame gave a damp to her
-triumph. The marriage of a daughter, which had been the first object of
-her wishes since Jane was sixteen, was now on the point of
-accomplishment, and her thoughts and her words ran wholly on those
-attendants of elegant nuptials, fine muslins, new carriages, and
-servants. She was busily searching through the neighbourhood for a
-proper situation for her daughter; and, without knowing or considering
-what their income might be, rejected many as deficient in size and
-importance.
-
-“Haye Park might do,” said she, “if the Gouldings would quit it, or the
-great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but Ashworth is
-too far off. I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for
-Purvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful.”
-
-Her husband allowed her to talk on without interruption while the
-servants remained. But when they had withdrawn, he said to her, “Mrs.
-Bennet, before you take any, or all of these houses, for your son and
-daughter, let us come to a right understanding. Into _one_ house in this
-neighbourhood they shall never have admittance. I will not encourage the
-imprudence of either, by receiving them at Longbourn.”
-
-A long dispute followed this declaration; but Mr. Bennet was firm: it
-soon led to another; and Mrs. Bennet found, with amazement and horror,
-that her husband would not advance a guinea to buy clothes for his
-daughter. He protested that she should receive from him no mark of
-affection whatever on the occasion. Mrs. Bennet could hardly comprehend
-it. That his anger could be carried to such a point of inconceivable
-resentment as to refuse his daughter a privilege, without which her
-marriage would scarcely seem valid, exceeded all that she could believe
-possible. She was more alive to the disgrace, which her want of new
-clothes must reflect on her daughter’s nuptials, than to any sense of
-shame at her eloping and living with Wickham a fortnight before they
-took place.
-
-Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she had, from the distress of
-the moment, been led to make Mr. Darcy acquainted with their fears for
-her sister; for since her marriage would so shortly give the proper
-termination to the elopement, they might hope to conceal its
-unfavourable beginning from all those who were not immediately on the
-spot.
-
-She had no fear of its spreading farther, through his means. There were
-few people on whose secrecy she would have more confidently depended;
-but at the same time there was no one whose knowledge of a sister’s
-frailty would have mortified her so much. Not, however, from any fear of
-disadvantage from it individually to herself; for at any rate there
-seemed a gulf impassable between them. Had Lydia’s marriage been
-concluded on the most honourable terms, it was not to be supposed that
-Mr. Darcy would connect himself with a family, where to every other
-objection would now be added an alliance and relationship of the nearest
-kind with the man whom he so justly scorned.
-
-From such a connection she could not wonder that he should shrink. The
-wish of procuring her regard, which she had assured herself of his
-feeling in Derbyshire, could not in rational expectation survive such a
-blow as this. She was humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though she
-hardly knew of what. She became jealous of his esteem, when she could no
-longer hope to be benefited by it. She wanted to hear of him, when there
-seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence. She was convinced that
-she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely they
-should meet.
-
-What a triumph for him, as she often thought, could he know that the
-proposals which she had proudly spurned only four months ago would now
-have been gladly and gratefully received! He was as generous, she
-doubted not, as the most generous of his sex. But while he was mortal,
-there must be a triumph.
-
-She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in
-disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and
-temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes. It
-was an union that must have been to the advantage of both: by her ease
-and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved;
-and from his judgment, information, and knowledge of the world, she must
-have received benefit of greater importance.
-
-But no such happy marriage could now teach the admiring multitude what
-connubial felicity really was. An union of a different tendency, and
-precluding the possibility of the other, was soon to be formed in their
-family.
-
-How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported in tolerable independence she
-could not imagine. But how little of permanent happiness could belong to
-a couple who were only brought together because their passions were
-stronger than their virtue, she could easily conjecture.
-
-Mr. Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother. To Mr. Bennet’s
-acknowledgments he briefly replied, with assurances of his eagerness to
-promote the welfare of any of his family; and concluded with entreaties
-that the subject might never be mentioned to him again. The principal
-purport of his letter was to inform them, that Mr. Wickham had resolved
-on quitting the militia.
-
-“It was greatly my wish that he should do so,” he added, “as soon as his
-marriage was fixed on. And I think you will agree with me, in
-considering a removal from that corps as highly advisable, both on his
-account and my niece’s. It is Mr. Wickham’s intention to go into the
-Regulars; and, among his former friends, there are still some who are
-able and willing to assist him in the army. He has the promise of an
-ensigncy in General----’s regiment, now quartered in the north. It is
-an advantage to have it so far from this part of the kingdom. He
-promises fairly; and I hope among different people, where they may each
-have a character to preserve, they will both be more prudent. I have
-written to Colonel Forster, to inform him of our present arrangements,
-and to request that he will satisfy the various creditors of Mr. Wickham
-in and near Brighton with assurances of speedy payment, for which I have
-pledged myself. And will you give yourself the trouble of carrying
-similar assurances to his creditors in Meryton, of whom I shall subjoin
-a list, according to his information? He has given in all his debts; I
-hope at least he has not deceived us. Haggerston has our directions, and
-all will be completed in a week. They will then join his regiment,
-unless they are first invited to Longbourn; and I understand from Mrs.
-Gardiner that my niece is very desirous of seeing you all before she
-leaves the south. She is well, and begs to be dutifully remembered to
-you and her mother.--Yours, etc.
-
-“E. GARDINER.”
-
-Mr. Bennet and his daughters saw all the advantages of Wickham’s
-removal from the ----shire, as clearly as Mr. Gardiner could do. But
-Mrs. Bennet was not so well pleased with it. Lydia’s being settled in
-the north, just when she had expected most pleasure and pride in her
-company, for she had by no means given up her plan of their residing in
-Hertfordshire, was a severe disappointment; and, besides, it was such a
-pity that Lydia should be taken from a regiment where she was acquainted
-with everybody, and had so many favourites.
-
-“She is so fond of Mrs. Forster,” said she, “it will be quite shocking
-to send her away! And there are several of the young men, too, that she
-likes very much. The officers may not be so pleasant in General----’s
-regiment.”
-
-His daughter’s request, for such it might be considered, of being
-admitted into her family again, before she set off for the north,
-received at first an absolute negative. But Jane and Elizabeth, who
-agreed in wishing, for the sake of their sister’s feelings and
-consequence, that she should be noticed on her marriage by her parents,
-urged him so earnestly, yet so rationally and so mildly, to receive her
-and her husband at Longbourn, as soon as they were married, that he was
-prevailed on to think as they thought, and act as they wished. And their
-mother had the satisfaction of knowing, that she should be able to show
-her married daughter in the neighbourhood, before she was banished to
-the north. When Mr. Bennet wrote again to his brother, therefore, he
-sent his permission for them to come; and it was settled, that, as soon
-as the ceremony was over, they should proceed to Longbourn. Elizabeth
-was surprised, however, that Wickham should consent to such a scheme;
-and, had she consulted only her own inclination, any meeting with him
-would have been the last object of her wishes.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“With an affectionate smile”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER LI.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Their sister’s wedding-day arrived; and Jane and Elizabeth felt for her
-probably more than she felt for herself. The carriage was sent to meet
-them at----, and they were to return in it by dinnertime. Their arrival
-was dreaded by the elder Miss Bennets--and Jane more especially, who
-gave Lydia the feelings which would have attended herself, had _she_
-been the culprit, and was wretched in the thought of what her sister
-must endure.
-
-They came. The family were assembled in the breakfast-room to receive
-them. Smiles decked the face of Mrs. Bennet, as the carriage drove up to
-the door; her husband looked impenetrably grave; her daughters, alarmed,
-anxious, uneasy.
-
-Lydia’s voice was heard in the vestibule; the door was thrown open, and
-she ran into the room. Her mother stepped forwards, embraced her, and
-welcomed her with rapture; gave her hand with an affectionate smile to
-Wickham, who followed his lady; and wished them both joy, with an
-alacrity which showed no doubt of their happiness.
-
-Their reception from Mr. Bennet, to whom they then turned, was not quite
-so cordial. His countenance rather gained in austerity; and he scarcely
-opened his lips. The easy assurance of the young couple, indeed, was
-enough to provoke him.
-
-Elizabeth was disgusted, and even Miss Bennet was shocked. Lydia was
-Lydia still; untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy, and fearless. She turned
-from sister to sister, demanding their congratulations; and when at
-length they all sat down, looked eagerly round the room, took notice of
-some little alteration in it, and observed, with a laugh, that it was a
-great while since she had been there.
-
-Wickham was not at all more distressed than herself; but his manners
-were always so pleasing, that, had his character and his marriage been
-exactly what they ought, his smiles and his easy address, while he
-claimed their relationship, would have delighted them all. Elizabeth
-had not before believed him quite equal to such assurance; but she sat
-down, resolving within herself to draw no limits in future to the
-impudence of an impudent man. _She_ blushed, and Jane blushed; but the
-cheeks of the two who caused their confusion suffered no variation of
-colour.
-
-There was no want of discourse. The bride and her mother could neither
-of them talk fast enough; and Wickham, who happened to sit near
-Elizabeth, began inquiring after his acquaintance in that neighbourhood,
-with a good-humoured ease, which she felt very unable to equal in her
-replies. They seemed each of them to have the happiest memories in the
-world. Nothing of the past was recollected with pain; and Lydia led
-voluntarily to subjects which her sisters would not have alluded to for
-the world.
-
-“Only think of its being three months,” she cried, “since I went away:
-it seems but a fortnight, I declare; and yet there have been things
-enough happened in the time. Good gracious! when I went away, I am sure
-I had no more idea of being married till I came back again! though I
-thought it would be very good fun if I was.”
-
-Her father lifted up his eyes, Jane was distressed, Elizabeth looked
-expressively at Lydia; but she, who never heard nor saw anything of
-which she chose to be insensible, gaily continued,--
-
-“Oh, mamma, do the people hereabouts know I am married to-day? I was
-afraid they might not; and we overtook William Goulding in his curricle,
-so I was determined he should know it, and so I let down the side glass
-next to him, and took off my glove and let my hand just rest upon the
-window frame, so that he might see the ring, and then I bowed and
-smiled like anything.”
-
-Elizabeth could bear it no longer. She got up and ran out of the room;
-and returned no more, till she heard them passing through the hall to
-the dining-parlour. She then joined them soon enough to see Lydia, with
-anxious parade, walk up to her mother’s right hand, and hear her say to
-her eldest sister,--
-
-“Ah, Jane, I take your place now, and you must go lower, because I am a
-married woman.”
-
-It was not to be supposed that time would give Lydia that embarrassment
-from which she had been so wholly free at first. Her ease and good
-spirits increased. She longed to see Mrs. Philips, the Lucases, and all
-their other neighbours, and to hear herself called “Mrs. Wickham” by
-each of them; and in the meantime she went after dinner to show her ring
-and boast of being married to Mrs. Hill and the two housemaids.
-
-“Well, mamma,” said she, when they were all returned to the
-breakfast-room, “and what do you think of my husband? Is not he a
-charming man? I am sure my sisters must all envy me. I only hope they
-may have half my good luck. They must all go to Brighton. That is the
-place to get husbands. What a pity it is, mamma, we did not all go!”
-
-“Very true; and if I had my will we should. But, my dear Lydia, I don’t
-at all like your going such a way off. Must it be so?”
-
-“Oh, Lord! yes; there is nothing in that. I shall like it of all things.
-You and papa, and my sisters, must come down and see us. We shall be at
-Newcastle all the winter, and I dare say there will be some balls, and I
-will take care to get good partners for them all.”
-
-“I should like it beyond anything!” said her mother.
-
-“And then when you go away, you may leave one or two of my sisters
-behind you; and I dare say I shall get husbands for them before the
-winter is over.”
-
-“I thank you for my share of the favour,” said Elizabeth; “but I do not
-particularly like your way of getting husbands.”
-
-Their visitors were not to remain above ten days with them. Mr. Wickham
-had received his commission before he left London, and he was to join
-his regiment at the end of a fortnight.
-
-No one but Mrs. Bennet regretted that their stay would be so short; and
-she made the most of the time by visiting about with her daughter, and
-having very frequent parties at home. These parties were acceptable to
-all; to avoid a family circle was even more desirable to such as did
-think than such as did not.
-
-Wickham’s affection for Lydia was just what Elizabeth had expected to
-find it; not equal to Lydia’s for him. She had scarcely needed her
-present observation to be satisfied, from the reason of things, that
-their elopement had been brought on by the strength of her love rather
-than by his; and she would have wondered why, without violently caring
-for her, he chose to elope with her at all, had she not felt certain
-that his flight was rendered necessary by distress of circumstances; and
-if that were the case, he was not the young man to resist an opportunity
-of having a companion.
-
-Lydia was exceedingly fond of him. He was her dear Wickham on every
-occasion; no one was to be put in competition with him. He did
-everything best in the world; and she was sure he would kill more birds
-on the first of September than anybody else in the country.
-
-One morning, soon after their arrival, as she was sitting with her two
-elder sisters, she said to Elizabeth,--
-
-“Lizzy, I never gave _you_ an account of my wedding, I believe. You were
-not by, when I told mamma, and the others, all about it. Are not you
-curious to hear how it was managed?”
-
-“No, really,” replied Elizabeth; “I think there cannot be too little
-said on the subject.”
-
-“La! You are so strange! But I must tell you how it went off. We were
-married, you know, at St. Clement’s, because Wickham’s lodgings were in
-that parish. And it was settled that we should all be there by eleven
-o’clock. My uncle and aunt and I were to go together; and the others
-were to meet us at the church.
-
-“Well, Monday morning came, and I was in such a fuss! I was so afraid,
-you know, that something would happen to put it off, and then I should
-have gone quite distracted. And there was my aunt, all the time I was
-dressing, preaching and talking away just as if she was reading a
-sermon. However, I did not hear above one word in ten, for I was
-thinking, you may suppose, of my dear Wickham. I longed to know whether
-he would be married in his blue coat.
-
-“Well, and so we breakfasted at ten as usual: I thought it would never
-be over; for, by the bye, you are to understand that my uncle and aunt
-were horrid unpleasant all the time I was with them. If you’ll believe
-me, I did not once put my foot out of doors, though I was there a
-fortnight. Not one party, or scheme, or anything! To be sure, London was
-rather thin, but, however, the Little Theatre was open.
-
-“Well, and so, just as the carriage came to the door, my uncle was
-called away upon business to that horrid man Mr. Stone. And then, you
-know, when once they get together, there is no end of it. Well, I was so
-frightened I did not know what to do, for my uncle was to give me away;
-and if we were beyond the hour we could not be married all day. But,
-luckily, he came back again in ten minutes’ time, and then we all set
-out. However, I recollected afterwards, that if he _had_ been prevented
-going, the wedding need not be put off, for Mr. Darcy might have done as
-well.”
-
-“Mr. Darcy!” repeated Elizabeth, in utter amazement.
-
-“Oh, yes! he was to come there with Wickham, you know. But, gracious me!
-I quite forgot! I ought not to have said a word about it. I promised
-them so faithfully! What will Wickham say? It was to be such a secret!”
-
-“If it was to be a secret,” said Jane, “say not another word on the
-subject. You may depend upon my seeking no further.”
-
-“Oh, certainly,” said Elizabeth, though burning with curiosity; “we will
-ask you no questions.”
-
-“Thank you,” said Lydia; “for if you did, I should certainly tell you
-all, and then Wickham would be so angry.”
-
-On such encouragement to ask, Elizabeth was forced to put it out of her
-power, by running away.
-
-But to live in ignorance on such a point was impossible; or at least it
-was impossible not to try for information. Mr. Darcy had been at her
-sister’s wedding. It was exactly a scene, and exactly among people,
-where he had apparently least to do, and least temptation to go.
-Conjectures as to the meaning of it, rapid and wild, hurried into her
-brain; but she was satisfied with none. Those that best pleased her, as
-placing his conduct in the noblest light, seemed most improbable. She
-could not bear such suspense; and hastily seizing a sheet of paper,
-wrote a short letter to her aunt, to request an explanation of what
-Lydia had dropped, if it were compatible with the secrecy which had been
-intended.
-
-“You may readily comprehend,” she added, “what my curiosity must be to
-know how a person unconnected with any of us, and, comparatively
-speaking, a stranger to our family, should have been amongst you at such
-a time. Pray write instantly, and let me understand it--unless it is,
-for very cogent reasons, to remain in the secrecy which Lydia seems to
-think necessary; and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with
-ignorance.”
-
-“Not that I _shall_, though,” she added to herself, and she finished the
-letter; “and, my dear aunt, if you do not tell me in an honourable
-manner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find it
-out.”
-
-Jane’s delicate sense of honour would not allow her to speak to
-Elizabeth privately of what Lydia had let fall; Elizabeth was glad of
-it:--till it appeared whether her inquiries would receive any
-satisfaction, she had rather be without a confidante.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“I am sure she did not listen.”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER LII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Elizabeth had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to her letter as
-soon as she possibly could. She was no sooner in possession of it, than
-hurrying into the little copse, where she was least likely to be
-interrupted, she sat down on one of the benches, and prepared to be
-happy; for the length of the letter convinced her that it did not
-contain a denial.
-
- /* RIGHT “Gracechurch Street, _Sept. 6_. */
-
-“My dear Niece,
-
- “I have just received your letter, and shall devote this whole
- morning to answering it, as I foresee that a _little_ writing will
- not comprise what I have to tell you. I must confess myself
- surprised by your application; I did not expect it from _you_.
- Don’t think me angry, however, for I only mean to let you know,
- that I had not imagined such inquiries to be necessary on _your_
- side. If you do not choose to understand me, forgive my
- impertinence. Your uncle is as much surprised as I am; and nothing
- but the belief of your being a party concerned would have allowed
- him to act as he has done. But if you are really innocent and
- ignorant, I must be more explicit. On the very day of my coming
- home from Longbourn, your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. Mr.
- Darcy called, and was shut up with him several hours. It was all
- over before I arrived; so my curiosity was not so dreadfully racked
- as _yours_ seems to have been. He came to tell Mr. Gardiner that he
- had found out where your sister and Mr. Wickham were, and that he
- had seen and talked with them both--Wickham repeatedly, Lydia once.
- From what I can collect, he left Derbyshire only one day after
- ourselves, and came to town with the resolution of hunting for
- them. The motive professed was his conviction of its being owing to
- himself that Wickham’s worthlessness had not been so well known as
- to make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or
- confide in him. He generously imputed the whole to his mistaken
- pride, and confessed that he had before thought it beneath him to
- lay his private actions open to the world. His character was to
- speak for itself. He called it, therefore, his duty to step
- forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil which had been brought on
- by himself. If he _had another_ motive, I am sure it would never
- disgrace him. He had been some days in town before he was able to
- discover them; but he had something to direct his search, which was
- more than _we_ had; and the consciousness of this was another
- reason for his resolving to follow us. There is a lady, it seems, a
- Mrs. Younge, who was some time ago governess to Miss Darcy, and was
- dismissed from her charge on some cause of disapprobation, though
- he did not say what. She then took a large house in Edward Street,
- and has since maintained herself by letting lodgings. This Mrs.
- Younge was, he knew, intimately acquainted with Wickham; and he
- went to her for intelligence of him, as soon as he got to town. But
- it was two or three days before he could get from her what he
- wanted. She would not betray her trust, I suppose, without bribery
- and corruption, for she really did know where her friend was to be
- found. Wickham, indeed, had gone to her on their first arrival in
- London; and had she been able to receive them into her house, they
- would have taken up their abode with her. At length, however, our
- kind friend procured the wished-for direction. They were in ----
- Street. He saw Wickham, and afterwards insisted on seeing Lydia.
- His first object with her, he acknowledged, had been to persuade
- her to quit her present disgraceful situation, and return to her
- friends as soon as they could be prevailed on to receive her,
- offering his assistance as far as it would go. But he found Lydia
- absolutely resolved on remaining where she was. She cared for none
- of her friends; she wanted no help of his; she would not hear of
- leaving Wickham. She was sure they should be married some time or
- other, and it did not much signify when. Since such were her
- feelings, it only remained, he thought, to secure and expedite a
- marriage, which, in his very first conversation with Wickham, he
- easily learnt had never been _his_ design. He confessed himself
- obliged to leave the regiment on account of some debts of honour
- which were very pressing; and scrupled not to lay all the ill
- consequences of Lydia’s flight on her own folly alone. He meant to
- resign his commission immediately; and as to his future situation,
- he could conjecture very little about it. He must go somewhere, but
- he did not know where, and he knew he should have nothing to live
- on. Mr. Darcy asked why he did not marry your sister at once.
- Though Mr. Bennet was not imagined to be very rich, he would have
- been able to do something for him, and his situation must have been
- benefited by marriage. But he found, in reply to this question,
- that Wickham still cherished the hope of more effectually making
- his fortune by marriage, in some other country. Under such
- circumstances, however, he was not likely to be proof against the
- temptation of immediate relief. They met several times, for there
- was much to be discussed. Wickham, of course, wanted more than he
- could get; but at length was reduced to be reasonable. Everything
- being settled between _them_, Mr. Darcy’s next step was to make
- your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Gracechurch
- Street the evening before I came home. But Mr. Gardiner could not
- be seen; and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father
- was still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did
- not judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly
- consult as your uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him
- till after the departure of the former. He did not leave his name,
- and till the next day it was only known that a gentleman had called
- on business. On Saturday he came again. Your father was gone, your
- uncle at home, and, as I said before, they had a great deal of talk
- together. They met again on Sunday, and then _I_ saw him too. It
- was not all settled before Monday: as soon as it was, the express
- was sent off to Longbourn. But our visitor was very obstinate. I
- fancy, Lizzy, that obstinacy is the real defect of his character,
- after all. He has been accused of many faults at different times;
- but _this_ is the true one. Nothing was to be done that he did not
- do himself; though I am sure (and I do not speak it to be thanked,
- therefore say nothing about it) your uncle would most readily have
- settled the whole. They battled it together for a long time, which
- was more than either the gentleman or lady concerned in it
- deserved. But at last your uncle was forced to yield, and instead
- of being allowed to be of use to his niece, was forced to put up
- with only having the probable credit of it, which went sorely
- against the grain; and I really believe your letter this morning
- gave him great pleasure, because it required an explanation that
- would rob him of his borrowed feathers, and give the praise where
- it was due. But, Lizzy, this must go no further than yourself, or
- Jane at most. You know pretty well, I suppose, what has been done
- for the young people. His debts are to be paid, amounting, I
- believe, to considerably more than a thousand pounds, another
- thousand in addition to her own settled upon _her_, and his
- commission purchased. The reason why all this was to be done by him
- alone, was such as I have given above. It was owing to him, to his
- reserve and want of proper consideration, that Wickham’s character
- had been so misunderstood, and consequently that he had been
- received and noticed as he was. Perhaps there was some truth in
- _this_; though I doubt whether _his_ reserve, or _anybody’s_
- reserve can be answerable for the event. But in spite of all this
- fine talking, my dear Lizzy, you may rest perfectly assured that
- your uncle would never have yielded, if we had not given him credit
- for _another interest_ in the affair. When all this was resolved
- on, he returned again to his friends, who were still staying at
- Pemberley; but it was agreed that he should be in London once more
- when the wedding took place, and all money matters were then to
- receive the last finish. I believe I have now told you everything.
- It is a relation which you tell me is to give you great surprise; I
- hope at least it will not afford you any displeasure. Lydia came to
- us, and Wickham had constant admission to the house. _He_ was
- exactly what he had been when I knew him in Hertfordshire; but I
- would not tell you how little I was satisfied with _her_ behaviour
- while she stayed with us, if I had not perceived, by Jane’s letter
- last Wednesday, that her conduct on coming home was exactly of a
- piece with it, and therefore what I now tell you can give you no
- fresh pain. I talked to her repeatedly in the most serious manner,
- representing to her the wickedness of what she had done, and all
- the unhappiness she had brought on her family. If she heard me, it
- was by good luck, for I am sure she did not listen. I was sometimes
- quite provoked; but then I recollected my dear Elizabeth and Jane,
- and for their sakes had patience with her. Mr. Darcy was punctual
- in his return, and, as Lydia informed you, attended the wedding. He
- dined with us the next day, and was to leave town again on
- Wednesday or Thursday. Will you be very angry with me, my dear
- Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying (what I was never bold
- enough to say before) how much I like him? His behaviour to us has,
- in every respect, been as pleasing as when we were in Derbyshire.
- His understanding and opinions all please me; he wants nothing but
- a little more liveliness, and _that_, if he marry _prudently_, his
- wife may teach him. I thought him very sly; he hardly ever
- mentioned your name. But slyness seems the fashion. Pray forgive
- me, if I have been very presuming, or at least do not punish me so
- far as to exclude me from P. I shall never be quite happy till I
- have been all round the park. A low phaeton with a nice little pair
- of ponies would be the very thing. But I must write no more. The
- children have been wanting me this half hour.
-
-“Yours, very sincerely,
-
-“M. GARDINER.”
-
-
-The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth into a flutter of spirits,
-in which it was difficult to determine whether pleasure or pain bore the
-greatest share. The vague and unsettled suspicions which uncertainty had
-produced, of what Mr. Darcy might have been doing to forward her
-sister’s match--which she had feared to encourage, as an exertion of
-goodness too great to be probable, and at the same time dreaded to be
-just, from the pain of obligation--were proved beyond their greatest
-extent to be true! He had followed them purposely to town, he had taken
-on himself all the trouble and mortification attendant on such a
-research; in which supplication had been necessary to a woman whom he
-must abominate and despise, and where he was reduced to meet, frequently
-meet, reason with, persuade, and finally bribe the man whom he always
-most wished to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to
-pronounce. He had done all this for a girl whom he could neither regard
-nor esteem. Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her. But it
-was a hope shortly checked by other considerations; and she soon felt
-that even her vanity was insufficient, when required to depend on his
-affection for her, for a woman who had already refused him, as able to
-overcome a sentiment so natural as abhorrence against relationship with
-Wickham. Brother-in-law of Wickham! Every kind of pride must revolt from
-the connection. He had, to be sure, done much. She was ashamed to think
-how much. But he had given a reason for his interference, which asked no
-extraordinary stretch of belief. It was reasonable that he should feel
-he had been wrong; he had liberality, and he had the means of exercising
-it; and though she would not place herself as his principal inducement,
-she could perhaps believe, that remaining partiality for her might
-assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind must be
-materially concerned. It was painful, exceedingly painful, to know that
-they were under obligations to a person who could never receive a
-return. They owed the restoration of Lydia, her character, everything to
-him. Oh, how heartily did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she
-had ever encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed towards
-him! For herself she was humbled; but she was proud of him,--proud that
-in a cause of compassion and honour he had been able to get the better
-of himself. She read over her aunt’s commendation of him again and
-again. It was hardly enough; but it pleased her. She was even sensible
-of some pleasure, though mixed with regret, on finding how steadfastly
-both she and her uncle had been persuaded that affection and confidence
-subsisted between Mr. Darcy and herself.
-
-She was roused from her seat and her reflections, by someone’s approach;
-and, before she could strike into another path, she was overtaken by
-Wickham.
-
-“I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear sister?” said he,
-as he joined her.
-
-“You certainly do,” she replied with a smile; “but it does not follow
-that the interruption must be unwelcome.”
-
-“I should be sorry, indeed, if it were. _We_ were always good friends,
-and now we are better.”
-
-“True. Are the others coming out?”
-
-“I do not know. Mrs. Bennet and Lydia are going in the carriage to
-Meryton. And so, my dear sister, I find, from our uncle and aunt, that
-you have actually seen Pemberley.”
-
-She replied in the affirmative.
-
-“I almost envy you the pleasure, and yet I believe it would be too much
-for me, or else I could take it in my way to Newcastle. And you saw the
-old housekeeper, I suppose? Poor Reynolds, she was always very fond of
-me. But of course she did not mention my name to you.”
-
-“Yes, she did.”
-
-“And what did she say?”
-
-“That you were gone into the army, and she was afraid had--not turned
-out well. At such a distance as _that_, you know, things are strangely
-misrepresented.”
-
-“Certainly,” he replied, biting his lips. Elizabeth hoped she had
-silenced him; but he soon afterwards said,--
-
-“I was surprised to see Darcy in town last month. We passed each other
-several times. I wonder what he can be doing there.”
-
-“Perhaps preparing for his marriage with Miss de Bourgh,” said
-Elizabeth. “It must be something particular to take him there at this
-time of year.”
-
-“Undoubtedly. Did you see him while you were at Lambton? I thought I
-understood from the Gardiners that you had.”
-
-“Yes; he introduced us to his sister.”
-
-“And do you like her?”
-
-“Very much.”
-
-“I have heard, indeed, that she is uncommonly improved within this year
-or two. When I last saw her, she was not very promising. I am very glad
-you liked her. I hope she will turn out well.”
-
-“I dare say she will; she has got over the most trying age.”
-
-“Did you go by the village of Kympton?”
-
-“I do not recollect that we did.”
-
-“I mention it because it is the living which I ought to have had. A most
-delightful place! Excellent parsonage-house! It would have suited me in
-every respect.”
-
-“How should you have liked making sermons?”
-
-“Exceedingly well. I should have considered it as part of my duty, and
-the exertion would soon have been nothing. One ought not to repine; but,
-to be sure, it would have been such a thing for me! The quiet, the
-retirement of such a life, would have answered all my ideas of
-happiness! But it was not to be. Did you ever hear Darcy mention the
-circumstance when you were in Kent?”
-
-“I _have_ heard from authority, which I thought _as good_, that it was
-left you conditionally only, and at the will of the present patron.”
-
-“You have! Yes, there was something in _that_; I told you so from the
-first, you may remember.”
-
-“I _did_ hear, too, that there was a time when sermon-making was not so
-palatable to you as it seems to be at present; that you actually
-declared your resolution of never taking orders, and that the business
-had been compromised accordingly.”
-
-“You did! and it was not wholly without foundation. You may remember
-what I told you on that point, when first we talked of it.”
-
-They were now almost at the door of the house, for she had walked fast
-to get rid of him; and unwilling, for her sister’s sake, to provoke him,
-she only said in reply, with a good-humoured smile,--
-
-“Come, Mr. Wickham, we are brother and sister, you know. Do not let us
-quarrel about the past. In future, I hope we shall be always of one
-mind.”
-
-She held out her hand: he kissed it with affectionate gallantry, though
-he hardly knew how to look, and they entered the house.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“Mr. Darcy with him.”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER LIII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Mr. Wickham was so perfectly satisfied with this conversation, that he
-never again distressed himself, or provoked his dear sister Elizabeth,
-by introducing the subject of it; and she was pleased to find that she
-had said enough to keep him quiet.
-
-The day of his and Lydia’s departure soon came; and Mrs. Bennet was
-forced to submit to a separation, which, as her husband by no means
-entered into her scheme of their all going to Newcastle, was likely to
-continue at least a twelvemonth.
-
-“Oh, my dear Lydia,” she cried, “when shall we meet again?”
-
-“Oh, Lord! I don’t know. Not these two or three years, perhaps.”
-
-“Write to me very often, my dear.”
-
-“As often as I can. But you know married women have never much time for
-writing. My sisters may write to _me_. They will have nothing else to
-do.”
-
-Mr. Wickham’s adieus were much more affectionate than his wife’s. He
-smiled, looked handsome, and said many pretty things.
-
-“He is as fine a fellow,” said Mr. Bennet, as soon as they were out of
-the house, “as ever I saw. He simpers, and smirks, and makes love to us
-all. I am prodigiously proud of him. I defy even Sir William Lucas
-himself to produce a more valuable son-in-law.”
-
-The loss of her daughter made Mrs. Bennet very dull for several days.
-
-“I often think,” said she, “that there is nothing so bad as parting with
-one’s friends. One seems so forlorn without them.”
-
-“This is the consequence, you see, madam, of marrying a daughter,” said
-Elizabeth. “It must make you better satisfied that your other four are
-single.”
-
-“It is no such thing. Lydia does not leave me because she is married;
-but only because her husband’s regiment happens to be so far off. If
-that had been nearer, she would not have gone so soon.”
-
-But the spiritless condition which this event threw her into was shortly
-relieved, and her mind opened again to the agitation of hope, by an
-article of news which then began to be in circulation. The housekeeper
-at Netherfield had received orders to prepare for the arrival of her
-master, who was coming down in a day or two, to shoot there for several
-weeks. Mrs. Bennet was quite in the fidgets. She looked at Jane, and
-smiled, and shook her head, by turns.
-
-“Well, well, and so Mr. Bingley is coming down, sister,” (for Mrs.
-Philips first brought her the news). “Well, so much the better. Not that
-I care about it, though. He is nothing to us, you know, and I am sure I
-never want to see him again. But, however, he is very welcome to come to
-Netherfield, if he likes it. And who knows what _may_ happen? But that
-is nothing to us. You know, sister, we agreed long ago never to mention
-a word about it. And so, it is quite certain he is coming?”
-
-“You may depend on it,” replied the other, “for Mrs. Nichols was in
-Meryton last night: I saw her passing by, and went out myself on purpose
-to know the truth of it; and she told me that it was certainly true. He
-comes down on Thursday, at the latest, very likely on Wednesday. She was
-going to the butcher’s, she told me, on purpose to order in some meat on
-Wednesday, and she has got three couple of ducks just fit to be killed.”
-
-Miss Bennet had not been able to hear of his coming without changing
-colour. It was many months since she had mentioned his name to
-Elizabeth; but now, as soon as they were alone together, she said,--
-
-“I saw you look at me to-day, Lizzy, when my aunt told us of the present
-report; and I know I appeared distressed; but don’t imagine it was from
-any silly cause. I was only confused for the moment, because I felt that
-I _should_ be looked at. I do assure you that the news does not affect
-me either with pleasure or pain. I am glad of one thing, that he comes
-alone; because we shall see the less of him. Not that I am afraid of
-_myself_, but I dread other people’s remarks.”
-
-Elizabeth did not know what to make of it. Had she not seen him in
-Derbyshire, she might have supposed him capable of coming there with no
-other view than what was acknowledged; but she still thought him partial
-to Jane, and she wavered as to the greater probability of his coming
-there _with_ his friend’s permission, or being bold enough to come
-without it.
-
-“Yet it is hard,” she sometimes thought, “that this poor man cannot come
-to a house, which he has legally hired, without raising all this
-speculation! I _will_ leave him to himself.”
-
-In spite of what her sister declared, and really believed to be her
-feelings, in the expectation of his arrival, Elizabeth could easily
-perceive that her spirits were affected by it. They were more disturbed,
-more unequal, than she had often seen them.
-
-The subject which had been so warmly canvassed between their parents,
-about a twelvemonth ago, was now brought forward again.
-
-“As soon as ever Mr. Bingley comes, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “you
-will wait on him, of course.”
-
-“No, no. You forced me into visiting him last year, and promised, if I
-went to see him, he should marry one of my daughters. But it ended in
-nothing, and I will not be sent on a fool’s errand again.”
-
-His wife represented to him how absolutely necessary such an attention
-would be from all the neighbouring gentlemen, on his returning to
-Netherfield.
-
-“’Tis an _etiquette_ I despise,” said he. “If he wants our society, let
-him seek it. He knows where we live. I will not spend _my_ hours in
-running after my neighbours every time they go away and come back
-again.”
-
-“Well, all I know is, that it will be abominably rude if you do not wait
-on him. But, however, that shan’t prevent my asking him to dine here, I
-am determined. We must have Mrs. Long and the Gouldings soon. That will
-make thirteen with ourselves, so there will be just room at table for
-him.”
-
-Consoled by this resolution, she was the better able to bear her
-husband’s incivility; though it was very mortifying to know that her
-neighbours might all see Mr. Bingley, in consequence of it, before
-_they_ did. As the day of his arrival drew near,--
-
-“I begin to be sorry that he comes at all,” said Jane to her sister. “It
-would be nothing; I could see him with perfect indifference; but I can
-hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually talked of. My mother means well;
-but she does not know, no one can know, how much I suffer from what she
-says. Happy shall I be when his stay at Netherfield is over!”
-
-“I wish I could say anything to comfort you,” replied Elizabeth; “but it
-is wholly out of my power. You must feel it; and the usual satisfaction
-of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied me, because you have
-always so much.”
-
-Mr. Bingley arrived. Mrs. Bennet, through the assistance of servants,
-contrived to have the earliest tidings of it, that the period of anxiety
-and fretfulness on her side be as long as it could. She counted the days
-that must intervene before their invitation could be sent--hopeless of
-seeing him before. But on the third morning after his arrival in
-Hertfordshire, she saw him from her dressing-room window enter the
-paddock, and ride towards the house.
-
-Her daughters were eagerly called to partake of her joy. Jane resolutely
-kept her place at the table; but Elizabeth, to satisfy her mother, went
-to the window--she looked--she saw Mr. Darcy with him, and sat down
-again by her sister.
-
-“There is a gentleman with him, mamma,” said Kitty; “who can it be?”
-
-“Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I do not
-know.”
-
-“La!” replied Kitty, “it looks just like that man that used to be with
-him before. Mr. what’s his name--that tall, proud man.”
-
-“Good gracious! Mr. Darcy!--and so it does, I vow. Well, any friend of
-Mr. Bingley’s will always be welcome here, to be sure; but else I must
-say that I hate the very sight of him.”
-
-Jane looked at Elizabeth with surprise and concern. She knew but little
-of their meeting in Derbyshire, and therefore felt for the awkwardness
-which must attend her sister, in seeing him almost for the first time
-after receiving his explanatory letter. Both sisters were uncomfortable
-enough. Each felt for the other, and of course for themselves; and their
-mother talked on of her dislike of Mr. Darcy, and her resolution to be
-civil to him only as Mr. Bingley’s friend, without being heard by either
-of them. But Elizabeth had sources of uneasiness which could not yet be
-suspected by Jane, to whom she had never yet had courage to show Mrs.
-Gardiner’s letter, or to relate her own change of sentiment towards
-him. To Jane, he could be only a man whose proposals she had refused,
-and whose merits she had undervalued; but to her own more extensive
-information, he was the person to whom the whole family were indebted
-for the first of benefits, and whom she regarded herself with an
-interest, if not quite so tender, at least as reasonable and just, as
-what Jane felt for Bingley. Her astonishment at his coming--at his
-coming to Netherfield, to Longbourn, and voluntarily seeking her again,
-was almost equal to what she had known on first witnessing his altered
-behaviour in Derbyshire.
-
-The colour which had been driven from her face returned for half a
-minute with an additional glow, and a smile of delight added lustre to
-her eyes, as she thought for that space of time that his affection and
-wishes must still be unshaken; but she would not be secure.
-
-“Let me first see how he behaves,” said she; “it will then be early
-enough for expectation.”
-
-She sat intently at work, striving to be composed, and without daring to
-lift up her eyes, till anxious curiosity carried them to the face of her
-sister as the servant was approaching the door. Jane looked a little
-paler than usual, but more sedate than Elizabeth had expected. On the
-gentlemen’s appearing, her colour increased; yet she received them with
-tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any
-symptom of resentment, or any unnecessary complaisance.
-
-Elizabeth said as little to either as civility would allow, and sat down
-again to her work, with an eagerness which it did not often command. She
-had ventured only one glance at Darcy. He looked serious as usual; and,
-she thought, more as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, than as
-she had seen him at Pemberley. But, perhaps, he could not in her
-mother’s presence be what he was before her uncle and aunt. It was a
-painful, but not an improbable, conjecture.
-
-Bingley she had likewise seen for an instant, and in that short period
-saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. He was received by Mrs.
-Bennet with a degree of civility which made her two daughters ashamed,
-especially when contrasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness of
-her courtesy and address of his friend.
-
-Elizabeth particularly, who knew that her mother owed to the latter the
-preservation of her favourite daughter from irremediable infamy, was
-hurt and distressed to a most painful degree by a distinction so ill
-applied.
-
-Darcy, after inquiring of her how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did--a question
-which she could not answer without confusion--said scarcely anything. He
-was not seated by her: perhaps that was the reason of his silence; but
-it had not been so in Derbyshire. There he had talked to her friends
-when he could not to herself. But now several minutes elapsed, without
-bringing the sound of his voice; and when occasionally, unable to resist
-the impulse of curiosity, she raised her eyes to his face, she as often
-found him looking at Jane as at herself, and frequently on no object but
-the ground. More thoughtfulness and less anxiety to please, than when
-they last met, were plainly expressed. She was disappointed, and angry
-with herself for being so.
-
-“Could I expect it to be otherwise?” said she. “Yet why did he come?”
-
-She was in no humour for conversation with anyone but himself; and to
-him she had hardly courage to speak.
-
-She inquired after his sister, but could do no more.
-
-“It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away,” said Mrs. Bennet.
-
-He readily agreed to it.
-
-“I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People _did_ say,
-you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope
-it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood
-since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled: and one of my
-own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have
-seen it in the papers. It was in the ‘Times’ and the ‘Courier,’ I know;
-though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, ‘Lately,
-George Wickham, Esq., to Miss Lydia Bennet,’ without there being a
-syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything.
-It was my brother Gardiner’s drawing up, too, and I wonder how he came
-to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?”
-
-Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations. Elizabeth
-dared not lift up her eyes. How Mr. Darcy looked, therefore, she could
-not tell.
-
-“It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married,”
-continued her mother; “but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very
-hard to have her taken away from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a
-place quite northward it seems, and there they are to stay, I do not
-know how long. His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of
-his leaving the ----shire, and of his being gone into the Regulars.
-Thank heaven! he has _some_ friends, though, perhaps, not so many as he
-deserves.”
-
-Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr. Darcy, was in such misery
-of shame that she could hardly keep her seat. It drew from her, however,
-the exertion of speaking, which nothing else had so effectually done
-before; and she asked Bingley whether he meant to make any stay in the
-country at present. A few weeks, he believed.
-
-“When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley,” said her mother,
-“I beg you will come here and shoot as many as you please on Mr.
-Bennet’s manor. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and
-will save all the best of the coveys for you.”
-
-Elizabeth’s misery increased at such unnecessary, such officious
-attention! Were the same fair prospect to arise at present, as had
-flattered them a year ago, everything, she was persuaded, would be
-hastening to the same vexatious conclusion. At that instant she felt,
-that years of happiness could not make Jane or herself amends for
-moments of such painful confusion.
-
-“The first wish of my heart,” said she to herself, “is never more to be
-in company with either of them. Their society can afford no pleasure
-that will atone for such wretchedness as this! Let me never see either
-one or the other again!”
-
-Yet the misery, for which years of happiness were to offer no
-compensation, received soon afterwards material relief, from observing
-how much the beauty of her sister rekindled the admiration of her former
-lover. When first he came in, he had spoken to her but little, but every
-five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his attention. He found her
-as handsome as she had been last year; as good-natured, and as
-unaffected, though not quite so chatty. Jane was anxious that no
-difference should be perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded
-that she talked as much as ever; but her mind was so busily engaged,
-that she did not always know when she was silent.
-
-When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet was mindful of her
-intended civility, and they were invited and engaged to dine at
-Longbourn in a few days’ time.
-
-“You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley,” she added; “for when
-you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with
-us as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you
-I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your
-engagement.”
-
-Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of
-his concern at having been prevented by business. They then went away.
-
-Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and dine
-there that day; but, though she always kept a very good table, she did
-not think anything less than two courses could be good enough for a man
-on whom she had such anxious designs, or satisfy the appetite and pride
-of one who had ten thousand a year.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “Jane happened to look round”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER LIV.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-As soon as they were gone, Elizabeth walked out to recover her spirits;
-or, in other words, to dwell without interruption on those subjects
-which must deaden them more. Mr. Darcy’s behaviour astonished and vexed
-her.
-
-“Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent,” said she,
-“did he come at all?”
-
-She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure.
-
-“He could be still amiable, still pleasing to my uncle and aunt, when he
-was in town; and why not to me? If he fears me, why come hither? If he
-no longer cares for me, why silent? Teasing, teasing man! I will think
-no more about him.”
-
-Her resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept by the approach
-of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful look which showed her
-better satisfied with their visitors than Elizabeth.
-
-“Now,” said she, “that this first meeting is over, I feel perfectly
-easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be embarrassed again by
-his coming. I am glad he dines here on Tuesday. It will then be publicly
-seen, that on both sides we meet only as common and indifferent
-acquaintance.”
-
-“Yes, very indifferent, indeed,” said Elizabeth, laughingly. “Oh, Jane!
-take care.”
-
-“My dear Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak as to be in danger now.”
-
-“I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with
-you as ever.”
-
-They did not see the gentlemen again till Tuesday; and Mrs. Bennet, in
-the meanwhile, was giving way to all the happy schemes which the
-good-humour and common politeness of Bingley, in half an hour’s visit,
-had revived.
-
-On Tuesday there was a large party assembled at Longbourn; and the two
-who were most anxiously expected, to the credit of their punctuality as
-sportsmen, were in very good time. When they repaired to the
-dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to see whether Bingley would take
-the place which, in all their former parties, had belonged to him, by
-her sister. Her prudent mother, occupied by the same ideas, forbore to
-invite him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he seemed to
-hesitate; but Jane happened to look round, and happened to smile: it was
-decided. He placed himself by her.
-
-Elizabeth, with a triumphant sensation, looked towards his friend. He
-bore it with noble indifference; and she would have imagined that
-Bingley had received his sanction to be happy, had she not seen his eyes
-likewise turned towards Mr. Darcy, with an expression of half-laughing
-alarm.
-
-His behaviour to her sister was such during dinnertime as showed an
-admiration of her, which, though more guarded than formerly, persuaded
-Elizabeth, that, if left wholly to himself, Jane’s happiness, and his
-own, would be speedily secured. Though she dared not depend upon the
-consequence, she yet received pleasure from observing his behaviour. It
-gave her all the animation that her spirits could boast; for she was in
-no cheerful humour. Mr. Darcy was almost as far from her as the table
-could divide them. He was on one side of her mother. She knew how little
-such a situation would give pleasure to either, or make either appear to
-advantage. She was not near enough to hear any of their discourse; but
-she could see how seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal and
-cold was their manner whenever they did. Her mother’s ungraciousness
-made the sense of what they owed him more painful to Elizabeth’s mind;
-and she would, at times, have given anything to be privileged to tell
-him, that his kindness was neither unknown nor unfelt by the whole of
-the family.
-
-She was in hopes that the evening would afford some opportunity of
-bringing them together; that the whole of the visit would not pass away
-without enabling them to enter into something more of conversation,
-than the mere ceremonious salutation attending his entrance. Anxious and
-uneasy, the period which passed in the drawing-room before the gentlemen
-came, was wearisome and dull to a degree that almost made her uncivil.
-She looked forward to their entrance as the point on which all her
-chance of pleasure for the evening must depend.
-
-“If he does not come to me, _then_,” said she, “I shall give him up for
-ever.”
-
-The gentlemen came; and she thought he looked as if he would have
-answered her hopes; but, alas! the ladies had crowded round the table,
-where Miss Bennet was making tea, and Elizabeth pouring out the coffee,
-in so close a confederacy, that there was not a single vacancy near her
-which would admit of a chair. And on the gentlemen’s approaching, one of
-the girls moved closer to her than ever, and said, in a whisper,--
-
-“The men shan’t come and part us, I am determined. We want none of them;
-do we?”
-
-Darcy had walked away to another part of the room. She followed him with
-her eyes, envied everyone to whom he spoke, had scarcely patience enough
-to help anybody to coffee, and then was enraged against herself for
-being so silly!
-
-“A man who has once been refused! How could I ever be foolish enough to
-expect a renewal of his love? Is there one among the sex who would not
-protest against such a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman?
-There is no indignity so abhorrent to their feelings.”
-
-She was a little revived, however, by his bringing back his coffee-cup
-himself; and she seized the opportunity of saying,--
-
-“Is your sister at Pemberley still?”
-
-“Yes; she will remain there till Christmas.”
-
-“And quite alone? Have all her friends left her?”
-
-“Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others have been gone on to Scarborough
-these three weeks.”
-
-She could think of nothing more to say; but if he wished to converse
-with her, he might have better success. He stood by her, however, for
-some minutes, in silence; and, at last, on the young lady’s whispering
-to Elizabeth again, he walked away.
-
-When the tea things were removed, and the card tables placed, the ladies
-all rose; and Elizabeth was then hoping to be soon joined by him, when
-all her views were overthrown, by seeing him fall a victim to her
-mother’s rapacity for whist players, and in a few moments after seated
-with the rest of the party. She now lost every expectation of pleasure.
-They were confined for the evening at different tables; and she had
-nothing to hope, but that his eyes were so often turned towards her side
-of the room, as to make him play as unsuccessfully as herself.
-
-Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the two Netherfield gentlemen to
-supper; but their carriage was, unluckily, ordered before any of the
-others, and she had no opportunity of detaining them.
-
-“Well, girls,” said she, as soon as they were left to themselves, “what
-say you to the day? I think everything has passed off uncommonly well, I
-assure you. The dinner was as well dressed as any I ever saw. The
-venison was roasted to a turn--and everybody said, they never saw so fat
-a haunch. The soup was fifty times better than what we had at the
-Lucases’ last week; and even Mr. Darcy acknowledged that the partridges
-were remarkably well done; and I suppose he has two or three French
-cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look in greater
-beauty. Mrs. Long said so too, for I asked her whether you did not. And
-what do you think she said besides? ‘Ah! Mrs. Bennet, we shall have her
-at Netherfield at last!’ She did, indeed. I do think Mrs. Long is as
-good a creature as ever lived--and her nieces are very pretty behaved
-girls, and not at all handsome: I like them prodigiously.”
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “M^{rs}. Long and her nieces.”
-]
-
-Mrs. Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits: she had seen enough of
-Bingley’s behaviour to Jane to be convinced that she would get him at
-last; and her expectations of advantage to her family, when in a happy
-humour, were so far beyond reason, that she was quite disappointed at
-not seeing him there again the next day, to make his proposals.
-
-“It has been a very agreeable day,” said Miss Bennet to Elizabeth. “The
-party seemed so well selected, so suitable one with the other. I hope we
-may often meet again.”
-
-Elizabeth smiled.
-
-“Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not suspect me. It mortifies me. I
-assure you that I have now learnt to enjoy his conversation as an
-agreeable and sensible young man without having a wish beyond it. I am
-perfectly satisfied, from what his manners now are, that he never had
-any design of engaging my affection. It is only that he is blessed with
-greater sweetness of address, and a stronger desire of generally
-pleasing, than any other man.”
-
-“You are very cruel,” said her sister, “you will not let me smile, and
-are provoking me to it every moment.”
-
-“How hard it is in some cases to be believed! And how impossible in
-others! But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I
-acknowledge?”
-
-“That is a question which I hardly know how to answer. We all love to
-instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth knowing. Forgive
-me; and if you persist in indifference, do not make _me_ your
-confidante.”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak to you.”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER LV.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-A few days after this visit, Mr. Bingley called again, and alone. His
-friend had left him that morning for London, but was to return home in
-ten days’ time. He sat with them above an hour, and was in remarkably
-good spirits. Mrs. Bennet invited him to dine with them; but, with many
-expressions of concern, he confessed himself engaged elsewhere.
-
-“Next time you call,” said she, “I hope we shall be more lucky.”
-
-He should be particularly happy at any time, etc., etc.; and if she
-would give him leave, would take an early opportunity of waiting on
-them.
-
-“Can you come to-morrow?”
-
-Yes, he had no engagement at all for to-morrow; and her invitation was
-accepted with alacrity.
-
-He came, and in such very good time, that the ladies were none of them
-dressed. In ran Mrs. Bennet to her daughters’ room, in her
-dressing-gown, and with her hair half finished, crying out,--
-
-“My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is come--Mr. Bingley is
-come. He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste. Here, Sarah, come to Miss
-Bennet this moment, and help her on with her gown. Never mind Miss
-Lizzy’s hair.”
-
-“We will be down as soon as we can,” said Jane; “but I dare say Kitty is
-forwarder than either of us, for she went upstairs half an hour ago.”
-
-“Oh! hang Kitty! what has she to do with it? Come, be quick, be quick!
-where is your sash, my dear?”
-
-But when her mother was gone, Jane would not be prevailed on to go down
-without one of her sisters.
-
-The same anxiety to get them by themselves was visible again in the
-evening. After tea, Mr. Bennet retired to the library, as was his
-custom, and Mary went upstairs to her instrument. Two obstacles of the
-five being thus removed, Mrs. Bennet sat looking and winking at
-Elizabeth and Catherine for a considerable time, without making any
-impression on them. Elizabeth would not observe her; and when at last
-Kitty did, she very innocently said, “What is the matter, mamma? What do
-you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?”
-
-“Nothing, child, nothing. I did not wink at you.” She then sat still
-five minutes longer; but unable to waste such a precious occasion, she
-suddenly got up, and saying to Kitty,--
-
-“Come here, my love, I want to speak to you,” took her out of the room.
-Jane instantly gave a look at Elizabeth which spoke her distress at such
-premeditation, and her entreaty that _she_ would not give in to it. In a
-few minutes, Mrs. Bennet half opened the door and called out,--
-
-“Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you.”
-
-Elizabeth was forced to go.
-
-“We may as well leave them by themselves, you know,” said her mother as
-soon as she was in the hall. “Kitty and I are going upstairs to sit in
-my dressing-room.”
-
-Elizabeth made no attempt to reason with her mother, but remained
-quietly in the hall till she and Kitty were out of sight, then returned
-into the drawing-room.
-
-Mrs. Bennet’s schemes for this day were ineffectual. Bingley was
-everything that was charming, except the professed lover of her
-daughter. His ease and cheerfulness rendered him a most agreeable
-addition to their evening party; and he bore with the ill-judged
-officiousness of the mother, and heard all her silly remarks with a
-forbearance and command of countenance particularly grateful to the
-daughter.
-
-He scarcely needed an invitation to stay supper; and before he went away
-an engagement was formed, chiefly through his own and Mrs. Bennet’s
-means, for his coming next morning to shoot with her husband.
-
-After this day, Jane said no more of her indifference. Not a word passed
-between the sisters concerning Bingley; but Elizabeth went to bed in the
-happy belief that all must speedily be concluded, unless Mr. Darcy
-returned within the stated time. Seriously, however, she felt tolerably
-persuaded that all this must have taken place with that gentleman’s
-concurrence.
-
-Bingley was punctual to his appointment; and he and Mr. Bennet spent the
-morning together, as had been agreed on. The latter was much more
-agreeable than his companion expected. There was nothing of presumption
-or folly in Bingley that could provoke his ridicule, or disgust him into
-silence; and he was more communicative, and less eccentric, than the
-other had ever seen him. Bingley of course returned with him to dinner;
-and in the evening Mrs. Bennet’s invention was again at work to get
-everybody away from him and her daughter. Elizabeth, who had a letter to
-write, went into the breakfast-room for that purpose soon after tea; for
-as the others were all going to sit down to cards, she could not be
-wanted to counteract her mother’s schemes.
-
-But on her returning to the drawing-room, when her letter was finished,
-she saw, to her infinite surprise, there was reason to fear that her
-mother had been too ingenious for her. On opening the door, she
-perceived her sister and Bingley standing together over the hearth, as
-if engaged in earnest conversation; and had this led to no suspicion,
-the faces of both, as they hastily turned round and moved away from each
-other, would have told it all. _Their_ situation was awkward enough; but
-_hers_ she thought was still worse. Not a syllable was uttered by
-either; and Elizabeth was on the point of going away again, when
-Bingley, who as well as the other had sat down, suddenly rose, and,
-whispering a few words to her sister, ran out of the room.
-
-Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth, where confidence would give
-pleasure; and, instantly embracing her, acknowledged, with the liveliest
-emotion, that she was the happiest creature in the world.
-
-“’Tis too much!” she added, “by far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh,
-why is not everybody as happy?”
-
-Elizabeth’s congratulations were given with a sincerity, a warmth, a
-delight, which words could but poorly express. Every sentence of
-kindness was a fresh source of happiness to Jane. But she would not
-allow herself to stay with her sister, or say half that remained to be
-said, for the present.
-
-“I must go instantly to my mother,” she cried. “I would not on any
-account trifle with her affectionate solicitude, or allow her to hear it
-from anyone but myself. He is gone to my father already. Oh, Lizzy, to
-know that what I have to relate will give such pleasure to all my dear
-family! how shall I bear so much happiness?”
-
-She then hastened away to her mother, who had purposely broken up the
-card-party, and was sitting upstairs with Kitty.
-
-Elizabeth, who was left by herself, now smiled at the rapidity and ease
-with which an affair was finally settled, that had given them so many
-previous months of suspense and vexation.
-
-“And this,” said she, “is the end of all his friend’s anxious
-circumspection! of all his sister’s falsehood and contrivance! the
-happiest, wisest, and most reasonable end!”
-
-In a few minutes she was joined by Bingley, whose conference with her
-father had been short and to the purpose.
-
-“Where is your sister?” said he hastily, as he opened the door.
-
-“With my mother upstairs. She will be down in a moment, I dare say.”
-
-He then shut the door, and, coming up to her, claimed the good wishes
-and affection of a sister. Elizabeth honestly and heartily expressed her
-delight in the prospect of their relationship. They shook hands with
-great cordiality; and then, till her sister came down, she had to listen
-to all he had to say of his own happiness, and of Jane’s perfections;
-and in spite of his being a lover, Elizabeth really believed all his
-expectations of felicity to be rationally founded, because they had for
-basis the excellent understanding and super-excellent disposition of
-Jane, and a general similarity of feeling and taste between her and
-himself.
-
-It was an evening of no common delight to them all; the satisfaction of
-Miss Bennet’s mind gave such a glow of sweet animation to her face, as
-made her look handsomer than ever. Kitty simpered and smiled, and hoped
-her turn was coming soon. Mrs. Bennet could not give her consent, or
-speak her approbation in terms warm enough to satisfy her feelings,
-though she talked to Bingley of nothing else, for half an hour; and when
-Mr. Bennet joined them at supper, his voice and manner plainly showed
-how really happy he was.
-
-Not a word, however, passed his lips in allusion to it, till their
-visitor took his leave for the night; but as soon as he was gone, he
-turned to his daughter and said,--
-
-“Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman.”
-
-Jane went to him instantly, kissed him, and thanked him for his
-goodness.
-
-“You are a good girl,” he replied, “and I have great pleasure in
-thinking you will be so happily settled. I have not a doubt of your
-doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means unlike. You are
-each of you so complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so
-easy, that every servant will cheat you; and so generous, that you will
-always exceed your income.”
-
-“I hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness in money matters would be
-unpardonable in _me_.”
-
-“Exceed their income! My dear Mr. Bennet,” cried his wife, “what are you
-talking of? Why, he has four or five thousand a year, and very likely
-more.” Then addressing her daughter, “Oh, my dear, dear Jane, I am so
-happy! I am sure I shan’t get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it
-would be. I always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not
-be so beautiful for nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw him, when
-he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought how likely it was
-that you should come together. Oh, he is the handsomest young man that
-ever was seen!”
-
-Wickham, Lydia, were all forgotten. Jane was beyond competition her
-favourite child. At that moment she cared for no other. Her younger
-sisters soon began to make interest with her for objects of happiness
-which she might in future be able to dispense.
-
-Mary petitioned for the use of the library at Netherfield; and Kitty
-begged very hard for a few balls there every winter.
-
-Bingley, from this time, was of course a daily visitor at Longbourn;
-coming frequently before breakfast, and always remaining till after
-supper; unless when some barbarous neighbour, who could not be enough
-detested, had given him an invitation to dinner, which he thought
-himself obliged to accept.
-
-Elizabeth had now but little time for conversation with her sister; for
-while he was present Jane had no attention to bestow on anyone else: but
-she found herself considerably useful to both of them, in those hours of
-separation that must sometimes occur. In the absence of Jane, he always
-attached himself to Elizabeth for the pleasure of talking of her; and
-when Bingley was gone, Jane constantly sought the same means of relief.
-
-“He has made me so happy,” said she, one evening, “by telling me that he
-was totally ignorant of my being in town last spring! I had not believed
-it possible.”
-
-“I suspected as much,” replied Elizabeth. “But how did he account for
-it?”
-
-“It must have been his sisters’ doing. They were certainly no friends to
-his acquaintance with me, which I cannot wonder at, since he might have
-chosen so much more advantageously in many respects. But when they see,
-as I trust they will, that their brother is happy with me, they will
-learn to be contented, and we shall be on good terms again: though we
-can never be what we once were to each other.”
-
-“That is the most unforgiving speech,” said Elizabeth, “that I ever
-heard you utter. Good girl! It would vex me, indeed, to see you again
-the dupe of Miss Bingley’s pretended regard.”
-
-“Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to town last November he
-really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of _my_ being indifferent
-would have prevented his coming down again?”
-
-“He made a little mistake, to be sure; but it is to the credit of his
-modesty.”
-
-This naturally introduced a panegyric from Jane on his diffidence, and
-the little value he put on his own good qualities.
-
-Elizabeth was pleased to find that he had not betrayed the interference
-of his friend; for, though Jane had the most generous and forgiving
-heart in the world, she knew it was a circumstance which must prejudice
-her against him.
-
-“I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!” cried
-Jane. “Oh, Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family, and blessed
-above them all? If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such
-another man for you!”
-
-“If you were to give me forty such men I never could be so happy as you.
-Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your
-happiness. No, no, let me shift for myself; and, perhaps, if I have very
-good luck, I may meet with another Mr. Collins in time.”
-
-The situation of affairs in the Longbourn family could not be long a
-secret. Mrs. Bennet was privileged to whisper it to Mrs. Philips, and
-she ventured, without any permission, to do the same by all her
-neighbours in Meryton.
-
-The Bennets were speedily pronounced to be the luckiest family in the
-world; though only a few weeks before, when Lydia had first run away,
-they had been generally proved to be marked out for misfortune.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER LVI.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-One morning, about a week after Bingley’s engagement with Jane had been
-formed, as he and the females of the family were sitting together in the
-dining-room, their attention was suddenly drawn to the window by the
-sound of a carriage; and they perceived a chaise and four driving up the
-lawn. It was too early in the morning for visitors; and besides, the
-equipage did not answer to that of any of their neighbours. The horses
-were post; and neither the carriage, nor the livery of the servant who
-preceded it, were familiar to them. As it was certain, however, that
-somebody was coming, Bingley instantly prevailed on Miss Bennet to avoid
-the confinement of such an intrusion, and walk away with him into the
-shrubbery. They both set off; and the conjectures of the remaining three
-continued, though with little satisfaction, till the door was thrown
-open, and their visitor entered. It was Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
-
-They were of course all intending to be surprised: but their
-astonishment was beyond their expectation; and on the part of Mrs.
-Bennet and Kitty, though she was perfectly unknown to them, even
-inferior to what Elizabeth felt.
-
-She entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious, made no
-other reply to Elizabeth’s salutation than a slight inclination of the
-head, and sat down without saying a word. Elizabeth had mentioned her
-name to her mother on her Ladyship’s entrance, though no request of
-introduction had been made.
-
-Mrs. Bennet, all amazement, though flattered by having a guest of such
-high importance, received her with the utmost politeness. After sitting
-for a moment in silence, she said, very stiffly, to Elizabeth,--
-
-“I hope you are well, Miss Bennet. That lady, I suppose, is your
-mother?”
-
-Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was.
-
-“And _that_, I suppose, is one of your sisters?”
-
-“Yes, madam,” said Mrs. Bennet, delighted to speak to a Lady Catherine.
-“She is my youngest girl but one. My youngest of all is lately married,
-and my eldest is somewhere about the ground, walking with a young man,
-who, I believe, will soon become a part of the family.”
-
-“You have a very small park here,” returned Lady Catherine, after a
-short silence.
-
-“It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my Lady, I dare say; but, I
-assure you, it is much larger than Sir William Lucas’s.”
-
-“This must be a most inconvenient sitting-room for the evening in
-summer: the windows are full west.”
-
-Mrs. Bennet assured her that they never sat there after dinner; and then
-added,--
-
-“May I take the liberty of asking your Ladyship whether you left Mr. and
-Mrs. Collins well?”
-
-“Yes, very well. I saw them the night before last.”
-
-Elizabeth now expected that she would produce a letter for her from
-Charlotte, as it seemed the only probable motive for her calling. But no
-letter appeared, and she was completely puzzled.
-
-Mrs. Bennet, with great civility, begged her Ladyship to take some
-refreshment: but Lady Catherine very resolutely, and not very politely,
-declined eating anything; and then, rising up, said to Elizabeth,--
-
-“Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little wilderness
-on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you
-will favour me with your company.”
-
-“Go, my dear,” cried her mother, “and show her Ladyship about the
-different walks. I think she will be pleased with the hermitage.”
-
-Elizabeth obeyed; and, running into her own room for her parasol,
-attended her noble guest downstairs. As they passed through the hall,
-Lady Catherine opened the doors into the dining-parlour and
-drawing-room, and pronouncing them, after a short survey, to be
-decent-looking rooms, walked on.
-
-Her carriage remained at the door, and Elizabeth saw that her
-waiting-woman was in it. They proceeded in silence along the gravel walk
-that led to the copse; Elizabeth was determined to make no effort for
-conversation with a woman who was now more than usually insolent and
-disagreeable.
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“After a short survey”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-“How could I ever think her like her nephew?” said she, as she looked in
-her face.
-
-As soon as they entered the copse, Lady Catherine began in the following
-manner:--
-
-“You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my
-journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I
-come.”
-
-Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment.
-
-“Indeed, you are mistaken, madam; I have not been at all able to account
-for the honour of seeing you here.”
-
-“Miss Bennet,” replied her Ladyship, in an angry tone, “you ought to
-know that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere _you_ may
-choose to be, you shall not find _me_ so. My character has ever been
-celebrated for its sincerity and frankness; and in a cause of such
-moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most
-alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told, that not only your
-sister was on the point of being most advantageously married, but that
-_you_--that Miss Elizabeth Bennet would, in all likelihood, be soon
-afterwards united to my nephew--my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I
-_know_ it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him
-so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on
-setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to
-you.”
-
-“If you believed it impossible to be true,” said Elizabeth, colouring
-with astonishment and disdain, “I wonder you took the trouble of coming
-so far. What could your Ladyship propose by it?”
-
-“At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted.”
-
-“Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family,” said Elizabeth
-coolly, “will be rather a confirmation of it--if, indeed, such a report
-is in existence.”
-
-“If! do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been
-industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a
-report is spread abroad?”
-
-“I never heard that it was.”
-
-“And can you likewise declare, that there is no _foundation_ for it?”
-
-“I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your Ladyship. _You_
-may ask questions which _I_ shall not choose to answer.”
-
-“This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Has
-he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?”
-
-“Your Ladyship has declared it to be impossible.”
-
-“It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his
-reason. But _your_ arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation,
-have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You
-may have drawn him in.”
-
-“If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.”
-
-“Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such
-language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world,
-and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.”
-
-“But you are not entitled to know _mine_; nor will such behaviour as
-this ever induce me to be explicit.”
-
-“Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the
-presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is
-engaged to _my daughter_. Now, what have you to say?”
-
-“Only this,--that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will
-make an offer to me.”
-
-Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then replied,--
-
-“The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy,
-they have been intended for each other. It was the favourite wish of
-_his_ mother, as well as of hers. While in their cradles we planned the
-union; and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be
-accomplished, is their marriage to be prevented by a young woman of
-inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to
-the family? Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends--to his
-tacit engagement with Miss de Bourgh? Are you lost to every feeling of
-propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say, that from his
-earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?”
-
-“Yes; and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no
-other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be
-kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry
-Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the
-marriage. Its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by
-honour nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make
-another choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?”
-
-“Because honour, decorum, prudence--nay, interest--forbid it. Yes, Miss
-Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by his family or
-friends, if you wilfully act against the inclinations of all. You will
-be censured, slighted, and despised, by everyone connected with him.
-Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned
-by any of us.”
-
-“These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Elizabeth. “But the wife of Mr.
-Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily
-attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause
-to repine.”
-
-“Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude
-for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that
-score? Let us sit down. You are to understand, Miss Bennet, that I came
-here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I
-be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person’s
-whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.”
-
-“_That_ will make your Ladyship’s situation at present more pitiable;
-but it will have no effect on _me_.”
-
-“I will not be interrupted! Hear me in silence. My daughter and my
-nephew are formed for each other. They are descended, on the maternal
-side, from the same noble line; and, on the father’s, from respectable,
-honourable, and ancient, though untitled, families. Their fortune on
-both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other by the voice of
-every member of their respective houses; and what is to divide
-them?--the upstart pretensions of a young woman without family,
-connections, or fortune! Is this to be endured? But it must not, shall
-not be! If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to
-quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.”
-
-“In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that
-sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman’s daughter; so far we are
-equal.”
-
-“True. You _are_ a gentleman’s daughter. But what was your mother? Who
-are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their
-condition.”
-
-“Whatever my connections may be,” said Elizabeth, “if your nephew does
-not object to them, they can be nothing to _you_.”
-
-“Tell me, once for all, are you engaged to him?”
-
-Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere purpose of obliging Lady
-Catherine, have answered this question, she could not but say, after a
-moment’s deliberation,--
-
-“I am not.”
-
-Lady Catherine seemed pleased.
-
-“And will you promise me never to enter into such an engagement?”
-
-“I will make no promise of the kind.”
-
-“Miss Bennet, I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more
-reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I
-will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given me the
-assurance I require.”
-
-“And I certainly _never_ shall give it. I am not to be intimidated into
-anything so wholly unreasonable. Your Ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to marry
-your daughter; but would my giving you the wished-for promise make
-_their_ marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be attached to
-me, would _my_ refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on
-his cousin? Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with
-which you have supported this extraordinary application have been as
-frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my
-character, if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these.
-How far your nephew might approve of your interference in _his_ affairs,
-I cannot tell; but you have certainly no right to concern yourself in
-mine. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no further on the
-subject.”
-
-“Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done. To all the
-objections I have already urged I have still another to add. I am no
-stranger to the particulars of your youngest sister’s infamous
-elopement. I know it all; that the young man’s marrying her was a
-patched-up business, at the expense of your father and uncle. And is
-_such_ a girl to be my nephew’s sister? Is _her_ husband, who is the son
-of his late father’s steward, to be his brother? Heaven and earth!--of
-what are you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?”
-
-“You can _now_ have nothing further to say,” she resentfully answered.
-“You have insulted me, in every possible method. I must beg to return to
-the house.”
-
-And she rose as she spoke. Lady Catherine rose also, and they turned
-back. Her Ladyship was highly incensed.
-
-“You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my nephew!
-Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that a connection with you
-must disgrace him in the eyes of everybody?”
-
-“Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say. You know my sentiments.”
-
-“You are then resolved to have him?”
-
-“I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that manner,
-which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without
-reference to _you_, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.”
-
-“It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to obey the
-claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin him in
-the opinion of all his friends, and make him the contempt of the world.”
-
-“Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude,” replied Elizabeth, “has any
-possible claim on me, in the present instance. No principle of either
-would be violated by my marriage with Mr. Darcy. And with regard to the
-resentment of his family, or the indignation of the world, if the former
-_were_ excited by his marrying me, it would not give me one moment’s
-concern--and the world in general would have too much sense to join in
-the scorn.”
-
-“And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well. I
-shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss Bennet, that your
-ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped to find you
-reasonable; but depend upon it I will carry my point.”
-
-In this manner Lady Catherine talked on till they were at the door of
-the carriage, when, turning hastily round, she added,--
-
-“I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet. I send no compliments to your
-mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.”
-
-Elizabeth made no answer; and without attempting to persuade her
-Ladyship to return into the house, walked quietly into it herself. She
-heard the carriage drive away as she proceeded upstairs. Her mother
-impatiently met her at the door of her dressing-room, to ask why Lady
-Catherine would not come in again and rest herself.
-
-“She did not choose it,” said her daughter; “she would go.”
-
-“She is a very fine-looking woman! and her calling here was prodigiously
-civil! for she only came, I suppose, to tell us the Collinses were well.
-She is on her road somewhere, I dare say; and so, passing through
-Meryton, thought she might as well call on you. I suppose she had
-nothing particular to say to you, Lizzy?”
-
-Elizabeth was forced to give in to a little falsehood here; for to
-acknowledge the substance of their conversation was impossible.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “But now it comes out”
-]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER LVII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The discomposure of spirits which this extraordinary visit threw
-Elizabeth into could not be easily overcome; nor could she for many
-hours learn to think of it less than incessantly. Lady Catherine, it
-appeared, had actually taken the trouble of this journey from Rosings
-for the sole purpose of breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr.
-Darcy. It was a rational scheme, to be sure! but from what the report of
-their engagement could originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to imagine;
-till she recollected that _his_ being the intimate friend of Bingley,
-and _her_ being the sister of Jane, was enough, at a time when the
-expectation of one wedding made everybody eager for another, to supply
-the idea. She had not herself forgotten to feel that the marriage of her
-sister must bring them more frequently together. And her neighbours at
-Lucas Lodge, therefore, (for through their communication with the
-Collinses, the report, she concluded, had reached Lady Catherine,) had
-only set _that_ down as almost certain and immediate which _she_ had
-looked forward to as possible at some future time.
-
-In revolving Lady Catherine’s expressions, however, she could not help
-feeling some uneasiness as to the possible consequence of her persisting
-in this interference. From what she had said of her resolution to
-prevent the marriage, it occurred to Elizabeth that she must meditate an
-application to her nephew; and how he might take a similar
-representation of the evils attached to a connection with her she dared
-not pronounce. She knew not the exact degree of his affection for his
-aunt, or his dependence on her judgment, but it was natural to suppose
-that he thought much higher of her Ladyship than _she_ could do; and it
-was certain, that in enumerating the miseries of a marriage with _one_
-whose immediate connections were so unequal to his own, his aunt would
-address him on his weakest side. With his notions of dignity, he would
-probably feel that the arguments, which to Elizabeth had appeared weak
-and ridiculous, contained much good sense and solid reasoning.
-
-If he had been wavering before, as to what he should do, which had often
-seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so near a relation might
-settle every doubt, and determine him at once to be as happy as dignity
-unblemished could make him. In that case he would return no more. Lady
-Catherine might see him in her way through town; and his engagement to
-Bingley of coming again to Netherfield must give way.
-
-“If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his promise should come to his
-friend within a few days,” she added, “I shall know how to understand
-it. I shall then give over every expectation, every wish of his
-constancy. If he is satisfied with only regretting me, when he might
-have obtained my affections and hand, I shall soon cease to regret him
-at all.”
-
-The surprise of the rest of the family, on hearing who their visitor had
-been, was very great: but they obligingly satisfied it with the same
-kind of supposition which had appeased Mrs. Bennet’s curiosity; and
-Elizabeth was spared from much teasing on the subject.
-
-The next morning, as she was going down stairs, she was met by her
-father, who came out of his library with a letter in his hand.
-
-“Lizzy,” said he, “I was going to look for you: come into my room.”
-
-She followed him thither; and her curiosity to know what he had to tell
-her was heightened by the supposition of its being in some manner
-connected with the letter he held. It suddenly struck her that it might
-be from Lady Catherine, and she anticipated with dismay all the
-consequent explanations.
-
-She followed her father to the fireplace, and they both sat down. He
-then said,--
-
-“I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me
-exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought to know its
-contents. I did not know before that I had _two_ daughters on the brink
-of matrimony. Let me congratulate you on a very important conquest.”
-
-The colour now rushed into Elizabeth’s cheeks in the instantaneous
-conviction of its being a letter from the nephew, instead of the aunt;
-and she was undetermined whether most to be pleased that he explained
-himself at all, or offended that his letter was not rather addressed to
-herself, when her father continued,--
-
-“You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration in such matters
-as these; but I think I may defy even _your_ sagacity to discover the
-name of your admirer. This letter is from Mr. Collins.”
-
-“From Mr. Collins! and what can _he_ have to say?”
-
-“Something very much to the purpose, of course. He begins with
-congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter, of
-which, it seems, he has been told by some of the good-natured, gossiping
-Lucases. I shall not sport with your impatience by reading what he says
-on that point. What relates to yourself is as follows:--‘Having thus
-offered you the sincere congratulations of Mrs. Collins and myself on
-this happy event, let me now add a short hint on the subject of another,
-of which we have been advertised by the same authority. Your daughter
-Elizabeth, it is presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after
-her eldest sister has resigned it; and the chosen partner of her fate
-may be reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages
-in this land.’ Can you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant by this?
-‘This young gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar way, with everything the
-heart of mortal can most desire,--splendid property, noble kindred, and
-extensive patronage. Yet, in spite of all these temptations, let me warn
-my cousin Elizabeth, and yourself, of what evils you may incur by a
-precipitate closure with this gentleman’s proposals, which, of course,
-you will be inclined to take immediate advantage of.’ Have you any idea,
-Lizzy, who this gentleman is? But now it comes out. ‘My motive for
-cautioning you is as follows:--We have reason to imagine that his aunt,
-Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look on the match with a friendly
-eye.’ _Mr. Darcy_, you see, is the man! Now, Lizzy, I think I _have_
-surprised you. Could he, or the Lucases, have pitched on any man, within
-the circle of our acquaintance, whose name would have given the lie more
-effectually to what they related? Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any
-woman but to see a blemish, and who probably never looked at _you_ in
-his life! It is admirable!”
-
-Elizabeth tried to join in her father’s pleasantry, but could only force
-one most reluctant smile. Never had his wit been directed in a manner so
-little agreeable to her.
-
-“Are you not diverted?”
-
-“Oh, yes. Pray read on.”
-
-“‘After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her Ladyship last
-night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she
-felt on the occasion; when it became apparent, that, on the score of
-some family objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give
-her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. I thought it my
-duty to give the speediest intelligence of this to my cousin, that she
-and her noble admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run
-hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned.’ Mr.
-Collins, moreover, adds, ‘I am truly rejoiced that my cousin Lydia’s sad
-business has been so well hushed up, and am only concerned that their
-living together before the marriage took place should be so generally
-known. I must not, however, neglect the duties of my station, or refrain
-from declaring my amazement, at hearing that you received the young
-couple into your house as soon as they were married. It was an
-encouragement of vice; and had I been the rector of Longbourn, I should
-very strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them as
-a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their
-names to be mentioned in your hearing.’ _That_ is his notion of
-Christian forgiveness! The rest of his letter is only about his dear
-Charlotte’s situation, and his expectation of a young olive-branch. But,
-Lizzy, you look as if you did not enjoy it. You are not going to be
-_missish_, I hope, and pretend to be affronted at an idle report. For
-what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them
-in our turn?”
-
-“Oh,” cried Elizabeth, “I am exceedingly diverted. But it is so
-strange!”
-
-“Yes, _that_ is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed on any other man
-it would have been nothing; but _his_ perfect indifference and _your_
-pointed dislike make it so delightfully absurd! Much as I abominate
-writing, I would not give up Mr. Collins’s correspondence for any
-consideration. Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot help giving
-him the preference even over Wickham, much as I value the impudence and
-hypocrisy of my son-in-law. And pray, Lizzy, what said Lady Catherine
-about this report? Did she call to refuse her consent?”
-
-To this question his daughter replied only with a laugh; and as it had
-been asked without the least suspicion, she was not distressed by his
-repeating it. Elizabeth had never been more at a loss to make her
-feelings appear what they were not. It was necessary to laugh when she
-would rather have cried. Her father had most cruelly mortified her by
-what he said of Mr. Darcy’s indifference; and she could do nothing but
-wonder at such a want of penetration, or fear that, perhaps, instead of
-his seeing too _little_, she might have fancied too _much_.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“The efforts of his aunt”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER LVIII.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse from his friend, as
-Elizabeth half expected Mr. Bingley to do, he was able to bring Darcy
-with him to Longbourn before many days had passed after Lady Catherine’s
-visit. The gentlemen arrived early; and, before Mrs. Bennet had time to
-tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in
-momentary dread, Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed
-their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in the
-habit of walking, Mary could never spare time, but the remaining five
-set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others to
-outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy
-were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either; Kitty was
-too much afraid of him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly forming a
-desperate resolution; and, perhaps, he might be doing the same.
-
-They walked towards the Lucases’, because Kitty wished to call upon
-Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a general concern,
-when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the
-moment for her resolution to be executed; and while her courage was
-high, she immediately said,--
-
-“Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, and for the sake of giving
-relief to my own feelings care not how much I may be wounding yours. I
-can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor
-sister. Ever since I have known it I have been most anxious to
-acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest
-of my family I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”
-
-“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise
-and emotion, “that you have ever been informed of what may, in a
-mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner
-was so little to be trusted.”
-
-“You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness first betrayed to
-me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could
-not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again,
-in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced
-you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the
-sake of discovering them.”
-
-“If you _will_ thank me,” he replied, “let it be for yourself alone.
-That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other
-inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your
-_family_ owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought
-only of _you_.”
-
-Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause,
-her companion added, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your
-feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. _My_
-affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence
-me on this subject for ever.”
-
-Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of
-his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not
-very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone
-so material a change since the period to which he alluded, as to make
-her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The
-happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never
-felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as
-warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth
-been able to encounter his eyes, she might have seen how well the
-expression of heartfelt delight diffused over his face became him: but
-though she could not look she could listen; and he told her of feelings
-which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection
-every moment more valuable.
-
-They walked on without knowing in what direction. There was too much to
-be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. She
-soon learnt that they were indebted for their present good understanding
-to the efforts of his aunt, who _did_ call on him in her return through
-London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the
-substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on
-every expression of the latter, which, in her Ladyship’s apprehension,
-peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance, in the belief that
-such a relation must assist her endeavours to obtain that promise from
-her nephew which _she_ had refused to give. But, unluckily for her
-Ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise.
-
-“It taught me to hope,” said he, “as I had scarcely ever allowed myself
-to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain, that
-had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have
-acknowledged it to Lady Catherine frankly and openly.”
-
-Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, “Yes, you know enough of
-my _frankness_ to believe me capable of _that_. After abusing you so
-abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all
-your relations.”
-
-“What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For though your
-accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour
-to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was
-unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”
-
-“We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that
-evening,” said Elizabeth. “The conduct of neither, if strictly
-examined, will be irreproachable; but since then we have both, I hope,
-improved in civility.”
-
-“I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I
-then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of
-it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your
-reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘Had you behaved in a
-more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can
-scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me; though it was some time, I
-confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice.”
-
-“I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an
-impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such
-a way.”
-
-“I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper
-feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never
-forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible
-way that would induce you to accept me.”
-
-“Oh, do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at
-all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it.”
-
-Darcy mentioned his letter. “Did it,” said he,--“did it _soon_ make you
-think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its
-contents?”
-
-She explained what its effects on her had been, and how gradually all
-her former prejudices had been removed.
-
-“I knew,” said he, “that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was
-necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part,
-especially the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power
-of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly
-make you hate me.”
-
-“The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it essential to the
-preservation of my regard; but, though we have both reason to think my
-opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily
-changed as that implies.”
-
-“When I wrote that letter,” replied Darcy, “I believed myself perfectly
-calm and cool; but I am since convinced that it was written in a
-dreadful bitterness of spirit.”
-
-“The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The
-adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings
-of the person who wrote and the person who received it are now so widely
-different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance
-attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my
-philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you
-pleasure.”
-
-“I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. _Your_
-retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment
-arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of
-ignorance. But with _me_, it is not so. Painful recollections will
-intrude, which cannot, which ought not to be repelled. I have been a
-selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a
-child I was taught what was _right_, but I was not taught to correct my
-temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride
-and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only _child_),
-I was spoiled by my parents, who, though good themselves, (my father
-particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable,) allowed, encouraged,
-almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond
-my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to
-_wish_ at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with
-my own. Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might
-still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not
-owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most
-advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a
-doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my
-pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”
-
-“Had you then persuaded yourself that I should?”
-
-“Indeed I had. What will you think of my vanity? I believed you to be
-wishing, expecting my addresses.”
-
-“My manners must have been in fault, but not intentionally, I assure
-you. I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits might often lead me
-wrong. How you must have hated me after _that_ evening!”
-
-“Hate you! I was angry, perhaps, at first, but my anger soon began to
-take a proper direction.”
-
-“I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me when we met at
-Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?”
-
-“No, indeed, I felt nothing but surprise.”
-
-“Your surprise could not be greater than _mine_ in being noticed by you.
-My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I
-confess that I did not expect to receive _more_ than my due.”
-
-“My object _then_,” replied Darcy, “was to show you, by every civility
-in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped
-to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you
-see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes
-introduced themselves, I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half
-an hour after I had seen you.”
-
-He then told her of Georgiana’s delight in her acquaintance, and of her
-disappointment at its sudden interruption; which naturally leading to
-the cause of that interruption, she soon learnt that his resolution of
-following her from Derbyshire in quest of her sister had been formed
-before he quitted the inn, and that his gravity and thoughtfulness there
-had arisen from no other struggles than what such a purpose must
-comprehend.
-
-She expressed her gratitude again, but it was too painful a subject to
-each to be dwelt on farther.
-
-After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy to know
-anything about it, they found at last, on examining their watches, that
-it was time to be at home.
-
-“What could have become of Mr. Bingley and Jane?” was a wonder which
-introduced the discussion of _their_ affairs. Darcy was delighted with
-their engagement; his friend had given him the earliest information of
-it.
-
-“I must ask whether you were surprised?” said Elizabeth.
-
-“Not at all. When I went away, I felt that it would soon happen.”
-
-“That is to say, you had given your permission. I guessed as much.” And
-though he exclaimed at the term, she found that it had been pretty much
-the case.
-
-“On the evening before my going to London,” said he, “I made a
-confession to him, which I believe I ought to have made long ago. I told
-him of all that had occurred to make my former interference in his
-affairs absurd and impertinent. His surprise was great. He had never had
-the slightest suspicion. I told him, moreover, that I believed myself
-mistaken in supposing, as I had done, that your sister was indifferent
-to him; and as I could easily perceive that his attachment to her was
-unabated, I felt no doubt of their happiness together.”
-
-Elizabeth could not help smiling at his easy manner of directing his
-friend.
-
-“Did you speak from your own observation,” said she, “when you told him
-that my sister loved him, or merely from my information last spring?”
-
-“From the former. I had narrowly observed her, during the two visits
-which I had lately made her here; and I was convinced of her affection.”
-
-“And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried immediate conviction to
-him.”
-
-“It did. Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. His diffidence had
-prevented his depending on his own judgment in so anxious a case, but
-his reliance on mine made everything easy. I was obliged to confess one
-thing, which for a time, and not unjustly, offended him. I could not
-allow myself to conceal that your sister had been in town three months
-last winter, that I had known it, and purposely kept it from him. He was
-angry. But his anger, I am persuaded, lasted no longer than he remained
-in any doubt of your sister’s sentiments. He has heartily forgiven me
-now.”
-
-Elizabeth longed to observe that Mr. Bingley had been a most delightful
-friend; so easily guided that his worth was invaluable; but she checked
-herself. She remembered that he had yet to learn to be laughed at, and
-it was rather too early to begin. In anticipating the happiness of
-Bingley, which of course was to be inferior only to his own, he
-continued the conversation till they reached the house. In the hall they
-parted.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
- “Unable to utter a syllable”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER LIX.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-“My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to?” was a question
-which Elizabeth received from Jane as soon as she entered the room, and
-from all the others when they sat down to table. She had only to say in
-reply, that they had wandered about till she was beyond her own
-knowledge. She coloured as she spoke; but neither that, nor anything
-else, awakened a suspicion of the truth.
-
-The evening passed quietly, unmarked by anything extraordinary. The
-acknowledged lovers talked and laughed; the unacknowledged were silent.
-Darcy was not of a disposition in which happiness overflows in mirth;
-and Elizabeth, agitated and confused, rather _knew_ that she was happy
-than _felt_ herself to be so; for, besides the immediate embarrassment,
-there were other evils before her. She anticipated what would be felt in
-the family when her situation became known: she was aware that no one
-liked him but Jane; and even feared that with the others it was a
-_dislike_ which not all his fortune and consequence might do away.
-
-At night she opened her heart to Jane. Though suspicion was very far
-from Miss Bennet’s general habits, she was absolutely incredulous here.
-
-“You are joking, Lizzy. This cannot be! Engaged to Mr. Darcy! No, no,
-you shall not deceive me: I know it to be impossible.”
-
-“This is a wretched beginning, indeed! My sole dependence was on you;
-and I am sure nobody else will believe me, if you do not. Yet, indeed, I
-am in earnest. I speak nothing but the truth. He still loves me, and we
-are engaged.”
-
-Jane looked at her doubtingly. “Oh, Lizzy! it cannot be. I know how much
-you dislike him.”
-
-“You know nothing of the matter. _That_ is all to be forgot. Perhaps I
-did not always love him so well as I do now; but in such cases as these
-a good memory is unpardonable. This is the last time I shall ever
-remember it myself.”
-
-Miss Bennet still looked all amazement. Elizabeth again, and more
-seriously, assured her of its truth.
-
-“Good heaven! can it be really so? Yet now I must believe you,” cried
-Jane. “My dear, dear Lizzy, I would, I do congratulate you; but are you
-certain--forgive the question--are you quite certain that you can be
-happy with him?”
-
-“There can be no doubt of that. It is settled between us already that we
-are to be the happiest couple in the world. But are you pleased, Jane?
-Shall you like to have such a brother?”
-
-“Very, very much. Nothing could give either Bingley or myself more
-delight. But we considered it, we talked of it as impossible. And do you
-really love him quite well enough? Oh, Lizzy! do anything rather than
-marry without affection. Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought
-to do?”
-
-“Oh, yes! You will only think I feel _more_ than I ought to do when I
-tell you all.”
-
-“What do you mean?”
-
-“Why, I must confess that I love him better than I do Bingley. I am
-afraid you will be angry.”
-
-“My dearest sister, now be, _be_ serious. I want to talk very seriously.
-Let me know everything that I am to know without delay. Will you tell me
-how long you have loved him?”
-
-“It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began;
-but I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds
-at Pemberley.”
-
-Another entreaty that she would be serious, however, produced the
-desired effect; and she soon satisfied Jane by her solemn assurances of
-attachment. When convinced on that article, Miss Bennet had nothing
-further to wish.
-
-“Now I am quite happy,” said she, “for you will be as happy as myself. I
-always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but his love of you, I
-must always have esteemed him; but now, as Bingley’s friend and your
-husband, there can be only Bingley and yourself more dear to me. But,
-Lizzy, you have been very sly, very reserved with me. How little did you
-tell me of what passed at Pemberley and Lambton! I owe all that I know
-of it to another, not to you.”
-
-Elizabeth told her the motives of her secrecy. She had been unwilling to
-mention Bingley; and the unsettled state of her own feelings had made
-her equally avoid the name of his friend: but now she would no longer
-conceal from her his share in Lydia’s marriage. All was acknowledged,
-and half the night spent in conversation.
-
-“Good gracious!” cried Mrs. Bennet, as she stood at a window the next
-morning, “if that disagreeable Mr. Darcy is not coming here again with
-our dear Bingley! What can he mean by being so tiresome as to be always
-coming here? I had no notion but he would go a-shooting, or something or
-other, and not disturb us with his company. What shall we do with him?
-Lizzy, you must walk out with him again, that he may not be in Bingley’s
-way.”
-
-Elizabeth could hardly help laughing at so convenient a proposal; yet
-was really vexed that her mother should be always giving him such an
-epithet.
-
-As soon as they entered, Bingley looked at her so expressively, and
-shook hands with such warmth, as left no doubt of his good information;
-and he soon afterwards said aloud, “Mrs. Bennet, have you no more lanes
-hereabouts in which Lizzy may lose her way again to-day?”
-
-“I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty,” said Mrs. Bennet, “to walk
-to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk, and Mr. Darcy has
-never seen the view.”
-
-“It may do very well for the others,” replied Mr. Bingley; “but I am
-sure it will be too much for Kitty. Won’t it, Kitty?”
-
-Kitty owned that she had rather stay at home. Darcy professed a great
-curiosity to see the view from the Mount, and Elizabeth silently
-consented. As she went upstairs to get ready, Mrs. Bennet followed her,
-saying,--
-
-“I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have that
-disagreeable man all to yourself; but I hope you will not mind it. It is
-all for Jane’s sake, you know; and there is no occasion for talking to
-him except just now and then; so do not put yourself to inconvenience.”
-
-During their walk, it was resolved that Mr. Bennet’s consent should be
-asked in the course of the evening: Elizabeth reserved to herself the
-application for her mother’s. She could not determine how her mother
-would take it; sometimes doubting whether all his wealth and grandeur
-would be enough to overcome her abhorrence of the man; but whether she
-were violently set against the match, or violently delighted with it, it
-was certain that her manner would be equally ill adapted to do credit to
-her sense; and she could no more bear that Mr. Darcy should hear the
-first raptures of her joy, than the first vehemence of her
-disapprobation.
-
-In the evening, soon after Mr. Bennet withdrew to the library, she saw
-Mr. Darcy rise also and follow him, and her agitation on seeing it was
-extreme. She did not fear her father’s opposition, but he was going to
-be made unhappy, and that it should be through her means; that _she_,
-his favourite child, should be distressing him by her choice, should be
-filling him with fears and regrets in disposing of her, was a wretched
-reflection, and she sat in misery till Mr. Darcy appeared again, when,
-looking at him, she was a little relieved by his smile. In a few minutes
-he approached the table where she was sitting with Kitty; and, while
-pretending to admire her work, said in a whisper, “Go to your father; he
-wants you in the library.” She was gone directly.
-
-Her father was walking about the room, looking grave and anxious.
-“Lizzy,” said he, “what are you doing? Are you out of your senses to be
-accepting this man? Have not you always hated him?”
-
-How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had been more
-reasonable, her expressions more moderate! It would have spared her from
-explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give;
-but they were now necessary, and she assured him, with some confusion,
-of her attachment to Mr. Darcy.
-
-“Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be
-sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine carriages than Jane.
-But will they make you happy?”
-
-“Have you any other objection,” said Elizabeth, “than your belief of my
-indifference?”
-
-“None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but
-this would be nothing if you really liked him.”
-
-“I do, I do like him,” she replied, with tears in her eyes; “I love him.
-Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not
-know what he really is; then pray do not pain me by speaking of him in
-such terms.”
-
-“Lizzy,” said her father, “I have given him my consent. He is the kind
-of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything, which he
-condescended to ask. I now give it to _you_, if you are resolved on
-having him. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your
-disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor
-respectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband, unless you looked
-up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the
-greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape
-discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing
-_you_ unable to respect your partner in life. You know not what you are
-about.”
-
-Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in her reply;
-and, at length, by repeated assurances that Mr. Darcy was really the
-object of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her
-estimation of him had undergone, relating her absolute certainty that
-his affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many
-months’ suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities,
-she did conquer her father’s incredulity, and reconcile him to the
-match.
-
-“Well, my dear,” said he, when she ceased speaking, “I have no more to
-say. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could not have parted with
-you, my Lizzy, to anyone less worthy.”
-
-To complete the favourable impression, she then told him what Mr. Darcy
-had voluntarily done for Lydia. He heard her with astonishment.
-
-“This is an evening of wonders, indeed! And so, Darcy did everything;
-made up the match, gave the money, paid the fellow’s debts, and got him
-his commission! So much the better. It will save me a world of trouble
-and economy. Had it been your uncle’s doing, I must and _would_ have
-paid him; but these violent young lovers carry everything their own
-way. I shall offer to pay him to-morrow, he will rant and storm about
-his love for you, and there will be an end of the matter.”
-
-He then recollected her embarrassment a few days before on his reading
-Mr. Collins’s letter; and after laughing at her some time, allowed her
-at last to go, saying, as she quitted the room, “If any young men come
-for Mary or Kitty, send them in, for I am quite at leisure.”
-
-Elizabeth’s mind was now relieved from a very heavy weight; and, after
-half an hour’s quiet reflection in her own room, she was able to join
-the others with tolerable composure. Everything was too recent for
-gaiety, but the evening passed tranquilly away; there was no longer
-anything material to be dreaded, and the comfort of ease and familiarity
-would come in time.
-
-When her mother went up to her dressing-room at night, she followed her,
-and made the important communication. Its effect was most extraordinary;
-for, on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennet sat quite still, and unable to
-utter a syllable. Nor was it under many, many minutes, that she could
-comprehend what she heard, though not in general backward to credit what
-was for the advantage of her family, or that came in the shape of a
-lover to any of them. She began at length to recover, to fidget about in
-her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder, and bless herself.
-
-“Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would
-have thought it? And is it really true? Oh, my sweetest Lizzy! how rich
-and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages
-you will have! Jane’s is nothing to it--nothing at all. I am so
-pleased--so happy. Such a charming man! so handsome! so tall! Oh, my
-dear Lizzy! pray apologize for my having disliked him so much before. I
-hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Everything
-that is charming! Three daughters married! Ten thousand a year! Oh,
-Lord! what will become of me? I shall go distracted.”
-
-This was enough to prove that her approbation need not be doubted; and
-Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusion was heard only by herself,
-soon went away. But before she had been three minutes in her own room,
-her mother followed her.
-
-“My dearest child,” she cried, “I can think of nothing else. Ten
-thousand a year, and very likely more! ’Tis as good as a lord! And a
-special licence--you must and shall be married by a special licence.
-But, my dearest love, tell me what dish Mr. Darcy is particularly fond
-of, that I may have it to-morrow.”
-
-This was a sad omen of what her mother’s behaviour to the gentleman
-himself might be; and Elizabeth found that, though in the certain
-possession of his warmest affection, and secure of her relations’
-consent, there was still something to be wished for. But the morrow
-passed off much better than she expected; for Mrs. Bennet luckily stood
-in such awe of her intended son-in-law, that she ventured not to speak
-to him, unless it was in her power to offer him any attention, or mark
-her deference for his opinion.
-
-Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her father taking pains to get
-acquainted with him; and Mr. Bennet soon assured her that he was rising
-every hour in his esteem.
-
-“I admire all my three sons-in-law highly,” said he. “Wickham, perhaps,
-is my favourite; but I think I shall like _your_ husband quite as well
-as Jane’s.”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration:
-
-“The obsequious civility.”
-
-[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER LX.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Elizabeth’s spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she wanted Mr.
-Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. “How could
-you begin?” said she. “I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when
-you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first
-place?”
-
-“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which
-laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I
-knew that I _had_ begun.”
-
-“My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners--my behaviour
-to _you_ was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke
-to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now, be
-sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?”
-
-“For the liveliness of your mind I did.”
-
-“You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was very little less.
-The fact is, that you were sick of civility, of deference, of officious
-attention. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking,
-and looking, and thinking for _your_ approbation alone. I roused and
-interested you, because I was so unlike _them_. Had you not been really
-amiable you would have hated me for it: but in spite of the pains you
-took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always noble and just; and
-in your heart you thoroughly despised the persons who so assiduously
-courted you. There--I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it;
-and really, all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly
-reasonable. To be sure you know no actual good of me--but nobody thinks
-of _that_ when they fall in love.”
-
-“Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to Jane, while she was
-ill at Netherfield?”
-
-“Dearest Jane! who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it
-by all means. My good qualities are under your protection, and you are
-to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me
-to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may
-be; and I shall begin directly, by asking you what made you so unwilling
-to come to the point at last? What made you so shy of me, when you
-first called, and afterwards dined here? Why, especially, when you
-called, did you look as if you did not care about me?”
-
-“Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement.”
-
-“But I was embarrassed.”
-
-“And so was I.”
-
-“You might have talked to me more when you came to dinner.”
-
-“A man who had felt less might.”
-
-“How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer to give, and that
-I should be so reasonable as to admit it! But I wonder how long you
-_would_ have gone on, if you had been left to yourself. I wonder when
-you _would_ have spoken if I had not asked you! My resolution of
-thanking you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect. _Too
-much_, I am afraid; for what becomes of the moral, if our comfort
-springs from a breach of promise, for I ought not to have mentioned the
-subject? This will never do.”
-
-“You need not distress yourself. The moral will be perfectly fair. Lady
-Catherine’s unjustifiable endeavours to separate us were the means of
-removing all my doubts. I am not indebted for my present happiness to
-your eager desire of expressing your gratitude. I was not in a humour to
-wait for an opening of yours. My aunt’s intelligence had given me hope,
-and I was determined at once to know everything.”
-
-“Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to make her happy,
-for she loves to be of use. But tell me, what did you come down to
-Netherfield for? Was it merely to ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed?
-or had you intended any more serious consequences?”
-
-“My real purpose was to see _you_, and to judge, if I could, whether I
-might ever hope to make you love me. My avowed one, or what I avowed to
-myself, was to see whether your sister was still partial to Bingley, and
-if she were, to make the confession to him which I have since made.”
-
-“Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady Catherine what is to
-befall her?”
-
-“I am more likely to want time than courage, Elizabeth. But it ought to
-be done; and if you will give me a sheet of paper it shall be done
-directly.”
-
-“And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you, and
-admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady once did. But
-I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer neglected.”
-
-From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy with Mr. Darcy
-had been overrated, Elizabeth had never yet answered Mrs. Gardiner’s
-long letter; but now, having _that_ to communicate which she knew would
-be most welcome, she was almost ashamed to find that her uncle and aunt
-had already lost three days of happiness, and immediately wrote as
-follows:--
-
-“I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought to have done,
-for your long, kind, satisfactory detail of particulars; but, to say the
-truth, I was too cross to write. You supposed more than really existed.
-But _now_ suppose as much as you choose; give a loose to your fancy,
-indulge your imagination in every possible flight which the subject will
-afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot greatly
-err. You must write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more
-than you did in your last. I thank you again and again, for not going to
-the Lakes. How could I be so silly as to wish it! Your idea of the
-ponies is delightful. We will go round the park every day. I am the
-happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so
-before, but no one with such justice. I am happier even than Jane; she
-only smiles, I laugh. Mr. Darcy sends you all the love in the world that
-can be spared from me. You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas.
-Yours,” etc.
-
-Mr. Darcy’s letter to Lady Catherine was in a different style, and still
-different from either was what Mr. Bennet sent to Mr. Collins, in return
-for his last.
-
- /* “Dear Sir, */
-
- “I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth will
- soon be the wife of Mr. Darcy. Console Lady Catherine as well as
- you can. But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has
- more to give.
-
-“Yours sincerely,” etc.
-
-Miss Bingley’s congratulations to her brother on his approaching
-marriage were all that was affectionate and insincere. She wrote even to
-Jane on the occasion, to express her delight, and repeat all her former
-professions of regard. Jane was not deceived, but she was affected; and
-though feeling no reliance on her, could not help writing her a much
-kinder answer than she knew was deserved.
-
-The joy which Miss Darcy expressed on receiving similar information was
-as sincere as her brother’s in sending it. Four sides of paper were
-insufficient to contain all her delight, and all her earnest desire of
-being loved by her sister.
-
-Before any answer could arrive from Mr. Collins, or any congratulations
-to Elizabeth from his wife, the Longbourn family heard that the
-Collinses were come themselves to Lucas Lodge. The reason of this
-sudden removal was soon evident. Lady Catherine had been rendered so
-exceedingly angry by the contents of her nephew’s letter, that
-Charlotte, really rejoicing in the match, was anxious to get away till
-the storm was blown over. At such a moment, the arrival of her friend
-was a sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, though in the course of their
-meetings she must sometimes think the pleasure dearly bought, when she
-saw Mr. Darcy exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility of her
-husband. He bore it, however, with admirable calmness. He could even
-listen to Sir William Lucas, when he complimented him on carrying away
-the brightest jewel of the country, and expressed his hopes of their all
-meeting frequently at St. James’s, with very decent composure. If he did
-shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir William was out of sight.
-
-Mrs. Philips’s vulgarity was another, and, perhaps, a greater tax on his
-forbearance; and though Mrs. Philips, as well as her sister, stood in
-too much awe of him to speak with the familiarity which Bingley’s
-good-humour encouraged; yet, whenever she _did_ speak, she must be
-vulgar. Nor was her respect for him, though it made her more quiet, at
-all likely to make her more elegant. Elizabeth did all she could to
-shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to
-keep him to herself, and to those of her family with whom he might
-converse without mortification; and though the uncomfortable feelings
-arising from all this took from the season of courtship much of its
-pleasure, it added to the hope of the future; and she looked forward
-with delight to the time when they should be removed from society so
-little pleasing to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their
-family party at Pemberley.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER LXI.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs. Bennet got
-rid of her two most deserving daughters. With what delighted pride she
-afterwards visited Mrs. Bingley, and talked of Mrs. Darcy, may be
-guessed. I wish I could say, for the sake of her family, that the
-accomplishment of her earnest desire in the establishment of so many of
-her children produced so happy an effect as to make her a sensible,
-amiable, well-informed woman for the rest of her life; though, perhaps,
-it was lucky for her husband, who might not have relished domestic
-felicity in so unusual a form, that she still was occasionally nervous
-and invariably silly.
-
-Mr. Bennet missed his second daughter exceedingly; his affection for her
-drew him oftener from home than anything else could do. He delighted in
-going to Pemberley, especially when he was least expected.
-
-Mr. Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield only a twelvemonth. So near
-a vicinity to her mother and Meryton relations was not desirable even to
-_his_ easy temper, or _her_ affectionate heart. The darling wish of his
-sisters was then gratified: he bought an estate in a neighbouring county
-to Derbyshire; and Jane and Elizabeth, in addition to every other source
-of happiness, were within thirty miles of each other.
-
-Kitty, to her very material advantage, spent the chief of her time with
-her two elder sisters. In society so superior to what she had generally
-known, her improvement was great. She was not of so ungovernable a
-temper as Lydia; and, removed from the influence of Lydia’s example, she
-became, by proper attention and management, less irritable, less
-ignorant, and less insipid. From the further disadvantage of Lydia’s
-society she was of course carefully kept; and though Mrs. Wickham
-frequently invited her to come and stay with her, with the promise of
-balls and young men, her father would never consent to her going.
-
-Mary was the only daughter who remained at home; and she was necessarily
-drawn from the pursuit of accomplishments by Mrs. Bennet’s being quite
-unable to sit alone. Mary was obliged to mix more with the world, but
-she could still moralize over every morning visit; and as she was no
-longer mortified by comparisons between her sisters’ beauty and her own,
-it was suspected by her father that she submitted to the change without
-much reluctance.
-
-As for Wickham and Lydia, their characters suffered no revolution from
-the marriage of her sisters. He bore with philosophy the conviction that
-Elizabeth must now become acquainted with whatever of his ingratitude
-and falsehood had before been unknown to her; and, in spite of
-everything, was not wholly without hope that Darcy might yet be
-prevailed on to make his fortune. The congratulatory letter which
-Elizabeth received from Lydia on her marriage explained to her that, by
-his wife at least, if not by himself, such a hope was cherished. The
-letter was to this effect:--
-
- /* “My dear Lizzy, */
-
- “I wish you joy. If you love Mr. Darcy half so well as I do my dear
- Wickham, you must be very happy. It is a great comfort to have you
- so rich; and when you have nothing else to do, I hope you will
- think of us. I am sure Wickham would like a place at court very
- much; and I do not think we shall have quite money enough to live
- upon without some help. Any place would do of about three or four
- hundred a year; but, however, do not speak to Mr. Darcy about it,
- if you had rather not.
-
-“Yours,” etc.
-
-As it happened that Elizabeth had much rather not, she endeavoured in
-her answer to put an end to every entreaty and expectation of the kind.
-Such relief, however, as it was in her power to afford, by the practice
-of what might be called economy in her own private expenses, she
-frequently sent them. It had always been evident to her that such an
-income as theirs, under the direction of two persons so extravagant in
-their wants, and heedless of the future, must be very insufficient to
-their support; and whenever they changed their quarters, either Jane or
-herself were sure of being applied to for some little assistance towards
-discharging their bills. Their manner of living, even when the
-restoration of peace dismissed them to a home, was unsettled in the
-extreme. They were always moving from place to place in quest of a
-cheap situation, and always spending more than they ought. His affection
-for her soon sunk into indifference: hers lasted a little longer; and,
-in spite of her youth and her manners, she retained all the claims to
-reputation which her marriage had given her. Though Darcy could never
-receive _him_ at Pemberley, yet, for Elizabeth’s sake, he assisted him
-further in his profession. Lydia was occasionally a visitor there, when
-her husband was gone to enjoy himself in London or Bath; and with the
-Bingleys they both of them frequently stayed so long, that even
-Bingley’s good-humour was overcome, and he proceeded so far as to _talk_
-of giving them a hint to be gone.
-
-Miss Bingley was very deeply mortified by Darcy’s marriage; but as she
-thought it advisable to retain the right of visiting at Pemberley, she
-dropped all her resentment; was fonder than ever of Georgiana, almost as
-attentive to Darcy as heretofore, and paid off every arrear of civility
-to Elizabeth.
-
-Pemberley was now Georgiana’s home; and the attachment of the sisters
-was exactly what Darcy had hoped to see. They were able to love each
-other, even as well as they intended. Georgiana had the highest opinion
-in the world of Elizabeth; though at first she often listened with an
-astonishment bordering on alarm at her lively, sportive manner of
-talking to her brother. He, who had always inspired in herself a respect
-which almost overcame her affection, she now saw the object of open
-pleasantry. Her mind received knowledge which had never before fallen in
-her way. By Elizabeth’s instructions she began to comprehend that a
-woman may take liberties with her husband, which a brother will not
-always allow in a sister more than ten years younger than himself.
-
-Lady Catherine was extremely indignant on the marriage of her nephew;
-and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her character, in
-her reply to the letter which announced its arrangement, she sent him
-language so very abusive, especially of Elizabeth, that for some time
-all intercourse was at an end. But at length, by Elizabeth’s persuasion,
-he was prevailed on to overlook the offence, and seek a reconciliation;
-and, after a little further resistance on the part of his aunt, her
-resentment gave way, either to her affection for him, or her curiosity
-to see how his wife conducted herself; and she condescended to wait on
-them at Pemberley, in spite of that pollution which its woods had
-received, not merely from the presence of such a mistress, but the
-visits of her uncle and aunt from the city.
-
-With the Gardiners they were always on the most intimate terms. Darcy,
-as well as Elizabeth, really loved them; and they were both ever
-sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing
-her into Derbyshire, had been the means of uniting them.
-
- [Illustration:
-
- THE
- END
- ]
-
-
-
-
- CHISWICK PRESS:--CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.
- TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.
-
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1342 ***
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1342 *** + + + + + [Illustration: + + GEORGE ALLEN + PUBLISHER + + 156 CHARING CROSS ROAD + LONDON + + RUSKIN HOUSE + ] + + [Illustration: + + _Reading Jane’s Letters._ _Chap 34._ + ] + + + + + PRIDE. + and + PREJUDICE + + by + Jane Austen, + + with a Preface by + George Saintsbury + and + Illustrations by + Hugh Thomson + + [Illustration: 1894] + + Ruskin 156. Charing + House. Cross Road. + + London + George Allen. + + + + + CHISWICK PRESS:--CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO. + TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON. + + + + + [Illustration: + + _To J. Comyns Carr + in acknowledgment of all I + owe to his friendship and + advice, these illustrations are + gratefully inscribed_ + + _Hugh Thomson_ + ] + + + + +PREFACE. + +[Illustration] + + +_Walt Whitman has somewhere a fine and just distinction between “loving +by allowance” and “loving with personal love.” This distinction applies +to books as well as to men and women; and in the case of the not very +numerous authors who are the objects of the personal affection, it +brings a curious consequence with it. There is much more difference as +to their best work than in the case of those others who are loved “by +allowance” by convention, and because it is felt to be the right and +proper thing to love them. And in the sect--fairly large and yet +unusually choice--of Austenians or Janites, there would probably be +found partisans of the claim to primacy of almost every one of the +novels. To some the delightful freshness and humour of_ Northanger +Abbey, _its completeness, finish, and_ entrain, _obscure the undoubted +critical facts that its scale is small, and its scheme, after all, that +of burlesque or parody, a kind in which the first rank is reached with +difficulty._ Persuasion, _relatively faint in tone, and not enthralling +in interest, has devotees who exalt above all the others its exquisite +delicacy and keeping. The catastrophe of_ Mansfield Park _is admittedly +theatrical, the hero and heroine are insipid, and the author has almost +wickedly destroyed all romantic interest by expressly admitting that +Edmund only took Fanny because Mary shocked him, and that Fanny might +very likely have taken Crawford if he had been a little more assiduous; +yet the matchless rehearsal-scenes and the characters of Mrs. Norris and +others have secured, I believe, a considerable party for it._ Sense and +Sensibility _has perhaps the fewest out-and-out admirers; but it does +not want them._ + +_I suppose, however, that the majority of at least competent votes +would, all things considered, be divided between_ Emma _and the present +book; and perhaps the vulgar verdict (if indeed a fondness for Miss +Austen be not of itself a patent of exemption from any possible charge +of vulgarity) would go for_ Emma. _It is the larger, the more varied, the +more popular; the author had by the time of its composition seen rather +more of the world, and had improved her general, though not her most +peculiar and characteristic dialogue; such figures as Miss Bates, as the +Eltons, cannot but unite the suffrages of everybody. On the other hand, +I, for my part, declare for_ Pride and Prejudice _unhesitatingly. It +seems to me the most perfect, the most characteristic, the most +eminently quintessential of its author’s works; and for this contention +in such narrow space as is permitted to me, I propose here to show +cause._ + +_In the first place, the book (it may be barely necessary to remind the +reader) was in its first shape written very early, somewhere about 1796, +when Miss Austen was barely twenty-one; though it was revised and +finished at Chawton some fifteen years later, and was not published till +1813, only four years before her death. I do not know whether, in this +combination of the fresh and vigorous projection of youth, and the +critical revision of middle life, there may be traced the distinct +superiority in point of construction, which, as it seems to me, it +possesses over all the others. The plot, though not elaborate, is almost +regular enough for Fielding; hardly a character, hardly an incident +could be retrenched without loss to the story. The elopement of Lydia +and Wickham is not, like that of Crawford and Mrs. Rushworth, a_ coup de +théâtre; _it connects itself in the strictest way with the course of the +story earlier, and brings about the denouement with complete propriety. +All the minor passages--the loves of Jane and Bingley, the advent of Mr. +Collins, the visit to Hunsford, the Derbyshire tour--fit in after the +same unostentatious, but masterly fashion. There is no attempt at the +hide-and-seek, in-and-out business, which in the transactions between +Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax contributes no doubt a good deal to the +intrigue of_ Emma, _but contributes it in a fashion which I do not think +the best feature of that otherwise admirable book. Although Miss Austen +always liked something of the misunderstanding kind, which afforded her +opportunities for the display of the peculiar and incomparable talent to +be noticed presently, she has been satisfied here with the perfectly +natural occasions provided by the false account of Darcy’s conduct given +by Wickham, and by the awkwardness (arising with equal naturalness) from +the gradual transformation of Elizabeth’s own feelings from positive +aversion to actual love. I do not know whether the all-grasping hand of +the playwright has ever been laid upon_ Pride and Prejudice; _and I dare +say that, if it were, the situations would prove not startling or +garish enough for the footlights, the character-scheme too subtle and +delicate for pit and gallery. But if the attempt were made, it would +certainly not be hampered by any of those loosenesses of construction, +which, sometimes disguised by the conveniences of which the novelist can +avail himself, appear at once on the stage._ + +_I think, however, though the thought will doubtless seem heretical to +more than one school of critics, that construction is not the highest +merit, the choicest gift, of the novelist. It sets off his other gifts +and graces most advantageously to the critical eye; and the want of it +will sometimes mar those graces--appreciably, though not quite +consciously--to eyes by no means ultra-critical. But a very badly-built +novel which excelled in pathetic or humorous character, or which +displayed consummate command of dialogue--perhaps the rarest of all +faculties--would be an infinitely better thing than a faultless plot +acted and told by puppets with pebbles in their mouths. And despite the +ability which Miss Austen has shown in working out the story, I for one +should put_ Pride and Prejudice _far lower if it did not contain what +seem to me the very masterpieces of Miss Austen’s humour and of her +faculty of character-creation--masterpieces who may indeed admit John +Thorpe, the Eltons, Mrs. Norris, and one or two others to their company, +but who, in one instance certainly, and perhaps in others, are still +superior to them._ + +_The characteristics of Miss Austen’s humour are so subtle and delicate +that they are, perhaps, at all times easier to apprehend than to +express, and at any particular time likely to be differently +apprehended by different persons. To me this humour seems to possess a +greater affinity, on the whole, to that of Addison than to any other of +the numerous species of this great British genus. The differences of +scheme, of time, of subject, of literary convention, are, of course, +obvious enough; the difference of sex does not, perhaps, count for much, +for there was a distinctly feminine element in “Mr. Spectator,” and in +Jane Austen’s genius there was, though nothing mannish, much that was +masculine. But the likeness of quality consists in a great number of +common subdivisions of quality--demureness, extreme minuteness of touch, +avoidance of loud tones and glaring effects. Also there is in both a +certain not inhuman or unamiable cruelty. It is the custom with those +who judge grossly to contrast the good nature of Addison with the +savagery of Swift, the mildness of Miss Austen with the boisterousness +of Fielding and Smollett, even with the ferocious practical jokes that +her immediate predecessor, Miss Burney, allowed without very much +protest. Yet, both in Mr. Addison and in Miss Austen there is, though a +restrained and well-mannered, an insatiable and ruthless delight in +roasting and cutting up a fool. A man in the early eighteenth century, +of course, could push this taste further than a lady in the early +nineteenth; and no doubt Miss Austen’s principles, as well as her heart, +would have shrunk from such things as the letter from the unfortunate +husband in the_ Spectator, _who describes, with all the gusto and all the +innocence in the world, how his wife and his friend induce him to play +at blind-man’s-buff. But another_ Spectator _letter--that of the damsel +of fourteen who wishes to marry Mr. Shapely, and assures her selected +Mentor that “he admires your_ Spectators _mightily”--might have been +written by a rather more ladylike and intelligent Lydia Bennet in the +days of Lydia’s great-grandmother; while, on the other hand, some (I +think unreasonably) have found “cynicism” in touches of Miss Austen’s +own, such as her satire of Mrs. Musgrove’s self-deceiving regrets over +her son. But this word “cynical” is one of the most misused in the +English language, especially when, by a glaring and gratuitous +falsification of its original sense, it is applied, not to rough and +snarling invective, but to gentle and oblique satire. If cynicism means +the perception of “the other side,” the sense of “the accepted hells +beneath,” the consciousness that motives are nearly always mixed, and +that to seem is not identical with to be--if this be cynicism, then +every man and woman who is not a fool, who does not care to live in a +fool’s paradise, who has knowledge of nature and the world and life, is +a cynic. And in that sense Miss Austen certainly was one. She may even +have been one in the further sense that, like her own Mr. Bennet, she +took an epicurean delight in dissecting, in displaying, in setting at +work her fools and her mean persons. I think she did take this delight, +and I do not think at all the worse of her for it as a woman, while she +was immensely the better for it as an artist._ + +_In respect of her art generally, Mr. Goldwin Smith has truly observed +that “metaphor has been exhausted in depicting the perfection of it, +combined with the narrowness of her field;” and he has justly added that +we need not go beyond her own comparison to the art of a miniature +painter. To make this latter observation quite exact we must not use the +term miniature in its restricted sense, and must think rather of Memling +at one end of the history of painting and Meissonier at the other, than +of Cosway or any of his kind. And I am not so certain that I should +myself use the word “narrow” in connection with her. If her world is a +microcosm, the cosmic quality of it is at least as eminent as the +littleness. She does not touch what she did not feel herself called to +paint; I am not so sure that she could not have painted what she did not +feel herself called to touch. It is at least remarkable that in two very +short periods of writing--one of about three years, and another of not +much more than five--she executed six capital works, and has not left a +single failure. It is possible that the romantic paste in her +composition was defective: we must always remember that hardly +anybody born in her decade--that of the eighteenth-century +seventies--independently exhibited the full romantic quality. Even Scott +required hill and mountain and ballad, even Coleridge metaphysics and +German to enable them to chip the classical shell. Miss Austen was an +English girl, brought up in a country retirement, at the time when +ladies went back into the house if there was a white frost which might +pierce their kid shoes, when a sudden cold was the subject of the +gravest fears, when their studies, their ways, their conduct were +subject to all those fantastic limits and restrictions against which +Mary Wollstonecraft protested with better general sense than particular +taste or judgment. Miss Austen, too, drew back when the white frost +touched her shoes; but I think she would have made a pretty good journey +even in a black one._ + +_For if her knowledge was not very extended, she knew two things which +only genius knows. The one was humanity, and the other was art. On the +first head she could not make a mistake; her men, though limited, are +true, and her women are, in the old sense, “absolute.” As to art, if she +has never tried idealism, her realism is real to a degree which makes +the false realism of our own day look merely dead-alive. Take almost any +Frenchman, except the late M. de Maupassant, and watch him laboriously +piling up strokes in the hope of giving a complete impression. You get +none; you are lucky if, discarding two-thirds of what he gives, you can +shape a real impression out of the rest. But with Miss Austen the +myriad, trivial, unforced strokes build up the picture like magic. +Nothing is false; nothing is superfluous. When (to take the present book +only) Mr. Collins changed his mind from Jane to Elizabeth “while Mrs. +Bennet was stirring the fire” (and we know_ how _Mrs. Bennet would have +stirred the fire), when Mr. Darcy “brought his coffee-cup back_ +himself,” _the touch in each case is like that of Swift--“taller by the +breadth of my nail”--which impressed the half-reluctant Thackeray with +just and outspoken admiration. Indeed, fantastic as it may seem, I +should put Miss Austen as near to Swift in some ways, as I have put her +to Addison in others._ + +_This Swiftian quality appears in the present novel as it appears +nowhere else in the character of the immortal, the ineffable Mr. +Collins. Mr. Collins is really_ great; _far greater than anything Addison +ever did, almost great enough for Fielding or for Swift himself. It has +been said that no one ever was like him. But in the first place,_ he +_was like him; he is there--alive, imperishable, more real than hundreds +of prime ministers and archbishops, of “metals, semi-metals, and +distinguished philosophers.” In the second place, it is rash, I think, +to conclude that an actual Mr. Collins was impossible or non-existent at +the end of the eighteenth century. It is very interesting that we +possess, in this same gallery, what may be called a spoiled first +draught, or an unsuccessful study of him, in John Dashwood. The +formality, the under-breeding, the meanness, are there; but the portrait +is only half alive, and is felt to be even a little unnatural. Mr. +Collins is perfectly natural, and perfectly alive. In fact, for all the +“miniature,” there is something gigantic in the way in which a certain +side, and more than one, of humanity, and especially eighteenth-century +humanity, its Philistinism, its well-meaning but hide-bound morality, +its formal pettiness, its grovelling respect for rank, its materialism, +its selfishness, receives exhibition. I will not admit that one speech +or one action of this inestimable man is incapable of being reconciled +with reality, and I should not wonder if many of these words and actions +are historically true._ + +_But the greatness of Mr. Collins could not have been so satisfactorily +exhibited if his creatress had not adjusted so artfully to him the +figures of Mr. Bennet and of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. The latter, like +Mr. Collins himself, has been charged with exaggeration. There is, +perhaps, a very faint shade of colour for the charge; but it seems to me +very faint indeed. Even now I do not think that it would be impossible +to find persons, especially female persons, not necessarily of noble +birth, as overbearing, as self-centred, as neglectful of good manners, +as Lady Catherine. A hundred years ago, an earl’s daughter, the Lady +Powerful (if not exactly Bountiful) of an out-of-the-way country parish, +rich, long out of marital authority, and so forth, had opportunities of +developing these agreeable characteristics which seldom present +themselves now. As for Mr. Bennet, Miss Austen, and Mr. Darcy, and even +Miss Elizabeth herself, were, I am inclined to think, rather hard on him +for the “impropriety” of his conduct. His wife was evidently, and must +always have been, a quite irreclaimable fool; and unless he had shot her +or himself there was no way out of it for a man of sense and spirit but +the ironic. From no other point of view is he open to any reproach, +except for an excusable and not unnatural helplessness at the crisis of +the elopement, and his utterances are the most acutely delightful in the +consciously humorous kind--in the kind that we laugh with, not at--that +even Miss Austen has put into the mouth of any of her characters. It is +difficult to know whether he is most agreeable when talking to his wife, +or when putting Mr. Collins through his paces; but the general sense of +the world has probably been right in preferring to the first rank his +consolation to the former when she maunders over the entail, “My dear, +do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for better things. +Let us flatter ourselves that_ I _may be the survivor;” and his inquiry +to his colossal cousin as to the compliments which Mr. Collins has just +related as made by himself to Lady Catherine, “May I ask whether these +pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the +result of previous study?” These are the things which give Miss Austen’s +readers the pleasant shocks, the delightful thrills, which are felt by +the readers of Swift, of Fielding, and we may here add, of Thackeray, as +they are felt by the readers of no other English author of fiction +outside of these four._ + +_The goodness of the minor characters in_ Pride and Prejudice _has been +already alluded to, and it makes a detailed dwelling on their beauties +difficult in any space, and impossible in this. Mrs. Bennet we have +glanced at, and it is not easy to say whether she is more exquisitely +amusing or more horribly true. Much the same may be said of Kitty and +Lydia; but it is not every author, even of genius, who would have +differentiated with such unerring skill the effects of folly and +vulgarity of intellect and disposition working upon the common +weaknesses of woman at such different ages. With Mary, Miss Austen has +taken rather less pains, though she has been even more unkind to her; +not merely in the text, but, as we learn from those interesting +traditional appendices which Mr. Austen Leigh has given us, in dooming +her privately to marry “one of Mr. Philips’s clerks.” The habits of +first copying and then retailing moral sentiments, of playing and +singing too long in public, are, no doubt, grievous and criminal; but +perhaps poor Mary was rather the scapegoat of the sins of blue stockings +in that Fordyce-belectured generation. It is at any rate difficult not +to extend to her a share of the respect and affection (affection and +respect of a peculiar kind; doubtless), with which one regards Mr. +Collins, when she draws the moral of Lydia’s fall. I sometimes wish +that the exigencies of the story had permitted Miss Austen to unite +these personages, and thus at once achieve a notable mating and soothe +poor Mrs. Bennet’s anguish over the entail._ + +_The Bingleys and the Gardiners and the Lucases, Miss Darcy and Miss de +Bourgh, Jane, Wickham, and the rest, must pass without special comment, +further than the remark that Charlotte Lucas (her egregious papa, though +delightful, is just a little on the thither side of the line between +comedy and farce) is a wonderfully clever study in drab of one kind, and +that Wickham (though something of Miss Austen’s hesitation of touch in +dealing with young men appears) is a not much less notable sketch in +drab of another. Only genius could have made Charlotte what she is, yet +not disagreeable; Wickham what he is, without investing him either with +a cheap Don Juanish attractiveness or a disgusting rascality. But the +hero and the heroine are not tints to be dismissed._ + +_Darcy has always seemed to me by far the best and most interesting of +Miss Austen’s heroes; the only possible competitor being Henry Tilney, +whose part is so slight and simple that it hardly enters into +comparison. It has sometimes, I believe, been urged that his pride is +unnatural at first in its expression and later in its yielding, while +his falling in love at all is not extremely probable. Here again I +cannot go with the objectors. Darcy’s own account of the way in which +his pride had been pampered, is perfectly rational and sufficient; and +nothing could be, psychologically speaking, a_ causa verior _for its +sudden restoration to healthy conditions than the shock of Elizabeth’s +scornful refusal acting on a nature_ ex hypothesi _generous. Nothing in +even our author is finer and more delicately touched than the change of +his demeanour at the sudden meeting in the grounds of Pemberley. Had he +been a bad prig or a bad coxcomb, he might have been still smarting +under his rejection, or suspicious that the girl had come +husband-hunting. His being neither is exactly consistent with the +probable feelings of a man spoilt in the common sense, but not really +injured in disposition, and thoroughly in love. As for his being in +love, Elizabeth has given as just an exposition of the causes of that +phenomenon as Darcy has of the conditions of his unregenerate state, +only she has of course not counted in what was due to her own personal +charm._ + +_The secret of that charm many men and not a few women, from Miss Austen +herself downwards, have felt, and like most charms it is a thing rather +to be felt than to be explained. Elizabeth of course belongs to the_ +allegro _or_ allegra _division of the army of Venus. Miss Austen was +always provokingly chary of description in regard to her beauties; and +except the fine eyes, and a hint or two that she had at any rate +sometimes a bright complexion, and was not very tall, we hear nothing +about her looks. But her chief difference from other heroines of the +lively type seems to lie first in her being distinctly clever--almost +strong-minded, in the better sense of that objectionable word--and +secondly in her being entirely destitute of ill-nature for all her +propensity to tease and the sharpness of her tongue. Elizabeth can give +at least as good as she gets when she is attacked; but she never +“scratches,” and she never attacks first. Some of the merest +obsoletenesses of phrase and manner give one or two of her early +speeches a slight pertness, but that is nothing, and when she comes to +serious business, as in the great proposal scene with Darcy (which is, +as it should be, the climax of the interest of the book), and in the +final ladies’ battle with Lady Catherine, she is unexceptionable. Then +too she is a perfectly natural girl. She does not disguise from herself +or anybody that she resents Darcy’s first ill-mannered personality with +as personal a feeling. (By the way, the reproach that the ill-manners of +this speech are overdone is certainly unjust; for things of the same +kind, expressed no doubt less stiltedly but more coarsely, might have +been heard in more than one ball-room during this very year from persons +who ought to have been no worse bred than Darcy.) And she lets the +injury done to Jane and the contempt shown to the rest of her family +aggravate this resentment in the healthiest way in the world._ + +_Still, all this does not explain her charm, which, taking beauty as a +common form of all heroines, may perhaps consist in the addition to her +playfulness, her wit, her affectionate and natural disposition, of a +certain fearlessness very uncommon in heroines of her type and age. +Nearly all of them would have been in speechless awe of the magnificent +Darcy; nearly all of them would have palpitated and fluttered at the +idea of proposals, even naughty ones, from the fascinating Wickham. +Elizabeth, with nothing offensive, nothing_ viraginous, _nothing of the +“New Woman” about her, has by nature what the best modern (not “new”) +women have by education and experience, a perfect freedom from the idea +that all men may bully her if they choose, and that most will away with +her if they can. Though not in the least “impudent and mannish grown,” +she has no mere sensibility, no nasty niceness about her. The form of +passion common and likely to seem natural in Miss Austen’s day was so +invariably connected with the display of one or the other, or both of +these qualities, that she has not made Elizabeth outwardly passionate. +But I, at least, have not the slightest doubt that she would have +married Darcy just as willingly without Pemberley as with it, and +anybody who can read between lines will not find the lovers’ +conversations in the final chapters so frigid as they might have looked +to the Della Cruscans of their own day, and perhaps do look to the Della +Cruscans of this._ + +_And, after all, what is the good of seeking for the reason of +charm?--it is there. There were better sense in the sad mechanic +exercise of determining the reason of its absence where it is not. In +the novels of the last hundred years there are vast numbers of young +ladies with whom it might be a pleasure to fall in love; there are at +least five with whom, as it seems to me, no man of taste and spirit can +help doing so. Their names are, in chronological order, Elizabeth +Bennet, Diana Vernon, Argemone Lavington, Beatrix Esmond, and Barbara +Grant. I should have been most in love with Beatrix and Argemone; I +should, I think, for mere occasional companionship, have preferred Diana +and Barbara. But to live with and to marry, I do not know that any one +of the four can come into competition with Elizabeth._ + +_GEORGE SAINTSBURY._ + + + + +[Illustration: List of Illustrations.] + + + PAGE + +Frontispiece iv + +Title-page v + +Dedication vii + +Heading to Preface ix + +Heading to List of Illustrations xxv + +Heading to Chapter I. 1 + +“He came down to see the place” 2 + +Mr. and Mrs. Bennet 5 + +“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it” 6 + +“I’m the tallest” 9 + +“He rode a black horse” 10 + +“When the party entered” 12 + +“She is tolerable” 15 + +Heading to Chapter IV. 18 + +Heading to Chapter V. 22 + +“Without once opening his lips” 24 + +Tailpiece to Chapter V. 26 + +Heading to Chapter VI. 27 + +“The entreaties of several” 31 + +“A note for Miss Bennet” 36 + +“Cheerful prognostics” 40 + +“The apothecary came” 43 + +“Covering a screen” 45 + +“Mrs. Bennet and her two youngest girls” 53 + +Heading to Chapter X. 60 + +“No, no; stay where you are” 67 + +“Piling up the fire” 69 + +Heading to Chapter XII. 75 + +Heading to Chapter XIII. 78 + +Heading to Chapter XIV. 84 + +“Protested that he never read novels” 87 + +Heading to Chapter XV. 89 + +Heading to Chapter XVI. 95 + +“The officers of the ----shire” 97 + +“Delighted to see their dear friend again” 108 + +Heading to Chapter XVIII. 113 + +“Such very superior dancing is not often seen” 118 + +“To assure you in the most animated language” 132 + +Heading to Chapter XX. 139 + +“They entered the breakfast-room” 143 + +Heading to Chapter XXI. 146 + +“Walked back with them” 148 + +Heading to Chapter XXII. 154 + +“So much love and eloquence” 156 + +“Protested he must be entirely mistaken” 161 + +“Whenever she spoke in a low voice” 166 + +Heading to Chapter XXIV. 168 + +Heading to Chapter XXV. 175 + +“Offended two or three young ladies” 177 + +“Will you come and see me?” 181 + +“On the stairs” 189 + +“At the door” 194 + +“In conversation with the ladies” 198 + +“Lady Catherine,” said she, “you have given me a treasure” 200 + +Heading to Chapter XXX. 209 + +“He never failed to inform them” 211 + +“The gentlemen accompanied him” 213 + +Heading to Chapter XXXI. 215 + +Heading to Chapter XXXII. 221 + +“Accompanied by their aunt” 225 + +“On looking up” 228 + +Heading to Chapter XXXIV. 235 + +“Hearing herself called” 243 + +Heading to Chapter XXXVI. 253 + +“Meeting accidentally in town” 256 + +“His parting obeisance” 261 + +“Dawson” 263 + +“The elevation of his feelings” 267 + +“They had forgotten to leave any message” 270 + +“How nicely we are crammed in!” 272 + +Heading to Chapter XL. 278 + +“I am determined never to speak of it again” 283 + +“When Colonel Miller’s regiment went away” 285 + +“Tenderly flirting” 290 + +The arrival of the Gardiners 294 + +“Conjecturing as to the date” 301 + +Heading to Chapter XLIV. 318 + +“To make herself agreeable to all” 321 + +“Engaged by the river” 327 + +Heading to Chapter XLVI. 334 + +“I have not an instant to lose” 339 + +“The first pleasing earnest of their welcome” 345 + +The Post 359 + +“To whom I have related the affair” 363 + +Heading to Chapter XLIX. 368 + +“But perhaps you would like to read it” 370 + +“The spiteful old ladies” 377 + +“With an affectionate smile” 385 + +“I am sure she did not listen” 393 + +“Mr. Darcy with him” 404 + +“Jane happened to look round” 415 + +“Mrs. Long and her nieces” 420 + +“Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak to you” 422 + +Heading to Chapter LVI. 431 + +“After a short survey” 434 + +“But now it comes out” 442 + +“The efforts of his aunt” 448 + +“Unable to utter a syllable” 457 + +“The obsequious civility” 466 + +Heading to Chapter LXI. 472 + +The End 476 + + + + +[Illustration: ·PRIDE AND PREJUDICE· + + + + +Chapter I.] + + +It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession +of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. + +However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his +first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds +of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful +property of some one or other of their daughters. + +“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that +Netherfield Park is let at last?” + +Mr. Bennet replied that he had not. + +“But it is,” returned she; “for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she +told me all about it.” + +Mr. Bennet made no answer. + +“Do not you want to know who has taken it?” cried his wife, impatiently. + +“_You_ want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.” + +[Illustration: + +“He came down to see the place” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +This was invitation enough. + +“Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken +by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came +down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much +delighted with it that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is +to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be +in the house by the end of next week.” + +“What is his name?” + +“Bingley.” + +“Is he married or single?” + +“Oh, single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or +five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!” + +“How so? how can it affect them?” + +“My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “how can you be so tiresome? You +must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.” + +“Is that his design in settling here?” + +“Design? Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he +_may_ fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as +soon as he comes.” + +“I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go--or you may send +them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better; for as you are +as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley might like you the best of the +party.” + +“My dear, you flatter me. I certainly _have_ had my share of beauty, but +I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has five +grown-up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty.” + +“In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of.” + +“But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into +the neighbourhood.” + +“It is more than I engage for, I assure you.” + +“But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would +be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, +merely on that account; for in general, you know, they visit no new +comers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for _us_ to visit +him, if you do not.” + +“You are over scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very +glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my +hearty consent to his marrying whichever he chooses of the girls--though +I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.” + +“I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the +others: and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so +good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving _her_ the preference.” + +“They have none of them much to recommend them,” replied he: “they are +all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy has something more of +quickness than her sisters.” + +“Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take +delight in vexing me. You have no compassion on my poor nerves.” + +“You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They +are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration +these twenty years at least.” + +“Ah, you do not know what I suffer.” + +“But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four +thousand a year come into the neighbourhood.” + +“It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not +visit them.” + +“Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them +all.” + +Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, +reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had +been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. _Her_ mind +was less difficult to develope. She was a woman of mean understanding, +little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she +fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her +daughters married: its solace was visiting and news. + +[Illustration: M^{r.} & M^{rs.} Bennet + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +[Illustration: + +“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +[Illustration] + +Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley. He +had always intended to visit him, though to the last always assuring his +wife that he should not go; and till the evening after the visit was +paid she had no knowledge of it. It was then disclosed in the following +manner. Observing his second daughter employed in trimming a hat, he +suddenly addressed her with,-- + +“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.” + +“We are not in a way to know _what_ Mr. Bingley likes,” said her mother, +resentfully, “since we are not to visit.” + +“But you forget, mamma,” said Elizabeth, “that we shall meet him at the +assemblies, and that Mrs. Long has promised to introduce him.” + +“I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two nieces +of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion +of her.” + +“No more have I,” said Mr. Bennet; “and I am glad to find that you do +not depend on her serving you.” + +Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply; but, unable to contain +herself, began scolding one of her daughters. + +“Don’t keep coughing so, Kitty, for heaven’s sake! Have a little +compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.” + +“Kitty has no discretion in her coughs,” said her father; “she times +them ill.” + +“I do not cough for my own amusement,” replied Kitty, fretfully. “When +is your next ball to be, Lizzy?” + +“To-morrow fortnight.” + +“Ay, so it is,” cried her mother, “and Mrs. Long does not come back till +the day before; so, it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for +she will not know him herself.” + +“Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce +Mr. Bingley to _her_.” + +“Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him +myself; how can you be so teasing?” + +“I honour your circumspection. A fortnight’s acquaintance is certainly +very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a +fortnight. But if _we_ do not venture, somebody else will; and after +all, Mrs. Long and her nieces must stand their chance; and, therefore, +as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I +will take it on myself.” + +The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only, “Nonsense, +nonsense!” + +“What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?” cried he. “Do +you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on +them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you _there_. What say you, +Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read +great books, and make extracts.” + +Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how. + +“While Mary is adjusting her ideas,” he continued, “let us return to Mr. +Bingley.” + +“I am sick of Mr. Bingley,” cried his wife. + +“I am sorry to hear _that_; but why did you not tell me so before? If I +had known as much this morning, I certainly would not have called on +him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we +cannot escape the acquaintance now.” + +The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished--that of Mrs. +Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though when the first tumult of joy +was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the +while. + +“How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should +persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well to +neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! And it is such a +good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning, and never said a +word about it till now.” + +“Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose,” said Mr. Bennet; and, +as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife. + +“What an excellent father you have, girls,” said she, when the door was +shut. “I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness; +or me either, for that matter. At our time of life, it is not so +pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances every day; but +for your sakes we would do anything. Lydia, my love, though you _are_ +the youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next +ball.” + +“Oh,” said Lydia, stoutly, “I am not afraid; for though I _am_ the +youngest, I’m the tallest.” + +The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he would +return Mr. Bennet’s visit, and determining when they should ask him to +dinner. + +[Illustration: “I’m the tallest”] + + + + +[Illustration: + + “He rode a black horse” +] + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +[Illustration] + +Not all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five +daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw from her +husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. They attacked him +in various ways, with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and +distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all; and they were at +last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour, +Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable. Sir William had been +delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely +agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly +with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of +dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively +hopes of Mr. Bingley’s heart were entertained. + +“If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,” +said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well +married, I shall have nothing to wish for.” + +In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet’s visit, and sat about ten +minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being +admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard +much; but he saw only the father. The ladies were somewhat more +fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining, from an upper +window, that he wore a blue coat and rode a black horse. + +An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards despatched; and already had +Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her +housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Bingley +was obliged to be in town the following day, and consequently unable to +accept the honour of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite +disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town +so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that +he might always be flying about from one place to another, and never +settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Lucas quieted her fears a +little by starting the idea of his + +[Illustration: + + “When the Party entered” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +being gone to London only to get a large party for the ball; and a +report soon followed that Mr. Bingley was to bring twelve ladies and +seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls grieved over such a +number of ladies; but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing +that, instead of twelve, he had brought only six with him from London, +his five sisters and a cousin. And when the party entered the +assembly-room, it consisted of only five altogether: Mr. Bingley, his +two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and another young man. + +Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike: he had a pleasant +countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, +with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely +looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention +of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and +the report, which was in general circulation within five minutes after +his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. The gentlemen +pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was +much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great +admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust +which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be +proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his +large estate in Derbyshire could save him from having a most forbidding, +disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his +friend. + +Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal +people in the room: he was lively and unreserved, danced every dance, +was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one +himself at Netherfield. Such amiable qualities must speak for +themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced +only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being +introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in +walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party. +His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in +the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again. +Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of +his general behaviour was sharpened into particular resentment by his +having slighted one of her daughters. + +Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit +down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr. Darcy had been +standing near enough for her to overhear a conversation between him and +Mr. Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes to press his +friend to join it. + +“Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you +standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better +dance.” + +“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am +particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it +would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not +another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to +stand up with.” + +“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Bingley, “for a +kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my +life as I have this evening; and there are several of them, you see, +uncommonly pretty.” + +“_You_ are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. +Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet. + +“Oh, she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one +of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I +dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.” + +[Illustration: + +“She is tolerable” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +“Which do you mean?” and turning round, he looked for a moment at +Elizabeth, till, catching her eye, he withdrew his own, and coldly said, +“She is tolerable: but not handsome enough to tempt _me_; and I am in no +humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted +by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her +smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.” + +Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth +remained with no very cordial feelings towards him. She told the story, +however, with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, +playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous. + +The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs. +Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield +party. Mr. Bingley had danced with her twice, and she had been +distinguished by his sisters. Jane was as much gratified by this as her +mother could be, though in a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane’s +pleasure. Mary had heard herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most +accomplished girl in the neighbourhood; and Catherine and Lydia had been +fortunate enough to be never without partners, which was all that they +had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned, therefore, in good +spirits to Longbourn, the village where they lived, and of which they +were the principal inhabitants. They found Mr. Bennet still up. With a +book, he was regardless of time; and on the present occasion he had a +good deal of curiosity as to the event of an evening which had raised +such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that all his wife’s +views on the stranger would be disappointed; but he soon found that he +had a very different story to hear. + +“Oh, my dear Mr. Bennet,” as she entered the room, “we have had a most +delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there. +Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it. Everybody said how well +she looked; and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with +her twice. Only think of _that_, my dear: he actually danced with her +twice; and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second +time. First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand +up with her; but, however, he did not admire her at all; indeed, nobody +can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was going +down the dance. So he inquired who she was, and got introduced, and +asked her for the two next. Then, the two third he danced with Miss +King, and the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane +again, and the two sixth with Lizzy, and the _Boulanger_----” + +“If he had had any compassion for _me_,” cried her husband impatiently, +“he would not have danced half so much! For God’s sake, say no more of +his partners. O that he had sprained his ancle in the first dance!” + +“Oh, my dear,” continued Mrs. Bennet, “I am quite delighted with him. He +is so excessively handsome! and his sisters are charming women. I never +in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses. I dare say the +lace upon Mrs. Hurst’s gown----” + +Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet protested against any +description of finery. She was therefore obliged to seek another branch +of the subject, and related, with much bitterness of spirit, and some +exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. Darcy. + +“But I can assure you,” she added, “that Lizzy does not lose much by not +suiting _his_ fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at +all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited, that there was no enduring +him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very +great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my +dear, to have given him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man.” + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +[Illustration] + +When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in +her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister how very much +she admired him. + +“He is just what a young-man ought to be,” said she, “sensible, +good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! so much ease, +with such perfect good breeding!” + +“He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man ought +likewise to be if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete.” + +“I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I +did not expect such a compliment.” + +“Did not you? _I_ did for you. But that is one great difference between +us. Compliments always take _you_ by surprise, and _me_ never. What +could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help +seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in +the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is +very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a +stupider person.” + +“Dear Lizzy!” + +“Oh, you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. +You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable +in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in my life.” + +“I would wish not to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always speak +what I think.” + +“I know you do: and it is _that_ which makes the wonder. With _your_ +good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of +others! Affectation of candour is common enough; one meets with it +everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design,--to take the +good of everybody’s character and make it still better, and say nothing +of the bad,--belongs to you alone. And so, you like this man’s sisters, +too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his.” + +“Certainly not, at first; but they are very pleasing women when you +converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother, and keep +his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming +neighbour in her.” + +Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced: their behaviour at +the assembly had not been calculated to please in general; and with more +quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than her sister, and +with a judgment, too, unassailed by any attention to herself, she was +very little disposed to approve them. They were, in fact, very fine +ladies; not deficient in good-humour when they were pleased, nor in the +power of being agreeable where they chose it; but proud and conceited. +They were rather handsome; had been educated in one of the first private +seminaries in town; had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds; were in the +habit of spending more than they ought, and of associating with people +of rank; and were, therefore, in every respect entitled to think well of +themselves and meanly of others. They were of a respectable family in +the north of England; a circumstance more deeply impressed on their +memories than that their brother’s fortune and their own had been +acquired by trade. + +Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly a hundred +thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate, +but did not live to do it. Mr. Bingley intended it likewise, and +sometimes made choice of his county; but, as he was now provided with a +good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those +who best knew the easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the +remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to +purchase. + +His sisters were very anxious for his having an estate of his own; but +though he was now established only as a tenant, Miss Bingley was by no +means unwilling to preside at his table; nor was Mrs. Hurst, who had +married a man of more fashion than fortune, less disposed to consider +his house as her home when it suited her. Mr. Bingley had not been of +age two years when he was tempted, by an accidental recommendation, to +look at Netherfield House. He did look at it, and into it, for half an +hour; was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied +with what the owner said in its praise, and took it immediately. + +Between him and Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in spite of a +great opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the +easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, though no disposition +could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he +never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy’s regard, Bingley +had the firmest reliance, and of his judgment the highest opinion. In +understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means +deficient; but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty, +reserved, and fastidious; and his manners, though well bred, were not +inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley +was sure of being liked wherever he appeared; Darcy was continually +giving offence. + +The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently +characteristic. Bingley had never met with pleasanter people or prettier +girls in his life; everybody had been most kind and attentive to him; +there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted +with all the room; and as to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel +more beautiful. Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people +in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had +felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or +pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty; but she smiled too +much. + +Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so; but still they admired +her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet girl, and one whom +they should not object to know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore +established as a sweet girl; and their brother felt authorized by such +commendation to think of her as he chose. + + + + +[Illustration: [_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +[Illustration] + +Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the Bennets +were particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas had been formerly in trade +in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune, and risen to the +honour of knighthood by an address to the king during his mayoralty. The +distinction had, perhaps, been felt too strongly. It had given him a +disgust to his business and to his residence in a small market town; +and, quitting them both, he had removed with his family to a house about +a mile from Meryton, denominated from that period Lucas Lodge; where he +could think with pleasure of his own importance, and, unshackled by +business, occupy himself solely in being civil to all the world. For, +though elated by his rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the +contrary, he was all attention to everybody. By nature inoffensive, +friendly, and obliging, his presentation at St. James’s had made him +courteous. + +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_.” + +“I beg you will not put it into Lizzy’s head to be vexed by his +ill-treatment, for he is such a disagreeable man that it would be quite +a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he +sat close to her for half an hour without once opening his lips.” + +[Illustration: “Without once opening his lips” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +“Are you quite sure, ma’am? Is not there a little mistake?” said Jane. +“I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her.” + +“Ay, because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he +could not help answering her; but she said he seemed very angry at being +spoke to.” + +“Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much unless +among his intimate acquaintance. With _them_ he is remarkably +agreeable.” + +“I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very +agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it +was; everybody says that he is eat up with pride, and I dare say he had +heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had to come +to the ball in a hack chaise.” + +“I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long,” said Miss Lucas, “but I +wish he had danced with Eliza.” + +“Another time, Lizzy,” said her mother, “I would not dance with _him_, +if I were you.” + +“I believe, ma’am, I may safely promise you _never_ to dance with him.” + +“His pride,” said Miss Lucas, “does not offend _me_ so much as pride +often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so +very fine a young man, with family, fortune, everything in his favour, +should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a _right_ +to be proud.” + +“That is very true,” replied Elizabeth, “and I could easily forgive +_his_ pride, if he had not mortified _mine_.” + +“Pride,” observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her +reflections, “is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have +ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human +nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us +who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some +quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different +things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be +proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of +ourselves; vanity to what we would have others think of us.” + +“If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy,” cried a young Lucas, who came with his +sisters, “I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of +foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine every day.” + +“Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought,” said Mrs. +Bennet; “and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle +directly.” + +The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she +would; and the argument ended only with the visit. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +[Illustration] + +The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit +was returned in due form. Miss Bennet’s pleasing manners grew on the +good-will of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and though the mother was +found to be intolerable, and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, +a wish of being better acquainted with _them_ was expressed towards the +two eldest. By Jane this attention was received with the greatest +pleasure; but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their treatment of +everybody, hardly excepting even her sister, and could not like them; +though their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value, as arising, +in all probability, from the influence of their brother’s admiration. It +was generally evident, whenever they met, that he _did_ admire her; and +to _her_ it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference +which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a +way to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure that it +was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane +united with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and an +uniform cheerfulness of manner, which would guard her from the +suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend, Miss +Lucas. + +“It may, perhaps, be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to impose +on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be +so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill +from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and +it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the +dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every +attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all +_begin_ freely--a slight preference is natural enough; but there are +very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without +encouragement. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better show _more_ +affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he +may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on.” + +“But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If _I_ can +perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton indeed not to +discover it too.” + +“Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane’s disposition as you do.” + +“But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavor to conceal +it, he must find it out.” + +“Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But though Bingley and Jane +meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and as they +always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that +every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should +therefore make the most of every half hour in which she can command his +attention. When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling +in love as much as she chooses.” + +“Your plan is a good one,” replied Elizabeth, “where nothing is in +question but the desire of being well married; and if I were determined +to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But +these are not Jane’s feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet she +cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard, nor of its +reasonableness. She has known him only a fortnight. She danced four +dances with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house, +and has since dined in company with him four times. This is not quite +enough to make her understand his character.” + +“Not as you represent it. Had she merely _dined_ with him, she might +only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but you must +remember that four evenings have been also spent together--and four +evenings may do a great deal.” + +“Yes: these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both +like Vingt-un better than Commerce, but with respect to any other +leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded.” + +“Well,” said Charlotte, “I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if +she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a +chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a +twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If +the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or +ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the +least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to +have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as +possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your +life.” + +“You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not +sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself.” + +Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley’s attention to her sister, Elizabeth +was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some +interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely +allowed her to be pretty: he had looked at her without admiration at the +ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no +sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had +hardly a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered +uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To +this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had +detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry +in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and +pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those +of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of +this she was perfectly unaware: to her he was only the man who made +himself agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought her handsome enough +to dance with. + +He began to wish to know more of her; and, as a step towards conversing +with her himself, attended to her conversation with others. His doing so +drew her notice. It was at Sir William Lucas’s, where a large party were +assembled. + +“What does Mr. Darcy mean,” said she to Charlotte, “by listening to my +conversation with Colonel Forster?” + +“That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer.” + +“But if he does it any more, I shall certainly let him know that I see +what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by +being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him.” + +[Illustration: “The entreaties of several” [_Copyright 1894 by George +Allen._]] + +On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have +any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such +a subject to him, which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she +turned to him and said,-- + +“Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well +just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at +Meryton?” + +“With great energy; but it is a subject which always makes a lady +energetic.” + +“You are severe on us.” + +“It will be _her_ turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas. “I am going +to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.” + +“You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!--always wanting me +to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a +musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would +really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of +hearing the very best performers.” On Miss Lucas’s persevering, however, +she added, “Very well; if it must be so, it must.” And gravely glancing +at Mr. Darcy, “There is a very fine old saying, which everybody here is +of course familiar with--‘Keep your breath to cool your porridge,’--and +I shall keep mine to swell my song.” + +Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song +or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she +would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her +sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in +the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always +impatient for display. + +Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her +application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited +manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she +had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with +much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the +end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by +Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who with +some of the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in +dancing at one end of the room. + +Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of +passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too +much engrossed by his own thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas +was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began:-- + +“What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is +nothing like dancing, after all. I consider it as one of the first +refinements of polished societies.” + +“Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst +the less polished societies of the world: every savage can dance.” + +Sir William only smiled. “Your friend performs delightfully,” he +continued, after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; “and I doubt +not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy.” + +“You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir.” + +“Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do +you often dance at St. James’s?” + +“Never, sir.” + +“Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?” + +“It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it.” + +“You have a house in town, I conclude?” + +Mr. Darcy bowed. + +“I had once some thoughts of fixing in town myself, for I am fond of +superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of +London would agree with Lady Lucas.” + +He paused in hopes of an answer: but his companion was not disposed to +make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving towards them, he was +struck with the notion of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to +her,-- + +“My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow +me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You +cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.” +And, taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy, who, though +extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly +drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William,-- + +“Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you +not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.” + +Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the honour of +her hand, but in vain. Elizabeth was determined; nor did Sir William at +all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion. + +“You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me +the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the +amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us +for one half hour.” + +“Mr. Darcy is all politeness,” said Elizabeth, smiling. + +“He is, indeed: but considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we +cannot wonder at his complaisance; for who would object to such a +partner?” + +Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not injured +her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her with some +complacency, when thus accosted by Miss Bingley,-- + +“I can guess the subject of your reverie.” + +“I should imagine not.” + +“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many +evenings in this manner,--in such society; and, indeed, I am quite of +your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the +noise--the nothingness, and yet the self-importance, of all these +people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!” + +“Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more +agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure +which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.” + +Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he +would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. +Mr. Darcy replied, with great intrepidity,-- + +“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” + +“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” repeated Miss Bingley. “I am all astonishment. +How long has she been such a favourite? and pray when am I to wish you +joy?” + +“That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady’s +imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love +to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.” + +“Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter as +absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed, and +of course she will be always at Pemberley with you.” + +He listened to her with perfect indifference, while she chose to +entertain herself in this manner; and as his composure convinced her +that all was safe, her wit flowed along. + + + + +[Illustration: + + “A note for Miss Bennet” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +[Illustration] + +Mr. Bennet’s property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two +thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed, +in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother’s +fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply +the deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, and +had left her four thousand pounds. + +She had a sister married to a Mr. Philips, who had been a clerk to their +father and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled in +London in a respectable line of trade. + +The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most +convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted +thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt, and +to a milliner’s shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family, +Catherine and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions: +their minds were more vacant than their sisters’, and when nothing +better offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning +hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and, however bare of +news the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn +some from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well supplied both +with news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in +the neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was +the head-quarters. + +Their visits to Mrs. Philips were now productive of the most interesting +intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of the +officers’ names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret, +and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Philips +visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a source of felicity +unknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. +Bingley’s large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their +mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of +an ensign. + +After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr. +Bennet coolly observed,-- + +“From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two +of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but +I am now convinced.” + +Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with perfect +indifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter, and +her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the +next morning to London. + +“I am astonished, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that you should be so +ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly +of anybody’s children, it should not be of my own, however.” + +“If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it.” + +“Yes; but as it happens, they are all of them very clever.” + +“This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I +had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must +so far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly +foolish.” + +“My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of +their father and mother. When they get to our age, I dare say they will +not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I +liked a red coat myself very well--and, indeed, so I do still at my +heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year, +should want one of my girls, I shall not say nay to him; and I thought +Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William’s in +his regimentals.” + +“Mamma,” cried Lydia, “my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain +Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson’s as they did when they first +came; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke’s library.” + +Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a +note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited +for an answer. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was +eagerly calling out, while her daughter read,-- + +“Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, +Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.” + +“It is from Miss Bingley,” said Jane, and then read it aloud. + + /* NIND “My dear friend, */ + + “If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and + me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our + lives; for a whole day’s _tête-à-tête_ between two women can never + end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on the receipt of + this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers. + Yours ever, + +“CAROLINE BINGLEY.” + +“With the officers!” cried Lydia: “I wonder my aunt did not tell us of +_that_.” + +“Dining out,” said Mrs. Bennet; “that is very unlucky.” + +“Can I have the carriage?” said Jane. + +“No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to +rain; and then you must stay all night.” + +“That would be a good scheme,” said Elizabeth, “if you were sure that +they would not offer to send her home.” + +“Oh, but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley’s chaise to go to Meryton; +and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.” + +“I had much rather go in the coach.” + +“But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are +wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are not they?” + +[Illustration: Cheerful prognostics] + +“They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.” + +“But if you have got them to-day,” said Elizabeth, “my mother’s purpose +will be answered.” + +She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses +were engaged; Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her +mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad +day. Her hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before it +rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was +delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission; +Jane certainly could not come back. + +“This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!” said Mrs. Bennet, more than +once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next +morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her +contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield +brought the following note for Elizabeth:-- + + /* NIND “My dearest Lizzie, */ + + “I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be + imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will + not hear of my returning home till I am better. They insist also on + my seeing Mr. Jones--therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear + of his having been to me--and, excepting a sore throat and a + headache, there is not much the matter with me. + +“Yours, etc.” + +“Well, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note +aloud, “if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness--if she +should die--it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of +Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.” + +“Oh, I am not at all afraid of her dying. People do not die of little +trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays +there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the +carriage.” + +Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, determined to go to her, though the +carriage was not to be had: and as she was no horsewoman, walking was +her only alternative. She declared her resolution. + +“How can you be so silly,” cried her mother, “as to think of such a +thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get +there.” + +“I shall be very fit to see Jane--which is all I want.” + +“Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,” said her father, “to send for the +horses?” + +“No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing, +when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.” + +“I admire the activity of your benevolence,” observed Mary, “but every +impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, +exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.” + +“We will go as far as Meryton with you,” said Catherine and Lydia. +Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off +together. + +“If we make haste,” said Lydia, as they walked along, “perhaps we may +see something of Captain Carter, before he goes.” + +In Meryton they parted: the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one +of the officers’ wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing +field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing +over puddles, with impatient activity, and finding herself at last +within view of the house, with weary ancles, dirty stockings, and a face +glowing with the warmth of exercise. + +She was shown into the breakfast parlour, where all but Jane were +assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise. +That she should have walked three miles so early in the day in such +dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and +Miss Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt +for it. She was received, however, very politely by them; and in their +brother’s manners there was something better than politeness--there was +good-humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst +nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the +brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion and doubt as to +the occasion’s justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was +thinking only of his breakfast. + +Her inquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss +Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not well +enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her +immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving +alarm or inconvenience, from expressing in her note how much she longed +for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal, +however, to much conversation; and when Miss Bingley left them together, +could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude for the +extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended +her. + +When breakfast was over, they were joined by the sisters; and Elizabeth +began to like them herself, when she saw how much affection and +solicitude they showed for Jane. The apothecary came; and having +examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught a +violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it; +advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice +was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head +ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment, nor were +the other ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had in fact +nothing to do elsewhere. + +When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and very +unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only +wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern +at parting with her that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer +of the chaise into an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the +present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was +despatched to Longbourn, to acquaint the family with her stay, and bring +back a supply of clothes. + +[Illustration: + +“The Apothecary came” +] + + + + +[Illustration: + +“covering a screen” +] + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +[Illustration] + +At five o’clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half-past six +Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. 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. + +Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could +regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his +attentions to herself most pleasing; and they prevented her feeling +herself so much an intruder as she believed she was considered by the +others. She had very little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was +engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for 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. + +When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley +began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were +pronounced to be very bad indeed,--a mixture of pride and impertinence: +she had no conversation, no style, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst +thought the same, and added,-- + +“She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent +walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really +looked almost wild.” + +“She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very +nonsensical to come at all! Why must _she_ be scampering about the +country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowzy!” + +“Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep +in mud, I am absolutely certain, and the gown which had been let down to +hide it not doing its office.” + +“Your picture may be very exact, Louisa,” said Bingley; “but this was +all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well +when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite +escaped my notice.” + +“_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, and Mrs. Hurst began again,-- + +“I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet,--she is really a very sweet +girl,--and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such +a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no +chance of it.” + +“I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in +Meryton?” + +“Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.” + +“That is capital,” added her sister; and they both laughed heartily. + +“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. + +With a renewal of tenderness, however, they repaired to her room on +leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till summoned to coffee. +She was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not quit her at all, till +late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her asleep, and +when it appeared to her rather right than pleasant that she should go +down stairs herself. 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.” + +“In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure,” said Bingley; “and +I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well.” + +Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards a table +where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her +others; all that his library afforded. + +“And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own +credit; but I am an idle fellow; and though I have not many, I have more +than I ever looked into.” + +Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those +in the room. + +“I am astonished,” said Miss Bingley, “that my father should have left +so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at +Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!” + +“It ought to be good,” he replied: “it has been the work of many +generations.” + +“And then you have added so much to it yourself--you are always buying +books.” + +“I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as +these.” + +“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.” + +Elizabeth was so much caught by what passed, as to leave her very little +attention for her book; and, soon laying it wholly aside, she drew near +the card-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest +sister, to observe the game. + +“Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?” said Miss Bingley: “will +she be as tall as I am?” + +“I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height, or +rather taller.” + +“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me +so much. Such a countenance, such manners, and so extremely accomplished +for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.” + +“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience +to be so very accomplished as they all are.” + +“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?” + +“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and +net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this; and I am +sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without +being informed that she was very accomplished.” + +“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has +too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no +otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen; but I am very +far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I +cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen in the whole range of my +acquaintance that are really accomplished.” + +“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley. + +“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your +idea of an accomplished woman.” + +“Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it.” + +“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 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.” + +Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her +implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who +answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with +bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all +conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the +room. + +“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.” + +Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to +continue the subject. + +Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and +that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones’s being sent for +immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no country advice could +be of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most +eminent physicians. This she would not hear of; but she was not so +unwilling to comply with their brother’s proposal; and it was settled +that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if Miss Bennet +were not decidedly better. 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. + + + + +[Illustration: + +M^{rs} Bennet and her two youngest girls + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +[Illustration] + +Elizabeth passed the chief of the night in her sister’s room, and in the +morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the +inquiries which she very early received from Mr. Bingley by a housemaid, +and some time afterwards from the two elegant ladies who waited on his +sisters. In spite of this amendment, however, she requested to have a +note sent to Longbourn, desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her +own judgment of her situation. The note was immediately despatched, and +its contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her +two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast. + +Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been +very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her that her illness was +not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her +restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield. She +would not listen, therefore, to her daughter’s proposal of being carried +home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think +it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, on Miss +Bingley’s appearance and invitation, the mother and three daughters all +attended her into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met them with hopes +that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet worse than she expected. + +“Indeed I have, sir,” was her answer. “She is a great deal too ill to be +moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass +a little longer on your kindness.” + +“Removed!” cried Bingley. “It must not be thought of. My sister, I am +sure, will not hear of her removal.” + +“You may depend upon it, madam,” said Miss Bingley, with cold civility, +“that Miss Bennet shall receive every possible attention while she +remains with us.” + +Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments. + +“I am sure,” she added, “if it was not for such good friends, I do not +know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a +vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is +always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest +temper I ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to +_her_. You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect +over that gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is +equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I +hope, though you have but a short lease.” + +“Whatever I do is done in a hurry,” replied he; “and therefore if I +should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five +minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.” + +“That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,” said Elizabeth. + +“You begin to comprehend me, do you?” cried he, turning towards her. + +“Oh yes--I understand you perfectly.” + +“I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen +through, I am afraid, is pitiful.” + +“That is as it happens. It does not necessarily follow that a deep, +intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.” + +“Lizzy,” cried her mother, “remember where you are, and do not run on in +the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.” + +“I did not know before,” continued Bingley, immediately, “that you were +a studier of character. It must be an amusing study.” + +“Yes; but intricate characters are the _most_ amusing. They have at +least that advantage.” + +“The country,” said Darcy, “can in general supply but few subjects for +such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and +unvarying society.” + +“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be +observed in them for ever.” + +“Yes, indeed,” cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a +country neighbourhood. “I assure you there is quite as much of _that_ +going on in the country as in town.” + +Everybody was surprised; and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, +turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete +victory over him, continued her triumph,-- + +“I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for +my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal +pleasanter, is not it, Mr. Bingley?” + +“When I am in the country,” he replied, “I never wish to leave it; and +when I am in town, it is pretty much the same. They have each their +advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.” + +“Ay, that is because you have the right disposition. But that +gentleman,” looking at Darcy, “seemed to think the country was nothing +at all.” + +“Indeed, mamma, you are mistaken,” said Elizabeth, blushing for her +mother. “You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there was not +such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in town, which +you must acknowledge to be true.” + +“Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with +many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few +neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families.” + +Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his +countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her eye towards +Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile. Elizabeth, for the sake of +saying something that might turn her mother’s thoughts, now asked her if +Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since _her_ coming away. + +“Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir +William is, Mr. Bingley--is not he? so much the man of fashion! so +genteel and so easy! He has always something to say to everybody. _That_ +is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very +important and never open their mouths quite mistake the matter.” + +“Did Charlotte dine with you?” + +“No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince-pies. For +my part, Mr. Bingley, _I_ always keep servants that can do their own +work; _my_ daughters are brought up differently. But everybody is to +judge for themselves, and the Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I +assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that _I_ think +Charlotte so _very_ plain; but then she is our particular friend.” + +“She seems a very pleasant young woman,” said Bingley. + +“Oh dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself +has often said so, and envied me Jane’s beauty. I do not like to boast +of my own child; but to be sure, Jane--one does not often see anybody +better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own +partiality. When she was only fifteen there was a gentleman at my +brother Gardiner’s in town so much in love with her, that my +sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. +But, however, he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he +wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were.” + +“And so ended his affection,” said Elizabeth, impatiently. “There has +been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first +discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!” + +“I have been used to consider poetry as the _food_ of love,” said Darcy. + +“Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is +strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I +am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.” + +Darcy only smiled; and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth +tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to +speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs. +Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to +Jane, with an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was +unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be +civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part, +indeed, without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and +soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of +her daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to +each other during the whole visit; and the result of it was, that the +youngest should tax Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming +into the country to give a ball at Netherfield. + +Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion +and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose +affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high +animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the +attentions of the officers, to whom her uncle’s good dinners and her +own easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was +very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the +ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be +the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer +to this sudden attack was delightful to her mother’s ear. + +“I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and, when +your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of +the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing while she is ill?” + +Lydia declared herself satisfied. “Oh yes--it would be much better to +wait till Jane was well; and by that time, most likely, Captain Carter +would be at Meryton again. And when you have given _your_ ball,” she +added, “I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel +Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.” + +Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned +instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations’ behaviour to the +remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the latter of whom, however, +could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of _her_, in spite of +all Miss Bingley’s witticisms on _fine eyes_. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +[Illustration] + +The day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst and Miss +Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who +continued, though slowly, to mend; and, in the evening, Elizabeth joined +their party in the drawing-room. The loo table, however, did not appear. +Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching +the progress of his letter, and repeatedly calling off his attention by +messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and +Mrs. Hurst was observing their game. + +Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in +attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual +commendations of the lady either on his hand-writing, or on the evenness +of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern +with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was +exactly in unison with her opinion of each. + +“How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!” + +He made no answer. + +“You write uncommonly fast.” + +“You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.” + +“How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a +year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!” + +“It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours.” + +“Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.” + +“I have already told her so once, by your desire.” + +“I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend +pens remarkably well.” + +“Thank you--but I always mend my own.” + +“How can you contrive to write so even?” + +He was silent. + +“Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp, +and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful +little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss +Grantley’s.” + +“Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At +present I have not room to do them justice.” + +“Oh, it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you +always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?” + +“They are generally long; but whether always charming, it is not for me +to determine.” + +“It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with +ease cannot write ill.” + +“That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline,” cried her +brother, “because he does _not_ write with ease. He studies too much +for words of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?” + +“My style of writing is very different from yours.” + +“Oh,” cried Miss Bingley, “Charles writes in the most careless way +imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest.” + +“My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them; by which +means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents.” + +“Your humility, Mr. Bingley,” said Elizabeth, “must disarm reproof.” + +“Nothing is more deceitful,” said Darcy, “than the appearance of +humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an +indirect boast.” + +“And which of the two do you call _my_ little recent piece of modesty?” + +“The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in +writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of +thought and carelessness of execution, which, if not estimable, you +think at least highly interesting. The power of doing anything with +quickness is always much prized by the possessor, and often without any +attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs. +Bennet this morning, that if you ever resolved on quitting Netherfield +you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of +panegyric, of compliment to yourself; and yet what is there so very +laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business +undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or anyone else?” + +“Nay,” cried Bingley, “this is too much, to remember at night all the +foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon my honour, I +believed what I said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this +moment. At least, therefore, I did not assume the character of needless +precipitance merely to show off before the ladies.” + +“I daresay you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you +would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as +dependent on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were +mounting your horse, a friend were to say, ‘Bingley, you had better stay +till next week,’ you would probably do it--you would probably not +go--and, at another word, might stay a month.” + +“You have only proved by this,” cried Elizabeth, “that Mr. Bingley did +not do justice to his own disposition. You have shown him off now much +more than he did himself.” + +“I am exceedingly gratified,” said Bingley, “by your converting what my +friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am +afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means +intend; for he would certainly think the better of me if, under such a +circumstance, I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I +could.” + +“Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intention +as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?” + +“Upon my word, I cannot exactly explain the matter--Darcy must speak for +himself.” + +“You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to call mine, +but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to +stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet, +that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and +the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering +one argument in favour of its propriety.” + +“To yield readily--easily--to the _persuasion_ of a friend is no merit +with you.” + +“To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of +either.” + +“You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of +friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make +one readily yield to a request, without waiting for arguments to reason +one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have +supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the +circumstance occurs, before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour +thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases, between friend and friend, +where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no +very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying +with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?” + +“Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange +with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to +appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting +between the parties?” + +“By all means,” cried Bingley; “let us hear all the particulars, not +forgetting their comparative height and size, for that will have more +weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure +you that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with +myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not +know a more awful object than Darcy on particular occasions, and in +particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, +when he has nothing to do.” + +Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was +rather offended, and therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly +resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her +brother for talking such nonsense. + +“I see your design, Bingley,” said his friend. “You dislike an argument, +and want to silence this.” + +“Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss +Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very +thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me.” + +“What you ask,” said Elizabeth, “is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr. +Darcy had much better finish his letter.” + +Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter. + +When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth +for the indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with alacrity to +the pianoforte, and after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the +way, which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she +seated herself. + +Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister; and while they were thus employed, +Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music-books +that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Darcy’s eyes were fixed +on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of +admiration to so great a man, and yet that he should look at her because +he disliked her was still more strange. She could only imagine, however, +at last, that she drew his notice because there was something about her +more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in +any other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked +him too little to care for his approbation. + +After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a +lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near +Elizabeth, said to her,-- + +“Do you not feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an +opportunity of dancing a reel?” + +She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some +surprise at her silence. + +“Oh,” said she, “I heard you before; but I could not immediately +determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say ‘Yes,’ +that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always +delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of +their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell +you that I do not want to dance a reel at all; and now despise me if you +dare.” + +“Indeed I do not dare.” + +Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his +gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her +manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody, and Darcy had +never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really +believed that, were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he +should be in some danger. + +Miss Bingley saw, or suspected, enough to be jealous; and her great +anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some +assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth. + +She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by talking of +their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance. + +“I hope,” said she, as they were walking together in the shrubbery the +next day, “you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this +desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; +and if you can compass it, to cure the younger girls of running after +the officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to +check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, +which your lady possesses.” + +[Illustration: + + “No, no; stay where you are” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +“Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?” + +“Oh yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Philips be placed +in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the +judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different +lines. As for your Elizabeth’s picture, you must not attempt to have it +taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?” + +“It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression; but their +colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be +copied.” + +At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst and +Elizabeth herself. + +“I did not know that you intended to walk,” said Miss Bingley, in some +confusion, lest they had been overheard. + +“You used us abominably ill,” answered Mrs. Hurst, “running away without +telling us that you were coming out.” + +Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk +by herself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt their rudeness, +and immediately said,-- + +“This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the +avenue.” + +But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them, +laughingly answered,-- + +“No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to +uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a +fourth. Good-bye.” + +She then ran gaily off, rejoicing, as she rambled about, in the hope of +being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already so much recovered +as to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours that evening. + + + + +[Illustration: + + “Piling up the fire” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +[Illustration] + +When the ladies removed after dinner Elizabeth ran up to her sister, and +seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into the drawing-room, +where she was welcomed by her two friends with many professions of +pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable as they were +during the hour which passed before the gentlemen appeared. Their powers +of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment +with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their +acquaintance with spirit. + +But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object; +Miss Bingley’s eyes were instantly turned towards Darcy, and she had +something to say to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed +himself directly to Miss Bennet with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst +also made her a slight bow, and said he was “very glad;” but diffuseness +and warmth remained for Bingley’s salutation. He was full of joy and +attention. The first half hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she +should suffer from the change of room; and she removed, at his desire, +to the other side of the fireplace, that she might be farther from the +door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to anyone else. +Elizabeth, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with great +delight. + +When tea was over Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law of the +card-table--but in vain. She had obtained private intelligence that Mr. +Darcy did not wish for cards, and Mr. Hurst soon found even his open +petition rejected. She assured him that no one intended to play, and the +silence of the whole party on the subject seemed to justify her. Mr. +Hurst had, therefore, nothing to do but to stretch himself on one of the +sofas and go to sleep. Darcy took up a book. Miss Bingley did the same; +and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her bracelets and +rings, joined now and then in her brother’s conversation with Miss +Bennet. + +Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. +Darcy’s progress through _his_ book, as in reading her own; and she was +perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She +could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her +question and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be +amused with her own book, which she had only chosen because it was the +second volume of his, she gave a great yawn and said, “How pleasant it +is to spend an evening in this way! I declare, after all, there is no +enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a +book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not +an excellent library.” + +No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her book, and +cast her eyes round the room in quest of some amusement; when, hearing +her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly +towards him and said,-- + +“By the bye Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at +Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult +the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not +some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a +pleasure.” + +“If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he +chooses, before it begins; but as for the ball, it is quite a settled +thing, and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough I shall send +round my cards.” + +“I should like balls infinitely better,” she replied, “if they were +carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably +tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much +more rational if conversation instead of dancing made the order of the +day.” + +“Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say; but it would not be +near so much like a ball.” + +Miss Bingley made no answer, and soon afterwards got up and walked about +the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but Darcy, at +whom it was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious. In the +desperation of her feelings, she resolved on one effort more; and, +turning to Elizabeth, said,-- + +“Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a +turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so +long in one attitude.” + +Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss Bingley +succeeded no less in the real object of her civility: Mr. Darcy looked +up. He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as +Elizabeth herself could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He was +directly invited to join their party, but he declined it, observing that +he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down +the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would +interfere. What could he mean? She was dying to know what could be his +meaning--and asked Elizabeth whether she could at all understand him. + +“Not at all,” was her answer; “but, depend upon it, he means to be +severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask +nothing about it.” + +Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in +anything, and persevered, therefore, in requiring an explanation of his +two motives. + +“I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,” said he, as soon +as she allowed him to speak. “You either choose this method of passing +the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret +affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures +appear to the greatest advantage in walking: if the first, I should be +completely in your way; and if the second, I can admire you much better +as I sit by the fire.” + +“Oh, shocking!” cried Miss Bingley. “I never heard anything so +abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?” + +“Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,” said Elizabeth. “We +can all plague and punish one another. Tease him--laugh at him. Intimate +as you are, you must know how it is to be done.” + +“But upon my honour I do _not_. I do assure you that my intimacy has not +yet taught me _that_. Tease calmness of temper and presence of mind! No, +no; I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose +ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. +Darcy may hug himself.” + +“Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!” cried Elizabeth. “That is an +uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would +be a great loss to _me_ to have many such acquaintance. I dearly love a +laugh.” + +“Miss Bingley,” said he, “has given me credit for more than can be. The +wisest and best of men,--nay, the wisest and best of their actions,--may +be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a +joke.” + +“Certainly,” replied Elizabeth, “there are such people, but I hope I am +not one of _them_. I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies +and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, _do_ divert me, I own, and I +laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what +you are without.” + +“Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of +my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong +understanding to ridicule.” + +“Such as vanity and pride.” + +“Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride--where there is a real +superiority of mind--pride will be always under good regulation.” + +Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile. + +“Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume,” said Miss Bingley; +“and pray what is the result?” + +“I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it +himself without disguise.” + +“No,” said Darcy, “I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, +but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch +for. It is, I believe, too little yielding; certainly too little for the +convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of +others so soon as I ought, nor their offences against myself. My +feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper +would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost for +ever.” + +“_That_ is a failing, indeed!” cried Elizabeth. “Implacable resentment +_is_ a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I +really cannot _laugh_ at it. You are safe from me.” + +“There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular +evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.” + +“And _your_ defect is a propensity to hate everybody.” + +“And yours,” he replied, with a smile, “is wilfully to misunderstand +them.” + +“Do let us have a little music,” cried Miss Bingley, tired of a +conversation in which she had no share. “Louisa, you will not mind my +waking Mr. Hurst.” + +Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was +opened; and Darcy, after a few moments’ recollection, was not sorry for +it. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +[Illustration] + +In consequence of an agreement between the sisters, Elizabeth wrote the +next morning to her mother, to beg that the carriage might be sent for +them in the course of the day. But Mrs. Bennet, who had calculated on +her daughters remaining at Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which +would exactly finish Jane’s week, could not bring herself to receive +them with pleasure before. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at +least not to Elizabeth’s wishes, for she was impatient to get home. Mrs. +Bennet sent them word that they could not possibly have the carriage +before Tuesday; and in her postscript it was added, that if Mr. Bingley +and his sister pressed them to stay longer, she could spare them very +well. Against staying longer, however, Elizabeth was positively +resolved--nor did she much expect it would be asked; and fearful, on the +contrary, of being considered as intruding themselves needlessly long, +she urged Jane to borrow Mr. Bingley’s carriage immediately, and at +length it was settled that their original design of leaving Netherfield +that morning should be mentioned, and the request made. + +The communication excited many professions of concern; and enough was +said of wishing them to stay at least till the following day to work on +Jane; and till the morrow their going was deferred. Miss Bingley was +then sorry that she had proposed the delay; for her jealousy and dislike +of one sister much exceeded her affection for the other. + +The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were to go so +soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade Miss Bennet that it would not be +safe for her--that she was not enough recovered; but Jane was firm where +she felt herself to be right. + +To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence: Elizabeth had been at +Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he liked; and Miss +Bingley was uncivil to _her_ and more teasing than usual to himself. He +wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration +should _now_ escape him--nothing that could elevate her with the hope of +influencing his felicity; sensible that, if such an idea had been +suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material weight +in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely spoke +ten words to her through the whole of Saturday: and though they were at +one time left by themselves for half an hour, he adhered most +conscientiously to his book, and would not even look at her. + +On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable to almost +all, took place. Miss Bingley’s civility to Elizabeth increased at last +very rapidly, as well as her affection for Jane; and when they parted, +after assuring the latter of the pleasure it would always give her to +see her either at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most +tenderly, she even shook hands with the former. Elizabeth took leave of +the whole party in the liveliest spirits. + +They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother. Mrs. Bennet +wondered at their coming, and thought them very wrong to give so much +trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught cold again. But their +father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really +glad to see them; he had felt their importance in the family circle. The +evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its +animation, and almost all its sense, by the absence of Jane and +Elizabeth. + +They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough bass and human +nature; and had some new extracts to admire and some new observations of +threadbare morality to listen to. Catherine and Lydia had information +for them of a different sort. Much had been done, and much had been said +in the regiment since the preceding Wednesday; several of the officers +had dined lately with their uncle; a private had been flogged; and it +had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +[Illustration] + +“I hope, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at +breakfast the next morning, “that you have ordered a good dinner to-day, +because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.” + +“Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, +unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in; and I hope _my_ dinners +are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.” + +“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman and a stranger.” + +Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled. “A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. +Bingley, I am sure. Why, Jane--you never dropped a word of this--you sly +thing! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. +But--good Lord! how unlucky! there is not a bit of fish to be got +to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must speak to Hill this +moment.” + +“It is _not_ Mr. Bingley,” said her husband; “it is a person whom I +never saw in the whole course of my life.” + +This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of being +eagerly questioned by his wife and five daughters at once. + +After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus +explained:--“About a month ago I received this letter, and about a +fortnight ago I answered it; for I thought it a case of some delicacy, +and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, +when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he +pleases.” + +“Oh, my dear,” cried his wife, “I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. +Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing +in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own +children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago +to do something or other about it.” + +Jane and Elizabeth attempted to explain to her the nature of an entail. +They had often attempted it before: but it was a subject on which Mrs. +Bennet was beyond the reach of reason; and she continued to rail +bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of +five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about. + +“It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,” said Mr. Bennet; “and +nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. +But if you will listen to his letter, you may, perhaps, be a little +softened by his manner of expressing himself.” + +“No, that I am sure I shall not: and I think it was very impertinent of +him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false +friends. Why could not he keep on quarrelling with you, as his father +did before him?” + +“Why, indeed, he does seem to have had some filial scruples on that +head, as you will hear.” + + /* RIGHT “Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, _15th October_. */ + +“Dear Sir, + + “The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured + father always gave me much uneasiness; and, since I have had the + misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the + breach: but, for some time, I was kept back by my own doubts, + fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be + on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be + at variance.”--‘There, Mrs. Bennet.’--“My mind, however, is now + made up on the subject; for, having received ordination at Easter, + I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of + the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis + de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the + valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest + endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her + Ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies + which are instituted by the Church of England. As a clergyman, + moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing + of peace in all families within the reach of my influence; and on + these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures of + good-will are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my + being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly + overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered + olive branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the + means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to + apologize for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make + them every possible amends; but of this hereafter. If you should + have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself + the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday, + November 18th, by four o’clock, and shall probably trespass on your + hospitality till the Saturday se’nnight following, which I can do + without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is far from objecting + to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other + clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day. I remain, dear sir, + with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your + well-wisher and friend, + +“WILLIAM COLLINS.” + +“At four o’clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman,” +said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. “He seems to be a most +conscientious and polite young man, upon my word; and, I doubt not, will +prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be so +indulgent as to let him come to us again.” + +“There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however; and, if +he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to +discourage him.” + +“Though it is difficult,” said Jane, “to guess in what way he can mean +to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to his +credit.” + +Elizabeth was chiefly struck with his extraordinary deference for Lady +Catherine, and his kind intention of christening, marrying, and burying +his parishioners whenever it were required. + +“He must be an oddity, I think,” said she. “I cannot make him out. There +is something very pompous in his style. And what can he mean by +apologizing for being next in the entail? We cannot suppose he would +help it, if he could. Can he be a sensible man, sir?” + +“No, my dear; I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the +reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his +letter which promises well. I am impatient to see him.” + +“In point of composition,” said Mary, “his letter does not seem +defective. The idea of the olive branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I +think it is well expressed.” + +To Catherine and Lydia neither the letter nor its writer were in any +degree interesting. It was next to impossible that their cousin should +come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since they had +received pleasure from the society of a man in any other colour. As for +their mother, Mr. Collins’s letter had done away much of her ill-will, +and she was preparing to see him with a degree of composure which +astonished her husband and daughters. + +Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great +politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said little; but the +ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins seemed neither in need +of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall, +heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and +stately, and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated +before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of +daughters, said he had heard much of their beauty, but that, in this +instance, fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that he did not +doubt her seeing them all in due time well disposed of in marriage. This +gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers; but Mrs. +Bennet, who quarrelled with no compliments, answered most readily,-- + +“You are very kind, sir, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may +prove so; for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so +oddly.” + +“You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.” + +“Ah, sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you +must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with _you_, for such things, +I know, are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates +will go when once they come to be entailed.” + +“I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and +could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing +forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come +prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more, but, perhaps, +when we are better acquainted----” + +He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; and the girls smiled on each +other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Collins’s admiration. The +hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture, were examined and praised; +and his commendation of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet’s +heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his +own future property. The dinner, too, in its turn, was highly admired; +and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellence of its +cookery was owing. But here he was set right by Mrs. Bennet, who assured +him, with some asperity, that they were very well able to keep a good +cook, and that her daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen. He begged +pardon for having displeased her. In a softened tone she declared +herself not at all offended; but he continued to apologize for about a +quarter of an hour. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +[Illustration] + +During dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all; but when the servants +were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some conversation with his +guest, and therefore started a subject in which he expected him to +shine, by observing that he seemed very fortunate in his patroness. Lady +Catherine de Bourgh’s attention to his wishes, and consideration for his +comfort, appeared very remarkable. Mr. Bennet could not have chosen +better. Mr. Collins was eloquent in her praise. The subject elevated him +to more than usual solemnity of manner; and with a most important aspect +he protested that he had never in his life witnessed such behaviour in a +person of rank--such affability and condescension, as he had himself +experienced from Lady Catherine. She had been graciously pleased to +approve of both the discourses which he had already had the honour of +preaching before her. She had also asked him twice to dine at Rosings, +and had sent for him only the Saturday before, to make up her pool of +quadrille in the evening. Lady Catherine was reckoned proud by many +people, he knew, but _he_ had never seen anything but affability in her. +She had always spoken to him as she would to any other gentleman; she +made not the smallest objection to his joining in the society of the +neighbourhood, nor to his leaving his parish occasionally for a week or +two to visit his relations. She had even condescended to advise him to +marry as soon as he could, provided he chose with discretion; and had +once paid him a visit in his humble parsonage, where she had perfectly +approved all the alterations he had been making, and had even vouchsafed +to suggest some herself,--some shelves in the closets upstairs. + +“That is all very proper and civil, I am sure,” said Mrs. Bennet, “and I +dare say she is a very agreeable woman. It is a pity that great ladies +in general are not more like her. Does she live near you, sir?” + +“The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only by a lane +from Rosings Park, her Ladyship’s residence.” + +“I think you said she was a widow, sir? has she any family?” + +“She has one only daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very +extensive property.” + +“Ah,” cried Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, “then she is better off than +many girls. And what sort of young lady is she? Is she handsome?” + +“She is a most charming young lady, indeed. Lady Catherine herself says +that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the +handsomest of her sex; because there is that in her features which marks +the young woman of distinguished birth. She is unfortunately of a sickly +constitution, which has prevented her making that progress in many +accomplishments which she could not otherwise have failed of, as I am +informed by the lady who superintended her education, and who still +resides with them. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends +to drive by my humble abode in her little phaeton and ponies.” + +“Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies at +court.” + +“Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town; +and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine myself one day, has deprived +the British Court of its brightest ornament. Her Ladyship seemed pleased +with the idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on every occasion to +offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to +ladies. I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that her +charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess; and that the most +elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, would be adorned by +her. These are the kind of little things which please her Ladyship, and +it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to +pay.” + +“You judge very properly,” said Mr. Bennet; “and it is happy for you +that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask +whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the +moment, or are the result of previous study?” + +“They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time; and though I +sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant +compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to +give them as unstudied an air as possible.” + +Mr. Bennet’s expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd +as he had hoped; and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment, +maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance, +and, except in an occasional glance at Elizabeth, requiring no partner +in his pleasure. + +By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, and Mr. Bennet was glad +to take his guest into the drawing-room again, and when tea was over, +glad to invite him + +[Illustration: + +“Protested +that he never read novels” H.T Feb 94 +] + +to read aloud to the ladies. Mr. Collins readily assented, and a book +was produced; but on beholding it (for everything announced it to be +from a circulating library) he started back, and, begging pardon, +protested that he never read novels. Kitty stared at him, and Lydia +exclaimed. Other books were produced, and after some deliberation he +chose “Fordyce’s Sermons.” Lydia gaped as he opened the volume; and +before he had, with very monotonous solemnity, read three pages, she +interrupted him with,-- + +“Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Philips talks of turning away +Richard? and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My aunt told me +so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton to-morrow to hear more +about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town.” + +Lydia was bid by her two eldest sisters to hold her tongue; but Mr. +Collins, much offended, laid aside his book, and said,-- + +“I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by books +of a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. It amazes +me, I confess; for certainly there can be nothing so advantageous to +them as instruction. But I will no longer importune my young cousin.” + +Then, turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself as his antagonist at +backgammon. Mr. Bennet accepted the challenge, observing that he acted +very wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling amusements. Mrs. +Bennet and her daughters apologized most civilly for Lydia’s +interruption, and promised that it should not occur again, if he would +resume his book; but Mr. Collins, after assuring them that he bore his +young cousin no ill-will, and should never resent her behaviour as any +affront, seated himself at another table with Mr. Bennet, and prepared +for backgammon. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +[Illustration] + +Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had +been but little assisted by education or society; the greatest part of +his life having been spent under the guidance of an illiterate and +miserly father; and though he belonged to one of the universities, he +had merely kept the necessary terms without forming at it any useful +acquaintance. The subjection in which his father had brought him up had +given him originally great humility of manner; but it was now a good +deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head, living in +retirement, and the consequential feelings of early and unexpected +prosperity. A fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Catherine de +Bourgh when the living of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which he +felt for her high rank, and his veneration for her as his patroness, +mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a +clergyman, and his right as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of +pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility. + +Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to +marry; and in seeking a reconciliation with the Longbourn family he had +a wife in view, as he meant to choose one of the daughters, if he found +them as handsome and amiable as they were represented by common report. +This was his plan of amends--of atonement--for inheriting their father’s +estate; and he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility and +suitableness, and excessively generous and disinterested on his own +part. + +His plan did not vary on seeing them. Miss Bennet’s lovely face +confirmed his views, and established all his strictest notions of what +was due to seniority; and for the first evening _she_ was his settled +choice. The next morning, however, made an alteration; for in a quarter +of an hour’s _tête-à-tête_ with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast, a +conversation beginning with his parsonage-house, and leading naturally +to the avowal of his hopes, that a mistress for it might be found at +Longbourn, produced from her, amid very complaisant smiles and general +encouragement, a caution against the very Jane he had fixed on. “As to +her _younger_ daughters, she could not take upon her to say--she could +not positively answer--but she did not _know_ of any prepossession;--her +_eldest_ daughter she must just mention--she felt it incumbent on her to +hint, was likely to be very soon engaged.” + +Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth--and it was soon +done--done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. Elizabeth, equally +next to Jane in birth and beauty, succeeded her of course. + +Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon have +two daughters married; and the man whom she could not bear to speak of +the day before, was now high in her good graces. + +Lydia’s intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten: every sister +except Mary agreed to go with her; and Mr. Collins was to attend them, +at the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most anxious to get rid of him, +and have his library to himself; for thither Mr. Collins had followed +him after breakfast, and there he would continue, nominally engaged with +one of the largest folios in the collection, but really talking to Mr. +Bennet, with little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such +doings discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his library he had been +always sure of leisure and tranquillity; and though prepared, as he told +Elizabeth, to meet with folly and conceit in every other room in the +house, he was used to be free from them there: his civility, therefore, +was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their +walk; and Mr. Collins, being in fact much better fitted for a walker +than a reader, was extremely well pleased to close his large book, and +go. + +In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his +cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton. The attention of +the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by _him_. Their eyes +were immediately wandering up the street in quest of the officers, and +nothing less than a very smart bonnet, indeed, or a really new muslin in +a shop window, could recall them. + +But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom +they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking +with an officer on the other side of the way. The officer was the very +Mr. Denny concerning whose return from London Lydia came to inquire, and +he bowed as they passed. All were struck with the stranger’s air, all +wondered who he could be; and Kitty and Lydia, determined if possible +to find out, led the way across the street, under pretence of wanting +something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the +pavement, when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same +spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and entreated permission to +introduce his friend, Mr. Wickham, who had returned with him the day +before from town, and, he was happy to say, had accepted a commission in +their corps. This was exactly as it should be; for the young man wanted +only regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was +greatly in his favour: he had all the best parts of beauty, a fine +countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction +was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation--a +readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the +whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably, +when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were +seen riding down the street. On distinguishing the ladies of the group +the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual +civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the +principal object. He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn on +purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with a bow, and +was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they +were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger; and Elizabeth +happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, +was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, +one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, +touched his hat--a salutation which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return. +What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was +impossible not to long to know. + +In another minute Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have noticed what +passed, took leave and rode on with his friend. + +Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door of +Mr. Philips’s house, and then made their bows, in spite of Miss Lydia’s +pressing entreaties that they would come in, and even in spite of Mrs. +Philips’s throwing up the parlour window, and loudly seconding the +invitation. + +Mrs. Philips was always glad to see her nieces; and the two eldest, from +their recent absence, were particularly welcome; and she was eagerly +expressing her surprise at their sudden return home, which, as their own +carriage had not fetched them, she should have known nothing about, if +she had not happened to see Mr. Jones’s shopboy in the street, who had +told her that they were not to send any more draughts to Netherfield, +because the Miss Bennets were come away, when her civility was claimed +towards Mr. Collins by Jane’s introduction of him. She received him with +her very best politeness, which he returned with as much more, +apologizing for his intrusion, without any previous acquaintance with +her, which he could not help flattering himself, however, might be +justified by his relationship to the young ladies who introduced him to +her notice. Mrs. Philips was quite awed by such an excess of good +breeding; but her contemplation of one stranger was soon put an end to +by exclamations and inquiries about the other, of whom, however, she +could only tell her nieces what they already knew, that Mr. Denny had +brought him from London, and that he was to have a lieutenant’s +commission in the ----shire. She had been watching him the last hour, +she said, as he walked up and down the street,--and had Mr. Wickham +appeared, Kitty and Lydia would certainly have continued the occupation; +but unluckily no one passed the windows now except a few of the +officers, who, in comparison with the stranger, were become “stupid, +disagreeable fellows.” Some of them were to dine with the Philipses the +next day, and their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr. +Wickham, and give him an invitation also, if the family from Longbourn +would come in the evening. This was agreed to; and Mrs. Philips +protested that they would have a nice comfortable noisy game of lottery +tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards. The prospect of such +delights was very cheering, and they parted in mutual good spirits. Mr. +Collins repeated his apologies in quitting the room, and was assured, +with unwearying civility, that they were perfectly needless. + +As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what she had seen pass +between the two gentlemen; but though Jane would have defended either or +both, had they appeared to be wrong, she could no more explain such +behaviour than her sister. + +Mr. Collins on his return highly gratified Mrs. Bennet by admiring Mrs. +Philips’s manners and politeness. He protested that, except Lady +Catherine and her daughter, he had never seen a more elegant woman; for +she had not only received him with the utmost civility, but had even +pointedly included him in her invitation for the next evening, although +utterly unknown to her before. Something, he supposed, might be +attributed to his connection with them, but yet he had never met with so +much attention in the whole course of his life. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +[Illustration] + +As no objection was made to the young people’s engagement with their +aunt, and all Mr. Collins’s scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for +a single evening during his visit were most steadily resisted, the coach +conveyed him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton; and the +girls had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawing-room, +that Mr. Wickham had accepted their uncle’s invitation, and was then in +the house. + +When this information was given, and they had all taken their seats, Mr. +Collins was at leisure to look around him and admire, and he was so much +struck with the size and furniture of the apartment, that he declared he +might almost have supposed himself in the small summer breakfast parlour +at Rosings; a comparison that did not at first convey much +gratification; but when Mrs. Philips understood from him what Rosings +was, and who was its proprietor, when she had listened to the +description of only one of Lady Catherine’s drawing-rooms, and found +that the chimney-piece alone had cost eight hundred pounds, she felt all +the force of the compliment, and would hardly have resented a comparison +with the housekeeper’s room. + +In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion, +with occasional digressions in praise of his own humble abode, and the +improvements it was receiving, he was happily employed until the +gentlemen joined them; and he found in Mrs. Philips a very attentive +listener, whose opinion of his consequence increased with what she +heard, and who was resolving to retail it all among her neighbours as +soon as she could. To the girls, who could not listen to their cousin, +and who had nothing to do but to wish for an instrument, and examine +their own indifferent imitations of china on the mantel-piece, the +interval of waiting appeared very long. It was over at last, however. +The gentlemen did approach: and when Mr. Wickham walked into the room, +Elizabeth felt that she had neither been seeing him before, nor thinking +of him since, with the smallest degree of unreasonable admiration. The +officers of the ----shire were in general a very creditable, +gentlemanlike set and the best of them were of the present party; but +Mr, Wickham was as far beyond them all in person, countenance, air, and +walk, as _they_ were superior to the broad-faced stuffy uncle Philips, +breathing port wine, who followed them into the room. + +[Illustration: + +“The officers of the ----shire” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was +turned, and Elizabeth was the happy woman by whom he finally seated +himself; and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into +conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, and on the +probability of a rainy season, made her feel that the commonest, +dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the +skill of the speaker. + +With such rivals for the notice of the fair as Mr. Wickham and the +officers, Mr. Collins seemed to sink into insignificance; to the young +ladies he certainly was nothing; but he had still at intervals a kind +listener in Mrs. Philips, and was, by her watchfulness, most abundantly +supplied with coffee and muffin. + +When the card tables were placed, he had an opportunity of obliging her, +in return, by sitting down to whist. + +“I know little of the game at present,” said he, “but I shall be glad to +improve myself; for in my situation of life----” Mrs. Philips was very +thankful for his compliance, but could not wait for his reason. + +Mr. Wickham did not play at whist, and with ready delight was he +received at the other table between Elizabeth and Lydia. At first there +seemed danger of Lydia’s engrossing him entirely, for she was a most +determined talker; but being likewise extremely fond of lottery tickets, +she soon grew too much interested in the game, too eager in making bets +and exclaiming after prizes, to have attention for anyone in particular. +Allowing for the common demands of the game, Mr. Wickham was therefore +at leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him, +though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told, +the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not even +mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly +relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself. He inquired how far +Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in +a hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there. + +“About a month,” said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the subject +drop, added, “he is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I +understand.” + +“Yes,” replied Wickham; “his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten +thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of +giving you certain information on that head than myself--for I have been +connected with his family, in a particular manner, from my infancy.” + +Elizabeth could not but look surprised. + +“You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after +seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting +yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?” + +“As much as I ever wish to be,” cried Elizabeth, warmly. “I have spent +four days in the same house with him, and I think him very +disagreeable.” + +“I have no right to give _my_ opinion,” said Wickham, “as to his being +agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him +too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for _me_ to +be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general +astonish--and, perhaps, you would not express it quite so strongly +anywhere else. Here you are in your own family.” + +“Upon my word I say no more _here_ than I might say in any house in the +neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in +Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride. You will not find +him more favourably spoken of by anyone.” + +“I cannot pretend to be sorry,” said Wickham, after a short +interruption, “that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond +their deserts; but with _him_ I believe it does not often happen. The +world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his +high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen.” + +“I should take him, even on _my_ slight acquaintance, to be an +ill-tempered man.” + +Wickham only shook his head. + +“I wonder,” said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, “whether he is +likely to be in this country much longer.” + +“I do not at all know; but I _heard_ nothing of his going away when I +was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the ----shire will +not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.” + +“Oh no--it is not for _me_ to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If _he_ +wishes to avoid seeing _me_ he must go. We are not on friendly terms, +and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for +avoiding _him_ but what I might proclaim to all the world--a sense of +very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is. +His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men +that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be +in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a +thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been +scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and +everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the +memory of his father.” + +Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with +all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry. + +Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the +neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he +had yet seen, and speaking of the latter, especially, with gentle but +very intelligible gallantry. + +“It was the prospect of constant society, and good society,” he added, +“which was my chief inducement to enter the ----shire. I know it to be a +most respectable, agreeable corps; and my friend Denny tempted me +further by his account of their present quarters, and the very great +attentions and excellent acquaintance Meryton had procured them. +Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and +my spirits will not bear solitude. I _must_ have employment and society. +A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have +now made it eligible. The church _ought_ to have been my profession--I +was brought up for the church; and I should at this time have been in +possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we +were speaking of just now.” + +“Indeed!” + +“Yes--the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best +living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. +I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, +and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given +elsewhere.” + +“Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth; “but how could _that_ be? How could his +will be disregarded? Why did not you seek legal redress?” + +“There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to +give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the +intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it--or to treat it as a merely +conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim +to it by extravagance, imprudence, in short, anything or nothing. +Certain it is that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I +was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no +less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done +anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm unguarded temper, and I +may perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion _of_ him, and _to_ him, too +freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very +different sort of men, and that he hates me.” + +“This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.” + +“Some time or other he _will_ be--but it shall not be by _me_. Till I +can forget his father, I can never defy or expose _him_.” + +Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings, and thought him handsomer than +ever as he expressed them. + +“But what,” said she, after a pause, “can have been his motive? what can +have induced him to behave so cruelly?” + +“A thorough, determined dislike of me--a dislike which I cannot but +attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Darcy liked me +less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father’s uncommon +attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had +not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood--the sort +of preference which was often given me.” + +“I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this--though I have never liked +him, I had not thought so very ill of him--I had supposed him to be +despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of +descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as +this!” + +After a few minutes’ reflection, however, she continued, “I _do_ +remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of the implacability of +his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper. His disposition +must be dreadful.” + +“I will not trust myself on the subject,” replied Wickham; “_I_ can +hardly be just to him.” + +Elizabeth was again deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed, “To +treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite of his +father!” She could have added, “A young man, too, like _you_, whose very +countenance may vouch for your being amiable.” But she contented herself +with--“And one, too, who had probably been his own companion from +childhood, connected together, as I think you said, in the closest +manner.” + +“We were born in the same parish, within the same park; the greatest +part of our youth was passed together: inmates of the same house, +sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. _My_ +father began life in the profession which your uncle, Mr. Philips, +appears to do so much credit to; but he gave up everything to be of use +to the late Mr. Darcy, and devoted all his time to the care of the +Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most +intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Darcy often acknowledged himself to +be under the greatest obligations to my father’s active superintendence; +and when, immediately before my father’s death, Mr. Darcy gave him a +voluntary promise of providing for me, I am convinced that he felt it +to be as much a debt of gratitude to _him_ as of affection to myself.” + +“How strange!” cried Elizabeth. “How abominable! I wonder that the very +pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you. If from no better +motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest,--for +dishonesty I must call it.” + +“It _is_ wonderful,” replied Wickham; “for almost all his actions may be +traced to pride; and pride has often been his best friend. It has +connected him nearer with virtue than any other feeling. But we are none +of us consistent; and in his behaviour to me there were stronger +impulses even than pride.” + +“Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?” + +“Yes; it has often led him to be liberal and generous; to give his money +freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the +poor. Family pride, and _filial_ pride, for he is very proud of what his +father was, have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to +degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the +Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also _brotherly_ pride, +which, with _some_ brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and +careful guardian of his sister; and you will hear him generally cried up +as the most attentive and best of brothers.” + +“What sort of a girl is Miss Darcy?” + +He shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to +speak ill of a Darcy; but she is too much like her brother,--very, very +proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond +of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is +nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, +and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father’s death her +home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her +education.” + +After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth could not +help reverting once more to the first, and saying,-- + +“I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley. How can Mr. Bingley, +who seems good-humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable, +be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you +know Mr. Bingley?” + +“Not at all.” + +“He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. +Darcy is.” + +“Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not +want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth +his while. Among those who are at all his equals in consequence, he is a +very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride +never deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just, +sincere, rational, honourable, and, perhaps, agreeable,--allowing +something for fortune and figure.” + +The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the players gathered round +the other table, and Mr. Collins took his station between his cousin +Elizabeth and Mrs. Philips. The usual inquiries as to his success were +made by the latter. It had not been very great; he had lost every point; +but when Mrs. Philips began to express her concern thereupon, he assured +her, with much earnest gravity, that it was not of the least importance; +that he considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged she would not +make herself uneasy. + +“I know very well, madam,” said he, “that when persons sit down to a +card table they must take their chance of these things,--and happily I +am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There +are, undoubtedly, many who could not say the same; but, thanks to Lady +Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding +little matters.” + +Mr. Wickham’s attention was caught; and after observing Mr. Collins for +a few moments, he asked Elizabeth in a low voice whether her relations +were very intimately acquainted with the family of De Bourgh. + +“Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” she replied, “has very lately given him a +living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her +notice, but he certainly has not known her long.” + +“You know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy +were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy.” + +“No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine’s +connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before +yesterday.” + +“Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and it is +believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.” + +This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor Miss +Bingley. Vain indeed must be all her attentions, vain and useless her +affection for his sister and her praise of himself, if he were already +self-destined to another. + +“Mr. Collins,” said she, “speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her +daughter; but, from some particulars that he has related of her +Ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him; and that, in spite of +her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman.” + +“I believe her to be both in a great degree,” replied Wickham; “I have +not seen her for many years; but I very well remember that I never liked +her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She has the +reputation of being remarkably sensible and clever; but I rather believe +she derives part of her abilities from her rank and fortune, part from +her authoritative manner, and the rest from the pride of her nephew, who +chooses that everyone connected with him should have an understanding of +the first class.” + +Elizabeth allowed that he had given a very rational account of it, and +they continued talking together with mutual satisfaction till supper put +an end to cards, and gave the rest of the ladies their share of Mr. +Wickham’s attentions. There could be no conversation in the noise of +Mrs. Philips’s supper party, but his manners recommended him to +everybody. Whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done +gracefully. Elizabeth went away with her head full of him. She could +think of nothing but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all +the way home; but there was not time for her even to mention his name as +they went, for neither Lydia nor Mr. Collins were once silent. Lydia +talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had lost and the +fish she had won; and Mr. Collins, in describing the civility of Mr. and +Mrs. Philips, protesting that he did not in the least regard his losses +at whist, enumerating all the dishes at supper, and repeatedly fearing +that he crowded his cousins, had more to say than he could well manage +before the carriage stopped at Longbourn House. + + + + +[Illustration: + + “delighted to see their dear friend again” +] + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +[Illustration] + +Elizabeth related to Jane, the next day, what had passed between Mr. +Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern: she +knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr. +Bingley’s regard; and yet it was not in her nature to question the +veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. The +possibility of his having really endured such unkindness was enough to +interest all her tender feelings; and nothing therefore remained to be +done but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each, and +throw into the account of accident or mistake whatever could not be +otherwise explained. + +“They have both,” said she, “been deceived, I dare say, in some way or +other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps +misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to +conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, +without actual blame on either side.” + +“Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, what have you got to say in +behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the +business? Do clear _them_, too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of +somebody.” + +“Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my +opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light +it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father’s favourite in such a +manner,--one whom his father had promised to provide for. It is +impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his +character, could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so +excessively deceived in him? Oh no.” + +“I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley’s being imposed on than that +Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last +night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not +so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks.” + +“It is difficult, indeed--it is distressing. One does not know what to +think.” + +“I beg your pardon;--one knows exactly what to think.” + +But Jane could think with certainty on only one point,--that Mr. +Bingley, if he _had been_ imposed on, would have much to suffer when +the affair became public. + +The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery, where this +conversation passed, by the arrival of some of the very persons of whom +they had been speaking; Mr. Bingley and his sisters came to give their +personal invitation for the long expected ball at Netherfield, which was +fixed for the following Tuesday. The two ladies were delighted to see +their dear friend again, called it an age since they had met, and +repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since their +separation. To the rest of the family they paid little attention; +avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying not much to Elizabeth, +and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone again, rising from +their seats with an activity which took their brother by surprise, and +hurrying off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet’s civilities. + +The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every +female of the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as given in +compliment to her eldest daughter, and was particularly flattered by +receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself, instead of a +ceremonious card. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the +society of her two friends, and the attentions of their brother; and +Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing a great deal with Mr. +Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Mr. Darcy’s look +and behaviour. The happiness anticipated by Catherine and Lydia depended +less on any single event, or any particular person; for though they +each, like Elizabeth, meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Wickham, +he was by no means the only partner who could satisfy them, and a ball +was, at any rate, a ball. And even Mary could assure her family that she +had no disinclination for it. + +“While I can have my mornings to myself,” said she, “it is enough. I +think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. +Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who +consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for +everybody.” + +Elizabeth’s spirits were so high on the occasion, that though she did +not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking +him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley’s invitation, and if he +did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening’s +amusement; and she was rather surprised to find that he entertained no +scruple whatever on that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke, +either from the Archbishop or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to +dance. + +“I am by no means of opinion, I assure you,” said he, “that a ball of +this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can +have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing +myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair +cousins in the course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of +soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially; a +preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right +cause, and not to any disrespect for her.” + +Elizabeth felt herself completely taken in. She had fully proposed being +engaged by Wickham for those very dances; and to have Mr. Collins +instead!--her liveliness had been never worse timed. There was no help +for it, however. Mr. Wickham’s happiness and her own was perforce +delayed a little longer, and Mr. Collins’s proposal accepted with as +good a grace as she could. She was not the better pleased with his +gallantry, from the idea it suggested of something more. It now first +struck her, that _she_ was selected from among her sisters as worthy of +being the mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form a +quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more eligible visitors. +The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed his increasing +civilities towards herself, and heard his frequent attempt at a +compliment on her wit and vivacity; and though more astonished than +gratified herself by this effect of her charms, it was not long before +her mother gave her to understand that the probability of their marriage +was exceedingly agreeable to _her_. Elizabeth, however, did not choose +to take the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the +consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins might never make the offer, and, +till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him. + +If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for and talk of, the +younger Miss Bennets would have been in a pitiable state at this time; +for, from the day of the invitation to the day of the ball, there was +such a succession of rain as prevented their walking to Meryton once. No +aunt, no officers, no news could be sought after; the very shoe-roses +for Netherfield were got by proxy. Even Elizabeth might have found some +trial of her patience in weather which totally suspended the improvement +of her acquaintance with Mr. Wickham; and nothing less than a dance on +Tuesday could have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday +endurable to Kitty and Lydia. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +[Illustration] + +Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield, and looked in +vain for Mr. Wickham among the cluster of red coats there assembled, a +doubt of his being present had never occurred to her. The certainty of +meeting him had not been checked by any of those recollections that +might not unreasonably have alarmed her. She had dressed with more than +usual care, and prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all +that remained unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it was not more than +might be won in the course of the evening. But in an instant arose the +dreadful suspicion of his being purposely omitted, for Mr. Darcy’s +pleasure, in the Bingleys’ invitation to the officers; and though this +was not exactly the case, the absolute fact of his absence was +pronounced by his friend Mr. Denny, to whom Lydia eagerly applied, and +who told them that Wickham had been obliged to go to town on business +the day before, and was not yet returned; adding, with a significant +smile,-- + +“I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now, if +he had not wished to avoid a certain gentleman here.” + +This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Lydia, was caught by +Elizabeth; and, as it assured her that Darcy was not less answerable for +Wickham’s absence than if her first surmise had been just, every feeling +of displeasure against the former was so sharpened by immediate +disappointment, that she could hardly reply with tolerable civility to +the polite inquiries which he directly afterwards approached to make. +Attention, forbearance, patience with Darcy, was injury to Wickham. She +was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and turned away +with a degree of ill-humour which she could not wholly surmount even in +speaking to Mr. Bingley, whose blind partiality provoked her. + +But Elizabeth was not formed for ill-humour; and though every prospect +of her own was destroyed for the evening, it could not dwell long on her +spirits; and, having told all her griefs to Charlotte Lucas, whom she +had not seen for a week, she was soon able to make a voluntary +transition to the oddities of her cousin, and to point him out to her +particular notice. The two first dances, however, brought a return of +distress: they were dances of mortification. Mr. Collins, awkward and +solemn, apologizing instead of attending, and often moving wrong +without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery which a +disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. The moment of her +release from him was ecstasy. + +She danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment of talking of +Wickham, and of hearing that he was universally liked. When those dances +were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and was in conversation with +her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy, who took +her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without +knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again +immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of +mind: Charlotte tried to console her. + +“I dare say you will find him very agreeable.” + +“Heaven forbid! _That_ would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find +a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an +evil.” + +When the dancing recommenced, however, and Darcy approached to claim her +hand, Charlotte could not help cautioning her, in a whisper, not to be a +simpleton, and allow her fancy for Wickham to make her appear unpleasant +in the eyes of a man often times his consequence. Elizabeth made no +answer, and took her place in the set, amazed at the dignity to which +she was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Mr. Darcy, and +reading in her neighbours’ looks their equal amazement in beholding it. +They stood for some time without speaking a word; and she began to +imagine that their silence was to last through the two dances, and, at +first, was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it +would be the greater punishment to her partner to oblige him to talk, +she made some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again +silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time, +with-- + +“It is _your_ turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. _I_ talked about the +dance, and _you_ ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the +room, or the number of couples.” + +He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be +said. + +“Very well; that reply will do for the present. Perhaps, by-and-by, I +may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones; but +_now_ we may be silent.” + +“Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?” + +“Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be +entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet, for the advantage of +_some_, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have the +trouble of saying as little as possible.” + +“Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you +imagine that you are gratifying mine?” + +“Both,” replied Elizabeth archly; “for I have always seen a great +similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, +taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say +something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to +posterity with all the _éclat_ of a proverb.” + +“This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,” +said he. “How near it may be to _mine_, I cannot pretend to say. _You_ +think it a faithful portrait, undoubtedly.” + +“I must not decide on my own performance.” + +He made no answer; and they were again silent till they had gone down +the dance, when he asked her if she and her sisters did not very often +walk to Meryton. She answered in the affirmative; and, unable to resist +the temptation, added, “When you met us there the other day, we had just +been forming a new acquaintance.” + +The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of _hauteur_ overspread his +features, but he said not a word; and Elizabeth, though blaming herself +for her own weakness, could not go on. At length Darcy spoke, and in a +constrained manner said,-- + +“Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may insure his +_making_ friends; whether he may be equally capable of _retaining_ them, +is less certain.” + +“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” replied Elizabeth, +with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all +his life.” + +Darcy made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the subject. At +that moment Sir William Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to pass +through the set to the other side of the room; but, on perceiving Mr. +Darcy, he stopped, with a bow of superior courtesy, to compliment him on +his dancing and his partner. + +“I have been most highly gratified, indeed, my dear sir; such very +superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the +first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not +disgrace you: and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, +especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss Eliza (glancing +at her sister and Bingley), shall take place. What congratulations will +then flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy;--but let me not interrupt you, sir. +You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of +that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.” + +[Illustration: + +“Such very superior dancing is not +often seen.” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy; but Sir +William’s allusion to his friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and his +eyes were directed, with a very serious expression, towards Bingley and +Jane, who were dancing together. Recovering himself, however, shortly, +he turned to his partner, and said,-- + +“Sir William’s interruption has made me forget what we were talking +of.” + +“I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have +interrupted any two people in the room who had less to say for +themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success, +and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine.” + +“What think you of books?” said he, smiling. + +“Books--oh no!--I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same +feelings.” + +“I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be +no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions.” + +“No--I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full of +something else.” + +“The _present_ always occupies you in such scenes--does it?” said he, +with a look of doubt. + +“Yes, always,” she replied, without knowing what she said; for her +thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon afterwards appeared +by her suddenly exclaiming, “I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, +that you hardly ever forgave;--that your resentment, once created, was +unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its _being +created_?” + +“I am,” said he, with a firm voice. + +“And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?” + +“I hope not.” + +“It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, +to be secure of judging properly at first.” + +“May I ask to what these questions tend?” + +“Merely to the illustration of _your_ character,” said she, endeavouring +to shake off her gravity. “I am trying to make it out.” + +“And what is your success?” + +She shook her head. “I do not get on at all. I hear such different +accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.” + +“I can readily believe,” answered he, gravely, “that reports may vary +greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were +not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to +fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.” + +“But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another +opportunity.” + +“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” he coldly replied. +She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in +silence; on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree; for +in Darcy’s breast there was a tolerably powerful feeling towards her, +which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against +another. + +They had not long separated when Miss Bingley came towards her, and, +with an expression of civil disdain, thus accosted her,-- + +“So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with George Wickham? +Your sister has been talking to me about him, and asking me a thousand +questions; and I find that the young man forgot to tell you, among his +other communications, that he was the son of old Wickham, the late Mr. +Darcy’s steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to give +implicit confidence to all his assertions; for, as to Mr. Darcy’s using +him ill, it is perfectly false: for, on the contrary, he has been always +remarkably kind to him, though George Wickham has treated Mr. Darcy in a +most infamous manner. I do not know the particulars, but I know very +well that Mr. Darcy is not in the least to blame; that he cannot bear +to hear George Wickham mentioned; and that though my brother thought he +could not well avoid including him in his invitation to the officers, he +was excessively glad to find that he had taken himself out of the way. +His coming into the country at all is a most insolent thing, indeed, and +I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you, Miss Eliza, for this +discovery of your favourite’s guilt; but really, considering his +descent, one could not expect much better.” + +“His guilt and his descent appear, by your account, to be the same,” +said Elizabeth, angrily; “for I have heard you accuse him of nothing +worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy’s steward, and of _that_, I can +assure you, he informed me himself.” + +“I beg your pardon,” replied Miss Bingley, turning away with a sneer. +“Excuse my interference; it was kindly meant.” + +“Insolent girl!” said Elizabeth to herself. “You are much mistaken if +you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack as this. I see +nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr. +Darcy.” She then sought her eldest sister, who had undertaken to make +inquiries on the same subject of Bingley. Jane met her with a smile of +such sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as sufficiently +marked how well she was satisfied with the occurrences of the evening. +Elizabeth instantly read her feelings; and, at that moment, solicitude +for Wickham, resentment against his enemies, and everything else, gave +way before the hope of Jane’s being in the fairest way for happiness. + +“I want to know,” said she, with a countenance no less smiling than her +sister’s, “what you have learnt about Mr. Wickham. But perhaps you have +been too pleasantly engaged to think of any third person, in which case +you may be sure of my pardon.” + +“No,” replied Jane, “I have not forgotten him; but I have nothing +satisfactory to tell you. Mr. Bingley does not know the whole of his +history, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have +principally offended Mr. Darcy; but he will vouch for the good conduct, +the probity and honour, of his friend, and is perfectly convinced that +Mr. Wickham has deserved much less attention from Mr. Darcy than he has +received; and I am sorry to say that by his account, as well as his +sister’s, Mr. Wickham is by no means a respectable young man. I am +afraid he has been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr. Darcy’s +regard.” + +“Mr. Bingley does not know Mr. Wickham himself.” + +“No; he never saw him till the other morning at Meryton.” + +“This account then is what he has received from Mr. Darcy. I am +perfectly satisfied. But what does he say of the living?” + +“He does not exactly recollect the circumstances, though he has heard +them from Mr. Darcy more than once, but he believes that it was left to +him _conditionally_ only.” + +“I have not a doubt of Mr. Bingley’s sincerity,” said Elizabeth warmly, +“but you must excuse my not being convinced by assurances only. Mr. +Bingley’s defence of his friend was a very able one, I dare say; but +since he is unacquainted with several parts of the story, and has learnt +the rest from that friend himself, I shall venture still to think of +both gentlemen as I did before.” + +She then changed the discourse to one more gratifying to each, and on +which there could be no difference of sentiment. Elizabeth listened with +delight to the happy though modest hopes which Jane entertained of +Bingley’s regard, and said all in her power to heighten her confidence +in it. On their being joined by Mr. Bingley himself, Elizabeth withdrew +to Miss Lucas; to whose inquiry after the pleasantness of her last +partner she had scarcely replied, before Mr. Collins came up to them, +and told her with great exultation, that he had just been so fortunate +as to make a most important discovery. + +“I have found out,” said he, “by a singular accident, that there is now +in the room a near relation to my patroness. I happened to overhear the +gentleman himself mentioning to the young lady who does the honours of +this house the names of his cousin Miss De Bourgh, and of her mother, +Lady Catherine. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! Who would +have thought of my meeting with--perhaps--a nephew of Lady Catherine de +Bourgh in this assembly! I am most thankful that the discovery is made +in time for me to pay my respects to him, which I am now going to do, +and trust he will excuse my not having done it before. My total +ignorance of the connection must plead my apology.” + +“You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy?” + +“Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier. +I believe him to be Lady Catherine’s _nephew_. It will be in my power to +assure him that her Ladyship was quite well yesterday se’nnight.” + +Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme; assuring him +that Mr. Darcy would consider his addressing him without introduction as +an impertinent freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; that it +was not in the least necessary there should be any notice on either +side, and that if it were, it must belong to Mr. Darcy, the superior in +consequence, to begin the acquaintance. Mr. Collins listened to her with +the determined air of following his own inclination, and when she ceased +speaking, replied thus,-- + +“My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world of your +excellent judgment in all matters within the scope of your +understanding, but permit me to say that there must be a wide difference +between the established forms of ceremony amongst the laity and those +which regulate the clergy; for, give me leave to observe that I consider +the clerical office as equal in point of dignity with the highest rank +in the kingdom--provided that a proper humility of behaviour is at the +same time maintained. You must, therefore, allow me to follow the +dictates of my conscience on this occasion, which lead me to perform +what I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to profit by +your advice, which on every other subject shall be my constant guide, +though in the case before us I consider myself more fitted by education +and habitual study to decide on what is right than a young lady like +yourself;” and with a low bow he left her to attack Mr. Darcy, whose +reception of his advances she eagerly watched, and whose astonishment at +being so addressed was very evident. Her cousin prefaced his speech with +a solemn bow, and though she could not hear a word of it, she felt as if +hearing it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the words “apology,” +“Hunsford,” and “Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” It vexed her to see him +expose himself to such a man. Mr. Darcy was eyeing him with +unrestrained wonder; and when at last Mr. Collins allowed him to speak, +replied with an air of distant civility. Mr. Collins, however, was not +discouraged from speaking again, and Mr. Darcy’s contempt seemed +abundantly increasing with the length of his second speech; and at the +end of it he only made him a slight bow, and moved another way: Mr. +Collins then returned to Elizabeth. + +“I have no reason, I assure you,” said he, “to be dissatisfied with my +reception. Mr. Darcy seemed much pleased with the attention. He answered +me with the utmost civility, and even paid me the compliment of saying, +that he was so well convinced of Lady Catherine’s discernment as to be +certain she could never bestow a favour unworthily. It was really a very +handsome thought. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him.” + +As Elizabeth had no longer any interest of her own to pursue, she turned +her attention almost entirely on her sister and Mr. Bingley; and the +train of agreeable reflections which her observations gave birth to made +her perhaps almost as happy as Jane. She saw her in idea settled in that +very house, in all the felicity which a marriage of true affection could +bestow; and she felt capable, under such circumstances, of endeavouring +even to like Bingley’s two sisters. Her mother’s thoughts she plainly +saw were bent the same way, and she determined not to venture near her, +lest she might hear too much. When they sat down to supper, therefore, +she considered it a most unlucky perverseness which placed them within +one of each other; and deeply was she vexed to find that her mother was +talking to that one person (Lady Lucas) freely, openly, and of nothing +else but of her expectation that Jane would be soon married to Mr. +Bingley. It was an animating subject, and Mrs. Bennet seemed incapable +of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. His being such +a charming young man, and so rich, and living but three miles from them, +were the first points of self-gratulation; and then it was such a +comfort to think how fond the two sisters were of Jane, and to be +certain that they must desire the connection as much as she could do. It +was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger daughters, as +Jane’s marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men; +and, lastly, it was so pleasant at her time of life to be able to +consign her single daughters to the care of their sister, that she might +not be obliged to go into company more than she liked. It was necessary +to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure, because on such +occasions it is the etiquette; but no one was less likely than Mrs. +Bennet to find comfort in staying at home at any period of her life. She +concluded with many good wishes that Lady Lucas might soon be equally +fortunate, though evidently and triumphantly believing there was no +chance of it. + +In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity of her mother’s +words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible +whisper; for to her inexpressible vexation she could perceive that the +chief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, who sat opposite to them. Her +mother only scolded her for being nonsensical. + +“What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am +sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say +nothing _he_ may not like to hear.” + +“For heaven’s sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be to you +to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by +so doing.” + +Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her mother would +talk of her views in the same intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushed and +blushed again with shame and vexation. She could not help frequently +glancing her eye at Mr. Darcy, though every glance convinced her of what +she dreaded; for though he was not always looking at her mother, she was +convinced that his attention was invariably fixed by her. The expression +of his face changed gradually from indignant contempt to a composed and +steady gravity. + +At length, however, Mrs. Bennet had no more to say; and Lady Lucas, who +had been long yawning at the repetition of delights which she saw no +likelihood of sharing, was left to the comforts of cold ham and chicken. +Elizabeth now began to revive. But not long was the interval of +tranquillity; for when supper was over, singing was talked of, and she +had the mortification of seeing Mary, after very little entreaty, +preparing to oblige the company. By many significant looks and silent +entreaties did she endeavour to prevent such a proof of +complaisance,--but in vain; Mary would not understand them; such an +opportunity of exhibiting was delightful to her, and she began her song. +Elizabeth’s eyes were fixed on her, with most painful sensations; and +she watched her progress through the several stanzas with an impatience +which was very ill rewarded at their close; for Mary, on receiving +amongst the thanks of the table the hint of a hope that she might be +prevailed on to favour them again, after the pause of half a minute +began another. Mary’s powers were by no means fitted for such a display; +her voice was weak, and her manner affected. Elizabeth was in agonies. +She looked at Jane to see how she bore it; but Jane was very composedly +talking to Bingley. She looked at his two sisters, and saw them making +signs of derision at each other, and at Darcy, who continued, however, +impenetrably grave. She looked at her father to entreat his +interference, lest Mary should be singing all night. He took the hint, +and, when Mary had finished her second song, said aloud,-- + +“That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. +Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.” + +Mary, though pretending not to hear, was somewhat disconcerted; and +Elizabeth, sorry for her, and sorry for her father’s speech, was afraid +her anxiety had done no good. Others of the party were now applied to. + +“If I,” said Mr. Collins, “were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I +should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an +air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly +compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean, however, +to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time to +music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The +rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make such +an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself and not +offensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the time +that remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the care +and improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making +as comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importance +that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards +everybody, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I +cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well of the man who +should omit an occasion of testifying his respect towards anybody +connected with the family.” And with a bow to Mr. Darcy, he concluded +his speech, which had been spoken so loud as to be heard by half the +room. Many stared--many smiled; but no one looked more amused than Mr. +Bennet himself, while his wife seriously commended Mr. Collins for +having spoken so sensibly, and observed, in a half-whisper to Lady +Lucas, that he was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man. + +To Elizabeth it appeared, that had her family made an agreement to +expose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would +have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit, or +finer success; and happy did she think it for Bingley and her sister +that some of the exhibition had escaped his notice, and that his +feelings were not of a sort to be much distressed by the folly which he +must have witnessed. That his two sisters and Mr. Darcy, however, should +have such an opportunity of ridiculing her relations was bad enough; and +she could not determine whether the silent contempt of the gentleman, or +the insolent smiles of the ladies, were more intolerable. + +The rest of the evening brought her little amusement. She was teased by +Mr. Collins, who continued most perseveringly by her side; and though he +could not prevail with her to dance with him again, put it out of her +power to dance with others. In vain did she entreat him to stand up with +somebody else, and offered to introduce him to any young lady in the +room. He assured her that, as to dancing, he was perfectly indifferent +to it; that his chief object was, by delicate attentions, to recommend +himself to her; and that he should therefore make a point of remaining +close to her the whole evening. There was no arguing upon such a +project. She owed her greatest relief to her friend Miss Lucas, who +often joined them, and good-naturedly engaged Mr. Collins’s conversation +to herself. + +She was at least free from the offence of Mr. Darcy’s further notice: +though often standing within a very short distance of her, quite +disengaged, he never came near enough to speak. She felt it to be the +probable consequence of her allusions to Mr. Wickham, and rejoiced in +it. + +The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart; and by a +manœuvre of Mrs. Bennet had to wait for their carriage a quarter of an +hour after everybody else was gone, which gave them time to see how +heartily they were wished away by some of the family. Mrs. Hurst and her +sister scarcely opened their mouths except to complain of fatigue, and +were evidently impatient to have the house to themselves. They repulsed +every attempt of Mrs. Bennet at conversation, and, by so doing, threw a +languor over the whole party, which was very little relieved by the long +speeches of Mr. Collins, who was complimenting Mr. Bingley and his +sisters on the elegance of their entertainment, and the hospitality and +politeness which had marked their behaviour to their guests. Darcy said +nothing at all. Mr. Bennet, in equal silence, was enjoying the scene. +Mr. Bingley and Jane were standing together a little detached from the +rest, and talked only to each other. Elizabeth preserved as steady a +silence as either Mrs. Hurst or Miss Bingley; and even Lydia was too +much fatigued to utter more than the occasional exclamation of “Lord, +how tired I am!” accompanied by a violent yawn. + +When at length they arose to take leave, Mrs. Bennet was most pressingly +civil in her hope of seeing the whole family soon at Longbourn; and +addressed herself particularly to Mr. Bingley, to assure him how happy +he would make them, by eating a family dinner with them at any time, +without the ceremony of a formal invitation. Bingley was all grateful +pleasure; and he readily engaged for taking the earliest opportunity of +waiting on her after his return from London, whither he was obliged to +go the next day for a short time. + +Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied; and quitted the house under the +delightful persuasion that, allowing for the necessary preparations of +settlements, new carriages, and wedding clothes, she should undoubtedly +see her daughter settled at Netherfield in the course of three or four +months. Of having another daughter married to Mr. Collins she thought +with equal certainty, and with considerable, though not equal, pleasure. +Elizabeth was the least dear to her of all her children; and though the +man and the match were quite good enough for _her_, the worth of each +was eclipsed by Mr. Bingley and Netherfield. + + + + +[Illustration: + + “to assure you in the most animated language” +] + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +[Illustration] + +The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. Mr. Collins made his +declaration in form. Having resolved to do it without loss of time, as +his leave of absence extended only to the following Saturday, and having +no feelings of diffidence to make it distressing to himself even at the +moment, he set about it in a very orderly manner, with all the +observances which he supposed a regular part of the business. On finding +Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth, and one of the younger girls together, soon +after breakfast, he addressed the mother in these words,-- + +“May I hope, madam, for your interest with your fair daughter Elizabeth, +when I solicit for the honour of a private audience with her in the +course of this morning?” + +Before Elizabeth had time for anything but a blush of surprise, Mrs. +Bennet instantly answered,-- + +“Oh dear! Yes, certainly. I am sure Lizzy will be very happy--I am sure +she can have no objection. Come, Kitty, I want you upstairs.” And +gathering her work together, she was hastening away, when Elizabeth +called out,-- + +“Dear ma’am, do not go. I beg you will not go. Mr. Collins must excuse +me. He can have nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear. I am +going away myself.” + +“No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. I desire you will stay where you are.” And +upon Elizabeth’s seeming really, with vexed and embarrassed looks, about +to escape, she added, “Lizzy, I _insist_ upon your staying and hearing +Mr. Collins.” + +Elizabeth would not oppose such an injunction; and a moment’s +consideration making her also sensible that it would be wisest to get it +over as soon and as quietly as possible, she sat down again, and tried +to conceal, by incessant employment, the feelings which were divided +between distress and diversion. Mrs. Bennet and Kitty walked off, and as +soon as they were gone, Mr. Collins began,-- + +“Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that your modesty, so far from +doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You +would have been less amiable in my eyes had there _not_ been this little +unwillingness; but allow me to assure you that I have your respected +mother’s permission for this address. You can hardly doubt the purport +of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to +dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as +soon as I entered the house I singled you out as the companion of my +future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this +subject, perhaps it will be advisable for me to state my reasons for +marrying--and, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design +of selecting a wife, as I certainly did.” + +The idea of Mr. Collins, with all his solemn composure, being run away +with by his feelings, made Elizabeth so near laughing that she could not +use the short pause he allowed in any attempt to stop him farther, and +he continued,-- + +“My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for +every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example +of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced it will add +very greatly to my happiness; and, thirdly, which perhaps I ought to +have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and +recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling +patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked +too!) on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I +left Hunsford,--between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was +arranging Miss De Bourgh’s footstool,--that she said, ‘Mr. Collins, you +must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a +gentlewoman for _my_ sake, and for your _own_; let her be an active, +useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small +income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as +you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her.’ Allow me, by the +way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and +kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the +advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond +anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity, I think, must be +acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect +which her rank will inevitably excite. Thus much for my general +intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views +were directed to Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I +assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that +being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honoured +father (who, however, may live many years longer), I could not satisfy +myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters, that +the loss to them might be as little as possible when the melancholy +event takes place--which, however, as I have already said, may not be +for several years. This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I +flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing +remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the +violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and +shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well +aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds +in the 4 per cents., which will not be yours till after your mother’s +decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head, +therefore, I shall be uniformly silent: and you may assure yourself that +no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married.” + +It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now. + +“You are too hasty, sir,” she cried. “You forget that I have made no +answer. Let me do it without further loss of time. Accept my thanks for +the compliment you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of +your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than decline +them.” + +“I am not now to learn,” replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the +hand, “that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the +man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their +favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a +third time. I am, therefore, by no means discouraged by what you have +just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long.” + +“Upon my word, sir,” cried Elizabeth, “your hope is rather an +extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I am not +one of those young ladies (if such young ladies there are) who are so +daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second +time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make _me_ +happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who +would make _you_ so. Nay, were your friend Lady Catherine to know me, I +am persuaded she would find me in every respect ill qualified for the +situation.” + +“Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so,” said Mr. Collins, +very gravely--“but I cannot imagine that her Ladyship would at all +disapprove of you. And you may be certain that when I have the honour of +seeing her again I shall speak in the highest terms of your modesty, +economy, and other amiable qualifications.” + +“Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. You must +give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the compliment of +believing what I say. I wish you very happy and very rich, and by +refusing your hand, do all in my power to prevent your being otherwise. +In making me the offer, you must have satisfied the delicacy of your +feelings with regard to my family, and may take possession of Longbourn +estate whenever it falls, without any self-reproach. This matter may be +considered, therefore, as finally settled.” And rising as she thus +spoke, she would have quitted the room, had not Mr. Collins thus +addressed her,-- + +“When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the subject, I +shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given +me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I +know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the +first application, and, perhaps, you have even now said as much to +encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the +female character.” + +“Really, Mr. Collins,” cried Elizabeth, with some warmth, “you puzzle me +exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form +of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as +may convince you of its being one.” + +“You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your +refusal of my addresses are merely words of course. My reasons for +believing it are briefly these:--It does not appear to me that my hand +is unworthy of your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer +would be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my +connections with the family of De Bourgh, and my relationship to your +own, are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into +further consideration that, in spite of your manifold attractions, it is +by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. +Your portion is unhappily so small, that it will in all likelihood undo +the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must, +therefore, conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I +shall choose to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by +suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.” + +“I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretensions whatever to that kind +of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. I would +rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you +again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but +to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect +forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant +female intending to plague you, but as a rational creature speaking the +truth from her heart.” + +“You are uniformly charming!” cried he, with an air of awkward +gallantry; “and I am persuaded that, when sanctioned by the express +authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of +being acceptable.” + +To such perseverance in wilful self-deception Elizabeth would make no +reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew; determined, that if he +persisted in considering her repeated refusals as flattering +encouragement, to apply to her father, whose negative might be uttered +in such a manner as must be decisive, and whose behaviour at least could +not be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant female. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +[Illustration] + +Mr. Collins was not left long to the silent contemplation of his +successful love; for Mrs. Bennet, having dawdled about in the vestibule +to watch for the end of the conference, no sooner saw Elizabeth open the +door and with quick step pass her towards the staircase, than she +entered the breakfast-room, and congratulated both him and herself in +warm terms on the happy prospect of their nearer connection. Mr. Collins +received and returned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and then +proceeded to relate the particulars of their interview, with the result +of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied, since the +refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him would naturally flow +from her bashful modesty and the genuine delicacy of her character. + +This information, however, startled Mrs. Bennet: she would have been +glad to be equally satisfied that her daughter had meant to encourage +him by protesting against his proposals, but she dared not believe it, +and could not help saying so. + +“But depend upon it, Mr. Collins,” she added, “that Lizzy shall be +brought to reason. I will speak to her about it myself directly. She is +a very headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her own interest; but +I will _make_ her know it.” + +“Pardon me for interrupting you, madam,” cried Mr. Collins; “but if she +is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether she would +altogether be a very desirable wife to a man in my situation, who +naturally looks for happiness in the marriage state. If, therefore, she +actually persists in rejecting my suit, perhaps it were better not to +force her into accepting me, because, if liable to such defects of +temper, she could not contribute much to my felicity.” + +“Sir, you quite misunderstand me,” said Mrs. Bennet, alarmed. “Lizzy is +only headstrong in such matters as these. In everything else she is as +good-natured a girl as ever lived. I will go directly to Mr. Bennet, and +we shall very soon settle it with her, I am sure.” + +She would not give him time to reply, but hurrying instantly to her +husband, called out, as she entered the library,-- + +“Oh, Mr. Bennet, you are wanted immediately; we are all in an uproar. +You must come and make Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows she will +not have him; and if you do not make haste he will change his mind and +not have _her_.” + +Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and fixed them +on her face with a calm unconcern, which was not in the least altered by +her communication. + +“I have not the pleasure of understanding you,” said he, when she had +finished her speech. “Of what are you talking?” + +“Of Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not have Mr. Collins, +and Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not have Lizzy.” + +“And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems a hopeless business.” + +“Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon her +marrying him.” + +“Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion.” + +Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was summoned to the +library. + +“Come here, child,” cried her father as she appeared. “I have sent for +you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr. Collins has made +you an offer of marriage. Is it true?” + +Elizabeth replied that it was. + +“Very well--and this offer of marriage you have refused?” + +“I have, sir.” + +“Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your +accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs. Bennet?” + +“Yes, or I will never see her again.” + +“An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must +be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you +again if you do _not_ marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again +if you _do_.” + +Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning; +but Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded the +affair as she wished, was excessively disappointed. + +“What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, by talking in this way? You promised me +to _insist_ upon her marrying him.” + +“My dear,” replied her husband, “I have two small favours to request. +First, that you will allow me the free use of my understanding on the +present occasion; and, secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have the +library to myself as soon as may be.” + +Not yet, however, in spite of her disappointment in her husband, did +Mrs. Bennet give up the point. She talked to Elizabeth again and again; +coaxed and threatened her by turns. She endeavoured to secure Jane in +her interest, but Jane, with all possible mildness, declined +interfering; and Elizabeth, sometimes with real earnestness, and +sometimes with playful gaiety, replied to her attacks. Though her manner +varied, however, her determination never did. + +Mr. Collins, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on what had passed. +He thought too well of himself to comprehend on what motive his cousin +could refuse him; and though his pride was hurt, he suffered in no other +way. His regard for her was quite imaginary; and the possibility of her +deserving her mother’s reproach prevented his feeling any regret. + +While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came to spend +the day with them. She was met in the vestibule by Lydia, who, flying to +her, cried in a half whisper, “I am glad you are come, for there is such +fun here! What do you think has happened this morning? Mr. Collins has +made an offer to Lizzy, and she will not have him.” + +[Illustration: + + “they entered the breakfast room” +] + +Charlotte had hardly time to answer before they were joined by Kitty, +who came to tell the same news; and no sooner had they entered the +breakfast-room, where Mrs. Bennet was alone, than she likewise began on +the subject, calling on Miss Lucas for her compassion, and entreating +her to persuade her friend Lizzy to comply with the wishes of her +family. “Pray do, my dear Miss Lucas,” she added, in a melancholy tone; +“for nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me; I am cruelly used, +nobody feels for my poor nerves.” + +Charlotte’s reply was spared by the entrance of Jane and Elizabeth. + +“Ay, there she comes,” continued Mrs. Bennet, “looking as unconcerned as +may be, and caring no more for us than if we were at York, provided she +can have her own way. But I tell you what, Miss Lizzy, if you take it +into your head to go on refusing every offer of marriage in this way, +you will never get a husband at all--and I am sure I do not know who is +to maintain you when your father is dead. _I_ shall not be able to keep +you--and so I warn you. I have done with you from this very day. I told +you in the library, you know, that I should never speak to you again, +and you will find me as good as my word. I have no pleasure in talking +to undutiful children. Not that I have much pleasure, indeed, in talking +to anybody. People who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have +no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it +is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied.” + +Her daughters listened in silence to this effusion, sensible that any +attempt to reason with or soothe her would only increase the irritation. +She talked on, therefore, without interruption from any of them till +they were joined by Mr. Collins, who entered with an air more stately +than usual, and on perceiving whom, she said to the girls,-- + +“Now, I do insist upon it, that you, all of you, hold your tongues, and +let Mr. Collins and me have a little conversation together.” + +Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kitty followed, but +Lydia stood her ground, determined to hear all she could; and Charlotte, +detained first by the civility of Mr. Collins, whose inquiries after +herself and all her family were very minute, and then by a little +curiosity, satisfied herself with walking to the window and pretending +not to hear. In a doleful voice Mrs. Bennet thus began the projected +conversation:-- + +“Oh, Mr. Collins!” + +“My dear madam,” replied he, “let us be for ever silent on this point. +Far be it from me,” he presently continued, in a voice that marked his +displeasure, “to resent the behaviour of your daughter. Resignation to +inevitable evils is the duty of us all: the peculiar duty of a young man +who has been so fortunate as I have been, in early preferment; and, I +trust, I am resigned. Perhaps not the less so from feeling a doubt of my +positive happiness had my fair cousin honoured me with her hand; for I +have often observed, that resignation is never so perfect as when the +blessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in our estimation. +You will not, I hope, consider me as showing any disrespect to your +family, my dear madam, by thus withdrawing my pretensions to your +daughter’s favour, without having paid yourself and Mr. Bennet the +compliment of requesting you to interpose your authority in my behalf. +My conduct may, I fear, be objectionable in having accepted my +dismission from your daughter’s lips instead of your own; but we are all +liable to error. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair. +My object has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with due +consideration for the advantage of all your family; and if my _manner_ +has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to apologize.” + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +[Illustration] + +The discussion of Mr. Collins’s offer was now nearly at an end, and +Elizabeth had only to suffer from the uncomfortable feelings necessarily +attending it, and occasionally from some peevish allusion of her mother. +As for the gentleman himself, _his_ feelings were chiefly expressed, not +by embarrassment or dejection, or by trying to avoid her, but by +stiffness of manner and resentful silence. He scarcely ever spoke to +her; and the assiduous attentions which he had been so sensible of +himself were transferred for the rest of the day to Miss Lucas, whose +civility in listening to him was a seasonable relief to them all, and +especially to her friend. + +The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Bennet’s ill humour or ill +health. Mr. Collins was also in the same state of angry pride. Elizabeth +had hoped that his resentment might shorten his visit, but his plan did +not appear in the least affected by it. He was always to have gone on +Saturday, and to Saturday he still meant to stay. + +After breakfast, the girls walked to Meryton, to inquire if Mr. Wickham +were returned, and to lament over his absence from the Netherfield ball. +He joined them on their entering the town, and attended them to their +aunt’s, where his regret and vexation and the concern of everybody were +well talked over. To Elizabeth, however, he voluntarily acknowledged +that the necessity of his absence _had_ been self-imposed. + +“I found,” said he, “as the time drew near, that I had better not meet +Mr. Darcy;--that to be in the same room, the same party with him for so +many hours together, might be more than I could bear, and that scenes +might arise unpleasant to more than myself.” + +She highly approved his forbearance; and they had leisure for a full +discussion of it, and for all the commendations which they civilly +bestowed on each other, as Wickham and another officer walked back with +them to Longbourn, and during the walk he particularly attended to her. +His accompanying them was a double advantage: she felt all the +compliment it offered to herself; and it was most acceptable as an +occasion of introducing him to her father and mother. + +[Illustration: “Walked back with them” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet; it came +from Netherfield, and was opened immediately. The envelope contained a +sheet of elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady’s +fair, flowing hand; and Elizabeth saw her sister’s countenance change as +she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular passages. +Jane recollected herself soon; and putting the letter away, tried to +join, with her usual cheerfulness, in the general conversation: but +Elizabeth felt an anxiety on the subject which drew off her attention +even from Wickham; and no sooner had he and his companion taken leave, +than a glance from Jane invited her to follow her upstairs. When they +had gained their own room, Jane, taking out her letter, said, “This is +from Caroline Bingley: what it contains has surprised me a good deal. +The whole party have left Netherfield by this time, and are on their way +to town; and without any intention of coming back again. You shall hear +what she says.” + +She then read the first sentence aloud, which comprised the information +of their having just resolved to follow their brother to town directly, +and of their meaning to dine that day in Grosvenor Street, where Mr. +Hurst had a house. The next was in these words:--“‘I do not pretend to +regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire except your society, my +dearest friend; but we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many +returns of that delightful intercourse we have known, and in the +meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most +unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that.’” To these +high-flown expressions Elizabeth listened with all the insensibility of +distrust; and though the suddenness of their removal surprised her, she +saw nothing in it really to lament: it was not to be supposed that their +absence from Netherfield would prevent Mr. Bingley’s being there; and as +to the loss of their society, she was persuaded that Jane must soon +cease to regard it in the enjoyment of his. + +“It is unlucky,” said she, after a short pause, “that you should not be +able to see your friends before they leave the country. But may we not +hope that the period of future happiness, to which Miss Bingley looks +forward, may arrive earlier than she is aware, and that the delightful +intercourse you have known as friends will be renewed with yet greater +satisfaction as sisters? Mr. Bingley will not be detained in London by +them.” + +“Caroline decidedly says that none of the party will return into +Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you. + +“‘When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which +took him to London might be concluded in three or four days; but as we +are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when +Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have +determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend +his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintance are +already there for the winter: I wish I could hear that you, my dearest +friend, had any intention of making one in the crowd, but of that I +despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in +the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux +will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of +whom we shall deprive you.’ + +“It is evident by this,” added Jane, “that he comes back no more this +winter.” + +“It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not mean he _should_.” + +“Why will you think so? It must be his own doing; he is his own master. +But you do not know _all_. I _will_ read you the passage which +particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves from _you_. ‘Mr. Darcy is +impatient to see his sister; and to confess the truth, _we_ are scarcely +less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has +her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection +she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still +more interesting from the hope we dare to entertain of her being +hereafter our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to +you my feelings on this subject, but I will not leave the country +without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them +unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; he will have +frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing; her +relations all wish the connection as much as his own; and a sister’s +partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most +capable of engaging any woman’s heart. With all these circumstances to +favour an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest +Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness +of so many?’ What think you of _this_ sentence, my dear Lizzy?” said +Jane, as she finished it. “Is it not clear enough? Does it not expressly +declare that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be her sister; +that she is perfectly convinced of her brother’s indifference; and that +if she suspects the nature of my feelings for him she means (most +kindly!) to put me on my guard. Can there be any other opinion on the +subject?” + +“Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?” + +“Most willingly.” + +“You shall have it in a few words. Miss Bingley sees that her brother is +in love with you and wants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him to +town in the hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he +does not care about you.” + +Jane shook her head. + +“Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. No one who has ever seen you +together can doubt his affection; Miss Bingley, I am sure, cannot: she +is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen half as much love in Mr. +Darcy for herself, she would have ordered her wedding clothes. But the +case is this:--we are not rich enough or grand enough for them; and she +is the more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion +that when there has been _one_ inter-marriage, she may have less trouble +in achieving a second; in which there is certainly some ingenuity, and I +dare say it would succeed if Miss de Bourgh were out of the way. But, my +dearest Jane, you cannot seriously imagine that, because Miss Bingley +tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, he is in the smallest +degree less sensible of _your_ merit than when he took leave of you on +Tuesday; or that it will be in her power to persuade him that, instead +of being in love with you, he is very much in love with her friend.” + +“If we thought alike of Miss Bingley,” replied Jane, “your +representation of all this might make me quite easy. But I know the +foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of wilfully deceiving +anyone; and all that I can hope in this case is, that she is deceived +herself.” + +“That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea, since you +will not take comfort in mine: believe her to be deceived, by all means. +You have now done your duty by her, and must fret no longer.” + +“But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even supposing the best, in +accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to marry +elsewhere?” + +“You must decide for yourself,” said Elizabeth; “and if, upon mature +deliberation, you find that the misery of disobliging his two sisters is +more than equivalent to the happiness of being his wife, I advise you, +by all means, to refuse him.” + +“How can you talk so?” said Jane, faintly smiling; “you must know, that, +though I should be exceedingly grieved at their disapprobation, I could +not hesitate.” + +“I did not think you would; and that being the case, I cannot consider +your situation with much compassion.” + +“But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never be +required. A thousand things may arise in six months.” + +The idea of his returning no more Elizabeth treated with the utmost +contempt. It appeared to her merely the suggestion of Caroline’s +interested wishes; and she could not for a moment suppose that those +wishes, however openly or artfully spoken, could influence a young man +so totally independent of everyone. + +She represented to her sister, as forcibly as possible, what she felt on +the subject, and had soon the pleasure of seeing its happy effect. +Jane’s temper was not desponding; and she was gradually led to hope, +though the diffidence of affection sometimes overcame the hope, that +Bingley would return to Netherfield, and answer every wish of her heart. + +They agreed that Mrs. Bennet should only hear of the departure of the +family, without being alarmed on the score of the gentleman’s conduct; +but even this partial communication gave her a great deal of concern, +and she bewailed it as exceedingly unlucky that the ladies should happen +to go away just as they were all getting so intimate together. After +lamenting it, however, at some length, she had the consolation of +thinking that Mr. Bingley would be soon down again, and soon dining at +Longbourn; and the conclusion of all was the comfortable declaration, +that, though he had been invited only to a family dinner, she would take +care to have two full courses. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +[Illustration] + +The Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucases; and again, during the +chief of the day, was Miss Lucas so kind as to listen to Mr. Collins. +Elizabeth took an opportunity of thanking her. “It keeps him in good +humour,” said she, “and I am more obliged to you than I can express.” + +Charlotte assured her friend of her satisfaction in being useful, and +that it amply repaid her for the little sacrifice of her time. This was +very amiable; but Charlotte’s kindness extended farther than Elizabeth +had any conception of:--its object was nothing less than to secure her +from any return of Mr. Collins’s addresses, by engaging them towards +herself. Such was Miss Lucas’s scheme; and appearances were so +favourable, that when they parted at night, she would have felt almost +sure of success if he had not been to leave Hertfordshire so very soon. +But here she did injustice to the fire and independence of his +character; for it led him to escape out of Longbourn House the next +morning with admirable slyness, and hasten to Lucas Lodge to throw +himself at her feet. He was anxious to avoid the notice of his cousins, +from a conviction that, if they saw him depart, they could not fail to +conjecture his design, and he was not willing to have the attempt known +till its success could be known likewise; for, though feeling almost +secure, and with reason, for Charlotte had been tolerably encouraging, +he was comparatively diffident since the adventure of Wednesday. His +reception, however, was of the most flattering kind. Miss Lucas +perceived him from an upper window as he walked towards the house, and +instantly set out to meet him accidentally in the lane. But little had +she dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited her there. + +In as short a time as Mr. Collins’s long speeches would allow, +everything was settled between them to the satisfaction of both; and as +they entered the house, he earnestly entreated her to name the day that +was to make him the happiest of men; and though such a solicitation must +be waived for the present, the lady felt no inclination to trifle with +his happiness. The stupidity with which he was favoured by nature must +guard his courtship from any charm that could make a woman wish for its +continuance; and Miss Lucas, who accepted him solely from the pure and +disinterested desire of an establishment, cared not how soon that +establishment were gained. + +Sir William and Lady Lucas were speedily applied to for their consent; +and it was bestowed with a most joyful alacrity. Mr. Collins’s present +circumstances made it a most eligible match for their daughter, to whom +they could give little fortune; and his prospects of future wealth were +exceedingly fair. Lady Lucas began directly to calculate, with more +interest than the matter had ever + +[Illustration: + + “So much love and eloquence” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +excited before, how many years longer Mr. Bennet was likely to live; and +Sir William gave it as his decided opinion, that whenever Mr. Collins +should be in possession of the Longbourn estate, it would be highly +expedient that both he and his wife should make their appearance at St. +James’s. The whole family in short were properly overjoyed on the +occasion. The younger girls formed hopes of _coming out_ a year or two +sooner than they might otherwise have done; and the boys were relieved +from their apprehension of Charlotte’s dying an old maid. Charlotte +herself was tolerably composed. She had gained her point, and had time +to consider of it. Her reflections were in general satisfactory. Mr. +Collins, to be sure, was neither sensible nor agreeable: his society was +irksome, and his attachment to her must be imaginary. But still he would +be her husband. Without thinking highly either of men or of matrimony, +marriage had always been her object: it was the only honourable +provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and, however +uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative +from want. This preservative she had now obtained; and at the age of +twenty-seven, without having ever been handsome, she felt all the good +luck of it. The least agreeable circumstance in the business was the +surprise it must occasion to Elizabeth Bennet, whose friendship she +valued beyond that of any other person. Elizabeth would wonder, and +probably would blame her; and though her resolution was not to be +shaken, her feelings must be hurt by such a disapprobation. She resolved +to give her the information herself; and therefore charged Mr. Collins, +when he returned to Longbourn to dinner, to drop no hint of what had +passed before any of the family. A promise of secrecy was of course very +dutifully given, but it could not be kept without difficulty; for the +curiosity excited by his long absence burst forth in such very direct +questions on his return, as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was +at the same time exercising great self-denial, for he was longing to +publish his prosperous love. + +As he was to begin his journey too early on the morrow to see any of +the family, the ceremony of leave-taking was performed when the ladies +moved for the night; and Mrs. Bennet, with great politeness and +cordiality, said how happy they should be to see him at Longbourn again, +whenever his other engagements might allow him to visit them. + +“My dear madam,” he replied, “this invitation is particularly +gratifying, because it is what I have been hoping to receive; and you +may be very certain that I shall avail myself of it as soon as +possible.” + +They were all astonished; and Mr. Bennet, who could by no means wish for +so speedy a return, immediately said,-- + +“But is there not danger of Lady Catherine’s disapprobation here, my +good sir? You had better neglect your relations than run the risk of +offending your patroness.” + +“My dear sir,” replied Mr. Collins, “I am particularly obliged to you +for this friendly caution, and you may depend upon my not taking so +material a step without her Ladyship’s concurrence.” + +“You cannot be too much on your guard. Risk anything rather than her +displeasure; and if you find it likely to be raised by your coming to us +again, which I should think exceedingly probable, stay quietly at home, +and be satisfied that _we_ shall take no offence.” + +“Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly excited by such +affectionate attention; and, depend upon it, you will speedily receive +from me a letter of thanks for this as well as for every other mark of +your regard during my stay in Hertfordshire. As for my fair cousins, +though my absence may not be long enough to render it necessary, I shall +now take the liberty of wishing them health and happiness, not excepting +my cousin Elizabeth.” + +With proper civilities, the ladies then withdrew; all of them equally +surprised to find that he meditated a quick return. Mrs. Bennet wished +to understand by it that he thought of paying his addresses to one of +her younger girls, and Mary might have been prevailed on to accept him. +She rated his abilities much higher than any of the others: there was a +solidity in his reflections which often struck her; and though by no +means so clever as herself, she thought that, if encouraged to read and +improve himself by such an example as hers, he might become a very +agreeable companion. But on the following morning every hope of this +kind was done away. Miss Lucas called soon after breakfast, and in a +private conference with Elizabeth related the event of the day before. + +The possibility of Mr. Collins’s fancying himself in love with her +friend had once occurred to Elizabeth within the last day or two: but +that Charlotte could encourage him seemed almost as far from possibility +as that she could encourage him herself; and her astonishment was +consequently so great as to overcome at first the bounds of decorum, and +she could not help crying out,-- + +“Engaged to Mr. Collins! my dear Charlotte, impossible!” + +The steady countenance which Miss Lucas had commanded in telling her +story gave way to a momentary confusion here on receiving so direct a +reproach; though, as it was no more than she expected, she soon regained +her composure, and calmly replied,-- + +“Why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? Do you think it incredible +that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman’s good opinion, +because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?” + +But Elizabeth had now recollected herself; and, making a strong effort +for it, was able to assure her, with tolerable firmness, that the +prospect of their relationship was highly grateful to her, and that she +wished her all imaginable happiness. + +“I see what you are feeling,” replied Charlotte; “you must be surprised, +very much surprised, so lately as Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you. +But when you have had time to think it all over, I hope you will be +satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic, you know. I never +was. I ask only a comfortable home; and, considering Mr. Collins’s +character, connections, and situation in life, I am convinced that my +chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on +entering the marriage state.” + +Elizabeth quietly answered “undoubtedly;” and, after an awkward pause, +they returned to the rest of the family. Charlotte did not stay much +longer; and Elizabeth was then left to reflect on what she had heard. It +was a long time before she became at all reconciled to the idea of so +unsuitable a match. The strangeness of Mr. Collins’s making two offers +of marriage within three days was nothing in comparison of his being now +accepted. She had always felt that Charlotte’s opinion of matrimony was +not exactly like her own; but she could not have supposed it possible +that, when called into action, she would have sacrificed every better +feeling to worldly advantage. Charlotte, the wife of Mr. Collins, was a +most humiliating picture! And to the pang of a friend disgracing +herself, and sunk in her esteem, was added the distressing conviction +that it was impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot +she had chosen. + + + + +[Illustration: + + “Protested he must be entirely mistaken.” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +[Illustration] + +Elizabeth was sitting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on what +she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorized to mention it, +when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent by his daughter to +announce her engagement to the family. With many compliments to them, +and much self-gratulation on the prospect of a connection between the +houses, he unfolded the matter,--to an audience not merely wondering, +but incredulous; for Mrs. Bennet, with more perseverance than +politeness, protested he must be entirely mistaken; and Lydia, always +unguarded and often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed,-- + +“Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not you know +that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?” + +Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne +without anger such treatment: but Sir William’s good-breeding carried +him through it all; and though he begged leave to be positive as to the +truth of his information, he listened to all their impertinence with the +most forbearing courtesy. + +Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so unpleasant +a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his account, by +mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte herself; and +endeavoured to put a stop to the exclamations of her mother and sisters, +by the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir William, in which she +was readily joined by Jane, and by making a variety of remarks on the +happiness that might be expected from the match, the excellent character +of Mr. Collins, and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London. + +Mrs. Bennet was, in fact, too much overpowered to say a great deal while +Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them than her feelings +found a rapid vent. In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving +the whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that Mr. Collins +had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they would never be happy +together; and, fourthly, that the match might be broken off. Two +inferences, however, were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that +Elizabeth was the real cause of all the mischief; and the other, that +she herself had been barbarously used by them all; and on these two +points she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could +console and nothing appease her. Nor did that day wear out her +resentment. A week elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without +scolding her: a month passed away before she could speak to Sir William +or Lady Lucas without being rude; and many months were gone before she +could at all forgive their daughter. + +Mr. Bennet’s emotions were much more tranquil on the occasion, and such +as he did experience he pronounced to be of a most agreeable sort; for +it gratified him, he said, to discover that Charlotte Lucas, whom he had +been used to think tolerably sensible, was as foolish as his wife, and +more foolish than his daughter! + +Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match: but she said +less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their happiness; +nor could Elizabeth persuade her to consider it as improbable. Kitty and +Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was only a +clergyman; and it affected them in no other way than as a piece of news +to spread at Meryton. + +Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to retort on +Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well married; and she +called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was, +though Mrs. Bennet’s sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have been +enough to drive happiness away. + +Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint which kept them +mutually silent on the subject; and Elizabeth felt persuaded that no +real confidence could ever subsist between them again. Her +disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with fonder regard to her +sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy she was sure her opinion could +never be shaken, and for whose happiness she grew daily more anxious, as +Bingley had now been gone a week, and nothing was heard of his return. + +Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her letter, and was counting +the days till she might reasonably hope to hear again. The promised +letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their +father, and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a +twelve-month’s abode in the family might have prompted. After +discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform them, +with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the +affection of their amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, and then explained +that it was merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had +been so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him again at +Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight; +for Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that +she wished it to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would +be an unanswerable argument with his amiable Charlotte to name an early +day for making him the happiest of men. + +Mr. Collins’s return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of +pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On the contrary, she was as much disposed to +complain of it as her husband. It was very strange that he should come +to Longbourn instead of to Lucas Lodge; it was also very inconvenient +and exceedingly troublesome. She hated having visitors in the house +while her health was so indifferent, and lovers were of all people the +most disagreeable. Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Bennet, and they +gave way only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley’s continued +absence. + +Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject. Day after +day passed away without bringing any other tidings of him than the +report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to +Netherfield the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs. +Bennet, and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous +falsehood. + +Even Elizabeth began to fear--not that Bingley was indifferent--but that +his sisters would be successful in keeping him away. Unwilling as she +was to admit an idea so destructive to Jane’s happiness, and so +dishonourable to the stability of her lover, she could not prevent its +frequently recurring. The united efforts of his two unfeeling sisters, +and of his overpowering friend, assisted by the attractions of Miss +Darcy and the amusements of London, might be too much, she feared, for +the strength of his attachment. + +As for Jane, _her_ anxiety under this suspense was, of course, more +painful than Elizabeth’s: but whatever she felt she was desirous of +concealing; and between herself and Elizabeth, therefore, the subject +was never alluded to. But as no such delicacy restrained her mother, an +hour seldom passed in which she did not talk of Bingley, express her +impatience for his arrival, or even require Jane to confess that if he +did not come back she should think herself very ill-used. It needed all +Jane’s steady mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable +tranquillity. + +Mr. Collins returned most punctually on the Monday fortnight, but his +reception at Longbourn was not quite so gracious as it had been on his +first introduction. He was too happy, however, to need much attention; +and, luckily for the others, the business of love-making relieved them +from a great deal of his company. The chief of every day was spent by +him at Lucas Lodge, and he sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time +to make an apology for his absence before the family went to bed. + +[Illustration: + + “_Whenever she spoke in a low voice_” +] + +Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The very mention of +anything concerning the match threw her into an agony of ill-humour, and +wherever she went she was sure of hearing it talked of. The sight of +Miss Lucas was odious to her. As her successor in that house, she +regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte came to see +them, she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession; and +whenever she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, was convinced that +they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and resolving to turn herself +and her daughters out of the house as soon as Mr. Bennet was dead. She +complained bitterly of all this to her husband. + +“Indeed, Mr. Bennet,” said she, “it is very hard to think that Charlotte +Lucas should ever be mistress of this house, that _I_ should be forced +to make way for _her_, and live to see her take my place in it!” + +“My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for +better things. Let us flatter ourselves that _I_ may be the survivor.” + +This was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet; and, therefore, instead of +making any answer, she went on as before. + +“I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate. If it was +not for the entail, I should not mind it.” + +“What should not you mind?” + +“I should not mind anything at all.” + +“Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such +insensibility.” + +“I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for anything about the entail. How +anyone could have the conscience to entail away an estate from one’s own +daughters I cannot understand; and all for the sake of Mr. Collins, too! +Why should _he_ have it more than anybody else?” + +“I leave it to yourself to determine,” said Mr. Bennet. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +[Illustration] + +Miss Bingley’s letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very first +sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled in London for +the winter, and concluded with her brother’s regret at not having had +time to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he left +the country. + +Hope was over, entirely over; and when Jane could attend to the rest of +the letter, she found little, except the professed affection of the +writer, that could give her any comfort. Miss Darcy’s praise occupied +the chief of it. Her many attractions were again dwelt on; and Caroline +boasted joyfully of their increasing intimacy, and ventured to predict +the accomplishment of the wishes which had been unfolded in her former +letter. She wrote also with great pleasure of her brother’s being an +inmate of Mr. Darcy’s house, and mentioned with raptures some plans of +the latter with regard to new furniture. + +Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief of all this, +heard it in silent indignation. Her heart was divided between concern +for her sister and resentment against all others. To Caroline’s +assertion of her brother’s being partial to Miss Darcy, she paid no +credit. That he was really fond of Jane, she doubted no more than she +had ever done; and much as she had always been disposed to like him, she +could not think without anger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness +of temper, that want of proper resolution, which now made him the slave +of his designing friends, and led him to sacrifice his own happiness to +the caprice of their inclinations. Had his own happiness, however, been +the only sacrifice, he might have been allowed to sport with it in +whatever manner he thought best; but her sister’s was involved in it, as +she thought he must be sensible himself. It was a subject, in short, on +which reflection would be long indulged, and must be unavailing. She +could think of nothing else; and yet, whether Bingley’s regard had +really died away, or were suppressed by his friends’ interference; +whether he had been aware of Jane’s attachment, or whether it had +escaped his observation; whichever were the case, though her opinion of +him must be materially affected by the difference, her sister’s +situation remained the same, her peace equally wounded. + +A day or two passed before Jane had courage to speak of her feelings to +Elizabeth; but at last, on Mrs. Bennet’s leaving them together, after a +longer irritation than usual about Netherfield and its master, she could +not help saying,-- + +“O that my dear mother had more command over herself! she can have no +idea of the pain she gives me by her continual reflections on him. But I +will not repine. It cannot last long. He will be forgot, and we shall +all be as we were before.” + +Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, but said +nothing. + +“You doubt me,” cried Jane, slightly colouring; “indeed, you have no +reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable man of my +acquaintance but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and +nothing to reproach him with. Thank God I have not _that_ pain. A little +time, therefore--I shall certainly try to get the better----” + +With a stronger voice she soon added, “I have this comfort immediately, +that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that it +has done no harm to anyone but myself.” + +“My dear Jane,” exclaimed Elizabeth, “you are too good. Your sweetness +and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know what to say to +you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or loved you as you +deserve.” + +Miss Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, and threw back +the praise on her sister’s warm affection. + +“Nay,” said Elizabeth, “this is not fair. _You_ wish to think all the +world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. _I_ only want +to think _you_ perfect, and you set yourself against it. Do not be +afraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching on your +privilege of universal good-will. You need not. There are few people +whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see +of the world the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms +my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the +little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of either merit +or sense. I have met with two instances lately: one I will not mention, +the other is Charlotte’s marriage. It is unaccountable! in every view it +is unaccountable!” + +“My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these. They will +ruin your happiness. You do not make allowance enough for difference of +situation and temper. Consider Mr. Collins’s respectability, and +Charlotte’s prudent, steady character. Remember that she is one of a +large family; that as to fortune it is a most eligible match; and be +ready to believe, for everybody’s sake, that she may feel something like +regard and esteem for our cousin.” + +“To oblige you, I would try to believe almost anything, but no one else +could be benefited by such a belief as this; for were I persuaded that +Charlotte had any regard for him, I should only think worse of her +understanding than I now do of her heart. My dear Jane, Mr. Collins is a +conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly man: you know he is, as well as +I do; and you must feel, as well as I do, that the woman who marries him +cannot have a proper way of thinking. You shall not defend her, though +it is Charlotte Lucas. You shall not, for the sake of one individual, +change the meaning of principle and integrity, nor endeavour to persuade +yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence, and insensibility of +danger security for happiness.” + +“I must think your language too strong in speaking of both,” replied +Jane; “and I hope you will be convinced of it, by seeing them happy +together. But enough of this. You alluded to something else. You +mentioned _two_ instances. I cannot misunderstand you, but I entreat +you, dear Lizzy, not to pain me by thinking _that person_ to blame, and +saying your opinion of him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy +ourselves intentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young man +to be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing but +our own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration means more than +it does.” + +“And men take care that they should.” + +“If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; but I have no idea +of there being so much design in the world as some persons imagine.” + +“I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Bingley’s conduct to design,” +said Elizabeth; “but, without scheming to do wrong, or to make others +unhappy, there may be error and there may be misery. Thoughtlessness, +want of attention to other people’s feelings, and want of resolution, +will do the business.” + +“And do you impute it to either of those?” + +“Yes; to the last. But if I go on I shall displease you by saying what I +think of persons you esteem. Stop me, whilst you can.” + +“You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence him?” + +“Yes, in conjunction with his friend.” + +“I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence him? They can +only wish his happiness; and if he is attached to me no other woman can +secure it.” + +“Your first position is false. They may wish many things besides his +happiness: they may wish his increase of wealth and consequence; they +may wish him to marry a girl who has all the importance of money, great +connections, and pride.” + +“Beyond a doubt they do wish him to choose Miss Darcy,” replied Jane; +“but this may be from better feelings than you are supposing. They have +known her much longer than they have known me; no wonder if they love +her better. But, whatever may be their own wishes, it is very unlikely +they should have opposed their brother’s. What sister would think +herself at liberty to do it, unless there were something very +objectionable? If they believed him attached to me they would not try to +part us; if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such an +affection, you make everybody acting unnaturally and wrong, and me most +unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am not ashamed of having been +mistaken--or, at least, it is slight, it is nothing in comparison of +what I should feel in thinking ill of him or his sisters. Let me take it +in the best light, in the light in which it may be understood.” + +Elizabeth could not oppose such a wish; and from this time Mr. Bingley’s +name was scarcely ever mentioned between them. + +Mrs. Bennet still continued to wonder and repine at his returning no +more; and though a day seldom passed in which Elizabeth did not account +for it clearly, there seemed little chance of her ever considering it +with less perplexity. Her daughter endeavoured to convince her of what +she did not believe herself, that his attentions to Jane had been merely +the effect of a common and transient liking, which ceased when he saw +her no more; but though the probability of the statement was admitted at +the time, she had the same story to repeat every day. Mrs. Bennet’s best +comfort was, that Mr. Bingley must be down again in the summer. + +Mr. Bennet treated the matter differently. “So, Lizzy,” said he, one +day, “your sister is crossed in love, I find. I congratulate her. Next +to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and +then. It is something to think of, and gives her a sort of distinction +among her companions. When is your turn to come? You will hardly bear to +be long outdone by Jane. Now is your time. Here are officers enough at +Meryton to disappoint all the young ladies in the country. Let Wickham +be your man. He is a pleasant fellow, and would jilt you creditably.” + +“Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. We must not +all expect Jane’s good fortune.” + +“True,” said Mr. Bennet; “but it is a comfort to think that, whatever of +that kind may befall you, you have an affectionate mother who will +always make the most of it.” + +Mr. Wickham’s society was of material service in dispelling the gloom +which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on many of the Longbourn +family. They saw him often, and to his other recommendations was now +added that of general unreserve. The whole of what Elizabeth had already +heard, his claims on Mr. Darcy, and all that he had suffered from him, +was now openly acknowledged and publicly canvassed; and everybody was +pleased to think how much they had always disliked Mr. Darcy before they +had known anything of the matter. + +Miss Bennet was the only creature who could suppose there might be any +extenuating circumstances in the case unknown to the society of +Hertfordshire: her mild and steady candour always pleaded for +allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes; but by everybody else +Mr. Darcy was condemned as the worst of men. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + +[Illustration] + +After a week spent in professions of love and schemes of felicity, Mr. +Collins was called from his amiable Charlotte by the arrival of +Saturday. The pain of separation, however, might be alleviated on his +side by preparations for the reception of his bride, as he had reason to +hope, that shortly after his next return into Hertfordshire, the day +would be fixed that was to make him the happiest of men. He took leave +of his relations at Longbourn with as much solemnity as before; wished +his fair cousins health and happiness again, and promised their father +another letter of thanks. + +On the following Monday, Mrs. Bennet had the pleasure of receiving her +brother and his wife, who came, as usual, to spend the Christmas at +Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, gentlemanlike man, greatly +superior to his sister, as well by nature as education. The Netherfield +ladies would have had difficulty in believing that a man who lived by +trade, and within view of his own warehouses, could have been so +well-bred and agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger +than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips, was an amiable, intelligent, elegant +woman, and a great favourite with her Longbourn nieces. Between the two +eldest and herself especially, there subsisted a very particular regard. +They had frequently been staying with her in town. + +The first part of Mrs. Gardiner’s business, on her arrival, was to +distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions. When this was +done, she had a less active part to play. It became her turn to listen. +Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to relate, and much to complain of. They +had all been very ill-used since she last saw her sister. Two of her +girls had been on the point of marriage, and after all there was nothing +in it. + +“I do not blame Jane,” she continued, “for Jane would have got Mr. +Bingley if she could. But, Lizzy! Oh, sister! it is very hard to think +that she might have been Mr. Collins’s wife by this time, had not it +been for her own perverseness. He made her an offer in this very room, +and she refused him. The consequence of it is, that Lady Lucas will have +a daughter married before I have, and that Longbourn estate is just as +much entailed as ever. The Lucases are very artful people, indeed, +sister. They are all for what they can get. I am sorry to say it of +them, but so it is. It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be thwarted +so in my own family, and to have neighbours who think of themselves +before anybody else. However, your coming just at this time is the +greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us of +long sleeves.” + +Mrs. Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news had been given before, in +the course of Jane and Elizabeth’s correspondence with her, made her +sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to her nieces, turned the +conversation. + +When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she spoke more on the subject. +“It seems likely to have been a desirable match for Jane,” said she. “I +am sorry it went off. But these things happen so often! A young man, +such as you describe Mr. Bingley, so easily falls in love with a pretty +girl for a few weeks, and, when accident separates them, so easily +forgets her, that these sort of inconstancies are very frequent.” + +[Illustration: + + “Offended two or three young ladies” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +“An excellent consolation in its way,” said Elizabeth; “but it will not +do for _us_. We do not suffer by accident. It does not often happen +that the interference of friends will persuade a young man of +independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he was violently in +love with only a few days before.” + +“But that expression of ‘violently in love’ is so hackneyed, so +doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me very little idea. It is as +often applied to feelings which arise only from a half hour’s +acquaintance, as to a real, strong attachment. Pray, how _violent was_ +Mr. Bingley’s love?” + +“I never saw a more promising inclination; he was growing quite +inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by her. Every time +they met, it was more decided and remarkable. At his own ball he +offended two or three young ladies by not asking them to dance; and I +spoke to him twice myself without receiving an answer. Could there be +finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?” + +“Oh, yes! of that kind of love which I suppose him to have felt. Poor +Jane! I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she may not get +over it immediately. It had better have happened to _you_, Lizzy; you +would have laughed yourself out of it sooner. But do you think she would +be prevailed on to go back with us? Change of scene might be of +service--and perhaps a little relief from home may be as useful as +anything.” + +Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, and felt persuaded +of her sister’s ready acquiescence. + +“I hope,” added Mrs. Gardiner, “that no consideration with regard to +this young man will influence her. We live in so different a part of +town, all our connections are so different, and, as you well know, we go +out so little, that it is very improbable they should meet at all, +unless he really comes to see her.” + +“And _that_ is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his +friend, and Mr. Darcy would no more suffer him to call on Jane in such a +part of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr. Darcy may, +perhaps, have _heard_ of such a place as Gracechurch Street, but he +would hardly think a month’s ablution enough to cleanse him from its +impurities, were he once to enter it; and, depend upon it, Mr. Bingley +never stirs without him.” + +“So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does not Jane +correspond with his sister? _She_ will not be able to help calling.” + +“She will drop the acquaintance entirely.” + +But, in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place this +point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley’s being +withheld from seeing Jane, she felt a solicitude on the subject which +convinced her, on examination, that she did not consider it entirely +hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes she thought it probable, that +his affection might be re-animated, and the influence of his friends +successfully combated by the more natural influence of Jane’s +attractions. + +Miss Bennet accepted her aunt’s invitation with pleasure; and the +Bingleys were no otherwise in her thoughts at the same time than as she +hoped, by Caroline’s not living in the same house with her brother, she +might occasionally spend a morning with her, without any danger of +seeing him. + +The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn; and what with the Philipses, +the Lucases, and the officers, there was not a day without its +engagement. Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided for the entertainment +of her brother and sister, that they did not once sit down to a family +dinner. When the engagement was for home, some of the officers always +made part of it, of which officers Mr. Wickham was sure to be one; and +on these occasions Mrs. Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Elizabeth’s +warm commendation of him, narrowly observed them both. Without supposing +them, from what she saw, to be very seriously in love, their preference +of each other was plain enough to make her a little uneasy; and she +resolved to speak to Elizabeth on the subject before she left +Hertfordshire, and represent to her the imprudence of encouraging such +an attachment. + +To Mrs. Gardiner, Wickham had one means of affording pleasure, +unconnected with his general powers. About ten or a dozen years ago, +before her marriage, she had spent a considerable time in that very part +of Derbyshire to which he belonged. They had, therefore, many +acquaintance in common; and, though Wickham had been little there since +the death of Darcy’s father, five years before, it was yet in his power +to give her fresher intelligence of her former friends than she had been +in the way of procuring. + +Mrs. Gardiner had seen Pemberley, and known the late Mr. Darcy by +character perfectly well. Here, consequently, was an inexhaustible +subject of discourse. In comparing her recollection of Pemberley with +the minute description which Wickham could give, and in bestowing her +tribute of praise on the character of its late possessor, she was +delighting both him and herself. On being made acquainted with the +present Mr. Darcy’s treatment of him, she tried to remember something of +that gentleman’s reputed disposition, when quite a lad, which might +agree with it; and was confident, at last, that she recollected having +heard Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy formerly spoken of as a very proud, +ill-natured boy. + + + + +[Illustration: + + “Will you come and see me?” +] + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + +[Illustration] + +Mrs. Gardiner’s caution to Elizabeth was punctually and kindly given on +the first favourable opportunity of speaking to her alone: after +honestly telling her what she thought, she thus went on:-- + +“You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in love merely because you +are warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of speaking +openly. Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. Do not involve +yourself, or endeavour to involve him, in an affection which the want of +fortune would make so very imprudent. I have nothing to say against +_him_: he is a most interesting young man; and if he had the fortune he +ought to have, I should think you could not do better. But as it is--you +must not let your fancy run away with you. You have sense, and we all +expect you to use it. Your father would depend on _your_ resolution and +good conduct, I am sure. You must not disappoint your father.” + +“My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed.” + +“Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise.” + +“Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care of +myself, and of Mr. Wickham too. He shall not be in love with me, if I +can prevent it.” + +“Elizabeth, you are not serious now.” + +“I beg your pardon. I will try again. At present I am not in love with +Mr. Wickham; no, I certainly am not. But he is, beyond all comparison, +the most agreeable man I ever saw--and if he becomes really attached to +me--I believe it will be better that he should not. I see the imprudence +of it. Oh, _that_ abominable Mr. Darcy! My father’s opinion of me does +me the greatest honour; and I should be miserable to forfeit it. My +father, however, is partial to Mr. Wickham. In short, my dear aunt, I +should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy; but +since we see, every day, that where there is affection young people are +seldom withheld, by immediate want of fortune, from entering into +engagements with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so many +of my fellow-creatures, if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that +it would be wiser to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is +not to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his +first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In +short, I will do my best.” + +“Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so very +often. At least you should not _remind_ your mother of inviting him.” + +“As I did the other day,” said Elizabeth, with a conscious smile; “very +true, it will be wise in me to refrain from _that_. But do not imagine +that he is always here so often. It is on your account that he has been +so frequently invited this week. You know my mother’s ideas as to the +necessity of constant company for her friends. But really, and upon my +honour, I will try to do what I think to be wisest; and now I hope you +are satisfied.” + +Her aunt assured her that she was; and Elizabeth, having thanked her for +the kindness of her hints, they parted,--a wonderful instance of advice +being given on such a point without being resented. + +Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had been quitted +by the Gardiners and Jane; but, as he took up his abode with the +Lucases, his arrival was no great inconvenience to Mrs. Bennet. His +marriage was now fast approaching; and she was at length so far resigned +as to think it inevitable, and even repeatedly to say, in an ill-natured +tone, that she “_wished_ they might be happy.” Thursday was to be the +wedding-day, and on Wednesday Miss Lucas paid her farewell visit; and +when she rose to take leave, Elizabeth, ashamed of her mother’s +ungracious and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected herself, +accompanied her out of the room. As they went down stairs together, +Charlotte said,-- + +“I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza.” + +“_That_ you certainly shall.” + +“And I have another favour to ask. Will you come and see me?” + +“We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire.” + +“I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, therefore, to +come to Hunsford.” + +Elizabeth could not refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure in the +visit. + +“My father and Maria are to come to me in March,” added Charlotte, “and +I hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will be +as welcome to me as either of them.” + +The wedding took place: the bride and bridegroom set off for Kent from +the church door, and everybody had as much to say or to hear on the +subject as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from her friend, and their +correspondence was as regular and frequent as it ever had been: that it +should be equally unreserved was impossible. Elizabeth could never +address her without feeling that all the comfort of intimacy was over; +and, though determined not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for the +sake of what had been rather than what was. Charlotte’s first letters +were received with a good deal of eagerness: there could not but be +curiosity to know how she would speak of her new home, how she would +like Lady Catherine, and how happy she would dare pronounce herself to +be; though, when the letters were read, Elizabeth felt that Charlotte +expressed herself on every point exactly as she might have foreseen. She +wrote cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing +which she could not praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, and +roads, were all to her taste, and Lady Catherine’s behaviour was most +friendly and obliging. It was Mr. Collins’s picture of Hunsford and +Rosings rationally softened; and Elizabeth perceived that she must wait +for her own visit there, to know the rest. + +Jane had already written a few lines to her sister, to announce their +safe arrival in London; and when she wrote again, Elizabeth hoped it +would be in her power to say something of the Bingleys. + +Her impatience for this second letter was as well rewarded as impatience +generally is. Jane had been a week in town, without either seeing or +hearing from Caroline. She accounted for it, however, by supposing that +her last letter to her friend from Longbourn had by some accident been +lost. + +“My aunt,” she continued, “is going to-morrow into that part of the +town, and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor Street.” + +She wrote again when the visit was paid, and she had seen Miss Bingley. +“I did not think Caroline in spirits,” were her words, “but she was very +glad to see me, and reproached me for giving her no notice of my coming +to London. I was right, therefore; my last letter had never reached her. +I inquired after their brother, of course. He was well, but so much +engaged with Mr. Darcy that they scarcely ever saw him. I found that +Miss Darcy was expected to dinner: I wish I could see her. My visit was +not long, as Caroline and Mrs. Hurst were going out. I dare say I shall +soon see them here.” + +Elizabeth shook her head over this letter. It convinced her that +accident only could discover to Mr. Bingley her sister’s being in town. + +Four weeks passed away, and Jane saw nothing of him. She endeavoured to +persuade herself that she did not regret it; but she could no longer be +blind to Miss Bingley’s inattention. After waiting at home every morning +for a fortnight, and inventing every evening a fresh excuse for her, the +visitor did at last appear; but the shortness of her stay, and, yet +more, the alteration of her manner, would allow Jane to deceive herself +no longer. The letter which she wrote on this occasion to her sister +will prove what she felt:-- + + “My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, be incapable of triumphing in + her better judgment, at my expense, when I confess myself to have + been entirely deceived in Miss Bingley’s regard for me. But, my + dear sister, though the event has proved you right, do not think me + obstinate if I still assert that, considering what her behaviour + was, my confidence was as natural as your suspicion. I do not at + all comprehend her reason for wishing to be intimate with me; but, + if the same circumstances were to happen again, I am sure I should + be deceived again. Caroline did not return my visit till yesterday; + and not a note, not a line, did I receive in the meantime. When she + did come, it was very evident that she had no pleasure in it; she + made a slight, formal apology for not calling before, said not a + word of wishing to see me again, and was, in every respect, so + altered a creature, that when she went away I was perfectly + resolved to continue the acquaintance no longer. I pity, though I + cannot help blaming, her. She was very wrong in singling me out as + she did; I can safely say, that every advance to intimacy began on + her side. But I pity her, because she must feel that she has been + acting wrong, and because I am very sure that anxiety for her + brother is the cause of it. I need not explain myself farther; and + though _we_ know this anxiety to be quite needless, yet if she + feels it, it will easily account for her behaviour to me; and so + deservedly dear as he is to his sister, whatever anxiety she may + feel on his behalf is natural and amiable. I cannot but wonder, + however, at her having any such fears now, because if he had at all + cared about me, we must have met long, long ago. He knows of my + being in town, I am certain, from something she said herself; and + yet it would seem, by her manner of talking, as if she wanted to + persuade herself that he is really partial to Miss Darcy. I cannot + understand it. If I were not afraid of judging harshly, I should be + almost tempted to say, that there is a strong appearance of + duplicity in all this. I will endeavour to banish every painful + thought, and think only of what will make me happy, your affection, + and the invariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me hear + from you very soon. Miss Bingley said something of his never + returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, but not + with any certainty. We had better not mention it. I am extremely + glad that you have such pleasant accounts from our friends at + Hunsford. Pray go to see them, with Sir William and Maria. I am + sure you will be very comfortable there. + +“Yours, etc.” + +This letter gave Elizabeth some pain; but her spirits returned, as she +considered that Jane would no longer be duped, by the sister at least. +All expectation from the brother was now absolutely over. She would not +even wish for any renewal of his attentions. His character sunk on every +review of it; and, as a punishment for him, as well as a possible +advantage to Jane, she seriously hoped he might really soon marry Mr. +Darcy’s sister, as, by Wickham’s account, she would make him abundantly +regret what he had thrown away. + +Mrs. Gardiner about this time reminded Elizabeth of her promise +concerning that gentleman, and required information; and Elizabeth had +such to send as might rather give contentment to her aunt than to +herself. His apparent partiality had subsided, his attentions were over, +he was the admirer of some one else. Elizabeth was watchful enough to +see it all, but she could see it and write of it without material pain. +Her heart had been but slightly touched, and her vanity was satisfied +with believing that _she_ would have been his only choice, had fortune +permitted it. The sudden acquisition of ten thousand pounds was the most +remarkable charm of the young lady to whom he was now rendering himself +agreeable; but Elizabeth, less clear-sighted perhaps in this case than +in Charlotte’s, did not quarrel with him for his wish of independence. +Nothing, on the contrary, could be more natural; and, while able to +suppose that it cost him a few struggles to relinquish her, she was +ready to allow it a wise and desirable measure for both, and could very +sincerely wish him happy. + +All this was acknowledged to Mrs. Gardiner; and, after relating the +circumstances, she thus went on:--“I am now convinced, my dear aunt, +that I have never been much in love; for had I really experienced that +pure and elevating passion, I should at present detest his very name, +and wish him all manner of evil. But my feelings are not only cordial +towards _him_, they are even impartial towards Miss King. I cannot find +out that I hate her at all, or that I am in the least unwilling to think +her a very good sort of girl. There can be no love in all this. My +watchfulness has been effectual; and though I should certainly be a more +interesting object to all my acquaintance, were I distractedly in love +with him, I cannot say that I regret my comparative insignificance. +Importance may sometimes be purchased too dearly. Kitty and Lydia take +his defection much more to heart than I do. They are young in the ways +of the world, and not yet open to the mortifying conviction that +handsome young men must have something to live on as well as the +plain.” + + + + +[Illustration: + + “On the Stairs” +] + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + +[Illustration] + +With no greater events than these in the Longbourn family, and otherwise +diversified by little beyond the walks to Meryton, sometimes dirty and +sometimes cold, did January and February pass away. March was to take +Elizabeth to Hunsford. She had not at first thought very seriously of +going thither; but Charlotte, she soon found, was depending on the +plan, and she gradually learned to consider it herself with greater +pleasure as well as greater certainty. Absence had increased her desire +of seeing Charlotte again, and weakened her disgust of Mr. Collins. +There was novelty in the scheme; and as, with such a mother and such +uncompanionable sisters, home could not be faultless, a little change +was not unwelcome for its own sake. The journey would, moreover, give +her a peep at Jane; and, in short, as the time drew near, she would have +been very sorry for any delay. Everything, however, went on smoothly, +and was finally settled according to Charlotte’s first sketch. She was +to accompany Sir William and his second daughter. The improvement of +spending a night in London was added in time, and the plan became as +perfect as plan could be. + +The only pain was in leaving her father, who would certainly miss her, +and who, when it came to the point, so little liked her going, that he +told her to write to him, and almost promised to answer her letter. + +The farewell between herself and Mr. Wickham was perfectly friendly; on +his side even more. His present pursuit could not make him forget that +Elizabeth had been the first to excite and to deserve his attention, the +first to listen and to pity, the first to be admired; and in his manner +of bidding her adieu, wishing her every enjoyment, reminding her of what +she was to expect in Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and trusting their +opinion of her--their opinion of everybody--would always coincide, there +was a solicitude, an interest, which she felt must ever attach her to +him with a most sincere regard; and she parted from him convinced, that, +whether married or single, he must always be her model of the amiable +and pleasing. + +Her fellow-travellers the next day were not of a kind to make her think +him less agreeable. Sir William Lucas, and his daughter Maria, a +good-humoured girl, but as empty-headed as himself, had nothing to say +that could be worth hearing, and were listened to with about as much +delight as the rattle of the chaise. Elizabeth loved absurdities, but +she had known Sir William’s too long. He could tell her nothing new of +the wonders of his presentation and knighthood; and his civilities were +worn out, like his information. + +It was a journey of only twenty-four miles, and they began it so early +as to be in Gracechurch Street by noon. As they drove to Mr. Gardiner’s +door, Jane was at a drawing-room window watching their arrival: when +they entered the passage, she was there to welcome them, and Elizabeth, +looking earnestly in her face, was pleased to see it healthful and +lovely as ever. On the stairs were a troop of little boys and girls, +whose eagerness for their cousin’s appearance would not allow them to +wait in the drawing-room, and whose shyness, as they had not seen her +for a twelvemonth, prevented their coming lower. All was joy and +kindness. The day passed most pleasantly away; the morning in bustle and +shopping, and the evening at one of the theatres. + +Elizabeth then contrived to sit by her aunt. Their first subject was her +sister; and she was more grieved than astonished to hear, in reply to +her minute inquiries, that though Jane always struggled to support her +spirits, there were periods of dejection. It was reasonable, however, to +hope that they would not continue long. Mrs. Gardiner gave her the +particulars also of Miss Bingley’s visit in Gracechurch Street, and +repeated conversations occurring at different times between Jane and +herself, which proved that the former had, from her heart, given up the +acquaintance. + +Mrs. Gardiner then rallied her niece on Wickham’s desertion, and +complimented her on bearing it so well. + +“But, my dear Elizabeth,” she added, “what sort of girl is Miss King? I +should be sorry to think our friend mercenary.” + +“Pray, my dear aunt, what is the difference in matrimonial affairs, +between the mercenary and the prudent motive? Where does discretion end, +and avarice begin? Last Christmas you were afraid of his marrying me, +because it would be imprudent; and now, because he is trying to get a +girl with only ten thousand pounds, you want to find out that he is +mercenary.” + +“If you will only tell me what sort of girl Miss King is, I shall know +what to think.” + +“She is a very good kind of girl, I believe. I know no harm of her.” + +“But he paid her not the smallest attention till her grandfather’s death +made her mistress of this fortune?” + +“No--why should he? If it were not allowable for him to gain _my_ +affections, because I had no money, what occasion could there be for +making love to a girl whom he did not care about, and who was equally +poor?” + +“But there seems indelicacy in directing his attentions towards her so +soon after this event.” + +“A man in distressed circumstances has not time for all those elegant +decorums which other people may observe. If _she_ does not object to it, +why should _we_?” + +“_Her_ not objecting does not justify _him_. It only shows her being +deficient in something herself--sense or feeling.” + +“Well,” cried Elizabeth, “have it as you choose. _He_ shall be +mercenary, and _she_ shall be foolish.” + +“No, Lizzy, that is what I do _not_ choose. I should be sorry, you know, +to think ill of a young man who has lived so long in Derbyshire.” + +“Oh, if that is all, I have a very poor opinion of young men who live in +Derbyshire; and their intimate friends who live in Hertfordshire are not +much better. I am sick of them all. Thank heaven! I am going to-morrow +where I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who has +neither manners nor sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones +worth knowing, after all.” + +“Take care, Lizzy; that speech savours strongly of disappointment.” + +Before they were separated by the conclusion of the play, she had the +unexpected happiness of an invitation to accompany her uncle and aunt in +a tour of pleasure which they proposed taking in the summer. + +“We have not quite determined how far it shall carry us,” said Mrs. +Gardiner; “but perhaps, to the Lakes.” + +No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, and her +acceptance of the invitation was most ready and grateful. “My dear, dear +aunt,” she rapturously cried, “what delight! what felicity! You give me +fresh life and vigour. Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What are men +to rocks and mountains? Oh, what hours of transport we shall spend! And +when we _do_ return, it shall not be like other travellers, without +being able to give one accurate idea of anything. We _will_ know where +we have gone--we _will_ recollect what we have seen. Lakes, mountains, +and rivers, shall not be jumbled together in our imaginations; nor, when +we attempt to describe any particular scene, will we begin quarrelling +about its relative situation. Let _our_ first effusions be less +insupportable than those of the generality of travellers.” + + + + +[Illustration: + + “At the door” +] + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + +[Illustration] + +Every object in the next day’s journey was new and interesting to +Elizabeth; and her spirits were in a state of enjoyment; for she had +seen her sister looking so well as to banish all fear for her health, +and the prospect of her northern tour was a constant source of delight. + +When they left the high road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye was in +search of the Parsonage, and every turning expected to bring it in view. +The paling of Rosings park was their boundary on one side. Elizabeth +smiled at the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants. + +At length the Parsonage was discernible. The garden sloping to the +road, the house standing in it, the green pales and the laurel hedge, +everything declared they were arriving. Mr. Collins and Charlotte +appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at the small gate, which +led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and smiles of +the whole party. In a moment they were all out of the chaise, rejoicing +at the sight of each other. Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend with the +liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with +coming, when she found herself so affectionately received. She saw +instantly that her cousin’s manners were not altered by his marriage: +his formal civility was just what it had been; and he detained her some +minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his inquiries after all her +family. They were then, with no other delay than his pointing out the +neatness of the entrance, taken into the house; and as soon as they were +in the parlour, he welcomed them a second time, with ostentatious +formality, to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his wife’s +offers of refreshment. + +Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; and she could not help +fancying that in displaying the good proportion of the room, its aspect, +and its furniture, he addressed himself particularly to her, as if +wishing to make her feel what she had lost in refusing him. But though +everything seemed neat and comfortable, she was not able to gratify him +by any sigh of repentance; and rather looked with wonder at her friend, +that she could have so cheerful an air with such a companion. When Mr. +Collins said anything of which his wife might reasonably be ashamed, +which certainly was not seldom, she involuntarily turned her eye on +Charlotte. Once or twice she could discern a faint blush; but in general +Charlotte wisely did not hear. After sitting long enough to admire +every article of furniture in the room, from the sideboard to the +fender, to give an account of their journey, and of all that had +happened in London, Mr. Collins invited them to take a stroll in the +garden, which was large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of +which he attended himself. To work in his garden was one of his most +respectable pleasures; and Elizabeth admired the command of countenance +with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of the exercise, and +owned she encouraged it as much as possible. Here, leading the way +through every walk and cross walk, and scarcely allowing them an +interval to utter the praises he asked for, every view was pointed out +with a minuteness which left beauty entirely behind. He could number the +fields in every direction, and could tell how many trees there were in +the most distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, or which +the country or the kingdom could boast, none were to be compared with +the prospect of Rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees that +bordered the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It was a +handsome modern building, well situated on rising ground. + +From his garden, Mr. Collins would have led them round his two meadows; +but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter the remains of a white +frost, turned back; and while Sir William accompanied him, Charlotte +took her sister and friend over the house, extremely well pleased, +probably, to have the opportunity of showing it without her husband’s +help. It was rather small, but well built and convenient; and everything +was fitted up and arranged with a neatness and consistency, of which +Elizabeth gave Charlotte all the credit. When Mr. Collins could be +forgotten, there was really a great air of comfort throughout, and by +Charlotte’s evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed he must be often +forgotten. + +She had already learnt that Lady Catherine was still in the country. It +was spoken of again while they were at dinner, when Mr. Collins joining +in, observed,-- + +“Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing Lady Catherine +de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I need not say you will +be delighted with her. She is all affability and condescension, and I +doubt not but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice when +service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying that she will +include you and my sister Maria in every invitation with which she +honours us during your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is +charming. We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to +walk home. Her Ladyship’s carriage is regularly ordered for us. I +_should_ say, one of her Ladyship’s carriages, for she has several.” + +“Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman, indeed,” added +Charlotte, “and a most attentive neighbour.” + +“Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is the sort of +woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference.” + +The evening was spent chiefly in talking over Hertfordshire news, and +telling again what had been already written; and when it closed, +Elizabeth, in the solitude of her chamber, had to meditate upon +Charlotte’s degree of contentment, to understand her address in guiding, +and composure in bearing with, her husband, and to acknowledge that it +was all done very well. She had also to anticipate how her visit would +pass, the quiet tenour of their usual employments, the vexatious +interruptions of Mr. Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse +with Rosings. A lively imagination soon settled it all. + +About the middle of the next day, as she was in her room getting ready +for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to speak the whole house in +confusion; and, after listening a moment, she heard somebody running +upstairs in a violent hurry, and calling loudly after her. She opened +the door, and met Maria in the landing-place, who, breathless with +agitation, cried out,-- + +[Illustration: + + “In Conversation with the ladies” + +[Copyright 1894 by George Allen.]] + +“Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come into the dining-room, for +there is such a sight to be seen! I will not tell you what it is. Make +haste, and come down this moment.” + +Elizabeth asked questions in vain; Maria would tell her nothing more; +and down they ran into the dining-room which fronted the lane, in quest +of this wonder; it was two ladies, stopping in a low phaeton at the +garden gate. + +“And is this all?” cried Elizabeth. “I expected at least that the pigs +were got into the garden, and here is nothing but Lady Catherine and her +daughter!” + +“La! my dear,” said Maria, quite shocked at the mistake, “it is not Lady +Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives with them. The +other is Miss De Bourgh. Only look at her. She is quite a little +creature. Who would have thought she could be so thin and small!” + +“She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors in all this wind. +Why does she not come in?” + +“Oh, Charlotte says she hardly ever does. It is the greatest of favours +when Miss De Bourgh comes in.” + +“I like her appearance,” said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas. “She +looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will +make him a very proper wife.” + +Mr. Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the gate in conversation +with the ladies; and Sir William, to Elizabeth’s high diversion, was +stationed in the doorway, in earnest contemplation of the greatness +before him, and constantly bowing whenever Miss De Bourgh looked that +way. + +At length there was nothing more to be said; the ladies drove on, and +the others returned into the house. Mr. Collins no sooner saw the two +girls than he began to congratulate them on their good fortune, which +Charlotte explained by letting them know that the whole party was asked +to dine at Rosings the next day. + + + + +[Illustration: + + ‘Lady Catherine, said she, you have given me a treasure.’ + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + +[Illustration] + +Mr. Collins’s triumph, in consequence of this invitation, was complete. +The power of displaying the grandeur of his patroness to his wondering +visitors, and of letting them see her civility towards himself and his +wife, was exactly what he had wished for; and that an opportunity of +doing it should be given so soon was such an instance of Lady +Catherine’s condescension as he knew not how to admire enough. + +“I confess,” said he, “that I should not have been at all surprised by +her Ladyship’s asking us on Sunday to drink tea and spend the evening +at Rosings. I rather expected, from my knowledge of her affability, that +it would happen. But who could have foreseen such an attention as this? +Who could have imagined that we should receive an invitation to dine +there (an invitation, moreover, including the whole party) so +immediately after your arrival?” + +“I am the less surprised at what has happened,” replied Sir William, +“from that knowledge of what the manners of the great really are, which +my situation in life has allowed me to acquire. About the court, such +instances of elegant breeding are not uncommon.” + +Scarcely anything was talked of the whole day or next morning but their +visit to Rosings. Mr. Collins was carefully instructing them in what +they were to expect, that the sight of such rooms, so many servants, and +so splendid a dinner, might not wholly overpower them. + +When the ladies were separating for the toilette, he said to +Elizabeth,-- + +“Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your apparel. Lady +Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of dress in us which +becomes herself and daughter. I would advise you merely to put on +whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest--there is no occasion +for anything more. Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you for +being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank +preserved.” + +While they were dressing, he came two or three times to their different +doors, to recommend their being quick, as Lady Catherine very much +objected to be kept waiting for her dinner. Such formidable accounts of +her Ladyship, and her manner of living, quite frightened Maria Lucas, +who had been little used to company; and she looked forward to her +introduction at Rosings with as much apprehension as her father had done +to his presentation at St. James’s. + +As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk of about half a mile +across the park. Every park has its beauty and its prospects; and +Elizabeth saw much to be pleased with, though she could not be in such +raptures as Mr. Collins expected the scene to inspire, and was but +slightly affected by his enumeration of the windows in front of the +house, and his relation of what the glazing altogether had originally +cost Sir Lewis de Bourgh. + +When they ascended the steps to the hall, Maria’s alarm was every moment +increasing, and even Sir William did not look perfectly calm. +Elizabeth’s courage did not fail her. She had heard nothing of Lady +Catherine that spoke her awful from any extraordinary talents or +miraculous virtue, and the mere stateliness of money and rank she +thought she could witness without trepidation. + +From the entrance hall, of which Mr. Collins pointed out, with a +rapturous air, the fine proportion and finished ornaments, they followed +the servants through an antechamber to the room where Lady Catherine, +her daughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson were sitting. Her Ladyship, with great +condescension, arose to receive them; and as Mrs. Collins had settled it +with her husband that the office of introduction should be hers, it was +performed in a proper manner, without any of those apologies and thanks +which he would have thought necessary. + +In spite of having been at St. James’s, Sir William was so completely +awed by the grandeur surrounding him, that he had but just courage +enough to make a very low bow, and take his seat without saying a word; +and his daughter, frightened almost out of her senses, sat on the edge +of her chair, not knowing which way to look. Elizabeth found herself +quite equal to the scene, and could observe the three ladies before her +composedly. Lady Catherine was a tall, large woman, with strongly-marked +features, which might once have been handsome. Her air was not +conciliating, nor was her manner of receiving them such as to make her +visitors forget their inferior rank. She was not rendered formidable by +silence: but whatever she said was spoken in so authoritative a tone as +marked her self-importance, and brought Mr. Wickham immediately to +Elizabeth’s mind; and, from the observation of the day altogether, she +believed Lady Catherine to be exactly what he had represented. + +When, after examining the mother, in whose countenance and deportment +she soon found some resemblance of Mr. Darcy, she turned her eyes on the +daughter, she could almost have joined in Maria’s astonishment at her +being so thin and so small. There was neither in figure nor face any +likeness between the ladies. Miss de Bourgh was pale and sickly: her +features, though not plain, were insignificant; and she spoke very +little, except in a low voice, to Mrs. Jenkinson, in whose appearance +there was nothing remarkable, and who was entirely engaged in listening +to what she said, and placing a screen in the proper direction before +her eyes. + +After sitting a few minutes, they were all sent to one of the windows to +admire the view, Mr. Collins attending them to point out its beauties, +and Lady Catherine kindly informing them that it was much better worth +looking at in the summer. + +The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were all the servants, +and all the articles of plate which Mr. Collins had promised; and, as he +had likewise foretold, he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by +her Ladyship’s desire, and looked as if he felt that life could furnish +nothing greater. He carved and ate and praised with delighted alacrity; +and every dish was commended first by him, and then by Sir William, who +was now enough recovered to echo whatever his son-in-law said, in a +manner which Elizabeth wondered Lady Catherine could bear. But Lady +Catherine seemed gratified by their excessive admiration, and gave most +gracious smiles, especially when any dish on the table proved a novelty +to them. The party did not supply much conversation. Elizabeth was ready +to speak whenever there was an opening, but she was seated between +Charlotte and Miss de Bourgh--the former of whom was engaged in +listening to Lady Catherine, and the latter said not a word to her all +the dinnertime. Mrs. Jenkinson was chiefly employed in watching how +little Miss de Bourgh ate, pressing her to try some other dish and +fearing she was indisposed. Maria thought speaking out of the question, +and the gentlemen did nothing but eat and admire. + +When the ladies returned to the drawing-room, there was little to be +done but to hear Lady Catherine talk, which she did without any +intermission till coffee came in, delivering her opinion on every +subject in so decisive a manner as proved that she was not used to have +her judgment controverted. She inquired into Charlotte’s domestic +concerns familiarly and minutely, and gave her a great deal of advice as +to the management of them all; told her how everything ought to be +regulated in so small a family as hers, and instructed her as to the +care of her cows and her poultry. Elizabeth found that nothing was +beneath this great lady’s attention which could furnish her with an +occasion for dictating to others. In the intervals of her discourse with +Mrs. Collins, she addressed a variety of questions to Maria and +Elizabeth, but especially to the latter, of whose connections she knew +the least, and who, she observed to Mrs. Collins, was a very genteel, +pretty kind of girl. She asked her at different times how many sisters +she had, whether they were older or younger than herself, whether any of +them were likely to be married, whether they were handsome, where they +had been educated, what carriage her father kept, and what had been her +mother’s maiden name? Elizabeth felt all the impertinence of her +questions, but answered them very composedly. Lady Catherine then +observed,-- + +“Your father’s estate is entailed on Mr. Collins, I think? For your +sake,” turning to Charlotte, “I am glad of it; but otherwise I see no +occasion for entailing estates from the female line. It was not thought +necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s family. Do you play and sing, Miss +Bennet?” + +“A little.” + +“Oh then--some time or other we shall be happy to hear you. Our +instrument is a capital one, probably superior to ---- you shall try it +some day. Do your sisters play and sing?” + +“One of them does.” + +“Why did not you all learn? You ought all to have learned. The Miss +Webbs all play, and their father has not so good an income as yours. Do +you draw?” + +“No, not at all.” + +“What, none of you?” + +“Not one.” + +“That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother +should have taken you to town every spring for the benefit of masters.” + +“My mother would have no objection, but my father hates London.” + +“Has your governess left you?” + +“We never had any governess.” + +“No governess! How was that possible? Five daughters brought up at home +without a governess! I never heard of such a thing. Your mother must +have been quite a slave to your education.” + +Elizabeth could hardly help smiling, as she assured her that had not +been the case. + +“Then who taught you? who attended to you? Without a governess, you must +have been neglected.” + +“Compared with some families, I believe we were; but such of us as +wished to learn never wanted the means. We were always encouraged to +read, and had all the masters that were necessary. Those who chose to be +idle certainly might.” + +“Ay, no doubt: but that is what a governess will prevent; and if I had +known your mother, I should have advised her most strenuously to engage +one. I always say that nothing is to be done in education without steady +and regular instruction, and nobody but a governess can give it. It is +wonderful how many families I have been the means of supplying in that +way. I am always glad to get a young person well placed out. Four nieces +of Mrs. Jenkinson are most delightfully situated through my means; and +it was but the other day that I recommended another young person, who +was merely accidentally mentioned to me, and the family are quite +delighted with her. Mrs. Collins, did I tell you of Lady Metcalfe’s +calling yesterday to thank me? She finds Miss Pope a treasure. ‘Lady +Catherine,’ said she, ‘you have given me a treasure.’ Are any of your +younger sisters out, Miss Bennet?” + +“Yes, ma’am, all.” + +“All! What, all five out at once? Very odd! And you only the second. The +younger ones out before the elder are married! Your younger sisters must +be very young?” + +“Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps _she_ is full young to be much +in company. But really, ma’am, I think it would be very hard upon +younger sisters that they should not have their share of society and +amusement, because the elder may not have the means or inclination to +marry early. The last born has as good a right to the pleasures of youth +as the first. And to be kept back on _such_ a motive! I think it would +not be very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind.” + +“Upon my word,” said her Ladyship, “you give your opinion very decidedly +for so young a person. Pray, what is your age?” + +“With three younger sisters grown up,” replied Elizabeth, smiling, “your +Ladyship can hardly expect me to own it.” + +Lady Catherine seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct answer; +and Elizabeth suspected herself to be the first creature who had ever +dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence. + +“You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure,--therefore you need not +conceal your age.” + +“I am not one-and-twenty.” + +When the gentlemen had joined them, and tea was over, the card tables +were placed. Lady Catherine, Sir William, and Mr. and Mrs. Collins sat +down to quadrille; and as Miss De Bourgh chose to play at cassino, the +two girls had the honour of assisting Mrs. Jenkinson to make up her +party. Their table was superlatively stupid. Scarcely a syllable was +uttered that did not relate to the game, except when Mrs. Jenkinson +expressed her fears of Miss De Bourgh’s being too hot or too cold, or +having too much or too little light. A great deal more passed at the +other table. Lady Catherine was generally speaking--stating the mistakes +of the three others, or relating some anecdote of herself. Mr. Collins +was employed in agreeing to everything her Ladyship said, thanking her +for every fish he won, and apologizing if he thought he won too many. +Sir William did not say much. He was storing his memory with anecdotes +and noble names. + +When Lady Catherine and her daughter had played as long as they chose, +the tables were broken up, the carriage was offered to Mrs. Collins, +gratefully accepted, and immediately ordered. The party then gathered +round the fire to hear Lady Catherine determine what weather they were +to have on the morrow. From these instructions they were summoned by the +arrival of the coach; and with many speeches of thankfulness on Mr. +Collins’s side, and as many bows on Sir William’s, they departed. As +soon as they had driven from the door, Elizabeth was called on by her +cousin to give her opinion of all that she had seen at Rosings, which, +for Charlotte’s sake, she made more favourable than it really was. But +her commendation, though costing her some trouble, could by no means +satisfy Mr. Collins, and he was very soon obliged to take her Ladyship’s +praise into his own hands. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + +[Illustration] + +Sir William stayed only a week at Hunsford; but his visit was long +enough to convince him of his daughter’s being most comfortably settled, +and of her possessing such a husband and such a neighbour as were not +often met with. While Sir William was with them, Mr. Collins devoted his +mornings to driving him out in his gig, and showing him the country: but +when he went away, the whole family returned to their usual employments, +and Elizabeth was thankful to find that they did not see more of her +cousin by the alteration; for the chief of the time between breakfast +and dinner was now passed by him either at work in the garden, or in +reading and writing, and looking out of window in his own book room, +which fronted the road. The room in which the ladies sat was backwards. +Elizabeth at first had rather wondered that Charlotte should not prefer +the dining parlour for common use; it was a better sized room, and had a +pleasanter aspect: but she soon saw that her friend had an excellent +reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been +much less in his own apartment had they sat in one equally lively; and +she gave Charlotte credit for the arrangement. + +From the drawing-room they could distinguish nothing in the lane, and +were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of what carriages went +along, and how often especially Miss De Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, +which he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened +almost every day. She not unfrequently stopped at the Parsonage, and had +a few minutes’ conversation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever +prevailed on to get out. + +Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did not walk to Rosings, and +not many in which his wife did not think it necessary to go likewise; +and till Elizabeth recollected that there might be other family livings +to be disposed of, she could not understand the sacrifice of so many +hours. Now and then they were honoured with a call from her Ladyship, +and nothing escaped her observation that was passing in the room during +these visits. She examined into their employments, looked at their work, +and advised them to do it differently; found fault with the arrangement +of the furniture, or detected the housemaid in negligence; and if she +accepted any refreshment, seemed to do it only for the sake of finding +out that Mrs. Collins’s joints of meat were too large for her family. + +Elizabeth soon perceived, that though this great lady was not in the +commission of the peace for the county, she was a most active magistrate +in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which were carried to her by +Mr. Collins; and whenever any of the cottagers were disposed to be +quarrelsome, discontented, or too poor, she sallied forth into the +village to settle their differences, silence their complaints, and scold +them into harmony and plenty. + +[Illustration: + + “he never failed to inform them” +] + +The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated about twice a week; +and, allowing for the loss of Sir William, and there being only one +card-table in the evening, every such entertainment was the counterpart +of the first. Their other engagements were few, as the style of living +of the neighbourhood in general was beyond the Collinses’ reach. This, +however, was no evil to Elizabeth, and upon the whole she spent her time +comfortably enough: there were half hours of pleasant conversation with +Charlotte, and the weather was so fine for the time of year, that she +had often great enjoyment out of doors. Her favourite walk, and where +she frequently went while the others were calling on Lady Catherine, was +along the open grove which edged that side of the park, where there was +a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value but herself, and +where she felt beyond the reach of Lady Catherine’s curiosity. + +In this quiet way the first fortnight of her visit soon passed away. +Easter was approaching, and the week preceding it was to bring an +addition to the family at Rosings, which in so small a circle must be +important. Elizabeth had heard, soon after her arrival, that Mr. Darcy +was expected there in the course of a few weeks; and though there were +not many of her acquaintance whom she did not prefer, his coming would +furnish one comparatively new to look at in their Rosings parties, and +she might be amused in seeing how hopeless Miss Bingley’s designs on him +were, by his behaviour to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined +by Lady Catherine, who talked of his coming with the greatest +satisfaction, spoke of him in terms of the highest admiration, and +seemed almost angry to find that he had already been frequently seen by +Miss Lucas and herself. + +His arrival was soon known at the Parsonage; for Mr. Collins was walking +the whole morning within view of the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane, +in order to have + +[Illustration: + +“The gentlemen accompanied him.” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +the earliest assurance of it; and, after making his bow as the carriage +turned into the park, hurried home with the great intelligence. On the +following morning he hastened to Rosings to pay his respects. There were +two nephews of Lady Catherine to require them, for Mr. Darcy had brought +with him a Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of his uncle, Lord ----; +and, to the great surprise of all the party, when Mr. Collins returned, +the gentlemen accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them from her +husband’s room, crossing the road, and immediately running into the +other, told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding,-- + +“I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would +never have come so soon to wait upon me.” + +Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the compliment +before their approach was announced by the door-bell, and shortly +afterwards the three gentlemen entered the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam, +who led the way, was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and +address most truly the gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had been +used to look in Hertfordshire, paid his compliments, with his usual +reserve, to Mrs. Collins; and whatever might be his feelings towards her +friend, met her with every appearance of composure. Elizabeth merely +courtesied to him, without saying a word. + +Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly, with the +readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly; but +his cousin, after having addressed a slight observation on the house and +garden to Mrs. Collins, sat for some time without speaking to anybody. +At length, however, his civility was so far awakened as to inquire of +Elizabeth after the health of her family. She answered him in the usual +way; and, after a moment’s pause, added,-- + +“My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never +happened to see her there?” + +She was perfectly sensible that he never had: but she wished to see +whether he would betray any consciousness of what had passed between the +Bingleys and Jane; and she thought he looked a little confused as he +answered that he had never been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet. The +subject was pursued no further, and the gentlemen soon afterwards went +away. + + + + +[Illustration: + +“At Church” +] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + + +[Illustration] + +Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners were very much admired at the Parsonage, +and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably to the pleasure of +their engagements at Rosings. It was some days, however, before they +received any invitation thither, for while there were visitors in the +house they could not be necessary; and it was not till Easter-day, +almost a week after the gentlemen’s arrival, that they were honoured by +such an attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to +come there in the evening. For the last week they had seen very little +of either Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had called +at the Parsonage more than once during the time, but Mr. Darcy they had +only seen at church. + +The invitation was accepted, of course, and at a proper hour they joined +the party in Lady Catherine’s drawing-room. Her Ladyship received them +civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so +acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, +almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, +much more than to any other person in the room. + +Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them: anything was a +welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins’s pretty friend had, +moreover, caught his fancy very much. He now seated himself by her, and +talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying +at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so +well entertained in that room before; and they conversed with so much +spirit and flow as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself, as +well as of Mr. Darcy. _His_ eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned +towards them with a look of curiosity; and that her Ladyship, after a +while, shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged, for she did not +scruple to call out,-- + +“What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking +of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.” + +“We were talking of music, madam,” said he, when no longer able to avoid +a reply. + +“Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I +must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music. +There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true +enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever +learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her +health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have +performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?” + +Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister’s proficiency. + +“I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,” said Lady +Catherine; “and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel, +if she does not practise a great deal.” + +“I assure you, madam,” he replied, “that she does not need such advice. +She practises very constantly.” + +“So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write +to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often +tell young ladies, that no excellence in music is to be acquired without +constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will +never play really well, unless she practises more; and though Mrs. +Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told +her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. +Jenkinson’s room. She would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part +of the house.” + +Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt’s ill-breeding, and made +no answer. + +When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having +promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to the instrument. He +drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then +talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter walked away from +her, and moving with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte, +stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer’s +countenance. Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first +convenient pause turned to him with an arch smile, and said,-- + +“You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear +me. But I will not be alarmed, though your sister _does_ play so well. +There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at +the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to +intimidate me.” + +“I shall not say that you are mistaken,” he replied, “because you could +not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I +have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know, that you +find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which, in fact, +are not your own.” + +Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to +Colonel Fitzwilliam, “Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of +me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky +in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a +part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree +of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention +all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire--and, give me +leave to say, very impolitic too--for it is provoking me to retaliate, +and such things may come out as will shock your relations to hear.” + +“I am not afraid of you,” said he, smilingly. + +“Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” cried Colonel +Fitzwilliam. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.” + +“You shall hear, then--but prepare for something very dreadful. The +first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at +a ball--and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four +dances! I am sorry to pain you, but so it was. He danced only four +dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more +than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, +you cannot deny the fact.” + +“I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly +beyond my own party.” + +“True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well, Colonel +Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.” + +“Perhaps,” said Darcy, “I should have judged better had I sought an +introduction, but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.” + +“Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” said Elizabeth, still +addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and +education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend +himself to strangers?” + +“I can answer your question,” said Fitzwilliam, “without applying to +him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.” + +“I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy, +“of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot +catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their +concerns, as I often see done.” + +“My fingers,” said Elizabeth, “do not move over this instrument in the +masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same +force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I +have always supposed it to be my own fault--because I would not take +the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe _my_ fingers +as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.” + +Darcy smiled and said, “You are perfectly right. You have employed your +time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you can +think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers.” + +Here they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to know +what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began playing again. +Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, said +to Darcy,-- + +“Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practised more, and +could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion +of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne’s. Anne would have +been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn.” + +Elizabeth looked at Darcy, to see how cordially he assented to his +cousin’s praise: but neither at that moment nor at any other could she +discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss +De Bourgh she derived this comfort for Miss Bingley, that he might have +been just as likely to marry _her_, had she been his relation. + +Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth’s performance, mixing +with them many instructions on execution and taste. Elizabeth received +them with all the forbearance of civility; and at the request of the +gentlemen remained at the instrument till her Ladyship’s carriage was +ready to take them all home. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + + +[Illustration] + +Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Jane, +while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village, +when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a +visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be +Lady Catherine; and under that apprehension was putting away her +half-finished letter, that she might escape all impertinent questions, +when the door opened, and to her very great surprise Mr. Darcy, and Mr. +Darcy only, entered the room. + +He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologized for his +intrusion, by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies to +be within. + +They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings were made, +seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was absolutely +necessary, therefore, to think of something; and in this emergency +recollecting _when_ she had seen him last in Hertfordshire, and feeling +curious to know what he would say on the subject of their hasty +departure, she observed,-- + +“How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy! +It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you +all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day +before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London?” + +“Perfectly so, I thank you.” + +She found that she was to receive no other answer; and, after a short +pause, added,-- + +“I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever +returning to Netherfield again?” + +“I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may spend +very little of his time there in future. He has many friends, and he is +at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually +increasing.” + +“If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the +neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we +might possibly get a settled family there. But, perhaps, Mr. Bingley did +not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as +for his own, and we must expect him to keep or quit it on the same +principle.” + +“I should not be surprised,” said Darcy, “if he were to give it up as +soon as any eligible purchase offers.” + +Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of his +friend; and, having nothing else to say, was now determined to leave the +trouble of finding a subject to him. + +He took the hint and soon began with, “This seems a very comfortable +house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. +Collins first came to Hunsford.” + +“I believe she did--and I am sure she could not have bestowed her +kindness on a more grateful object.” + +“Mr. Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife.” + +“Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of +the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made +him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding--though +I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest +thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however; and, in a +prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her.” + +“It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy a +distance of her own family and friends.” + +“An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles.” + +“And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day’s +journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance.” + +“I should never have considered the distance as one of the _advantages_ +of the match,” cried Elizabeth. “I should never have said Mrs. Collins +was settled _near_ her family.” + +“It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Anything beyond +the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far.” + +As he spoke there was a sort of smile, which Elizabeth fancied she +understood; he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane and +Netherfield, and she blushed as she answered,-- + +“I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her +family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many +varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expense of +travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the +case _here_. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not +such a one as will allow of frequent journeys--and I am persuaded my +friend would not call herself _near_ her family under less than _half_ +the present distance.” + +Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, “_You_ cannot +have a right to such very strong local attachment. _You_ cannot have +been always at Longbourn.” + +Elizabeth looked surprised. The gentleman experienced some change of +feeling; he drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and, +glancing over it, said, in a colder voice,-- + +“Are you pleased with Kent?” + +A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either side +calm and concise--and soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte +and her sister, just returned from their walk. The _tête-à-tête_ +surprised them. Mr. Darcy related the mistake which had occasioned his +intruding on Miss Bennet, and, after sitting a few minutes longer, +without saying much to anybody, went away. + +[Illustration: “Accompanied by their aunt” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +“What can be the meaning of this?” said Charlotte, as soon as he was +gone. “My dear Eliza, he must be in love with you, or he would never +have called on us in this familiar way.” + +But when Elizabeth told of his silence, it did not seem very likely, +even to Charlotte’s wishes, to be the case; and, after various +conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to proceed from +the difficulty of finding anything to do, which was the more probable +from the time of year. All field sports were over. Within doors there +was Lady Catherine, books, and a billiard table, but gentlemen cannot be +always within doors; and in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the +pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the +two cousins found a temptation from this period of walking thither +almost every day. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes +separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied by their +aunt. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he +had pleasure in their society, a persuasion which of course recommended +him still more; and Elizabeth was reminded by her own satisfaction in +being with him, as well as by his evident admiration, of her former +favourite, George Wickham; and though, in comparing them, she saw there +was less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners, she +believed he might have the best informed mind. + +But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage it was more difficult +to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there +ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it +seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice--a sacrifice to +propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He seldom appeared really +animated. Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel +Fitzwilliam’s occasionally laughing at his stupidity proved that he was +generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told +her; and as she would have liked to believe this change the effect of +love, and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she set herself +seriously to work to find it out: she watched him whenever they were at +Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success. He +certainly looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that +look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often +doubted whether there were much admiration in it, and sometimes it +seemed nothing but absence of mind. + +She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of his +being partial to her, but Elizabeth always laughed at the idea; and Mrs. +Collins did not think it right to press the subject, from the danger of +raising expectations which might only end in disappointment; for in her +opinion it admitted not of a doubt, that all her friend’s dislike would +vanish, if she could suppose him to be in her power. + +In her kind schemes for Elizabeth, she sometimes planned her marrying +Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was, beyond comparison, the pleasantest man: he +certainly admired her, and his situation in life was most eligible; but, +to counterbalance these advantages, Mr. Darcy had considerable patronage +in the church, and his cousin could have none at all. + + + + +[Illustration: “On looking up”] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + + +[Illustration] + +More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park, +unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the +mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought; and, to +prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him, at first, +that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, +therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even the third. It seemed like +wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance; for on these occasions it was +not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, +but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He +never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking +or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third +encounter that he was asking some odd unconnected questions--about her +pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her +opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins’s happiness; and that in speaking of +Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to +expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying +_there_ too. His words seemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel +Fitzwilliam in his thoughts? She supposed, if he meant anything, he must +mean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter. It distressed her +a little, and she was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the +pales opposite the Parsonage. + +She was engaged one day, as she walked, in re-perusing Jane’s last +letter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane had not +written in spirits, when, instead of being again surprised by Mr. Darcy, +she saw, on looking up, that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her. +Putting away the letter immediately, and forcing a smile, she said,-- + +“I did not know before that you ever walked this way.” + +“I have been making the tour of the park,” he replied, “as I generally +do every year, and intended to close it with a call at the Parsonage. +Are you going much farther?” + +“No, I should have turned in a moment.” + +And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonage +together. + +“Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?” said she. + +“Yes--if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. He +arranges the business just as he pleases.” + +“And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least +great pleasure in the power of choice. I do not know anybody who seems +more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy.” + +“He likes to have his own way very well,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. +“But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it than +many others, because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speak +feelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and +dependence.” + +“In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very little of +either. Now, seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial and +dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going +wherever you chose or procuring anything you had a fancy for?” + +“These are home questions--and perhaps I cannot say that I have +experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greater +weight, I may suffer from the want of money. Younger sons cannot marry +where they like.” + +“Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very often +do.” + +“Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not many in +my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to +money.” + +“Is this,” thought Elizabeth, “meant for me?” and she coloured at the +idea; but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, “And pray, what is +the usual price of an earl’s younger son? Unless the elder brother is +very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds.” + +He answered her in the same style, and the subject dropped. To interrupt +a silence which might make him fancy her affected with what had passed, +she soon afterwards said,-- + +“I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of +having somebody at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure a +lasting convenience of that kind. But, perhaps, his sister does as well +for the present; and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what he +likes with her.” + +“No,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, “that is an advantage which he must +divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy.” + +“Are you, indeed? And pray what sort of a guardian do you make? Does +your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes +a little difficult to manage; and if she has the true Darcy spirit, she +may like to have her own way.” + +As she spoke, she observed him looking at her earnestly; and the manner +in which he immediately asked her why she supposed Miss Darcy likely to +give them any uneasiness, convinced her that she had somehow or other +got pretty near the truth. She directly replied,-- + +“You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and I dare +say she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. She is a +very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, Mrs. Hurst and +Miss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that you know them.” + +“I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant, gentlemanlike +man--he is a great friend of Darcy’s.” + +“Oh yes,” said Elizabeth drily--“Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr. +Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.” + +“Care of him! Yes, I really believe Darcy _does_ take care of him in +those points where he most wants care. From something that he told me +in our journey hither, I have reason to think Bingley very much indebted +to him. But I ought to beg his pardon, for I have no right to suppose +that Bingley was the person meant. It was all conjecture.” + +“What is it you mean?” + +“It is a circumstance which Darcy of course could not wish to be +generally known, because if it were to get round to the lady’s family it +would be an unpleasant thing.” + +“You may depend upon my not mentioning it.” + +“And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it to be +Bingley. What he told me was merely this: that he congratulated himself +on having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of a most +imprudent marriage, but without mentioning names or any other +particulars; and I only suspected it to be Bingley from believing him +the kind of young man to get into a scrape of that sort, and from +knowing them to have been together the whole of last summer.” + +“Did Mr. Darcy give you his reasons for this interference?” + +“I understood that there were some very strong objections against the +lady.” + +“And what arts did he use to separate them?” + +“He did not talk to me of his own arts,” said Fitzwilliam, smiling. “He +only told me what I have now told you.” + +Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart swelling with +indignation. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked her why she +was so thoughtful. + +“I am thinking of what you have been telling me,” said she. “Your +cousin’s conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the +judge?” + +“You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?” + +“I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the propriety of his +friend’s inclination; or why, upon his own judgment alone, he was to +determine and direct in what manner that friend was to be happy. But,” +she continued, recollecting herself, “as we know none of the +particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed +that there was much affection in the case.” + +“That is not an unnatural surmise,” said Fitzwilliam; “but it is +lessening the honour of my cousin’s triumph very sadly.” + +This was spoken jestingly, but it appeared to her so just a picture of +Mr. Darcy, that she would not trust herself with an answer; and, +therefore, abruptly changing the conversation, talked on indifferent +matters till they reached the Parsonage. There, shut into her own room, +as soon as their visitor left them, she could think without interruption +of all that she had heard. It was not to be supposed that any other +people could be meant than those with whom she was connected. There +could not exist in the world _two_ men over whom Mr. Darcy could have +such boundless influence. That he had been concerned in the measures +taken to separate Mr. Bingley and Jane, she had never doubted; but she +had always attributed to Miss Bingley the principal design and +arrangement of them. If his own vanity, however, did not mislead him, +_he_ was the cause--his pride and caprice were the cause--of all that +Jane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He had ruined for a +while every hope of happiness for the most affectionate, generous heart +in the world; and no one could say how lasting an evil he might have +inflicted. + +“There were some very strong objections against the lady,” were Colonel +Fitzwilliam’s words; and these strong objections probably were, her +having one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who was in +business in London. + +“To Jane herself,” she exclaimed, “there could be no possibility of +objection,--all loveliness and goodness as she is! Her understanding +excellent, her mind improved, and her manners captivating. Neither could +anything be urged against my father, who, though with some +peculiarities, has abilities which Mr. Darcy himself need not disdain, +and respectability which he will probably never reach.” When she thought +of her mother, indeed, her confidence gave way a little; but she would +not allow that any objections _there_ had material weight with Mr. +Darcy, whose pride, she was convinced, would receive a deeper wound from +the want of importance in his friend’s connections than from their want +of sense; and she was quite decided, at last, that he had been partly +governed by this worst kind of pride, and partly by the wish of +retaining Mr. Bingley for his sister. + +The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned brought on a +headache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening that, added to +her unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy, it determined her not to attend her +cousins to Rosings, where they were engaged to drink tea. Mrs. Collins, +seeing that she was really unwell, did not press her to go, and as much +as possible prevented her husband from pressing her; but Mr. Collins +could not conceal his apprehension of Lady Catherine’s being rather +displeased by her staying at home. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + + +[Illustration] + +When they were gone, Elizabeth, as if intending to exasperate herself as +much as possible against Mr. Darcy, chose for her employment the +examination of all the letters which Jane had written to her since her +being in Kent. They contained no actual complaint, nor was there any +revival of past occurrences, or any communication of present suffering. +But in all, and in almost every line of each, there was a want of that +cheerfulness which had been used to characterize her style, and which, +proceeding from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself, and kindly +disposed towards everyone, had been scarcely ever clouded. Elizabeth +noticed every sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness, with an +attention which it had hardly received on the first perusal. Mr. Darcy’s +shameful boast of what misery he had been able to inflict gave her a +keener sense of her sister’s sufferings. It was some consolation to +think that his visit to Rosings was to end on the day after the next, +and a still greater that in less than a fortnight she should herself be +with Jane again, and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her +spirits, by all that affection could do. + +She could not think of Darcy’s leaving Kent without remembering that his +cousin was to go with him; but Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear +that he had no intentions at all, and, agreeable as he was, she did not +mean to be unhappy about him. + +While settling this point, she was suddenly roused by the sound of the +door-bell; and her spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of its +being Colonel Fitzwilliam himself, who had once before called late in +the evening, and might now come to inquire particularly after her. But +this idea was soon banished, and her spirits were very differently +affected, when, to her utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the +room. In a hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her +health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better. +She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and +then getting up walked about the room. Elizabeth was surprised, but +said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her +in an agitated manner, and thus began:-- + +“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be +repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love +you.” + +Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured, +doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement, +and the avowal of all that he felt and had long felt for her immediately +followed. He spoke well; but there were feelings besides those of the +heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of +tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority, of its being a +degradation, of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed +to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the +consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his +suit. + +In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she could not be insensible to +the compliment of such a man’s affection, and though her intentions did +not vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for the pain he was to +receive; till roused to resentment by his subsequent language, she lost +all compassion in anger. She tried, however, to compose herself to +answer him with patience, when he should have done. He concluded with +representing to her the strength of that attachment which in spite of +all his endeavours he had found impossible to conquer; and with +expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of +his hand. As he said this she could easily see that he had no doubt of a +favourable answer. He _spoke_ of apprehension and anxiety, but his +countenance expressed real security. Such a circumstance could only +exasperate farther; and when he ceased the colour rose into her cheeks +and she said,-- + +“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to +express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however +unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be +felt, and if I could _feel_ gratitude, I would now thank you. But I +cannot--I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly +bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to +anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be +of short duration. The feelings which you tell me have long prevented +the acknowledgment of your regard can have little difficulty in +overcoming it after this explanation.” + +Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantel-piece with his eyes fixed +on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than +surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of +his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the +appearance of composure, and would not open his lips till he believed +himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth’s feelings +dreadful. At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said,-- + +“And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I +might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little _endeavour_ at +civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.” + +“I might as well inquire,” replied she, “why, with so evident a design +of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me +against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? +Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I _was_ uncivil? But I have +other provocations. You know I have. Had not my own feelings decided +against you, had they been indifferent, or had they even been +favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept +the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the +happiness of a most beloved sister?” + +As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy changed colour; but the emotion +was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she +continued,-- + +“I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can +excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted _there_. You dare not, +you cannot deny that you have been the principal, if not the only means +of dividing them from each other, of exposing one to the censure of the +world for caprice and instability, the other to its derision for +disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest +kind.” + +She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was listening +with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. +He even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity. + +“Can you deny that you have done it?” she repeated. + +With assumed tranquillity he then replied, “I have no wish of denying +that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your +sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards _him_ I have been +kinder than towards myself.” + +Elizabeth disdained the appearance of noticing this civil reflection, +but its meaning did not escape, nor was it likely to conciliate her. + +“But it is not merely this affair,” she continued, “on which my dislike +is founded. Long before it had taken place, my opinion of you was +decided. Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received +many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to +say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself? +or under what misrepresentation can you here impose upon others?” + +“You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns,” said Darcy, +in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour. + +“Who that knows what his misfortunes have been can help feeling an +interest in him?” + +“His misfortunes!” repeated Darcy, contemptuously,--“yes, his +misfortunes have been great indeed.” + +“And of your infliction,” cried Elizabeth, with energy; “You have +reduced him to his present state of poverty--comparative poverty. You +have withheld the advantages which you must know to have been designed +for him. You have deprived the best years of his life of that +independence which was no less his due than his desert. You have done +all this! and yet you can treat the mention of his misfortunes with +contempt and ridicule.” + +“And this,” cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across the room, +“is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I +thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this +calculation, are heavy indeed! But, perhaps,” added he, stopping in his +walk, and turning towards her, “these offences might have been +overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the +scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These +bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater +policy, concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my +being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination; by reason, by +reflection, by everything. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. +Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. +Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your +connections?--to congratulate myself on the hope of relations whose +condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?” + +Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry every moment; yet she tried to +the utmost to speak with composure when she said,-- + +“You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your +declaration affected me in any other way than as it spared me the +concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a +more gentlemanlike manner.” + +She saw him start at this; but he said nothing, and she continued,-- + +“You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way +that would have tempted me to accept it.” + +Again his astonishment was obvious; and he looked at her with an +expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. She went on,-- + +“From the very beginning, from the first moment, I may almost say, of my +acquaintance with you, your manners impressing me with the fullest +belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the +feelings of others, were such as to form that groundwork of +disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immovable a +dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the +last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.” + +“You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your +feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. +Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best +wishes for your health and happiness.” + +And with these words he hastily left the room, and Elizabeth heard him +the next moment open the front door and quit the house. The tumult of +her mind was now painfully great. She knew not how to support herself, +and, from actual weakness, sat down and cried for half an hour. Her +astonishment, as she reflected on what had passed, was increased by +every review of it. That she should receive an offer of marriage from +Mr. Darcy! that he should have been in love with her for so many months! +so much in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections +which had made him prevent his friend’s marrying her sister, and which +must appear at least with equal force in his own case, was almost +incredible! it was gratifying to have inspired unconsciously so strong +an affection. But his pride, his abominable pride, his shameless avowal +of what he had done with respect to Jane, his unpardonable assurance in +acknowledging, though he could not justify it, and the unfeeling manner +which he had mentioned Mr. Wickham, his cruelty towards whom he had not +attempted to deny, soon overcame the pity which the consideration of his +attachment had for a moment excited. + +She continued in very agitating reflections till the sound of Lady +Catherine’s carriage made her feel how unequal she was to encounter +Charlotte’s observation, and hurried her away to her room. + + + + +[Illustration: + +“Hearing herself called” +] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + + +[Illustration] + +Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations +which had at length closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from the +surprise of what had happened: it was impossible to think of anything +else; and, totally indisposed for employment, she resolved soon after +breakfast to indulge herself in air and exercise. She was proceeding +directly to her favourite walk, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy’s +sometimes coming there stopped her, and instead of entering the park, +she turned up the lane which led her farther from the turnpike road. The +park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she soon passed one +of the gates into the ground. + +After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, she was +tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at the gates and +look into the park. The five weeks which she had now passed in Kent had +made a great difference in the country, and every day was adding to the +verdure of the early trees. She was on the point of continuing her +walk, when she caught a glimpse of a gentleman within the sort of grove +which edged the park: he was moving that way; and fearful of its being +Mr. Darcy, she was directly retreating. But the person who advanced was +now near enough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness, +pronounced her name. She had turned away; but on hearing herself called, +though in a voice which proved it to be Mr. Darcy, she moved again +towards the gate. He had by that time reached it also; and, holding out +a letter, which she instinctively took, said, with a look of haughty +composure, “I have been walking in the grove some time, in the hope of +meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?” and +then, with a slight bow, turned again into the plantation, and was soon +out of sight. + +With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity, +Elizabeth opened the letter, and to her still increasing wonder, +perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter paper, written +quite through, in a very close hand. The envelope itself was likewise +full. Pursuing her way along the lane, she then began it. It was dated +from Rosings, at eight o’clock in the morning, and was as follows:-- + +“Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of +its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those +offers, which were last night so disgusting to you. I write without any +intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes, +which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten; and the +effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion, +should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written +and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand +your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I +demand it of your justice. + +“Two offences of a very different nature, and by no means of equal +magnitude, you last night laid to my charge. The first mentioned was, +that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had detached Mr. Bingley +from your sister,--and the other, that I had, in defiance of various +claims, in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the immediate +prosperity and blasted the prospects of Mr. Wickham. Wilfully and +wantonly to have thrown off the companion of my youth, the acknowledged +favourite of my father, a young man who had scarcely any other +dependence than on our patronage, and who had been brought up to expect +its exertion, would be a depravity, to which the separation of two young +persons whose affection could be the growth of only a few weeks, could +bear no comparison. But from the severity of that blame which was last +night so liberally bestowed, respecting each circumstance, I shall hope +to be in future secured, when the following account of my actions and +their motives has been read. If, in the explanation of them which is due +to myself, I am under the necessity of relating feelings which may be +offensive to yours, I can only say that I am sorry. The necessity must +be obeyed, and further apology would be absurd. I had not been long in +Hertfordshire before I saw, in common with others, that Bingley +preferred your elder sister to any other young woman in the country. But +it was not till the evening of the dance at Netherfield that I had any +apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment. I had often seen him +in love before. At that ball, while I had the honour of dancing with +you, I was first made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas’s accidental +information, that Bingley’s attentions to your sister had given rise to +a general expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it as a certain +event, of which the time alone could be undecided. From that moment I +observed my friend’s behaviour attentively; and I could then perceive +that his partiality for Miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed +in him. Your sister I also watched. Her look and manners were open, +cheerful, and engaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar +regard; and I remained convinced, from the evening’s scrutiny, that +though she received his attentions with pleasure, she did not invite +them by any participation of sentiment. If _you_ have not been mistaken +here, _I_ must have been in an error. Your superior knowledge of your +sister must make the latter probable. If it be so, if I have been misled +by such error to inflict pain on her, your resentment has not been +unreasonable. But I shall not scruple to assert, that the serenity of +your sister’s countenance and air was such as might have given the most +acute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart +was not likely to be easily touched. That I was desirous of believing +her indifferent is certain; but I will venture to say that my +investigations and decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or +fears. I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; I +believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason. +My objections to the marriage were not merely those which I last night +acknowledged to have required the utmost force of passion to put aside +in my own case; the want of connection could not be so great an evil to +my friend as to me. But there were other causes of repugnance; causes +which, though still existing, and existing to an equal degree in both +instances, I had myself endeavoured to forget, because they were not +immediately before me. These causes must be stated, though briefly. The +situation of your mother’s family, though objectionable, was nothing in +comparison of that total want of propriety so frequently, so almost +uniformly betrayed by herself, by your three younger sisters, and +occasionally even by your father:--pardon me,--it pains me to offend +you. But amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations, +and your displeasure at this representation of them, let it give you +consolation to consider that to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid +any share of the like censure is praise no less generally bestowed on +you and your eldest sister than it is honourable to the sense and +disposition of both. I will only say, farther, that from what passed +that evening my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every +inducement heightened, which could have led me before to preserve my +friend from what I esteemed a most unhappy connection. He left +Netherfield for London on the day following, as you, I am certain, +remember, with the design of soon returning. The part which I acted is +now to be explained. His sisters’ uneasiness had been equally excited +with my own: our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered; and, alike +sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we +shortly resolved on joining him directly in London. We accordingly +went--and there I readily engaged in the office of pointing out to my +friend the certain evils of such a choice. I described and enforced them +earnestly. But however this remonstrance might have staggered or delayed +his determination, I do not suppose that it would ultimately have +prevented the marriage, had it not been seconded by the assurance, which +I hesitated not in giving, of your sister’s indifference. He had before +believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal, +regard. But Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger +dependence on my judgment than on his own. To convince him, therefore, +that he had deceived himself was no very difficult point. To persuade +him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been +given, was scarcely the work of a moment. I cannot blame myself for +having done thus much. There is but one part of my conduct, in the whole +affair, on which I do not reflect with satisfaction; it is that I +condescended to adopt the measures of art so far as to conceal from him +your sister’s being in town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss +Bingley; but her brother is even yet ignorant of it. That they might +have met without ill consequence is, perhaps, probable; but his regard +did not appear to me enough extinguished for him to see her without some +danger. Perhaps this concealment, this disguise, was beneath me. It is +done, however, and it was done for the best. On this subject I have +nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I have wounded your +sister’s feelings, it was unknowingly done; and though the motives which +governed me may to you very naturally appear insufficient, I have not +yet learnt to condemn them.--With respect to that other, more weighty +accusation, of having injured Mr. Wickham, I can only refute it by +laying before you the whole of his connection with my family. Of what he +has _particularly_ accused me I am ignorant; but of the truth of what I +shall relate I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity. +Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years +the management of all the Pemberley estates, and whose good conduct in +the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service +to him; and on George Wickham, who was his godson, his kindness was +therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and +afterwards at Cambridge; most important assistance, as his own father, +always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to +give him a gentleman’s education. My father was not only fond of this +young man’s society, whose manners were always engaging, he had also the +highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession, +intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years +since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The +vicious propensities, the want of principle, which he was careful to +guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the +observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who +had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy +could not have. Here again I shall give you pain--to what degree you +only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has +created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding +his real character. It adds even another motive. My excellent father +died about five years ago; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the +last so steady, that in his will he particularly recommended it to me to +promote his advancement in the best manner that his profession might +allow, and if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living +might be his as soon as it became vacant. There was also a legacy of +one thousand pounds. His own father did not long survive mine; and +within half a year from these events Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me +that, having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should +not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate +pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment, by which he could not be +benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying the law, and I +must be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds would be a very +insufficient support therein. I rather wished than believed him to be +sincere; but, at any rate, was perfectly ready to accede to his +proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman. The +business was therefore soon settled. He resigned all claim to assistance +in the church, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to +receive it, and accepted in return three thousand pounds. All connection +between us seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him to invite him +to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town, I believe, he +chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a mere pretence; and being +now free from all restraint, his life was a life of idleness and +dissipation. For about three years I heard little of him; but on the +decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him, +he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. His +circumstances, he assured me, and I had no difficulty in believing it, +were exceedingly bad. He had found the law a most unprofitable study, +and was now absolutely resolved on being ordained, if I would present +him to the living in question--of which he trusted there could be little +doubt, as he was well assured that I had no other person to provide for, +and I could not have forgotten my revered father’s intentions. You will +hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or for +resisting every repetition of it. His resentment was in proportion to +the distress of his circumstances--and he was doubtless as violent in +his abuse of me to others as in his reproaches to myself. After this +period, every appearance of acquaintance was dropped. How he lived, I +know not. But last summer he was again most painfully obtruded on my +notice. I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget +myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me +to unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of +your secrecy. My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left +to the guardianship of my mother’s nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and +myself. About a year ago, she was taken from school, and an +establishment formed for her in London; and last summer she went with +the lady who presided over it to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr. +Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior +acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were +most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and aid he so far +recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a +strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was +persuaded to believe herself in love and to consent to an elopement. She +was then but fifteen, which must be her excuse; and after stating her +imprudence, I am happy to add, that I owed the knowledge of it to +herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended +elopement; and then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving +and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, +acknowledged the whole to me. You may imagine what I felt and how I +acted. Regard for my sister’s credit and feelings prevented any public +exposure; but I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately, +and Mrs. Younge was of course removed from her charge. Mr. Wickham’s +chief object was unquestionably my sister’s fortune, which is thirty +thousand pounds; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging +himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been +complete indeed. This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in +which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely +reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty +towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of +falsehood, he has imposed on you; but his success is not perhaps to be +wondered at, ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning +either. Detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly +not in your inclination. You may possibly wonder why all this was not +told you last night. But I was not then master enough of myself to know +what could or ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything here +related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel +Fitzwilliam, who, from our near relationship and constant intimacy, and +still more as one of the executors of my father’s will, has been +unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. If +your abhorrence of _me_ should make _my_ assertions valueless, you +cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and +that there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavour +to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the +course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you. + +“FITZWILLIAM DARCY.” + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + + +[Illustration] + +Elizabeth, when Mr. Darcy gave her the letter, did not expect it to +contain a renewal of his offers, she had formed no expectation at all of +its contents. But such as they were, it may be well supposed how eagerly +she went through them, and what a contrariety of emotion they excited. +Her feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined. With amazement did +she first understand that he believed any apology to be in his power; +and steadfastly was she persuaded, that he could have no explanation to +give, which a just sense of shame would not conceal. With a strong +prejudice against everything he might say, she began his account of +what had happened at Netherfield. She read with an eagerness which +hardly left her power of comprehension; and from impatience of knowing +what the next sentence might bring, was incapable of attending to the +sense of the one before her eyes. His belief of her sister’s +insensibility she instantly resolved to be false; and his account of the +real, the worst objections to the match, made her too angry to have any +wish of doing him justice. He expressed no regret for what he had done +which satisfied her; his style was not penitent, but haughty. It was all +pride and insolence. + +But when this subject was succeeded by his account of Mr. Wickham--when +she read, with somewhat clearer attention, a relation of events which, +if true, must overthrow every cherished opinion of his worth, and which +bore so alarming an affinity to his own history of himself--her feelings +were yet more acutely painful and more difficult of definition. +Astonishment, apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished +to discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, “This must be false! +This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!”--and when she had +gone through the whole letter, though scarcely knowing anything of the +last page or two, put it hastily away, protesting that she would not +regard it, that she would never look in it again. + +In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest on +nothing, she walked on; but it would not do: in half a minute the letter +was unfolded again; and collecting herself as well as she could, she +again began the mortifying perusal of all that related to Wickham, and +commanded herself so far as to examine the meaning of every sentence. +The account of his connection with the Pemberley family was exactly +what he had related himself; and the kindness of the late Mr. Darcy, +though she had not before known its extent, agreed equally well with his +own words. So far each recital confirmed the other; but when she came to +the will, the difference was great. What Wickham had said of the living +was fresh in her memory; and as she recalled his very words, it was +impossible not to feel that there was gross duplicity on one side or the +other, and, for a few moments, she flattered herself that her wishes did +not err. But when she read and re-read, with the closest attention, the +particulars immediately following of Wickham’s resigning all pretensions +to the living, of his receiving in lieu so considerable a sum as three +thousand pounds, again was she forced to hesitate. She put down the +letter, weighed every circumstance with what she meant to be +impartiality--deliberated on the probability of each statement--but with +little success. On both sides it was only assertion. Again she read on. +But every line proved more clearly that the affair, which she had +believed it impossible that any contrivance could so represent as to +render Mr. Darcy’s conduct in it less than infamous, was capable of a +turn which must make him entirely blameless throughout the whole. + +The extravagance and general profligacy which he scrupled not to lay to +Mr. Wickham’s charge exceedingly shocked her; the more so, as she could +bring no proof of its injustice. She had never heard of him before his +entrance into the ----shire militia, in which he had engaged at the +persuasion of the young man, who, on meeting him accidentally in town, +had there renewed a slight acquaintance. Of his former way of life, +nothing had been known in Hertfordshire but what he told + +[Illustration: + + “Meeting accidentally in Town” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +himself. As to his real character, had information been in her power, +she had never felt a wish of inquiring. His countenance, voice, and +manner, had established him at once in the possession of every virtue. +She tried to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished +trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the +attacks of Mr. Darcy; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone +for those casual errors, under which she would endeavour to class what +Mr. Darcy had described as the idleness and vice of many years’ +continuance. But no such recollection befriended her. She could see him +instantly before her, in every charm of air and address, but she could +remember no more substantial good than the general approbation of the +neighbourhood, and the regard which his social powers had gained him in +the mess. After pausing on this point a considerable while, she once +more continued to read. But, alas! the story which followed, of his +designs on Miss Darcy, received some confirmation from what had passed +between Colonel Fitzwilliam and herself only the morning before; and at +last she was referred for the truth of every particular to Colonel +Fitzwilliam himself--from whom she had previously received the +information of his near concern in all his cousin’s affairs and whose +character she had no reason to question. At one time she had almost +resolved on applying to him, but the idea was checked by the awkwardness +of the application, and at length wholly banished by the conviction that +Mr. Darcy would never have hazarded such a proposal, if he had not been +well assured of his cousin’s corroboration. + +She perfectly remembered everything that had passed in conversation +between Wickham and herself in their first evening at Mr. Philips’s. +Many of his expressions were still fresh in her memory. She was _now_ +struck with the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, and +wondered it had escaped her before. She saw the indelicacy of putting +himself forward as he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions +with his conduct. She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear +of seeing Mr. Darcy--that Mr. Darcy might leave the country, but that +_he_ should stand his ground; yet he had avoided the Netherfield ball +the very next week. She remembered, also, that till the Netherfield +family had quitted the country, he had told his story to no one but +herself; but that after their removal, it had been everywhere discussed; +that he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinking Mr. Darcy’s +character, though he had assured her that respect for the father would +always prevent his exposing the son. + +How differently did everything now appear in which he was concerned! His +attentions to Miss King were now the consequence of views solely and +hatefully mercenary; and the mediocrity of her fortune proved no longer +the moderation of his wishes, but his eagerness to grasp at anything. +His behaviour to herself could now have had no tolerable motive: he had +either been deceived with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying +his vanity by encouraging the preference which she believed she had most +incautiously shown. Every lingering struggle in his favour grew fainter +and fainter; and in further justification of Mr. Darcy, she could not +but allow that Mr. Bingley, when questioned by Jane, had long ago +asserted his blamelessness in the affair;--that, proud and repulsive as +were his manners, she had never, in the whole course of their +acquaintance--an acquaintance which had latterly brought them much +together, and given her a sort of intimacy with his ways--seen anything +that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust--anything that spoke him +of irreligious or immoral habits;--that among his own connections he was +esteemed and valued;--that even Wickham had allowed him merit as a +brother, and that she had often heard him speak so affectionately of his +sister as to prove him capable of some amiable feeling;--that had his +actions been what Wickham represented them, so gross a violation of +everything right could hardly have been concealed from the world; and +that friendship between a person capable of it and such an amiable man +as Mr. Bingley was incomprehensible. + +She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham +could she think, without feeling that she had been blind, partial, +prejudiced, absurd. + +“How despicably have I acted!” she cried. “I, who have prided myself on +my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! who have +often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my +vanity in useless or blameless distrust. How humiliating is this +discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I could not +have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my +folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect +of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted +prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away where either were +concerned. Till this moment, I never knew myself.” + +From herself to Jane, from Jane to Bingley, her thoughts were in a line +which soon brought to her recollection that Mr. Darcy’s explanation +_there_ had appeared very insufficient; and she read it again. Widely +different was the effect of a second perusal. How could she deny that +credit to his assertions, in one instance, which she had been obliged to +give in the other? He declared himself to have been totally unsuspicious +of her sister’s attachment; and she could not help remembering what +Charlotte’s opinion had always been. Neither could she deny the justice +of his description of Jane. She felt that Jane’s feelings, though +fervent, were little displayed, and that there was a constant +complacency in her air and manner, not often united with great +sensibility. + +When she came to that part of the letter in which her family were +mentioned, in tones of such mortifying, yet merited, reproach, her sense +of shame was severe. The justice of the charge struck her too forcibly +for denial; and the circumstances to which he particularly alluded, as +having passed at the Netherfield ball, and as confirming all his first +disapprobation, could not have made a stronger impression on his mind +than on hers. + +The compliment to herself and her sister was not unfelt. It soothed, but +it could not console her for the contempt which had been thus +self-attracted by the rest of her family; and as she considered that +Jane’s disappointment had, in fact, been the work of her nearest +relations, and reflected how materially the credit of both must be hurt +by such impropriety of conduct, she felt depressed beyond anything she +had ever known before. + +After wandering along the lane for two hours, giving way to every +variety of thought, reconsidering events, determining probabilities, and +reconciling herself, as well as she could, to a change so sudden and so +important, fatigue, and a recollection of her long absence, made her at +length return home; and she entered the house with the wish of appearing +cheerful as usual, and the resolution of repressing such reflections as +must make her unfit for conversation. + +She was immediately told, that the two gentlemen from Rosings had each +called during her absence; Mr. Darcy, only for a few minutes, to take +leave, but that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been sitting with them at least +an hour, hoping for her return, and almost resolving to walk after her +till she could be found. Elizabeth could but just _affect_ concern in +missing him; she really rejoiced at it. Colonel Fitzwilliam was no +longer an object. She could think only of her letter. + + + + +[Illustration: + +“His parting obeisance” +] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + + +[Illustration] + +The two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning; and Mr. Collins having +been in waiting near the lodges, to make them his parting obeisance, was +able to bring home the pleasing intelligence of their appearing in very +good health, and in as tolerable spirits as could be expected, after the +melancholy scene so lately gone through at Rosings. To Rosings he then +hastened to console Lady Catherine and her daughter; and on his return +brought back, with great satisfaction, a message from her Ladyship, +importing that she felt herself so dull as to make her very desirous of +having them all to dine with her. + +Elizabeth could not see Lady Catherine without recollecting that, had +she chosen it, she might by this time have been presented to her as her +future niece; nor could she think, without a smile, of what her +Ladyship’s indignation would have been. “What would she have said? how +would she have behaved?” were the questions with which she amused +herself. + +Their first subject was the diminution of the Rosings’ party. “I assure +you, I feel it exceedingly,” said Lady Catherine; “I believe nobody +feels the loss of friends so much as I do. But I am particularly +attached to these young men; and know them to be so much attached to me! +They were excessively sorry to go! But so they always are. The dear +Colonel rallied his spirits tolerably till just at last; but Darcy +seemed to feel it most acutely--more, I think, than last year. His +attachment to Rosings certainly increases.” + +Mr. Collins had a compliment and an allusion to throw in here, which +were kindly smiled on by the mother and daughter. + +Lady Catherine observed, after dinner, that Miss Bennet seemed out of +spirits; and immediately accounting for it herself, by supposing that +she did not like to go home again so soon, she added,-- + +“But if that is the case, you must write to your mother to beg that you +may stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad of your +company, I am sure.” + +“I am much obliged to your Ladyship for your kind invitation,” replied +Elizabeth; “but it is not in my power to accept it. I must be in town +next Saturday.” + +“Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six weeks. I expected +you to stay two months. I told Mrs. Collins so before you came. There +can be no occasion for your going so soon. Mrs. Bennet could certainly +spare you for another fortnight.” + +“But my father cannot. He wrote last week to hurry my return.” + +[Illustration: + +“Dawson” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +“Oh, your father, of course, may spare you, if your mother can. +Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father. And if you will +stay another _month_ complete, it will be in my power to take one of you +as far as London, for I am going there early in June, for a week; and +as Dawson does not object to the barouche-box, there will be very good +room for one of you--and, indeed, if the weather should happen to be +cool, I should not object to taking you both, as you are neither of you +large.” + +“You are all kindness, madam; but I believe we must abide by our +original plan.” + +Lady Catherine seemed resigned. “Mrs. Collins, you must send a servant +with them. You know I always speak my mind, and I cannot bear the idea +of two young women travelling post by themselves. It is highly improper. +You must contrive to send somebody. I have the greatest dislike in the +world to that sort of thing. Young women should always be properly +guarded and attended, according to their situation in life. When my +niece Georgiana went to Ramsgate last summer, I made a point of her +having two men-servants go with her. Miss Darcy, the daughter of Mr. +Darcy of Pemberley, and Lady Anne, could not have appeared with +propriety in a different manner. I am excessively attentive to all those +things. You must send John with the young ladies, Mrs. Collins. I am +glad it occurred to me to mention it; for it would really be +discreditable to _you_ to let them go alone.” + +“My uncle is to send a servant for us.” + +“Oh! Your uncle! He keeps a man-servant, does he? I am very glad you +have somebody who thinks of those things. Where shall you change horses? +Oh, Bromley, of course. If you mention my name at the Bell, you will be +attended to.” + +Lady Catherine had many other questions to ask respecting their journey; +and as she did not answer them all herself attention was +necessary--which Elizabeth believed to be lucky for her; or, with a +mind so occupied, she might have forgotten where she was. Reflection +must be reserved for solitary hours: whenever she was alone, she gave +way to it as the greatest relief; and not a day went by without a +solitary walk, in which she might indulge in all the delight of +unpleasant recollections. + +Mr. Darcy’s letter she was in a fair way of soon knowing by heart. She +studied every sentence; and her feelings towards its writer were at +times widely different. When she remembered the style of his address, +she was still full of indignation: but when she considered how unjustly +she had condemned and upbraided him, her anger was turned against +herself; and his disappointed feelings became the object of compassion. +His attachment excited gratitude, his general character respect: but she +could not approve him; nor could she for a moment repent her refusal, or +feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again. In her own past +behaviour, there was a constant source of vexation and regret: and in +the unhappy defects of her family, a subject of yet heavier chagrin. +They were hopeless of remedy. Her father, contented with laughing at +them, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his +youngest daughters; and her mother, with manners so far from right +herself, was entirely insensible of the evil. Elizabeth had frequently +united with Jane in an endeavour to check the imprudence of Catherine +and Lydia; but while they were supported by their mother’s indulgence, +what chance could there be of improvement? Catherine, weak-spirited, +irritable, and completely under Lydia’s guidance, had been always +affronted by their advice; and Lydia, self-willed and careless, would +scarcely give them a hearing. They were ignorant, idle, and vain. While +there was an officer in Meryton, they would flirt with him; and while +Meryton was within a walk of Longbourn, they would be going there for +ever. + +Anxiety on Jane’s behalf was another prevailing concern; and Mr. Darcy’s +explanation, by restoring Bingley to all her former good opinion, +heightened the sense of what Jane had lost. His affection was proved to +have been sincere, and his conduct cleared of all blame, unless any +could attach to the implicitness of his confidence in his friend. How +grievous then was the thought that, of a situation so desirable in every +respect, so replete with advantage, so promising for happiness, Jane had +been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family! + +When to these recollections was added the development of Wickham’s +character, it may be easily believed that the happy spirits which had +seldom been depressed before were now so much affected as to make it +almost impossible for her to appear tolerably cheerful. + +Their engagements at Rosings were as frequent during the last week of +her stay as they had been at first. The very last evening was spent +there; and her Ladyship again inquired minutely into the particulars of +their journey, gave them directions as to the best method of packing, +and was so urgent on the necessity of placing gowns in the only right +way, that Maria thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all the +work of the morning, and pack her trunk afresh. + +When they parted, Lady Catherine, with great condescension, wished them +a good journey, and invited them to come to Hunsford again next year; +and Miss de Bourgh exerted herself so far as to courtesy and hold out +her hand to both. + + + + +[Illustration: + +“The elevation of his feelings.” +] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + + +[Illustration] + +On Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins met for breakfast a few +minutes before the others appeared; and he took the opportunity of +paying the parting civilities which he deemed indispensably necessary. + +“I know not, Miss Elizabeth,” said he, “whether Mrs. Collins has yet +expressed her sense of your kindness in coming to us; but I am very +certain you will not leave the house without receiving her thanks for +it. The favour of your company has been much felt, I assure you. We know +how little there is to tempt anyone to our humble abode. Our plain +manner of living, our small rooms, and few domestics, and the little we +see of the world, must make Hunsford extremely dull to a young lady like +yourself; but I hope you will believe us grateful for the condescension, +and that we have done everything in our power to prevent you spending +your time unpleasantly.” + +Elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assurances of happiness. She had +spent six weeks with great enjoyment; and the pleasure of being with +Charlotte, and the kind attention she had received, must make _her_ feel +the obliged. Mr. Collins was gratified; and with a more smiling +solemnity replied,-- + +“It gives me the greatest pleasure to hear that you have passed your +time not disagreeably. We have certainly done our best; and most +fortunately having it in our power to introduce you to very superior +society, and from our connection with Rosings, the frequent means of +varying the humble home scene, I think we may flatter ourselves that +your Hunsford visit cannot have been entirely irksome. Our situation +with regard to Lady Catherine’s family is, indeed, the sort of +extraordinary advantage and blessing which few can boast. You see on +what a footing we are. You see how continually we are engaged there. In +truth, I must acknowledge, that, with all the disadvantages of this +humble parsonage, I should not think anyone abiding in it an object of +compassion, while they are sharers of our intimacy at Rosings.” + +Words were insufficient for the elevation of his feelings; and he was +obliged to walk about the room, while Elizabeth tried to unite civility +and truth in a few short sentences. + +“You may, in fact, carry a very favourable report of us into +Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself, at least, that you will +be able to do so. Lady Catherine’s great attentions to Mrs. Collins you +have been a daily witness of; and altogether I trust it does not appear +that your friend has drawn an unfortunate--but on this point it will be +as well to be silent. Only let me assure you, my dear Miss Elizabeth, +that I can from my heart most cordially wish you equal felicity in +marriage. My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of +thinking. There is in everything a most remarkable resemblance of +character and ideas between us. We seem to have been designed for each +other.” + +Elizabeth could safely say that it was a great happiness where that was +the case, and with equal sincerity could add, that she firmly believed +and rejoiced in his domestic comforts. She was not sorry, however, to +have the recital of them interrupted by the entrance of the lady from +whom they sprang. Poor Charlotte! it was melancholy to leave her to such +society! But she had chosen it with her eyes open; and though evidently +regretting that her visitors were to go, she did not seem to ask for +compassion. Her home and her housekeeping, her parish and her poultry, +and all their dependent concerns, had not yet lost their charms. + +At length the chaise arrived, the trunks were fastened on, the parcels +placed within, and it was pronounced to be ready. After an affectionate +parting between the friends, Elizabeth was attended to the carriage by +Mr. Collins; and as they walked down the garden, he was commissioning +her with his best respects to all her family, not forgetting his thanks +for the kindness he had received at Longbourn in the winter, and his +compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though unknown. He then handed +her in, Maria followed, and the door was on the point of being closed, +when he suddenly reminded them, with some consternation, that they had +hitherto forgotten to leave any message for the ladies of Rosings. + +[Illustration: + +“They had forgotten to leave any message” +] + +“But,” he added, “you will of course wish to have your humble respects +delivered to them, with your grateful thanks for their kindness to you +while you have been here.” + +Elizabeth made no objection: the door was then allowed to be shut, and +the carriage drove off. + +“Good gracious!” cried Maria, after a few minutes’ silence, “it seems +but a day or two since we first came! and yet how many things have +happened!” + +“A great many indeed,” said her companion, with a sigh. + +“We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there twice! +How much I shall have to tell!” + +Elizabeth privately added, “And how much I shall have to conceal!” + +Their journey was performed without much conversation, or any alarm; and +within four hours of their leaving Hunsford they reached Mr. Gardiner’s +house, where they were to remain a few days. + +Jane looked well, and Elizabeth had little opportunity of studying her +spirits, amidst the various engagements which the kindness of her aunt +had reserved for them. But Jane was to go home with her, and at +Longbourn there would be leisure enough for observation. + +It was not without an effort, meanwhile, that she could wait even for +Longbourn, before she told her sister of Mr. Darcy’s proposals. To know +that she had the power of revealing what would so exceedingly astonish +Jane, and must, at the same time, so highly gratify whatever of her own +vanity she had not yet been able to reason away, was such a temptation +to openness as nothing could have conquered, but the state of indecision +in which she remained as to the extent of what she should communicate, +and her fear, if she once entered on the subject, of being hurried into +repeating something of Bingley, which might only grieve her sister +further. + + + + +[Illustration: + + “How nicely we are crammed in” +] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + + +[Illustration] + +It was the second week in May, in which the three young ladies set out +together from Gracechurch Street for the town of ----, in Hertfordshire; +and, as they drew near the appointed inn where Mr. Bennet’s carriage was +to meet them, they quickly perceived, in token of the coachman’s +punctuality, both Kitty and Lydia looking out of a dining-room upstairs. +These two girls had been above an hour in the place, happily employed +in visiting an opposite milliner, watching the sentinel on guard, and +dressing a salad and cucumber. + +After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed a table set +out with such cold meat as an inn larder usually affords, exclaiming, +“Is not this nice? is not this an agreeable surprise?” + +“And we mean to treat you all,” added Lydia; “but you must lend us the +money, for we have just spent ours at the shop out there.” Then showing +her purchases,--“Look here, I have bought this bonnet. I do not think it +is very pretty; but I thought I might as well buy it as not. I shall +pull it to pieces as soon as I get home, and see if I can make it up any +better.” + +And when her sisters abused it as ugly, she added, with perfect +unconcern, “Oh, but there were two or three much uglier in the shop; and +when I have bought some prettier-coloured satin to trim it with fresh, I +think it will be very tolerable. Besides, it will not much signify what +one wears this summer, after the ----shire have left Meryton, and they +are going in a fortnight.” + +“Are they, indeed?” cried Elizabeth, with the greatest satisfaction. + +“They are going to be encamped near Brighton; and I do so want papa to +take us all there for the summer! It would be such a delicious scheme, +and I dare say would hardly cost anything at all. Mamma would like to +go, too, of all things! Only think what a miserable summer else we shall +have!” + +“Yes,” thought Elizabeth; “_that_ would be a delightful scheme, indeed, +and completely do for us at once. Good Heaven! Brighton and a whole +campful of soldiers, to us, who have been overset already by one poor +regiment of militia, and the monthly balls of Meryton!” + +“Now I have got some news for you,” said Lydia, as they sat down to +table. “What do you think? It is excellent news, capital news, and about +a certain person that we all like.” + +Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, and the waiter was told that he +need not stay. Lydia laughed, and said,-- + +“Ay, that is just like your formality and discretion. You thought the +waiter must not hear, as if he cared! I dare say he often hears worse +things said than I am going to say. But he is an ugly fellow! I am glad +he is gone. I never saw such a long chin in my life. Well, but now for +my news: it is about dear Wickham; too good for the waiter, is not it? +There is no danger of Wickham’s marrying Mary King--there’s for you! She +is gone down to her uncle at Liverpool; gone to stay. Wickham is safe.” + +“And Mary King is safe!” added Elizabeth; “safe from a connection +imprudent as to fortune.” + +“She is a great fool for going away, if she liked him.” + +“But I hope there is no strong attachment on either side,” said Jane. + +“I am sure there is not on _his_. I will answer for it, he never cared +three straws about her. Who _could_ about such a nasty little freckled +thing?” + +Elizabeth was shocked to think that, however incapable of such +coarseness of _expression_ herself, the coarseness of the _sentiment_ +was little other than her own breast had formerly harboured and fancied +liberal! + +As soon as all had ate, and the elder ones paid, the carriage was +ordered; and, after some contrivance, the whole party, with all their +boxes, workbags, and parcels, and the unwelcome addition of Kitty’s and +Lydia’s purchases, were seated in it. + +“How nicely we are crammed in!” cried Lydia. “I am glad I brought my +bonnet, if it is only for the fun of having another band-box! Well, now +let us be quite comfortable and snug, and talk and laugh all the way +home. And in the first place, let us hear what has happened to you all +since you went away. Have you seen any pleasant men? Have you had any +flirting? I was in great hopes that one of you would have got a husband +before you came back. Jane will be quite an old maid soon, I declare. +She is almost three-and-twenty! Lord! how ashamed I should be of not +being married before three-and-twenty! My aunt Philips wants you so to +get husbands you can’t think. She says Lizzy had better have taken Mr. +Collins; but _I_ do not think there would have been any fun in it. Lord! +how I should like to be married before any of you! and then I would +_chaperon_ you about to all the balls. Dear me! we had such a good piece +of fun the other day at Colonel Forster’s! Kitty and me were to spend +the day there, and Mrs. Forster promised to have a little dance in the +evening; (by-the-bye, Mrs. Forster and me are _such_ friends!) and so +she asked the two Harringtons to come: but Harriet was ill, and so Pen +was forced to come by herself; and then, what do you think we did? We +dressed up Chamberlayne in woman’s clothes, on purpose to pass for a +lady,--only think what fun! Not a soul knew of it, but Colonel and Mrs. +Forster, and Kitty and me, except my aunt, for we were forced to borrow +one of her gowns; and you cannot imagine how well he looked! When Denny, +and Wickham, and Pratt, and two or three more of the men came in, they +did not know him in the least. Lord! how I laughed! and so did Mrs. +Forster. I thought I should have died. And _that_ made the men suspect +something, and then they soon found out what was the matter.” + +With such kind of histories of their parties and good jokes did Lydia, +assisted by Kitty’s hints and additions, endeavour to amuse her +companions all the way to Longbourn. Elizabeth listened as little as she +could, but there was no escaping the frequent mention of Wickham’s name. + +Their reception at home was most kind. Mrs. Bennet rejoiced to see Jane +in undiminished beauty; and more than once during dinner did Mr. Bennet +say voluntarily to Elizabeth,---- + +“I am glad you are come back, Lizzy.” + +Their party in the dining-room was large, for almost all the Lucases +came to meet Maria and hear the news; and various were the subjects +which occupied them: Lady Lucas was inquiring of Maria, across the +table, after the welfare and poultry of her eldest daughter; Mrs. Bennet +was doubly engaged, on one hand collecting an account of the present +fashions from Jane, who sat some way below her, and on the other, +retailing them all to the younger Miss Lucases; and Lydia, in a voice +rather louder than any other person’s, was enumerating the various +pleasures of the morning to anybody who would hear her. + +“Oh, Mary,” said she, “I wish you had gone with us, for we had such fun! +as we went along Kitty and me drew up all the blinds, and pretended +there was nobody in the coach; and I should have gone so all the way, if +Kitty had not been sick; and when we got to the George, I do think we +behaved very handsomely, for we treated the other three with the nicest +cold luncheon in the world, and if you would have gone, we would have +treated you too. And then when we came away it was such fun! I thought +we never should have got into the coach. I was ready to die of laughter. +And then we were so merry all the way home! we talked and laughed so +loud, that anybody might have heard us ten miles off!” + +To this, Mary very gravely replied, “Far be it from me, my dear sister, +to depreciate such pleasures. They would doubtless be congenial with the +generality of female minds. But I confess they would have no charms for +_me_. I should infinitely prefer a book.” + +But of this answer Lydia heard not a word. She seldom listened to +anybody for more than half a minute, and never attended to Mary at all. + +In the afternoon Lydia was urgent with the rest of the girls to walk to +Meryton, and see how everybody went on; but Elizabeth steadily opposed +the scheme. It should not be said, that the Miss Bennets could not be at +home half a day before they were in pursuit of the officers. There was +another reason, too, for her opposition. She dreaded seeing Wickham +again, and was resolved to avoid it as long as possible. The comfort to +_her_, of the regiment’s approaching removal, was indeed beyond +expression. In a fortnight they were to go, and once gone, she hoped +there could be nothing more to plague her on his account. + +She had not been many hours at home, before she found that the Brighton +scheme, of which Lydia had given them a hint at the inn, was under +frequent discussion between her parents. Elizabeth saw directly that her +father had not the smallest intention of yielding; but his answers were +at the same time so vague and equivocal, that her mother, though often +disheartened, had never yet despaired of succeeding at last. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + + +[Illustration] + +Elizabeth’s impatience to acquaint Jane with what had happened could no +longer be overcome; and at length resolving to suppress every particular +in which her sister was concerned, and preparing her to be surprised, +she related to her the next morning the chief of the scene between Mr. +Darcy and herself. + +Miss Bennet’s astonishment was soon lessened by the strong sisterly +partiality which made any admiration of Elizabeth appear perfectly +natural; and all surprise was shortly lost in other feelings. She was +sorry that Mr. Darcy should have delivered his sentiments in a manner so +little suited to recommend them; but still more was she grieved for the +unhappiness which her sister’s refusal must have given him. + +“His being so sure of succeeding was wrong,” said she, “and certainly +ought not to have appeared; but consider how much it must increase his +disappointment.” + +“Indeed,” replied Elizabeth, “I am heartily sorry for him; but he has +other feelings which will probably soon drive away his regard for me. +You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?” + +“Blame you! Oh, no.” + +“But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of Wickham?” + +“No--I do not know that you were wrong in saying what you did.” + +“But you _will_ know it, when I have told you what happened the very +next day.” + +She then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its contents as far +as they concerned George Wickham. What a stroke was this for poor Jane, +who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that +so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind as was here +collected in one individual! Nor was Darcy’s vindication, though +grateful to her feelings, capable of consoling her for such discovery. +Most earnestly did she labour to prove the probability of error, and +seek to clear one, without involving the other. + +“This will not do,” said Elizabeth; “you never will be able to make both +of them good for anything. Take your choice, but you must be satisfied +with only one. There is but such a quantity of merit between them; just +enough to make one good sort of man; and of late it has been shifting +about pretty much. For my part, I am inclined to believe it all Mr. +Darcy’s, but you shall do as you choose.” + +It was some time, however, before a smile could be extorted from Jane. + +“I do not know when I have been more shocked,” said she. “Wickham so +very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr. Darcy! dear Lizzy, +only consider what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! and +with the knowledge of your ill opinion too! and having to relate such a +thing of his sister! It is really too distressing, I am sure you must +feel it so.” + +“Oh no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing you so full +of both. I know you will do him such ample justice, that I am growing +every moment more unconcerned and indifferent. Your profusion makes me +saving; and if you lament over him much longer, my heart will be as +light as a feather.” + +“Poor Wickham! there is such an expression of goodness in his +countenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner.” + +“There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those +two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the +appearance of it.” + +“I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the _appearance_ of it as you +used to do.” + +“And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike +to him, without any reason. It is such a spur to one’s genius, such an +opening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind. One may be continually +abusive without saying anything just; but one cannot be always laughing +at a man without now and then stumbling on something witty.” + +“Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am sure you could not treat +the matter as you do now.” + +“Indeed, I could not. I was uncomfortable enough, I was very +uncomfortable--I may say unhappy. And with no one to speak to of what I +felt, no Jane to comfort me, and say that I had not been so very weak, +and vain, and nonsensical, as I knew I had! Oh, how I wanted you!” + +“How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong expressions +in speaking of Wickham to Mr. Darcy, for now they _do_ appear wholly +undeserved.” + +“Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness is a most +natural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging. There is +one point on which I want your advice. I want to be told whether I +ought, or ought not, to make our acquaintance in general understand +Wickham’s character.” + +Miss Bennet paused a little, and then replied, “Surely there can be no +occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. What is your own opinion?” + +“That it ought not to be attempted. Mr. Darcy has not authorized me to +make his communication public. On the contrary, every particular +relative to his sister was meant to be kept as much as possible to +myself; and if I endeavour to undeceive people as to the rest of his +conduct, who will believe me? The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is +so violent, that it would be the death of half the good people in +Meryton, to attempt to place him in an amiable light. I am not equal to +it. Wickham will soon be gone; and, therefore, it will not signify to +anybody here what he really is. Some time hence it will be all found +out, and then we may laugh at their stupidity in not knowing it before. +At present I will say nothing about it.” + +“You are quite right. To have his errors made public might ruin him for +ever. He is now, perhaps, sorry for what he has done, and anxious to +re-establish a character. We must not make him desperate.” + +The tumult of Elizabeth’s mind was allayed by this conversation. She +had got rid of two of the secrets which had weighed on her for a +fortnight, and was certain of a willing listener in Jane, whenever she +might wish to talk again of either. But there was still something +lurking behind, of which prudence forbade the disclosure. She dared not +relate the other half of Mr. Darcy’s letter, nor explain to her sister +how sincerely she had been valued by his friend. Here was knowledge in +which no one could partake; and she was sensible that nothing less than +a perfect understanding between the parties could justify her in +throwing off this last encumbrance of mystery. “And then,” said she, “if +that very improbable event should ever take place, I shall merely be +able to tell what Bingley may tell in a much more agreeable manner +himself. The liberty of communication cannot be mine till it has lost +all its value!” + +She was now, on being settled at home, at leisure to observe the real +state of her sister’s spirits. Jane was not happy. She still cherished a +very tender affection for Bingley. Having never even fancied herself in +love before, her regard had all the warmth of first attachment, and from +her age and disposition, greater steadiness than first attachments often +boast; and so fervently did she value his remembrance, and prefer him to +every other man, that all her good sense, and all her attention to the +feelings of her friends, were requisite to check the indulgence of those +regrets which must have been injurious to her own health and their +tranquillity. + +“Well, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet, one day, “what is your opinion _now_ of +this sad business of Jane’s? For my part, I am determined never to speak +of it again to anybody. I told my sister Philips so the other day. But I +cannot find out that Jane saw anything of him in London. Well, he is a +very undeserving young man--and I do not suppose there is the least +chance in the world of her ever getting him now. There is no talk of his +coming to Netherfield again in the summer; and I have inquired of +everybody, too, who is likely to know.” + +[Illustration: + + “I am determined never to speak of it again” +] + +“I do not believe that he will ever live at Netherfield any more.” + +“Oh, well! it is just as he chooses. Nobody wants him to come; though I +shall always say that he used my daughter extremely ill; and, if I was +her, I would not have put up with it. Well, my comfort is, I am sure +Jane will die of a broken heart, and then he will be sorry for what he +has done.” + +But as Elizabeth could not receive comfort from any such expectation she +made no answer. + +“Well, Lizzy,” continued her mother, soon afterwards, “and so the +Collinses live very comfortable, do they? Well, well, I only hope it +will last. And what sort of table do they keep? Charlotte is an +excellent manager, I dare say. If she is half as sharp as her mother, +she is saving enough. There is nothing extravagant in _their_ +housekeeping, I dare say.” + +“No, nothing at all.” + +“A great deal of good management, depend upon it. Yes, yes. _They_ will +take care not to outrun their income. _They_ will never be distressed +for money. Well, much good may it do them! And so, I suppose, they often +talk of having Longbourn when your father is dead. They look upon it +quite as their own, I dare say, whenever that happens.” + +“It was a subject which they could not mention before me.” + +“No; it would have been strange if they had. But I make no doubt they +often talk of it between themselves. Well, if they can be easy with an +estate that is not lawfully their own, so much the better. _I_ should be +ashamed of having one that was only entailed on me.” + + + + +[Illustration: + +“When Colonel Miller’s regiment went away” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + + +[Illustration] + +The first week of their return was soon gone. The second began. It was +the last of the regiment’s stay in Meryton, and all the young ladies in +the neighbourhood were drooping apace. The dejection was almost +universal. The elder Miss Bennets alone were still able to eat, drink, +and sleep, and pursue the usual course of their employments. Very +frequently were they reproached for this insensibility by Kitty and +Lydia, whose own misery was extreme, and who could not comprehend such +hard-heartedness in any of the family. + +“Good Heaven! What is to become of us? What are we to do?” would they +often exclaim in the bitterness of woe. “How can you be smiling so, +Lizzy?” + +Their affectionate mother shared all their grief; she remembered what +she had herself endured on a similar occasion five-and-twenty years ago. + +“I am sure,” said she, “I cried for two days together when Colonel +Miller’s regiment went away. I thought I should have broke my heart.” + +“I am sure I shall break _mine_,” said Lydia. + +“If one could but go to Brighton!” observed Mrs. Bennet. + +“Oh yes!--if one could but go to Brighton! But papa is so disagreeable.” + +“A little sea-bathing would set me up for ever.” + +“And my aunt Philips is sure it would do _me_ a great deal of good,” +added Kitty. + +Such were the kind of lamentations resounding perpetually through +Longbourn House. Elizabeth tried to be diverted by them; but all sense +of pleasure was lost in shame. She felt anew the justice of Mr. Darcy’s +objections; and never had she before been so much disposed to pardon his +interference in the views of his friend. + +But the gloom of Lydia’s prospect was shortly cleared away; for she +received an invitation from Mrs. Forster, the wife of the colonel of the +regiment, to accompany her to Brighton. This invaluable friend was a +very young woman, and very lately married. A resemblance in good-humour +and good spirits had recommended her and Lydia to each other, and out of +their _three_ months’ acquaintance they had been intimate _two_. + +The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adoration of Mrs. Forster, +the delight of Mrs. Bennet, and the mortification of Kitty, are scarcely +to be described. Wholly inattentive to her sister’s feelings, Lydia flew +about the house in restless ecstasy, calling for everyone’s +congratulations, and laughing and talking with more violence than ever; +whilst the luckless Kitty continued in the parlour repining at her fate +in terms as unreasonable as her accent was peevish. + +“I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask _me_ as well as Lydia,” +said she, “though I am _not_ her particular friend. I have just as much +right to be asked as she has, and more too, for I am two years older.” + +In vain did Elizabeth attempt to make her reasonable, and Jane to make +her resigned. As for Elizabeth herself, this invitation was so far from +exciting in her the same feelings as in her mother and Lydia, that she +considered it as the death-warrant of all possibility of common sense +for the latter; and detestable as such a step must make her, were it +known, she could not help secretly advising her father not to let her +go. She represented to him all the improprieties of Lydia’s general +behaviour, the little advantage she could derive from the friendship of +such a woman as Mrs. Forster, and the probability of her being yet more +imprudent with such a companion at Brighton, where the temptations must +be greater than at home. He heard her attentively, and then said,-- + +“Lydia will never be easy till she has exposed herself in some public +place or other, and we can never expect her to do it with so little +expense or inconvenience to her family as under the present +circumstances.” + +“If you were aware,” said Elizabeth, “of the very great disadvantage to +us all, which must arise from the public notice of Lydia’s unguarded and +imprudent manner, nay, which has already arisen from it, I am sure you +would judge differently in the affair.” + +“Already arisen!” repeated Mr. Bennet. “What! has she frightened away +some of your lovers? Poor little Lizzy! But do not be cast down. Such +squeamish youths as cannot bear to be connected with a little absurdity +are not worth a regret. Come, let me see the list of the pitiful fellows +who have been kept aloof by Lydia’s folly.” + +“Indeed, you are mistaken. I have no such injuries to resent. It is not +of peculiar, but of general evils, which I am now complaining. Our +importance, our respectability in the world, must be affected by the +wild volatility, the assurance and disdain of all restraint which mark +Lydia’s character. Excuse me,--for I must speak plainly. If you, my dear +father, will not take the trouble of checking her exuberant spirits, and +of teaching her that her present pursuits are not to be the business of +her life, she will soon be beyond the reach of amendment. Her character +will be fixed; and she will, at sixteen, be the most determined flirt +that ever made herself and her family ridiculous;--a flirt, too, in the +worst and meanest degree of flirtation; without any attraction beyond +youth and a tolerable person; and, from the ignorance and emptiness of +her mind, wholly unable to ward off any portion of that universal +contempt which her rage for admiration will excite. In this danger Kitty +is also comprehended. She will follow wherever Lydia leads. Vain, +ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled! Oh, my dear father, can you +suppose it possible that they will not be censured and despised wherever +they are known, and that their sisters will not be often involved in the +disgrace?” + +Mr. Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the subject; and, +affectionately taking her hand, said, in reply,-- + +“Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane are known, +you must be respected and valued; and you will not appear to less +advantage for having a couple of--or I may say, three--very silly +sisters. We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go to +Brighton. Let her go, then. Colonel Forster is a sensible man, and will +keep her out of any real mischief; and she is luckily too poor to be an +object of prey to anybody. At Brighton she will be of less importance +even as a common flirt than she has been here. The officers will find +women better worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that her being +there may teach her her own insignificance. At any rate, she cannot grow +many degrees worse, without authorizing us to lock her up for the rest +of her life.” + +With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be content; but her own opinion +continued the same, and she left him disappointed and sorry. It was not +in her nature, however, to increase her vexations by dwelling on them. +She was confident of having performed her duty; and to fret over +unavoidable evils, or augment them by anxiety, was no part of her +disposition. + +Had Lydia and her mother known the substance of her conference with her +father, their indignation would hardly have found expression in their +united volubility. In Lydia’s imagination, a visit to Brighton comprised +every possibility of earthly happiness. She saw, with the creative eye +of fancy, the streets of that gay bathing-place covered with officers. +She saw herself the object of attention to tens and to scores of them at +present unknown. She saw all the glories of the camp: its tents +stretched forth in beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded with the young +and the gay, and dazzling with scarlet; and, to complete the view, she +saw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly flirting with at least six +officers at once. + +[Illustration: + +“Tenderly flirting” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +Had she known that her sister sought to tear her from such prospects and +such realities as these, what would have been her sensations? They could +have been understood only by her mother, who might have felt nearly the +same. Lydia’s going to Brighton was all that consoled her for the +melancholy conviction of her husband’s never intending to go there +himself. + +But they were entirely ignorant of what had passed; and their raptures +continued, with little intermission, to the very day of Lydia’s leaving +home. + +Elizabeth was now to see Mr. Wickham for the last time. Having been +frequently in company with him since her return, agitation was pretty +well over; the agitations of former partiality entirely so. She had even +learnt to detect, in the very gentleness which had first delighted her, +an affectation and a sameness to disgust and weary. In his present +behaviour to herself, moreover, she had a fresh source of displeasure; +for the inclination he soon testified of renewing those attentions which +had marked the early part of their acquaintance could only serve, after +what had since passed, to provoke her. She lost all concern for him in +finding herself thus selected as the object of such idle and frivolous +gallantry; and while she steadily repressed it, could not but feel the +reproof contained in his believing, that however long, and for whatever +cause, his attentions had been withdrawn, her vanity would be gratified, +and her preference secured, at any time, by their renewal. + +On the very last day of the regiment’s remaining in Meryton, he dined, +with others of the officers, at Longbourn; and so little was Elizabeth +disposed to part from him in good-humour, that, on his making some +inquiry as to the manner in which her time had passed at Hunsford, she +mentioned Colonel Fitzwilliam’s and Mr. Darcy’s having both spent three +weeks at Rosings, and asked him if he were acquainted with the former. + +He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed; but, with a moment’s +recollection, and a returning smile, replied, that he had formerly seen +him often; and, after observing that he was a very gentlemanlike man, +asked her how she had liked him. Her answer was warmly in his favour. +With an air of indifference, he soon afterwards added, “How long did you +say that he was at Rosings?” + +“Nearly three weeks.” + +“And you saw him frequently?” + +“Yes, almost every day.” + +“His manners are very different from his cousin’s.” + +“Yes, very different; but I think Mr. Darcy improves on acquaintance.” + +“Indeed!” cried Wickham, with a look which did not escape her. “And pray +may I ask--” but checking himself, he added, in a gayer tone, “Is it in +address that he improves? Has he deigned to add aught of civility to his +ordinary style? for I dare not hope,” he continued, in a lower and more +serious tone, “that he is improved in essentials.” + +“Oh, no!” said Elizabeth. “In essentials, I believe, he is very much +what he ever was.” + +While she spoke, Wickham looked as if scarcely knowing whether to +rejoice over her words or to distrust their meaning. There was a +something in her countenance which made him listen with an apprehensive +and anxious attention, while she added,-- + +“When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean that +either his mind or manners were in a state of improvement; but that, +from knowing him better, his disposition was better understood.” + +Wickham’s alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and agitated +look; for a few minutes he was silent; till, shaking off his +embarrassment, he turned to her again, and said in the gentlest of +accents,-- + +“You, who so well know my feelings towards Mr. Darcy, will readily +comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assume +even the _appearance_ of what is right. His pride, in that direction, +may be of service, if not to himself, to many others, for it must deter +him from such foul misconduct as I have suffered by. I only fear that +the sort of cautiousness to which you, I imagine, have been alluding, is +merely adopted on his visits to his aunt, of whose good opinion and +judgment he stands much in awe. His fear of her has always operated, I +know, when they were together; and a good deal is to be imputed to his +wish of forwarding the match with Miss de Bourgh, which I am certain he +has very much at heart.” + +Elizabeth could not repress a smile at this, but she answered only by a +slight inclination of the head. She saw that he wanted to engage her on +the old subject of his grievances, and she was in no humour to indulge +him. The rest of the evening passed with the _appearance_, on his side, +of usual cheerfulness, but with no further attempt to distinguish +Elizabeth; and they parted at last with mutual civility, and possibly a +mutual desire of never meeting again. + +When the party broke up, Lydia returned with Mrs. Forster to Meryton, +from whence they were to set out early the next morning. The separation +between her and her family was rather noisy than pathetic. Kitty was the +only one who shed tears; but she did weep from vexation and envy. Mrs. +Bennet was diffuse in her good wishes for the felicity of her daughter, +and impressive in her injunctions that she would not miss the +opportunity of enjoying herself as much as possible,--advice which there +was every reason to believe would be attended to; and, in the clamorous +happiness of Lydia herself in bidding farewell, the more gentle adieus +of her sisters were uttered without being heard. + + + + +[Illustration: + +The arrival of the +Gardiners +] + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + + +[Illustration] + +Had Elizabeth’s opinion been all drawn from her own family, she could +not have formed a very pleasing picture of conjugal felicity or domestic +comfort. Her father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance +of good-humour which youth and beauty generally give, had married a +woman whose weak understanding and illiberal mind had very early in +their marriage put an end to all real affection for her. Respect, +esteem, and confidence had vanished for ever; and all his views of +domestic happiness were overthrown. But Mr. Bennet was not of a +disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment which his own +imprudence had brought on in any of those pleasures which too often +console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice. He was fond of +the country and of books; and from these tastes had arisen his principal +enjoyments. To his wife he was very little otherwise indebted than as +her ignorance and folly had contributed to his amusement. This is not +the sort of happiness which a man would in general wish to owe to his +wife; but where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true +philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given. + +Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of her +father’s behaviour as a husband. She had always seen it with pain; but +respecting his abilities, and grateful for his affectionate treatment of +herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook, and to +banish from her thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation +and decorum which, in exposing his wife to the contempt of her own +children, was so highly reprehensible. But she had never felt so +strongly as now the disadvantages which must attend the children of so +unsuitable a marriage, nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising +from so ill-judged a direction of talents--talents which, rightly used, +might at least have preserved the respectability of his daughters, even +if incapable of enlarging the mind of his wife. + +When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham’s departure, she found little +other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the regiment. Their parties +abroad were less varied than before; and at home she had a mother and +sister, whose constant repinings at the dulness of everything around +them threw a real gloom over their domestic circle; and, though Kitty +might in time regain her natural degree of sense, since the disturbers +of her brain were removed, her other sister, from whose disposition +greater evil might be apprehended, was likely to be hardened in all her +folly and assurance, by a situation of such double danger as a +watering-place and a camp. Upon the whole, therefore, she found, what +has been sometimes found before, that an event to which she had looked +forward with impatient desire, did not, in taking place, bring all the +satisfaction she had promised herself. It was consequently necessary to +name some other period for the commencement of actual felicity; to have +some other point on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and by +again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the +present, and prepare for another disappointment. Her tour to the Lakes +was now the object of her happiest thoughts: it was her best consolation +for all the uncomfortable hours which the discontentedness of her mother +and Kitty made inevitable; and could she have included Jane in the +scheme, every part of it would have been perfect. + +“But it is fortunate,” thought she, “that I have something to wish for. +Were the whole arrangement complete, my disappointment would be certain. +But here, by carrying with me one ceaseless source of regret in my +sister’s absence, I may reasonably hope to have all my expectations of +pleasure realized. A scheme of which every part promises delight can +never be successful; and general disappointment is only warded off by +the defence of some little peculiar vexation.” + +When Lydia went away she promised to write very often and very minutely +to her mother and Kitty; but her letters were always long expected, and +always very short. Those to her mother contained little else than that +they were just returned from the library, where such and such officers +had attended them, and where she had seen such beautiful ornaments as +made her quite wild; that she had a new gown, or a new parasol, which +she would have described more fully, but was obliged to leave off in a +violent hurry, as Mrs. Forster called her, and they were going to the +camp; and from her correspondence with her sister there was still less +to be learnt, for her letters to Kitty, though rather longer, were much +too full of lines under the words to be made public. + +After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, health, +good-humour, and cheerfulness began to reappear at Longbourn. Everything +wore a happier aspect. The families who had been in town for the winter +came back again, and summer finery and summer engagements arose. Mrs. +Bennet was restored to her usual querulous serenity; and by the middle +of June Kitty was so much recovered as to be able to enter Meryton +without tears,--an event of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth +hope, that by the following Christmas she might be so tolerably +reasonable as not to mention an officer above once a day, unless, by +some cruel and malicious arrangement at the War Office, another regiment +should be quartered in Meryton. + +The time fixed for the beginning of their northern tour was now fast +approaching; and a fortnight only was wanting of it, when a letter +arrived from Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed its commencement and +curtailed its extent. Mr. Gardiner would be prevented by business from +setting out till a fortnight later in July, and must be in London again +within a month; and as that left too short a period for them to go so +far, and see so much as they had proposed, or at least to see it with +the leisure and comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give up +the Lakes, and substitute a more contracted tour; and, according to the +present plan, were to go no farther northward than Derbyshire. In that +county there was enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their three +weeks; and to Mrs. Gardiner it had a peculiarly strong attraction. The +town where she had formerly passed some years of her life, and where +they were now to spend a few days, was probably as great an object of +her curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth, +Dovedale, or the Peak. + +Elizabeth was excessively disappointed: she had set her heart on seeing +the Lakes; and still thought there might have been time enough. But it +was her business to be satisfied--and certainly her temper to be happy; +and all was soon right again. + +With the mention of Derbyshire, there were many ideas connected. It was +impossible for her to see the word without thinking of Pemberley and its +owner. “But surely,” said she, “I may enter his county with impunity, +and rob it of a few petrified spars, without his perceiving me.” + +The period of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks were to pass away +before her uncle and aunt’s arrival. But they did pass away, and Mr. and +Mrs. Gardiner, with their four children, did at length appear at +Longbourn. The children, two girls of six and eight years old, and two +younger boys, were to be left under the particular care of their cousin +Jane, who was the general favourite, and whose steady sense and +sweetness of temper exactly adapted her for attending to them in every +way--teaching them, playing with them, and loving them. + +The Gardiners stayed only one night at Longbourn, and set off the next +morning with Elizabeth in pursuit of novelty and amusement. One +enjoyment was certain--that of suitableness as companions; a +suitableness which comprehended health and temper to bear +inconveniences--cheerfulness to enhance every pleasure--and affection +and intelligence, which might supply it among themselves if there were +disappointments abroad. + +It is not the object of this work to give a description of Derbyshire, +nor of any of the remarkable places through which their route thither +lay--Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth, Birmingham, etc., are +sufficiently known. A small part of Derbyshire is all the present +concern. To the little town of Lambton, the scene of Mrs. Gardiner’s +former residence, and where she had lately learned that some +acquaintance still remained, they bent their steps, after having seen +all the principal wonders of the country; and within five miles of +Lambton, Elizabeth found, from her aunt, that Pemberley was situated. It +was not in their direct road; nor more than a mile or two out of it. In +talking over their route the evening before, Mrs. Gardiner expressed an +inclination to see the place again. Mr. Gardiner declared his +willingness, and Elizabeth was applied to for her approbation. + +“My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have heard so +much?” said her aunt. “A place, too, with which so many of your +acquaintance are connected. Wickham passed all his youth there, you +know.” + +Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no business at +Pemberley, and was obliged to assume a disinclination for seeing it. She +must own that she was tired of great houses: after going over so many, +she really had no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains. + +Mrs. Gardiner abused her stupidity. “If it were merely a fine house +richly furnished,” said she, “I should not care about it myself; but the +grounds are delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the +country.” + +Elizabeth said no more; but her mind could not acquiesce. The +possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy, while viewing the place, instantly +occurred. It would be dreadful! She blushed at the very idea; and +thought it would be better to speak openly to her aunt, than to run such +a risk. But against this there were objections; and she finally resolved +that it could be the last resource, if her private inquiries as to the +absence of the family were unfavourably answered. + +Accordingly, when she retired at night, she asked the chambermaid +whether Pemberley were not a very fine place, what was the name of its +proprietor, and, with no little alarm, whether the family were down for +the summer? A most welcome negative followed the last question; and her +alarms being now removed, she was at leisure to feel a great deal of +curiosity to see the house herself; and when the subject was revived the +next morning, and she was again applied to, could readily answer, and +with a proper air of indifference, that she had not really any dislike +to the scheme. + +To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go. + + + + +[Illustration: + + “Conjecturing as to the date” +] + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + + +[Illustration] + +Elizabeth, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance of +Pemberley Woods with some perturbation; and when at length they turned +in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter. + +The park was very large, and contained great variety of ground. They +entered it in one of its lowest points, and drove for some time through +a beautiful wood stretching over a wide extent. + +Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired +every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for +half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable +eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by +Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of the valley, into which +the road with some abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome stone +building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high +woody hills; and in front a stream of some natural importance was +swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks +were neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She +had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural +beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were +all of them warm in their admiration; and at that moment she felt that +to be mistress of Pemberley might be something! + +They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door; and, +while examining the nearer aspect of the house, all her apprehension of +meeting its owner returned. She dreaded lest the chambermaid had been +mistaken. On applying to see the place, they were admitted into the +hall; and Elizabeth, as they waited for the housekeeper, had leisure to +wonder at her being where she was. + +The housekeeper came; a respectable looking elderly woman, much less +fine, and more civil, than she had any notion of finding her. They +followed her into the dining-parlour. It was a large, well-proportioned +room, handsomely fitted up. Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, went +to a window to enjoy its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, from +which they had descended, receiving increased abruptness from the +distance, was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was +good; and she looked on the whole scene, the river, the trees scattered +on its banks, and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace +it, with delight. As they passed into other rooms, these objects were +taking different positions; but from every window there were beauties +to be seen. The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture +suitable to the fortune of their proprietor; but Elizabeth saw, with +admiration of his taste, that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly +fine,--with less of splendour, and more real elegance, than the +furniture of Rosings. + +“And of this place,” thought she, “I might have been mistress! With +these rooms I might have now been familiarly acquainted! Instead of +viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced in them as my own, and +welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and aunt. But, no,” recollecting +herself, “that could never be; my uncle and aunt would have been lost to +me; I should not have been allowed to invite them.” + +This was a lucky recollection--it saved her from something like regret. + +She longed to inquire of the housekeeper whether her master were really +absent, but had not courage for it. At length, however, the question was +asked by her uncle; and she turned away with alarm, while Mrs. Reynolds +replied, that he was; adding, “But we expect him to-morrow, with a large +party of friends.” How rejoiced was Elizabeth that their own journey had +not by any circumstance been delayed a day! + +Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She approached, and saw +the likeness of Mr. Wickham, suspended, amongst several other +miniatures, over the mantel-piece. Her aunt asked her, smilingly, how +she liked it. The housekeeper came forward, and told them it was the +picture of a young gentleman, the son of her late master’s steward, who +had been brought up by him at his own expense. “He is now gone into the +army,” she added; “but I am afraid he has turned out very wild.” + +Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizabeth could not +return it. + +“And that,” said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another of the miniatures, +“is my master--and very like him. It was drawn at the same time as the +other--about eight years ago.” + +“I have heard much of your master’s fine person,” said Mrs. Gardiner, +looking at the picture; “it is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell +us whether it is like or not.” + +Mrs. Reynolds’ respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this +intimation of her knowing her master. + +“Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?” + +Elizabeth coloured, and said, “A little.” + +“And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma’am?” + +“Yes, very handsome.” + +“I am sure _I_ know none so handsome; but in the gallery upstairs you +will see a finer, larger picture of him than this. This room was my late +master’s favourite room, and these miniatures are just as they used to +be then. He was very fond of them.” + +This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr. Wickham’s being among them. + +Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to one of Miss Darcy, drawn +when she was only eight years old. + +“And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?” said Mr. Gardiner. + +“Oh, yes--the handsomest young lady that ever was seen; and so +accomplished! She plays and sings all day long. In the next room is a +new instrument just come down for her--a present from my master: she +comes here to-morrow with him.” + +Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were easy and pleasant, encouraged her +communicativeness by his questions and remarks: Mrs. Reynolds, either +from pride or attachment, had evidently great pleasure in talking of her +master and his sister. + +“Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?” + +“Not so much as I could wish, sir: but I dare say he may spend half his +time here; and Miss Darcy is always down for the summer months.” + +“Except,” thought Elizabeth, “when she goes to Ramsgate.” + +“If your master would marry, you might see more of him.” + +“Yes, sir; but I do not know when _that_ will be. I do not know who is +good enough for him.” + +Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth could not help saying, “It is +very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think so.” + +“I say no more than the truth, and what everybody will say that knows +him,” replied the other. Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far; +and she listened with increasing astonishment as the housekeeper added, +“I have never had a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him +ever since he was four years old.” + +This was praise of all others most extraordinary, most opposite to her +ideas. That he was not a good-tempered man had been her firmest opinion. +Her keenest attention was awakened: she longed to hear more; and was +grateful to her uncle for saying,-- + +“There are very few people of whom so much can be said. You are lucky in +having such a master.” + +“Yes, sir, I know I am. If I were to go through the world, I could not +meet with a better. But I have always observed, that they who are +good-natured when children, are good-natured when they grow up; and he +was always the sweetest tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the +world.” + +Elizabeth almost stared at her. “Can this be Mr. Darcy?” thought she. + +“His father was an excellent man,” said Mrs. Gardiner. + +“Yes, ma’am, that he was indeed; and his son will be just like him--just +as affable to the poor.” + +Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for more. Mrs. +Reynolds could interest her on no other point. She related the subjects +of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, and the price of the +furniture in vain. Mr. Gardiner, highly amused by the kind of family +prejudice, to which he attributed her excessive commendation of her +master, soon led again to the subject; and she dwelt with energy on his +many merits, as they proceeded together up the great staircase. + +“He is the best landlord, and the best master,” said she, “that ever +lived. Not like the wild young men now-a-days, who think of nothing but +themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but what will +give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never +saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle +away like other young men.” + +“In what an amiable light does this place him!” thought Elizabeth. + +“This fine account of him,” whispered her aunt as they walked, “is not +quite consistent with his behaviour to our poor friend.” + +“Perhaps we might be deceived.” + +“That is not very likely; our authority was too good.” + +On reaching the spacious lobby above, they were shown into a very pretty +sitting-room, lately fitted up with greater elegance and lightness than +the apartments below; and were informed that it was but just done to +give pleasure to Miss Darcy, who had taken a liking to the room, when +last at Pemberley. + +“He is certainly a good brother,” said Elizabeth, as she walked towards +one of the windows. + +Mrs. Reynolds anticipated Miss Darcy’s delight, when she should enter +the room. “And this is always the way with him,” she added. “Whatever +can give his sister any pleasure, is sure to be done in a moment. There +is nothing he would not do for her.” + +The picture gallery, and two or three of the principal bed-rooms, were +all that remained to be shown. In the former were many good paintings: +but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art; and from such as had been already +visible below, she had willingly turned to look at some drawings of Miss +Darcy’s, in crayons, whose subjects were usually more interesting, and +also more intelligible. + +In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could have +little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked on in quest +of the only face whose features would be known to her. At last it +arrested her--and she beheld a striking resemblance of Mr. Darcy, with +such a smile over the face, as she remembered to have sometimes seen, +when he looked at her. She stood several minutes before the picture, in +earnest contemplation, and returned to it again before they quitted the +gallery. Mrs. Reynolds informed them, that it had been taken in his +father’s lifetime. + +There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth’s mind, a more gentle +sensation towards the original than she had ever felt in the height of +their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs. Reynolds +was of no trifling nature. What praise is more valuable than the praise +of an intelligent servant? As a brother, a landlord, a master, she +considered how many people’s happiness were in his guardianship! How +much of pleasure or pain it was in his power to bestow! How much of good +or evil must be done by him! Every idea that had been brought forward by +the housekeeper was favourable to his character; and as she stood before +the canvas, on which he was represented, and fixed his eyes upon +herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper sentiment of gratitude +than it had ever raised before: she remembered its warmth, and softened +its impropriety of expression. + +When all of the house that was open to general inspection had been seen, +they returned down stairs; and, taking leave of the housekeeper, were +consigned over to the gardener, who met them at the hall door. + +As they walked across the lawn towards the river, Elizabeth turned back +to look again; her uncle and aunt stopped also; and while the former was +conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself +suddenly came forward from the road which led behind it to the stables. + +They were within twenty yards of each other; and so abrupt was his +appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their eyes +instantly met, and the cheeks of each were overspread with the deepest +blush. He absolutely started, and for a moment seemed immovable from +surprise; but shortly recovering himself, advanced towards the party, +and spoke to Elizabeth, if not in terms of perfect composure, at least +of perfect civility. + +She had instinctively turned away; but stopping on his approach, +received his compliments with an embarrassment impossible to be +overcome. Had his first appearance, or his resemblance to the picture +they had just been examining, been insufficient to assure the other two +that they now saw Mr. Darcy, the gardener’s expression of surprise, on +beholding his master, must immediately have told it. They stood a little +aloof while he was talking to their niece, who, astonished and confused, +scarcely dared lift her eyes to his face, and knew not what answer she +returned to his civil inquiries after her family. Amazed at the +alteration of his manner since they last parted, every sentence that he +uttered was increasing her embarrassment; and every idea of the +impropriety of her being found there recurring to her mind, the few +minutes in which they continued together were some of the most +uncomfortable of her life. Nor did he seem much more at ease; when he +spoke, his accent had none of its usual sedateness; and he repeated his +inquiries as to the time of her having left Longbourn, and of her stay +in Derbyshire, so often, and in so hurried a way, as plainly spoke the +distraction of his thoughts. + +At length, every idea seemed to fail him; and after standing a few +moments without saying a word, he suddenly recollected himself, and took +leave. + +The others then joined her, and expressed their admiration of his +figure; but Elizabeth heard not a word, and, wholly engrossed by her own +feelings, followed them in silence. She was overpowered by shame and +vexation. Her coming there was the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged +thing in the world! How strange must it appear to him! In what a +disgraceful light might it not strike so vain a man! It might seem as if +she had purposely thrown herself in his way again! Oh! why did she come? +or, why did he thus come a day before he was expected? Had they been +only ten minutes sooner, they should have been beyond the reach of his +discrimination; for it was plain that he was that moment arrived, that +moment alighted from his horse or his carriage. She blushed again and +again over the perverseness of the meeting. And his behaviour, so +strikingly altered,--what could it mean? That he should even speak to +her was amazing!--but to speak with such civility, to inquire after her +family! Never in her life had she seen his manners so little dignified, +never had he spoken with such gentleness as on this unexpected meeting. +What a contrast did it offer to his last address in Rosings Park, when +he put his letter into her hand! She knew not what to think, or how to +account for it. + +They had now entered a beautiful walk by the side of the water, and +every step was bringing forward a nobler fall of ground, or a finer +reach of the woods to which they were approaching: but it was some time +before Elizabeth was sensible of any of it; and, though she answered +mechanically to the repeated appeals of her uncle and aunt, and seemed +to direct her eyes to such objects as they pointed out, she +distinguished no part of the scene. Her thoughts were all fixed on that +one spot of Pemberley House, whichever it might be, where Mr. Darcy then +was. She longed to know what at that moment was passing in his mind; in +what manner he thought of her, and whether, in defiance of everything, +she was still dear to him. Perhaps he had been civil only because he +felt himself at ease; yet there had been _that_ in his voice, which was +not like ease. Whether he had felt more of pain or of pleasure in seeing +her, she could not tell, but he certainly had not seen her with +composure. + +At length, however, the remarks of her companions on her absence of mind +roused her, and she felt the necessity of appearing more like herself. + +They entered the woods, and, bidding adieu to the river for a while, +ascended some of the higher grounds; whence, in spots where the opening +of the trees gave the eye power to wander, were many charming views of +the valley, the opposite hills, with the long range of woods +overspreading many, and occasionally part of the stream. Mr. Gardiner +expressed a wish of going round the whole park, but feared it might be +beyond a walk. With a triumphant smile, they were told, that it was ten +miles round. It settled the matter; and they pursued the accustomed +circuit; which brought them again, after some time, in a descent among +hanging woods, to the edge of the water, and one of its narrowest parts. +They crossed it by a simple bridge, in character with the general air of +the scene: it was a spot less adorned than any they had yet visited; and +the valley, here contracted into a glen, allowed room only for the +stream, and a narrow walk amidst the rough coppice-wood which bordered +it. Elizabeth longed to explore its windings; but when they had crossed +the bridge, and perceived their distance from the house, Mrs. Gardiner, +who was not a great walker, could go no farther, and thought only of +returning to the carriage as quickly as possible. Her niece was, +therefore, obliged to submit, and they took their way towards the house +on the opposite side of the river, in the nearest direction; but their +progress was slow, for Mr. Gardiner, though seldom able to indulge the +taste, was very fond of fishing, and was so much engaged in watching the +occasional appearance of some trout in the water, and talking to the man +about them, that he advanced but little. Whilst wandering on in this +slow manner, they were again surprised, and Elizabeth’s astonishment was +quite equal to what it had been at first, by the sight of Mr. Darcy +approaching them, and at no great distance. The walk being here less +sheltered than on the other side, allowed them to see him before they +met. Elizabeth, however astonished, was at least more prepared for an +interview than before, and resolved to appear and to speak with +calmness, if he really intended to meet them. For a few moments, indeed, +she felt that he would probably strike into some other path. The idea +lasted while a turning in the walk concealed him from their view; the +turning past, he was immediately before them. With a glance she saw that +he had lost none of his recent civility; and, to imitate his politeness, +she began as they met to admire the beauty of the place; but she had not +got beyond the words “delightful,” and “charming,” when some unlucky +recollections obtruded, and she fancied that praise of Pemberley from +her might be mischievously construed. Her colour changed, and she said +no more. + +Mrs. Gardiner was standing a little behind; and on her pausing, he asked +her if she would do him the honour of introducing him to her friends. +This was a stroke of civility for which she was quite unprepared; and +she could hardly suppress a smile at his being now seeking the +acquaintance of some of those very people, against whom his pride had +revolted, in his offer to herself. “What will be his surprise,” thought +she, “when he knows who they are! He takes them now for people of +fashion.” + +The introduction, however, was immediately made; and as she named their +relationship to herself, she stole a sly look at him, to see how he bore +it; and was not without the expectation of his decamping as fast as he +could from such disgraceful companions. That he was _surprised_ by the +connection was evident: he sustained it, however, with fortitude: and, +so far from going away, turned back with them, and entered into +conversation with Mr. Gardiner. Elizabeth could not but be pleased, +could not but triumph. It was consoling that he should know she had some +relations for whom there was no need to blush. She listened most +attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every +expression, every sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence, +his taste, or his good manners. + +The conversation soon turned upon fishing; and she heard Mr. Darcy +invite him, with the greatest civility, to fish there as often as he +chose, while he continued in the neighbourhood, offering at the same +time to supply him with fishing tackle, and pointing out those parts of +the stream where there was usually most sport. Mrs. Gardiner, who was +walking arm in arm with Elizabeth, gave her a look expressive of her +wonder. Elizabeth said nothing, but it gratified her exceedingly; the +compliment must be all for herself. Her astonishment, however, was +extreme; and continually was she repeating, “Why is he so altered? From +what can it proceed? It cannot be for _me_, it cannot be for _my_ sake +that his manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not +work such a change as this. It is impossible that he should still love +me.” + +After walking some time in this way, the two ladies in front, the two +gentlemen behind, on resuming their places, after descending to the +brink of the river for the better inspection of some curious +water-plant, there chanced to be a little alteration. It originated in +Mrs. Gardiner, who, fatigued by the exercise of the morning, found +Elizabeth’s arm inadequate to her support, and consequently preferred +her husband’s. Mr. Darcy took her place by her niece, and they walked on +together. After a short silence the lady first spoke. She wished him to +know that she had been assured of his absence before she came to the +place, and accordingly began by observing, that his arrival had been +very unexpected--“for your housekeeper,” she added, “informed us that +you would certainly not be here till to-morrow; and, indeed, before we +left Bakewell, we understood that you were not immediately expected in +the country.” He acknowledged the truth of it all; and said that +business with his steward had occasioned his coming forward a few hours +before the rest of the party with whom he had been travelling. “They +will join me early to-morrow,” he continued, “and among them are some +who will claim an acquaintance with you,--Mr. Bingley and his sisters.” + +Elizabeth answered only by a slight bow. Her thoughts were instantly +driven back to the time when Mr. Bingley’s name had been last mentioned +between them; and if she might judge from his complexion, _his_ mind was +not very differently engaged. + +“There is also one other person in the party,” he continued after a +pause, “who more particularly wishes to be known to you. Will you allow +me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance +during your stay at Lambton?” + +The surprise of such an application was great indeed; it was too great +for her to know in what manner she acceded to it. She immediately felt +that whatever desire Miss Darcy might have of being acquainted with her, +must be the work of her brother, and without looking farther, it was +satisfactory; it was gratifying to know that his resentment had not made +him think really ill of her. + +They now walked on in silence; each of them deep in thought. Elizabeth +was not comfortable; that was impossible; but she was flattered and +pleased. His wish of introducing his sister to her was a compliment of +the highest kind. They soon outstripped the others; and when they had +reached the carriage, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were half a quarter of a +mile behind. + +He then asked her to walk into the house--but she declared herself not +tired, and they stood together on the lawn. At such a time much might +have been said, and silence was very awkward. She wanted to talk, but +there seemed an embargo on every subject. At last she recollected that +she had been travelling, and they talked of Matlock and Dovedale with +great perseverance. Yet time and her aunt moved slowly--and her patience +and her ideas were nearly worn out before the _tête-à-tête_ was over. + +On Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s coming up they were all pressed to go into +the house and take some refreshment; but this was declined, and they +parted on each side with the utmost politeness. Mr. Darcy handed the +ladies into the carriage; and when it drove off, Elizabeth saw him +walking slowly towards the house. + +The observations of her uncle and aunt now began; and each of them +pronounced him to be infinitely superior to anything they had expected. + +“He is perfectly well-behaved, polite, and unassuming,” said her uncle. + +“There _is_ something a little stately in him, to be sure,” replied her +aunt; “but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming. I can now +say with the housekeeper, that though some people may call him proud, +_I_ have seen nothing of it.” + +“I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. It was more +than civil; it was really attentive; and there was no necessity for such +attention. His acquaintance with Elizabeth was very trifling.” + +“To be sure, Lizzy,” said her aunt, “he is not so handsome as Wickham; +or rather he has not Wickham’s countenance, for his features are +perfectly good. But how came you to tell us that he was so +disagreeable?” + +Elizabeth excused herself as well as she could: said that she had liked +him better when they met in Kent than before, and that she had never +seen him so pleasant as this morning. + +“But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities,” replied +her uncle. “Your great men often are; and therefore I shall not take him +at his word about fishing, as he might change his mind another day, and +warn me off his grounds.” + +Elizabeth felt that they had entirely mistaken his character, but said +nothing. + +“From what we have seen of him,” continued Mrs. Gardiner, “I really +should not have thought that he could have behaved in so cruel a way by +anybody as he has done by poor Wickham. He has not an ill-natured look. +On the contrary, there is something pleasing about his mouth when he +speaks. And there is something of dignity in his countenance, that would +not give one an unfavourable idea of his heart. But, to be sure, the +good lady who showed us the house did give him a most flaming character! +I could hardly help laughing aloud sometimes. But he is a liberal +master, I suppose, and _that_, in the eye of a servant, comprehends +every virtue.” + +Elizabeth here felt herself called on to say something in vindication of +his behaviour to Wickham; and, therefore, gave them to understand, in as +guarded a manner as she could, that by what she had heard from his +relations in Kent, his actions were capable of a very different +construction; and that his character was by no means so faulty, nor +Wickham’s so amiable, as they had been considered in Hertfordshire. In +confirmation of this, she related the particulars of all the pecuniary +transactions in which they had been connected, without actually naming +her authority, but stating it to be such as might be relied on. + +Mrs. Gardiner was surprised and concerned: but as they were now +approaching the scene of her former pleasures, every idea gave way to +the charm of recollection; and she was too much engaged in pointing out +to her husband all the interesting spots in its environs, to think of +anything else. Fatigued as she had been by the morning’s walk, they had +no sooner dined than she set off again in quest of her former +acquaintance, and the evening was spent in the satisfactions of an +intercourse renewed after many years’ discontinuance. + +The occurrences of the day were too full of interest to leave Elizabeth +much attention for any of these new friends; and she could do nothing +but think, and think with wonder, of Mr. Darcy’s civility, and, above +all, of his wishing her to be acquainted with his sister. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + + +[Illustration] + +Elizabeth had settled it that Mr. Darcy would bring his sister to visit +her the very day after her reaching Pemberley; and was, consequently, +resolved not to be out of sight of the inn the whole of that morning. +But her conclusion was false; for on the very morning after their own +arrival at Lambton these visitors came. They had been walking about the +place with some of their new friends, and were just returned to the inn +to dress themselves for dining with the same family, when the sound of a +carriage drew them to a window, and they saw a gentleman and lady in a +curricle driving up the street. Elizabeth, immediately recognizing the +livery, guessed what it meant, and imparted no small degree of surprise +to her relations, by acquainting them with the honour which she +expected. Her uncle and aunt were all amazement; and the embarrassment +of her manner as she spoke, joined to the circumstance itself, and many +of the circumstances of the preceding day, opened to them a new idea on +the business. Nothing had ever suggested it before, but they now felt +that there was no other way of accounting for such attentions from such +a quarter than by supposing a partiality for their niece. While these +newly-born notions were passing in their heads, the perturbation of +Elizabeth’s feelings was every moment increasing. She was quite amazed +at her own discomposure; but, amongst other causes of disquiet, she +dreaded lest the partiality of the brother should have said too much in +her favour; and, more than commonly anxious to please, she naturally +suspected that every power of pleasing would fail her. + +She retreated from the window, fearful of being seen; and as she walked +up and down the room, endeavouring to compose herself, saw such looks of +inquiring surprise in her uncle and aunt as made everything worse. + +Miss Darcy and her brother appeared, and this formidable introduction +took place. With astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new +acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as herself. Since her +being at Lambton, she had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud; +but the observation of a very few minutes convinced her that she was +only exceedingly shy. She found it difficult to obtain even a word from +her beyond a monosyllable. + +Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth; and, though +little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance +womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother, but there +was sense and good-humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly +unassuming and gentle. Elizabeth, who had expected to find in her as +acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was much +relieved by discerning such different feelings. + +They had not been long together before Darcy told her that Bingley was +also coming to wait on her; and she had barely time to express her +satisfaction, and prepare for such a visitor, when Bingley’s quick step +was heard on the stairs, and in a moment he entered the room. All +Elizabeth’s anger against him had been long done away; but had she still +felt any, it could hardly have stood its ground against the unaffected +cordiality with which he expressed himself on seeing her again. He +inquired in a friendly, though general, way, after her family, and +looked and spoke with the same good-humoured ease that he had ever done. + +To Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner he was scarcely a less interesting personage +than to herself. They had long wished to see him. The whole party before +them, indeed, excited a lively attention. The suspicions which had just +arisen of Mr. Darcy and their niece, directed their observation towards +each with an earnest, though guarded, inquiry; and they soon drew from +those inquiries the full conviction that one of them at least knew what +it was to love. Of the lady’s sensations they remained a little in +doubt; but that the gentleman was overflowing with admiration was +evident enough. + +Elizabeth, on her side, had much to do. She wanted to ascertain the +feelings of each of her visitors, she wanted to compose her own, and to +make herself agreeable to all; and in the latter object, where she +feared most to fail, she was most sure of success, for those to whom +she endeavoured to give pleasure were pre-possessed in her favour. +Bingley was ready, Georgiana was eager, and Darcy determined, to be +pleased. + +[Illustration: + + “To make herself agreeable to all” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +In seeing Bingley, her thoughts naturally flew to her sister; and oh! +how ardently did she long to know whether any of his were directed in a +like manner. Sometimes she could fancy that he talked less than on +former occasions, and once or twice pleased herself with the notion +that, as he looked at her, he was trying to trace a resemblance. But, +though this might be imaginary, she could not be deceived as to his +behaviour to Miss Darcy, who had been set up as a rival to Jane. No +look appeared on either side that spoke particular regard. Nothing +occurred between them that could justify the hopes of his sister. On +this point she was soon satisfied; and two or three little circumstances +occurred ere they parted, which, in her anxious interpretation, denoted +a recollection of Jane, not untinctured by tenderness, and a wish of +saying more that might lead to the mention of her, had he dared. He +observed to her, at a moment when the others were talking together, and +in a tone which had something of real regret, that it “was a very long +time since he had had the pleasure of seeing her;” and, before she could +reply, he added, “It is above eight months. We have not met since the +26th of November, when we were all dancing together at Netherfield.” + +Elizabeth was pleased to find his memory so exact; and he afterwards +took occasion to ask her, when unattended to by any of the rest, whether +_all_ her sisters were at Longbourn. There was not much in the question, +nor in the preceding remark; but there was a look and a manner which +gave them meaning. + +It was not often that she could turn her eyes on Mr. Darcy himself; but +whenever she did catch a glimpse she saw an expression of general +complaisance, and in all that he said, she heard an accent so far +removed from _hauteur_ or disdain of his companions, as convinced her +that the improvement of manners which she had yesterday witnessed, +however temporary its existence might prove, had at least outlived one +day. When she saw him thus seeking the acquaintance, and courting the +good opinion of people with whom any intercourse a few months ago would +have been a disgrace; when she saw him thus civil, not only to herself, +but to the very relations whom he had openly disdained, and recollected +their last lively scene in Hunsford Parsonage, the difference, the +change was so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could +hardly restrain her astonishment from being visible. Never, even in the +company of his dear friends at Netherfield, or his dignified relations +at Rosings, had she seen him so desirous to please, so free from +self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no importance could +result from the success of his endeavours, and when even the +acquaintance of those to whom his attentions were addressed, would draw +down the ridicule and censure of the ladies both of Netherfield and +Rosings. + +Their visitors stayed with them above half an hour; and when they arose +to depart, Mr. Darcy called on his sister to join him in expressing +their wish of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and Miss Bennet, to dinner +at Pemberley, before they left the country. Miss Darcy, though with a +diffidence which marked her little in the habit of giving invitations, +readily obeyed. Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece, desirous of knowing +how _she_, whom the invitation most concerned, felt disposed as to its +acceptance, but Elizabeth had turned away her head. Presuming, however, +that this studied avoidance spoke rather a momentary embarrassment than +any dislike of the proposal, and seeing in her husband, who was fond of +society, a perfect willingness to accept it, she ventured to engage for +her attendance, and the day after the next was fixed on. + +Bingley expressed great pleasure in the certainty of seeing Elizabeth +again, having still a great deal to say to her, and many inquiries to +make after all their Hertfordshire friends. Elizabeth, construing all +this into a wish of hearing her speak of her sister, was pleased; and +on this account, as well as some others, found herself, when their +visitors left them, capable of considering the last half hour with some +satisfaction, though while it was passing the enjoyment of it had been +little. Eager to be alone, and fearful of inquiries or hints from her +uncle and aunt, she stayed with them only long enough to hear their +favourable opinion of Bingley, and then hurried away to dress. + +But she had no reason to fear Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s curiosity; it was +not their wish to force her communication. It was evident that she was +much better acquainted with Mr. Darcy than they had before any idea of; +it was evident that he was very much in love with her. They saw much to +interest, but nothing to justify inquiry. + +Of Mr. Darcy it was now a matter of anxiety to think well; and, as far +as their acquaintance reached, there was no fault to find. They could +not be untouched by his politeness; and had they drawn his character +from their own feelings and his servant’s report, without any reference +to any other account, the circle in Hertfordshire to which he was known +would not have recognized it for Mr. Darcy. There was now an interest, +however, in believing the housekeeper; and they soon became sensible +that the authority of a servant, who had known him since he was four +years old, and whose own manners indicated respectability, was not to be +hastily rejected. Neither had anything occurred in the intelligence of +their Lambton friends that could materially lessen its weight. They had +nothing to accuse him of but pride; pride he probably had, and if not, +it would certainly be imputed by the inhabitants of a small market town +where the family did not visit. It was acknowledged, however, that he +was a liberal man, and did much good among the poor. + +With respect to Wickham, the travellers soon found that he was not held +there in much estimation; for though the chief of his concerns with the +son of his patron were imperfectly understood, it was yet a well-known +fact that, on his quitting Derbyshire, he had left many debts behind +him, which Mr. Darcy afterwards discharged. + +As for Elizabeth, her thoughts were at Pemberley this evening more than +the last; and the evening, though as it passed it seemed long, was not +long enough to determine her feelings towards _one_ in that mansion; and +she lay awake two whole hours, endeavouring to make them out. She +certainly did not hate him. No; hatred had vanished long ago, and she +had almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against him, +that could be so called. The respect created by the conviction of his +valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some +time ceased to be repugnant to her feelings; and it was now heightened +into somewhat of a friendlier nature by the testimony so highly in his +favour, and bringing forward his disposition in so amiable a light, +which yesterday had produced. But above all, above respect and esteem, +there was a motive within her of good-will which could not be +overlooked. It was gratitude;--gratitude, not merely for having once +loved her, but for loving her still well enough to forgive all the +petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and all the +unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. He who, she had been +persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy, seemed, on this +accidental meeting, most eager to preserve the acquaintance; and +without any indelicate display of regard, or any peculiarity of manner, +where their two selves only were concerned, was soliciting the good +opinion of her friends, and bent on making her known to his sister. Such +a change in a man of so much pride excited not only astonishment but +gratitude--for to love, ardent love, it must be attributed; and, as +such, its impression on her was of a sort to be encouraged, as by no +means unpleasing, though it could not be exactly defined. She respected, +she esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt a real interest in his +welfare; and she only wanted to know how far she wished that welfare to +depend upon herself, and how far it would be for the happiness of both +that she should employ the power, which her fancy told her she still +possessed, of bringing on the renewal of his addresses. + +It had been settled in the evening, between the aunt and niece, that +such a striking civility as Miss Darcy’s, in coming to them on the very +day of her arrival at Pemberley--for she had reached it only to a late +breakfast--ought to be imitated, though it could not be equalled, by +some exertion of politeness on their side; and, consequently, that it +would be highly expedient to wait on her at Pemberley the following +morning. They were, therefore, to go. Elizabeth was pleased; though when +she asked herself the reason, she had very little to say in reply. + +Mr. Gardiner left them soon after breakfast. The fishing scheme had been +renewed the day before, and a positive engagement made of his meeting +some of the gentlemen at Pemberley by noon. + + + + +[Illustration: + + “Engaged by the river” +] + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + + +[Illustration] + +Convinced as Elizabeth now was that Miss Bingley’s dislike of her had +originated in jealousy, she could not help feeling how very unwelcome +her appearance at Pemberley must be to her, and was curious to know +with how much civility on that lady’s side the acquaintance would now +be renewed. + +On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into the saloon, +whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for summer. Its windows, +opening to the ground, admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody +hills behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts +which were scattered over the intermediate lawn. + +In this room they were received by Miss Darcy, who was sitting there +with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and the lady with whom she lived in +London. Georgiana’s reception of them was very civil, but attended with +all that embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness and the +fear of doing wrong, would easily give to those who felt themselves +inferior the belief of her being proud and reserved. Mrs. Gardiner and +her niece, however, did her justice, and pitied her. + +By Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley they were noticed only by a courtesy; and +on their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always be, +succeeded for a few moments. It was first broken by Mrs. Annesley, a +genteel, agreeable-looking woman, whose endeavour to introduce some kind +of discourse proved her to be more truly well-bred than either of the +others; and between her and Mrs. Gardiner, with occasional help from +Elizabeth, the conversation was carried on. Miss Darcy looked as if she +wished for courage enough to join in it; and sometimes did venture a +short sentence, when there was least danger of its being heard. + +Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely watched by Miss Bingley, +and that she could not speak a word, especially to Miss Darcy, without +calling her attention. This observation would not have prevented her +from trying to talk to the latter, had they not been seated at an +inconvenient distance; but she was not sorry to be spared the necessity +of saying much: her own thoughts were employing her. She expected every +moment that some of the gentlemen would enter the room: she wished, she +feared, that the master of the house might be amongst them; and whether +she wished or feared it most, she could scarcely determine. After +sitting in this manner a quarter of an hour, without hearing Miss +Bingley’s voice, Elizabeth was roused by receiving from her a cold +inquiry after the health of her family. She answered with equal +indifference and brevity, and the other said no more. + +The next variation which their visit afforded was produced by the +entrance of servants with cold meat, cake, and a variety of all the +finest fruits in season; but this did not take place till after many a +significant look and smile from Mrs. Annesley to Miss Darcy had been +given, to remind her of her post. There was now employment for the whole +party; for though they could not all talk, they could all eat; and the +beautiful pyramids of grapes, nectarines, and peaches, soon collected +them round the table. + +While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity of deciding whether +she most feared or wished for the appearance of Mr. Darcy, by the +feelings which prevailed on his entering the room; and then, though but +a moment before she had believed her wishes to predominate, she began to +regret that he came. + +He had been some time with Mr. Gardiner, who, with two or three other +gentlemen from the house, was engaged by the river; and had left him +only on learning that the ladies of the family intended a visit to +Georgiana that morning. No sooner did he appear, than Elizabeth wisely +resolved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed;--a resolution the more +necessary to be made, but perhaps not the more easily kept, because she +saw that the suspicions of the whole party were awakened against them, +and that there was scarcely an eye which did not watch his behaviour +when he first came into the room. In no countenance was attentive +curiosity so strongly marked as in Miss Bingley’s, in spite of the +smiles which overspread her face whenever she spoke to one of its +objects; for jealousy had not yet made her desperate, and her attentions +to Mr. Darcy were by no means over. Miss Darcy, on her brother’s +entrance, exerted herself much more to talk; and Elizabeth saw that he +was anxious for his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded, +as much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side. Miss +Bingley saw all this likewise; and, in the imprudence of anger, took the +first opportunity of saying, with sneering civility,-- + +“Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the ----shire militia removed from Meryton? +They must be a great loss to _your_ family.” + +In Darcy’s presence she dared not mention Wickham’s name: but Elizabeth +instantly comprehended that he was uppermost in her thoughts; and the +various recollections connected with him gave her a moment’s distress; +but, exerting herself vigorously to repel the ill-natured attack, she +presently answered the question in a tolerably disengaged tone. While +she spoke, an involuntary glance showed her Darcy with a heightened +complexion, earnestly looking at her, and his sister overcome with +confusion, and unable to lift up her eyes. Had Miss Bingley known what +pain she was then giving her beloved friend, she undoubtedly would have +refrained from the hint; but she had merely intended to discompose +Elizabeth, by bringing forward the idea of a man to whom she believed +her partial, to make her betray a sensibility which might injure her in +Darcy’s opinion, and, perhaps, to remind the latter of all the follies +and absurdities by which some part of her family were connected with +that corps. Not a syllable had ever reached her of Miss Darcy’s +meditated elopement. To no creature had it been revealed, where secrecy +was possible, except to Elizabeth; and from all Bingley’s connections +her brother was particularly anxious to conceal it, from that very wish +which Elizabeth had long ago attributed to him, of their becoming +hereafter her own. He had certainly formed such a plan; and without +meaning that it should affect his endeavour to separate him from Miss +Bennet, it is probable that it might add something to his lively concern +for the welfare of his friend. + +Elizabeth’s collected behaviour, however, soon quieted his emotion; and +as Miss Bingley, vexed and disappointed, dared not approach nearer to +Wickham, Georgiana also recovered in time, though not enough to be able +to speak any more. Her brother, whose eye she feared to meet, scarcely +recollected her interest in the affair; and the very circumstance which +had been designed to turn his thoughts from Elizabeth, seemed to have +fixed them on her more and more cheerfully. + +Their visit did not continue long after the question and answer above +mentioned; and while Mr. Darcy was attending them to their carriage, +Miss Bingley was venting her feelings in criticisms on Elizabeth’s +person, behaviour, and dress. But Georgiana would not join her. Her +brother’s recommendation was enough to insure her favour: his judgment +could not err; and he had spoken in such terms of Elizabeth, as to leave +Georgiana without the power of finding her otherwise than lovely and +amiable. When Darcy returned to the saloon, Miss Bingley could not help +repeating to him some part of what she had been saying to his sister. + +“How very ill Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy,” she cried: “I +never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she is since the winter. +She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we +should not have known her again.” + +However little Mr. Darcy might have liked such an address, he contented +himself with coolly replying, that he perceived no other alteration than +her being rather tanned,--no miraculous consequence of travelling in the +summer. + +“For my own part,” she rejoined, “I must confess that I never could see +any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no +brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants +character; there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are +tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which +have sometimes been called so fine, I never could perceive anything +extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not +like at all; and in her air altogether, there is a self-sufficiency +without fashion, which is intolerable.” + +Persuaded as Miss Bingley was that Darcy admired Elizabeth, this was not +the best method of recommending herself; but angry people are not always +wise; and in seeing him at last look somewhat nettled, she had all the +success she expected. He was resolutely silent, however; and, from a +determination of making him speak, she continued,-- + +“I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all +were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect +your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, ‘_She_ +a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit.’ But afterwards she +seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at +one time.” + +“Yes,” replied Darcy, who could contain himself no longer, “but _that_ +was only when I first knew her; for it is many months since I have +considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.” + +He then went away, and Miss Bingley was left to all the satisfaction of +having forced him to say what gave no one any pain but herself. + +Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth talked of all that had occurred during their +visit, as they returned, except what had particularly interested them +both. The looks and behaviour of everybody they had seen were discussed, +except of the person who had mostly engaged their attention. They talked +of his sister, his friends, his house, his fruit, of everything but +himself; yet Elizabeth was longing to know what Mrs. Gardiner thought of +him, and Mrs. Gardiner would have been highly gratified by her niece’s +beginning the subject. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +Chapter XLVI. + + +[Illustration] + +Elizabeth had been a good deal disappointed in not finding a letter from +Jane on their first arrival at Lambton; and this disappointment had been +renewed on each of the mornings that had now been spent there; but on +the third her repining was over, and her sister justified, by the +receipt of two letters from her at once, on one of which was marked that +it had been mis-sent elsewhere. Elizabeth was not surprised at it, as +Jane had written the direction remarkably ill. + +They had just been preparing to walk as the letters came in; and her +uncle and aunt, leaving her to enjoy them in quiet, set off by +themselves. The one mis-sent must be first attended to; it had been +written five days ago. The beginning contained an account of all their +little parties and engagements, with such news as the country afforded; +but the latter half, which was dated a day later, and written in evident +agitation, gave more important intelligence. It was to this effect:-- + +“Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has occurred of a +most unexpected and serious nature; but I am afraid of alarming you--be +assured that we are all well. What I have to say relates to poor Lydia. +An express came at twelve last night, just as we were all gone to bed, +from Colonel Forster, to inform us that she was gone off to Scotland +with one of his officers; to own the truth, with Wickham! Imagine our +surprise. To Kitty, however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. I am +very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both sides! But I am willing +to hope the best, and that his character has been misunderstood. +Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe him, but this step (and +let us rejoice over it) marks nothing bad at heart. His choice is +disinterested at least, for he must know my father can give her nothing. +Our poor mother is sadly grieved. My father bears it better. How +thankful am I, that we never let them know what has been said against +him; we must forget it ourselves. They were off Saturday night about +twelve, as is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning at +eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they must have +passed within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives us reason to expect +him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for his wife, informing her of +their intention. I must conclude, for I cannot be long from my poor +mother. I am afraid you will not be able to make it out, but I hardly +know what I have written.” + +Without allowing herself time for consideration, and scarcely knowing +what she felt, Elizabeth, on finishing this letter, instantly seized the +other, and opening it with the utmost impatience, read as follows: it +had been written a day later than the conclusion of the first. + +“By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried letter; I +wish this may be more intelligible, but though not confined for time, my +head is so bewildered that I cannot answer for being coherent. Dearest +Lizzy, I hardly know what I would write, but I have bad news for you, +and it cannot be delayed. Imprudent as a marriage between Mr. Wickham +and our poor Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured it has +taken place, for there is but too much reason to fear they are not gone +to Scotland. Colonel Forster came yesterday, having left Brighton the +day before, not many hours after the express. Though Lydia’s short +letter to Mrs. F. gave them to understand that they were going to Gretna +Green, something was dropped by Denny expressing his belief that W. +never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all, which was repeated +to Colonel F., who, instantly taking the alarm, set off from B., +intending to trace their route. He did trace them easily to Clapham, but +no farther; for on entering that place, they removed into a +hackney-coach, and dismissed the chaise that brought them from Epsom. +All that is known after this is, that they were seen to continue the +London road. I know not what to think. After making every possible +inquiry on that side of London, Colonel F. came on into Hertfordshire, +anxiously renewing them at all the turnpikes, and at the inns in Barnet +and Hatfield, but without any success,--no such people had been seen to +pass through. With the kindest concern he came on to Longbourn, and +broke his apprehensions to us in a manner most creditable to his heart. +I am sincerely grieved for him and Mrs. F.; but no one can throw any +blame on them. Our distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. My father and +mother believe the worst, but I cannot think so ill of him. Many +circumstances might make it more eligible for them to be married +privately in town than to pursue their first plan; and even if _he_ +could form such a design against a young woman of Lydia’s connections, +which is not likely, can I suppose her so lost to everything? +Impossible! I grieve to find, however, that Colonel F. is not disposed +to depend upon their marriage: he shook his head when I expressed my +hopes, and said he feared W. was not a man to be trusted. My poor mother +is really ill, and keeps her room. Could she exert herself, it would be +better, but this is not to be expected; and as to my father, I never in +my life saw him so affected. Poor Kitty has anger for having concealed +their attachment; but as it was a matter of confidence, one cannot +wonder. I am truly glad, dearest Lizzy, that you have been spared +something of these distressing scenes; but now, as the first shock is +over, shall I own that I long for your return? I am not so selfish, +however, as to press for it, if inconvenient. Adieu! I take up my pen +again to do, what I have just told you I would not; but circumstances +are such, that I cannot help earnestly begging you all to come here as +soon as possible. I know my dear uncle and aunt so well, that I am not +afraid of requesting it, though I have still something more to ask of +the former. My father is going to London with Colonel Forster instantly, +to try to discover her. What he means to do, I am sure I know not; but +his excessive distress will not allow him to pursue any measure in the +best and safest way, and Colonel Forster is obliged to be at Brighton +again to-morrow evening. In such an exigence my uncle’s advice and +assistance would be everything in the world; he will immediately +comprehend what I must feel, and I rely upon his goodness.” + +“Oh! where, where is my uncle?” cried Elizabeth, darting from her seat +as she finished the letter, in eagerness to follow him, without losing a +moment of the time so precious; but as she reached the door, it was +opened by a servant, and Mr. Darcy appeared. Her pale face and +impetuous manner made him start, and before he could recover himself +enough to speak, she, in whose mind every idea was superseded by Lydia’s +situation, hastily exclaimed, “I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. +I must find Mr. Gardiner this moment on business that cannot be delayed; +I have not an instant to lose.” + +“Good God! what is the matter?” cried he, with more feeling than +politeness; then recollecting himself, “I will not detain you a minute; +but let me, or let the servant, go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. You are +not well enough; you cannot go yourself.” + +Elizabeth hesitated; but her knees trembled under her, and she felt how +little would be gained by her attempting to pursue them. Calling back +the servant, therefore, she commissioned him, though in so breathless an +accent as made her almost unintelligible, to fetch his master and +mistress home instantly. + +On his quitting the room, she sat down, unable to support herself, and +looking so miserably ill, that it was impossible for Darcy to leave her, +or to refrain from saying, in a tone of gentleness and commiseration, +“Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take to give you +present relief? A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill.” + +“No, I thank you,” she replied, endeavouring to recover herself. “There +is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well, I am only distressed by +some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn.” + +She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a few minutes could +not speak another word. Darcy, in wretched suspense, could only say +something indistinctly of his + +[Illustration: + + “I have not an instant to lose” +] + +concern, and observe her in compassionate silence. At length she spoke +again. “I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It +cannot be concealed from anyone. My youngest sister has left all her +friends--has eloped; has thrown herself into the power of--of Mr. +Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. _You_ know him too +well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that +can tempt him to--she is lost for ever.” + +Darcy was fixed in astonishment. + +“When I consider,” she added, in a yet more agitated voice, “that _I_ +might have prevented it! _I_ who knew what he was. Had I but explained +some part of it only--some part of what I learnt, to my own family! Had +his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all, +all too late now.” + +“I am grieved, indeed,” cried Darcy: “grieved--shocked. But is it +certain, absolutely certain?” + +“Oh, yes! They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced +almost to London, but not beyond: they are certainly not gone to +Scotland.” + +“And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?” + +“My father has gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle’s +immediate assistance, and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour. But +nothing can be done; I know very well that nothing can be done. How is +such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have +not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!” + +Darcy shook his head in silent acquiescence. + +“When _my_ eyes were opened to his real character, oh! had I known what +I ought, what I dared to do! But I knew not--I was afraid of doing too +much. Wretched, wretched mistake!” + +Darcy made no answer. He seemed scarcely to hear her, and was walking up +and down the room in earnest meditation; his brow contracted, his air +gloomy. Elizabeth soon observed, and instantly understood it. Her power +was sinking; everything _must_ sink under such a proof of family +weakness, such an assurance of the deepest disgrace. She could neither +wonder nor condemn; but the belief of his self-conquest brought nothing +consolatory to her bosom, afforded no palliation of her distress. It +was, on the contrary, exactly calculated to make her understand her own +wishes; and never had she so honestly felt that she could have loved +him, as now, when all love must be vain. + +But self, though it would intrude, could not engross her. Lydia--the +humiliation, the misery she was bringing on them all--soon swallowed up +every private care; and covering her face with her handkerchief, +Elizabeth was soon lost to everything else; and, after a pause of +several minutes, was only recalled to a sense of her situation by the +voice of her companion, who, in a manner which, though it spoke +compassion, spoke likewise restraint, said,-- + +“I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything +to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing concern. +Would to Heaven that anything could be either said or done on my part, +that might offer consolation to such distress! But I will not torment +you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks. +This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister’s having the +pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley to-day.” + +“Oh, yes! Be so kind as to apologize for us to Miss Darcy. Say that +urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as +long as it is possible. I know it cannot be long.” + +He readily assured her of his secrecy, again expressed his sorrow for +her distress, wished it a happier conclusion than there was at present +reason to hope, and, leaving his compliments for her relations, with +only one serious parting look, went away. + +As he quitted the room, Elizabeth felt how improbable it was that they +should ever see each other again on such terms of cordiality as had +marked their several meetings in Derbyshire; and as she threw a +retrospective glance over the whole of their acquaintance, so full of +contradictions and varieties, sighed at the perverseness of those +feelings which would now have promoted its continuance, and would +formerly have rejoiced in its termination. + +If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection, Elizabeth’s +change of sentiment will be neither improbable nor faulty. But if +otherwise, if the regard springing from such sources is unreasonable or +unnatural, in comparison of what is so often described as arising on a +first interview with its object, and even before two words have been +exchanged, nothing can be said in her defence, except that she had given +somewhat of a trial to the latter method, in her partiality for Wickham, +and that its ill success might, perhaps, authorize her to seek the other +less interesting mode of attachment. Be that as it may, she saw him go +with regret; and in this early example of what Lydia’s infamy must +produce, found additional anguish as she reflected on that wretched +business. Never since reading Jane’s second letter had she entertained a +hope of Wickham’s meaning to marry her. No one but Jane, she thought, +could flatter herself with such an expectation. Surprise was the least +of all her feelings on this development. While the contents of the first +letter remained on her mind, she was all surprise, all astonishment, +that Wickham should marry a girl whom it was impossible he could marry +for money; and how Lydia could ever have attached him had appeared +incomprehensible. But now it was all too natural. For such an attachment +as this, she might have sufficient charms; and though she did not +suppose Lydia to be deliberately engaging in an elopement, without the +intention of marriage, she had no difficulty in believing that neither +her virtue nor her understanding would preserve her from falling an easy +prey. + +She had never perceived, while the regiment was in Hertfordshire, that +Lydia had any partiality for him; but she was convinced that Lydia had +wanted only encouragement to attach herself to anybody. Sometimes one +officer, sometimes another, had been her favourite, as their attentions +raised them in her opinion. Her affections had been continually +fluctuating, but never without an object. The mischief of neglect and +mistaken indulgence towards such a girl--oh! how acutely did she now +feel it! + +She was wild to be at home--to hear, to see, to be upon the spot to +share with Jane in the cares that must now fall wholly upon her, in a +family so deranged; a father absent, a mother incapable of exertion, and +requiring constant attendance; and though almost persuaded that nothing +could be done for Lydia, her uncle’s interference seemed of the utmost +importance, and till he entered the room the misery of her impatience +was severe. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had hurried back in alarm, supposing, +by the servant’s account, that their niece was taken suddenly ill; but +satisfying them instantly on that head, she eagerly communicated the +cause of their summons, reading the two letters aloud, and dwelling on +the postscript of the last with trembling energy. Though Lydia had never +been a favourite with them, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner could not but be +deeply affected. Not Lydia only, but all were concerned in it; and after +the first exclamations of surprise and horror, Mr. Gardiner readily +promised every assistance in his power. Elizabeth, though expecting no +less, thanked him with tears of gratitude; and all three being actuated +by one spirit, everything relating to their journey was speedily +settled. They were to be off as soon as possible. “But what is to be +done about Pemberley?” cried Mrs. Gardiner. “John told us Mr. Darcy was +here when you sent for us;--was it so?” + +“Yes; and I told him we should not be able to keep our engagement. +_That_ is all settled.” + +“What is all settled?” repeated the other, as she ran into her room to +prepare. “And are they upon such terms as for her to disclose the real +truth? Oh, that I knew how it was!” + +But wishes were vain; or, at best, could serve only to amuse her in the +hurry and confusion of the following hour. Had Elizabeth been at leisure +to be idle, she would have remained certain that all employment was +impossible to one so wretched as herself; but she had her share of +business as well as her aunt, and amongst the rest there were notes to +be written to all their friends at Lambton, with false excuses for their +sudden departure. An hour, however, saw the whole completed; and Mr. +Gardiner, meanwhile, having settled his account at the inn, nothing +remained to be done but to go; and Elizabeth, after all the misery of +the morning, found herself, in a shorter space of time than she could +have supposed, seated in the carriage, and on the road to Longbourn. + + + + +[Illustration: + + “The first pleasing earnest of their welcome” +] + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + + +[Illustration] + +“I have been thinking it over again, Elizabeth,” said her uncle, as they +drove from the town; “and really, upon serious consideration, I am much +more inclined than I was to judge as your eldest sister does of the +matter. It appears to me so very unlikely that any young man should form +such a design against a girl who is by no means unprotected or +friendless, and who was actually staying in his Colonel’s family, that I +am strongly inclined to hope the best. Could he expect that her friends +would not step forward? Could he expect to be noticed again by the +regiment, after such an affront to Colonel Forster? His temptation is +not adequate to the risk.” + +“Do you really think so?” cried Elizabeth, brightening up for a moment. + +“Upon my word,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “I begin to be of your uncle’s +opinion. It is really too great a violation of decency, honour, and +interest, for him to be guilty of it. I cannot think so very ill of +Wickham. Can you, yourself, Lizzie, so wholly give him up, as to believe +him capable of it?” + +“Not perhaps of neglecting his own interest. But of every other neglect +I can believe him capable. If, indeed, it should be so! But I dare not +hope it. Why should they not go on to Scotland, if that had been the +case?” + +“In the first place,” replied Mr. Gardiner, “there is no absolute proof +that they are not gone to Scotland.” + +“Oh, but their removing from the chaise into a hackney coach is such a +presumption! And, besides, no traces of them were to be found on the +Barnet road.” + +“Well, then,--supposing them to be in London--they may be there, though +for the purpose of concealment, for no more exceptionable purpose. It is +not likely that money should be very abundant on either side; and it +might strike them that they could be more economically, though less +expeditiously, married in London, than in Scotland.” + +“But why all this secrecy? Why any fear of detection? Why must their +marriage be private? Oh, no, no--this is not likely. His most particular +friend, you see by Jane’s account, was persuaded of his never intending +to marry her. Wickham will never marry a woman without some money. He +cannot afford it. And what claims has Lydia, what attractions has she +beyond youth, health, and good humour, that could make him for her sake +forego every chance of benefiting himself by marrying well? As to what +restraint the apprehensions of disgrace in the corps might throw on a +dishonourable elopement with her, I am not able to judge; for I know +nothing of the effects that such a step might produce. But as to your +other objection, I am afraid it will hardly hold good. Lydia has no +brothers to step forward; and he might imagine, from my father’s +behaviour, from his indolence and the little attention he has ever +seemed to give to what was going forward in his family, that _he_ would +do as little and think as little about it, as any father could do, in +such a matter.” + +“But can you think that Lydia is so lost to everything but love of him, +as to consent to live with him on any other terms than marriage?” + +“It does seem, and it is most shocking, indeed,” replied Elizabeth, with +tears in her eyes, “that a sister’s sense of decency and virtue in such +a point should admit of doubt. But, really, I know not what to say. +Perhaps I am not doing her justice. But she is very young: she has never +been taught to think on serious subjects; and for the last half year, +nay, for a twelvemonth, she has been given up to nothing but amusement +and vanity. She has been allowed to dispose of her time in the most idle +and frivolous manner, and to adopt any opinions that came in her way. +Since the ----shire were first quartered in Meryton, nothing but love, +flirtation, and officers, have been in her head. She has been doing +everything in her power, by thinking and talking on the subject, to give +greater--what shall I call it?--susceptibility to her feelings; which +are naturally lively enough. And we all know that Wickham has every +charm of person and address that can captivate a woman.” + +“But you see that Jane,” said her aunt, “does not think so ill of +Wickham, as to believe him capable of the attempt.” + +“Of whom does Jane ever think ill? And who is there, whatever might be +their former conduct, that she would believe capable of such an attempt, +till it were proved against them? But Jane knows, as well as I do, what +Wickham really is. We both know that he has been profligate in every +sense of the word; that he has neither integrity nor honour; that he is +as false and deceitful as he is insinuating.” + +“And do you really know all this?” cried Mrs. Gardiner, whose curiosity +as to the mode of her intelligence was all alive. + +“I do, indeed,” replied Elizabeth, colouring. “I told you the other day +of his infamous behaviour to Mr. Darcy; and you, yourself, when last at +Longbourn, heard in what manner he spoke of the man who had behaved with +such forbearance and liberality towards him. And there are other +circumstances which I am not at liberty--which it is not worth while to +relate; but his lies about the whole Pemberley family are endless. From +what he said of Miss Darcy, I was thoroughly prepared to see a proud, +reserved, disagreeable girl. Yet he knew to the contrary himself. He +must know that she was as amiable and unpretending as we have found +her.” + +“But does Lydia know nothing of this? can she be ignorant of what you +and Jane seem so well to understand?” + +“Oh, yes!--that, that is the worst of all. Till I was in Kent, and saw +so much both of Mr. Darcy and his relation Colonel Fitzwilliam, I was +ignorant of the truth myself. And when I returned home the ----shire +was to leave Meryton in a week or fortnight’s time. As that was the +case, neither Jane, to whom I related the whole, nor I, thought it +necessary to make our knowledge public; for of what use could it +apparently be to anyone, that the good opinion, which all the +neighbourhood had of him, should then be overthrown? And even when it +was settled that Lydia should go with Mrs. Forster, the necessity of +opening her eyes to his character never occurred to me. That _she_ could +be in any danger from the deception never entered my head. That such a +consequence as _this_ should ensue, you may easily believe was far +enough from my thoughts.” + +“When they all removed to Brighton, therefore, you had no reason, I +suppose, to believe them fond of each other?” + +“Not the slightest. I can remember no symptom of affection on either +side; and had anything of the kind been perceptible, you must be aware +that ours is not a family on which it could be thrown away. When first +he entered the corps, she was ready enough to admire him; but so we all +were. Every girl in or near Meryton was out of her senses about him for +the first two months: but he never distinguished _her_ by any particular +attention; and, consequently, after a moderate period of extravagant and +wild admiration, her fancy for him gave way, and others of the regiment, +who treated her with more distinction, again became her favourites.” + +It may be easily believed, that however little of novelty could be added +to their fears, hopes, and conjectures, on this interesting subject by +its repeated discussion, no other could detain them from it long, during +the whole of the journey. From Elizabeth’s thoughts it was never absent. +Fixed there by the keenest of all anguish, self-reproach, she could +find no interval of ease or forgetfulness. + +They travelled as expeditiously as possible; and sleeping one night on +the road, reached Longbourn by dinnertime the next day. It was a comfort +to Elizabeth to consider that Jane could not have been wearied by long +expectations. + +The little Gardiners, attracted by the sight of a chaise, were standing +on the steps of the house, as they entered the paddock; and when the +carriage drove up to the door, the joyful surprise that lighted up their +faces and displayed itself over their whole bodies, in a variety of +capers and frisks, was the first pleasing earnest of their welcome. + +Elizabeth jumped out; and after giving each of them a hasty kiss, +hurried into the vestibule, where Jane, who came running downstairs from +her mother’s apartment, immediately met her. + +Elizabeth, as she affectionately embraced her, whilst tears filled the +eyes of both, lost not a moment in asking whether anything had been +heard of the fugitives. + +“Not yet,” replied Jane. “But now that my dear uncle is come, I hope +everything will be well.” + +“Is my father in town?” + +“Yes, he went on Tuesday, as I wrote you word.” + +“And have you heard from him often?” + +“We have heard only once. He wrote me a few lines on Wednesday, to say +that he had arrived in safety, and to give me his directions, which I +particularly begged him to do. He merely added, that he should not write +again, till he had something of importance to mention.” + +“And my mother--how is she? How are you all?” + +“My mother is tolerably well, I trust; though her spirits are greatly +shaken. She is upstairs, and will have great satisfaction in seeing you +all. She does not yet leave her dressing-room. Mary and Kitty, thank +Heaven! are quite well.” + +“But you--how are you?” cried Elizabeth. “You look pale. How much you +must have gone through!” + +Her sister, however, assured her of her being perfectly well; and their +conversation, which had been passing while Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were +engaged with their children, was now put an end to by the approach of +the whole party. Jane ran to her uncle and aunt, and welcomed and +thanked them both, with alternate smiles and tears. + +When they were all in the drawing-room, the questions which Elizabeth +had already asked were of course repeated by the others, and they soon +found that Jane had no intelligence to give. The sanguine hope of good, +however, which the benevolence of her heart suggested, had not yet +deserted her; she still expected that it would all end well, and that +every morning would bring some letter, either from Lydia or her father, +to explain their proceedings, and, perhaps, announce the marriage. + +Mrs. Bennet, to whose apartment they all repaired, after a few minutes’ +conversation together, received them exactly as might be expected; with +tears and lamentations of regret, invectives against the villainous +conduct of Wickham, and complaints of her own sufferings and ill-usage; +blaming everybody but the person to whose ill-judging indulgence the +errors of her daughter must be principally owing. + +“If I had been able,” said she, “to carry my point in going to Brighton +with all my family, _this_ would not have happened: but poor dear Lydia +had nobody to take care of her. Why did the Forsters ever let her go out +of their sight? I am sure there was some great neglect or other on their +side, for she is not the kind of girl to do such a thing, if she had +been well looked after. I always thought they were very unfit to have +the charge of her; but I was over-ruled, as I always am. Poor, dear +child! And now here’s Mr. Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight +Wickham, wherever he meets him, and then he will be killed, and what is +to become of us all? The Collinses will turn us out, before he is cold +in his grave; and if you are not kind to us, brother, I do not know what +we shall do.” + +They all exclaimed against such terrific ideas; and Mr. Gardiner, after +general assurances of his affection for her and all her family, told her +that he meant to be in London the very next day, and would assist Mr. +Bennet in every endeavour for recovering Lydia. + +“Do not give way to useless alarm,” added he: “though it is right to be +prepared for the worst, there is no occasion to look on it as certain. +It is not quite a week since they left Brighton. In a few days more, we +may gain some news of them; and till we know that they are not married, +and have no design of marrying, do not let us give the matter over as +lost. As soon as I get to town, I shall go to my brother, and make him +come home with me to Gracechurch Street, and then we may consult +together as to what is to be done.” + +“Oh, my dear brother,” replied Mrs. Bennet, “that is exactly what I +could most wish for. And now do, when you get to town, find them out, +wherever they may be; and if they are not married already, _make_ them +marry. And as for wedding clothes, do not let them wait for that, but +tell Lydia she shall have as much money as she chooses to buy them, +after they are married. And, above all things, keep Mr. Bennet from +fighting. Tell him what a dreadful state I am in--that I am frightened +out of my wits; and have such tremblings, such flutterings all over me, +such spasms in my side, and pains in my head, and such beatings at my +heart, that I can get no rest by night nor by day. And tell my dear +Lydia not to give any directions about her clothes till she has seen me, +for she does not know which are the best warehouses. Oh, brother, how +kind you are! I know you will contrive it all.” + +But Mr. Gardiner, though he assured her again of his earnest endeavours +in the cause, could not avoid recommending moderation to her, as well in +her hopes as her fears; and after talking with her in this manner till +dinner was on table, they left her to vent all her feelings on the +housekeeper, who attended in the absence of her daughters. + +Though her brother and sister were persuaded that there was no real +occasion for such a seclusion from the family, they did not attempt to +oppose it; for they knew that she had not prudence enough to hold her +tongue before the servants, while they waited at table, and judged it +better that _one_ only of the household, and the one whom they could +most trust, should comprehend all her fears and solicitude on the +subject. + +In the dining-room they were soon joined by Mary and Kitty, who had been +too busily engaged in their separate apartments to make their appearance +before. One came from her books, and the other from her toilette. The +faces of both, however, were tolerably calm; and no change was visible +in either, except that the loss of her favourite sister, or the anger +which she had herself incurred in the business, had given something more +of fretfulness than usual to the accents of Kitty. As for Mary, she was +mistress enough of herself to whisper to Elizabeth, with a countenance +of grave reflection, soon after they were seated at table,-- + +“This is a most unfortunate affair, and will probably be much talked of. +But we must stem the tide of malice, and pour into the wounded bosoms of +each other the balm of sisterly consolation.” + +Then perceiving in Elizabeth no inclination of replying, she added, +“Unhappy as the event must be for Lydia, we may draw from it this useful +lesson:--that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable, that one +false step involves her in endless ruin, that her reputation is no less +brittle than it is beautiful, and that she cannot be too much guarded in +her behaviour towards the undeserving of the other sex.” + +Elizabeth lifted up her eyes in amazement, but was too much oppressed to +make any reply. Mary, however, continued to console herself with such +kind of moral extractions from the evil before them. + +In the afternoon, the two elder Miss Bennets were able to be for half an +hour by themselves; and Elizabeth instantly availed herself of the +opportunity of making any inquiries which Jane was equally eager to +satisfy. After joining in general lamentations over the dreadful sequel +of this event, which Elizabeth considered as all but certain, and Miss +Bennet could not assert to be wholly impossible, the former continued +the subject by saying, “But tell me all and everything about it which I +have not already heard. Give me further particulars. What did Colonel +Forster say? Had they no apprehension of anything before the elopement +took place? They must have seen them together for ever.” + +“Colonel Forster did own that he had often suspected some partiality, +especially on Lydia’s side, but nothing to give him any alarm. I am so +grieved for him. His behaviour was attentive and kind to the utmost. He +_was_ coming to us, in order to assure us of his concern, before he had +any idea of their not being gone to Scotland: when that apprehension +first got abroad, it hastened his journey.” + +“And was Denny convinced that Wickham would not marry? Did he know of +their intending to go off? Had Colonel Forster seen Denny himself?” + +“Yes; but when questioned by _him_, Denny denied knowing anything of +their plan, and would not give his real opinion about it. He did not +repeat his persuasion of their not marrying, and from _that_ I am +inclined to hope he might have been misunderstood before.” + +“And till Colonel Forster came himself, not one of you entertained a +doubt, I suppose, of their being really married?” + +“How was it possible that such an idea should enter our brains? I felt a +little uneasy--a little fearful of my sister’s happiness with him in +marriage, because I knew that his conduct had not been always quite +right. My father and mother knew nothing of that; they only felt how +imprudent a match it must be. Kitty then owned, with a very natural +triumph on knowing more than the rest of us, that in Lydia’s last letter +she had prepared her for such a step. She had known, it seems, of their +being in love with each other many weeks.” + +“But not before they went to Brighton?” + +“No, I believe not.” + +“And did Colonel Forster appear to think ill of Wickham himself? Does he +know his real character?” + +“I must confess that he did not speak so well of Wickham as he formerly +did. He believed him to be imprudent and extravagant; and since this sad +affair has taken place, it is said that he left Meryton greatly in debt: +but I hope this may be false.” + +“Oh, Jane, had we been less secret, had we told what we knew of him, +this could not have happened!” + +“Perhaps it would have been better,” replied her sister. + +“But to expose the former faults of any person, without knowing what +their present feelings were, seemed unjustifiable.” + +“We acted with the best intentions.” + +“Could Colonel Forster repeat the particulars of Lydia’s note to his +wife?” + +“He brought it with him for us to see.” + +Jane then took it from her pocket-book, and gave it to Elizabeth. These +were the contents:-- + + /* NIND “My dear Harriet, */ + + “You will laugh when you know where I am gone, and I cannot help + laughing myself at your surprise to-morrow morning, as soon as I am + missed. I am going to Gretna Green, and if you cannot guess with + who, I shall think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in the + world I love, and he is an angel. I should never be happy without + him, so think it no harm to be off. You need not send them word at + Longbourn of my going, if you do not like it, for it will make the + surprise the greater when I write to them, and sign my name Lydia + Wickham. What a good joke it will be! I can hardly write for + laughing. Pray make my excuses to Pratt for not keeping my + engagement, and dancing with him to-night. Tell him I hope he will + excuse me when he knows all, and tell him I will dance with him at + the next ball we meet with great pleasure. I shall send for my + clothes when I get to Longbourn; but I wish you would tell Sally to + mend a great slit in my worked muslin gown before they are packed + up. Good-bye. Give my love to Colonel Forster. I hope you will + drink to our good journey. + +“Your affectionate friend, + +“LYDIA BENNET.” + + +“Oh, thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia!” cried Elizabeth when she had +finished it. “What a letter is this, to be written at such a moment! But +at least it shows that _she_ was serious in the object of her journey. +Whatever he might afterwards persuade her to, it was not on her side a +_scheme_ of infamy. My poor father! how he must have felt it!” + +“I never saw anyone so shocked. He could not speak a word for full ten +minutes. My mother was taken ill immediately, and the whole house in +such confusion!” + +“Oh, Jane,” cried Elizabeth, “was there a servant belonging to it who +did not know the whole story before the end of the day?” + +“I do not know: I hope there was. But to be guarded at such a time is +very difficult. My mother was in hysterics; and though I endeavoured to +give her every assistance in my power, I am afraid I did not do so much +as I might have done. But the horror of what might possibly happen +almost took from me my faculties.” + +“Your attendance upon her has been too much for you. You do not look +well. Oh that I had been with you! you have had every care and anxiety +upon yourself alone.” + +“Mary and Kitty have been very kind, and would have shared in every +fatigue, I am sure, but I did not think it right for either of them. +Kitty is slight and delicate, and Mary studies so much that her hours of +repose should not be broken in on. My aunt Philips came to Longbourn on +Tuesday, after my father went away; and was so good as to stay till +Thursday with me. She was of great use and comfort to us all, and Lady +Lucas has been very kind: she walked here on Wednesday morning to +condole with us, and offered her services, or any of her daughters, if +they could be of use to us.” + +“She had better have stayed at home,” cried Elizabeth: “perhaps she +_meant_ well, but, under such a misfortune as this, one cannot see too +little of one’s neighbours. Assistance is impossible; condolence, +insufferable. Let them triumph over us at a distance, and be satisfied.” + +She then proceeded to inquire into the measures which her father had +intended to pursue, while in town, for the recovery of his daughter. + +“He meant, I believe,” replied Jane, “to go to Epsom, the place where +they last changed horses, see the postilions, and try if anything could +be made out from them. His principal object must be to discover the +number of the hackney coach which took them from Clapham. It had come +with a fare from London; and as he thought the circumstance of a +gentleman and lady’s removing from one carriage into another might be +remarked, he meant to make inquiries at Clapham. If he could anyhow +discover at what house the coachman had before set down his fare, he +determined to make inquiries there, and hoped it might not be impossible +to find out the stand and number of the coach. I do not know of any +other designs that he had formed; but he was in such a hurry to be gone, +and his spirits so greatly discomposed, that I had difficulty in finding +out even so much as this.” + + + + +[Illustration: + + The Post +] + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. + + +[Illustration] + +The whole party were in hopes of a letter from Mr. Bennet the next +morning, but the post came in without bringing a single line from him. +His family knew him to be, on all common occasions, a most negligent and +dilatory correspondent; but at such a time they had hoped for exertion. +They were forced to conclude, that he had no pleasing intelligence to +send; but even of _that_ they would have been glad to be certain. Mr. +Gardiner had waited only for the letters before he set off. + +When he was gone, they were certain at least of receiving constant +information of what was going on; and their uncle promised, at parting, +to prevail on Mr. Bennet to return to Longbourn as soon as he could, to +the great consolation of his sister, who considered it as the only +security for her husband’s not being killed in a duel. + +Mrs. Gardiner and the children were to remain in Hertfordshire a few +days longer, as the former thought her presence might be serviceable to +her nieces. She shared in their attendance on Mrs. Bennet, and was a +great comfort to them in their hours of freedom. Their other aunt also +visited them frequently, and always, as she said, with the design of +cheering and heartening them up--though, as she never came without +reporting some fresh instance of Wickham’s extravagance or irregularity, +she seldom went away without leaving them more dispirited than she found +them. + +All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man who, but three months +before, had been almost an angel of light. He was declared to be in debt +to every tradesman in the place, and his intrigues, all honoured with +the title of seduction, had been extended into every tradesman’s family. +Everybody declared that he was the wickedest young man in the world; and +everybody began to find out that they had always distrusted the +appearance of his goodness. Elizabeth, though she did not credit above +half of what was said, believed enough to make her former assurance of +her sister’s ruin still more certain; and even Jane, who believed still +less of it, became almost hopeless, more especially as the time was now +come, when, if they had gone to Scotland, which she had never before +entirely despaired of, they must in all probability have gained some +news of them. + +Mr. Gardiner left Longbourn on Sunday; on Tuesday, his wife received a +letter from him: it told them, that on his arrival he had immediately +found out his brother, and persuaded him to come to Gracechurch Street. +That Mr. Bennet had been to Epsom and Clapham, before his arrival, but +without gaining any satisfactory information; and that he was now +determined to inquire at all the principal hotels in town, as Mr. Bennet +thought it possible they might have gone to one of them, on their first +coming to London, before they procured lodgings. Mr. Gardiner himself +did not expect any success from this measure; but as his brother was +eager in it, he meant to assist him in pursuing it. He added, that Mr. +Bennet seemed wholly disinclined at present to leave London, and +promised to write again very soon. There was also a postscript to this +effect:-- + +“I have written to Colonel Forster to desire him to find out, if +possible, from some of the young man’s intimates in the regiment, +whether Wickham has any relations or connections who would be likely to +know in what part of the town he has now concealed himself. If there +were anyone that one could apply to, with a probability of gaining such +a clue as that, it might be of essential consequence. At present we have +nothing to guide us. Colonel Forster will, I dare say, do everything in +his power to satisfy us on this head. But, on second thoughts, perhaps +Lizzy could tell us what relations he has now living better than any +other person.” + +Elizabeth was at no loss to understand from whence this deference for +her authority proceeded; but it was not in her power to give any +information of so satisfactory a nature as the compliment deserved. + +She had never heard of his having had any relations, except a father +and mother, both of whom had been dead many years. It was possible, +however, that some of his companions in the ----shire might be able to +give more information; and though she was not very sanguine in expecting +it, the application was a something to look forward to. + +Every day at Longbourn was now a day of anxiety; but the most anxious +part of each was when the post was expected. The arrival of letters was +the first grand object of every morning’s impatience. Through letters, +whatever of good or bad was to be told would be communicated; and every +succeeding day was expected to bring some news of importance. + +But before they heard again from Mr. Gardiner, a letter arrived for +their father, from a different quarter, from Mr. Collins; which, as Jane +had received directions to open all that came for him in his absence, +she accordingly read; and Elizabeth, who knew what curiosities his +letters always were, looked over her, and read it likewise. It was as +follows:-- + + /* “My dear Sir, */ + + “I feel myself called upon, by our relationship, and my situation + in life, to condole with you on the grievous affliction you are now + suffering under, of which we were yesterday informed by a letter + from Hertfordshire. Be assured, my dear sir, that Mrs. Collins and + myself sincerely sympathize with you, and all your respectable + family, in your present distress, which must be of the bitterest + kind, because proceeding from a cause which no time can remove. No + arguments shall be wanting on my part, that can alleviate so severe + a misfortune; or that may comfort you, under a circumstance that + must be, of all others, most afflicting to a parent’s mind. The + death of your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison of + this. And it is the more to be lamented, because there is reason to + suppose, as my dear Charlotte informs me, that this licentiousness + of behaviour in your + + [Illustration: + +“To whom I have related the affair” + + [_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + daughter has proceeded from a faulty degree of indulgence; though, + at the same time, for the consolation of yourself and Mrs. Bennet, + I am inclined to think that her own disposition must be naturally + bad, or she could not be guilty of such an enormity, at so early an + age. Howsoever that may be, you are grievously to be pitied; in + which opinion I am not only joined by Mrs. Collins, but likewise by + Lady Catherine and her daughter, to whom I have related the affair. + They agree with me in apprehending that this false step in one + daughter will be injurious to the fortunes of all the others: for + who, as Lady Catherine herself condescendingly says, will connect + themselves with such a family? And this consideration leads me, + moreover, to reflect, with augmented satisfaction, on a certain + event of last November; for had it been otherwise, I must have been + involved in all your sorrow and disgrace. Let me advise you, then, + my dear sir, to console yourself as much as possible, to throw off + your unworthy child from your affection for ever, and leave her to + reap the fruits of her own heinous offence. + +“I am, dear sir,” etc., etc. + +Mr. Gardiner did not write again, till he had received an answer from +Colonel Forster; and then he had nothing of a pleasant nature to send. +It was not known that Wickham had a single relation with whom he kept up +any connection, and it was certain that he had no near one living. His +former acquaintance had been numerous; but since he had been in the +militia, it did not appear that he was on terms of particular friendship +with any of them. There was no one, therefore, who could be pointed out +as likely to give any news of him. And in the wretched state of his own +finances, there was a very powerful motive for secrecy, in addition to +his fear of discovery by Lydia’s relations; for it had just transpired +that he had left gaming debts behind him to a very considerable amount. +Colonel Forster believed that more than a thousand pounds would be +necessary to clear his expenses at Brighton. He owed a good deal in the +town, but his debts of honour were still more formidable. Mr. Gardiner +did not attempt to conceal these particulars from the Longbourn family; +Jane heard them with horror. “A gamester!” she cried. “This is wholly +unexpected; I had not an idea of it.” + +Mr. Gardiner added, in his letter, that they might expect to see their +father at home on the following day, which was Saturday. Rendered +spiritless by the ill success of all their endeavours, he had yielded to +his brother-in-law’s entreaty that he would return to his family and +leave it to him to do whatever occasion might suggest to be advisable +for continuing their pursuit. When Mrs. Bennet was told of this, she did +not express so much satisfaction as her children expected, considering +what her anxiety for his life had been before. + +“What! is he coming home, and without poor Lydia?” she cried. “Sure he +will not leave London before he has found them. Who is to fight Wickham, +and make him marry her, if he comes away?” + +As Mrs. Gardiner began to wish to be at home, it was settled that she +and her children should go to London at the same time that Mr. Bennet +came from it. The coach, therefore, took them the first stage of their +journey, and brought its master back to Longbourn. + +Mrs. Gardiner went away in all the perplexity about Elizabeth and her +Derbyshire friend, that had attended her from that part of the world. +His name had never been voluntarily mentioned before them by her niece; +and the kind of half-expectation which Mrs. Gardiner had formed, of +their being followed by a letter from him, had ended in nothing. +Elizabeth had received none since her return, that could come from +Pemberley. + +The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other excuse for +the lowness of her spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be +fairly conjectured from _that_,--though Elizabeth, who was by this time +tolerably well acquainted with her own feelings, was perfectly aware +that, had she known nothing of Darcy, she could have borne the dread of +Lydia’s infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her, she thought, +one sleepless night out of two. + +When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the appearance of his usual +philosophic composure. He said as little as he had ever been in the +habit of saying; made no mention of the business that had taken him +away; and it was some time before his daughters had courage to speak of +it. + +It was not till the afternoon, when he joined them at tea, that +Elizabeth ventured to introduce the subject; and then, on her briefly +expressing her sorrow for what he must have endured, he replied, “Say +nothing of that. Who should suffer but myself? It has been my own doing, +and I ought to feel it.” + +“You must not be too severe upon yourself,” replied Elizabeth. + +“You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is so prone to +fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have +been to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression. +It will pass away soon enough.” + +“Do you suppose them to be in London?” + +“Yes; where else can they be so well concealed?” + +“And Lydia used to want to go to London,” added Kitty. + +“She is happy, then,” said her father, drily; “and her residence there +will probably be of some duration.” + +Then, after a short silence, he continued, “Lizzy, I bear you no +ill-will for being justified in your advice to me last May, which, +considering the event, shows some greatness of mind.” + +They were interrupted by Miss Bennet, who came to fetch her mother’s +tea. + +“This is a parade,” cried he, “which does one good; it gives such an +elegance to misfortune! Another day I will do the same; I will sit in my +library, in my nightcap and powdering gown, and give as much trouble as +I can,--or perhaps I may defer it till Kitty runs away.” + +“I am not going to run away, papa,” said Kitty, fretfully. “If _I_ +should ever go to Brighton, I would behave better than Lydia.” + +“_You_ go to Brighton! I would not trust you so near it as Eastbourne, +for fifty pounds! No, Kitty, I have at least learnt to be cautious, and +you will feel the effects of it. No officer is ever to enter my house +again, nor even to pass through the village. Balls will be absolutely +prohibited, unless you stand up with one of your sisters. And you are +never to stir out of doors, till you can prove that you have spent ten +minutes of every day in a rational manner.” + +Kitty, who took all these threats in a serious light, began to cry. + +“Well, well,” said he, “do not make yourself unhappy. If you are a good +girl for the next ten years, I will take you to a review at the end of +them.” + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. + + +[Illustration] + +Two days after Mr. Bennet’s return, as Jane and Elizabeth were walking +together in the shrubbery behind the house, they saw the housekeeper +coming towards them, and concluding that she came to call them to their +mother, went forward to meet her; but instead of the expected summons, +when they approached her, she said to Miss Bennet, “I beg your pardon, +madam, for interrupting you, but I was in hopes you might have got some +good news from town, so I took the liberty of coming to ask.” + +“What do you mean, Hill? We have heard nothing from town.” + +“Dear madam,” cried Mrs. Hill, in great astonishment, “don’t you know +there is an express come for master from Mr. Gardiner? He has been here +this half hour, and master has had a letter.” + +Away ran the girls, too eager to get in to have time for speech. They +ran through the vestibule into the breakfast-room; from thence to the +library;--their father was in neither; and they were on the point of +seeking him upstairs with their mother, when they were met by the +butler, who said,-- + +“If you are looking for my master, ma’am, he is walking towards the +little copse.” + +Upon this information, they instantly passed through the hall once more, +and ran across the lawn after their father, who was deliberately +pursuing his way towards a small wood on one side of the paddock. + +Jane, who was not so light, nor so much in the habit of running as +Elizabeth, soon lagged behind, while her sister, panting for breath, +came up with him, and eagerly cried out,-- + +“Oh, papa, what news? what news? have you heard from my uncle?” + +“Yes, I have had a letter from him by express.” + +“Well, and what news does it bring--good or bad?” + +“What is there of good to be expected?” said he, taking the letter from +his pocket; “but perhaps you would like to read it.” + +Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand. Jane now came up. + +“Read it aloud,” said their father, “for I hardly know myself what it is +about.” + + /* RIGHT “Gracechurch Street, _Monday, August 2_. */ + +“My dear Brother, + + “At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece, and such + as, upon the whole, I hope will give you satisfaction. Soon after + you left me on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to find out in what + part of London they were. The particulars I reserve till we meet. + It is enough to know they are discovered: I have seen them + both----” + + [Illustration: + +“But perhaps you would like to read it” + + [_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + “Then it is as I always hoped,” cried Jane: “they are married!” + + Elizabeth read on: “I have seen them both. They are not married, + nor can I find there was any intention of being so; but if you are + willing to perform the engagements which I have ventured to make on + your side, I hope it will not be long before they are. All that is + required of you is, to assure to your daughter, by settlement, her + equal share of the five thousand pounds, secured among your + children after the decease of yourself and my sister; and, + moreover, to enter into an engagement of allowing her, during your + life, one hundred pounds per annum. These are conditions which, + considering everything, I had no hesitation in complying with, as + far as I thought myself privileged, for you. I shall send this by + express, that no time may be lost in bringing me your answer. You + will easily comprehend, from these particulars, that Mr. Wickham’s + circumstances are not so hopeless as they are generally believed to + be. The world has been deceived in that respect; and I am happy to + say, there will be some little money, even when all his debts are + discharged, to settle on my niece, in addition to her own fortune. + If, as I conclude will be the case, you send me full powers to act + in your name throughout the whole of this business, I will + immediately give directions to Haggerston for preparing a proper + settlement. There will not be the smallest occasion for your coming + to town again; therefore stay quietly at Longbourn, and depend on + my diligence and care. Send back your answer as soon as you can, + and be careful to write explicitly. We have judged it best that my + niece should be married from this house, of which I hope you will + approve. She comes to us to-day. I shall write again as soon as + anything more is determined on. Yours, etc. + +“EDW. GARDINER.” + +“Is it possible?” cried Elizabeth, when she had finished. “Can it be +possible that he will marry her?” + +“Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we have thought him,” said her +sister. “My dear father, I congratulate you.” + +“And have you answered the letter?” said Elizabeth. + +“No; but it must be done soon.” + +Most earnestly did she then entreat him to lose no more time before he +wrote. + +“Oh! my dear father,” she cried, “come back and write immediately. +Consider how important every moment is in such a case.” + +“Let me write for you,” said Jane, “if you dislike the trouble +yourself.” + +“I dislike it very much,” he replied; “but it must be done.” + +And so saying, he turned back with them, and walked towards the house. + +“And--may I ask?” said Elizabeth; “but the terms, I suppose, must be +complied with.” + +“Complied with! I am only ashamed of his asking so little.” + +“And they _must_ marry! Yet he is _such_ a man.” + +“Yes, yes, they must marry. There is nothing else to be done. But there +are two things that I want very much to know:--one is, how much money +your uncle has laid down to bring it about; and the other, how I am ever +to pay him.” + +“Money! my uncle!” cried Jane, “what do you mean, sir?” + +“I mean that no man in his proper senses would marry Lydia on so slight +a temptation as one hundred a year during my life, and fifty after I am +gone.” + +“That is very true,” said Elizabeth; “though it had not occurred to me +before. His debts to be discharged, and something still to remain! Oh, +it must be my uncle’s doings! Generous, good man, I am afraid he has +distressed himself. A small sum could not do all this.” + +“No,” said her father. “Wickham’s a fool if he takes her with a farthing +less than ten thousand pounds: I should be sorry to think so ill of him, +in the very beginning of our relationship.” + +“Ten thousand pounds! Heaven forbid! How is half such a sum to be +repaid?” + +Mr. Bennet made no answer; and each of them, deep in thought, continued +silent till they reached the house. Their father then went to the +library to write, and the girls walked into the breakfast-room. + +“And they are really to be married!” cried Elizabeth, as soon as they +were by themselves. “How strange this is! and for _this_ we are to be +thankful. That they should marry, small as is their chance of happiness, +and wretched as is his character, we are forced to rejoice! Oh, Lydia!” + +“I comfort myself with thinking,” replied Jane, “that he certainly would +not marry Lydia, if he had not a real regard for her. Though our kind +uncle has done something towards clearing him, I cannot believe that ten +thousand pounds, or anything like it, has been advanced. He has children +of his own, and may have more. How could he spare half ten thousand +pounds?” + +“If we are ever able to learn what Wickham’s debts have been,” said +Elizabeth, “and how much is settled on his side on our sister, we shall +exactly know what Mr. Gardiner has done for them, because Wickham has +not sixpence of his own. The kindness of my uncle and aunt can never be +requited. Their taking her home, and affording her their personal +protection and countenance, is such a sacrifice to her advantage as +years of gratitude cannot enough acknowledge. By this time she is +actually with them! If such goodness does not make her miserable now, +she will never deserve to be happy! What a meeting for her, when she +first sees my aunt!” + +“We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either side,” said +Jane: “I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His consenting to marry +her is a proof, I will believe, that he is come to a right way of +thinking. Their mutual affection will steady them; and I flatter myself +they will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, as may in +time make their past imprudence forgotten.” + +“Their conduct has been such,” replied Elizabeth, “as neither you, nor +I, nor anybody, can ever forget. It is useless to talk of it.” + +It now occurred to the girls that their mother was in all likelihood +perfectly ignorant of what had happened. They went to the library, +therefore, and asked their father whether he would not wish them to make +it known to her. He was writing, and, without raising his head, coolly +replied,-- + +“Just as you please.” + +“May we take my uncle’s letter to read to her?” + +“Take whatever you like, and get away.” + +Elizabeth took the letter from his writing-table, and they went upstairs +together. Mary and Kitty were both with Mrs. Bennet: one communication +would, therefore, do for all. After a slight preparation for good news, +the letter was read aloud. Mrs. Bennet could hardly contain herself. As +soon as Jane had read Mr. Gardiner’s hope of Lydia’s being soon married, +her joy burst forth, and every following sentence added to its +exuberance. She was now in an irritation as violent from delight as she +had ever been fidgety from alarm and vexation. To know that her daughter +would be married was enough. She was disturbed by no fear for her +felicity, nor humbled by any remembrance of her misconduct. + +“My dear, dear Lydia!” she cried: “this is delightful indeed! She will +be married! I shall see her again! She will be married at sixteen! My +good, kind brother! I knew how it would be--I knew he would manage +everything. How I long to see her! and to see dear Wickham too! But the +clothes, the wedding clothes! I will write to my sister Gardiner about +them directly. Lizzy, my dear, run down to your father, and ask him how +much he will give her. Stay, stay, I will go myself. Ring the bell, +Kitty, for Hill. I will put on my things in a moment. My dear, dear +Lydia! How merry we shall be together when we meet!” + +Her eldest daughter endeavoured to give some relief to the violence of +these transports, by leading her thoughts to the obligations which Mr. +Gardiner’s behaviour laid them all under. + +“For we must attribute this happy conclusion,” she added, “in a great +measure to his kindness. We are persuaded that he has pledged himself to +assist Mr. Wickham with money.” + +“Well,” cried her mother, “it is all very right; who should do it but +her own uncle? If he had not had a family of his own, I and my children +must have had all his money, you know; and it is the first time we have +ever had anything from him except a few presents. Well! I am so happy. +In a short time, I shall have a daughter married. Mrs. Wickham! How well +it sounds! And she was only sixteen last June. My dear Jane, I am in +such a flutter, that I am sure I can’t write; so I will dictate, and you +write for me. We will settle with your father about the money +afterwards; but the things should be ordered immediately.” + +She was then proceeding to all the particulars of calico, muslin, and +cambric, and would shortly have dictated some very plentiful orders, had +not Jane, though with some difficulty, persuaded her to wait till her +father was at leisure to be consulted. One day’s delay, she observed, +would be of small importance; and her mother was too happy to be quite +so obstinate as usual. Other schemes, too, came into her head. + +“I will go to Meryton,” said she, “as soon as I am dressed, and tell the +good, good news to my sister Philips. And as I come back, I can call on +Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long. Kitty, run down and order the carriage. An +airing would do me a great deal of good, I am sure. Girls, can I do +anything for you in Meryton? Oh! here comes Hill. My dear Hill, have you +heard the good news? Miss Lydia is going to be married; and you shall +all have a bowl of punch to make merry at her wedding.” + +Mrs. Hill began instantly to express her joy. Elizabeth received her +congratulations amongst the rest, and then, sick of this folly, took +refuge in her own room, that she might think with freedom. Poor Lydia’s +situation must, at best, be bad enough; but that it was no worse, she +had need to be thankful. She felt it so; and though, in looking forward, +neither rational happiness, nor worldly prosperity could be justly +expected for her sister, in looking back to what they had feared, only +two hours ago, she felt all the advantages of what they had gained. + + + + +[Illustration: + +“The spiteful old ladies” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +CHAPTER L. + + +[Illustration] + +Mr. Bennet had very often wished, before this period of his life, that, +instead of spending his whole income, he had laid by an annual sum, for +the better provision of his children, and of his wife, if she survived +him. He now wished it more than ever. Had he done his duty in that +respect, Lydia need not have been indebted to her uncle for whatever of +honour or credit could now be purchased for her. The satisfaction of +prevailing on one of the most worthless young men in Great Britain to +be her husband might then have rested in its proper place. + +He was seriously concerned that a cause of so little advantage to anyone +should be forwarded at the sole expense of his brother-in-law; and he +was determined, if possible, to find out the extent of his assistance, +and to discharge the obligation as soon as he could. + +When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to be perfectly +useless; for, of course, they were to have a son. This son was to join +in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should be of age, and the widow +and younger children would by that means be provided for. Five daughters +successively entered the world, but yet the son was to come; and Mrs. +Bennet, for many years after Lydia’s birth, had been certain that he +would. This event had at last been despaired of, but it was then too +late to be saving. Mrs. Bennet had no turn for economy; and her +husband’s love of independence had alone prevented their exceeding their +income. + +Five thousand pounds was settled by marriage articles on Mrs. Bennet and +the children. But in what proportions it should be divided amongst the +latter depended on the will of the parents. This was one point, with +regard to Lydia at least, which was now to be settled, and Mr. Bennet +could have no hesitation in acceding to the proposal before him. In +terms of grateful acknowledgment for the kindness of his brother, though +expressed most concisely, he then delivered on paper his perfect +approbation of all that was done, and his willingness to fulfil the +engagements that had been made for him. He had never before supposed +that, could Wickham be prevailed on to marry his daughter, it would be +done with so little inconvenience to himself as by the present +arrangement. He would scarcely be ten pounds a year the loser, by the +hundred that was to be paid them; for, what with her board and pocket +allowance, and the continual presents in money which passed to her +through her mother’s hands, Lydia’s expenses had been very little within +that sum. + +That it would be done with such trifling exertion on his side, too, was +another very welcome surprise; for his chief wish at present was to have +as little trouble in the business as possible. When the first transports +of rage which had produced his activity in seeking her were over, he +naturally returned to all his former indolence. His letter was soon +despatched; for though dilatory in undertaking business, he was quick in +its execution. He begged to know further particulars of what he was +indebted to his brother; but was too angry with Lydia to send any +message to her. + +The good news quickly spread through the house; and with proportionate +speed through the neighbourhood. It was borne in the latter with decent +philosophy. To be sure, it would have been more for the advantage of +conversation, had Miss Lydia Bennet come upon the town; or, as the +happiest alternative, been secluded from the world in some distant +farm-house. But there was much to be talked of, in marrying her; and the +good-natured wishes for her well-doing, which had proceeded before from +all the spiteful old ladies in Meryton, lost but little of their spirit +in this change of circumstances, because with such a husband her misery +was considered certain. + +It was a fortnight since Mrs. Bennet had been down stairs, but on this +happy day she again took her seat at the head of her table, and in +spirits oppressively high. No sentiment of shame gave a damp to her +triumph. The marriage of a daughter, which had been the first object of +her wishes since Jane was sixteen, was now on the point of +accomplishment, and her thoughts and her words ran wholly on those +attendants of elegant nuptials, fine muslins, new carriages, and +servants. She was busily searching through the neighbourhood for a +proper situation for her daughter; and, without knowing or considering +what their income might be, rejected many as deficient in size and +importance. + +“Haye Park might do,” said she, “if the Gouldings would quit it, or the +great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but Ashworth is +too far off. I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for +Purvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful.” + +Her husband allowed her to talk on without interruption while the +servants remained. But when they had withdrawn, he said to her, “Mrs. +Bennet, before you take any, or all of these houses, for your son and +daughter, let us come to a right understanding. Into _one_ house in this +neighbourhood they shall never have admittance. I will not encourage the +imprudence of either, by receiving them at Longbourn.” + +A long dispute followed this declaration; but Mr. Bennet was firm: it +soon led to another; and Mrs. Bennet found, with amazement and horror, +that her husband would not advance a guinea to buy clothes for his +daughter. He protested that she should receive from him no mark of +affection whatever on the occasion. Mrs. Bennet could hardly comprehend +it. That his anger could be carried to such a point of inconceivable +resentment as to refuse his daughter a privilege, without which her +marriage would scarcely seem valid, exceeded all that she could believe +possible. She was more alive to the disgrace, which her want of new +clothes must reflect on her daughter’s nuptials, than to any sense of +shame at her eloping and living with Wickham a fortnight before they +took place. + +Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she had, from the distress of +the moment, been led to make Mr. Darcy acquainted with their fears for +her sister; for since her marriage would so shortly give the proper +termination to the elopement, they might hope to conceal its +unfavourable beginning from all those who were not immediately on the +spot. + +She had no fear of its spreading farther, through his means. There were +few people on whose secrecy she would have more confidently depended; +but at the same time there was no one whose knowledge of a sister’s +frailty would have mortified her so much. Not, however, from any fear of +disadvantage from it individually to herself; for at any rate there +seemed a gulf impassable between them. Had Lydia’s marriage been +concluded on the most honourable terms, it was not to be supposed that +Mr. Darcy would connect himself with a family, where to every other +objection would now be added an alliance and relationship of the nearest +kind with the man whom he so justly scorned. + +From such a connection she could not wonder that he should shrink. The +wish of procuring her regard, which she had assured herself of his +feeling in Derbyshire, could not in rational expectation survive such a +blow as this. She was humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though she +hardly knew of what. She became jealous of his esteem, when she could no +longer hope to be benefited by it. She wanted to hear of him, when there +seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence. She was convinced that +she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely they +should meet. + +What a triumph for him, as she often thought, could he know that the +proposals which she had proudly spurned only four months ago would now +have been gladly and gratefully received! He was as generous, she +doubted not, as the most generous of his sex. But while he was mortal, +there must be a triumph. + +She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in +disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and +temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes. It +was an union that must have been to the advantage of both: by her ease +and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved; +and from his judgment, information, and knowledge of the world, she must +have received benefit of greater importance. + +But no such happy marriage could now teach the admiring multitude what +connubial felicity really was. An union of a different tendency, and +precluding the possibility of the other, was soon to be formed in their +family. + +How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported in tolerable independence she +could not imagine. But how little of permanent happiness could belong to +a couple who were only brought together because their passions were +stronger than their virtue, she could easily conjecture. + +Mr. Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother. To Mr. Bennet’s +acknowledgments he briefly replied, with assurances of his eagerness to +promote the welfare of any of his family; and concluded with entreaties +that the subject might never be mentioned to him again. The principal +purport of his letter was to inform them, that Mr. Wickham had resolved +on quitting the militia. + +“It was greatly my wish that he should do so,” he added, “as soon as his +marriage was fixed on. And I think you will agree with me, in +considering a removal from that corps as highly advisable, both on his +account and my niece’s. It is Mr. Wickham’s intention to go into the +Regulars; and, among his former friends, there are still some who are +able and willing to assist him in the army. He has the promise of an +ensigncy in General----’s regiment, now quartered in the north. It is +an advantage to have it so far from this part of the kingdom. He +promises fairly; and I hope among different people, where they may each +have a character to preserve, they will both be more prudent. I have +written to Colonel Forster, to inform him of our present arrangements, +and to request that he will satisfy the various creditors of Mr. Wickham +in and near Brighton with assurances of speedy payment, for which I have +pledged myself. And will you give yourself the trouble of carrying +similar assurances to his creditors in Meryton, of whom I shall subjoin +a list, according to his information? He has given in all his debts; I +hope at least he has not deceived us. Haggerston has our directions, and +all will be completed in a week. They will then join his regiment, +unless they are first invited to Longbourn; and I understand from Mrs. +Gardiner that my niece is very desirous of seeing you all before she +leaves the south. She is well, and begs to be dutifully remembered to +you and her mother.--Yours, etc. + +“E. GARDINER.” + +Mr. Bennet and his daughters saw all the advantages of Wickham’s +removal from the ----shire, as clearly as Mr. Gardiner could do. But +Mrs. Bennet was not so well pleased with it. Lydia’s being settled in +the north, just when she had expected most pleasure and pride in her +company, for she had by no means given up her plan of their residing in +Hertfordshire, was a severe disappointment; and, besides, it was such a +pity that Lydia should be taken from a regiment where she was acquainted +with everybody, and had so many favourites. + +“She is so fond of Mrs. Forster,” said she, “it will be quite shocking +to send her away! And there are several of the young men, too, that she +likes very much. The officers may not be so pleasant in General----’s +regiment.” + +His daughter’s request, for such it might be considered, of being +admitted into her family again, before she set off for the north, +received at first an absolute negative. But Jane and Elizabeth, who +agreed in wishing, for the sake of their sister’s feelings and +consequence, that she should be noticed on her marriage by her parents, +urged him so earnestly, yet so rationally and so mildly, to receive her +and her husband at Longbourn, as soon as they were married, that he was +prevailed on to think as they thought, and act as they wished. And their +mother had the satisfaction of knowing, that she should be able to show +her married daughter in the neighbourhood, before she was banished to +the north. When Mr. Bennet wrote again to his brother, therefore, he +sent his permission for them to come; and it was settled, that, as soon +as the ceremony was over, they should proceed to Longbourn. Elizabeth +was surprised, however, that Wickham should consent to such a scheme; +and, had she consulted only her own inclination, any meeting with him +would have been the last object of her wishes. + + + + +[Illustration: + +“With an affectionate smile” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +CHAPTER LI. + + +[Illustration] + +Their sister’s wedding-day arrived; and Jane and Elizabeth felt for her +probably more than she felt for herself. The carriage was sent to meet +them at----, and they were to return in it by dinnertime. Their arrival +was dreaded by the elder Miss Bennets--and Jane more especially, who +gave Lydia the feelings which would have attended herself, had _she_ +been the culprit, and was wretched in the thought of what her sister +must endure. + +They came. The family were assembled in the breakfast-room to receive +them. Smiles decked the face of Mrs. Bennet, as the carriage drove up to +the door; her husband looked impenetrably grave; her daughters, alarmed, +anxious, uneasy. + +Lydia’s voice was heard in the vestibule; the door was thrown open, and +she ran into the room. Her mother stepped forwards, embraced her, and +welcomed her with rapture; gave her hand with an affectionate smile to +Wickham, who followed his lady; and wished them both joy, with an +alacrity which showed no doubt of their happiness. + +Their reception from Mr. Bennet, to whom they then turned, was not quite +so cordial. His countenance rather gained in austerity; and he scarcely +opened his lips. The easy assurance of the young couple, indeed, was +enough to provoke him. + +Elizabeth was disgusted, and even Miss Bennet was shocked. Lydia was +Lydia still; untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy, and fearless. She turned +from sister to sister, demanding their congratulations; and when at +length they all sat down, looked eagerly round the room, took notice of +some little alteration in it, and observed, with a laugh, that it was a +great while since she had been there. + +Wickham was not at all more distressed than herself; but his manners +were always so pleasing, that, had his character and his marriage been +exactly what they ought, his smiles and his easy address, while he +claimed their relationship, would have delighted them all. Elizabeth +had not before believed him quite equal to such assurance; but she sat +down, resolving within herself to draw no limits in future to the +impudence of an impudent man. _She_ blushed, and Jane blushed; but the +cheeks of the two who caused their confusion suffered no variation of +colour. + +There was no want of discourse. The bride and her mother could neither +of them talk fast enough; and Wickham, who happened to sit near +Elizabeth, began inquiring after his acquaintance in that neighbourhood, +with a good-humoured ease, which she felt very unable to equal in her +replies. They seemed each of them to have the happiest memories in the +world. Nothing of the past was recollected with pain; and Lydia led +voluntarily to subjects which her sisters would not have alluded to for +the world. + +“Only think of its being three months,” she cried, “since I went away: +it seems but a fortnight, I declare; and yet there have been things +enough happened in the time. Good gracious! when I went away, I am sure +I had no more idea of being married till I came back again! though I +thought it would be very good fun if I was.” + +Her father lifted up his eyes, Jane was distressed, Elizabeth looked +expressively at Lydia; but she, who never heard nor saw anything of +which she chose to be insensible, gaily continued,-- + +“Oh, mamma, do the people hereabouts know I am married to-day? I was +afraid they might not; and we overtook William Goulding in his curricle, +so I was determined he should know it, and so I let down the side glass +next to him, and took off my glove and let my hand just rest upon the +window frame, so that he might see the ring, and then I bowed and +smiled like anything.” + +Elizabeth could bear it no longer. She got up and ran out of the room; +and returned no more, till she heard them passing through the hall to +the dining-parlour. She then joined them soon enough to see Lydia, with +anxious parade, walk up to her mother’s right hand, and hear her say to +her eldest sister,-- + +“Ah, Jane, I take your place now, and you must go lower, because I am a +married woman.” + +It was not to be supposed that time would give Lydia that embarrassment +from which she had been so wholly free at first. Her ease and good +spirits increased. She longed to see Mrs. Philips, the Lucases, and all +their other neighbours, and to hear herself called “Mrs. Wickham” by +each of them; and in the meantime she went after dinner to show her ring +and boast of being married to Mrs. Hill and the two housemaids. + +“Well, mamma,” said she, when they were all returned to the +breakfast-room, “and what do you think of my husband? Is not he a +charming man? I am sure my sisters must all envy me. I only hope they +may have half my good luck. They must all go to Brighton. That is the +place to get husbands. What a pity it is, mamma, we did not all go!” + +“Very true; and if I had my will we should. But, my dear Lydia, I don’t +at all like your going such a way off. Must it be so?” + +“Oh, Lord! yes; there is nothing in that. I shall like it of all things. +You and papa, and my sisters, must come down and see us. We shall be at +Newcastle all the winter, and I dare say there will be some balls, and I +will take care to get good partners for them all.” + +“I should like it beyond anything!” said her mother. + +“And then when you go away, you may leave one or two of my sisters +behind you; and I dare say I shall get husbands for them before the +winter is over.” + +“I thank you for my share of the favour,” said Elizabeth; “but I do not +particularly like your way of getting husbands.” + +Their visitors were not to remain above ten days with them. Mr. Wickham +had received his commission before he left London, and he was to join +his regiment at the end of a fortnight. + +No one but Mrs. Bennet regretted that their stay would be so short; and +she made the most of the time by visiting about with her daughter, and +having very frequent parties at home. These parties were acceptable to +all; to avoid a family circle was even more desirable to such as did +think than such as did not. + +Wickham’s affection for Lydia was just what Elizabeth had expected to +find it; not equal to Lydia’s for him. She had scarcely needed her +present observation to be satisfied, from the reason of things, that +their elopement had been brought on by the strength of her love rather +than by his; and she would have wondered why, without violently caring +for her, he chose to elope with her at all, had she not felt certain +that his flight was rendered necessary by distress of circumstances; and +if that were the case, he was not the young man to resist an opportunity +of having a companion. + +Lydia was exceedingly fond of him. He was her dear Wickham on every +occasion; no one was to be put in competition with him. He did +everything best in the world; and she was sure he would kill more birds +on the first of September than anybody else in the country. + +One morning, soon after their arrival, as she was sitting with her two +elder sisters, she said to Elizabeth,-- + +“Lizzy, I never gave _you_ an account of my wedding, I believe. You were +not by, when I told mamma, and the others, all about it. Are not you +curious to hear how it was managed?” + +“No, really,” replied Elizabeth; “I think there cannot be too little +said on the subject.” + +“La! You are so strange! But I must tell you how it went off. We were +married, you know, at St. Clement’s, because Wickham’s lodgings were in +that parish. And it was settled that we should all be there by eleven +o’clock. My uncle and aunt and I were to go together; and the others +were to meet us at the church. + +“Well, Monday morning came, and I was in such a fuss! I was so afraid, +you know, that something would happen to put it off, and then I should +have gone quite distracted. And there was my aunt, all the time I was +dressing, preaching and talking away just as if she was reading a +sermon. However, I did not hear above one word in ten, for I was +thinking, you may suppose, of my dear Wickham. I longed to know whether +he would be married in his blue coat. + +“Well, and so we breakfasted at ten as usual: I thought it would never +be over; for, by the bye, you are to understand that my uncle and aunt +were horrid unpleasant all the time I was with them. If you’ll believe +me, I did not once put my foot out of doors, though I was there a +fortnight. Not one party, or scheme, or anything! To be sure, London was +rather thin, but, however, the Little Theatre was open. + +“Well, and so, just as the carriage came to the door, my uncle was +called away upon business to that horrid man Mr. Stone. And then, you +know, when once they get together, there is no end of it. Well, I was so +frightened I did not know what to do, for my uncle was to give me away; +and if we were beyond the hour we could not be married all day. But, +luckily, he came back again in ten minutes’ time, and then we all set +out. However, I recollected afterwards, that if he _had_ been prevented +going, the wedding need not be put off, for Mr. Darcy might have done as +well.” + +“Mr. Darcy!” repeated Elizabeth, in utter amazement. + +“Oh, yes! he was to come there with Wickham, you know. But, gracious me! +I quite forgot! I ought not to have said a word about it. I promised +them so faithfully! What will Wickham say? It was to be such a secret!” + +“If it was to be a secret,” said Jane, “say not another word on the +subject. You may depend upon my seeking no further.” + +“Oh, certainly,” said Elizabeth, though burning with curiosity; “we will +ask you no questions.” + +“Thank you,” said Lydia; “for if you did, I should certainly tell you +all, and then Wickham would be so angry.” + +On such encouragement to ask, Elizabeth was forced to put it out of her +power, by running away. + +But to live in ignorance on such a point was impossible; or at least it +was impossible not to try for information. Mr. Darcy had been at her +sister’s wedding. It was exactly a scene, and exactly among people, +where he had apparently least to do, and least temptation to go. +Conjectures as to the meaning of it, rapid and wild, hurried into her +brain; but she was satisfied with none. Those that best pleased her, as +placing his conduct in the noblest light, seemed most improbable. She +could not bear such suspense; and hastily seizing a sheet of paper, +wrote a short letter to her aunt, to request an explanation of what +Lydia had dropped, if it were compatible with the secrecy which had been +intended. + +“You may readily comprehend,” she added, “what my curiosity must be to +know how a person unconnected with any of us, and, comparatively +speaking, a stranger to our family, should have been amongst you at such +a time. Pray write instantly, and let me understand it--unless it is, +for very cogent reasons, to remain in the secrecy which Lydia seems to +think necessary; and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with +ignorance.” + +“Not that I _shall_, though,” she added to herself, and she finished the +letter; “and, my dear aunt, if you do not tell me in an honourable +manner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find it +out.” + +Jane’s delicate sense of honour would not allow her to speak to +Elizabeth privately of what Lydia had let fall; Elizabeth was glad of +it:--till it appeared whether her inquiries would receive any +satisfaction, she had rather be without a confidante. + + + + +[Illustration: + +“I am sure she did not listen.” +] + + + + +CHAPTER LII. + + +[Illustration] + +Elizabeth had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to her letter as +soon as she possibly could. She was no sooner in possession of it, than +hurrying into the little copse, where she was least likely to be +interrupted, she sat down on one of the benches, and prepared to be +happy; for the length of the letter convinced her that it did not +contain a denial. + + /* RIGHT “Gracechurch Street, _Sept. 6_. */ + +“My dear Niece, + + “I have just received your letter, and shall devote this whole + morning to answering it, as I foresee that a _little_ writing will + not comprise what I have to tell you. I must confess myself + surprised by your application; I did not expect it from _you_. + Don’t think me angry, however, for I only mean to let you know, + that I had not imagined such inquiries to be necessary on _your_ + side. If you do not choose to understand me, forgive my + impertinence. Your uncle is as much surprised as I am; and nothing + but the belief of your being a party concerned would have allowed + him to act as he has done. But if you are really innocent and + ignorant, I must be more explicit. On the very day of my coming + home from Longbourn, your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. Mr. + Darcy called, and was shut up with him several hours. It was all + over before I arrived; so my curiosity was not so dreadfully racked + as _yours_ seems to have been. He came to tell Mr. Gardiner that he + had found out where your sister and Mr. Wickham were, and that he + had seen and talked with them both--Wickham repeatedly, Lydia once. + From what I can collect, he left Derbyshire only one day after + ourselves, and came to town with the resolution of hunting for + them. The motive professed was his conviction of its being owing to + himself that Wickham’s worthlessness had not been so well known as + to make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or + confide in him. He generously imputed the whole to his mistaken + pride, and confessed that he had before thought it beneath him to + lay his private actions open to the world. His character was to + speak for itself. He called it, therefore, his duty to step + forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil which had been brought on + by himself. If he _had another_ motive, I am sure it would never + disgrace him. He had been some days in town before he was able to + discover them; but he had something to direct his search, which was + more than _we_ had; and the consciousness of this was another + reason for his resolving to follow us. There is a lady, it seems, a + Mrs. Younge, who was some time ago governess to Miss Darcy, and was + dismissed from her charge on some cause of disapprobation, though + he did not say what. She then took a large house in Edward Street, + and has since maintained herself by letting lodgings. This Mrs. + Younge was, he knew, intimately acquainted with Wickham; and he + went to her for intelligence of him, as soon as he got to town. But + it was two or three days before he could get from her what he + wanted. She would not betray her trust, I suppose, without bribery + and corruption, for she really did know where her friend was to be + found. Wickham, indeed, had gone to her on their first arrival in + London; and had she been able to receive them into her house, they + would have taken up their abode with her. At length, however, our + kind friend procured the wished-for direction. They were in ---- + Street. He saw Wickham, and afterwards insisted on seeing Lydia. + His first object with her, he acknowledged, had been to persuade + her to quit her present disgraceful situation, and return to her + friends as soon as they could be prevailed on to receive her, + offering his assistance as far as it would go. But he found Lydia + absolutely resolved on remaining where she was. She cared for none + of her friends; she wanted no help of his; she would not hear of + leaving Wickham. She was sure they should be married some time or + other, and it did not much signify when. Since such were her + feelings, it only remained, he thought, to secure and expedite a + marriage, which, in his very first conversation with Wickham, he + easily learnt had never been _his_ design. He confessed himself + obliged to leave the regiment on account of some debts of honour + which were very pressing; and scrupled not to lay all the ill + consequences of Lydia’s flight on her own folly alone. He meant to + resign his commission immediately; and as to his future situation, + he could conjecture very little about it. He must go somewhere, but + he did not know where, and he knew he should have nothing to live + on. Mr. Darcy asked why he did not marry your sister at once. + Though Mr. Bennet was not imagined to be very rich, he would have + been able to do something for him, and his situation must have been + benefited by marriage. But he found, in reply to this question, + that Wickham still cherished the hope of more effectually making + his fortune by marriage, in some other country. Under such + circumstances, however, he was not likely to be proof against the + temptation of immediate relief. They met several times, for there + was much to be discussed. Wickham, of course, wanted more than he + could get; but at length was reduced to be reasonable. Everything + being settled between _them_, Mr. Darcy’s next step was to make + your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Gracechurch + Street the evening before I came home. But Mr. Gardiner could not + be seen; and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father + was still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did + not judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly + consult as your uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him + till after the departure of the former. He did not leave his name, + and till the next day it was only known that a gentleman had called + on business. On Saturday he came again. Your father was gone, your + uncle at home, and, as I said before, they had a great deal of talk + together. They met again on Sunday, and then _I_ saw him too. It + was not all settled before Monday: as soon as it was, the express + was sent off to Longbourn. But our visitor was very obstinate. I + fancy, Lizzy, that obstinacy is the real defect of his character, + after all. He has been accused of many faults at different times; + but _this_ is the true one. Nothing was to be done that he did not + do himself; though I am sure (and I do not speak it to be thanked, + therefore say nothing about it) your uncle would most readily have + settled the whole. They battled it together for a long time, which + was more than either the gentleman or lady concerned in it + deserved. But at last your uncle was forced to yield, and instead + of being allowed to be of use to his niece, was forced to put up + with only having the probable credit of it, which went sorely + against the grain; and I really believe your letter this morning + gave him great pleasure, because it required an explanation that + would rob him of his borrowed feathers, and give the praise where + it was due. But, Lizzy, this must go no further than yourself, or + Jane at most. You know pretty well, I suppose, what has been done + for the young people. His debts are to be paid, amounting, I + believe, to considerably more than a thousand pounds, another + thousand in addition to her own settled upon _her_, and his + commission purchased. The reason why all this was to be done by him + alone, was such as I have given above. It was owing to him, to his + reserve and want of proper consideration, that Wickham’s character + had been so misunderstood, and consequently that he had been + received and noticed as he was. Perhaps there was some truth in + _this_; though I doubt whether _his_ reserve, or _anybody’s_ + reserve can be answerable for the event. But in spite of all this + fine talking, my dear Lizzy, you may rest perfectly assured that + your uncle would never have yielded, if we had not given him credit + for _another interest_ in the affair. When all this was resolved + on, he returned again to his friends, who were still staying at + Pemberley; but it was agreed that he should be in London once more + when the wedding took place, and all money matters were then to + receive the last finish. I believe I have now told you everything. + It is a relation which you tell me is to give you great surprise; I + hope at least it will not afford you any displeasure. Lydia came to + us, and Wickham had constant admission to the house. _He_ was + exactly what he had been when I knew him in Hertfordshire; but I + would not tell you how little I was satisfied with _her_ behaviour + while she stayed with us, if I had not perceived, by Jane’s letter + last Wednesday, that her conduct on coming home was exactly of a + piece with it, and therefore what I now tell you can give you no + fresh pain. I talked to her repeatedly in the most serious manner, + representing to her the wickedness of what she had done, and all + the unhappiness she had brought on her family. If she heard me, it + was by good luck, for I am sure she did not listen. I was sometimes + quite provoked; but then I recollected my dear Elizabeth and Jane, + and for their sakes had patience with her. Mr. Darcy was punctual + in his return, and, as Lydia informed you, attended the wedding. He + dined with us the next day, and was to leave town again on + Wednesday or Thursday. Will you be very angry with me, my dear + Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying (what I was never bold + enough to say before) how much I like him? His behaviour to us has, + in every respect, been as pleasing as when we were in Derbyshire. + His understanding and opinions all please me; he wants nothing but + a little more liveliness, and _that_, if he marry _prudently_, his + wife may teach him. I thought him very sly; he hardly ever + mentioned your name. But slyness seems the fashion. Pray forgive + me, if I have been very presuming, or at least do not punish me so + far as to exclude me from P. I shall never be quite happy till I + have been all round the park. A low phaeton with a nice little pair + of ponies would be the very thing. But I must write no more. The + children have been wanting me this half hour. + +“Yours, very sincerely, + +“M. GARDINER.” + + +The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth into a flutter of spirits, +in which it was difficult to determine whether pleasure or pain bore the +greatest share. The vague and unsettled suspicions which uncertainty had +produced, of what Mr. Darcy might have been doing to forward her +sister’s match--which she had feared to encourage, as an exertion of +goodness too great to be probable, and at the same time dreaded to be +just, from the pain of obligation--were proved beyond their greatest +extent to be true! He had followed them purposely to town, he had taken +on himself all the trouble and mortification attendant on such a +research; in which supplication had been necessary to a woman whom he +must abominate and despise, and where he was reduced to meet, frequently +meet, reason with, persuade, and finally bribe the man whom he always +most wished to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to +pronounce. He had done all this for a girl whom he could neither regard +nor esteem. Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her. But it +was a hope shortly checked by other considerations; and she soon felt +that even her vanity was insufficient, when required to depend on his +affection for her, for a woman who had already refused him, as able to +overcome a sentiment so natural as abhorrence against relationship with +Wickham. Brother-in-law of Wickham! Every kind of pride must revolt from +the connection. He had, to be sure, done much. She was ashamed to think +how much. But he had given a reason for his interference, which asked no +extraordinary stretch of belief. It was reasonable that he should feel +he had been wrong; he had liberality, and he had the means of exercising +it; and though she would not place herself as his principal inducement, +she could perhaps believe, that remaining partiality for her might +assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind must be +materially concerned. It was painful, exceedingly painful, to know that +they were under obligations to a person who could never receive a +return. They owed the restoration of Lydia, her character, everything to +him. Oh, how heartily did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she +had ever encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed towards +him! For herself she was humbled; but she was proud of him,--proud that +in a cause of compassion and honour he had been able to get the better +of himself. She read over her aunt’s commendation of him again and +again. It was hardly enough; but it pleased her. She was even sensible +of some pleasure, though mixed with regret, on finding how steadfastly +both she and her uncle had been persuaded that affection and confidence +subsisted between Mr. Darcy and herself. + +She was roused from her seat and her reflections, by someone’s approach; +and, before she could strike into another path, she was overtaken by +Wickham. + +“I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear sister?” said he, +as he joined her. + +“You certainly do,” she replied with a smile; “but it does not follow +that the interruption must be unwelcome.” + +“I should be sorry, indeed, if it were. _We_ were always good friends, +and now we are better.” + +“True. Are the others coming out?” + +“I do not know. Mrs. Bennet and Lydia are going in the carriage to +Meryton. And so, my dear sister, I find, from our uncle and aunt, that +you have actually seen Pemberley.” + +She replied in the affirmative. + +“I almost envy you the pleasure, and yet I believe it would be too much +for me, or else I could take it in my way to Newcastle. And you saw the +old housekeeper, I suppose? Poor Reynolds, she was always very fond of +me. But of course she did not mention my name to you.” + +“Yes, she did.” + +“And what did she say?” + +“That you were gone into the army, and she was afraid had--not turned +out well. At such a distance as _that_, you know, things are strangely +misrepresented.” + +“Certainly,” he replied, biting his lips. Elizabeth hoped she had +silenced him; but he soon afterwards said,-- + +“I was surprised to see Darcy in town last month. We passed each other +several times. I wonder what he can be doing there.” + +“Perhaps preparing for his marriage with Miss de Bourgh,” said +Elizabeth. “It must be something particular to take him there at this +time of year.” + +“Undoubtedly. Did you see him while you were at Lambton? I thought I +understood from the Gardiners that you had.” + +“Yes; he introduced us to his sister.” + +“And do you like her?” + +“Very much.” + +“I have heard, indeed, that she is uncommonly improved within this year +or two. When I last saw her, she was not very promising. I am very glad +you liked her. I hope she will turn out well.” + +“I dare say she will; she has got over the most trying age.” + +“Did you go by the village of Kympton?” + +“I do not recollect that we did.” + +“I mention it because it is the living which I ought to have had. A most +delightful place! Excellent parsonage-house! It would have suited me in +every respect.” + +“How should you have liked making sermons?” + +“Exceedingly well. I should have considered it as part of my duty, and +the exertion would soon have been nothing. One ought not to repine; but, +to be sure, it would have been such a thing for me! The quiet, the +retirement of such a life, would have answered all my ideas of +happiness! But it was not to be. Did you ever hear Darcy mention the +circumstance when you were in Kent?” + +“I _have_ heard from authority, which I thought _as good_, that it was +left you conditionally only, and at the will of the present patron.” + +“You have! Yes, there was something in _that_; I told you so from the +first, you may remember.” + +“I _did_ hear, too, that there was a time when sermon-making was not so +palatable to you as it seems to be at present; that you actually +declared your resolution of never taking orders, and that the business +had been compromised accordingly.” + +“You did! and it was not wholly without foundation. You may remember +what I told you on that point, when first we talked of it.” + +They were now almost at the door of the house, for she had walked fast +to get rid of him; and unwilling, for her sister’s sake, to provoke him, +she only said in reply, with a good-humoured smile,-- + +“Come, Mr. Wickham, we are brother and sister, you know. Do not let us +quarrel about the past. In future, I hope we shall be always of one +mind.” + +She held out her hand: he kissed it with affectionate gallantry, though +he hardly knew how to look, and they entered the house. + + + + +[Illustration: + +“Mr. Darcy with him.” +] + + + + +CHAPTER LIII. + + +[Illustration] + +Mr. Wickham was so perfectly satisfied with this conversation, that he +never again distressed himself, or provoked his dear sister Elizabeth, +by introducing the subject of it; and she was pleased to find that she +had said enough to keep him quiet. + +The day of his and Lydia’s departure soon came; and Mrs. Bennet was +forced to submit to a separation, which, as her husband by no means +entered into her scheme of their all going to Newcastle, was likely to +continue at least a twelvemonth. + +“Oh, my dear Lydia,” she cried, “when shall we meet again?” + +“Oh, Lord! I don’t know. Not these two or three years, perhaps.” + +“Write to me very often, my dear.” + +“As often as I can. But you know married women have never much time for +writing. My sisters may write to _me_. They will have nothing else to +do.” + +Mr. Wickham’s adieus were much more affectionate than his wife’s. He +smiled, looked handsome, and said many pretty things. + +“He is as fine a fellow,” said Mr. Bennet, as soon as they were out of +the house, “as ever I saw. He simpers, and smirks, and makes love to us +all. I am prodigiously proud of him. I defy even Sir William Lucas +himself to produce a more valuable son-in-law.” + +The loss of her daughter made Mrs. Bennet very dull for several days. + +“I often think,” said she, “that there is nothing so bad as parting with +one’s friends. One seems so forlorn without them.” + +“This is the consequence, you see, madam, of marrying a daughter,” said +Elizabeth. “It must make you better satisfied that your other four are +single.” + +“It is no such thing. Lydia does not leave me because she is married; +but only because her husband’s regiment happens to be so far off. If +that had been nearer, she would not have gone so soon.” + +But the spiritless condition which this event threw her into was shortly +relieved, and her mind opened again to the agitation of hope, by an +article of news which then began to be in circulation. The housekeeper +at Netherfield had received orders to prepare for the arrival of her +master, who was coming down in a day or two, to shoot there for several +weeks. Mrs. Bennet was quite in the fidgets. She looked at Jane, and +smiled, and shook her head, by turns. + +“Well, well, and so Mr. Bingley is coming down, sister,” (for Mrs. +Philips first brought her the news). “Well, so much the better. Not that +I care about it, though. He is nothing to us, you know, and I am sure I +never want to see him again. But, however, he is very welcome to come to +Netherfield, if he likes it. And who knows what _may_ happen? But that +is nothing to us. You know, sister, we agreed long ago never to mention +a word about it. And so, it is quite certain he is coming?” + +“You may depend on it,” replied the other, “for Mrs. Nichols was in +Meryton last night: I saw her passing by, and went out myself on purpose +to know the truth of it; and she told me that it was certainly true. He +comes down on Thursday, at the latest, very likely on Wednesday. She was +going to the butcher’s, she told me, on purpose to order in some meat on +Wednesday, and she has got three couple of ducks just fit to be killed.” + +Miss Bennet had not been able to hear of his coming without changing +colour. It was many months since she had mentioned his name to +Elizabeth; but now, as soon as they were alone together, she said,-- + +“I saw you look at me to-day, Lizzy, when my aunt told us of the present +report; and I know I appeared distressed; but don’t imagine it was from +any silly cause. I was only confused for the moment, because I felt that +I _should_ be looked at. I do assure you that the news does not affect +me either with pleasure or pain. I am glad of one thing, that he comes +alone; because we shall see the less of him. Not that I am afraid of +_myself_, but I dread other people’s remarks.” + +Elizabeth did not know what to make of it. Had she not seen him in +Derbyshire, she might have supposed him capable of coming there with no +other view than what was acknowledged; but she still thought him partial +to Jane, and she wavered as to the greater probability of his coming +there _with_ his friend’s permission, or being bold enough to come +without it. + +“Yet it is hard,” she sometimes thought, “that this poor man cannot come +to a house, which he has legally hired, without raising all this +speculation! I _will_ leave him to himself.” + +In spite of what her sister declared, and really believed to be her +feelings, in the expectation of his arrival, Elizabeth could easily +perceive that her spirits were affected by it. They were more disturbed, +more unequal, than she had often seen them. + +The subject which had been so warmly canvassed between their parents, +about a twelvemonth ago, was now brought forward again. + +“As soon as ever Mr. Bingley comes, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “you +will wait on him, of course.” + +“No, no. You forced me into visiting him last year, and promised, if I +went to see him, he should marry one of my daughters. But it ended in +nothing, and I will not be sent on a fool’s errand again.” + +His wife represented to him how absolutely necessary such an attention +would be from all the neighbouring gentlemen, on his returning to +Netherfield. + +“’Tis an _etiquette_ I despise,” said he. “If he wants our society, let +him seek it. He knows where we live. I will not spend _my_ hours in +running after my neighbours every time they go away and come back +again.” + +“Well, all I know is, that it will be abominably rude if you do not wait +on him. But, however, that shan’t prevent my asking him to dine here, I +am determined. We must have Mrs. Long and the Gouldings soon. That will +make thirteen with ourselves, so there will be just room at table for +him.” + +Consoled by this resolution, she was the better able to bear her +husband’s incivility; though it was very mortifying to know that her +neighbours might all see Mr. Bingley, in consequence of it, before +_they_ did. As the day of his arrival drew near,-- + +“I begin to be sorry that he comes at all,” said Jane to her sister. “It +would be nothing; I could see him with perfect indifference; but I can +hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually talked of. My mother means well; +but she does not know, no one can know, how much I suffer from what she +says. Happy shall I be when his stay at Netherfield is over!” + +“I wish I could say anything to comfort you,” replied Elizabeth; “but it +is wholly out of my power. You must feel it; and the usual satisfaction +of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied me, because you have +always so much.” + +Mr. Bingley arrived. Mrs. Bennet, through the assistance of servants, +contrived to have the earliest tidings of it, that the period of anxiety +and fretfulness on her side be as long as it could. She counted the days +that must intervene before their invitation could be sent--hopeless of +seeing him before. But on the third morning after his arrival in +Hertfordshire, she saw him from her dressing-room window enter the +paddock, and ride towards the house. + +Her daughters were eagerly called to partake of her joy. Jane resolutely +kept her place at the table; but Elizabeth, to satisfy her mother, went +to the window--she looked--she saw Mr. Darcy with him, and sat down +again by her sister. + +“There is a gentleman with him, mamma,” said Kitty; “who can it be?” + +“Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I do not +know.” + +“La!” replied Kitty, “it looks just like that man that used to be with +him before. Mr. what’s his name--that tall, proud man.” + +“Good gracious! Mr. Darcy!--and so it does, I vow. Well, any friend of +Mr. Bingley’s will always be welcome here, to be sure; but else I must +say that I hate the very sight of him.” + +Jane looked at Elizabeth with surprise and concern. She knew but little +of their meeting in Derbyshire, and therefore felt for the awkwardness +which must attend her sister, in seeing him almost for the first time +after receiving his explanatory letter. Both sisters were uncomfortable +enough. Each felt for the other, and of course for themselves; and their +mother talked on of her dislike of Mr. Darcy, and her resolution to be +civil to him only as Mr. Bingley’s friend, without being heard by either +of them. But Elizabeth had sources of uneasiness which could not yet be +suspected by Jane, to whom she had never yet had courage to show Mrs. +Gardiner’s letter, or to relate her own change of sentiment towards +him. To Jane, he could be only a man whose proposals she had refused, +and whose merits she had undervalued; but to her own more extensive +information, he was the person to whom the whole family were indebted +for the first of benefits, and whom she regarded herself with an +interest, if not quite so tender, at least as reasonable and just, as +what Jane felt for Bingley. Her astonishment at his coming--at his +coming to Netherfield, to Longbourn, and voluntarily seeking her again, +was almost equal to what she had known on first witnessing his altered +behaviour in Derbyshire. + +The colour which had been driven from her face returned for half a +minute with an additional glow, and a smile of delight added lustre to +her eyes, as she thought for that space of time that his affection and +wishes must still be unshaken; but she would not be secure. + +“Let me first see how he behaves,” said she; “it will then be early +enough for expectation.” + +She sat intently at work, striving to be composed, and without daring to +lift up her eyes, till anxious curiosity carried them to the face of her +sister as the servant was approaching the door. Jane looked a little +paler than usual, but more sedate than Elizabeth had expected. On the +gentlemen’s appearing, her colour increased; yet she received them with +tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any +symptom of resentment, or any unnecessary complaisance. + +Elizabeth said as little to either as civility would allow, and sat down +again to her work, with an eagerness which it did not often command. She +had ventured only one glance at Darcy. He looked serious as usual; and, +she thought, more as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, than as +she had seen him at Pemberley. But, perhaps, he could not in her +mother’s presence be what he was before her uncle and aunt. It was a +painful, but not an improbable, conjecture. + +Bingley she had likewise seen for an instant, and in that short period +saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. He was received by Mrs. +Bennet with a degree of civility which made her two daughters ashamed, +especially when contrasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness of +her courtesy and address of his friend. + +Elizabeth particularly, who knew that her mother owed to the latter the +preservation of her favourite daughter from irremediable infamy, was +hurt and distressed to a most painful degree by a distinction so ill +applied. + +Darcy, after inquiring of her how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did--a question +which she could not answer without confusion--said scarcely anything. He +was not seated by her: perhaps that was the reason of his silence; but +it had not been so in Derbyshire. There he had talked to her friends +when he could not to herself. But now several minutes elapsed, without +bringing the sound of his voice; and when occasionally, unable to resist +the impulse of curiosity, she raised her eyes to his face, she as often +found him looking at Jane as at herself, and frequently on no object but +the ground. More thoughtfulness and less anxiety to please, than when +they last met, were plainly expressed. She was disappointed, and angry +with herself for being so. + +“Could I expect it to be otherwise?” said she. “Yet why did he come?” + +She was in no humour for conversation with anyone but himself; and to +him she had hardly courage to speak. + +She inquired after his sister, but could do no more. + +“It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away,” said Mrs. Bennet. + +He readily agreed to it. + +“I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People _did_ say, +you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope +it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood +since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled: and one of my +own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have +seen it in the papers. It was in the ‘Times’ and the ‘Courier,’ I know; +though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, ‘Lately, +George Wickham, Esq., to Miss Lydia Bennet,’ without there being a +syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything. +It was my brother Gardiner’s drawing up, too, and I wonder how he came +to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?” + +Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations. Elizabeth +dared not lift up her eyes. How Mr. Darcy looked, therefore, she could +not tell. + +“It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married,” +continued her mother; “but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very +hard to have her taken away from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a +place quite northward it seems, and there they are to stay, I do not +know how long. His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of +his leaving the ----shire, and of his being gone into the Regulars. +Thank heaven! he has _some_ friends, though, perhaps, not so many as he +deserves.” + +Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr. Darcy, was in such misery +of shame that she could hardly keep her seat. It drew from her, however, +the exertion of speaking, which nothing else had so effectually done +before; and she asked Bingley whether he meant to make any stay in the +country at present. A few weeks, he believed. + +“When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley,” said her mother, +“I beg you will come here and shoot as many as you please on Mr. +Bennet’s manor. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and +will save all the best of the coveys for you.” + +Elizabeth’s misery increased at such unnecessary, such officious +attention! Were the same fair prospect to arise at present, as had +flattered them a year ago, everything, she was persuaded, would be +hastening to the same vexatious conclusion. At that instant she felt, +that years of happiness could not make Jane or herself amends for +moments of such painful confusion. + +“The first wish of my heart,” said she to herself, “is never more to be +in company with either of them. Their society can afford no pleasure +that will atone for such wretchedness as this! Let me never see either +one or the other again!” + +Yet the misery, for which years of happiness were to offer no +compensation, received soon afterwards material relief, from observing +how much the beauty of her sister rekindled the admiration of her former +lover. When first he came in, he had spoken to her but little, but every +five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his attention. He found her +as handsome as she had been last year; as good-natured, and as +unaffected, though not quite so chatty. Jane was anxious that no +difference should be perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded +that she talked as much as ever; but her mind was so busily engaged, +that she did not always know when she was silent. + +When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet was mindful of her +intended civility, and they were invited and engaged to dine at +Longbourn in a few days’ time. + +“You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley,” she added; “for when +you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with +us as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you +I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your +engagement.” + +Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of +his concern at having been prevented by business. They then went away. + +Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and dine +there that day; but, though she always kept a very good table, she did +not think anything less than two courses could be good enough for a man +on whom she had such anxious designs, or satisfy the appetite and pride +of one who had ten thousand a year. + + + + +[Illustration: + + “Jane happened to look round” +] + + + + +CHAPTER LIV. + + +[Illustration] + +As soon as they were gone, Elizabeth walked out to recover her spirits; +or, in other words, to dwell without interruption on those subjects +which must deaden them more. Mr. Darcy’s behaviour astonished and vexed +her. + +“Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent,” said she, +“did he come at all?” + +She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure. + +“He could be still amiable, still pleasing to my uncle and aunt, when he +was in town; and why not to me? If he fears me, why come hither? If he +no longer cares for me, why silent? Teasing, teasing man! I will think +no more about him.” + +Her resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept by the approach +of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful look which showed her +better satisfied with their visitors than Elizabeth. + +“Now,” said she, “that this first meeting is over, I feel perfectly +easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be embarrassed again by +his coming. I am glad he dines here on Tuesday. It will then be publicly +seen, that on both sides we meet only as common and indifferent +acquaintance.” + +“Yes, very indifferent, indeed,” said Elizabeth, laughingly. “Oh, Jane! +take care.” + +“My dear Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak as to be in danger now.” + +“I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with +you as ever.” + +They did not see the gentlemen again till Tuesday; and Mrs. Bennet, in +the meanwhile, was giving way to all the happy schemes which the +good-humour and common politeness of Bingley, in half an hour’s visit, +had revived. + +On Tuesday there was a large party assembled at Longbourn; and the two +who were most anxiously expected, to the credit of their punctuality as +sportsmen, were in very good time. When they repaired to the +dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to see whether Bingley would take +the place which, in all their former parties, had belonged to him, by +her sister. Her prudent mother, occupied by the same ideas, forbore to +invite him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he seemed to +hesitate; but Jane happened to look round, and happened to smile: it was +decided. He placed himself by her. + +Elizabeth, with a triumphant sensation, looked towards his friend. He +bore it with noble indifference; and she would have imagined that +Bingley had received his sanction to be happy, had she not seen his eyes +likewise turned towards Mr. Darcy, with an expression of half-laughing +alarm. + +His behaviour to her sister was such during dinnertime as showed an +admiration of her, which, though more guarded than formerly, persuaded +Elizabeth, that, if left wholly to himself, Jane’s happiness, and his +own, would be speedily secured. Though she dared not depend upon the +consequence, she yet received pleasure from observing his behaviour. It +gave her all the animation that her spirits could boast; for she was in +no cheerful humour. Mr. Darcy was almost as far from her as the table +could divide them. He was on one side of her mother. She knew how little +such a situation would give pleasure to either, or make either appear to +advantage. She was not near enough to hear any of their discourse; but +she could see how seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal and +cold was their manner whenever they did. Her mother’s ungraciousness +made the sense of what they owed him more painful to Elizabeth’s mind; +and she would, at times, have given anything to be privileged to tell +him, that his kindness was neither unknown nor unfelt by the whole of +the family. + +She was in hopes that the evening would afford some opportunity of +bringing them together; that the whole of the visit would not pass away +without enabling them to enter into something more of conversation, +than the mere ceremonious salutation attending his entrance. Anxious and +uneasy, the period which passed in the drawing-room before the gentlemen +came, was wearisome and dull to a degree that almost made her uncivil. +She looked forward to their entrance as the point on which all her +chance of pleasure for the evening must depend. + +“If he does not come to me, _then_,” said she, “I shall give him up for +ever.” + +The gentlemen came; and she thought he looked as if he would have +answered her hopes; but, alas! the ladies had crowded round the table, +where Miss Bennet was making tea, and Elizabeth pouring out the coffee, +in so close a confederacy, that there was not a single vacancy near her +which would admit of a chair. And on the gentlemen’s approaching, one of +the girls moved closer to her than ever, and said, in a whisper,-- + +“The men shan’t come and part us, I am determined. We want none of them; +do we?” + +Darcy had walked away to another part of the room. She followed him with +her eyes, envied everyone to whom he spoke, had scarcely patience enough +to help anybody to coffee, and then was enraged against herself for +being so silly! + +“A man who has once been refused! How could I ever be foolish enough to +expect a renewal of his love? Is there one among the sex who would not +protest against such a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman? +There is no indignity so abhorrent to their feelings.” + +She was a little revived, however, by his bringing back his coffee-cup +himself; and she seized the opportunity of saying,-- + +“Is your sister at Pemberley still?” + +“Yes; she will remain there till Christmas.” + +“And quite alone? Have all her friends left her?” + +“Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others have been gone on to Scarborough +these three weeks.” + +She could think of nothing more to say; but if he wished to converse +with her, he might have better success. He stood by her, however, for +some minutes, in silence; and, at last, on the young lady’s whispering +to Elizabeth again, he walked away. + +When the tea things were removed, and the card tables placed, the ladies +all rose; and Elizabeth was then hoping to be soon joined by him, when +all her views were overthrown, by seeing him fall a victim to her +mother’s rapacity for whist players, and in a few moments after seated +with the rest of the party. She now lost every expectation of pleasure. +They were confined for the evening at different tables; and she had +nothing to hope, but that his eyes were so often turned towards her side +of the room, as to make him play as unsuccessfully as herself. + +Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the two Netherfield gentlemen to +supper; but their carriage was, unluckily, ordered before any of the +others, and she had no opportunity of detaining them. + +“Well, girls,” said she, as soon as they were left to themselves, “what +say you to the day? I think everything has passed off uncommonly well, I +assure you. The dinner was as well dressed as any I ever saw. The +venison was roasted to a turn--and everybody said, they never saw so fat +a haunch. The soup was fifty times better than what we had at the +Lucases’ last week; and even Mr. Darcy acknowledged that the partridges +were remarkably well done; and I suppose he has two or three French +cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look in greater +beauty. Mrs. Long said so too, for I asked her whether you did not. And +what do you think she said besides? ‘Ah! Mrs. Bennet, we shall have her +at Netherfield at last!’ She did, indeed. I do think Mrs. Long is as +good a creature as ever lived--and her nieces are very pretty behaved +girls, and not at all handsome: I like them prodigiously.” + +[Illustration: + + “M^{rs}. Long and her nieces.” +] + +Mrs. Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits: she had seen enough of +Bingley’s behaviour to Jane to be convinced that she would get him at +last; and her expectations of advantage to her family, when in a happy +humour, were so far beyond reason, that she was quite disappointed at +not seeing him there again the next day, to make his proposals. + +“It has been a very agreeable day,” said Miss Bennet to Elizabeth. “The +party seemed so well selected, so suitable one with the other. I hope we +may often meet again.” + +Elizabeth smiled. + +“Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not suspect me. It mortifies me. I +assure you that I have now learnt to enjoy his conversation as an +agreeable and sensible young man without having a wish beyond it. I am +perfectly satisfied, from what his manners now are, that he never had +any design of engaging my affection. It is only that he is blessed with +greater sweetness of address, and a stronger desire of generally +pleasing, than any other man.” + +“You are very cruel,” said her sister, “you will not let me smile, and +are provoking me to it every moment.” + +“How hard it is in some cases to be believed! And how impossible in +others! But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I +acknowledge?” + +“That is a question which I hardly know how to answer. We all love to +instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth knowing. Forgive +me; and if you persist in indifference, do not make _me_ your +confidante.” + + + + +[Illustration: + + “Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak to you.” +] + + + + +CHAPTER LV. + + +[Illustration] + +A few days after this visit, Mr. Bingley called again, and alone. His +friend had left him that morning for London, but was to return home in +ten days’ time. He sat with them above an hour, and was in remarkably +good spirits. Mrs. Bennet invited him to dine with them; but, with many +expressions of concern, he confessed himself engaged elsewhere. + +“Next time you call,” said she, “I hope we shall be more lucky.” + +He should be particularly happy at any time, etc., etc.; and if she +would give him leave, would take an early opportunity of waiting on +them. + +“Can you come to-morrow?” + +Yes, he had no engagement at all for to-morrow; and her invitation was +accepted with alacrity. + +He came, and in such very good time, that the ladies were none of them +dressed. In ran Mrs. Bennet to her daughters’ room, in her +dressing-gown, and with her hair half finished, crying out,-- + +“My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is come--Mr. Bingley is +come. He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste. Here, Sarah, come to Miss +Bennet this moment, and help her on with her gown. Never mind Miss +Lizzy’s hair.” + +“We will be down as soon as we can,” said Jane; “but I dare say Kitty is +forwarder than either of us, for she went upstairs half an hour ago.” + +“Oh! hang Kitty! what has she to do with it? Come, be quick, be quick! +where is your sash, my dear?” + +But when her mother was gone, Jane would not be prevailed on to go down +without one of her sisters. + +The same anxiety to get them by themselves was visible again in the +evening. After tea, Mr. Bennet retired to the library, as was his +custom, and Mary went upstairs to her instrument. Two obstacles of the +five being thus removed, Mrs. Bennet sat looking and winking at +Elizabeth and Catherine for a considerable time, without making any +impression on them. Elizabeth would not observe her; and when at last +Kitty did, she very innocently said, “What is the matter, mamma? What do +you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?” + +“Nothing, child, nothing. I did not wink at you.” She then sat still +five minutes longer; but unable to waste such a precious occasion, she +suddenly got up, and saying to Kitty,-- + +“Come here, my love, I want to speak to you,” took her out of the room. +Jane instantly gave a look at Elizabeth which spoke her distress at such +premeditation, and her entreaty that _she_ would not give in to it. In a +few minutes, Mrs. Bennet half opened the door and called out,-- + +“Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you.” + +Elizabeth was forced to go. + +“We may as well leave them by themselves, you know,” said her mother as +soon as she was in the hall. “Kitty and I are going upstairs to sit in +my dressing-room.” + +Elizabeth made no attempt to reason with her mother, but remained +quietly in the hall till she and Kitty were out of sight, then returned +into the drawing-room. + +Mrs. Bennet’s schemes for this day were ineffectual. Bingley was +everything that was charming, except the professed lover of her +daughter. His ease and cheerfulness rendered him a most agreeable +addition to their evening party; and he bore with the ill-judged +officiousness of the mother, and heard all her silly remarks with a +forbearance and command of countenance particularly grateful to the +daughter. + +He scarcely needed an invitation to stay supper; and before he went away +an engagement was formed, chiefly through his own and Mrs. Bennet’s +means, for his coming next morning to shoot with her husband. + +After this day, Jane said no more of her indifference. Not a word passed +between the sisters concerning Bingley; but Elizabeth went to bed in the +happy belief that all must speedily be concluded, unless Mr. Darcy +returned within the stated time. Seriously, however, she felt tolerably +persuaded that all this must have taken place with that gentleman’s +concurrence. + +Bingley was punctual to his appointment; and he and Mr. Bennet spent the +morning together, as had been agreed on. The latter was much more +agreeable than his companion expected. There was nothing of presumption +or folly in Bingley that could provoke his ridicule, or disgust him into +silence; and he was more communicative, and less eccentric, than the +other had ever seen him. Bingley of course returned with him to dinner; +and in the evening Mrs. Bennet’s invention was again at work to get +everybody away from him and her daughter. Elizabeth, who had a letter to +write, went into the breakfast-room for that purpose soon after tea; for +as the others were all going to sit down to cards, she could not be +wanted to counteract her mother’s schemes. + +But on her returning to the drawing-room, when her letter was finished, +she saw, to her infinite surprise, there was reason to fear that her +mother had been too ingenious for her. On opening the door, she +perceived her sister and Bingley standing together over the hearth, as +if engaged in earnest conversation; and had this led to no suspicion, +the faces of both, as they hastily turned round and moved away from each +other, would have told it all. _Their_ situation was awkward enough; but +_hers_ she thought was still worse. Not a syllable was uttered by +either; and Elizabeth was on the point of going away again, when +Bingley, who as well as the other had sat down, suddenly rose, and, +whispering a few words to her sister, ran out of the room. + +Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth, where confidence would give +pleasure; and, instantly embracing her, acknowledged, with the liveliest +emotion, that she was the happiest creature in the world. + +“’Tis too much!” she added, “by far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh, +why is not everybody as happy?” + +Elizabeth’s congratulations were given with a sincerity, a warmth, a +delight, which words could but poorly express. Every sentence of +kindness was a fresh source of happiness to Jane. But she would not +allow herself to stay with her sister, or say half that remained to be +said, for the present. + +“I must go instantly to my mother,” she cried. “I would not on any +account trifle with her affectionate solicitude, or allow her to hear it +from anyone but myself. He is gone to my father already. Oh, Lizzy, to +know that what I have to relate will give such pleasure to all my dear +family! how shall I bear so much happiness?” + +She then hastened away to her mother, who had purposely broken up the +card-party, and was sitting upstairs with Kitty. + +Elizabeth, who was left by herself, now smiled at the rapidity and ease +with which an affair was finally settled, that had given them so many +previous months of suspense and vexation. + +“And this,” said she, “is the end of all his friend’s anxious +circumspection! of all his sister’s falsehood and contrivance! the +happiest, wisest, and most reasonable end!” + +In a few minutes she was joined by Bingley, whose conference with her +father had been short and to the purpose. + +“Where is your sister?” said he hastily, as he opened the door. + +“With my mother upstairs. She will be down in a moment, I dare say.” + +He then shut the door, and, coming up to her, claimed the good wishes +and affection of a sister. Elizabeth honestly and heartily expressed her +delight in the prospect of their relationship. They shook hands with +great cordiality; and then, till her sister came down, she had to listen +to all he had to say of his own happiness, and of Jane’s perfections; +and in spite of his being a lover, Elizabeth really believed all his +expectations of felicity to be rationally founded, because they had for +basis the excellent understanding and super-excellent disposition of +Jane, and a general similarity of feeling and taste between her and +himself. + +It was an evening of no common delight to them all; the satisfaction of +Miss Bennet’s mind gave such a glow of sweet animation to her face, as +made her look handsomer than ever. Kitty simpered and smiled, and hoped +her turn was coming soon. Mrs. Bennet could not give her consent, or +speak her approbation in terms warm enough to satisfy her feelings, +though she talked to Bingley of nothing else, for half an hour; and when +Mr. Bennet joined them at supper, his voice and manner plainly showed +how really happy he was. + +Not a word, however, passed his lips in allusion to it, till their +visitor took his leave for the night; but as soon as he was gone, he +turned to his daughter and said,-- + +“Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman.” + +Jane went to him instantly, kissed him, and thanked him for his +goodness. + +“You are a good girl,” he replied, “and I have great pleasure in +thinking you will be so happily settled. I have not a doubt of your +doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means unlike. You are +each of you so complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so +easy, that every servant will cheat you; and so generous, that you will +always exceed your income.” + +“I hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness in money matters would be +unpardonable in _me_.” + +“Exceed their income! My dear Mr. Bennet,” cried his wife, “what are you +talking of? Why, he has four or five thousand a year, and very likely +more.” Then addressing her daughter, “Oh, my dear, dear Jane, I am so +happy! I am sure I shan’t get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it +would be. I always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not +be so beautiful for nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw him, when +he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought how likely it was +that you should come together. Oh, he is the handsomest young man that +ever was seen!” + +Wickham, Lydia, were all forgotten. Jane was beyond competition her +favourite child. At that moment she cared for no other. Her younger +sisters soon began to make interest with her for objects of happiness +which she might in future be able to dispense. + +Mary petitioned for the use of the library at Netherfield; and Kitty +begged very hard for a few balls there every winter. + +Bingley, from this time, was of course a daily visitor at Longbourn; +coming frequently before breakfast, and always remaining till after +supper; unless when some barbarous neighbour, who could not be enough +detested, had given him an invitation to dinner, which he thought +himself obliged to accept. + +Elizabeth had now but little time for conversation with her sister; for +while he was present Jane had no attention to bestow on anyone else: but +she found herself considerably useful to both of them, in those hours of +separation that must sometimes occur. In the absence of Jane, he always +attached himself to Elizabeth for the pleasure of talking of her; and +when Bingley was gone, Jane constantly sought the same means of relief. + +“He has made me so happy,” said she, one evening, “by telling me that he +was totally ignorant of my being in town last spring! I had not believed +it possible.” + +“I suspected as much,” replied Elizabeth. “But how did he account for +it?” + +“It must have been his sisters’ doing. They were certainly no friends to +his acquaintance with me, which I cannot wonder at, since he might have +chosen so much more advantageously in many respects. But when they see, +as I trust they will, that their brother is happy with me, they will +learn to be contented, and we shall be on good terms again: though we +can never be what we once were to each other.” + +“That is the most unforgiving speech,” said Elizabeth, “that I ever +heard you utter. Good girl! It would vex me, indeed, to see you again +the dupe of Miss Bingley’s pretended regard.” + +“Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to town last November he +really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of _my_ being indifferent +would have prevented his coming down again?” + +“He made a little mistake, to be sure; but it is to the credit of his +modesty.” + +This naturally introduced a panegyric from Jane on his diffidence, and +the little value he put on his own good qualities. + +Elizabeth was pleased to find that he had not betrayed the interference +of his friend; for, though Jane had the most generous and forgiving +heart in the world, she knew it was a circumstance which must prejudice +her against him. + +“I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!” cried +Jane. “Oh, Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family, and blessed +above them all? If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such +another man for you!” + +“If you were to give me forty such men I never could be so happy as you. +Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your +happiness. No, no, let me shift for myself; and, perhaps, if I have very +good luck, I may meet with another Mr. Collins in time.” + +The situation of affairs in the Longbourn family could not be long a +secret. Mrs. Bennet was privileged to whisper it to Mrs. Philips, and +she ventured, without any permission, to do the same by all her +neighbours in Meryton. + +The Bennets were speedily pronounced to be the luckiest family in the +world; though only a few weeks before, when Lydia had first run away, +they had been generally proved to be marked out for misfortune. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER LVI. + + +[Illustration] + +One morning, about a week after Bingley’s engagement with Jane had been +formed, as he and the females of the family were sitting together in the +dining-room, their attention was suddenly drawn to the window by the +sound of a carriage; and they perceived a chaise and four driving up the +lawn. It was too early in the morning for visitors; and besides, the +equipage did not answer to that of any of their neighbours. The horses +were post; and neither the carriage, nor the livery of the servant who +preceded it, were familiar to them. As it was certain, however, that +somebody was coming, Bingley instantly prevailed on Miss Bennet to avoid +the confinement of such an intrusion, and walk away with him into the +shrubbery. They both set off; and the conjectures of the remaining three +continued, though with little satisfaction, till the door was thrown +open, and their visitor entered. It was Lady Catherine de Bourgh. + +They were of course all intending to be surprised: but their +astonishment was beyond their expectation; and on the part of Mrs. +Bennet and Kitty, though she was perfectly unknown to them, even +inferior to what Elizabeth felt. + +She entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious, made no +other reply to Elizabeth’s salutation than a slight inclination of the +head, and sat down without saying a word. Elizabeth had mentioned her +name to her mother on her Ladyship’s entrance, though no request of +introduction had been made. + +Mrs. Bennet, all amazement, though flattered by having a guest of such +high importance, received her with the utmost politeness. After sitting +for a moment in silence, she said, very stiffly, to Elizabeth,-- + +“I hope you are well, Miss Bennet. That lady, I suppose, is your +mother?” + +Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was. + +“And _that_, I suppose, is one of your sisters?” + +“Yes, madam,” said Mrs. Bennet, delighted to speak to a Lady Catherine. +“She is my youngest girl but one. My youngest of all is lately married, +and my eldest is somewhere about the ground, walking with a young man, +who, I believe, will soon become a part of the family.” + +“You have a very small park here,” returned Lady Catherine, after a +short silence. + +“It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my Lady, I dare say; but, I +assure you, it is much larger than Sir William Lucas’s.” + +“This must be a most inconvenient sitting-room for the evening in +summer: the windows are full west.” + +Mrs. Bennet assured her that they never sat there after dinner; and then +added,-- + +“May I take the liberty of asking your Ladyship whether you left Mr. and +Mrs. Collins well?” + +“Yes, very well. I saw them the night before last.” + +Elizabeth now expected that she would produce a letter for her from +Charlotte, as it seemed the only probable motive for her calling. But no +letter appeared, and she was completely puzzled. + +Mrs. Bennet, with great civility, begged her Ladyship to take some +refreshment: but Lady Catherine very resolutely, and not very politely, +declined eating anything; and then, rising up, said to Elizabeth,-- + +“Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little wilderness +on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you +will favour me with your company.” + +“Go, my dear,” cried her mother, “and show her Ladyship about the +different walks. I think she will be pleased with the hermitage.” + +Elizabeth obeyed; and, running into her own room for her parasol, +attended her noble guest downstairs. As they passed through the hall, +Lady Catherine opened the doors into the dining-parlour and +drawing-room, and pronouncing them, after a short survey, to be +decent-looking rooms, walked on. + +Her carriage remained at the door, and Elizabeth saw that her +waiting-woman was in it. They proceeded in silence along the gravel walk +that led to the copse; Elizabeth was determined to make no effort for +conversation with a woman who was now more than usually insolent and +disagreeable. + +[Illustration: + +“After a short survey” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + +“How could I ever think her like her nephew?” said she, as she looked in +her face. + +As soon as they entered the copse, Lady Catherine began in the following +manner:-- + +“You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my +journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I +come.” + +Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment. + +“Indeed, you are mistaken, madam; I have not been at all able to account +for the honour of seeing you here.” + +“Miss Bennet,” replied her Ladyship, in an angry tone, “you ought to +know that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere _you_ may +choose to be, you shall not find _me_ so. My character has ever been +celebrated for its sincerity and frankness; and in a cause of such +moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most +alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told, that not only your +sister was on the point of being most advantageously married, but that +_you_--that Miss Elizabeth Bennet would, in all likelihood, be soon +afterwards united to my nephew--my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I +_know_ it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him +so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on +setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to +you.” + +“If you believed it impossible to be true,” said Elizabeth, colouring +with astonishment and disdain, “I wonder you took the trouble of coming +so far. What could your Ladyship propose by it?” + +“At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted.” + +“Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family,” said Elizabeth +coolly, “will be rather a confirmation of it--if, indeed, such a report +is in existence.” + +“If! do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been +industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a +report is spread abroad?” + +“I never heard that it was.” + +“And can you likewise declare, that there is no _foundation_ for it?” + +“I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your Ladyship. _You_ +may ask questions which _I_ shall not choose to answer.” + +“This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Has +he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?” + +“Your Ladyship has declared it to be impossible.” + +“It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his +reason. But _your_ arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, +have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You +may have drawn him in.” + +“If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.” + +“Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such +language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world, +and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.” + +“But you are not entitled to know _mine_; nor will such behaviour as +this ever induce me to be explicit.” + +“Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the +presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is +engaged to _my daughter_. Now, what have you to say?” + +“Only this,--that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will +make an offer to me.” + +Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then replied,-- + +“The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy, +they have been intended for each other. It was the favourite wish of +_his_ mother, as well as of hers. While in their cradles we planned the +union; and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be +accomplished, is their marriage to be prevented by a young woman of +inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to +the family? Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends--to his +tacit engagement with Miss de Bourgh? Are you lost to every feeling of +propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say, that from his +earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?” + +“Yes; and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no +other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be +kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry +Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the +marriage. Its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by +honour nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make +another choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?” + +“Because honour, decorum, prudence--nay, interest--forbid it. Yes, Miss +Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by his family or +friends, if you wilfully act against the inclinations of all. You will +be censured, slighted, and despised, by everyone connected with him. +Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned +by any of us.” + +“These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Elizabeth. “But the wife of Mr. +Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily +attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause +to repine.” + +“Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude +for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that +score? Let us sit down. You are to understand, Miss Bennet, that I came +here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I +be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person’s +whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.” + +“_That_ will make your Ladyship’s situation at present more pitiable; +but it will have no effect on _me_.” + +“I will not be interrupted! Hear me in silence. My daughter and my +nephew are formed for each other. They are descended, on the maternal +side, from the same noble line; and, on the father’s, from respectable, +honourable, and ancient, though untitled, families. Their fortune on +both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other by the voice of +every member of their respective houses; and what is to divide +them?--the upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, +connections, or fortune! Is this to be endured? But it must not, shall +not be! If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to +quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.” + +“In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that +sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman’s daughter; so far we are +equal.” + +“True. You _are_ a gentleman’s daughter. But what was your mother? Who +are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their +condition.” + +“Whatever my connections may be,” said Elizabeth, “if your nephew does +not object to them, they can be nothing to _you_.” + +“Tell me, once for all, are you engaged to him?” + +Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere purpose of obliging Lady +Catherine, have answered this question, she could not but say, after a +moment’s deliberation,-- + +“I am not.” + +Lady Catherine seemed pleased. + +“And will you promise me never to enter into such an engagement?” + +“I will make no promise of the kind.” + +“Miss Bennet, I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more +reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I +will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given me the +assurance I require.” + +“And I certainly _never_ shall give it. I am not to be intimidated into +anything so wholly unreasonable. Your Ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to marry +your daughter; but would my giving you the wished-for promise make +_their_ marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be attached to +me, would _my_ refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on +his cousin? Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with +which you have supported this extraordinary application have been as +frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my +character, if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these. +How far your nephew might approve of your interference in _his_ affairs, +I cannot tell; but you have certainly no right to concern yourself in +mine. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no further on the +subject.” + +“Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done. To all the +objections I have already urged I have still another to add. I am no +stranger to the particulars of your youngest sister’s infamous +elopement. I know it all; that the young man’s marrying her was a +patched-up business, at the expense of your father and uncle. And is +_such_ a girl to be my nephew’s sister? Is _her_ husband, who is the son +of his late father’s steward, to be his brother? Heaven and earth!--of +what are you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?” + +“You can _now_ have nothing further to say,” she resentfully answered. +“You have insulted me, in every possible method. I must beg to return to +the house.” + +And she rose as she spoke. Lady Catherine rose also, and they turned +back. Her Ladyship was highly incensed. + +“You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my nephew! +Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that a connection with you +must disgrace him in the eyes of everybody?” + +“Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say. You know my sentiments.” + +“You are then resolved to have him?” + +“I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that manner, +which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without +reference to _you_, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.” + +“It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to obey the +claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin him in +the opinion of all his friends, and make him the contempt of the world.” + +“Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude,” replied Elizabeth, “has any +possible claim on me, in the present instance. No principle of either +would be violated by my marriage with Mr. Darcy. And with regard to the +resentment of his family, or the indignation of the world, if the former +_were_ excited by his marrying me, it would not give me one moment’s +concern--and the world in general would have too much sense to join in +the scorn.” + +“And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well. I +shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss Bennet, that your +ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped to find you +reasonable; but depend upon it I will carry my point.” + +In this manner Lady Catherine talked on till they were at the door of +the carriage, when, turning hastily round, she added,-- + +“I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet. I send no compliments to your +mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.” + +Elizabeth made no answer; and without attempting to persuade her +Ladyship to return into the house, walked quietly into it herself. She +heard the carriage drive away as she proceeded upstairs. Her mother +impatiently met her at the door of her dressing-room, to ask why Lady +Catherine would not come in again and rest herself. + +“She did not choose it,” said her daughter; “she would go.” + +“She is a very fine-looking woman! and her calling here was prodigiously +civil! for she only came, I suppose, to tell us the Collinses were well. +She is on her road somewhere, I dare say; and so, passing through +Meryton, thought she might as well call on you. I suppose she had +nothing particular to say to you, Lizzy?” + +Elizabeth was forced to give in to a little falsehood here; for to +acknowledge the substance of their conversation was impossible. + + + + +[Illustration: + + “But now it comes out” +] + + + + +CHAPTER LVII. + + +[Illustration] + +The discomposure of spirits which this extraordinary visit threw +Elizabeth into could not be easily overcome; nor could she for many +hours learn to think of it less than incessantly. Lady Catherine, it +appeared, had actually taken the trouble of this journey from Rosings +for the sole purpose of breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr. +Darcy. It was a rational scheme, to be sure! but from what the report of +their engagement could originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to imagine; +till she recollected that _his_ being the intimate friend of Bingley, +and _her_ being the sister of Jane, was enough, at a time when the +expectation of one wedding made everybody eager for another, to supply +the idea. She had not herself forgotten to feel that the marriage of her +sister must bring them more frequently together. And her neighbours at +Lucas Lodge, therefore, (for through their communication with the +Collinses, the report, she concluded, had reached Lady Catherine,) had +only set _that_ down as almost certain and immediate which _she_ had +looked forward to as possible at some future time. + +In revolving Lady Catherine’s expressions, however, she could not help +feeling some uneasiness as to the possible consequence of her persisting +in this interference. From what she had said of her resolution to +prevent the marriage, it occurred to Elizabeth that she must meditate an +application to her nephew; and how he might take a similar +representation of the evils attached to a connection with her she dared +not pronounce. She knew not the exact degree of his affection for his +aunt, or his dependence on her judgment, but it was natural to suppose +that he thought much higher of her Ladyship than _she_ could do; and it +was certain, that in enumerating the miseries of a marriage with _one_ +whose immediate connections were so unequal to his own, his aunt would +address him on his weakest side. With his notions of dignity, he would +probably feel that the arguments, which to Elizabeth had appeared weak +and ridiculous, contained much good sense and solid reasoning. + +If he had been wavering before, as to what he should do, which had often +seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so near a relation might +settle every doubt, and determine him at once to be as happy as dignity +unblemished could make him. In that case he would return no more. Lady +Catherine might see him in her way through town; and his engagement to +Bingley of coming again to Netherfield must give way. + +“If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his promise should come to his +friend within a few days,” she added, “I shall know how to understand +it. I shall then give over every expectation, every wish of his +constancy. If he is satisfied with only regretting me, when he might +have obtained my affections and hand, I shall soon cease to regret him +at all.” + +The surprise of the rest of the family, on hearing who their visitor had +been, was very great: but they obligingly satisfied it with the same +kind of supposition which had appeased Mrs. Bennet’s curiosity; and +Elizabeth was spared from much teasing on the subject. + +The next morning, as she was going down stairs, she was met by her +father, who came out of his library with a letter in his hand. + +“Lizzy,” said he, “I was going to look for you: come into my room.” + +She followed him thither; and her curiosity to know what he had to tell +her was heightened by the supposition of its being in some manner +connected with the letter he held. It suddenly struck her that it might +be from Lady Catherine, and she anticipated with dismay all the +consequent explanations. + +She followed her father to the fireplace, and they both sat down. He +then said,-- + +“I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me +exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought to know its +contents. I did not know before that I had _two_ daughters on the brink +of matrimony. Let me congratulate you on a very important conquest.” + +The colour now rushed into Elizabeth’s cheeks in the instantaneous +conviction of its being a letter from the nephew, instead of the aunt; +and she was undetermined whether most to be pleased that he explained +himself at all, or offended that his letter was not rather addressed to +herself, when her father continued,-- + +“You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration in such matters +as these; but I think I may defy even _your_ sagacity to discover the +name of your admirer. This letter is from Mr. Collins.” + +“From Mr. Collins! and what can _he_ have to say?” + +“Something very much to the purpose, of course. He begins with +congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter, of +which, it seems, he has been told by some of the good-natured, gossiping +Lucases. I shall not sport with your impatience by reading what he says +on that point. What relates to yourself is as follows:--‘Having thus +offered you the sincere congratulations of Mrs. Collins and myself on +this happy event, let me now add a short hint on the subject of another, +of which we have been advertised by the same authority. Your daughter +Elizabeth, it is presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after +her eldest sister has resigned it; and the chosen partner of her fate +may be reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages +in this land.’ Can you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant by this? +‘This young gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar way, with everything the +heart of mortal can most desire,--splendid property, noble kindred, and +extensive patronage. Yet, in spite of all these temptations, let me warn +my cousin Elizabeth, and yourself, of what evils you may incur by a +precipitate closure with this gentleman’s proposals, which, of course, +you will be inclined to take immediate advantage of.’ Have you any idea, +Lizzy, who this gentleman is? But now it comes out. ‘My motive for +cautioning you is as follows:--We have reason to imagine that his aunt, +Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look on the match with a friendly +eye.’ _Mr. Darcy_, you see, is the man! Now, Lizzy, I think I _have_ +surprised you. Could he, or the Lucases, have pitched on any man, within +the circle of our acquaintance, whose name would have given the lie more +effectually to what they related? Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any +woman but to see a blemish, and who probably never looked at _you_ in +his life! It is admirable!” + +Elizabeth tried to join in her father’s pleasantry, but could only force +one most reluctant smile. Never had his wit been directed in a manner so +little agreeable to her. + +“Are you not diverted?” + +“Oh, yes. Pray read on.” + +“‘After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her Ladyship last +night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she +felt on the occasion; when it became apparent, that, on the score of +some family objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give +her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. I thought it my +duty to give the speediest intelligence of this to my cousin, that she +and her noble admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run +hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned.’ Mr. +Collins, moreover, adds, ‘I am truly rejoiced that my cousin Lydia’s sad +business has been so well hushed up, and am only concerned that their +living together before the marriage took place should be so generally +known. I must not, however, neglect the duties of my station, or refrain +from declaring my amazement, at hearing that you received the young +couple into your house as soon as they were married. It was an +encouragement of vice; and had I been the rector of Longbourn, I should +very strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them as +a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their +names to be mentioned in your hearing.’ _That_ is his notion of +Christian forgiveness! The rest of his letter is only about his dear +Charlotte’s situation, and his expectation of a young olive-branch. But, +Lizzy, you look as if you did not enjoy it. You are not going to be +_missish_, I hope, and pretend to be affronted at an idle report. For +what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them +in our turn?” + +“Oh,” cried Elizabeth, “I am exceedingly diverted. But it is so +strange!” + +“Yes, _that_ is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed on any other man +it would have been nothing; but _his_ perfect indifference and _your_ +pointed dislike make it so delightfully absurd! Much as I abominate +writing, I would not give up Mr. Collins’s correspondence for any +consideration. Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot help giving +him the preference even over Wickham, much as I value the impudence and +hypocrisy of my son-in-law. And pray, Lizzy, what said Lady Catherine +about this report? Did she call to refuse her consent?” + +To this question his daughter replied only with a laugh; and as it had +been asked without the least suspicion, she was not distressed by his +repeating it. Elizabeth had never been more at a loss to make her +feelings appear what they were not. It was necessary to laugh when she +would rather have cried. Her father had most cruelly mortified her by +what he said of Mr. Darcy’s indifference; and she could do nothing but +wonder at such a want of penetration, or fear that, perhaps, instead of +his seeing too _little_, she might have fancied too _much_. + + + + +[Illustration: + +“The efforts of his aunt” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +CHAPTER LVIII. + + +[Illustration] + +Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse from his friend, as +Elizabeth half expected Mr. Bingley to do, he was able to bring Darcy +with him to Longbourn before many days had passed after Lady Catherine’s +visit. The gentlemen arrived early; and, before Mrs. Bennet had time to +tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in +momentary dread, Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed +their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in the +habit of walking, Mary could never spare time, but the remaining five +set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others to +outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy +were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either; Kitty was +too much afraid of him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly forming a +desperate resolution; and, perhaps, he might be doing the same. + +They walked towards the Lucases’, because Kitty wished to call upon +Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a general concern, +when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the +moment for her resolution to be executed; and while her courage was +high, she immediately said,-- + +“Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, and for the sake of giving +relief to my own feelings care not how much I may be wounding yours. I +can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor +sister. Ever since I have known it I have been most anxious to +acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest +of my family I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.” + +“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise +and emotion, “that you have ever been informed of what may, in a +mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner +was so little to be trusted.” + +“You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness first betrayed to +me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could +not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, +in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced +you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the +sake of discovering them.” + +“If you _will_ thank me,” he replied, “let it be for yourself alone. +That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other +inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your +_family_ owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought +only of _you_.” + +Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause, +her companion added, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your +feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. _My_ +affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence +me on this subject for ever.” + +Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of +his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not +very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone +so material a change since the period to which he alluded, as to make +her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The +happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never +felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as +warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth +been able to encounter his eyes, she might have seen how well the +expression of heartfelt delight diffused over his face became him: but +though she could not look she could listen; and he told her of feelings +which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection +every moment more valuable. + +They walked on without knowing in what direction. There was too much to +be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. She +soon learnt that they were indebted for their present good understanding +to the efforts of his aunt, who _did_ call on him in her return through +London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the +substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on +every expression of the latter, which, in her Ladyship’s apprehension, +peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance, in the belief that +such a relation must assist her endeavours to obtain that promise from +her nephew which _she_ had refused to give. But, unluckily for her +Ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise. + +“It taught me to hope,” said he, “as I had scarcely ever allowed myself +to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain, that +had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have +acknowledged it to Lady Catherine frankly and openly.” + +Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, “Yes, you know enough of +my _frankness_ to believe me capable of _that_. After abusing you so +abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all +your relations.” + +“What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For though your +accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour +to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was +unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.” + +“We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that +evening,” said Elizabeth. “The conduct of neither, if strictly +examined, will be irreproachable; but since then we have both, I hope, +improved in civility.” + +“I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I +then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of +it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your +reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘Had you behaved in a +more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can +scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me; though it was some time, I +confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice.” + +“I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an +impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such +a way.” + +“I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper +feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never +forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible +way that would induce you to accept me.” + +“Oh, do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at +all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it.” + +Darcy mentioned his letter. “Did it,” said he,--“did it _soon_ make you +think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its +contents?” + +She explained what its effects on her had been, and how gradually all +her former prejudices had been removed. + +“I knew,” said he, “that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was +necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part, +especially the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power +of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly +make you hate me.” + +“The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it essential to the +preservation of my regard; but, though we have both reason to think my +opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily +changed as that implies.” + +“When I wrote that letter,” replied Darcy, “I believed myself perfectly +calm and cool; but I am since convinced that it was written in a +dreadful bitterness of spirit.” + +“The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The +adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings +of the person who wrote and the person who received it are now so widely +different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance +attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my +philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you +pleasure.” + +“I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. _Your_ +retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment +arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of +ignorance. But with _me_, it is not so. Painful recollections will +intrude, which cannot, which ought not to be repelled. I have been a +selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a +child I was taught what was _right_, but I was not taught to correct my +temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride +and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only _child_), +I was spoiled by my parents, who, though good themselves, (my father +particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable,) allowed, encouraged, +almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond +my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to +_wish_ at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with +my own. Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might +still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not +owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most +advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a +doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my +pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.” + +“Had you then persuaded yourself that I should?” + +“Indeed I had. What will you think of my vanity? I believed you to be +wishing, expecting my addresses.” + +“My manners must have been in fault, but not intentionally, I assure +you. I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits might often lead me +wrong. How you must have hated me after _that_ evening!” + +“Hate you! I was angry, perhaps, at first, but my anger soon began to +take a proper direction.” + +“I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me when we met at +Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?” + +“No, indeed, I felt nothing but surprise.” + +“Your surprise could not be greater than _mine_ in being noticed by you. +My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I +confess that I did not expect to receive _more_ than my due.” + +“My object _then_,” replied Darcy, “was to show you, by every civility +in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped +to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you +see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes +introduced themselves, I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half +an hour after I had seen you.” + +He then told her of Georgiana’s delight in her acquaintance, and of her +disappointment at its sudden interruption; which naturally leading to +the cause of that interruption, she soon learnt that his resolution of +following her from Derbyshire in quest of her sister had been formed +before he quitted the inn, and that his gravity and thoughtfulness there +had arisen from no other struggles than what such a purpose must +comprehend. + +She expressed her gratitude again, but it was too painful a subject to +each to be dwelt on farther. + +After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy to know +anything about it, they found at last, on examining their watches, that +it was time to be at home. + +“What could have become of Mr. Bingley and Jane?” was a wonder which +introduced the discussion of _their_ affairs. Darcy was delighted with +their engagement; his friend had given him the earliest information of +it. + +“I must ask whether you were surprised?” said Elizabeth. + +“Not at all. When I went away, I felt that it would soon happen.” + +“That is to say, you had given your permission. I guessed as much.” And +though he exclaimed at the term, she found that it had been pretty much +the case. + +“On the evening before my going to London,” said he, “I made a +confession to him, which I believe I ought to have made long ago. I told +him of all that had occurred to make my former interference in his +affairs absurd and impertinent. His surprise was great. He had never had +the slightest suspicion. I told him, moreover, that I believed myself +mistaken in supposing, as I had done, that your sister was indifferent +to him; and as I could easily perceive that his attachment to her was +unabated, I felt no doubt of their happiness together.” + +Elizabeth could not help smiling at his easy manner of directing his +friend. + +“Did you speak from your own observation,” said she, “when you told him +that my sister loved him, or merely from my information last spring?” + +“From the former. I had narrowly observed her, during the two visits +which I had lately made her here; and I was convinced of her affection.” + +“And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried immediate conviction to +him.” + +“It did. Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. His diffidence had +prevented his depending on his own judgment in so anxious a case, but +his reliance on mine made everything easy. I was obliged to confess one +thing, which for a time, and not unjustly, offended him. I could not +allow myself to conceal that your sister had been in town three months +last winter, that I had known it, and purposely kept it from him. He was +angry. But his anger, I am persuaded, lasted no longer than he remained +in any doubt of your sister’s sentiments. He has heartily forgiven me +now.” + +Elizabeth longed to observe that Mr. Bingley had been a most delightful +friend; so easily guided that his worth was invaluable; but she checked +herself. She remembered that he had yet to learn to be laughed at, and +it was rather too early to begin. In anticipating the happiness of +Bingley, which of course was to be inferior only to his own, he +continued the conversation till they reached the house. In the hall they +parted. + + + + +[Illustration: + + “Unable to utter a syllable” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +CHAPTER LIX. + + +[Illustration] + +“My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to?” was a question +which Elizabeth received from Jane as soon as she entered the room, and +from all the others when they sat down to table. She had only to say in +reply, that they had wandered about till she was beyond her own +knowledge. She coloured as she spoke; but neither that, nor anything +else, awakened a suspicion of the truth. + +The evening passed quietly, unmarked by anything extraordinary. The +acknowledged lovers talked and laughed; the unacknowledged were silent. +Darcy was not of a disposition in which happiness overflows in mirth; +and Elizabeth, agitated and confused, rather _knew_ that she was happy +than _felt_ herself to be so; for, besides the immediate embarrassment, +there were other evils before her. She anticipated what would be felt in +the family when her situation became known: she was aware that no one +liked him but Jane; and even feared that with the others it was a +_dislike_ which not all his fortune and consequence might do away. + +At night she opened her heart to Jane. Though suspicion was very far +from Miss Bennet’s general habits, she was absolutely incredulous here. + +“You are joking, Lizzy. This cannot be! Engaged to Mr. Darcy! No, no, +you shall not deceive me: I know it to be impossible.” + +“This is a wretched beginning, indeed! My sole dependence was on you; +and I am sure nobody else will believe me, if you do not. Yet, indeed, I +am in earnest. I speak nothing but the truth. He still loves me, and we +are engaged.” + +Jane looked at her doubtingly. “Oh, Lizzy! it cannot be. I know how much +you dislike him.” + +“You know nothing of the matter. _That_ is all to be forgot. Perhaps I +did not always love him so well as I do now; but in such cases as these +a good memory is unpardonable. This is the last time I shall ever +remember it myself.” + +Miss Bennet still looked all amazement. Elizabeth again, and more +seriously, assured her of its truth. + +“Good heaven! can it be really so? Yet now I must believe you,” cried +Jane. “My dear, dear Lizzy, I would, I do congratulate you; but are you +certain--forgive the question--are you quite certain that you can be +happy with him?” + +“There can be no doubt of that. It is settled between us already that we +are to be the happiest couple in the world. But are you pleased, Jane? +Shall you like to have such a brother?” + +“Very, very much. Nothing could give either Bingley or myself more +delight. But we considered it, we talked of it as impossible. And do you +really love him quite well enough? Oh, Lizzy! do anything rather than +marry without affection. Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought +to do?” + +“Oh, yes! You will only think I feel _more_ than I ought to do when I +tell you all.” + +“What do you mean?” + +“Why, I must confess that I love him better than I do Bingley. I am +afraid you will be angry.” + +“My dearest sister, now be, _be_ serious. I want to talk very seriously. +Let me know everything that I am to know without delay. Will you tell me +how long you have loved him?” + +“It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began; +but I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds +at Pemberley.” + +Another entreaty that she would be serious, however, produced the +desired effect; and she soon satisfied Jane by her solemn assurances of +attachment. When convinced on that article, Miss Bennet had nothing +further to wish. + +“Now I am quite happy,” said she, “for you will be as happy as myself. I +always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but his love of you, I +must always have esteemed him; but now, as Bingley’s friend and your +husband, there can be only Bingley and yourself more dear to me. But, +Lizzy, you have been very sly, very reserved with me. How little did you +tell me of what passed at Pemberley and Lambton! I owe all that I know +of it to another, not to you.” + +Elizabeth told her the motives of her secrecy. She had been unwilling to +mention Bingley; and the unsettled state of her own feelings had made +her equally avoid the name of his friend: but now she would no longer +conceal from her his share in Lydia’s marriage. All was acknowledged, +and half the night spent in conversation. + +“Good gracious!” cried Mrs. Bennet, as she stood at a window the next +morning, “if that disagreeable Mr. Darcy is not coming here again with +our dear Bingley! What can he mean by being so tiresome as to be always +coming here? I had no notion but he would go a-shooting, or something or +other, and not disturb us with his company. What shall we do with him? +Lizzy, you must walk out with him again, that he may not be in Bingley’s +way.” + +Elizabeth could hardly help laughing at so convenient a proposal; yet +was really vexed that her mother should be always giving him such an +epithet. + +As soon as they entered, Bingley looked at her so expressively, and +shook hands with such warmth, as left no doubt of his good information; +and he soon afterwards said aloud, “Mrs. Bennet, have you no more lanes +hereabouts in which Lizzy may lose her way again to-day?” + +“I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty,” said Mrs. Bennet, “to walk +to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk, and Mr. Darcy has +never seen the view.” + +“It may do very well for the others,” replied Mr. Bingley; “but I am +sure it will be too much for Kitty. Won’t it, Kitty?” + +Kitty owned that she had rather stay at home. Darcy professed a great +curiosity to see the view from the Mount, and Elizabeth silently +consented. As she went upstairs to get ready, Mrs. Bennet followed her, +saying,-- + +“I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have that +disagreeable man all to yourself; but I hope you will not mind it. It is +all for Jane’s sake, you know; and there is no occasion for talking to +him except just now and then; so do not put yourself to inconvenience.” + +During their walk, it was resolved that Mr. Bennet’s consent should be +asked in the course of the evening: Elizabeth reserved to herself the +application for her mother’s. She could not determine how her mother +would take it; sometimes doubting whether all his wealth and grandeur +would be enough to overcome her abhorrence of the man; but whether she +were violently set against the match, or violently delighted with it, it +was certain that her manner would be equally ill adapted to do credit to +her sense; and she could no more bear that Mr. Darcy should hear the +first raptures of her joy, than the first vehemence of her +disapprobation. + +In the evening, soon after Mr. Bennet withdrew to the library, she saw +Mr. Darcy rise also and follow him, and her agitation on seeing it was +extreme. She did not fear her father’s opposition, but he was going to +be made unhappy, and that it should be through her means; that _she_, +his favourite child, should be distressing him by her choice, should be +filling him with fears and regrets in disposing of her, was a wretched +reflection, and she sat in misery till Mr. Darcy appeared again, when, +looking at him, she was a little relieved by his smile. In a few minutes +he approached the table where she was sitting with Kitty; and, while +pretending to admire her work, said in a whisper, “Go to your father; he +wants you in the library.” She was gone directly. + +Her father was walking about the room, looking grave and anxious. +“Lizzy,” said he, “what are you doing? Are you out of your senses to be +accepting this man? Have not you always hated him?” + +How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had been more +reasonable, her expressions more moderate! It would have spared her from +explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give; +but they were now necessary, and she assured him, with some confusion, +of her attachment to Mr. Darcy. + +“Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be +sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine carriages than Jane. +But will they make you happy?” + +“Have you any other objection,” said Elizabeth, “than your belief of my +indifference?” + +“None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but +this would be nothing if you really liked him.” + +“I do, I do like him,” she replied, with tears in her eyes; “I love him. +Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not +know what he really is; then pray do not pain me by speaking of him in +such terms.” + +“Lizzy,” said her father, “I have given him my consent. He is the kind +of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything, which he +condescended to ask. I now give it to _you_, if you are resolved on +having him. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your +disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor +respectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband, unless you looked +up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the +greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape +discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing +_you_ unable to respect your partner in life. You know not what you are +about.” + +Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in her reply; +and, at length, by repeated assurances that Mr. Darcy was really the +object of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her +estimation of him had undergone, relating her absolute certainty that +his affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many +months’ suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities, +she did conquer her father’s incredulity, and reconcile him to the +match. + +“Well, my dear,” said he, when she ceased speaking, “I have no more to +say. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could not have parted with +you, my Lizzy, to anyone less worthy.” + +To complete the favourable impression, she then told him what Mr. Darcy +had voluntarily done for Lydia. He heard her with astonishment. + +“This is an evening of wonders, indeed! And so, Darcy did everything; +made up the match, gave the money, paid the fellow’s debts, and got him +his commission! So much the better. It will save me a world of trouble +and economy. Had it been your uncle’s doing, I must and _would_ have +paid him; but these violent young lovers carry everything their own +way. I shall offer to pay him to-morrow, he will rant and storm about +his love for you, and there will be an end of the matter.” + +He then recollected her embarrassment a few days before on his reading +Mr. Collins’s letter; and after laughing at her some time, allowed her +at last to go, saying, as she quitted the room, “If any young men come +for Mary or Kitty, send them in, for I am quite at leisure.” + +Elizabeth’s mind was now relieved from a very heavy weight; and, after +half an hour’s quiet reflection in her own room, she was able to join +the others with tolerable composure. Everything was too recent for +gaiety, but the evening passed tranquilly away; there was no longer +anything material to be dreaded, and the comfort of ease and familiarity +would come in time. + +When her mother went up to her dressing-room at night, she followed her, +and made the important communication. Its effect was most extraordinary; +for, on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennet sat quite still, and unable to +utter a syllable. Nor was it under many, many minutes, that she could +comprehend what she heard, though not in general backward to credit what +was for the advantage of her family, or that came in the shape of a +lover to any of them. She began at length to recover, to fidget about in +her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder, and bless herself. + +“Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would +have thought it? And is it really true? Oh, my sweetest Lizzy! how rich +and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages +you will have! Jane’s is nothing to it--nothing at all. I am so +pleased--so happy. Such a charming man! so handsome! so tall! Oh, my +dear Lizzy! pray apologize for my having disliked him so much before. I +hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Everything +that is charming! Three daughters married! Ten thousand a year! Oh, +Lord! what will become of me? I shall go distracted.” + +This was enough to prove that her approbation need not be doubted; and +Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusion was heard only by herself, +soon went away. But before she had been three minutes in her own room, +her mother followed her. + +“My dearest child,” she cried, “I can think of nothing else. Ten +thousand a year, and very likely more! ’Tis as good as a lord! And a +special licence--you must and shall be married by a special licence. +But, my dearest love, tell me what dish Mr. Darcy is particularly fond +of, that I may have it to-morrow.” + +This was a sad omen of what her mother’s behaviour to the gentleman +himself might be; and Elizabeth found that, though in the certain +possession of his warmest affection, and secure of her relations’ +consent, there was still something to be wished for. But the morrow +passed off much better than she expected; for Mrs. Bennet luckily stood +in such awe of her intended son-in-law, that she ventured not to speak +to him, unless it was in her power to offer him any attention, or mark +her deference for his opinion. + +Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her father taking pains to get +acquainted with him; and Mr. Bennet soon assured her that he was rising +every hour in his esteem. + +“I admire all my three sons-in-law highly,” said he. “Wickham, perhaps, +is my favourite; but I think I shall like _your_ husband quite as well +as Jane’s.” + + + + +[Illustration: + +“The obsequious civility.” + +[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]] + + + + +CHAPTER LX. + + +[Illustration] + +Elizabeth’s spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she wanted Mr. +Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. “How could +you begin?” said she. “I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when +you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first +place?” + +“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which +laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I +knew that I _had_ begun.” + +“My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners--my behaviour +to _you_ was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke +to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now, be +sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?” + +“For the liveliness of your mind I did.” + +“You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was very little less. +The fact is, that you were sick of civility, of deference, of officious +attention. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking, +and looking, and thinking for _your_ approbation alone. I roused and +interested you, because I was so unlike _them_. Had you not been really +amiable you would have hated me for it: but in spite of the pains you +took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always noble and just; and +in your heart you thoroughly despised the persons who so assiduously +courted you. There--I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it; +and really, all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly +reasonable. To be sure you know no actual good of me--but nobody thinks +of _that_ when they fall in love.” + +“Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to Jane, while she was +ill at Netherfield?” + +“Dearest Jane! who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it +by all means. My good qualities are under your protection, and you are +to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me +to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may +be; and I shall begin directly, by asking you what made you so unwilling +to come to the point at last? What made you so shy of me, when you +first called, and afterwards dined here? Why, especially, when you +called, did you look as if you did not care about me?” + +“Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement.” + +“But I was embarrassed.” + +“And so was I.” + +“You might have talked to me more when you came to dinner.” + +“A man who had felt less might.” + +“How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer to give, and that +I should be so reasonable as to admit it! But I wonder how long you +_would_ have gone on, if you had been left to yourself. I wonder when +you _would_ have spoken if I had not asked you! My resolution of +thanking you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect. _Too +much_, I am afraid; for what becomes of the moral, if our comfort +springs from a breach of promise, for I ought not to have mentioned the +subject? This will never do.” + +“You need not distress yourself. The moral will be perfectly fair. Lady +Catherine’s unjustifiable endeavours to separate us were the means of +removing all my doubts. I am not indebted for my present happiness to +your eager desire of expressing your gratitude. I was not in a humour to +wait for an opening of yours. My aunt’s intelligence had given me hope, +and I was determined at once to know everything.” + +“Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to make her happy, +for she loves to be of use. But tell me, what did you come down to +Netherfield for? Was it merely to ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed? +or had you intended any more serious consequences?” + +“My real purpose was to see _you_, and to judge, if I could, whether I +might ever hope to make you love me. My avowed one, or what I avowed to +myself, was to see whether your sister was still partial to Bingley, and +if she were, to make the confession to him which I have since made.” + +“Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady Catherine what is to +befall her?” + +“I am more likely to want time than courage, Elizabeth. But it ought to +be done; and if you will give me a sheet of paper it shall be done +directly.” + +“And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you, and +admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady once did. But +I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer neglected.” + +From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy with Mr. Darcy +had been overrated, Elizabeth had never yet answered Mrs. Gardiner’s +long letter; but now, having _that_ to communicate which she knew would +be most welcome, she was almost ashamed to find that her uncle and aunt +had already lost three days of happiness, and immediately wrote as +follows:-- + +“I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought to have done, +for your long, kind, satisfactory detail of particulars; but, to say the +truth, I was too cross to write. You supposed more than really existed. +But _now_ suppose as much as you choose; give a loose to your fancy, +indulge your imagination in every possible flight which the subject will +afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot greatly +err. You must write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more +than you did in your last. I thank you again and again, for not going to +the Lakes. How could I be so silly as to wish it! Your idea of the +ponies is delightful. We will go round the park every day. I am the +happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so +before, but no one with such justice. I am happier even than Jane; she +only smiles, I laugh. Mr. Darcy sends you all the love in the world that +can be spared from me. You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas. +Yours,” etc. + +Mr. Darcy’s letter to Lady Catherine was in a different style, and still +different from either was what Mr. Bennet sent to Mr. Collins, in return +for his last. + + /* “Dear Sir, */ + + “I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth will + soon be the wife of Mr. Darcy. Console Lady Catherine as well as + you can. But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has + more to give. + +“Yours sincerely,” etc. + +Miss Bingley’s congratulations to her brother on his approaching +marriage were all that was affectionate and insincere. She wrote even to +Jane on the occasion, to express her delight, and repeat all her former +professions of regard. Jane was not deceived, but she was affected; and +though feeling no reliance on her, could not help writing her a much +kinder answer than she knew was deserved. + +The joy which Miss Darcy expressed on receiving similar information was +as sincere as her brother’s in sending it. Four sides of paper were +insufficient to contain all her delight, and all her earnest desire of +being loved by her sister. + +Before any answer could arrive from Mr. Collins, or any congratulations +to Elizabeth from his wife, the Longbourn family heard that the +Collinses were come themselves to Lucas Lodge. The reason of this +sudden removal was soon evident. Lady Catherine had been rendered so +exceedingly angry by the contents of her nephew’s letter, that +Charlotte, really rejoicing in the match, was anxious to get away till +the storm was blown over. At such a moment, the arrival of her friend +was a sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, though in the course of their +meetings she must sometimes think the pleasure dearly bought, when she +saw Mr. Darcy exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility of her +husband. He bore it, however, with admirable calmness. He could even +listen to Sir William Lucas, when he complimented him on carrying away +the brightest jewel of the country, and expressed his hopes of their all +meeting frequently at St. James’s, with very decent composure. If he did +shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir William was out of sight. + +Mrs. Philips’s vulgarity was another, and, perhaps, a greater tax on his +forbearance; and though Mrs. Philips, as well as her sister, stood in +too much awe of him to speak with the familiarity which Bingley’s +good-humour encouraged; yet, whenever she _did_ speak, she must be +vulgar. Nor was her respect for him, though it made her more quiet, at +all likely to make her more elegant. Elizabeth did all she could to +shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to +keep him to herself, and to those of her family with whom he might +converse without mortification; and though the uncomfortable feelings +arising from all this took from the season of courtship much of its +pleasure, it added to the hope of the future; and she looked forward +with delight to the time when they should be removed from society so +little pleasing to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their +family party at Pemberley. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +CHAPTER LXI. + + +[Illustration] + +Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs. Bennet got +rid of her two most deserving daughters. With what delighted pride she +afterwards visited Mrs. Bingley, and talked of Mrs. Darcy, may be +guessed. I wish I could say, for the sake of her family, that the +accomplishment of her earnest desire in the establishment of so many of +her children produced so happy an effect as to make her a sensible, +amiable, well-informed woman for the rest of her life; though, perhaps, +it was lucky for her husband, who might not have relished domestic +felicity in so unusual a form, that she still was occasionally nervous +and invariably silly. + +Mr. Bennet missed his second daughter exceedingly; his affection for her +drew him oftener from home than anything else could do. He delighted in +going to Pemberley, especially when he was least expected. + +Mr. Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield only a twelvemonth. So near +a vicinity to her mother and Meryton relations was not desirable even to +_his_ easy temper, or _her_ affectionate heart. The darling wish of his +sisters was then gratified: he bought an estate in a neighbouring county +to Derbyshire; and Jane and Elizabeth, in addition to every other source +of happiness, were within thirty miles of each other. + +Kitty, to her very material advantage, spent the chief of her time with +her two elder sisters. In society so superior to what she had generally +known, her improvement was great. She was not of so ungovernable a +temper as Lydia; and, removed from the influence of Lydia’s example, she +became, by proper attention and management, less irritable, less +ignorant, and less insipid. From the further disadvantage of Lydia’s +society she was of course carefully kept; and though Mrs. Wickham +frequently invited her to come and stay with her, with the promise of +balls and young men, her father would never consent to her going. + +Mary was the only daughter who remained at home; and she was necessarily +drawn from the pursuit of accomplishments by Mrs. Bennet’s being quite +unable to sit alone. Mary was obliged to mix more with the world, but +she could still moralize over every morning visit; and as she was no +longer mortified by comparisons between her sisters’ beauty and her own, +it was suspected by her father that she submitted to the change without +much reluctance. + +As for Wickham and Lydia, their characters suffered no revolution from +the marriage of her sisters. He bore with philosophy the conviction that +Elizabeth must now become acquainted with whatever of his ingratitude +and falsehood had before been unknown to her; and, in spite of +everything, was not wholly without hope that Darcy might yet be +prevailed on to make his fortune. The congratulatory letter which +Elizabeth received from Lydia on her marriage explained to her that, by +his wife at least, if not by himself, such a hope was cherished. The +letter was to this effect:-- + + /* “My dear Lizzy, */ + + “I wish you joy. If you love Mr. Darcy half so well as I do my dear + Wickham, you must be very happy. It is a great comfort to have you + so rich; and when you have nothing else to do, I hope you will + think of us. I am sure Wickham would like a place at court very + much; and I do not think we shall have quite money enough to live + upon without some help. Any place would do of about three or four + hundred a year; but, however, do not speak to Mr. Darcy about it, + if you had rather not. + +“Yours,” etc. + +As it happened that Elizabeth had much rather not, she endeavoured in +her answer to put an end to every entreaty and expectation of the kind. +Such relief, however, as it was in her power to afford, by the practice +of what might be called economy in her own private expenses, she +frequently sent them. It had always been evident to her that such an +income as theirs, under the direction of two persons so extravagant in +their wants, and heedless of the future, must be very insufficient to +their support; and whenever they changed their quarters, either Jane or +herself were sure of being applied to for some little assistance towards +discharging their bills. Their manner of living, even when the +restoration of peace dismissed them to a home, was unsettled in the +extreme. They were always moving from place to place in quest of a +cheap situation, and always spending more than they ought. His affection +for her soon sunk into indifference: hers lasted a little longer; and, +in spite of her youth and her manners, she retained all the claims to +reputation which her marriage had given her. Though Darcy could never +receive _him_ at Pemberley, yet, for Elizabeth’s sake, he assisted him +further in his profession. Lydia was occasionally a visitor there, when +her husband was gone to enjoy himself in London or Bath; and with the +Bingleys they both of them frequently stayed so long, that even +Bingley’s good-humour was overcome, and he proceeded so far as to _talk_ +of giving them a hint to be gone. + +Miss Bingley was very deeply mortified by Darcy’s marriage; but as she +thought it advisable to retain the right of visiting at Pemberley, she +dropped all her resentment; was fonder than ever of Georgiana, almost as +attentive to Darcy as heretofore, and paid off every arrear of civility +to Elizabeth. + +Pemberley was now Georgiana’s home; and the attachment of the sisters +was exactly what Darcy had hoped to see. They were able to love each +other, even as well as they intended. Georgiana had the highest opinion +in the world of Elizabeth; though at first she often listened with an +astonishment bordering on alarm at her lively, sportive manner of +talking to her brother. He, who had always inspired in herself a respect +which almost overcame her affection, she now saw the object of open +pleasantry. Her mind received knowledge which had never before fallen in +her way. By Elizabeth’s instructions she began to comprehend that a +woman may take liberties with her husband, which a brother will not +always allow in a sister more than ten years younger than himself. + +Lady Catherine was extremely indignant on the marriage of her nephew; +and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her character, in +her reply to the letter which announced its arrangement, she sent him +language so very abusive, especially of Elizabeth, that for some time +all intercourse was at an end. But at length, by Elizabeth’s persuasion, +he was prevailed on to overlook the offence, and seek a reconciliation; +and, after a little further resistance on the part of his aunt, her +resentment gave way, either to her affection for him, or her curiosity +to see how his wife conducted herself; and she condescended to wait on +them at Pemberley, in spite of that pollution which its woods had +received, not merely from the presence of such a mistress, but the +visits of her uncle and aunt from the city. + +With the Gardiners they were always on the most intimate terms. Darcy, +as well as Elizabeth, really loved them; and they were both ever +sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing +her into Derbyshire, had been the means of uniting them. + + [Illustration: + + THE + END + ] + + + + + CHISWICK PRESS:--CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO. + TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON. + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1342 *** diff --git a/1342-h/1342-h.htm b/1342-h/1342-h.htm index 32f2960..7fcb624 100644 --- a/1342-h/1342-h.htm +++ b/1342-h/1342-h.htm @@ -1,14502 +1,14497 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html>
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- The Project Gutenberg eBook of Pride and prejudice, by Jane Austen.
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-<body>
-<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1342 ***</div>
-
-<hr class="full">
-
-<div class="blk">
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#PREFACE">PREFACE.</a><br>
-<a href="#LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS">List of Illustrations.</a><br>
-<a href="#Chapter_I">Chapter: I., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_II">II., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_III">III., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_V">V., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_X">X., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">XXV., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">XXVI., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">XXVII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">XXVIII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">XXIX., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">XXX., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">XXXI., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">XXXII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">XXXIII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">XXXIV., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">XXXV., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">XXXVI., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">XXXVII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">XXXVIII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">XXXIX., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XL">XL., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">XLI., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XLII">XLII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII">XLIII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV">XLIV., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XLV">XLV., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XLVI"> XLVI., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XLVII">XLVII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XLVIII">XLVIII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIX">XLIX., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_L">L., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_LI">LI., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_LII">LII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_LIII">LIII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_LIV">LIV., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_LV">LV., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_LVI">LVI., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_LVII">LVII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_LVIII">LVIII., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_LIX">LIX., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_LX">LX., </a>
-<a href="#CHAPTER_LXI">LXI.</a>
-</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-<a href="images/cover.jpg">
-<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="550" alt=""></a>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-<img src="images/colophon.png" width="200" alt="[Colophon: GEORGE ALLEN
-PUBLISHER
-
-156 CHARING CROSS ROAD
-LONDON]">
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_iv">{iv}</a></span>
-<img src="images/i_003.jpg" height="600" alt="Reading Jane’s Letters. Chap 34.">
-</div>
-
-<div class="blk"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_v">{v}</a></span>
-<h1><img src="images/front.png"
-height="600"
-alt="">
-<br><br>
-<i>PRIDE.<br>
-and<br>
-PREJUDICE</i></h1>
-
-<p class="cbig250"><i>
-by<br>
-Jane Austen,<br>
-<br><small>
-with a Preface by</small><br>
-George Saintsbury<br>
-<small>and<br>
-Illustrations by</small><br>
-Hugh Thomson<br></i>
-</p>
-
-<table style="font-style:italic;">
-<tr><td class="c">Ruskin<br>
-House.</td>
-<td>
-<img src="images/peacock-1894.png"
-style="vertical-align:top;"
-height="300"
-alt="      ">
-</td>
-<td class="c">
-156. Charing<br>
-Cross Road.</td></tr>
-<tr><td colspan="3" class="c">
-London<br>
-George Allen.</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<p class="c"><small>
-CHISWICK PRESS:—CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.<br>
-TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.<br></small>
-</p>
-
-<div class="blk"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_vii">{vii}</a></span>
-<p class="c">
-
-<img src="images/i_008.png"
-width="450"
-alt="To J. Comyns Carr
-in acknowledgment of all I
-owe to his friendship and
-advice, these illustrations are
-gratefully inscribed
-
-Hugh Thomson"></p>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a id="PREFACE"></a><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_ix">{ix}</a></span>
-<img src="images/i_010.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="PREFACE."></h2>
-
-<p><i><span class="smcap">Walt Whitman</span> has somewhere a fine and just distinction between “loving
-by allowance” and “loving with personal love.” This distinction applies
-to books as well as to men and women; and in the case of the not very
-numerous authors who are the objects of the personal affection, it
-brings a curious consequence with it. There is much more difference as
-to their best work than in the case of those others who are loved “by
-allowance” by convention, and because it is felt to be the right and
-proper thing to love them. And in the sect—fairly large and yet
-unusually choice—of Austenians or Janites, there would probably be
-found partisans of the claim to primacy of almost every one of the
-novels. To some the delightful freshness and humour of</i> Northanger
-Abbey, <i>its completeness, finish, and</i> entrain, <i>obscure the undoubted
-critical facts that its scale is small, and its scheme, after all, that
-of burlesque or parody, a kind in which the first rank is reached with
-difficulty.</i> Persuasion, <i>relatively faint in tone, and not enthralling
-in interest, has devotees who exalt above all the others its exquisite
-delicacy and keeping. The catastrophe of</i> Mansfield Park <i>is admittedly
-theatrical, the hero and heroine are insipid, and the author has almost<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_x">{x}</a></span>
-wickedly destroyed all romantic interest by expressly admitting that
-Edmund only took Fanny because Mary shocked him, and that Fanny might
-very likely have taken Crawford if he had been a little more assiduous;
-yet the matchless rehearsal-scenes and the characters of Mrs. Norris and
-others have secured, I believe, a considerable party for it.</i> Sense and
-Sensibility <i>has perhaps the fewest out-and-out admirers; but it does
-not want them.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>I suppose, however, that the majority of at least competent votes
-would, all things considered, be divided between</i> Emma <i>and the present
-book; and perhaps the vulgar verdict (if indeed a fondness for Miss
-Austen be not of itself a patent of exemption from any possible charge
-of vulgarity) would go for</i> Emma. <i>It is the larger, the more varied, the
-more popular; the author had by the time of its composition seen rather
-more of the world, and had improved her general, though not her most
-peculiar and characteristic dialogue; such figures as Miss Bates, as the
-Eltons, cannot but unite the suffrages of everybody. On the other hand,
-I, for my part, declare for</i> Pride and Prejudice <i>unhesitatingly. It
-seems to me the most perfect, the most characteristic, the most
-eminently quintessential of its author’s works; and for this contention
-in such narrow space as is permitted to me, I propose here to show
-cause.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>In the first place, the book (it may be barely necessary to remind the
-reader) was in its first shape written very early, somewhere about 1796,
-when Miss Austen was barely twenty-one; though it was revised and
-finished at Chawton some fifteen years later, and was not published till
-1813, only four years before her death. I do not know whether, in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xi">{xi}</a></span> this
-combination of the fresh and vigorous projection of youth, and the
-critical revision of middle life, there may be traced the distinct
-superiority in point of construction, which, as it seems to me, it
-possesses over all the others. The plot, though not elaborate, is almost
-regular enough for Fielding; hardly a character, hardly an incident
-could be retrenched without loss to the story. The elopement of Lydia
-and Wickham is not, like that of Crawford and Mrs. Rushworth, a</i> coup de
-théâtre; <i>it connects itself in the strictest way with the course of the
-story earlier, and brings about the denouement with complete propriety.
-All the minor passages—the loves of Jane and Bingley, the advent of Mr.
-Collins, the visit to Hunsford, the Derbyshire tour—fit in after the
-same unostentatious, but masterly fashion. There is no attempt at the
-hide-and-seek, in-and-out business, which in the transactions between
-Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax contributes no doubt a good deal to the
-intrigue of</i> Emma, <i>but contributes it in a fashion which I do not think
-the best feature of that otherwise admirable book. Although Miss Austen
-always liked something of the misunderstanding kind, which afforded her
-opportunities for the display of the peculiar and incomparable talent to
-be noticed presently, she has been satisfied here with the perfectly
-natural occasions provided by the false account of Darcy’s conduct given
-by Wickham, and by the awkwardness (arising with equal naturalness) from
-the gradual transformation of Elizabeth’s own feelings from positive
-aversion to actual love. I do not know whether the all-grasping hand of
-the playwright has ever been laid upon</i> Pride and Prejudice; <i>and I dare
-say that,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xii">{xii}</a></span> if it were, the situations would prove not startling or
-garish enough for the footlights, the character-scheme too subtle and
-delicate for pit and gallery. But if the attempt were made, it would
-certainly not be hampered by any of those loosenesses of construction,
-which, sometimes disguised by the conveniences of which the novelist can
-avail himself, appear at once on the stage.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>I think, however, though the thought will doubtless seem heretical to
-more than one school of critics, that construction is not the highest
-merit, the choicest gift, of the novelist. It sets off his other gifts
-and graces most advantageously to the critical eye; and the want of it
-will sometimes mar those graces—appreciably, though not quite
-consciously—to eyes by no means ultra-critical. But a very badly-built
-novel which excelled in pathetic or humorous character, or which
-displayed consummate command of dialogue—perhaps the rarest of all
-faculties—would be an infinitely better thing than a faultless plot
-acted and told by puppets with pebbles in their mouths. And despite the
-ability which Miss Austen has shown in working out the story, I for one
-should put</i> Pride and Prejudice <i>far lower if it did not contain what
-seem to me the very masterpieces of Miss Austen’s humour and of her
-faculty of character-creation—masterpieces who may indeed admit John
-Thorpe, the Eltons, Mrs. Norris, and one or two others to their company,
-but who, in one instance certainly, and perhaps in others, are still
-superior to them.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>The characteristics of Miss Austen’s humour are so subtle and delicate
-that they are, perhaps, at all times easier to apprehend than to
-express, and at any particular<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xiii">{xiii}</a></span> time likely to be differently
-apprehended by different persons. To me this humour seems to possess a
-greater affinity, on the whole, to that of Addison than to any other of
-the numerous species of this great British genus. The differences of
-scheme, of time, of subject, of literary convention, are, of course,
-obvious enough; the difference of sex does not, perhaps, count for much,
-for there was a distinctly feminine element in “Mr. Spectator,” and in
-Jane Austen’s genius there was, though nothing mannish, much that was
-masculine. But the likeness of quality consists in a great number of
-common subdivisions of quality—demureness, extreme minuteness of touch,
-avoidance of loud tones and glaring effects. Also there is in both a
-certain not inhuman or unamiable cruelty. It is the custom with those
-who judge grossly to contrast the good nature of Addison with the
-savagery of Swift, the mildness of Miss Austen with the boisterousness
-of Fielding and Smollett, even with the ferocious practical jokes that
-her immediate predecessor, Miss Burney, allowed without very much
-protest. Yet, both in Mr. Addison and in Miss Austen there is, though a
-restrained and well-mannered, an insatiable and ruthless delight in
-roasting and cutting up a fool. A man in the early eighteenth century,
-of course, could push this taste further than a lady in the early
-nineteenth; and no doubt Miss Austen’s principles, as well as her heart,
-would have shrunk from such things as the letter from the unfortunate
-husband in the</i> Spectator, <i>who describes, with all the gusto and all the
-innocence in the world, how his wife and his friend induce him to play
-at blind-man’s-buff. But another</i> Spectator <i>letter—that of the damsel
-of fourteen who<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xiv">{xiv}</a></span> wishes to marry Mr. Shapely, and assures her selected
-Mentor that “he admires your</i> Spectators <i>mightily”—might have been
-written by a rather more ladylike and intelligent Lydia Bennet in the
-days of Lydia’s great-grandmother; while, on the other hand, some (I
-think unreasonably) have found “cynicism” in touches of Miss Austen’s
-own, such as her satire of Mrs. Musgrove’s self-deceiving regrets over
-her son. But this word “cynical” is one of the most misused in the
-English language, especially when, by a glaring and gratuitous
-falsification of its original sense, it is applied, not to rough and
-snarling invective, but to gentle and oblique satire. If cynicism means
-the perception of “the other side,” the sense of “the accepted hells
-beneath,” the consciousness that motives are nearly always mixed, and
-that to seem is not identical with to be—if this be cynicism, then
-every man and woman who is not a fool, who does not care to live in a
-fool’s paradise, who has knowledge of nature and the world and life, is
-a cynic. And in that sense Miss Austen certainly was one. She may even
-have been one in the further sense that, like her own Mr. Bennet, she
-took an epicurean delight in dissecting, in displaying, in setting at
-work her fools and her mean persons. I think she did take this delight,
-and I do not think at all the worse of her for it as a woman, while she
-was immensely the better for it as an artist.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>In respect of her art generally, Mr. Goldwin Smith has truly observed
-that “metaphor has been exhausted in depicting the perfection of it,
-combined with the narrowness of her field;” and he has justly added that
-we need not go beyond her own comparison to the art of a miniature<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xv">{xv}</a></span>
-painter. To make this latter observation quite exact we must not use the
-term miniature in its restricted sense, and must think rather of Memling
-at one end of the history of painting and Meissonier at the other, than
-of Cosway or any of his kind. And I am not so certain that I should
-myself use the word “narrow” in connection with her. If her world is a
-microcosm, the cosmic quality of it is at least as eminent as the
-littleness. She does not touch what she did not feel herself called to
-paint; I am not so sure that she could not have painted what she did not
-feel herself called to touch. It is at least remarkable that in two very
-short periods of writing—one of about three years, and another of not
-much more than five—she executed six capital works, and has not left a
-single failure. It is possible that the romantic paste in her
-composition was defective: we must always remember that hardly anybody
-born in her decade—that of the eighteenth-century
-seventies—independently exhibited the full romantic quality. Even Scott
-required hill and mountain and ballad, even Coleridge metaphysics and
-German to enable them to chip the classical shell. Miss Austen was an
-English girl, brought up in a country retirement, at the time when
-ladies went back into the house if there was a white frost which might
-pierce their kid shoes, when a sudden cold was the subject of the
-gravest fears, when their studies, their ways, their conduct were
-subject to all those fantastic limits and restrictions against which
-Mary Wollstonecraft protested with better general sense than particular
-taste or judgment. Miss Austen, too, drew back when the white frost
-touched her shoes; but I think she would have made a pretty good journey
-even in a black one.</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xvi">{xvi}</a></span></p>
-
-<p><i>For if her knowledge was not very extended, she knew two things which
-only genius knows. The one was humanity, and the other was art. On the
-first head she could not make a mistake; her men, though limited, are
-true, and her women are, in the old sense, “absolute.” As to art, if she
-has never tried idealism, her realism is real to a degree which makes
-the false realism of our own day look merely dead-alive. Take almost any
-Frenchman, except the late M. de Maupassant, and watch him laboriously
-piling up strokes in the hope of giving a complete impression. You get
-none; you are lucky if, discarding two-thirds of what he gives, you can
-shape a real impression out of the rest. But with Miss Austen the
-myriad, trivial, unforced strokes build up the picture like magic.
-Nothing is false; nothing is superfluous. When (to take the present book
-only) Mr. Collins changed his mind from Jane to Elizabeth “while Mrs.
-Bennet was stirring the fire” (and we know</i> how <i>Mrs. Bennet would have
-stirred the fire), when Mr. Darcy “brought his coffee-cup back</i>
-himself,” <i>the touch in each case is like that of Swift—“taller by the
-breadth of my nail”—which impressed the half-reluctant Thackeray with
-just and outspoken admiration. Indeed, fantastic as it may seem, I
-should put Miss Austen as near to Swift in some ways, as I have put her
-to Addison in others.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>This Swiftian quality appears in the present novel as it appears
-nowhere else in the character of the immortal, the ineffable Mr.
-Collins. Mr. Collins is really</i> great; <i>far greater than anything Addison
-ever did, almost great enough for Fielding or for Swift himself. It has
-been said that no one ever was like him. But in the first<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xvii">{xvii}</a></span> place,</i> he
-<i>was like him; he is there—alive, imperishable, more real than hundreds
-of prime ministers and archbishops, of “metals, semi-metals, and
-distinguished philosophers.” In the second place, it is rash, I think,
-to conclude that an actual Mr. Collins was impossible or non-existent at
-the end of the eighteenth century. It is very interesting that we
-possess, in this same gallery, what may be called a spoiled first
-draught, or an unsuccessful study of him, in John Dashwood. The
-formality, the under-breeding, the meanness, are there; but the portrait
-is only half alive, and is felt to be even a little unnatural. Mr.
-Collins is perfectly natural, and perfectly alive. In fact, for all the
-“miniature,” there is something gigantic in the way in which a certain
-side, and more than one, of humanity, and especially eighteenth-century
-humanity, its Philistinism, its well-meaning but hide-bound morality,
-its formal pettiness, its grovelling respect for rank, its materialism,
-its selfishness, receives exhibition. I will not admit that one speech
-or one action of this inestimable man is incapable of being reconciled
-with reality, and I should not wonder if many of these words and actions
-are historically true.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>But the greatness of Mr. Collins could not have been so satisfactorily
-exhibited if his creatress had not adjusted so artfully to him the
-figures of Mr. Bennet and of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. The latter, like
-Mr. Collins himself, has been charged with exaggeration. There is,
-perhaps, a very faint shade of colour for the charge; but it seems to me
-very faint indeed. Even now I do not think that it would be impossible
-to find persons, especially female persons, not necessarily of noble
-birth, as overbearing, as<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xviii">{xviii}</a></span> self-centred, as neglectful of good manners,
-as Lady Catherine. A hundred years ago, an earl’s daughter, the Lady
-Powerful (if not exactly Bountiful) of an out-of-the-way country parish,
-rich, long out of marital authority, and so forth, had opportunities of
-developing these agreeable characteristics which seldom present
-themselves now. As for Mr. Bennet, Miss Austen, and Mr. Darcy, and even
-Miss Elizabeth herself, were, I am inclined to think, rather hard on him
-for the “impropriety” of his conduct. His wife was evidently, and must
-always have been, a quite irreclaimable fool; and unless he had shot her
-or himself there was no way out of it for a man of sense and spirit but
-the ironic. From no other point of view is he open to any reproach,
-except for an excusable and not unnatural helplessness at the crisis of
-the elopement, and his utterances are the most acutely delightful in the
-consciously humorous kind—in the kind that we laugh with, not at—that
-even Miss Austen has put into the mouth of any of her characters. It is
-difficult to know whether he is most agreeable when talking to his wife,
-or when putting Mr. Collins through his paces; but the general sense of
-the world has probably been right in preferring to the first rank his
-consolation to the former when she maunders over the entail, “My dear,
-do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for better things.
-Let us flatter ourselves that</i> I <i>may be the survivor;” and his inquiry
-to his colossal cousin as to the compliments which Mr. Collins has just
-related as made by himself to Lady Catherine, “May I ask whether these
-pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xix">{xix}</a></span> or are the
-result of previous study?” These are the things which give Miss Austen’s
-readers the pleasant shocks, the delightful thrills, which are felt by
-the readers of Swift, of Fielding, and we may here add, of Thackeray, as
-they are felt by the readers of no other English author of fiction
-outside of these four.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>The goodness of the minor characters in</i> Pride and Prejudice <i>has been
-already alluded to, and it makes a detailed dwelling on their beauties
-difficult in any space, and impossible in this. Mrs. Bennet we have
-glanced at, and it is not easy to say whether she is more exquisitely
-amusing or more horribly true. Much the same may be said of Kitty and
-Lydia; but it is not every author, even of genius, who would have
-differentiated with such unerring skill the effects of folly and
-vulgarity of intellect and disposition working upon the common
-weaknesses of woman at such different ages. With Mary, Miss Austen has
-taken rather less pains, though she has been even more unkind to her;
-not merely in the text, but, as we learn from those interesting
-traditional appendices which Mr. Austen Leigh has given us, in dooming
-her privately to marry “one of Mr. Philips’s clerks.” The habits of
-first copying and then retailing moral sentiments, of playing and
-singing too long in public, are, no doubt, grievous and criminal; but
-perhaps poor Mary was rather the scapegoat of the sins of blue stockings
-in that Fordyce-belectured generation. It is at any rate difficult not
-to extend to her a share of the respect and affection (affection and
-respect of a peculiar kind; doubtless), with which one regards Mr.
-Collins, when she draws the moral of Lydia’s fall. I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xx">{xx}</a></span> sometimes wish
-that the exigencies of the story had permitted Miss Austen to unite
-these personages, and thus at once achieve a notable mating and soothe
-poor Mrs. Bennet’s anguish over the entail.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>The Bingleys and the Gardiners and the Lucases, Miss Darcy and Miss de
-Bourgh, Jane, Wickham, and the rest, must pass without special comment,
-further than the remark that Charlotte Lucas (her egregious papa, though
-delightful, is just a little on the thither side of the line between
-comedy and farce) is a wonderfully clever study in drab of one kind, and
-that Wickham (though something of Miss Austen’s hesitation of touch in
-dealing with young men appears) is a not much less notable sketch in
-drab of another. Only genius could have made Charlotte what she is, yet
-not disagreeable; Wickham what he is, without investing him either with
-a cheap Don Juanish attractiveness or a disgusting rascality. But the
-hero and the heroine are not tints to be dismissed.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>Darcy has always seemed to me by far the best and most interesting of
-Miss Austen’s heroes; the only possible competitor being Henry Tilney,
-whose part is so slight and simple that it hardly enters into
-comparison. It has sometimes, I believe, been urged that his pride is
-unnatural at first in its expression and later in its yielding, while
-his falling in love at all is not extremely probable. Here again I
-cannot go with the objectors. Darcy’s own account of the way in which
-his pride had been pampered, is perfectly rational and sufficient; and
-nothing could be, psychologically speaking, a</i> causa verior <i>for its
-sudden restoration to healthy conditions than the shock of Elizabeth’s
-scornful refusal acting on a nature</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xxi">{xxi}</a></span> ex hypothesi <i>generous. Nothing in
-even our author is finer and more delicately touched than the change of
-his demeanour at the sudden meeting in the grounds of Pemberley. Had he
-been a bad prig or a bad coxcomb, he might have been still smarting
-under his rejection, or suspicious that the girl had come
-husband-hunting. His being neither is exactly consistent with the
-probable feelings of a man spoilt in the common sense, but not really
-injured in disposition, and thoroughly in love. As for his being in
-love, Elizabeth has given as just an exposition of the causes of that
-phenomenon as Darcy has of the conditions of his unregenerate state,
-only she has of course not counted in what was due to her own personal
-charm.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>The secret of that charm many men and not a few women, from Miss Austen
-herself downwards, have felt, and like most charms it is a thing rather
-to be felt than to be explained. Elizabeth of course belongs to the</i>
-allegro <i>or</i> allegra <i>division of the army of Venus. Miss Austen was
-always provokingly chary of description in regard to her beauties; and
-except the fine eyes, and a hint or two that she had at any rate
-sometimes a bright complexion, and was not very tall, we hear nothing
-about her looks. But her chief difference from other heroines of the
-lively type seems to lie first in her being distinctly clever—almost
-strong-minded, in the better sense of that objectionable word—and
-secondly in her being entirely destitute of ill-nature for all her
-propensity to tease and the sharpness of her tongue. Elizabeth can give
-at least as good as she gets when she is attacked; but she never
-“scratches,” and she never attacks first. Some of the merest
-obsoletenesses of phrase and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xxii">{xxii}</a></span> manner give one or two of her early
-speeches a slight pertness, but that is nothing, and when she comes to
-serious business, as in the great proposal scene with Darcy (which is,
-as it should be, the climax of the interest of the book), and in the
-final ladies’ battle with Lady Catherine, she is unexceptionable. Then
-too she is a perfectly natural girl. She does not disguise from herself
-or anybody that she resents Darcy’s first ill-mannered personality with
-as personal a feeling. (By the way, the reproach that the ill-manners of
-this speech are overdone is certainly unjust; for things of the same
-kind, expressed no doubt less stiltedly but more coarsely, might have
-been heard in more than one ball-room during this very year from persons
-who ought to have been no worse bred than Darcy.) And she lets the
-injury done to Jane and the contempt shown to the rest of her family
-aggravate this resentment in the healthiest way in the world.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>Still, all this does not explain her charm, which, taking beauty as a
-common form of all heroines, may perhaps consist in the addition to her
-playfulness, her wit, her affectionate and natural disposition, of a
-certain fearlessness very uncommon in heroines of her type and age.
-Nearly all of them would have been in speechless awe of the magnificent
-Darcy; nearly all of them would have palpitated and fluttered at the
-idea of proposals, even naughty ones, from the fascinating Wickham.
-Elizabeth, with nothing offensive, nothing</i> viraginous, <i>nothing of the
-“New Woman” about her, has by nature what the best modern (not “new”)
-women have by education and experience, a perfect freedom from the idea
-that all men may bully her if they choose, and that most will<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xxiii">{xxiii}</a></span> away with
-her if they can. Though not in the least “impudent and mannish grown,”
-she has no mere sensibility, no nasty niceness about her. The form of
-passion common and likely to seem natural in Miss Austen’s day was so
-invariably connected with the display of one or the other, or both of
-these qualities, that she has not made Elizabeth outwardly passionate.
-But I, at least, have not the slightest doubt that she would have
-married Darcy just as willingly without Pemberley as with it, and
-anybody who can read between lines will not find the lovers’
-conversations in the final chapters so frigid as they might have looked
-to the Della Cruscans of their own day, and perhaps do look to the Della
-Cruscans of this.</i></p>
-
-<p><i>And, after all, what is the good of seeking for the reason of
-charm?—it is there. There were better sense in the sad mechanic
-exercise of determining the reason of its absence where it is not. In
-the novels of the last hundred years there are vast numbers of young
-ladies with whom it might be a pleasure to fall in love; there are at
-least five with whom, as it seems to me, no man of taste and spirit can
-help doing so. Their names are, in chronological order, Elizabeth
-Bennet, Diana Vernon, Argemone Lavington, Beatrix Esmond, and Barbara
-Grant. I should have been most in love with Beatrix and Argemone; I
-should, I think, for mere occasional companionship, have preferred Diana
-and Barbara. But to live with and to marry, I do not know that any one
-of the four can come into competition with Elizabeth.</i></p>
-
-<p class="rt">
-<i><span class="smcap">George Saintsbury.</span></i><br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xxiv">{xxiv}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS"></a><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xxv">{xxv}</a></span>
-<img src="images/i_026.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="List of Illustrations."></h2>
-
-<table>
-<tr><td> </td><td><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td>Frontispiece</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_iv">iv</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Title-page</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_v">v</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Dedication</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_vii">vii</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Preface</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_ix">ix</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to List of Illustrations</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_xxv">xxv</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter I. </td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_1">1</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“He came down to see the place”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_2">2</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Mr. and Mrs. Bennet</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_5">5</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_6">6</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“I’m the tallest”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_9">9</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“He rode a black horse”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_10">10</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“When the party entered”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_12">12</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“She is tolerable”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_15">15</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter IV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_18">18</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter V.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_22">22</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Without once opening his lips”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_24">24</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Tailpiece to Chapter V.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_26">26</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter VI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_27">27</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“The entreaties of several”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_31">31</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“A note for Miss Bennet”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_36">36</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Cheerful prognostics”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_40">40</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“The apothecary came”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_43">43</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Covering a screen”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_45">45</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Mrs. Bennet and her two youngest girls”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_53">53</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter X.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_60">60</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“No, no; stay where you are”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_67">67</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Piling up the fire”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_69">69</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XII.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_75">75</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XIII.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_78">78</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XIV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_84">84</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Protested that he never read novels”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_87">87</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_89">89</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XVI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_95">95</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“The officers of the ——shire”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_97">97</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Delighted to see their dear friend again”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_108">108</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XVIII.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_113">113</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Such very superior dancing is not often seen”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_118">118</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“To assure you in the most animated language”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_132">132</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XX.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_139">139</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“They entered the breakfast-room”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_143">143</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_146">146</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Walked back with them”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_148">148</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXII.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_154">154</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“So much love and eloquence”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_156">156</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Protested he must be entirely mistaken”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_161">161</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Whenever she spoke in a low voice”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_166">166</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXIV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_168">168</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_175">175</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Offended two or three young ladies”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_177">177</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Will you come and see me?”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_181">181</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“On the stairs”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_189">189</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“At the door”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_194">194</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“In conversation with the ladies”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_198">198</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Lady Catherine,” said she, “you have given me a treasure”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_200">200</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXX.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_209">209</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“He never failed to inform them”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_211">211</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“The gentlemen accompanied him”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_213">213</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXXI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_215">215</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXXII.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_221">221</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Accompanied by their aunt”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_225">225</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“On looking up”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_228">228</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXXIV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_235">235</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Hearing herself called”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_243">243</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXXVI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_253">253</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Meeting accidentally in town”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_256">256</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“His parting obeisance”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_261">261</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Dawson”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_263">263</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“The elevation of his feelings”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_267">267</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“They had forgotten to leave any message”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_270">270</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“How nicely we are crammed in!”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_272">272</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XL.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_278">278</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“I am determined never to speak of it again”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_283">283</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“When Colonel Miller’s regiment went away”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_285">285</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Tenderly flirting”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_290">290</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>The arrival of the Gardiners</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_294">294</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Conjecturing as to the date”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_301">301</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XLIV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_318">318</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“To make herself agreeable to all”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_321">321</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Engaged by the river”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_327">327</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XLVI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_334">334</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“I have not an instant to lose”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_339">339</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“The first pleasing earnest of their welcome”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_345">345</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>The Post</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_359">359</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“To whom I have related the affair”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_363">363</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XLIX.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_368">368</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“But perhaps you would like to read it”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_370">370</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“The spiteful old ladies”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_377">377</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“With an affectionate smile”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_385">385</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“I am sure she did not listen”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_393">393</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Mr. Darcy with him”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_404">404</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Jane happened to look round”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_415">415</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Mrs. Long and her nieces”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_420">420</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak to you”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_422">422</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter LVI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_431">431</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“After a short survey”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_434">434</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“But now it comes out”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_442">442</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“The efforts of his aunt”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_448">448</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“Unable to utter a syllable”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_457">457</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>“The obsequious civility”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_466">466</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>Heading to Chapter LXI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_472">472</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td>The End</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_476">476</a></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_1">{1}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="Chapter_I"></a>
-<img src="images/i_030.jpg"
-height="550"
-alt="">
-<br><br>
-Chapter I.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span>T is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession
-of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.</p>
-
-<p>However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his
-first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds
-of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful
-property of some one or other of their daughters.</p>
-
-<p>“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that
-Netherfield Park is let at last?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_2">{2}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.</p>
-
-<p>“But it is,” returned she; “for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she
-told me all about it.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bennet made no answer.</p>
-
-<p>“Do not you want to know who has taken it?” cried his wife, impatiently.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>You</i> want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
-<img src="images/i_031.jpg" width="550" alt="">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>
-“He came down to see the place”<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>This was invitation enough.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken
-by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came
-down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much
-delighted with it that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is
-to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be
-in the house by the end of next week.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_3">{3}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“What is his name?”</p>
-
-<p>“Bingley.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is he married or single?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or
-five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!”</p>
-
-<p>“How so? how can it affect them?”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “how can you be so tiresome? You
-must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is that his design in settling here?”</p>
-
-<p>“Design? Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he
-<i>may</i> fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as
-soon as he comes.”</p>
-
-<p>“I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go—or you may send
-them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better; for as you are
-as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley might like you the best of the
-party.”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear, you flatter me. I certainly <i>have</i> had my share of beauty, but
-I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has five
-grown-up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty.”</p>
-
-<p>“In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of.”</p>
-
-<p>“But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into
-the neighbourhood.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is more than I engage for, I assure you.”</p>
-
-<p>“But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would
-be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go,
-merely on that account; for in general, you know, they visit no new<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_4">{4}</a></span>
-comers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for <i>us</i> to visit
-him, if you do not.”</p>
-
-<p>“You are over scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very
-glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my
-hearty consent to his marrying whichever he chooses of the girls—though
-I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.”</p>
-
-<p>“I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the
-others: and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so
-good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving <i>her</i> the preference.”</p>
-
-<p>“They have none of them much to recommend them,” replied he: “they are
-all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy has something more of
-quickness than her sisters.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take
-delight in vexing me. You have no compassion on my poor nerves.”</p>
-
-<p>“You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They
-are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration
-these twenty years at least.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, you do not know what I suffer.”</p>
-
-<p>“But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four
-thousand a year come into the neighbourhood.”</p>
-
-<p>“It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not
-visit them.”</p>
-
-<p>“Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them
-all.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour,
-reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had
-been insufficient to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_5">{5}</a></span> make his wife understand his character. <i>Her</i> mind
-was less difficult to develope. She was a woman of mean understanding,
-little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she
-fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her
-daughters married: its solace was visiting and news.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 444px;">
-<img src="images/i_034.jpg" width="444" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption"><p>M<sup>r.</sup> & M<sup>rs.</sup> Bennet</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_6">{6}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_II"></a><img src="images/i_035_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<span class="caption">
-I hope Mr. Bingley will like it.
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER II.
-</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_035_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="M"></span>R. BENNET was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley. He
-had always intended to visit him, though to the last always assuring his
-wife that he should not go; and till the evening after the visit was
-paid she had no knowledge of it. It was then disclosed in the following
-manner. Observing his second daughter employed in trimming a hat, he
-suddenly addressed her with,—</p>
-
-<p>“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.”</p>
-
-<p>“We are not in a way to know <i>what</i> Mr. Bingley likes,” said her mother,
-resentfully, “since we are not to visit.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_7">{7}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“But you forget, mamma,” said Elizabeth, “that we shall meet him at the
-assemblies, and that Mrs. Long has promised to introduce him.”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two nieces
-of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion
-of her.”</p>
-
-<p>“No more have I,” said Mr. Bennet; “and I am glad to find that you do
-not depend on her serving you.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply; but, unable to contain
-herself, began scolding one of her daughters.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t keep coughing so, Kitty, for heaven’s sake! Have a little
-compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.”</p>
-
-<p>“Kitty has no discretion in her coughs,” said her father; “she times
-them ill.”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not cough for my own amusement,” replied Kitty, fretfully. “When
-is your next ball to be, Lizzy?”</p>
-
-<p>“To-morrow fortnight.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ay, so it is,” cried her mother, “and Mrs. Long does not come back till
-the day before; so, it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for
-she will not know him herself.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce
-Mr. Bingley to <i>her</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>“Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him
-myself; how can you be so teasing?”</p>
-
-<p>“I honour your circumspection. A fortnight’s acquaintance is certainly
-very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a
-fortnight. But if <i>we</i> do not venture, somebody else will; and after
-all, Mrs. Long and her nieces must stand their chance; and, therefore,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_8">{8}</a></span>
-as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I
-will take it on myself.”</p>
-
-<p>The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only, “Nonsense,
-nonsense!”</p>
-
-<p>“What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?” cried he. “Do
-you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on
-them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you <i>there</i>. What say you,
-Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read
-great books, and make extracts.”</p>
-
-<p>Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how.</p>
-
-<p>“While Mary is adjusting her ideas,” he continued, “let us return to Mr.
-Bingley.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am sick of Mr. Bingley,” cried his wife.</p>
-
-<p>“I am sorry to hear <i>that</i>; but why did you not tell me so before? If I
-had known as much this morning, I certainly would not have called on
-him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we
-cannot escape the acquaintance now.”</p>
-
-<p>The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished—that of Mrs.
-Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though when the first tumult of joy
-was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the
-while.</p>
-
-<p>“How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should
-persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well to
-neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! And it is such a
-good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning, and never said a
-word about it till now.”</p>
-
-<p>“Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose,” said Mr. Bennet; and,
-as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_9">{9}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“What an excellent father you have, girls,” said she, when the door was
-shut. “I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness;
-or me either, for that matter. At our time of life, it is not so
-pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances every day; but
-for your sakes we would do anything. Lydia, my love, though you <i>are</i>
-the youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next
-ball.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh,” said Lydia, stoutly, “I am not afraid; for though I <i>am</i> the
-youngest, I’m the tallest.”</p>
-
-<p>The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he would
-return Mr. Bennet’s visit, and determining when they should ask him to
-dinner.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 386px;">
-<img src="images/i_038.jpg" width="386" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption"><p>“I’m the tallest<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_10">{10}</a></span>”</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_III"></a><img src="images/i_039_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-He rode a black horse.
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER III.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_039_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="N"></span>OT all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five
-daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw from her
-husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. They attacked him
-in various ways, with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and
-distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all; and they were at<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_11">{11}</a></span>
-last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour,
-Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable. Sir William had been
-delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely
-agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly
-with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of
-dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively
-hopes of Mr. Bingley’s heart were entertained.</p>
-
-<p>“If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,”
-said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well
-married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”</p>
-
-<p>In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet’s visit, and sat about ten
-minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being
-admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard
-much; but he saw only the father. The ladies were somewhat more
-fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining, from an upper
-window, that he wore a blue coat and rode a black horse.</p>
-
-<p>An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards despatched; and already had
-Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her
-housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Bingley
-was obliged to be in town the following day, and consequently unable to
-accept the honour of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite
-disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town
-so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that
-he might always be flying about from one place to another, and never
-settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Lucas quieted her fears a
-little by starting the idea of his<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_12">{12}</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 374px;">
-<img src="images/i_041.jpg" width="374" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p>“When the Party entered”</p></div>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="nind">being gone to London only to get a large party for the ball; and a
-report soon followed that Mr. Bingley was to bring twelve ladies and
-seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls grieved over such a
-number of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_13">{13}</a></span> ladies; but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing
-that, instead of twelve, he had brought only six with him from London,
-his five sisters and a cousin. And when the party entered the
-assembly-room, it consisted of only five altogether: Mr. Bingley, his
-two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and another young man.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike: he had a pleasant
-countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women,
-with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely
-looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention
-of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and
-the report, which was in general circulation within five minutes after
-his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. The gentlemen
-pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was
-much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great
-admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust
-which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be
-proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his
-large estate in Derbyshire could save him from having a most forbidding,
-disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his
-friend.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal
-people in the room: he was lively and unreserved, danced every dance,
-was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one
-himself at Netherfield. Such amiable qualities must speak for
-themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced
-only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being
-introduced to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_14">{14}</a></span> any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in
-walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party.
-His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in
-the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again.
-Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of
-his general behaviour was sharpened into particular resentment by his
-having slighted one of her daughters.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit
-down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr. Darcy had been
-standing near enough for her to overhear a conversation between him and
-Mr. Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes to press his
-friend to join it.</p>
-
-<p>“Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you
-standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better
-dance.”</p>
-
-<p>“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am
-particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it
-would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not
-another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to
-stand up with.”</p>
-
-<p>“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Bingley, “for a
-kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my
-life as I have this evening; and there are several of them, you see,
-uncommonly pretty.”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>You</i> are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr.
-Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_15">{15}</a></span> But there is one
-of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I
-dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 456px;">
-<img src="images/i_044.jpg" width="456" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>
-“She is tolerable”<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Which do you mean?” and turning round, he looked for a moment at
-Elizabeth, till, catching her eye, he withdrew his own, and coldly said,
-“She is tolerable: but not handsome enough to tempt <i>me</i>; and I am in no
-humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted
-by other men. You had better return to your<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_16">{16}</a></span> partner and enjoy her
-smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth
-remained with no very cordial feelings towards him. She told the story,
-however, with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively,
-playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.</p>
-
-<p>The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs.
-Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield
-party. Mr. Bingley had danced with her twice, and she had been
-distinguished by his sisters. Jane was as much gratified by this as her
-mother could be, though in a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane’s
-pleasure. Mary had heard herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most
-accomplished girl in the neighbourhood; and Catherine and Lydia had been
-fortunate enough to be never without partners, which was all that they
-had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned, therefore, in good
-spirits to Longbourn, the village where they lived, and of which they
-were the principal inhabitants. They found Mr. Bennet still up. With a
-book, he was regardless of time; and on the present occasion he had a
-good deal of curiosity as to the event of an evening which had raised
-such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that all his wife’s
-views on the stranger would be disappointed; but he soon found that he
-had a very different story to hear.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, my dear Mr. Bennet,” as she entered the room, “we have had a most
-delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there.
-Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it. Everybody said how well
-she looked; and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with
-her twice. Only think of <i>that</i>, my dear: he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_17">{17}</a></span> actually danced with her
-twice; and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second
-time. First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand
-up with her; but, however, he did not admire her at all; indeed, nobody
-can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was going
-down the dance. So he inquired who she was, and got introduced, and
-asked her for the two next. Then, the two third he danced with Miss
-King, and the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane
-again, and the two sixth with Lizzy, and the <i>Boulanger</i>——”</p>
-
-<p>“If he had had any compassion for <i>me</i>,” cried her husband impatiently,
-“he would not have danced half so much! For God’s sake, say no more of
-his partners. O that he had sprained his ancle in the first dance!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, my dear,” continued Mrs. Bennet, “I am quite delighted with him. He
-is so excessively handsome! and his sisters are charming women. I never
-in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses. I dare say the
-lace upon Mrs. Hurst’s gown——”</p>
-
-<p>Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet protested against any
-description of finery. She was therefore obliged to seek another branch
-of the subject, and related, with much bitterness of spirit, and some
-exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. Darcy.</p>
-
-<p>“But I can assure you,” she added, “that Lizzy does not lose much by not
-suiting <i>his</i> fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at
-all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited, that there was no enduring
-him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very
-great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my
-dear, to have given him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_18">{18}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_IV"></a><img src="images/i_047_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_047_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="W"></span>HEN Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in
-her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister how very much
-she admired him.</p>
-
-<p>“He is just what a young-man ought to be,” said she, “sensible,
-good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! so much ease,
-with such perfect good breeding!”</p>
-
-<p>“He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man ought
-likewise to be if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete.”</p>
-
-<p>“I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I
-did not expect such a compliment.”</p>
-
-<p>“Did not you? <i>I</i> did for you. But that is one great difference between
-us. Compliments always take <i>you</i> by surprise, and <i>me</i> never. What
-could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help
-seeing that you<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_19">{19}</a></span> were about five times as pretty as every other woman in
-the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is
-very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a
-stupider person.”</p>
-
-<p>“Dear Lizzy!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general.
-You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable
-in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in my life.”</p>
-
-<p>“I would wish not to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always speak
-what I think.”</p>
-
-<p>“I know you do: and it is <i>that</i> which makes the wonder. With <i>your</i>
-good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of
-others! Affectation of candour is common enough; one meets with it
-everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design,—to take the
-good of everybody’s character and make it still better, and say nothing
-of the bad,—belongs to you alone. And so, you like this man’s sisters,
-too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his.”</p>
-
-<p>“Certainly not, at first; but they are very pleasing women when you
-converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother, and keep
-his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming
-neighbour in her.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced: their behaviour at
-the assembly had not been calculated to please in general; and with more
-quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than her sister, and
-with a judgment, too, unassailed by any attention to herself, she was
-very little disposed to approve them. They were, in fact, very fine
-ladies; not deficient in good-humour when they were pleased, nor in the
-power<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_20">{20}</a></span> of being agreeable where they chose it; but proud and conceited.
-They were rather handsome; had been educated in one of the first private
-seminaries in town; had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds; were in the
-habit of spending more than they ought, and of associating with people
-of rank; and were, therefore, in every respect entitled to think well of
-themselves and meanly of others. They were of a respectable family in
-the north of England; a circumstance more deeply impressed on their
-memories than that their brother’s fortune and their own had been
-acquired by trade.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly a hundred
-thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate,
-but did not live to do it. Mr. Bingley intended it likewise, and
-sometimes made choice of his county; but, as he was now provided with a
-good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those
-who best knew the easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the
-remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to
-purchase.</p>
-
-<p>His sisters were very anxious for his having an estate of his own; but
-though he was now established only as a tenant, Miss Bingley was by no
-means unwilling to preside at his table; nor was Mrs. Hurst, who had
-married a man of more fashion than fortune, less disposed to consider
-his house as her home when it suited her. Mr. Bingley had not been of
-age two years when he was tempted, by an accidental recommendation, to
-look at Netherfield House. He did look at it, and into it, for half an
-hour; was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied
-with what the owner said in its praise, and took it immediately.</p>
-
-<p>Between him and Darcy there was a very steady<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_21">{21}</a></span> friendship, in spite of a
-great opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the
-easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, though no disposition
-could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he
-never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy’s regard, Bingley
-had the firmest reliance, and of his judgment the highest opinion. In
-understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means
-deficient; but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty,
-reserved, and fastidious; and his manners, though well bred, were not
-inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley
-was sure of being liked wherever he appeared; Darcy was continually
-giving offence.</p>
-
-<p>The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently
-characteristic. Bingley had never met with pleasanter people or prettier
-girls in his life; everybody had been most kind and attentive to him;
-there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted
-with all the room; and as to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel
-more beautiful. Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people
-in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had
-felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or
-pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty; but she smiled too
-much.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so; but still they admired
-her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet girl, and one whom
-they should not object to know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore
-established as a sweet girl; and their brother felt authorized by such
-commendation to think of her as he chose.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_22">{22}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_V"></a><img src="images/i_051_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>
-CHAPTER V.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_051_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="W"></span>ITHIN a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the Bennets
-were particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas had been formerly in trade
-in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune, and risen to the
-honour of knighthood by an address to the king during his mayoralty. The
-distinction had, perhaps, been felt too strongly. It had given him a
-disgust to his business and to his residence in a small market town;
-and, quitting them both, he had removed with his family to a house about
-a mile from Meryton, denominated from that period Lucas Lodge; where he
-could think with pleasure of his own importance, and, unshackled by
-business, occupy himself solely in being civil to all the world. For,
-though elated by his rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the
-contrary, he was all attention to everybody. By nature inoffensive,
-friendly, and obliging, his presentation at St. James’s had made him
-courteous.</p>
-
-<p>Lady Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not too<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_23">{23}</a></span> 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.</p>
-
-<p>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.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>You</i> began the evening well, Charlotte,” said Mrs. Bennet, with civil
-self-command, to Miss Lucas. “<i>You</i> were Mr. Bingley’s first choice.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; but he seemed to like his second better.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, you mean Jane, I suppose, because he danced with her twice. To be
-sure that <i>did</i> seem as if he admired her—indeed, I rather believe he
-<i>did</i>—I heard something about it—but I hardly know what—something
-about Mr. Robinson.”</p>
-
-<p>“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 <i>which</i> 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.’<span class="lftspc">”</span></p>
-
-<p>“Upon my word! Well, that was very decided, indeed—that does seem as
-if—but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know.”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>My</i> overhearings were more to the purpose than <i>yours</i>, Eliza,” said
-Charlotte. “Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to as his friend,
-is he? Poor Eliza! to be only just <i>tolerable</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>“I beg you will not put it into Lizzy’s head to be<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_24">{24}</a></span> vexed by his
-ill-treatment, for he is such a disagreeable man that it would be quite
-a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he
-sat close to her for half an hour without once opening his lips.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 354px;">
-<img src="images/i_053.jpg" width="354" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption"><p>“Without once opening his lips”</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Are you quite sure, ma’am? Is not there a little mistake?” said Jane.
-“I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ay, because she asked him at last how he liked<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_25">{25}</a></span> Netherfield, and he
-could not help answering her; but she said he seemed very angry at being
-spoke to.”</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much unless
-among his intimate acquaintance. With <i>them</i> he is remarkably
-agreeable.”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very
-agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it
-was; everybody says that he is eat up with pride, and I dare say he had
-heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had to come
-to the ball in a hack chaise.”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long,” said Miss Lucas, “but I
-wish he had danced with Eliza.”</p>
-
-<p>“Another time, Lizzy,” said her mother, “I would not dance with <i>him</i>,
-if I were you.”</p>
-
-<p>“I believe, ma’am, I may safely promise you <i>never</i> to dance with him.”</p>
-
-<p>“His pride,” said Miss Lucas, “does not offend <i>me</i> so much as pride
-often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so
-very fine a young man, with family, fortune, everything in his favour,
-should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a <i>right</i>
-to be proud.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is very true,” replied Elizabeth, “and I could easily forgive
-<i>his</i> pride, if he had not mortified <i>mine</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pride,” observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her
-reflections, “is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have
-ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human
-nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us
-who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some
-quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different
-things, though the words are often<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_26">{26}</a></span> used synonymously. A person may be
-proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of
-ourselves; vanity to what we would have others think of us.”</p>
-
-<p>“If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy,” cried a young Lucas, who came with his
-sisters, “I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of
-foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine every day.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought,” said Mrs.
-Bennet; “and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle
-directly.”</p>
-
-<p>The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she
-would; and the argument ended only with the visit.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
-<img src="images/i_055.jpg" width="550" height="513" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_27">{27}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_VI"></a><img src="images/i_056_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_056_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="T"></span>HE ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit
-was returned in due form. Miss Bennet’s pleasing manners grew on the
-good-will of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and though the mother was
-found to be intolerable, and the younger sisters not worth speaking to,
-a wish of being better acquainted with <i>them</i> was expressed towards the
-two eldest. By Jane this attention was received with the greatest
-pleasure; but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their treatment of
-everybody, hardly excepting even her sister, and could not like them;
-though their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value, as arising,
-in all probability, from the influence of their brother’s admiration. It
-was generally evident, whenever they met, that he <i>did</i> admire her; and
-to <i>her</i> it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference
-which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a
-way to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure that it
-was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane
-united with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and an
-uniform cheerfulness of manner, which would guard<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_28">{28}</a></span> her from the
-suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend, Miss
-Lucas.</p>
-
-<p>“It may, perhaps, be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to impose
-on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be
-so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill
-from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and
-it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the
-dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every
-attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all
-<i>begin</i> freely—a slight preference is natural enough; but there are
-very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without
-encouragement. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better show <i>more</i>
-affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he
-may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on.”</p>
-
-<p>“But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If <i>I</i> can
-perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton indeed not to
-discover it too.”</p>
-
-<p>“Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane’s disposition as you do.”</p>
-
-<p>“But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavor to conceal
-it, he must find it out.”</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But though Bingley and Jane
-meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and as they
-always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that
-every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should
-therefore make the most of every half hour in which she can command his
-attention. When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling
-in love as much as she chooses.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_29">{29}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Your plan is a good one,” replied Elizabeth, “where nothing is in
-question but the desire of being well married; and if I were determined
-to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But
-these are not Jane’s feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet she
-cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard, nor of its
-reasonableness. She has known him only a fortnight. She danced four
-dances with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house,
-and has since dined in company with him four times. This is not quite
-enough to make her understand his character.”</p>
-
-<p>“Not as you represent it. Had she merely <i>dined</i> with him, she might
-only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but you must
-remember that four evenings have been also spent together—and four
-evenings may do a great deal.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes: these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both
-like Vingt-un better than Commerce, but with respect to any other
-leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” said Charlotte, “I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if
-she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a
-chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a
-twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If
-the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or
-ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the
-least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to
-have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as
-possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your
-life.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_30">{30}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not
-sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself.”</p>
-
-<p>Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley’s attention to her sister, Elizabeth
-was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some
-interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely
-allowed her to be pretty: he had looked at her without admiration at the
-ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no
-sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had
-hardly a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered
-uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To
-this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had
-detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry
-in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and
-pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those
-of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of
-this she was perfectly unaware: to her he was only the man who made
-himself agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought her handsome enough
-to dance with.</p>
-
-<p>He began to wish to know more of her; and, as a step towards conversing
-with her himself, attended to her conversation with others. His doing so
-drew her notice. It was at Sir William Lucas’s, where a large party were
-assembled.</p>
-
-<p>“What does Mr. Darcy mean,” said she to Charlotte, “by listening to my
-conversation with Colonel Forster?”</p>
-
-<p>“That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer.”</p>
-
-<p>“But if he does it any more, I shall certainly let him know that I see
-what he is about. He has a very<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_31">{31}</a></span> satirical eye, and if I do not begin by
-being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
-<img src="images/i_060.jpg" width="550" height="547" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption"><p>“The entreaties of several” [<i>Copyright 1894 by George
-Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have
-any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such
-a subject to him, which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she
-turned to him and said,—</p>
-
-<p>“Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well
-just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at
-Meryton?”</p>
-
-<p>“With great energy; but it is a subject which always makes a lady
-energetic.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_32">{32}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“You are severe on us.”</p>
-
-<p>“It will be <i>her</i> turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas. “I am going
-to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.”</p>
-
-<p>“You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!—always wanting me
-to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a
-musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would
-really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of
-hearing the very best performers.” On Miss Lucas’s persevering, however,
-she added, “Very well; if it must be so, it must.” And gravely glancing
-at Mr. Darcy, “There is a very fine old saying, which everybody here is
-of course familiar with—‘Keep your breath to cool your porridge,’—and
-I shall keep mine to swell my song.”</p>
-
-<p>Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song
-or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she
-would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her
-sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in
-the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always
-impatient for display.</p>
-
-<p>Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her
-application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited
-manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she
-had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with
-much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the
-end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by
-Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who with
-some of the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in
-dancing at one end of the room.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_33">{33}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of
-passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too
-much engrossed by his own thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas
-was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began:—</p>
-
-<p>“What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is
-nothing like dancing, after all. I consider it as one of the first
-refinements of polished societies.”</p>
-
-<p>“Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst
-the less polished societies of the world: every savage can dance.”</p>
-
-<p>Sir William only smiled. “Your friend performs delightfully,” he
-continued, after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; “and I doubt
-not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy.”</p>
-
-<p>“You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do
-you often dance at St. James’s?”</p>
-
-<p>“Never, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?”</p>
-
-<p>“It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it.”</p>
-
-<p>“You have a house in town, I conclude?”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Darcy bowed.</p>
-
-<p>“I had once some thoughts of fixing in town myself, for I am fond of
-superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of
-London would agree with Lady Lucas.”</p>
-
-<p>He paused in hopes of an answer: but his companion was not disposed to
-make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving towards them, he was
-struck with the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_34">{34}</a></span> notion of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to
-her,—</p>
-
-<p>“My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow
-me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You
-cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.”
-And, taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy, who, though
-extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly
-drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William,—</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you
-not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the honour of
-her hand, but in vain. Elizabeth was determined; nor did Sir William at
-all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion.</p>
-
-<p>“You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me
-the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the
-amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us
-for one half hour.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Darcy is all politeness,” said Elizabeth, smiling.</p>
-
-<p>“He is, indeed: but considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we
-cannot wonder at his complaisance; for who would object to such a
-partner?”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not injured
-her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her with some
-complacency, when thus accosted by Miss Bingley,—</p>
-
-<p>“I can guess the subject of your reverie.”</p>
-
-<p>“I should imagine not.”</p>
-
-<p>“You are considering how insupportable it would be<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_35">{35}</a></span> to pass many
-evenings in this manner,—in such society; and, indeed, I am quite of
-your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the
-noise—the nothingness, and yet the self-importance, of all these
-people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!”</p>
-
-<p>“Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more
-agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure
-which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.”</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he
-would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections.
-Mr. Darcy replied, with great intrepidity,—</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” repeated Miss Bingley. “I am all astonishment.
-How long has she been such a favourite? and pray when am I to wish you
-joy?”</p>
-
-<p>“That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady’s
-imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love
-to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.”</p>
-
-<p>“Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter as
-absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed, and
-of course she will be always at Pemberley with you.”</p>
-
-<p>He listened to her with perfect indifference, while she chose to
-entertain herself in this manner; and as his composure convinced her
-that all was safe, her wit flowed along.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_36">{36}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_VII"></a><img src="images/i_065_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br>
-<span class="caption">
-A note for Miss Bennet.
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_065_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="M"></span>R. BENNET’S property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two
-thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed,
-in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother’s
-fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply
-the deficiency of his. Her father had been an<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_37">{37}</a></span> attorney in Meryton, and
-had left her four thousand pounds.</p>
-
-<p>She had a sister married to a Mr. Philips, who had been a clerk to their
-father and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled in
-London in a respectable line of trade.</p>
-
-<p>The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most
-convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted
-thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt, and
-to a milliner’s shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family,
-Catherine and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions:
-their minds were more vacant than their sisters’, and when nothing
-better offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning
-hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and, however bare of
-news the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn
-some from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well supplied both
-with news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in
-the neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was
-the head-quarters.</p>
-
-<p>Their visits to Mrs. Philips were now productive of the most interesting
-intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of the
-officers’ names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret,
-and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Philips
-visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a source of felicity
-unknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr.
-Bingley’s large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their
-mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of
-an ensign.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_38">{38}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr.
-Bennet coolly observed,—</p>
-
-<p>“From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two
-of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but
-I am now convinced.”</p>
-
-<p>Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with perfect
-indifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter, and
-her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the
-next morning to London.</p>
-
-<p>“I am astonished, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that you should be so
-ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly
-of anybody’s children, it should not be of my own, however.”</p>
-
-<p>“If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; but as it happens, they are all of them very clever.”</p>
-
-<p>“This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I
-had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must
-so far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly
-foolish.”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of
-their father and mother. When they get to our age, I dare say they will
-not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I
-liked a red coat myself very well—and, indeed, so I do still at my
-heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year,
-should want one of my girls, I shall not say nay to him; and I thought
-Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William’s in
-his regimentals.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_39">{39}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Mamma,” cried Lydia, “my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain
-Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson’s as they did when they first
-came; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke’s library.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a
-note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited
-for an answer. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was
-eagerly calling out, while her daughter read,—</p>
-
-<p>“Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well,
-Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is from Miss Bingley,” said Jane, and then read it aloud.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind"> “My dear friend,</p>
-
-<p>“If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and
-me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our
-lives; for a whole day’s <i>tête-à-tête</i> between two women can never
-end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on the receipt of
-this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.
-Yours ever,</p>
-
-<p class="r">
-“<span class="smcap">Caroline Bingley</span>.”<br>
-</p></div>
-
-<p>“With the officers!” cried Lydia: “I wonder my aunt did not tell us of
-<i>that</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>“Dining out,” said Mrs. Bennet; “that is very unlucky.”</p>
-
-<p>“Can I have the carriage?” said Jane.</p>
-
-<p>“No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to
-rain; and then you must stay all night.”</p>
-
-<p>“That would be a good scheme,” said Elizabeth, “if you were sure that
-they would not offer to send her home.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_40">{40}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley’s chaise to go to Meryton;
-and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.”</p>
-
-<p>“I had much rather go in the coach.”</p>
-
-<p>“But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are
-wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are not they?”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 433px;">
-<img src="images/i_069.jpg" width="433" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption"><p>Cheerful prognostics</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.”</p>
-
-<p>“But if you have got them to-day,” said Elizabeth, “my mother’s purpose
-will be answered.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_41">{41}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses
-were engaged; Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her
-mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad
-day. Her hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before it
-rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was
-delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission;
-Jane certainly could not come back.</p>
-
-<p>“This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!” said Mrs. Bennet, more than
-once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next
-morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her
-contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield
-brought the following note for Elizabeth:—</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind">“My dearest Lizzie,</p>
-
-<p>“I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be
-imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will
-not hear of my returning home till I am better. They insist also on
-my seeing Mr. Jones—therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear
-of his having been to me—and, excepting a sore throat and a
-headache, there is not much the matter with me.</p>
-
-<p class="r">
-“Yours, etc.”<br>
-</p></div>
-
-<p>“Well, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note
-aloud, “if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness—if she
-should die—it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of
-Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I am not at all afraid of her dying. People do<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_42">{42}</a></span> not die of little
-trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays
-there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the
-carriage.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, determined to go to her, though the
-carriage was not to be had: and as she was no horsewoman, walking was
-her only alternative. She declared her resolution.</p>
-
-<p>“How can you be so silly,” cried her mother, “as to think of such a
-thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get
-there.”</p>
-
-<p>“I shall be very fit to see Jane—which is all I want.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,” said her father, “to send for the
-horses?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing,
-when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.”</p>
-
-<p>“I admire the activity of your benevolence,” observed Mary, “but every
-impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion,
-exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.”</p>
-
-<p>“We will go as far as Meryton with you,” said Catherine and Lydia.
-Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off
-together.</p>
-
-<p>“If we make haste,” said Lydia, as they walked along, “perhaps we may
-see something of Captain Carter, before he goes.”</p>
-
-<p>In Meryton they parted: the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one
-of the officers’ wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing
-field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing
-over puddles, with impatient activity, and finding herself at last
-within view of the house, with weary ancles, dirty stockings, and a face
-glowing with the warmth of exercise.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_43">{43}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>She was shown into the breakfast parlour, where all but Jane were
-assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise.
-That she should have walked three miles so early in the day in such
-dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and
-Miss Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt
-for it. She was received, however, very politely by them; and in their
-brother’s manners there was something better than politeness—there was
-good-humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst
-nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the
-brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion and doubt as to
-the occasion’s justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was
-thinking only of his breakfast.</p>
-
-<p>Her inquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss
-Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not well
-enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her
-immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving
-alarm or inconvenience, from expressing in her note how much she longed
-for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal,
-however, to much conversation; and when Miss Bingley left them together,
-could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude for the
-extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended
-her.</p>
-
-<div class="figleft" style="width: 257px;">
-<img src="images/i_073.jpg" width="257" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption"><p>
-“The Apothecary came”<br>
-</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>When breakfast was over, they were joined by the sisters; and Elizabeth
-began to like them herself, when she saw how much affection and
-solicitude they showed for Jane. The apothecary came; and having
-examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught a
-violent cold, and that they must endeavour to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_44">{44}</a></span> get the better of it;
-advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice
-was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head
-ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment, nor were
-the other ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had in fact
-nothing to do elsewhere.</p>
-
-<p>When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and very
-unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only
-wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern
-at parting with her that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer
-of the chaise into an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the
-present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was
-despatched to Longbourn, to acquaint the family with her stay, and bring
-back a supply of clothes.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_45">{45}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a><img src="images/i_074_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-Covering a screen.
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_074_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="A"></span>T five o’clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half-past six
-Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. 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.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_46">{46}</a></span> 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.</p>
-
-<p>Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could
-regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his
-attentions to herself most pleasing; and they prevented her feeling
-herself so much an intruder as she believed she was considered by the
-others. She had very little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was
-engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for 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.</p>
-
-<p>When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley
-began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were
-pronounced to be very bad indeed,—a mixture of pride and impertinence:
-she had no conversation, no style, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst
-thought the same, and added,—</p>
-
-<p>“She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent
-walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really
-looked almost wild.”</p>
-
-<p>“She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very
-nonsensical to come at all! Why must <i>she</i> be scampering about the
-country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowzy!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_47">{47}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep
-in mud, I am absolutely certain, and the gown which had been let down to
-hide it not doing its office.”</p>
-
-<p>“Your picture may be very exact, Louisa,” said Bingley; “but this was
-all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well
-when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite
-escaped my notice.”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>You</i> observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley; “and I am
-inclined to think that you would not wish to see <i>your sister</i> make such
-an exhibition.”</p>
-
-<p>“Certainly not.”</p>
-
-<p>“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.”</p>
-
-<p>“It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing,” said
-Bingley.</p>
-
-<p>“I am afraid, Mr. Darcy,” observed Miss Bingley, in a half whisper,
-“that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine
-eyes.”</p>
-
-<p>“Not at all,” he replied: “they were brightened by the exercise.” A
-short pause followed this speech, and Mrs. Hurst began again,—</p>
-
-<p>“I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet,—she is really a very sweet
-girl,—and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such
-a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no
-chance of it.”</p>
-
-<p>“I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in
-Meryton?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_48">{48}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is capital,” added her sister; and they both laughed heartily.</p>
-
-<p>“If they had uncles enough to fill <i>all</i> Cheapside,” cried Bingley, “it
-would not make them one jot less agreeable.”</p>
-
-<p>“But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any
-consideration in the world,” replied Darcy.</p>
-
-<p>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.</p>
-
-<p>With a renewal of tenderness, however, they repaired to her room on
-leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till summoned to coffee.
-She was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not quit her at all, till
-late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her asleep, and
-when it appeared to her rather right than pleasant that she should go
-down stairs herself. 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.</p>
-
-<p>“Do you prefer reading to cards?” said he; “that is rather singular.”</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, “despises cards. She is a great
-reader, and has no pleasure in anything else.”</p>
-
-<p>“I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,” cried<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_49">{49}</a></span> Elizabeth; “I
-am <i>not</i> a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.”</p>
-
-<p>“In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure,” said Bingley; “and
-I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards a table
-where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her
-others; all that his library afforded.</p>
-
-<p>“And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own
-credit; but I am an idle fellow; and though I have not many, I have more
-than I ever looked into.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those
-in the room.</p>
-
-<p>“I am astonished,” said Miss Bingley, “that my father should have left
-so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at
-Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!”</p>
-
-<p>“It ought to be good,” he replied: “it has been the work of many
-generations.”</p>
-
-<p>“And then you have added so much to it yourself—you are always buying
-books.”</p>
-
-<p>“I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as
-these.”</p>
-
-<p>“Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of
-that noble place. Charles, when you build <i>your</i> house, I wish it may be
-half as delightful as Pemberley.”</p>
-
-<p>“I wish it may.”</p>
-
-<p>“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.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_50">{50}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“With all my heart: I will buy Pemberley itself, if Darcy will sell it.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am talking of possibilities, Charles.”</p>
-
-<p>“Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get
-Pemberley by purchase than by imitation.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was so much caught by what passed, as to leave her very little
-attention for her book; and, soon laying it wholly aside, she drew near
-the card-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest
-sister, to observe the game.</p>
-
-<p>“Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?” said Miss Bingley: “will
-she be as tall as I am?”</p>
-
-<p>“I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height, or
-rather taller.”</p>
-
-<p>“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me
-so much. Such a countenance, such manners, and so extremely accomplished
-for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience
-to be so very accomplished as they all are.”</p>
-
-<p>“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and
-net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this; and I am
-sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without
-being informed that she was very accomplished.”</p>
-
-<p>“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has
-too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no
-otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen; but I am very
-far<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_51">{51}</a></span> from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I
-cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen in the whole range of my
-acquaintance that are really accomplished.”</p>
-
-<p>“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.</p>
-
-<p>“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your
-idea of an accomplished woman.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it.”</p>
-
-<p>“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.”</p>
-
-<p>“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.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am no longer surprised at your knowing <i>only</i> six accomplished women.
-I rather wonder now at your knowing <i>any</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>“Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all
-this?”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>I</i> never saw such a woman. <i>I</i> never saw such capacity, and taste, and
-application, and elegance, as you describe, united.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her
-implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who
-answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_52">{52}</a></span>
-bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all
-conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the
-room.</p>
-
-<p>“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.”</p>
-
-<p>“Undoubtedly,” replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed,
-“there is meanness in <i>all</i> the arts which ladies sometimes condescend
-to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is
-despicable.”</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to
-continue the subject.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and
-that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones’s being sent for
-immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no country advice could
-be of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most
-eminent physicians. This she would not hear of; but she was not so
-unwilling to comply with their brother’s proposal; and it was settled
-that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if Miss Bennet
-were not decidedly better. 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.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_53">{53}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_IX"></a><img src="images/i_082_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-Mrs Bennet and her two youngest girls.
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_082_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="E"></span>LIZABETH passed the chief of the night in her sister’s room, and in the
-morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the
-inquiries which she very early received from Mr. Bingley by a housemaid,
-and some time afterwards from the two elegant ladies who waited on his
-sisters. In spite of this amendment,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_54">{54}</a></span> however, she requested to have a
-note sent to Longbourn, desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her
-own judgment of her situation. The note was immediately despatched, and
-its contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her
-two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast.</p>
-
-<p>Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been
-very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her that her illness was
-not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her
-restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield. She
-would not listen, therefore, to her daughter’s proposal of being carried
-home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think
-it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, on Miss
-Bingley’s appearance and invitation, the mother and three daughters all
-attended her into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met them with hopes
-that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet worse than she expected.</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed I have, sir,” was her answer. “She is a great deal too ill to be
-moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass
-a little longer on your kindness.”</p>
-
-<p>“Removed!” cried Bingley. “It must not be thought of. My sister, I am
-sure, will not hear of her removal.”</p>
-
-<p>“You may depend upon it, madam,” said Miss Bingley, with cold civility,
-“that Miss Bennet shall receive every possible attention while she
-remains with us.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments.</p>
-
-<p>“I am sure,” she added, “if it was not for such good friends, I do not
-know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a
-vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is
-always<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_55">{55}</a></span> the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest
-temper I ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to
-<i>her</i>. You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect
-over that gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is
-equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I
-hope, though you have but a short lease.”</p>
-
-<p>“Whatever I do is done in a hurry,” replied he; “and therefore if I
-should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five
-minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,” said Elizabeth.</p>
-
-<p>“You begin to comprehend me, do you?” cried he, turning towards her.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh yes—I understand you perfectly.”</p>
-
-<p>“I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen
-through, I am afraid, is pitiful.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is as it happens. It does not necessarily follow that a deep,
-intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.”</p>
-
-<p>“Lizzy,” cried her mother, “remember where you are, and do not run on in
-the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.”</p>
-
-<p>“I did not know before,” continued Bingley, immediately, “that you were
-a studier of character. It must be an amusing study.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; but intricate characters are the <i>most</i> amusing. They have at
-least that advantage.”</p>
-
-<p>“The country,” said Darcy, “can in general supply but few subjects for
-such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and
-unvarying society.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_56">{56}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be
-observed in them for ever.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, indeed,” cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a
-country neighbourhood. “I assure you there is quite as much of <i>that</i>
-going on in the country as in town.”</p>
-
-<p>Everybody was surprised; and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment,
-turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete
-victory over him, continued her triumph,—</p>
-
-<p>“I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for
-my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal
-pleasanter, is not it, Mr. Bingley?”</p>
-
-<p>“When I am in the country,” he replied, “I never wish to leave it; and
-when I am in town, it is pretty much the same. They have each their
-advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ay, that is because you have the right disposition. But that
-gentleman,” looking at Darcy, “seemed to think the country was nothing
-at all.”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed, mamma, you are mistaken,” said Elizabeth, blushing for her
-mother. “You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there was not
-such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in town, which
-you must acknowledge to be true.”</p>
-
-<p>“Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with
-many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few
-neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families.”</p>
-
-<p>Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his
-countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her eye towards
-Mr. Darcy with a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_57">{57}</a></span> very expressive smile. Elizabeth, for the sake of
-saying something that might turn her mother’s thoughts, now asked her if
-Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since <i>her</i> coming away.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir
-William is, Mr. Bingley—is not he? so much the man of fashion! so
-genteel and so easy! He has always something to say to everybody. <i>That</i>
-is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very
-important and never open their mouths quite mistake the matter.”</p>
-
-<p>“Did Charlotte dine with you?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince-pies. For
-my part, Mr. Bingley, <i>I</i> always keep servants that can do their own
-work; <i>my</i> daughters are brought up differently. But everybody is to
-judge for themselves, and the Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I
-assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that <i>I</i> think
-Charlotte so <i>very</i> plain; but then she is our particular friend.”</p>
-
-<p>“She seems a very pleasant young woman,” said Bingley.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself
-has often said so, and envied me Jane’s beauty. I do not like to boast
-of my own child; but to be sure, Jane—one does not often see anybody
-better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own
-partiality. When she was only fifteen there was a gentleman at my
-brother Gardiner’s in town so much in love with her, that my
-sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away.
-But, however, he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he
-wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_58">{58}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“And so ended his affection,” said Elizabeth, impatiently. “There has
-been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first
-discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!”</p>
-
-<p>“I have been used to consider poetry as the <i>food</i> of love,” said Darcy.</p>
-
-<p>“Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is
-strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I
-am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.”</p>
-
-<p>Darcy only smiled; and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth
-tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to
-speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs.
-Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to
-Jane, with an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was
-unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be
-civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part,
-indeed, without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and
-soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of
-her daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to
-each other during the whole visit; and the result of it was, that the
-youngest should tax Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming
-into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.</p>
-
-<p>Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion
-and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose
-affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high
-animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the
-attentions of the officers, to whom her uncle’s good<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_59">{59}</a></span> dinners and her
-own easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was
-very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the
-ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be
-the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer
-to this sudden attack was delightful to her mother’s ear.</p>
-
-<p>“I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and, when
-your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of
-the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing while she is ill?”</p>
-
-<p>Lydia declared herself satisfied. “Oh yes—it would be much better to
-wait till Jane was well; and by that time, most likely, Captain Carter
-would be at Meryton again. And when you have given <i>your</i> ball,” she
-added, “I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel
-Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned
-instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations’ behaviour to the
-remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the latter of whom, however,
-could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of <i>her</i>, in spite of
-all Miss Bingley’s witticisms on <i>fine eyes</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_60">{60}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_X"></a><img src="images/i_089_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER X.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_089_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="T"></span>HE day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst and Miss
-Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who
-continued, though slowly, to mend; and, in the evening, Elizabeth joined
-their party in the drawing-room. The loo table, however, did not appear.
-Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching
-the progress of his letter, and repeatedly calling off his attention by
-messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and
-Mrs. Hurst was observing their game.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in
-attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual
-commendations of the lady either on his hand-writing, or on the evenness
-of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern
-with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was
-exactly in unison with her opinion of each.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_61">{61}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!”</p>
-
-<p>He made no answer.</p>
-
-<p>“You write uncommonly fast.”</p>
-
-<p>“You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.”</p>
-
-<p>“How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a
-year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!”</p>
-
-<p>“It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.”</p>
-
-<p>“I have already told her so once, by your desire.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend
-pens remarkably well.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you—but I always mend my own.”</p>
-
-<p>“How can you contrive to write so even?”</p>
-
-<p>He was silent.</p>
-
-<p>“Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp,
-and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful
-little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss
-Grantley’s.”</p>
-
-<p>“Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At
-present I have not room to do them justice.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you
-always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?”</p>
-
-<p>“They are generally long; but whether always charming, it is not for me
-to determine.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with
-ease cannot write ill.”</p>
-
-<p>“That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline,” cried her
-brother, “because he does <i>not</i> write with ease.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_62">{62}</a></span> He studies too much
-for words of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?”</p>
-
-<p>“My style of writing is very different from yours.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh,” cried Miss Bingley, “Charles writes in the most careless way
-imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest.”</p>
-
-<p>“My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them; by which
-means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents.”</p>
-
-<p>“Your humility, Mr. Bingley,” said Elizabeth, “must disarm reproof.”</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing is more deceitful,” said Darcy, “than the appearance of
-humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an
-indirect boast.”</p>
-
-<p>“And which of the two do you call <i>my</i> little recent piece of modesty?”</p>
-
-<p>“The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in
-writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of
-thought and carelessness of execution, which, if not estimable, you
-think at least highly interesting. The power of doing anything with
-quickness is always much prized by the possessor, and often without any
-attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs.
-Bennet this morning, that if you ever resolved on quitting Netherfield
-you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of
-panegyric, of compliment to yourself; and yet what is there so very
-laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business
-undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or anyone else?”</p>
-
-<p>“Nay,” cried Bingley, “this is too much, to remember at night all the
-foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon my honour, I
-believed what I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_63">{63}</a></span> said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this
-moment. At least, therefore, I did not assume the character of needless
-precipitance merely to show off before the ladies.”</p>
-
-<p>“I daresay you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you
-would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as
-dependent on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were
-mounting your horse, a friend were to say, ‘Bingley, you had better stay
-till next week,’ you would probably do it—you would probably not
-go—and, at another word, might stay a month.”</p>
-
-<p>“You have only proved by this,” cried Elizabeth, “that Mr. Bingley did
-not do justice to his own disposition. You have shown him off now much
-more than he did himself.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am exceedingly gratified,” said Bingley, “by your converting what my
-friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am
-afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means
-intend; for he would certainly think the better of me if, under such a
-circumstance, I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I
-could.”</p>
-
-<p>“Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intention
-as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Upon my word, I cannot exactly explain the matter—Darcy must speak for
-himself.”</p>
-
-<p>“You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to call mine,
-but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to
-stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet,
-that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_64">{64}</a></span> and
-the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering
-one argument in favour of its propriety.”</p>
-
-<p>“To yield readily—easily—to the <i>persuasion</i> of a friend is no merit
-with you.”</p>
-
-<p>“To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of
-either.”</p>
-
-<p>“You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of
-friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make
-one readily yield to a request, without waiting for arguments to reason
-one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have
-supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the
-circumstance occurs, before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour
-thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases, between friend and friend,
-where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no
-very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying
-with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange
-with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to
-appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting
-between the parties?”</p>
-
-<p>“By all means,” cried Bingley; “let us hear all the particulars, not
-forgetting their comparative height and size, for that will have more
-weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure
-you that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with
-myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not
-know a more awful object than Darcy on particular occasions, and in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_65">{65}</a></span>
-particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening,
-when he has nothing to do.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was
-rather offended, and therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly
-resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her
-brother for talking such nonsense.</p>
-
-<p>“I see your design, Bingley,” said his friend. “You dislike an argument,
-and want to silence this.”</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss
-Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very
-thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me.”</p>
-
-<p>“What you ask,” said Elizabeth, “is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr.
-Darcy had much better finish his letter.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter.</p>
-
-<p>When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth
-for the indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with alacrity to
-the pianoforte, and after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the
-way, which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she
-seated herself.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister; and while they were thus employed,
-Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music-books
-that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Darcy’s eyes were fixed
-on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of
-admiration to so great a man, and yet that he should look at her because
-he disliked her was still more strange. She could only imagine, however,
-at last, that she drew his notice because there was something about her
-more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in
-any other person present.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_66">{66}</a></span> The supposition did not pain her. She liked
-him too little to care for his approbation.</p>
-
-<p>After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a
-lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near
-Elizabeth, said to her,—</p>
-
-<p>“Do you not feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an
-opportunity of dancing a reel?”</p>
-
-<p>She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some
-surprise at her silence.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh,” said she, “I heard you before; but I could not immediately
-determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say ‘Yes,’
-that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always
-delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of
-their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell
-you that I do not want to dance a reel at all; and now despise me if you
-dare.”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed I do not dare.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his
-gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her
-manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody, and Darcy had
-never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really
-believed that, were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he
-should be in some danger.</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bingley saw, or suspected, enough to be jealous; and her great
-anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some
-assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth.</p>
-
-<p>She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by talking of
-their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance.</p>
-
-<p>“I hope,” said she, as they were walking together in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_67">{67}</a></span> the shrubbery the
-next day, “you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this
-desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue;
-and if you can compass it, to cure the younger girls of running after
-the officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to
-check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence,
-which your lady possesses.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 470px;">
-<img src="images/i_096.jpg" width="470" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p>“No, no; stay where you are”</p></div>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_68">{68}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Philips be placed
-in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the
-judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different
-lines. As for your Elizabeth’s picture, you must not attempt to have it
-taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?”</p>
-
-<p>“It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression; but their
-colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be
-copied.”</p>
-
-<p>At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst and
-Elizabeth herself.</p>
-
-<p>“I did not know that you intended to walk,” said Miss Bingley, in some
-confusion, lest they had been overheard.</p>
-
-<p>“You used us abominably ill,” answered Mrs. Hurst, “running away without
-telling us that you were coming out.”</p>
-
-<p>Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk
-by herself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt their rudeness,
-and immediately said,—</p>
-
-<p>“This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the
-avenue.”</p>
-
-<p>But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them,
-laughingly answered,—</p>
-
-<p>“No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to
-uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a
-fourth. Good-bye.”</p>
-
-<p>She then ran gaily off, rejoicing, as she rambled about, in the hope of
-being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already so much recovered
-as to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours that evening.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_69">{69}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XI"></a><img src="images/i_098_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-Piling up the fire.
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_098_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="W"></span>HEN the ladies removed after dinner Elizabeth ran up to her sister, and
-seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into the drawing-room,
-where she was welcomed by her two friends with many professions of
-pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable as they were
-during the hour which passed before the gentlemen appeared. Their powers
-of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment
-with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their
-acquaintance with spirit.</p>
-
-<p>But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_70">{70}</a></span> the first object;
-Miss Bingley’s eyes were instantly turned towards Darcy, and she had
-something to say to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed
-himself directly to Miss Bennet with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst
-also made her a slight bow, and said he was “very glad;” but diffuseness
-and warmth remained for Bingley’s salutation. He was full of joy and
-attention. The first half hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she
-should suffer from the change of room; and she removed, at his desire,
-to the other side of the fireplace, that she might be farther from the
-door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to anyone else.
-Elizabeth, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with great
-delight.</p>
-
-<p>When tea was over Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law of the
-card-table—but in vain. She had obtained private intelligence that Mr.
-Darcy did not wish for cards, and Mr. Hurst soon found even his open
-petition rejected. She assured him that no one intended to play, and the
-silence of the whole party on the subject seemed to justify her. Mr.
-Hurst had, therefore, nothing to do but to stretch himself on one of the
-sofas and go to sleep. Darcy took up a book. Miss Bingley did the same;
-and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her bracelets and
-rings, joined now and then in her brother’s conversation with Miss
-Bennet.</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr.
-Darcy’s progress through <i>his</i> book, as in reading her own; and she was
-perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She
-could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her
-question and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be
-amused with her own book, which she<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_71">{71}</a></span> had only chosen because it was the
-second volume of his, she gave a great yawn and said, “How pleasant it
-is to spend an evening in this way! I declare, after all, there is no
-enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a
-book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not
-an excellent library.”</p>
-
-<p>No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her book, and
-cast her eyes round the room in quest of some amusement; when, hearing
-her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly
-towards him and said,—</p>
-
-<p>“By the bye Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at
-Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult
-the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not
-some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a
-pleasure.”</p>
-
-<p>“If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he
-chooses, before it begins; but as for the ball, it is quite a settled
-thing, and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough I shall send
-round my cards.”</p>
-
-<p>“I should like balls infinitely better,” she replied, “if they were
-carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably
-tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much
-more rational if conversation instead of dancing made the order of the
-day.”</p>
-
-<p>“Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say; but it would not be
-near so much like a ball.”</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bingley made no answer, and soon afterwards got up and walked about
-the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but Darcy, at
-whom it was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_72">{72}</a></span> all aimed, was still inflexibly studious. In the
-desperation of her feelings, she resolved on one effort more; and,
-turning to Elizabeth, said,—</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a
-turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so
-long in one attitude.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss Bingley
-succeeded no less in the real object of her civility: Mr. Darcy looked
-up. He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as
-Elizabeth herself could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He was
-directly invited to join their party, but he declined it, observing that
-he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down
-the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would
-interfere. What could he mean? She was dying to know what could be his
-meaning—and asked Elizabeth whether she could at all understand him.</p>
-
-<p>“Not at all,” was her answer; “but, depend upon it, he means to be
-severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask
-nothing about it.”</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in
-anything, and persevered, therefore, in requiring an explanation of his
-two motives.</p>
-
-<p>“I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,” said he, as soon
-as she allowed him to speak. “You either choose this method of passing
-the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret
-affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures
-appear to the greatest advantage in walking: if the first, I should be
-completely in your way; and if the second, I can admire you much better
-as I sit by the fire.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, shocking!” cried Miss Bingley. “I never heard<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_73">{73}</a></span> anything so
-abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?”</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,” said Elizabeth. “We
-can all plague and punish one another. Tease him—laugh at him. Intimate
-as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”</p>
-
-<p>“But upon my honour I do <i>not</i>. I do assure you that my intimacy has not
-yet taught me <i>that</i>. Tease calmness of temper and presence of mind! No,
-no; I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose
-ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr.
-Darcy may hug himself.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!” cried Elizabeth. “That is an
-uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would
-be a great loss to <i>me</i> to have many such acquaintance. I dearly love a
-laugh.”</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Bingley,” said he, “has given me credit for more than can be. The
-wisest and best of men,—nay, the wisest and best of their actions,—may
-be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a
-joke.”</p>
-
-<p>“Certainly,” replied Elizabeth, “there are such people, but I hope I am
-not one of <i>them</i>. I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies
-and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, <i>do</i> divert me, I own, and I
-laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what
-you are without.”</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of
-my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong
-understanding to ridicule.”</p>
-
-<p>“Such as vanity and pride.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real
-superiority of mind—pride will be always under good regulation.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_74">{74}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.</p>
-
-<p>“Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume,” said Miss Bingley;
-“and pray what is the result?”</p>
-
-<p>“I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it
-himself without disguise.”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Darcy, “I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough,
-but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch
-for. It is, I believe, too little yielding; certainly too little for the
-convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of
-others so soon as I ought, nor their offences against myself. My
-feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper
-would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost for
-ever.”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>That</i> is a failing, indeed!” cried Elizabeth. “Implacable resentment
-<i>is</i> a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I
-really cannot <i>laugh</i> at it. You are safe from me.”</p>
-
-<p>“There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular
-evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”</p>
-
-<p>“And <i>your</i> defect is a propensity to hate everybody.”</p>
-
-<p>“And yours,” he replied, with a smile, “is wilfully to misunderstand
-them.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do let us have a little music,” cried Miss Bingley, tired of a
-conversation in which she had no share. “Louisa, you will not mind my
-waking Mr. Hurst.”</p>
-
-<p>Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was
-opened; and Darcy, after a few moments’ recollection, was not sorry for
-it. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_75">{75}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XII"></a><img src="images/i_104_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_104_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="I"></span>N consequence of an agreement between the sisters, Elizabeth wrote the
-next morning to her mother, to beg that the carriage might be sent for
-them in the course of the day. But Mrs. Bennet, who had calculated on
-her daughters remaining at Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which
-would exactly finish Jane’s week, could not bring herself to receive
-them with pleasure before. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at
-least not to Elizabeth’s wishes, for she was impatient to get home. Mrs.
-Bennet sent them word that they could not possibly have the carriage
-before Tuesday; and in her postscript it was added, that if Mr. Bingley
-and his sister pressed them to stay longer, she could spare them very
-well. Against staying longer, however, Elizabeth was positively<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_76">{76}</a></span>
-resolved—nor did she much expect it would be asked; and fearful, on the
-contrary, of being considered as intruding themselves needlessly long,
-she urged Jane to borrow Mr. Bingley’s carriage immediately, and at
-length it was settled that their original design of leaving Netherfield
-that morning should be mentioned, and the request made.</p>
-
-<p>The communication excited many professions of concern; and enough was
-said of wishing them to stay at least till the following day to work on
-Jane; and till the morrow their going was deferred. Miss Bingley was
-then sorry that she had proposed the delay; for her jealousy and dislike
-of one sister much exceeded her affection for the other.</p>
-
-<p>The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were to go so
-soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade Miss Bennet that it would not be
-safe for her—that she was not enough recovered; but Jane was firm where
-she felt herself to be right.</p>
-
-<p>To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence: Elizabeth had been at
-Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he liked; and Miss
-Bingley was uncivil to <i>her</i> and more teasing than usual to himself. He
-wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration
-should <i>now</i> escape him—nothing that could elevate her with the hope of
-influencing his felicity; sensible that, if such an idea had been
-suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material weight
-in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely spoke
-ten words to her through the whole of Saturday: and though they were at
-one time left by themselves for half an hour, he adhered most
-conscientiously to his book, and would not even look at her.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_77">{77}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable to almost
-all, took place. Miss Bingley’s civility to Elizabeth increased at last
-very rapidly, as well as her affection for Jane; and when they parted,
-after assuring the latter of the pleasure it would always give her to
-see her either at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most
-tenderly, she even shook hands with the former. Elizabeth took leave of
-the whole party in the liveliest spirits.</p>
-
-<p>They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother. Mrs. Bennet
-wondered at their coming, and thought them very wrong to give so much
-trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught cold again. But their
-father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really
-glad to see them; he had felt their importance in the family circle. The
-evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its
-animation, and almost all its sense, by the absence of Jane and
-Elizabeth.</p>
-
-<p>They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough bass and human
-nature; and had some new extracts to admire and some new observations of
-threadbare morality to listen to. Catherine and Lydia had information
-for them of a different sort. Much had been done, and much had been said
-in the regiment since the preceding Wednesday; several of the officers
-had dined lately with their uncle; a private had been flogged; and it
-had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_78">{78}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a><img src="images/i_107_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
-
-<p class="nind">
-<span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_107_b.png"
-width="70"
-alt="“I"></span>
-hope, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at
-breakfast the next morning, “that you have ordered a good dinner to-day,
-because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”</p>
-
-<p>“Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure,
-unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in; and I hope <i>my</i> dinners
-are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.”</p>
-
-<p>“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman and a stranger.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled. “A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr.
-Bingley, I am sure. Why, Jane—you never dropped a word of this—you sly
-thing! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley.
-But—good Lord! how unlucky! there is not a bit of fish to be got
-to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must speak to Hill this
-moment.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is <i>not</i> Mr. Bingley,” said her husband; “it is a person whom I
-never saw in the whole course of my life.”</p>
-
-<p>This roused a general astonishment; and he had the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_79">{79}</a></span> pleasure of being
-eagerly questioned by his wife and five daughters at once.</p>
-
-<p>After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus
-explained:—“About a month ago I received this letter, and about a
-fortnight ago I answered it; for I thought it a case of some delicacy,
-and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who,
-when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he
-pleases.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, my dear,” cried his wife, “I cannot bear to hear that mentioned.
-Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing
-in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own
-children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago
-to do something or other about it.”</p>
-
-<p>Jane and Elizabeth attempted to explain to her the nature of an entail.
-They had often attempted it before: but it was a subject on which Mrs.
-Bennet was beyond the reach of reason; and she continued to rail
-bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of
-five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.</p>
-
-<p>“It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,” said Mr. Bennet; “and
-nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn.
-But if you will listen to his letter, you may, perhaps, be a little
-softened by his manner of expressing himself.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, that I am sure I shall not: and I think it was very impertinent of
-him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false
-friends. Why could not he keep on quarrelling with you, as his father
-did before him?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, indeed, he does seem to have had some filial scruples on that
-head, as you will hear.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_80">{80}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p class="rt">“Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, <i>15th October</i>.</p>
-
-<p class="nind">
-“Dear Sir,<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>“The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured
-father always gave me much uneasiness; and, since I have had the
-misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the
-breach: but, for some time, I was kept back by my own doubts,
-fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be
-on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be
-at variance.”—‘There, Mrs. Bennet.’—“My mind, however, is now
-made up on the subject; for, having received ordination at Easter,
-I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of
-the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis
-de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the
-valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest
-endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her
-Ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies
-which are instituted by the Church of England. As a clergyman,
-moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing
-of peace in all families within the reach of my influence; and on
-these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures of
-good-will are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my
-being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly
-overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered
-olive branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the
-means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to
-apologize for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make
-them every possible amends; but of this hereafter. If you should
-have no objection to receive me into<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_81">{81}</a></span> your house, I propose myself
-the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday,
-November 18th, by four o’clock, and shall probably trespass on your
-hospitality till the Saturday se’nnight following, which I can do
-without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is far from objecting
-to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other
-clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day. I remain, dear sir,
-with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your
-well-wisher and friend,</p>
-
-<p class="r">
-“<span class="smcap">William Collins</span>.”<br>
-</p></div>
-
-<p>“At four o’clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman,”
-said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. “He seems to be a most
-conscientious and polite young man, upon my word; and, I doubt not, will
-prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be so
-indulgent as to let him come to us again.”</p>
-
-<p>“There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however; and, if
-he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to
-discourage him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Though it is difficult,” said Jane, “to guess in what way he can mean
-to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to his
-credit.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was chiefly struck with his extraordinary deference for Lady
-Catherine, and his kind intention of christening, marrying, and burying
-his parishioners whenever it were required.</p>
-
-<p>“He must be an oddity, I think,” said she. “I cannot make him out. There
-is something very pompous in his style. And what can he mean by
-apologizing for being next in the entail? We cannot suppose he would
-help it, if he could. Can he be a sensible man, sir?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, my dear; I think not. I have great hopes of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_82">{82}</a></span> finding him quite the
-reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his
-letter which promises well. I am impatient to see him.”</p>
-
-<p>“In point of composition,” said Mary, “his letter does not seem
-defective. The idea of the olive branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I
-think it is well expressed.”</p>
-
-<p>To Catherine and Lydia neither the letter nor its writer were in any
-degree interesting. It was next to impossible that their cousin should
-come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since they had
-received pleasure from the society of a man in any other colour. As for
-their mother, Mr. Collins’s letter had done away much of her ill-will,
-and she was preparing to see him with a degree of composure which
-astonished her husband and daughters.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great
-politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said little; but the
-ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins seemed neither in need
-of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall,
-heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and
-stately, and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated
-before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of
-daughters, said he had heard much of their beauty, but that, in this
-instance, fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that he did not
-doubt her seeing them all in due time well disposed of in marriage. This
-gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers; but Mrs.
-Bennet, who quarrelled with no compliments, answered most readily,—</p>
-
-<p>“You are very kind, sir, I am sure; and I wish with all<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_83">{83}</a></span> my heart it may
-prove so; for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so
-oddly.”</p>
-
-<p>“You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you
-must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with <i>you</i>, for such things,
-I know, are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates
-will go when once they come to be entailed.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and
-could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing
-forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come
-prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more, but, perhaps,
-when we are better acquainted——”</p>
-
-<p>He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; and the girls smiled on each
-other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Collins’s admiration. The
-hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture, were examined and praised;
-and his commendation of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet’s
-heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his
-own future property. The dinner, too, in its turn, was highly admired;
-and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellence of its
-cookery was owing. But here he was set right by Mrs. Bennet, who assured
-him, with some asperity, that they were very well able to keep a good
-cook, and that her daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen. He begged
-pardon for having displeased her. In a softened tone she declared
-herself not at all offended; but he continued to apologize for about a
-quarter of an hour.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_84">{84}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a><img src="images/i_113_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
-
-<p class="nind">
-<span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_113_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="D"></span>URING dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all; but when the servants
-were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some conversation with his
-guest, and therefore started a subject in which he expected him to
-shine, by observing that he seemed very fortunate in his patroness. Lady
-Catherine de Bourgh’s attention to his wishes, and consideration for his
-comfort, appeared very remarkable. Mr. Bennet could not have chosen
-better. Mr. Collins was eloquent in her praise. The subject elevated him
-to more than usual solemnity of manner; and with a most important aspect
-he protested that he had never in his life witnessed such behaviour in a
-person of rank—such affability and condescension, as he had himself
-experienced from Lady Catherine. She had been graciously pleased to
-approve of both the discourses which he had already had the honour of
-preaching before her. She had also asked him twice to dine at Rosings,
-and had sent for him only the Saturday before, to make up her pool of
-quadrille in the evening. Lady Catherine was reckoned proud by many
-people, he knew, but <i>he</i> had never seen anything but affability in her.
-She had always spoken to him as she would to any other gentleman; she
-made not the smallest objection to his joining in the society of the
-neighbourhood, nor to his leaving his parish occasionally<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_85">{85}</a></span> for a week or
-two to visit his relations. She had even condescended to advise him to
-marry as soon as he could, provided he chose with discretion; and had
-once paid him a visit in his humble parsonage, where she had perfectly
-approved all the alterations he had been making, and had even vouchsafed
-to suggest some herself,—some shelves in the closets upstairs.</p>
-
-<p>“That is all very proper and civil, I am sure,” said Mrs. Bennet, “and I
-dare say she is a very agreeable woman. It is a pity that great ladies
-in general are not more like her. Does she live near you, sir?”</p>
-
-<p>“The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only by a lane
-from Rosings Park, her Ladyship’s residence.”</p>
-
-<p>“I think you said she was a widow, sir? has she any family?”</p>
-
-<p>“She has one only daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very
-extensive property.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah,” cried Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, “then she is better off than
-many girls. And what sort of young lady is she? Is she handsome?”</p>
-
-<p>“She is a most charming young lady, indeed. Lady Catherine herself says
-that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the
-handsomest of her sex; because there is that in her features which marks
-the young woman of distinguished birth. She is unfortunately of a sickly
-constitution, which has prevented her making that progress in many
-accomplishments which she could not otherwise have failed of, as I am
-informed by the lady who superintended her education, and who still
-resides with them. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends
-to drive by my humble abode in her little phaeton and ponies.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_86">{86}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies at
-court.”</p>
-
-<p>“Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town;
-and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine myself one day, has deprived
-the British Court of its brightest ornament. Her Ladyship seemed pleased
-with the idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on every occasion to
-offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to
-ladies. I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that her
-charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess; and that the most
-elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, would be adorned by
-her. These are the kind of little things which please her Ladyship, and
-it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to
-pay.”</p>
-
-<p>“You judge very properly,” said Mr. Bennet; “and it is happy for you
-that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask
-whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the
-moment, or are the result of previous study?”</p>
-
-<p>“They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time; and though I
-sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant
-compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to
-give them as unstudied an air as possible.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bennet’s expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd
-as he had hoped; and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment,
-maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance,
-and, except in an occasional glance at Elizabeth, requiring no partner
-in his pleasure.</p>
-
-<p>By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_87">{87}</a></span> Mr. Bennet was glad
-to take his guest into the drawing-room again, and when tea was over,
-glad to invite him</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 361px;">
-<img src="images/i_116.jpg" width="361" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>
-“Protested<br>
-that he never read novels” H.T Feb 94<br>
-</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="nind">to read aloud to the ladies. Mr. Collins readily assented, and a book
-was produced; but on beholding it (for everything announced it to be
-from a circulating library)<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_88">{88}</a></span> he started back, and, begging pardon,
-protested that he never read novels. Kitty stared at him, and Lydia
-exclaimed. Other books were produced, and after some deliberation he
-chose “Fordyce’s Sermons.” Lydia gaped as he opened the volume; and
-before he had, with very monotonous solemnity, read three pages, she
-interrupted him with,—</p>
-
-<p>“Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Philips talks of turning away
-Richard? and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My aunt told me
-so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton to-morrow to hear more
-about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town.”</p>
-
-<p>Lydia was bid by her two eldest sisters to hold her tongue; but Mr.
-Collins, much offended, laid aside his book, and said,—</p>
-
-<p>“I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by books
-of a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. It amazes
-me, I confess; for certainly there can be nothing so advantageous to
-them as instruction. But I will no longer importune my young cousin.”</p>
-
-<p>Then, turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself as his antagonist at
-backgammon. Mr. Bennet accepted the challenge, observing that he acted
-very wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling amusements. Mrs.
-Bennet and her daughters apologized most civilly for Lydia’s
-interruption, and promised that it should not occur again, if he would
-resume his book; but Mr. Collins, after assuring them that he bore his
-young cousin no ill-will, and should never resent her behaviour as any
-affront, seated himself at another table with Mr. Bennet, and prepared
-for backgammon.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_89">{89}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XV"></a><img src="images/i_118_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_118_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="M"></span>R. COLLINS was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had
-been but little assisted by education or society; the greatest part of
-his life having been spent under the guidance of an illiterate and
-miserly father; and though he belonged to one of the universities, he
-had merely kept the necessary terms without forming at it any useful
-acquaintance. The subjection in which his father had brought him up had
-given him originally great humility of manner; but it was now a good
-deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head, living in
-retirement, and the consequential feelings of early and unexpected
-prosperity. A fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Catherine de
-Bourgh when the living of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which he
-felt for her high rank, and his veneration for her as his patroness,
-mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a
-clergyman, and his right as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of
-pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility.</p>
-
-<p>Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to
-marry; and in seeking a reconciliation with the Longbourn family he had
-a wife in view, as he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_90">{90}</a></span> meant to choose one of the daughters, if he found
-them as handsome and amiable as they were represented by common report.
-This was his plan of amends—of atonement—for inheriting their father’s
-estate; and he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility and
-suitableness, and excessively generous and disinterested on his own
-part.</p>
-
-<p>His plan did not vary on seeing them. Miss Bennet’s lovely face
-confirmed his views, and established all his strictest notions of what
-was due to seniority; and for the first evening <i>she</i> was his settled
-choice. The next morning, however, made an alteration; for in a quarter
-of an hour’s <i>tête-à-tête</i> with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast, a
-conversation beginning with his parsonage-house, and leading naturally
-to the avowal of his hopes, that a mistress for it might be found at
-Longbourn, produced from her, amid very complaisant smiles and general
-encouragement, a caution against the very Jane he had fixed on. “As to
-her <i>younger</i> daughters, she could not take upon her to say—she could
-not positively answer—but she did not <i>know</i> of any prepossession;—her
-<i>eldest</i> daughter she must just mention—she felt it incumbent on her to
-hint, was likely to be very soon engaged.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth—and it was soon
-done—done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. Elizabeth, equally
-next to Jane in birth and beauty, succeeded her of course.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon have
-two daughters married; and the man whom she could not bear to speak of
-the day before, was now high in her good graces.</p>
-
-<p>Lydia’s intention of walking to Meryton was not for<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_91">{91}</a></span>gotten: every sister
-except Mary agreed to go with her; and Mr. Collins was to attend them,
-at the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most anxious to get rid of him,
-and have his library to himself; for thither Mr. Collins had followed
-him after breakfast, and there he would continue, nominally engaged with
-one of the largest folios in the collection, but really talking to Mr.
-Bennet, with little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such
-doings discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his library he had been
-always sure of leisure and tranquillity; and though prepared, as he told
-Elizabeth, to meet with folly and conceit in every other room in the
-house, he was used to be free from them there: his civility, therefore,
-was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their
-walk; and Mr. Collins, being in fact much better fitted for a walker
-than a reader, was extremely well pleased to close his large book, and
-go.</p>
-
-<p>In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his
-cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton. The attention of
-the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by <i>him</i>. Their eyes
-were immediately wandering up the street in quest of the officers, and
-nothing less than a very smart bonnet, indeed, or a really new muslin in
-a shop window, could recall them.</p>
-
-<p>But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom
-they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking
-with an officer on the other side of the way. The officer was the very
-Mr. Denny concerning whose return from London Lydia came to inquire, and
-he bowed as they passed. All were struck with the stranger’s air, all
-wondered who he could be; and Kitty and Lydia, determined if possible<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_92">{92}</a></span>
-to find out, led the way across the street, under pretence of wanting
-something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the
-pavement, when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same
-spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and entreated permission to
-introduce his friend, Mr. Wickham, who had returned with him the day
-before from town, and, he was happy to say, had accepted a commission in
-their corps. This was exactly as it should be; for the young man wanted
-only regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was
-greatly in his favour: he had all the best parts of beauty, a fine
-countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction
-was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation—a
-readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the
-whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably,
-when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were
-seen riding down the street. On distinguishing the ladies of the group
-the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual
-civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the
-principal object. He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn on
-purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with a bow, and
-was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they
-were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger; and Elizabeth
-happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other,
-was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour,
-one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments,
-touched his hat—a salutation which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return.
-What could be the meaning of it?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_93">{93}</a></span> It was impossible to imagine; it was
-impossible not to long to know.</p>
-
-<p>In another minute Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have noticed what
-passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door of
-Mr. Philips’s house, and then made their bows, in spite of Miss Lydia’s
-pressing entreaties that they would come in, and even in spite of Mrs.
-Philips’s throwing up the parlour window, and loudly seconding the
-invitation.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Philips was always glad to see her nieces; and the two eldest, from
-their recent absence, were particularly welcome; and she was eagerly
-expressing her surprise at their sudden return home, which, as their own
-carriage had not fetched them, she should have known nothing about, if
-she had not happened to see Mr. Jones’s shopboy in the street, who had
-told her that they were not to send any more draughts to Netherfield,
-because the Miss Bennets were come away, when her civility was claimed
-towards Mr. Collins by Jane’s introduction of him. She received him with
-her very best politeness, which he returned with as much more,
-apologizing for his intrusion, without any previous acquaintance with
-her, which he could not help flattering himself, however, might be
-justified by his relationship to the young ladies who introduced him to
-her notice. Mrs. Philips was quite awed by such an excess of good
-breeding; but her contemplation of one stranger was soon put an end to
-by exclamations and inquiries about the other, of whom, however, she
-could only tell her nieces what they already knew, that Mr. Denny had
-brought him from London, and that he was to have a lieutenant’s
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_94">{94}</a></span>commission in the ——shire. She had been watching him the last hour,
-she said, as he walked up and down the street,—and had Mr. Wickham
-appeared, Kitty and Lydia would certainly have continued the occupation;
-but unluckily no one passed the windows now except a few of the
-officers, who, in comparison with the stranger, were become “stupid,
-disagreeable fellows.” Some of them were to dine with the Philipses the
-next day, and their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr.
-Wickham, and give him an invitation also, if the family from Longbourn
-would come in the evening. This was agreed to; and Mrs. Philips
-protested that they would have a nice comfortable noisy game of lottery
-tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards. The prospect of such
-delights was very cheering, and they parted in mutual good spirits. Mr.
-Collins repeated his apologies in quitting the room, and was assured,
-with unwearying civility, that they were perfectly needless.</p>
-
-<p>As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what she had seen pass
-between the two gentlemen; but though Jane would have defended either or
-both, had they appeared to be wrong, she could no more explain such
-behaviour than her sister.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Collins on his return highly gratified Mrs. Bennet by admiring Mrs.
-Philips’s manners and politeness. He protested that, except Lady
-Catherine and her daughter, he had never seen a more elegant woman; for
-she had not only received him with the utmost civility, but had even
-pointedly included him in her invitation for the next evening, although
-utterly unknown to her before. Something, he supposed, might be
-attributed to his connection with them, but yet he had never met with so
-much attention in the whole course of his life.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_95">{95}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a><img src="images/i_124_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_124_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="A"></span>S no objection was made to the young people’s engagement with their
-aunt, and all Mr. Collins’s scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for
-a single evening during his visit were most steadily resisted, the coach
-conveyed him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton; and the
-girls had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawing-room,
-that Mr. Wickham had<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_96">{96}</a></span> accepted their uncle’s invitation, and was then in
-the house.</p>
-
-<p>When this information was given, and they had all taken their seats, Mr.
-Collins was at leisure to look around him and admire, and he was so much
-struck with the size and furniture of the apartment, that he declared he
-might almost have supposed himself in the small summer breakfast parlour
-at Rosings; a comparison that did not at first convey much
-gratification; but when Mrs. Philips understood from him what Rosings
-was, and who was its proprietor, when she had listened to the
-description of only one of Lady Catherine’s drawing-rooms, and found
-that the chimney-piece alone had cost eight hundred pounds, she felt all
-the force of the compliment, and would hardly have resented a comparison
-with the housekeeper’s room.</p>
-
-<p>In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion,
-with occasional digressions in praise of his own humble abode, and the
-improvements it was receiving, he was happily employed until the
-gentlemen joined them; and he found in Mrs. Philips a very attentive
-listener, whose opinion of his consequence increased with what she
-heard, and who was resolving to retail it all among her neighbours as
-soon as she could. To the girls, who could not listen to their cousin,
-and who had nothing to do but to wish for an instrument, and examine
-their own indifferent imitations of china on the mantel-piece, the
-interval of waiting appeared very long. It was over at last, however.
-The gentlemen did approach: and when Mr. Wickham walked into the room,
-Elizabeth felt that she had neither been seeing him before, nor thinking
-of him since, with the smallest degree of <span class="pagenum"><a id="page_97">{97}</a></span>unreasonable admiration. The
-officers of the ——shire were in general a very creditable,
-gentlemanlike set and the best of them were of the present party; but
-Mr, Wickham was as far beyond them all in person, countenance, air, and
-walk, as <i>they</i> were superior to the broad-faced stuffy uncle Philips,
-breathing port wine, who followed them into the room.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 391px;">
-<img src="images/i_126.jpg" width="391" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>
-“The officers of the ——shire”<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was
-turned, and Elizabeth was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_98">{98}</a></span> the happy woman by whom he finally seated
-himself; and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into
-conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, and on the
-probability of a rainy season, made her feel that the commonest,
-dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the
-skill of the speaker.</p>
-
-<p>With such rivals for the notice of the fair as Mr. Wickham and the
-officers, Mr. Collins seemed to sink into insignificance; to the young
-ladies he certainly was nothing; but he had still at intervals a kind
-listener in Mrs. Philips, and was, by her watchfulness, most abundantly
-supplied with coffee and muffin.</p>
-
-<p>When the card tables were placed, he had an opportunity of obliging her,
-in return, by sitting down to whist.</p>
-
-<p>“I know little of the game at present,” said he, “but I shall be glad to
-improve myself; for in my situation of life——” Mrs. Philips was very
-thankful for his compliance, but could not wait for his reason.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Wickham did not play at whist, and with ready delight was he
-received at the other table between Elizabeth and Lydia. At first there
-seemed danger of Lydia’s engrossing him entirely, for she was a most
-determined talker; but being likewise extremely fond of lottery tickets,
-she soon grew too much interested in the game, too eager in making bets
-and exclaiming after prizes, to have attention for anyone in particular.
-Allowing for the common demands of the game, Mr. Wickham was therefore
-at leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him,
-though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told,
-the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not even
-mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, how<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_99">{99}</a></span>ever, was unexpectedly
-relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself. He inquired how far
-Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in
-a hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there.</p>
-
-<p>“About a month,” said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the subject
-drop, added, “he is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I
-understand.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” replied Wickham; “his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten
-thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of
-giving you certain information on that head than myself—for I have been
-connected with his family, in a particular manner, from my infancy.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth could not but look surprised.</p>
-
-<p>“You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after
-seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting
-yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?”</p>
-
-<p>“As much as I ever wish to be,” cried Elizabeth, warmly. “I have spent
-four days in the same house with him, and I think him very
-disagreeable.”</p>
-
-<p>“I have no right to give <i>my</i> opinion,” said Wickham, “as to his being
-agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him
-too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for <i>me</i> to
-be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general
-astonish—and, perhaps, you would not express it quite so strongly
-anywhere else. Here you are in your own family.”</p>
-
-<p>“Upon my word I say no more <i>here</i> than I might say in any house in the
-neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in
-Hertfordshire. Everybody is<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_100">{100}</a></span> disgusted with his pride. You will not find
-him more favourably spoken of by anyone.”</p>
-
-<p>“I cannot pretend to be sorry,” said Wickham, after a short
-interruption, “that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond
-their deserts; but with <i>him</i> I believe it does not often happen. The
-world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his
-high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen.”</p>
-
-<p>“I should take him, even on <i>my</i> slight acquaintance, to be an
-ill-tempered man.”</p>
-
-<p>Wickham only shook his head.</p>
-
-<p>“I wonder,” said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, “whether he is
-likely to be in this country much longer.”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not at all know; but I <i>heard</i> nothing of his going away when I
-was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the ——shire will
-not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh no—it is not for <i>me</i> to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If <i>he</i>
-wishes to avoid seeing <i>me</i> he must go. We are not on friendly terms,
-and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for
-avoiding <i>him</i> but what I might proclaim to all the world—a sense of
-very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is.
-His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men
-that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be
-in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a
-thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been
-scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and
-everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the
-memory of his father.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_101">{101}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with
-all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the
-neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he
-had yet seen, and speaking of the latter, especially, with gentle but
-very intelligible gallantry.</p>
-
-<p>“It was the prospect of constant society, and good society,” he added,
-“which was my chief inducement to enter the ——shire. I know it to be a
-most respectable, agreeable corps; and my friend Denny tempted me
-further by his account of their present quarters, and the very great
-attentions and excellent acquaintance Meryton had procured them.
-Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and
-my spirits will not bear solitude. I <i>must</i> have employment and society.
-A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have
-now made it eligible. The church <i>ought</i> to have been my profession—I
-was brought up for the church; and I should at this time have been in
-possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we
-were speaking of just now.”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes—the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best
-living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me.
-I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply,
-and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given
-elsewhere.”</p>
-
-<p>“Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth; “but how could <i>that</i> be? How could his
-will be disregarded? Why did not you seek legal redress?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_102">{102}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to
-give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the
-intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it—or to treat it as a merely
-conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim
-to it by extravagance, imprudence, in short, anything or nothing.
-Certain it is that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I
-was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no
-less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done
-anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm unguarded temper, and I
-may perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion <i>of</i> him, and <i>to</i> him, too
-freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very
-different sort of men, and that he hates me.”</p>
-
-<p>“This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”</p>
-
-<p>“Some time or other he <i>will</i> be—but it shall not be by <i>me</i>. Till I
-can forget his father, I can never defy or expose <i>him</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings, and thought him handsomer than
-ever as he expressed them.</p>
-
-<p>“But what,” said she, after a pause, “can have been his motive? what can
-have induced him to behave so cruelly?”</p>
-
-<p>“A thorough, determined dislike of me—a dislike which I cannot but
-attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Darcy liked me
-less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father’s uncommon
-attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had
-not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood—the sort
-of preference which was often given me.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_103">{103}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this—though I have never liked
-him, I had not thought so very ill of him—I had supposed him to be
-despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of
-descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as
-this!”</p>
-
-<p>After a few minutes’ reflection, however, she continued, “I <i>do</i>
-remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of the implacability of
-his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper. His disposition
-must be dreadful.”</p>
-
-<p>“I will not trust myself on the subject,” replied Wickham; “<i>I</i> can
-hardly be just to him.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was again deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed, “To
-treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite of his
-father!” She could have added, “A young man, too, like <i>you</i>, whose very
-countenance may vouch for your being amiable.” But she contented herself
-with—“And one, too, who had probably been his own companion from
-childhood, connected together, as I think you said, in the closest
-manner.”</p>
-
-<p>“We were born in the same parish, within the same park; the greatest
-part of our youth was passed together: inmates of the same house,
-sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. <i>My</i>
-father began life in the profession which your uncle, Mr. Philips,
-appears to do so much credit to; but he gave up everything to be of use
-to the late Mr. Darcy, and devoted all his time to the care of the
-Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most
-intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Darcy often acknowledged himself to
-be under the greatest obligations to my father’s active superintendence;
-and when, immediately before my father’s death, Mr. Darcy gave him a
-voluntary promise<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_104">{104}</a></span> of providing for me, I am convinced that he felt it
-to be as much a debt of gratitude to <i>him</i> as of affection to myself.”</p>
-
-<p>“How strange!” cried Elizabeth. “How abominable! I wonder that the very
-pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you. If from no better
-motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest,—for
-dishonesty I must call it.”</p>
-
-<p>“It <i>is</i> wonderful,” replied Wickham; “for almost all his actions may be
-traced to pride; and pride has often been his best friend. It has
-connected him nearer with virtue than any other feeling. But we are none
-of us consistent; and in his behaviour to me there were stronger
-impulses even than pride.”</p>
-
-<p>“Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; it has often led him to be liberal and generous; to give his money
-freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the
-poor. Family pride, and <i>filial</i> pride, for he is very proud of what his
-father was, have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to
-degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the
-Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also <i>brotherly</i> pride,
-which, with <i>some</i> brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and
-careful guardian of his sister; and you will hear him generally cried up
-as the most attentive and best of brothers.”</p>
-
-<p>“What sort of a girl is Miss Darcy?”</p>
-
-<p>He shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to
-speak ill of a Darcy; but she is too much like her brother,—very, very
-proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond
-of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amuse<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_105">{105}</a></span>ment. But she is
-nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen,
-and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father’s death her
-home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her
-education.”</p>
-
-<p>After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth could not
-help reverting once more to the first, and saying,—</p>
-
-<p>“I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley. How can Mr. Bingley,
-who seems good-humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable,
-be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you
-know Mr. Bingley?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not at all.”</p>
-
-<p>“He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr.
-Darcy is.”</p>
-
-<p>“Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not
-want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth
-his while. Among those who are at all his equals in consequence, he is a
-very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride
-never deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just,
-sincere, rational, honourable, and, perhaps, agreeable,—allowing
-something for fortune and figure.”</p>
-
-<p>The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the players gathered round
-the other table, and Mr. Collins took his station between his cousin
-Elizabeth and Mrs. Philips. The usual inquiries as to his success were
-made by the latter. It had not been very great; he had lost every point;
-but when Mrs. Philips began to express her concern thereupon, he assured
-her, with much earnest gravity, that it was not of the least importance;
-that he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_106">{106}</a></span> considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged she would not
-make herself uneasy.</p>
-
-<p>“I know very well, madam,” said he, “that when persons sit down to a
-card table they must take their chance of these things,—and happily I
-am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There
-are, undoubtedly, many who could not say the same; but, thanks to Lady
-Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding
-little matters.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Wickham’s attention was caught; and after observing Mr. Collins for
-a few moments, he asked Elizabeth in a low voice whether her relations
-were very intimately acquainted with the family of De Bourgh.</p>
-
-<p>“Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” she replied, “has very lately given him a
-living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her
-notice, but he certainly has not known her long.”</p>
-
-<p>“You know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy
-were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine’s
-connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before
-yesterday.”</p>
-
-<p>“Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and it is
-believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.”</p>
-
-<p>This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor Miss
-Bingley. Vain indeed must be all her attentions, vain and useless her
-affection for his sister and her praise of himself, if he were already
-self-destined to another.</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Collins,” said she, “speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her
-daughter; but, from some particulars<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_107">{107}</a></span> that he has related of her
-Ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him; and that, in spite of
-her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman.”</p>
-
-<p>“I believe her to be both in a great degree,” replied Wickham; “I have
-not seen her for many years; but I very well remember that I never liked
-her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She has the
-reputation of being remarkably sensible and clever; but I rather believe
-she derives part of her abilities from her rank and fortune, part from
-her authoritative manner, and the rest from the pride of her nephew, who
-chooses that everyone connected with him should have an understanding of
-the first class.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth allowed that he had given a very rational account of it, and
-they continued talking together with mutual satisfaction till supper put
-an end to cards, and gave the rest of the ladies their share of Mr.
-Wickham’s attentions. There could be no conversation in the noise of
-Mrs. Philips’s supper party, but his manners recommended him to
-everybody. Whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done
-gracefully. Elizabeth went away with her head full of him. She could
-think of nothing but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all
-the way home; but there was not time for her even to mention his name as
-they went, for neither Lydia nor Mr. Collins were once silent. Lydia
-talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had lost and the
-fish she had won; and Mr. Collins, in describing the civility of Mr. and
-Mrs. Philips, protesting that he did not in the least regard his losses
-at whist, enumerating all the dishes at supper, and repeatedly fearing
-that he crowded his cousins, had more to say than he could well manage
-before the carriage stopped at Longbourn House.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_108">{108}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a><img src="images/i_137_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-delighted to see their dear friend again.
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_137_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="E"></span>LIZABETH related to Jane, the next day, what had passed between Mr.
-Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern: she
-knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr.
-Bingley’s regard; and yet it was not in her nature to question the
-veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. The
-possibility of his having really endured such unkindness was enough to
-interest all her tender feelings; and nothing therefore remained to be
-done but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each, and
-throw into the account of accident or mistake whatever could not be
-otherwise explained.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_109">{109}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“They have both,” said she, “been deceived, I dare say, in some way or
-other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps
-misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to
-conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them,
-without actual blame on either side.”</p>
-
-<p>“Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, what have you got to say in
-behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the
-business? Do clear <i>them</i>, too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of
-somebody.”</p>
-
-<p>“Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my
-opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light
-it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father’s favourite in such a
-manner,—one whom his father had promised to provide for. It is
-impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his
-character, could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so
-excessively deceived in him? Oh no.”</p>
-
-<p>“I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley’s being imposed on than that
-Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last
-night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not
-so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is difficult, indeed—it is distressing. One does not know what to
-think.”</p>
-
-<p>“I beg your pardon;—one knows exactly what to think.”</p>
-
-<p>But Jane could think with certainty on only one point,—that Mr.
-Bingley, if he <i>had been</i> imposed on,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_110">{110}</a></span> would have much to suffer when
-the affair became public.</p>
-
-<p>The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery, where this
-conversation passed, by the arrival of some of the very persons of whom
-they had been speaking; Mr. Bingley and his sisters came to give their
-personal invitation for the long expected ball at Netherfield, which was
-fixed for the following Tuesday. The two ladies were delighted to see
-their dear friend again, called it an age since they had met, and
-repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since their
-separation. To the rest of the family they paid little attention;
-avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying not much to Elizabeth,
-and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone again, rising from
-their seats with an activity which took their brother by surprise, and
-hurrying off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet’s civilities.</p>
-
-<p>The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every
-female of the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as given in
-compliment to her eldest daughter, and was particularly flattered by
-receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself, instead of a
-ceremonious card. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the
-society of her two friends, and the attentions of their brother; and
-Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing a great deal with Mr.
-Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Mr. Darcy’s look
-and behaviour. The happiness anticipated by Catherine and Lydia depended
-less on any single event, or any particular person; for though they
-each, like Elizabeth, meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Wickham,
-he was by no means the only partner who<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_111">{111}</a></span> could satisfy them, and a ball
-was, at any rate, a ball. And even Mary could assure her family that she
-had no disinclination for it.</p>
-
-<p>“While I can have my mornings to myself,” said she, “it is enough. I
-think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements.
-Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who
-consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for
-everybody.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth’s spirits were so high on the occasion, that though she did
-not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking
-him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley’s invitation, and if he
-did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening’s
-amusement; and she was rather surprised to find that he entertained no
-scruple whatever on that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke,
-either from the Archbishop or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to
-dance.</p>
-
-<p>“I am by no means of opinion, I assure you,” said he, “that a ball of
-this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can
-have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing
-myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair
-cousins in the course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of
-soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially; a
-preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right
-cause, and not to any disrespect for her.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth felt herself completely taken in. She had fully proposed being
-engaged by Wickham for those very dances; and to have Mr. Collins
-instead!—her liveliness had been never worse timed. There was no<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_112">{112}</a></span> help
-for it, however. Mr. Wickham’s happiness and her own was perforce
-delayed a little longer, and Mr. Collins’s proposal accepted with as
-good a grace as she could. She was not the better pleased with his
-gallantry, from the idea it suggested of something more. It now first
-struck her, that <i>she</i> was selected from among her sisters as worthy of
-being the mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form a
-quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more eligible visitors.
-The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed his increasing
-civilities towards herself, and heard his frequent attempt at a
-compliment on her wit and vivacity; and though more astonished than
-gratified herself by this effect of her charms, it was not long before
-her mother gave her to understand that the probability of their marriage
-was exceedingly agreeable to <i>her</i>. Elizabeth, however, did not choose
-to take the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the
-consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins might never make the offer, and,
-till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him.</p>
-
-<p>If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for and talk of, the
-younger Miss Bennets would have been in a pitiable state at this time;
-for, from the day of the invitation to the day of the ball, there was
-such a succession of rain as prevented their walking to Meryton once. No
-aunt, no officers, no news could be sought after; the very shoe-roses
-for Netherfield were got by proxy. Even Elizabeth might have found some
-trial of her patience in weather which totally suspended the improvement
-of her acquaintance with Mr. Wickham; and nothing less than a dance on
-Tuesday could have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday
-endurable to Kitty and Lydia.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_113">{113}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a><img src="images/i_142_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_142_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="T"></span>ILL Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield, and looked in
-vain for Mr. Wickham among the cluster of red coats there assembled, a
-doubt of his being present had never occurred to her. The certainty of
-meeting him had not been checked by any of those recollections that
-might not unreasonably have alarmed her. She had dressed with more than
-usual care, and prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all
-that remained unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it was not more than
-might be won in the course of the evening. But in an<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_114">{114}</a></span> instant arose the
-dreadful suspicion of his being purposely omitted, for Mr. Darcy’s
-pleasure, in the Bingleys’ invitation to the officers; and though this
-was not exactly the case, the absolute fact of his absence was
-pronounced by his friend Mr. Denny, to whom Lydia eagerly applied, and
-who told them that Wickham had been obliged to go to town on business
-the day before, and was not yet returned; adding, with a significant
-smile,—</p>
-
-<p>“I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now, if
-he had not wished to avoid a certain gentleman here.”</p>
-
-<p>This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Lydia, was caught by
-Elizabeth; and, as it assured her that Darcy was not less answerable for
-Wickham’s absence than if her first surmise had been just, every feeling
-of displeasure against the former was so sharpened by immediate
-disappointment, that she could hardly reply with tolerable civility to
-the polite inquiries which he directly afterwards approached to make.
-Attention, forbearance, patience with Darcy, was injury to Wickham. She
-was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and turned away
-with a degree of ill-humour which she could not wholly surmount even in
-speaking to Mr. Bingley, whose blind partiality provoked her.</p>
-
-<p>But Elizabeth was not formed for ill-humour; and though every prospect
-of her own was destroyed for the evening, it could not dwell long on her
-spirits; and, having told all her griefs to Charlotte Lucas, whom she
-had not seen for a week, she was soon able to make a voluntary
-transition to the oddities of her cousin, and to point him out to her
-particular notice. The two first dances, however, brought a return of
-distress: they were dances of mortification. Mr. Collins, awkward and
-solemn,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_115">{115}</a></span> apologizing instead of attending, and often moving wrong
-without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery which a
-disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. The moment of her
-release from him was ecstasy.</p>
-
-<p>She danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment of talking of
-Wickham, and of hearing that he was universally liked. When those dances
-were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and was in conversation with
-her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy, who took
-her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without
-knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again
-immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of
-mind: Charlotte tried to console her.</p>
-
-<p>“I dare say you will find him very agreeable.”</p>
-
-<p>“Heaven forbid! <i>That</i> would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find
-a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an
-evil.”</p>
-
-<p>When the dancing recommenced, however, and Darcy approached to claim her
-hand, Charlotte could not help cautioning her, in a whisper, not to be a
-simpleton, and allow her fancy for Wickham to make her appear unpleasant
-in the eyes of a man often times his consequence. Elizabeth made no
-answer, and took her place in the set, amazed at the dignity to which
-she was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Mr. Darcy, and
-reading in her neighbours’ looks their equal amazement in beholding it.
-They stood for some time without speaking a word; and she began to
-imagine that their silence was to last through the two dances, and, at
-first, was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it
-would be the greater punishment to her partner to oblige him to talk,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_116">{116}</a></span>
-she made some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again
-silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time,
-with—</p>
-
-<p>“It is <i>your</i> turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. <i>I</i> talked about the
-dance, and <i>you</i> ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the
-room, or the number of couples.”</p>
-
-<p>He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be
-said.</p>
-
-<p>“Very well; that reply will do for the present. Perhaps, by-and-by, I
-may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones; but
-<i>now</i> we may be silent.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?”</p>
-
-<p>“Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be
-entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet, for the advantage of
-<i>some</i>, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have the
-trouble of saying as little as possible.”</p>
-
-<p>“Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you
-imagine that you are gratifying mine?”</p>
-
-<p>“Both,” replied Elizabeth archly; “for I have always seen a great
-similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial,
-taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say
-something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to
-posterity with all the <i>éclat</i> of a proverb.”</p>
-
-<p>“This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,”
-said he. “How near it may be to <i>mine</i>, I cannot pretend to say. <i>You</i>
-think it a faithful portrait, undoubtedly.”</p>
-
-<p>“I must not decide on my own performance.”</p>
-
-<p>He made no answer; and they were again silent till they had gone down
-the dance, when he asked her if she<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_117">{117}</a></span> and her sisters did not very often
-walk to Meryton. She answered in the affirmative; and, unable to resist
-the temptation, added, “When you met us there the other day, we had just
-been forming a new acquaintance.”</p>
-
-<p>The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of <i>hauteur</i> overspread his
-features, but he said not a word; and Elizabeth, though blaming herself
-for her own weakness, could not go on. At length Darcy spoke, and in a
-constrained manner said,—</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may insure his
-<i>making</i> friends; whether he may be equally capable of <i>retaining</i> them,
-is less certain.”</p>
-
-<p>“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” replied Elizabeth,
-with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all
-his life.”</p>
-
-<p>Darcy made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the subject. At
-that moment Sir William Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to pass
-through the set to the other side of the room; but, on perceiving Mr.
-Darcy, he stopped, with a bow of superior courtesy, to compliment him on
-his dancing and his partner.</p>
-
-<p>“I have been most highly gratified, indeed, my dear sir; such very
-superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the
-first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not
-disgrace you: and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated,
-especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss Eliza (glancing
-at her sister and Bingley), shall take place. What congratulations will
-then flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy;—but let me not interrupt you, sir.
-You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of
-that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_118">{118}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 444px;">
-<img src="images/i_147.jpg" width="444" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>
-“Such very superior dancing is not<br>
-often seen.”<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy; but Sir
-William’s allusion to his friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and his
-eyes were directed, with a very serious expression, towards Bingley and
-Jane, who were dancing together. Recovering himself, however, shortly,
-he turned to his partner, and said,—</p>
-
-<p>“Sir William’s interruption has made me forget what we were talking
-of.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_119">{119}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have
-interrupted any two people in the room who had less to say for
-themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success,
-and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine.”</p>
-
-<p>“What think you of books?” said he, smiling.</p>
-
-<p>“Books—oh no!—I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same
-feelings.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be
-no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions.”</p>
-
-<p>“No—I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full of
-something else.”</p>
-
-<p>“The <i>present</i> always occupies you in such scenes—does it?” said he,
-with a look of doubt.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, always,” she replied, without knowing what she said; for her
-thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon afterwards appeared
-by her suddenly exclaiming, “I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy,
-that you hardly ever forgave;—that your resentment, once created, was
-unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its <i>being
-created</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>“I am,” said he, with a firm voice.</p>
-
-<p>“And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”</p>
-
-<p>“I hope not.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion,
-to be secure of judging properly at first.”</p>
-
-<p>“May I ask to what these questions tend?”</p>
-
-<p>“Merely to the illustration of <i>your</i> character,” said she, endeavouring
-to shake off her gravity. “I am trying to make it out.”</p>
-
-<p>“And what is your success?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_120">{120}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>She shook her head. “I do not get on at all. I hear such different
-accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”</p>
-
-<p>“I can readily believe,” answered he, gravely, “that reports may vary
-greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were
-not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to
-fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.”</p>
-
-<p>“But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another
-opportunity.”</p>
-
-<p>“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” he coldly replied.
-She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in
-silence; on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree; for
-in Darcy’s breast there was a tolerably powerful feeling towards her,
-which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against
-another.</p>
-
-<p>They had not long separated when Miss Bingley came towards her, and,
-with an expression of civil disdain, thus accosted her,—</p>
-
-<p>“So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with George Wickham?
-Your sister has been talking to me about him, and asking me a thousand
-questions; and I find that the young man forgot to tell you, among his
-other communications, that he was the son of old Wickham, the late Mr.
-Darcy’s steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to give
-implicit confidence to all his assertions; for, as to Mr. Darcy’s using
-him ill, it is perfectly false: for, on the contrary, he has been always
-remarkably kind to him, though George Wickham has treated Mr. Darcy in a
-most infamous manner. I do not know the particulars, but I know very
-well that Mr. Darcy is not in the least to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_121">{121}</a></span> blame; that he cannot bear
-to hear George Wickham mentioned; and that though my brother thought he
-could not well avoid including him in his invitation to the officers, he
-was excessively glad to find that he had taken himself out of the way.
-His coming into the country at all is a most insolent thing, indeed, and
-I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you, Miss Eliza, for this
-discovery of your favourite’s guilt; but really, considering his
-descent, one could not expect much better.”</p>
-
-<p>“His guilt and his descent appear, by your account, to be the same,”
-said Elizabeth, angrily; “for I have heard you accuse him of nothing
-worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy’s steward, and of <i>that</i>, I can
-assure you, he informed me himself.”</p>
-
-<p>“I beg your pardon,” replied Miss Bingley, turning away with a sneer.
-“Excuse my interference; it was kindly meant.”</p>
-
-<p>“Insolent girl!” said Elizabeth to herself. “You are much mistaken if
-you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack as this. I see
-nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr.
-Darcy.” She then sought her eldest sister, who had undertaken to make
-inquiries on the same subject of Bingley. Jane met her with a smile of
-such sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as sufficiently
-marked how well she was satisfied with the occurrences of the evening.
-Elizabeth instantly read her feelings; and, at that moment, solicitude
-for Wickham, resentment against his enemies, and everything else, gave
-way before the hope of Jane’s being in the fairest way for happiness.</p>
-
-<p>“I want to know,” said she, with a countenance no less smiling than her
-sister’s, “what you have learnt<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_122">{122}</a></span> about Mr. Wickham. But perhaps you have
-been too pleasantly engaged to think of any third person, in which case
-you may be sure of my pardon.”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” replied Jane, “I have not forgotten him; but I have nothing
-satisfactory to tell you. Mr. Bingley does not know the whole of his
-history, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have
-principally offended Mr. Darcy; but he will vouch for the good conduct,
-the probity and honour, of his friend, and is perfectly convinced that
-Mr. Wickham has deserved much less attention from Mr. Darcy than he has
-received; and I am sorry to say that by his account, as well as his
-sister’s, Mr. Wickham is by no means a respectable young man. I am
-afraid he has been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr. Darcy’s
-regard.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Bingley does not know Mr. Wickham himself.”</p>
-
-<p>“No; he never saw him till the other morning at Meryton.”</p>
-
-<p>“This account then is what he has received from Mr. Darcy. I am
-perfectly satisfied. But what does he say of the living?”</p>
-
-<p>“He does not exactly recollect the circumstances, though he has heard
-them from Mr. Darcy more than once, but he believes that it was left to
-him <i>conditionally</i> only.”</p>
-
-<p>“I have not a doubt of Mr. Bingley’s sincerity,” said Elizabeth warmly,
-“but you must excuse my not being convinced by assurances only. Mr.
-Bingley’s defence of his friend was a very able one, I dare say; but
-since he is unacquainted with several parts of the story, and has learnt
-the rest from that friend himself, I shall venture still to think of
-both gentlemen as I did before.”</p>
-
-<p>She then changed the discourse to one more gratifying<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_123">{123}</a></span> to each, and on
-which there could be no difference of sentiment. Elizabeth listened with
-delight to the happy though modest hopes which Jane entertained of
-Bingley’s regard, and said all in her power to heighten her confidence
-in it. On their being joined by Mr. Bingley himself, Elizabeth withdrew
-to Miss Lucas; to whose inquiry after the pleasantness of her last
-partner she had scarcely replied, before Mr. Collins came up to them,
-and told her with great exultation, that he had just been so fortunate
-as to make a most important discovery.</p>
-
-<p>“I have found out,” said he, “by a singular accident, that there is now
-in the room a near relation to my patroness. I happened to overhear the
-gentleman himself mentioning to the young lady who does the honours of
-this house the names of his cousin Miss De Bourgh, and of her mother,
-Lady Catherine. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! Who would
-have thought of my meeting with—perhaps—a nephew of Lady Catherine de
-Bourgh in this assembly! I am most thankful that the discovery is made
-in time for me to pay my respects to him, which I am now going to do,
-and trust he will excuse my not having done it before. My total
-ignorance of the connection must plead my apology.”</p>
-
-<p>“You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy?”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier.
-I believe him to be Lady Catherine’s <i>nephew</i>. It will be in my power to
-assure him that her Ladyship was quite well yesterday se’nnight.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme; assuring him
-that Mr. Darcy would consider his addressing him without introduction as
-an impertinent<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_124">{124}</a></span> freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; that it
-was not in the least necessary there should be any notice on either
-side, and that if it were, it must belong to Mr. Darcy, the superior in
-consequence, to begin the acquaintance. Mr. Collins listened to her with
-the determined air of following his own inclination, and when she ceased
-speaking, replied thus,—</p>
-
-<p>“My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world of your
-excellent judgment in all matters within the scope of your
-understanding, but permit me to say that there must be a wide difference
-between the established forms of ceremony amongst the laity and those
-which regulate the clergy; for, give me leave to observe that I consider
-the clerical office as equal in point of dignity with the highest rank
-in the kingdom—provided that a proper humility of behaviour is at the
-same time maintained. You must, therefore, allow me to follow the
-dictates of my conscience on this occasion, which lead me to perform
-what I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to profit by
-your advice, which on every other subject shall be my constant guide,
-though in the case before us I consider myself more fitted by education
-and habitual study to decide on what is right than a young lady like
-yourself;” and with a low bow he left her to attack Mr. Darcy, whose
-reception of his advances she eagerly watched, and whose astonishment at
-being so addressed was very evident. Her cousin prefaced his speech with
-a solemn bow, and though she could not hear a word of it, she felt as if
-hearing it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the words “apology,”
-“Hunsford,” and “Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” It vexed her to see him
-expose himself to such a man. Mr. Darcy was eyeing him with
-un<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_125">{125}</a></span>restrained wonder; and when at last Mr. Collins allowed him to speak,
-replied with an air of distant civility. Mr. Collins, however, was not
-discouraged from speaking again, and Mr. Darcy’s contempt seemed
-abundantly increasing with the length of his second speech; and at the
-end of it he only made him a slight bow, and moved another way: Mr.
-Collins then returned to Elizabeth.</p>
-
-<p>“I have no reason, I assure you,” said he, “to be dissatisfied with my
-reception. Mr. Darcy seemed much pleased with the attention. He answered
-me with the utmost civility, and even paid me the compliment of saying,
-that he was so well convinced of Lady Catherine’s discernment as to be
-certain she could never bestow a favour unworthily. It was really a very
-handsome thought. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him.”</p>
-
-<p>As Elizabeth had no longer any interest of her own to pursue, she turned
-her attention almost entirely on her sister and Mr. Bingley; and the
-train of agreeable reflections which her observations gave birth to made
-her perhaps almost as happy as Jane. She saw her in idea settled in that
-very house, in all the felicity which a marriage of true affection could
-bestow; and she felt capable, under such circumstances, of endeavouring
-even to like Bingley’s two sisters. Her mother’s thoughts she plainly
-saw were bent the same way, and she determined not to venture near her,
-lest she might hear too much. When they sat down to supper, therefore,
-she considered it a most unlucky perverseness which placed them within
-one of each other; and deeply was she vexed to find that her mother was
-talking to that one person (Lady Lucas) freely, openly, and of nothing
-else but of her expectation that Jane would be soon married to Mr.
-Bingley. It was an animating subject, and Mrs. Bennet<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_126">{126}</a></span> seemed incapable
-of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. His being such
-a charming young man, and so rich, and living but three miles from them,
-were the first points of self-gratulation; and then it was such a
-comfort to think how fond the two sisters were of Jane, and to be
-certain that they must desire the connection as much as she could do. It
-was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger daughters, as
-Jane’s marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men;
-and, lastly, it was so pleasant at her time of life to be able to
-consign her single daughters to the care of their sister, that she might
-not be obliged to go into company more than she liked. It was necessary
-to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure, because on such
-occasions it is the etiquette; but no one was less likely than Mrs.
-Bennet to find comfort in staying at home at any period of her life. She
-concluded with many good wishes that Lady Lucas might soon be equally
-fortunate, though evidently and triumphantly believing there was no
-chance of it.</p>
-
-<p>In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity of her mother’s
-words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible
-whisper; for to her inexpressible vexation she could perceive that the
-chief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, who sat opposite to them. Her
-mother only scolded her for being nonsensical.</p>
-
-<p>“What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am
-sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say
-nothing <i>he</i> may not like to hear.”</p>
-
-<p>“For heaven’s sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be to you
-to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by
-so doing.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_127">{127}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her mother would
-talk of her views in the same intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushed and
-blushed again with shame and vexation. She could not help frequently
-glancing her eye at Mr. Darcy, though every glance convinced her of what
-she dreaded; for though he was not always looking at her mother, she was
-convinced that his attention was invariably fixed by her. The expression
-of his face changed gradually from indignant contempt to a composed and
-steady gravity.</p>
-
-<p>At length, however, Mrs. Bennet had no more to say; and Lady Lucas, who
-had been long yawning at the repetition of delights which she saw no
-likelihood of sharing, was left to the comforts of cold ham and chicken.
-Elizabeth now began to revive. But not long was the interval of
-tranquillity; for when supper was over, singing was talked of, and she
-had the mortification of seeing Mary, after very little entreaty,
-preparing to oblige the company. By many significant looks and silent
-entreaties did she endeavour to prevent such a proof of
-complaisance,—but in vain; Mary would not understand them; such an
-opportunity of exhibiting was delightful to her, and she began her song.
-Elizabeth’s eyes were fixed on her, with most painful sensations; and
-she watched her progress through the several stanzas with an impatience
-which was very ill rewarded at their close; for Mary, on receiving
-amongst the thanks of the table the hint of a hope that she might be
-prevailed on to favour them again, after the pause of half a minute
-began another. Mary’s powers were by no means fitted for such a display;
-her voice was weak, and her manner affected. Elizabeth was in agonies.
-She looked at Jane to see how she bore it; but Jane was very composedly<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_128">{128}</a></span>
-talking to Bingley. She looked at his two sisters, and saw them making
-signs of derision at each other, and at Darcy, who continued, however,
-impenetrably grave. She looked at her father to entreat his
-interference, lest Mary should be singing all night. He took the hint,
-and, when Mary had finished her second song, said aloud,—</p>
-
-<p>“That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough.
-Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.”</p>
-
-<p>Mary, though pretending not to hear, was somewhat disconcerted; and
-Elizabeth, sorry for her, and sorry for her father’s speech, was afraid
-her anxiety had done no good. Others of the party were now applied to.</p>
-
-<p>“If I,” said Mr. Collins, “were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I
-should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an
-air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly
-compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean, however,
-to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time to
-music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The
-rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make such
-an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself and not
-offensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the time
-that remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the care
-and improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making
-as comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importance
-that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards
-everybody, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I
-cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_129">{129}</a></span> of the man who
-should omit an occasion of testifying his respect towards anybody
-connected with the family.” And with a bow to Mr. Darcy, he concluded
-his speech, which had been spoken so loud as to be heard by half the
-room. Many stared—many smiled; but no one looked more amused than Mr.
-Bennet himself, while his wife seriously commended Mr. Collins for
-having spoken so sensibly, and observed, in a half-whisper to Lady
-Lucas, that he was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man.</p>
-
-<p>To Elizabeth it appeared, that had her family made an agreement to
-expose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would
-have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit, or
-finer success; and happy did she think it for Bingley and her sister
-that some of the exhibition had escaped his notice, and that his
-feelings were not of a sort to be much distressed by the folly which he
-must have witnessed. That his two sisters and Mr. Darcy, however, should
-have such an opportunity of ridiculing her relations was bad enough; and
-she could not determine whether the silent contempt of the gentleman, or
-the insolent smiles of the ladies, were more intolerable.</p>
-
-<p>The rest of the evening brought her little amusement. She was teased by
-Mr. Collins, who continued most perseveringly by her side; and though he
-could not prevail with her to dance with him again, put it out of her
-power to dance with others. In vain did she entreat him to stand up with
-somebody else, and offered to introduce him to any young lady in the
-room. He assured her that, as to dancing, he was perfectly indifferent
-to it; that his chief object was, by delicate attentions, to recommend
-himself to her; and that he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_130">{130}</a></span> should therefore make a point of remaining
-close to her the whole evening. There was no arguing upon such a
-project. She owed her greatest relief to her friend Miss Lucas, who
-often joined them, and good-naturedly engaged Mr. Collins’s conversation
-to herself.</p>
-
-<p>She was at least free from the offence of Mr. Darcy’s further notice:
-though often standing within a very short distance of her, quite
-disengaged, he never came near enough to speak. She felt it to be the
-probable consequence of her allusions to Mr. Wickham, and rejoiced in
-it.</p>
-
-<p>The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart; and by a
-manœuvre of Mrs. Bennet had to wait for their carriage a quarter of an
-hour after everybody else was gone, which gave them time to see how
-heartily they were wished away by some of the family. Mrs. Hurst and her
-sister scarcely opened their mouths except to complain of fatigue, and
-were evidently impatient to have the house to themselves. They repulsed
-every attempt of Mrs. Bennet at conversation, and, by so doing, threw a
-languor over the whole party, which was very little relieved by the long
-speeches of Mr. Collins, who was complimenting Mr. Bingley and his
-sisters on the elegance of their entertainment, and the hospitality and
-politeness which had marked their behaviour to their guests. Darcy said
-nothing at all. Mr. Bennet, in equal silence, was enjoying the scene.
-Mr. Bingley and Jane were standing together a little detached from the
-rest, and talked only to each other. Elizabeth preserved as steady a
-silence as either Mrs. Hurst or Miss Bingley; and even Lydia was too
-much fatigued to utter more than the occasional exclamation of “Lord,
-how tired I am!” accompanied by a violent yawn.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_131">{131}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>When at length they arose to take leave, Mrs. Bennet was most pressingly
-civil in her hope of seeing the whole family soon at Longbourn; and
-addressed herself particularly to Mr. Bingley, to assure him how happy
-he would make them, by eating a family dinner with them at any time,
-without the ceremony of a formal invitation. Bingley was all grateful
-pleasure; and he readily engaged for taking the earliest opportunity of
-waiting on her after his return from London, whither he was obliged to
-go the next day for a short time.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied; and quitted the house under the
-delightful persuasion that, allowing for the necessary preparations of
-settlements, new carriages, and wedding clothes, she should undoubtedly
-see her daughter settled at Netherfield in the course of three or four
-months. Of having another daughter married to Mr. Collins she thought
-with equal certainty, and with considerable, though not equal, pleasure.
-Elizabeth was the least dear to her of all her children; and though the
-man and the match were quite good enough for <i>her</i>, the worth of each
-was eclipsed by Mr. Bingley and Netherfield.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_132">{132}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a><img src="images/i_161_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“to assure you in the most animated language.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XIX.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_161_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="T"></span>HE next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. Mr. Collins made his
-declaration in form. Having resolved to do it without loss of time, as
-his leave of absence extended only to the following Saturday, and having
-no feelings of diffidence to make it distressing to himself even at the
-moment, he set about it in a very orderly manner, with all the
-observances which he supposed a regular part of the business. On finding
-Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_133">{133}</a></span> and one of the younger girls together, soon
-after breakfast, he addressed the mother in these words,—</p>
-
-<p>“May I hope, madam, for your interest with your fair daughter Elizabeth,
-when I solicit for the honour of a private audience with her in the
-course of this morning?”</p>
-
-<p>Before Elizabeth had time for anything but a blush of surprise, Mrs.
-Bennet instantly answered,—</p>
-
-<p>“Oh dear! Yes, certainly. I am sure Lizzy will be very happy—I am sure
-she can have no objection. Come, Kitty, I want you upstairs.” And
-gathering her work together, she was hastening away, when Elizabeth
-called out,—</p>
-
-<p>“Dear ma’am, do not go. I beg you will not go. Mr. Collins must excuse
-me. He can have nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear. I am
-going away myself.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. I desire you will stay where you are.” And
-upon Elizabeth’s seeming really, with vexed and embarrassed looks, about
-to escape, she added, “Lizzy, I <i>insist</i> upon your staying and hearing
-Mr. Collins.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth would not oppose such an injunction; and a moment’s
-consideration making her also sensible that it would be wisest to get it
-over as soon and as quietly as possible, she sat down again, and tried
-to conceal, by incessant employment, the feelings which were divided
-between distress and diversion. Mrs. Bennet and Kitty walked off, and as
-soon as they were gone, Mr. Collins began,—</p>
-
-<p>“Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that your modesty, so far from
-doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You
-would have been less amiable in my eyes had there <i>not</i> been this little
-unwillingness; but allow me to assure you that I have your respected
-mother’s permission for this address.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_134">{134}</a></span> You can hardly doubt the purport
-of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to
-dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as
-soon as I entered the house I singled you out as the companion of my
-future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this
-subject, perhaps it will be advisable for me to state my reasons for
-marrying—and, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design
-of selecting a wife, as I certainly did.”</p>
-
-<p>The idea of Mr. Collins, with all his solemn composure, being run away
-with by his feelings, made Elizabeth so near laughing that she could not
-use the short pause he allowed in any attempt to stop him farther, and
-he continued,—</p>
-
-<p>“My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for
-every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example
-of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced it will add
-very greatly to my happiness; and, thirdly, which perhaps I ought to
-have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and
-recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling
-patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked
-too!) on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I
-left Hunsford,—between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was
-arranging Miss De Bourgh’s footstool,—that she said, ‘Mr. Collins, you
-must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a
-gentlewoman for <i>my</i> sake, and for your <i>own</i>; let her be an active,
-useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small
-income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as
-you can, bring her to Hunsford, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_135">{135}</a></span> I will visit her.’ Allow me, by the
-way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and
-kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the
-advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond
-anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity, I think, must be
-acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect
-which her rank will inevitably excite. Thus much for my general
-intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views
-were directed to Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I
-assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that
-being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honoured
-father (who, however, may live many years longer), I could not satisfy
-myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters, that
-the loss to them might be as little as possible when the melancholy
-event takes place—which, however, as I have already said, may not be
-for several years. This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I
-flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing
-remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the
-violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and
-shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well
-aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds
-in the 4 per cents., which will not be yours till after your mother’s
-decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head,
-therefore, I shall be uniformly silent: and you may assure yourself that
-no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married.”</p>
-
-<p>It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now.</p>
-
-<p>“You are too hasty, sir,” she cried. “You forget that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_136">{136}</a></span> I have made no
-answer. Let me do it without further loss of time. Accept my thanks for
-the compliment you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of
-your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than decline
-them.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am not now to learn,” replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the
-hand, “that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the
-man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their
-favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a
-third time. I am, therefore, by no means discouraged by what you have
-just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long.”</p>
-
-<p>“Upon my word, sir,” cried Elizabeth, “your hope is rather an
-extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I am not
-one of those young ladies (if such young ladies there are) who are so
-daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second
-time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make <i>me</i>
-happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who
-would make <i>you</i> so. Nay, were your friend Lady Catherine to know me, I
-am persuaded she would find me in every respect ill qualified for the
-situation.”</p>
-
-<p>“Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so,” said Mr. Collins,
-very gravely—“but I cannot imagine that her Ladyship would at all
-disapprove of you. And you may be certain that when I have the honour of
-seeing her again I shall speak in the highest terms of your modesty,
-economy, and other amiable qualifications.”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. You must
-give me leave to judge for myself, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_137">{137}</a></span> pay me the compliment of
-believing what I say. I wish you very happy and very rich, and by
-refusing your hand, do all in my power to prevent your being otherwise.
-In making me the offer, you must have satisfied the delicacy of your
-feelings with regard to my family, and may take possession of Longbourn
-estate whenever it falls, without any self-reproach. This matter may be
-considered, therefore, as finally settled.” And rising as she thus
-spoke, she would have quitted the room, had not Mr. Collins thus
-addressed her,—</p>
-
-<p>“When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the subject, I
-shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given
-me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I
-know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the
-first application, and, perhaps, you have even now said as much to
-encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the
-female character.”</p>
-
-<p>“Really, Mr. Collins,” cried Elizabeth, with some warmth, “you puzzle me
-exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form
-of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as
-may convince you of its being one.”</p>
-
-<p>“You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your
-refusal of my addresses are merely words of course. My reasons for
-believing it are briefly these:—It does not appear to me that my hand
-is unworthy of your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would
-be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my connections
-with the family of De Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are
-circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_138">{138}</a></span> it into further
-consideration that, in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no
-means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your
-portion is unhappily so small, that it will in all likelihood undo the
-effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must,
-therefore, conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I
-shall choose to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by
-suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.”</p>
-
-<p>“I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretensions whatever to that kind
-of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. I would
-rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you
-again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but
-to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect
-forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant
-female intending to plague you, but as a rational creature speaking the
-truth from her heart.”</p>
-
-<p>“You are uniformly charming!” cried he, with an air of awkward
-gallantry; “and I am persuaded that, when sanctioned by the express
-authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of
-being acceptable.”</p>
-
-<p>To such perseverance in wilful self-deception Elizabeth would make no
-reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew; determined, that if he
-persisted in considering her repeated refusals as flattering
-encouragement, to apply to her father, whose negative might be uttered
-in such a manner as must be decisive, and whose behaviour at least could
-not be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant female.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_139">{139}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XX"></a><img src="images/i_168_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XX.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_168_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="M"></span>R. COLLINS was not left long to the silent contemplation of his
-successful love; for Mrs. Bennet, having dawdled about in the vestibule
-to watch for the end of the conference, no sooner saw Elizabeth open the
-door and with quick step pass her towards the staircase, than she
-entered the breakfast-room, and congratulated both him and herself in
-warm terms on the happy prospect of their nearer connection. Mr. Collins
-received and returned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and then
-proceeded to relate the particulars of their interview, with the result
-of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied, since the
-refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him would naturally flow
-from her bashful modesty and the genuine delicacy of her character.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_140">{140}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>This information, however, startled Mrs. Bennet: she would have been
-glad to be equally satisfied that her daughter had meant to encourage
-him by protesting against his proposals, but she dared not believe it,
-and could not help saying so.</p>
-
-<p>“But depend upon it, Mr. Collins,” she added, “that Lizzy shall be
-brought to reason. I will speak to her about it myself directly. She is
-a very headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her own interest; but
-I will <i>make</i> her know it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pardon me for interrupting you, madam,” cried Mr. Collins; “but if she
-is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether she would
-altogether be a very desirable wife to a man in my situation, who
-naturally looks for happiness in the marriage state. If, therefore, she
-actually persists in rejecting my suit, perhaps it were better not to
-force her into accepting me, because, if liable to such defects of
-temper, she could not contribute much to my felicity.”</p>
-
-<p>“Sir, you quite misunderstand me,” said Mrs. Bennet, alarmed. “Lizzy is
-only headstrong in such matters as these. In everything else she is as
-good-natured a girl as ever lived. I will go directly to Mr. Bennet, and
-we shall very soon settle it with her, I am sure.”</p>
-
-<p>She would not give him time to reply, but hurrying instantly to her
-husband, called out, as she entered the library,—</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Mr. Bennet, you are wanted immediately; we are all in an uproar.
-You must come and make Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows she will
-not have him; and if you do not make haste he will change his mind and
-not have <i>her</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_141">{141}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and fixed them
-on her face with a calm unconcern, which was not in the least altered by
-her communication.</p>
-
-<p>“I have not the pleasure of understanding you,” said he, when she had
-finished her speech. “Of what are you talking?”</p>
-
-<p>“Of Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not have Mr. Collins,
-and Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not have Lizzy.”</p>
-
-<p>“And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems a hopeless business.”</p>
-
-<p>“Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon her
-marrying him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was summoned to the
-library.</p>
-
-<p>“Come here, child,” cried her father as she appeared. “I have sent for
-you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr. Collins has made
-you an offer of marriage. Is it true?”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth replied that it was.</p>
-
-<p>“Very well—and this offer of marriage you have refused?”</p>
-
-<p>“I have, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your
-accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs. Bennet?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, or I will never see her again.”</p>
-
-<p>“An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must
-be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you
-again if you do <i>not</i> marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again
-if you <i>do</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_142">{142}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning;
-but Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded the
-affair as she wished, was excessively disappointed.</p>
-
-<p>“What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, by talking in this way? You promised me
-to <i>insist</i> upon her marrying him.”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear,” replied her husband, “I have two small favours to request.
-First, that you will allow me the free use of my understanding on the
-present occasion; and, secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have the
-library to myself as soon as may be.”</p>
-
-<p>Not yet, however, in spite of her disappointment in her husband, did
-Mrs. Bennet give up the point. She talked to Elizabeth again and again;
-coaxed and threatened her by turns. She endeavoured to secure Jane in
-her interest, but Jane, with all possible mildness, declined
-interfering; and Elizabeth, sometimes with real earnestness, and
-sometimes with playful gaiety, replied to her attacks. Though her manner
-varied, however, her determination never did.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Collins, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on what had passed.
-He thought too well of himself to comprehend on what motive his cousin
-could refuse him; and though his pride was hurt, he suffered in no other
-way. His regard for her was quite imaginary; and the possibility of her
-deserving her mother’s reproach prevented his feeling any regret.</p>
-
-<p>While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came to spend
-the day with them. She was met in the vestibule by Lydia, who, flying to
-her, cried in a half whisper, “I am glad you are come, for there is such
-fun here! What do you think has happened this<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_143">{143}</a></span> morning? Mr. Collins has
-made an offer to Lizzy, and she will not have him.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 443px;">
-<img src="images/i_172.jpg" width="443" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-<p>“they entered the breakfast room”</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Charlotte had hardly time to answer before they were joined by Kitty,
-who came to tell the same news; and no sooner had they entered the
-breakfast-room, where Mrs. Bennet was alone, than she likewise began on
-the subject, calling on Miss Lucas for her compassion, and entreating
-her to persuade her friend Lizzy to comply with the wishes of her
-family. “Pray do, my dear Miss<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_144">{144}</a></span> Lucas,” she added, in a melancholy tone;
-“for nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me; I am cruelly used,
-nobody feels for my poor nerves.”</p>
-
-<p>Charlotte’s reply was spared by the entrance of Jane and Elizabeth.</p>
-
-<p>“Ay, there she comes,” continued Mrs. Bennet, “looking as unconcerned as
-may be, and caring no more for us than if we were at York, provided she
-can have her own way. But I tell you what, Miss Lizzy, if you take it
-into your head to go on refusing every offer of marriage in this way,
-you will never get a husband at all—and I am sure I do not know who is
-to maintain you when your father is dead. <i>I</i> shall not be able to keep
-you—and so I warn you. I have done with you from this very day. I told
-you in the library, you know, that I should never speak to you again,
-and you will find me as good as my word. I have no pleasure in talking
-to undutiful children. Not that I have much pleasure, indeed, in talking
-to anybody. People who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have
-no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it
-is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied.”</p>
-
-<p>Her daughters listened in silence to this effusion, sensible that any
-attempt to reason with or soothe her would only increase the irritation.
-She talked on, therefore, without interruption from any of them till
-they were joined by Mr. Collins, who entered with an air more stately
-than usual, and on perceiving whom, she said to the girls,—</p>
-
-<p>“Now, I do insist upon it, that you, all of you, hold your tongues, and
-let Mr. Collins and me have a little conversation together.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_145">{145}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kitty followed, but
-Lydia stood her ground, determined to hear all she could; and Charlotte,
-detained first by the civility of Mr. Collins, whose inquiries after
-herself and all her family were very minute, and then by a little
-curiosity, satisfied herself with walking to the window and pretending
-not to hear. In a doleful voice Mrs. Bennet thus began the projected
-conversation:—</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Mr. Collins!”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear madam,” replied he, “let us be for ever silent on this point.
-Far be it from me,” he presently continued, in a voice that marked his
-displeasure, “to resent the behaviour of your daughter. Resignation to
-inevitable evils is the duty of us all: the peculiar duty of a young man
-who has been so fortunate as I have been, in early preferment; and, I
-trust, I am resigned. Perhaps not the less so from feeling a doubt of my
-positive happiness had my fair cousin honoured me with her hand; for I
-have often observed, that resignation is never so perfect as when the
-blessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in our estimation.
-You will not, I hope, consider me as showing any disrespect to your
-family, my dear madam, by thus withdrawing my pretensions to your
-daughter’s favour, without having paid yourself and Mr. Bennet the
-compliment of requesting you to interpose your authority in my behalf.
-My conduct may, I fear, be objectionable in having accepted my
-dismission from your daughter’s lips instead of your own; but we are all
-liable to error. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair.
-My object has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with due
-consideration for the advantage of all your family; and if my <i>manner</i>
-has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to apologize.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_146">{146}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a><img src="images/i_175_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXI.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_175_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="T"></span>HE discussion of Mr. Collins’s offer was now nearly at an end, and
-Elizabeth had only to suffer from the uncomfortable feelings necessarily
-attending it, and occasionally from some peevish allusion of her mother.
-As for the gentleman himself, <i>his</i> feelings were chiefly expressed, not
-by embarrassment or dejection, or<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_147">{147}</a></span> by trying to avoid her, but by
-stiffness of manner and resentful silence. He scarcely ever spoke to
-her; and the assiduous attentions which he had been so sensible of
-himself were transferred for the rest of the day to Miss Lucas, whose
-civility in listening to him was a seasonable relief to them all, and
-especially to her friend.</p>
-
-<p>The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Bennet’s ill humour or ill
-health. Mr. Collins was also in the same state of angry pride. Elizabeth
-had hoped that his resentment might shorten his visit, but his plan did
-not appear in the least affected by it. He was always to have gone on
-Saturday, and to Saturday he still meant to stay.</p>
-
-<p>After breakfast, the girls walked to Meryton, to inquire if Mr. Wickham
-were returned, and to lament over his absence from the Netherfield ball.
-He joined them on their entering the town, and attended them to their
-aunt’s, where his regret and vexation and the concern of everybody were
-well talked over. To Elizabeth, however, he voluntarily acknowledged
-that the necessity of his absence <i>had</i> been self-imposed.</p>
-
-<p>“I found,” said he, “as the time drew near, that I had better not meet
-Mr. Darcy;—that to be in the same room, the same party with him for so
-many hours together, might be more than I could bear, and that scenes
-might arise unpleasant to more than myself.”</p>
-
-<p>She highly approved his forbearance; and they had leisure for a full
-discussion of it, and for all the commendations which they civilly
-bestowed on each other, as Wickham and another officer walked back with
-them to Longbourn, and during the walk he particularly attended to her.
-His accompanying them was a double advantage: she felt all the
-compliment it offered to herself;<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_148">{148}</a></span> and it was most acceptable as an
-occasion of introducing him to her father and mother.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
-<img src="images/i_177.jpg" width="550" height="438" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption"><p>“Walked back with them”</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet; it came
-from Netherfield, and was opened immediately. The envelope contained a
-sheet of elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady’s
-fair, flowing hand; and Elizabeth saw her sister’s countenance change as
-she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular passages.
-Jane recollected herself soon; and putting the letter away, tried to
-join, with her usual cheerfulness, in the general conversation: but
-Elizabeth felt an anxiety on the subject which drew off her attention
-even from Wickham; and no sooner had he and his companion taken leave,
-than a glance from Jane invited her to follow her upstairs. When they
-had gained their own room, Jane, taking out her letter, said, “This is
-from Caroline Bingley: what it<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_149">{149}</a></span> contains has surprised me a good deal.
-The whole party have left Netherfield by this time, and are on their way
-to town; and without any intention of coming back again. You shall hear
-what she says.”</p>
-
-<p>She then read the first sentence aloud, which comprised the information
-of their having just resolved to follow their brother to town directly,
-and of their meaning to dine that day in Grosvenor Street, where Mr.
-Hurst had a house. The next was in these words:—“<span class="lftspc">‘</span>I do not pretend to
-regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire except your society, my
-dearest friend; but we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many
-returns of that delightful intercourse we have known, and in the
-meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most
-unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that.’<span class="lftspc">”</span> To these
-high-flown expressions Elizabeth listened with all the insensibility of
-distrust; and though the suddenness of their removal surprised her, she
-saw nothing in it really to lament: it was not to be supposed that their
-absence from Netherfield would prevent Mr. Bingley’s being there; and as
-to the loss of their society, she was persuaded that Jane must soon
-cease to regard it in the enjoyment of his.</p>
-
-<p>“It is unlucky,” said she, after a short pause, “that you should not be
-able to see your friends before they leave the country. But may we not
-hope that the period of future happiness, to which Miss Bingley looks
-forward, may arrive earlier than she is aware, and that the delightful
-intercourse you have known as friends will be renewed with yet greater
-satisfaction as sisters? Mr. Bingley will not be detained in London by
-them.”</p>
-
-<p>“Caroline decidedly says that none of the party will return into
-Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_150">{150}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“<span class="lftspc">‘</span>When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which
-took him to London might be concluded in three or four days; but as we
-are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when
-Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have
-determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend
-his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintance are
-already there for the winter: I wish I could hear that you, my dearest
-friend, had any intention of making one in the crowd, but of that I
-despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in
-the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux
-will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of
-whom we shall deprive you.’</p>
-
-<p>“It is evident by this,” added Jane, “that he comes back no more this
-winter.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not mean he <i>should</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why will you think so? It must be his own doing; he is his own master.
-But you do not know <i>all</i>. I <i>will</i> read you the passage which
-particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves from <i>you</i>. ‘Mr. Darcy is
-impatient to see his sister; and to confess the truth, <i>we</i> are scarcely
-less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has
-her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection
-she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still
-more interesting from the hope we dare to entertain of her being
-hereafter our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to
-you my feelings on this subject, but I will not leave the country
-without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_151">{151}</a></span>
-unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; he will have
-frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing; her
-relations all wish the connection as much as his own; and a sister’s
-partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most
-capable of engaging any woman’s heart. With all these circumstances to
-favour an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest
-Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness
-of so many?’ What think you of <i>this</i> sentence, my dear Lizzy?” said
-Jane, as she finished it. “Is it not clear enough? Does it not expressly
-declare that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be her sister;
-that she is perfectly convinced of her brother’s indifference; and that
-if she suspects the nature of my feelings for him she means (most
-kindly!) to put me on my guard. Can there be any other opinion on the
-subject?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Most willingly.”</p>
-
-<p>“You shall have it in a few words. Miss Bingley sees that her brother is
-in love with you and wants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him to
-town in the hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he
-does not care about you.”</p>
-
-<p>Jane shook her head.</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. No one who has ever seen you
-together can doubt his affection; Miss Bingley, I am sure, cannot: she
-is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen half as much love in Mr.
-Darcy for herself, she would have ordered her wedding clothes. But the
-case is this:—we are not rich enough or grand enough for them; and she
-is<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_152">{152}</a></span> the more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion
-that when there has been <i>one</i> inter-marriage, she may have less trouble
-in achieving a second; in which there is certainly some ingenuity, and I
-dare say it would succeed if Miss de Bourgh were out of the way. But, my
-dearest Jane, you cannot seriously imagine that, because Miss Bingley
-tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, he is in the smallest
-degree less sensible of <i>your</i> merit than when he took leave of you on
-Tuesday; or that it will be in her power to persuade him that, instead
-of being in love with you, he is very much in love with her friend.”</p>
-
-<p>“If we thought alike of Miss Bingley,” replied Jane, “your
-representation of all this might make me quite easy. But I know the
-foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of wilfully deceiving
-anyone; and all that I can hope in this case is, that she is deceived
-herself.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea, since you
-will not take comfort in mine: believe her to be deceived, by all means.
-You have now done your duty by her, and must fret no longer.”</p>
-
-<p>“But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even supposing the best, in
-accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to marry
-elsewhere?”</p>
-
-<p>“You must decide for yourself,” said Elizabeth; “and if, upon mature
-deliberation, you find that the misery of disobliging his two sisters is
-more than equivalent to the happiness of being his wife, I advise you,
-by all means, to refuse him.”</p>
-
-<p>“How can you talk so?” said Jane, faintly smiling; “you must know, that,
-though I should be exceedingly grieved at their disapprobation, I could
-not hesitate.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_153">{153}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“I did not think you would; and that being the case, I cannot consider
-your situation with much compassion.”</p>
-
-<p>“But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never be
-required. A thousand things may arise in six months.”</p>
-
-<p>The idea of his returning no more Elizabeth treated with the utmost
-contempt. It appeared to her merely the suggestion of Caroline’s
-interested wishes; and she could not for a moment suppose that those
-wishes, however openly or artfully spoken, could influence a young man
-so totally independent of everyone.</p>
-
-<p>She represented to her sister, as forcibly as possible, what she felt on
-the subject, and had soon the pleasure of seeing its happy effect.
-Jane’s temper was not desponding; and she was gradually led to hope,
-though the diffidence of affection sometimes overcame the hope, that
-Bingley would return to Netherfield, and answer every wish of her heart.</p>
-
-<p>They agreed that Mrs. Bennet should only hear of the departure of the
-family, without being alarmed on the score of the gentleman’s conduct;
-but even this partial communication gave her a great deal of concern,
-and she bewailed it as exceedingly unlucky that the ladies should happen
-to go away just as they were all getting so intimate together. After
-lamenting it, however, at some length, she had the consolation of
-thinking that Mr. Bingley would be soon down again, and soon dining at
-Longbourn; and the conclusion of all was the comfortable declaration,
-that, though he had been invited only to a family dinner, she would take
-care to have two full courses.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_154">{154}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a><img src="images/i_183_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_183_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="T"></span>HE Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucases; and again, during the
-chief of the day, was Miss Lucas so kind as to listen to Mr. Collins.
-Elizabeth took an opportunity of thanking her. “It keeps him in good
-humour,” said she, “and I am more obliged to you than I can express.”</p>
-
-<p>Charlotte assured her friend of her satisfaction in being useful, and
-that it amply repaid her for the little sacrifice of her time. This was
-very amiable; but Charlotte’s kindness extended farther than Elizabeth
-had any conception of:—its object was nothing less than to secure her
-from any return of Mr. Collins’s addresses, by engaging them towards
-herself. Such was Miss Lucas’s scheme; and appearances were so
-favourable, that when they parted at night, she would have felt almost
-sure of success if he had not been to leave Hertfordshire so very soon.
-But here she did injustice to the fire and independence of his
-character; for it led him to escape out of Longbourn House the next
-morning with<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_155">{155}</a></span> admirable slyness, and hasten to Lucas Lodge to throw
-himself at her feet. He was anxious to avoid the notice of his cousins,
-from a conviction that, if they saw him depart, they could not fail to
-conjecture his design, and he was not willing to have the attempt known
-till its success could be known likewise; for, though feeling almost
-secure, and with reason, for Charlotte had been tolerably encouraging,
-he was comparatively diffident since the adventure of Wednesday. His
-reception, however, was of the most flattering kind. Miss Lucas
-perceived him from an upper window as he walked towards the house, and
-instantly set out to meet him accidentally in the lane. But little had
-she dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited her there.</p>
-
-<p>In as short a time as Mr. Collins’s long speeches would allow,
-everything was settled between them to the satisfaction of both; and as
-they entered the house, he earnestly entreated her to name the day that
-was to make him the happiest of men; and though such a solicitation must
-be waived for the present, the lady felt no inclination to trifle with
-his happiness. The stupidity with which he was favoured by nature must
-guard his courtship from any charm that could make a woman wish for its
-continuance; and Miss Lucas, who accepted him solely from the pure and
-disinterested desire of an establishment, cared not how soon that
-establishment were gained.</p>
-
-<p>Sir William and Lady Lucas were speedily applied to for their consent;
-and it was bestowed with a most joyful alacrity. Mr. Collins’s present
-circumstances made it a most eligible match for their daughter, to whom
-they could give little fortune; and his prospects of future wealth were
-exceedingly fair. Lady Lucas began directly to calculate, with more
-interest than the matter had ever<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_156">{156}</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 371px;">
-<img src="images/i_185.jpg" width="371" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p>“So much love and eloquence”</p></div>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="nind">excited before, how many years longer Mr. Bennet was likely to live; and
-Sir William gave it as his decided opinion, that whenever Mr. Collins
-should be in possession of the Longbourn estate, it would be highly
-expedient that both he and his wife should make their appearance at St.
-James’s. The whole family in short were properly overjoyed on the
-occasion. The younger girls formed<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_157">{157}</a></span> hopes of <i>coming out</i> a year or two
-sooner than they might otherwise have done; and the boys were relieved
-from their apprehension of Charlotte’s dying an old maid. Charlotte
-herself was tolerably composed. She had gained her point, and had time
-to consider of it. Her reflections were in general satisfactory. Mr.
-Collins, to be sure, was neither sensible nor agreeable: his society was
-irksome, and his attachment to her must be imaginary. But still he would
-be her husband. Without thinking highly either of men or of matrimony,
-marriage had always been her object: it was the only honourable
-provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and, however
-uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative
-from want. This preservative she had now obtained; and at the age of
-twenty-seven, without having ever been handsome, she felt all the good
-luck of it. The least agreeable circumstance in the business was the
-surprise it must occasion to Elizabeth Bennet, whose friendship she
-valued beyond that of any other person. Elizabeth would wonder, and
-probably would blame her; and though her resolution was not to be
-shaken, her feelings must be hurt by such a disapprobation. She resolved
-to give her the information herself; and therefore charged Mr. Collins,
-when he returned to Longbourn to dinner, to drop no hint of what had
-passed before any of the family. A promise of secrecy was of course very
-dutifully given, but it could not be kept without difficulty; for the
-curiosity excited by his long absence burst forth in such very direct
-questions on his return, as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was
-at the same time exercising great self-denial, for he was longing to
-publish his prosperous love.</p>
-
-<p>As he was to begin his journey too early on the morrow<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_158">{158}</a></span> to see any of
-the family, the ceremony of leave-taking was performed when the ladies
-moved for the night; and Mrs. Bennet, with great politeness and
-cordiality, said how happy they should be to see him at Longbourn again,
-whenever his other engagements might allow him to visit them.</p>
-
-<p>“My dear madam,” he replied, “this invitation is particularly
-gratifying, because it is what I have been hoping to receive; and you
-may be very certain that I shall avail myself of it as soon as
-possible.”</p>
-
-<p>They were all astonished; and Mr. Bennet, who could by no means wish for
-so speedy a return, immediately said,—</p>
-
-<p>“But is there not danger of Lady Catherine’s disapprobation here, my
-good sir? You had better neglect your relations than run the risk of
-offending your patroness.”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear sir,” replied Mr. Collins, “I am particularly obliged to you
-for this friendly caution, and you may depend upon my not taking so
-material a step without her Ladyship’s concurrence.”</p>
-
-<p>“You cannot be too much on your guard. Risk anything rather than her
-displeasure; and if you find it likely to be raised by your coming to us
-again, which I should think exceedingly probable, stay quietly at home,
-and be satisfied that <i>we</i> shall take no offence.”</p>
-
-<p>“Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly excited by such
-affectionate attention; and, depend upon it, you will speedily receive
-from me a letter of thanks for this as well as for every other mark of
-your regard during my stay in Hertfordshire. As for my fair cousins,
-though my absence may not be long enough to render it necessary, I shall
-now take the liberty of wishing them health and happiness, not excepting
-my cousin Elizabeth.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_159">{159}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>With proper civilities, the ladies then withdrew; all of them equally
-surprised to find that he meditated a quick return. Mrs. Bennet wished
-to understand by it that he thought of paying his addresses to one of
-her younger girls, and Mary might have been prevailed on to accept him.
-She rated his abilities much higher than any of the others: there was a
-solidity in his reflections which often struck her; and though by no
-means so clever as herself, she thought that, if encouraged to read and
-improve himself by such an example as hers, he might become a very
-agreeable companion. But on the following morning every hope of this
-kind was done away. Miss Lucas called soon after breakfast, and in a
-private conference with Elizabeth related the event of the day before.</p>
-
-<p>The possibility of Mr. Collins’s fancying himself in love with her
-friend had once occurred to Elizabeth within the last day or two: but
-that Charlotte could encourage him seemed almost as far from possibility
-as that she could encourage him herself; and her astonishment was
-consequently so great as to overcome at first the bounds of decorum, and
-she could not help crying out,—</p>
-
-<p>“Engaged to Mr. Collins! my dear Charlotte, impossible!”</p>
-
-<p>The steady countenance which Miss Lucas had commanded in telling her
-story gave way to a momentary confusion here on receiving so direct a
-reproach; though, as it was no more than she expected, she soon regained
-her composure, and calmly replied,—</p>
-
-<p>“Why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? Do you think it incredible
-that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman’s good opinion,
-because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_160">{160}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>But Elizabeth had now recollected herself; and, making a strong effort
-for it, was able to assure her, with tolerable firmness, that the
-prospect of their relationship was highly grateful to her, and that she
-wished her all imaginable happiness.</p>
-
-<p>“I see what you are feeling,” replied Charlotte; “you must be surprised,
-very much surprised, so lately as Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you.
-But when you have had time to think it all over, I hope you will be
-satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic, you know. I never
-was. I ask only a comfortable home; and, considering Mr. Collins’s
-character, connections, and situation in life, I am convinced that my
-chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on
-entering the marriage state.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth quietly answered “undoubtedly;” and, after an awkward pause,
-they returned to the rest of the family. Charlotte did not stay much
-longer; and Elizabeth was then left to reflect on what she had heard. It
-was a long time before she became at all reconciled to the idea of so
-unsuitable a match. The strangeness of Mr. Collins’s making two offers
-of marriage within three days was nothing in comparison of his being now
-accepted. She had always felt that Charlotte’s opinion of matrimony was
-not exactly like her own; but she could not have supposed it possible
-that, when called into action, she would have sacrificed every better
-feeling to worldly advantage. Charlotte, the wife of Mr. Collins, was a
-most humiliating picture! And to the pang of a friend disgracing
-herself, and sunk in her esteem, was added the distressing conviction
-that it was impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot
-she had chosen.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_161">{161}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a><img src="images/i_190_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“Protested he must be entirely mistaken.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_190_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="E"></span>LIZABETH was sitting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on what
-she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorized to mention it,
-when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent by his daughter to
-announce her engagement to the family. With many compliments to them,
-and much self-gratulation on the prospect of a connection between the
-houses, he unfolded the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_162">{162}</a></span> matter,—to an audience not merely wondering,
-but incredulous; for Mrs. Bennet, with more perseverance than
-politeness, protested he must be entirely mistaken; and Lydia, always
-unguarded and often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed,—</p>
-
-<p>“Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not you know
-that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?”</p>
-
-<p>Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne
-without anger such treatment: but Sir William’s good-breeding carried
-him through it all; and though he begged leave to be positive as to the
-truth of his information, he listened to all their impertinence with the
-most forbearing courtesy.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so unpleasant
-a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his account, by
-mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte herself; and
-endeavoured to put a stop to the exclamations of her mother and sisters,
-by the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir William, in which she
-was readily joined by Jane, and by making a variety of remarks on the
-happiness that might be expected from the match, the excellent character
-of Mr. Collins, and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet was, in fact, too much overpowered to say a great deal while
-Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them than her feelings
-found a rapid vent. In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving
-the whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that Mr. Collins
-had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they would never be happy
-together; and, fourthly, that the match might be broken off. Two
-inferences, however,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_163">{163}</a></span> were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that
-Elizabeth was the real cause of all the mischief; and the other, that
-she herself had been barbarously used by them all; and on these two
-points she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could
-console and nothing appease her. Nor did that day wear out her
-resentment. A week elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without
-scolding her: a month passed away before she could speak to Sir William
-or Lady Lucas without being rude; and many months were gone before she
-could at all forgive their daughter.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bennet’s emotions were much more tranquil on the occasion, and such
-as he did experience he pronounced to be of a most agreeable sort; for
-it gratified him, he said, to discover that Charlotte Lucas, whom he had
-been used to think tolerably sensible, was as foolish as his wife, and
-more foolish than his daughter!</p>
-
-<p>Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match: but she said
-less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their happiness;
-nor could Elizabeth persuade her to consider it as improbable. Kitty and
-Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was only a
-clergyman; and it affected them in no other way than as a piece of news
-to spread at Meryton.</p>
-
-<p>Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to retort on
-Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well married; and she
-called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was,
-though Mrs. Bennet’s sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have been
-enough to drive happiness away.</p>
-
-<p>Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint which kept them
-mutually silent on the subject; and Elizabeth felt persuaded that no
-real confidence could<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_164">{164}</a></span> ever subsist between them again. Her
-disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with fonder regard to her
-sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy she was sure her opinion could
-never be shaken, and for whose happiness she grew daily more anxious, as
-Bingley had now been gone a week, and nothing was heard of his return.</p>
-
-<p>Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her letter, and was counting
-the days till she might reasonably hope to hear again. The promised
-letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their
-father, and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a
-twelve-month’s abode in the family might have prompted. After
-discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform them,
-with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the
-affection of their amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, and then explained
-that it was merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had
-been so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him again at
-Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight;
-for Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that
-she wished it to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would
-be an unanswerable argument with his amiable Charlotte to name an early
-day for making him the happiest of men.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Collins’s return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of
-pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On the contrary, she was as much disposed to
-complain of it as her husband. It was very strange that he should come
-to Longbourn instead of to Lucas Lodge; it was also very inconvenient
-and exceedingly troublesome. She hated having visitors in the house
-while her health was so indifferent, and lovers were of all people the
-most disagreeable. Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Bennet, and they
-gave way<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_165">{165}</a></span> only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley’s continued
-absence.</p>
-
-<p>Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject. Day after
-day passed away without bringing any other tidings of him than the
-report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to
-Netherfield the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs.
-Bennet, and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous
-falsehood.</p>
-
-<p>Even Elizabeth began to fear—not that Bingley was indifferent—but that
-his sisters would be successful in keeping him away. Unwilling as she
-was to admit an idea so destructive to Jane’s happiness, and so
-dishonourable to the stability of her lover, she could not prevent its
-frequently recurring. The united efforts of his two unfeeling sisters,
-and of his overpowering friend, assisted by the attractions of Miss
-Darcy and the amusements of London, might be too much, she feared, for
-the strength of his attachment.</p>
-
-<p>As for Jane, <i>her</i> anxiety under this suspense was, of course, more
-painful than Elizabeth’s: but whatever she felt she was desirous of
-concealing; and between herself and Elizabeth, therefore, the subject
-was never alluded to. But as no such delicacy restrained her mother, an
-hour seldom passed in which she did not talk of Bingley, express her
-impatience for his arrival, or even require Jane to confess that if he
-did not come back she should think herself very ill-used. It needed all
-Jane’s steady mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable
-tranquillity.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Collins returned most punctually on the Monday fortnight, but his
-reception at Longbourn was not quite so gracious as it had been on his
-first introduction. He was too happy, however, to need much attention;
-and,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_166">{166}</a></span> luckily for the others, the business of love-making relieved them
-from a great deal of his company. The chief of every day was spent by
-him at Lucas Lodge, and he sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time
-to make an apology for his absence before the family went to bed.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 538px;">
-<img src="images/i_195.jpg" width="538" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>“<i>Whenever she spoke in a low voice</i>”</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The very mention of
-anything concerning the match threw her into an agony of ill-humour, and
-wherever she went she was sure of hearing it talked of. The sight of
-Miss Lucas was odious to her. As her successor in that house, she<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_167">{167}</a></span>
-regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte came to see
-them, she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession; and
-whenever she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, was convinced that
-they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and resolving to turn herself
-and her daughters out of the house as soon as Mr. Bennet was dead. She
-complained bitterly of all this to her husband.</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed, Mr. Bennet,” said she, “it is very hard to think that Charlotte
-Lucas should ever be mistress of this house, that <i>I</i> should be forced
-to make way for <i>her</i>, and live to see her take my place in it!”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for
-better things. Let us flatter ourselves that <i>I</i> may be the survivor.”</p>
-
-<p>This was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet; and, therefore, instead of
-making any answer, she went on as before.</p>
-
-<p>“I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate. If it was
-not for the entail, I should not mind it.”</p>
-
-<p>“What should not you mind?”</p>
-
-<p>“I should not mind anything at all.”</p>
-
-<p>“Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such
-insensibility.”</p>
-
-<p>“I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for anything about the entail. How
-anyone could have the conscience to entail away an estate from one’s own
-daughters I cannot understand; and all for the sake of Mr. Collins, too!
-Why should <i>he</i> have it more than anybody else?”</p>
-
-<p>“I leave it to yourself to determine,” said Mr. Bennet.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_168">{168}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a><img src="images/i_197_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_197_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="M"></span>ISS BINGLEY’S letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very first
-sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled in London for
-the winter, and concluded with her brother’s regret at not having had
-time to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he left
-the country.</p>
-
-<p>Hope was over, entirely over; and when Jane could attend to the rest of
-the letter, she found little, except the professed affection of the
-writer, that could give her any comfort. Miss Darcy’s praise occupied
-the chief of it. Her many attractions were again dwelt on; and Caroline
-boasted joyfully of their increasing intimacy, and ventured to predict
-the accomplishment of the wishes which had been unfolded in her former
-letter. She wrote also with great pleasure of her brother’s being an
-inmate of Mr. Darcy’s house, and mentioned with raptures some plans of
-the latter with regard to new furniture.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_169">{169}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief of all this,
-heard it in silent indignation. Her heart was divided between concern
-for her sister and resentment against all others. To Caroline’s
-assertion of her brother’s being partial to Miss Darcy, she paid no
-credit. That he was really fond of Jane, she doubted no more than she
-had ever done; and much as she had always been disposed to like him, she
-could not think without anger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness
-of temper, that want of proper resolution, which now made him the slave
-of his designing friends, and led him to sacrifice his own happiness to
-the caprice of their inclinations. Had his own happiness, however, been
-the only sacrifice, he might have been allowed to sport with it in
-whatever manner he thought best; but her sister’s was involved in it, as
-she thought he must be sensible himself. It was a subject, in short, on
-which reflection would be long indulged, and must be unavailing. She
-could think of nothing else; and yet, whether Bingley’s regard had
-really died away, or were suppressed by his friends’ interference;
-whether he had been aware of Jane’s attachment, or whether it had
-escaped his observation; whichever were the case, though her opinion of
-him must be materially affected by the difference, her sister’s
-situation remained the same, her peace equally wounded.</p>
-
-<p>A day or two passed before Jane had courage to speak of her feelings to
-Elizabeth; but at last, on Mrs. Bennet’s leaving them together, after a
-longer irritation than usual about Netherfield and its master, she could
-not help saying,—</p>
-
-<p>“O that my dear mother had more command over herself! she can have no
-idea of the pain she gives me by her continual reflections on him. But I
-will not<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_170">{170}</a></span> repine. It cannot last long. He will be forgot, and we shall
-all be as we were before.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, but said
-nothing.</p>
-
-<p>“You doubt me,” cried Jane, slightly colouring; “indeed, you have no
-reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable man of my
-acquaintance but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and
-nothing to reproach him with. Thank God I have not <i>that</i> pain. A little
-time, therefore—I shall certainly try to get the better——”</p>
-
-<p>With a stronger voice she soon added, “I have this comfort immediately,
-that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that it
-has done no harm to anyone but myself.”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear Jane,” exclaimed Elizabeth, “you are too good. Your sweetness
-and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know what to say to
-you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or loved you as you
-deserve.”</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, and threw back
-the praise on her sister’s warm affection.</p>
-
-<p>“Nay,” said Elizabeth, “this is not fair. <i>You</i> wish to think all the
-world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. <i>I</i> only want
-to think <i>you</i> perfect, and you set yourself against it. Do not be
-afraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching on your
-privilege of universal good-will. You need not. There are few people
-whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see
-of the world the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms
-my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the
-little dependence that can be placed on the appearance<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_171">{171}</a></span> of either merit
-or sense. I have met with two instances lately: one I will not mention,
-the other is Charlotte’s marriage. It is unaccountable! in every view it
-is unaccountable!”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these. They will
-ruin your happiness. You do not make allowance enough for difference of
-situation and temper. Consider Mr. Collins’s respectability, and
-Charlotte’s prudent, steady character. Remember that she is one of a
-large family; that as to fortune it is a most eligible match; and be
-ready to believe, for everybody’s sake, that she may feel something like
-regard and esteem for our cousin.”</p>
-
-<p>“To oblige you, I would try to believe almost anything, but no one else
-could be benefited by such a belief as this; for were I persuaded that
-Charlotte had any regard for him, I should only think worse of her
-understanding than I now do of her heart. My dear Jane, Mr. Collins is a
-conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly man: you know he is, as well as
-I do; and you must feel, as well as I do, that the woman who marries him
-cannot have a proper way of thinking. You shall not defend her, though
-it is Charlotte Lucas. You shall not, for the sake of one individual,
-change the meaning of principle and integrity, nor endeavour to persuade
-yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence, and insensibility of
-danger security for happiness.”</p>
-
-<p>“I must think your language too strong in speaking of both,” replied
-Jane; “and I hope you will be convinced of it, by seeing them happy
-together. But enough of this. You alluded to something else. You
-mentioned <i>two</i> instances. I cannot misunderstand you, but I entreat
-you, dear Lizzy, not to pain me by thinking <i>that person</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_172">{172}</a></span> to blame, and
-saying your opinion of him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy
-ourselves intentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young man
-to be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing but
-our own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration means more than
-it does.”</p>
-
-<p>“And men take care that they should.”</p>
-
-<p>“If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; but I have no idea
-of there being so much design in the world as some persons imagine.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Bingley’s conduct to design,”
-said Elizabeth; “but, without scheming to do wrong, or to make others
-unhappy, there may be error and there may be misery. Thoughtlessness,
-want of attention to other people’s feelings, and want of resolution,
-will do the business.”</p>
-
-<p>“And do you impute it to either of those?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; to the last. But if I go on I shall displease you by saying what I
-think of persons you esteem. Stop me, whilst you can.”</p>
-
-<p>“You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence him?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, in conjunction with his friend.”</p>
-
-<p>“I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence him? They can
-only wish his happiness; and if he is attached to me no other woman can
-secure it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Your first position is false. They may wish many things besides his
-happiness: they may wish his increase of wealth and consequence; they
-may wish him to marry a girl who has all the importance of money, great
-connections, and pride.”</p>
-
-<p>“Beyond a doubt they do wish him to choose Miss Darcy,” replied Jane;
-“but this may be from better<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_173">{173}</a></span> feelings than you are supposing. They have
-known her much longer than they have known me; no wonder if they love
-her better. But, whatever may be their own wishes, it is very unlikely
-they should have opposed their brother’s. What sister would think
-herself at liberty to do it, unless there were something very
-objectionable? If they believed him attached to me they would not try to
-part us; if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such an
-affection, you make everybody acting unnaturally and wrong, and me most
-unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am not ashamed of having been
-mistaken—or, at least, it is slight, it is nothing in comparison of
-what I should feel in thinking ill of him or his sisters. Let me take it
-in the best light, in the light in which it may be understood.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth could not oppose such a wish; and from this time Mr. Bingley’s
-name was scarcely ever mentioned between them.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet still continued to wonder and repine at his returning no
-more; and though a day seldom passed in which Elizabeth did not account
-for it clearly, there seemed little chance of her ever considering it
-with less perplexity. Her daughter endeavoured to convince her of what
-she did not believe herself, that his attentions to Jane had been merely
-the effect of a common and transient liking, which ceased when he saw
-her no more; but though the probability of the statement was admitted at
-the time, she had the same story to repeat every day. Mrs. Bennet’s best
-comfort was, that Mr. Bingley must be down again in the summer.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bennet treated the matter differently. “So, Lizzy,” said he, one
-day, “your sister is crossed in love, I find. I congratulate her. Next
-to being married, a girl likes to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_174">{174}</a></span> be crossed in love a little now and
-then. It is something to think of, and gives her a sort of distinction
-among her companions. When is your turn to come? You will hardly bear to
-be long outdone by Jane. Now is your time. Here are officers enough at
-Meryton to disappoint all the young ladies in the country. Let Wickham
-be your man. He is a pleasant fellow, and would jilt you creditably.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. We must not
-all expect Jane’s good fortune.”</p>
-
-<p>“True,” said Mr. Bennet; “but it is a comfort to think that, whatever of
-that kind may befall you, you have an affectionate mother who will
-always make the most of it.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Wickham’s society was of material service in dispelling the gloom
-which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on many of the Longbourn
-family. They saw him often, and to his other recommendations was now
-added that of general unreserve. The whole of what Elizabeth had already
-heard, his claims on Mr. Darcy, and all that he had suffered from him,
-was now openly acknowledged and publicly canvassed; and everybody was
-pleased to think how much they had always disliked Mr. Darcy before they
-had known anything of the matter.</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bennet was the only creature who could suppose there might be any
-extenuating circumstances in the case unknown to the society of
-Hertfordshire: her mild and steady candour always pleaded for
-allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes; but by everybody else
-Mr. Darcy was condemned as the worst of men.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_175">{175}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a><img src="images/i_204_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXV.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_204_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="A"></span>FTER a week spent in professions of love and schemes of felicity, Mr.
-Collins was called from his amiable Charlotte by the arrival of
-Saturday. The pain of separation, however, might be alleviated on his
-side by preparations for the reception of his bride, as he had reason to
-hope, that shortly after his next return into Hertfordshire, the day
-would be fixed that was to make him the happiest of men. He took leave
-of his relations at Longbourn with as much solemnity as before; wished
-his fair cousins health and happiness again, and promised their father
-another letter of thanks.</p>
-
-<p>On the following Monday, Mrs. Bennet had the pleasure of receiving her
-brother and his wife, who came, as usual, to spend the Christmas at
-Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, gentlemanlike man, greatly
-superior to his sister, as well by nature as education. The Netherfield
-ladies would have had difficulty in believing that a man who lived by
-trade, and within view of his own warehouses, could have been so
-well-bred and agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger
-than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips, was an amiable, intelligent,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_176">{176}</a></span> elegant
-woman, and a great favourite with her Longbourn nieces. Between the two
-eldest and herself especially, there subsisted a very particular regard.
-They had frequently been staying with her in town.</p>
-
-<p>The first part of Mrs. Gardiner’s business, on her arrival, was to
-distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions. When this was
-done, she had a less active part to play. It became her turn to listen.
-Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to relate, and much to complain of. They
-had all been very ill-used since she last saw her sister. Two of her
-girls had been on the point of marriage, and after all there was nothing
-in it.</p>
-
-<p>“I do not blame Jane,” she continued, “for Jane would have got Mr.
-Bingley if she could. But, Lizzy! Oh, sister! it is very hard to think
-that she might have been Mr. Collins’s wife by this time, had not it
-been for her own perverseness. He made her an offer in this very room,
-and she refused him. The consequence of it is, that Lady Lucas will have
-a daughter married before I have, and that Longbourn estate is just as
-much entailed as ever. The Lucases are very artful people, indeed,
-sister. They are all for what they can get. I am sorry to say it of
-them, but so it is. It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be thwarted
-so in my own family, and to have neighbours who think of themselves
-before anybody else. However, your coming just at this time is the
-greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us of
-long sleeves.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news had been given before, in
-the course of Jane and Elizabeth’s correspondence with her, made her
-sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to her nieces, turned the
-conversation.</p>
-
-<p>When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she spoke more<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_177">{177}</a></span> on the subject.
-“It seems likely to have been a desirable match for Jane,” said she. “I
-am sorry it went off. But these things happen so often! A young man,
-such as you describe Mr. Bingley, so easily falls in love with a pretty
-girl for a few weeks, and, when accident separates them, so easily
-forgets her, that these sort of inconstancies are very frequent.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 462px;">
-<img src="images/i_206.jpg" width="462" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p>“Offended two or three young ladies”</p></div>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“An excellent consolation in its way,” said Elizabeth; “but it will not
-do for <i>us</i>. We do not suffer by accident.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_178">{178}</a></span> It does not often happen
-that the interference of friends will persuade a young man of
-independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he was violently in
-love with only a few days before.”</p>
-
-<p>“But that expression of ‘violently in love’ is so hackneyed, so
-doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me very little idea. It is as
-often applied to feelings which arise only from a half hour’s
-acquaintance, as to a real, strong attachment. Pray, how <i>violent was</i>
-Mr. Bingley’s love?”</p>
-
-<p>“I never saw a more promising inclination; he was growing quite
-inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by her. Every time
-they met, it was more decided and remarkable. At his own ball he
-offended two or three young ladies by not asking them to dance; and I
-spoke to him twice myself without receiving an answer. Could there be
-finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes! of that kind of love which I suppose him to have felt. Poor
-Jane! I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she may not get
-over it immediately. It had better have happened to <i>you</i>, Lizzy; you
-would have laughed yourself out of it sooner. But do you think she would
-be prevailed on to go back with us? Change of scene might be of
-service—and perhaps a little relief from home may be as useful as
-anything.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, and felt persuaded
-of her sister’s ready acquiescence.</p>
-
-<p>“I hope,” added Mrs. Gardiner, “that no consideration with regard to
-this young man will influence her. We live in so different a part of
-town, all our connections are so different, and, as you well know, we go
-out so little, that it is very improbable they should meet at all,
-unless he really comes to see her.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_179">{179}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“And <i>that</i> is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his
-friend, and Mr. Darcy would no more suffer him to call on Jane in such a
-part of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr. Darcy may,
-perhaps, have <i>heard</i> of such a place as Gracechurch Street, but he
-would hardly think a month’s ablution enough to cleanse him from its
-impurities, were he once to enter it; and, depend upon it, Mr. Bingley
-never stirs without him.”</p>
-
-<p>“So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does not Jane
-correspond with his sister? <i>She</i> will not be able to help calling.”</p>
-
-<p>“She will drop the acquaintance entirely.”</p>
-
-<p>But, in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place this
-point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley’s being
-withheld from seeing Jane, she felt a solicitude on the subject which
-convinced her, on examination, that she did not consider it entirely
-hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes she thought it probable, that
-his affection might be re-animated, and the influence of his friends
-successfully combated by the more natural influence of Jane’s
-attractions.</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bennet accepted her aunt’s invitation with pleasure; and the
-Bingleys were no otherwise in her thoughts at the same time than as she
-hoped, by Caroline’s not living in the same house with her brother, she
-might occasionally spend a morning with her, without any danger of
-seeing him.</p>
-
-<p>The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn; and what with the Philipses,
-the Lucases, and the officers, there was not a day without its
-engagement. Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided for the entertainment
-of her brother and sister, that they did not once sit down to a family
-dinner. When the engagement was for home,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_180">{180}</a></span> some of the officers always
-made part of it, of which officers Mr. Wickham was sure to be one; and
-on these occasions Mrs. Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Elizabeth’s
-warm commendation of him, narrowly observed them both. Without supposing
-them, from what she saw, to be very seriously in love, their preference
-of each other was plain enough to make her a little uneasy; and she
-resolved to speak to Elizabeth on the subject before she left
-Hertfordshire, and represent to her the imprudence of encouraging such
-an attachment.</p>
-
-<p>To Mrs. Gardiner, Wickham had one means of affording pleasure,
-unconnected with his general powers. About ten or a dozen years ago,
-before her marriage, she had spent a considerable time in that very part
-of Derbyshire to which he belonged. They had, therefore, many
-acquaintance in common; and, though Wickham had been little there since
-the death of Darcy’s father, five years before, it was yet in his power
-to give her fresher intelligence of her former friends than she had been
-in the way of procuring.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Gardiner had seen Pemberley, and known the late Mr. Darcy by
-character perfectly well. Here, consequently, was an inexhaustible
-subject of discourse. In comparing her recollection of Pemberley with
-the minute description which Wickham could give, and in bestowing her
-tribute of praise on the character of its late possessor, she was
-delighting both him and herself. On being made acquainted with the
-present Mr. Darcy’s treatment of him, she tried to remember something of
-that gentleman’s reputed disposition, when quite a lad, which might
-agree with it; and was confident, at last, that she recollected having
-heard Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy formerly spoken of as a very proud,
-ill-natured boy.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_181">{181}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a><img src="images/i_210_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“Will you come and see me.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_210_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="M"></span>RS. GARDINER’S caution to Elizabeth was punctually and kindly given on
-the first favourable opportunity of speaking to her alone: after
-honestly telling her what she thought, she thus went on:—</p>
-
-<p>“You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in love merely because you
-are warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of speaking
-openly. Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. Do not involve
-yourself, or endeavour to involve him, in an affection which the want of
-fortune would make so very imprudent. I have nothing to say against
-<i>him</i>: he is a most interesting young man; and if he had the fortune he
-ought to have, I should think you could not do better. But as it is—you
-must not let your fancy run away with you. You<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_182">{182}</a></span> have sense, and we all
-expect you to use it. Your father would depend on <i>your</i> resolution and
-good conduct, I am sure. You must not disappoint your father.”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care of
-myself, and of Mr. Wickham too. He shall not be in love with me, if I
-can prevent it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Elizabeth, you are not serious now.”</p>
-
-<p>“I beg your pardon. I will try again. At present I am not in love with
-Mr. Wickham; no, I certainly am not. But he is, beyond all comparison,
-the most agreeable man I ever saw—and if he becomes really attached to
-me—I believe it will be better that he should not. I see the imprudence
-of it. Oh, <i>that</i> abominable Mr. Darcy! My father’s opinion of me does
-me the greatest honour; and I should be miserable to forfeit it. My
-father, however, is partial to Mr. Wickham. In short, my dear aunt, I
-should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy; but
-since we see, every day, that where there is affection young people are
-seldom withheld, by immediate want of fortune, from entering into
-engagements with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so many
-of my fellow-creatures, if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that
-it would be wiser to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is
-not to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his
-first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In
-short, I will do my best.”</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so very
-often. At least you should not <i>remind</i> your mother of inviting him.”</p>
-
-<p>“As I did the other day,” said Elizabeth, with a con<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_183">{183}</a></span>scious smile; “very
-true, it will be wise in me to refrain from <i>that</i>. But do not imagine
-that he is always here so often. It is on your account that he has been
-so frequently invited this week. You know my mother’s ideas as to the
-necessity of constant company for her friends. But really, and upon my
-honour, I will try to do what I think to be wisest; and now I hope you
-are satisfied.”</p>
-
-<p>Her aunt assured her that she was; and Elizabeth, having thanked her for
-the kindness of her hints, they parted,—a wonderful instance of advice
-being given on such a point without being resented.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had been quitted
-by the Gardiners and Jane; but, as he took up his abode with the
-Lucases, his arrival was no great inconvenience to Mrs. Bennet. His
-marriage was now fast approaching; and she was at length so far resigned
-as to think it inevitable, and even repeatedly to say, in an ill-natured
-tone, that she “<i>wished</i> they might be happy.” Thursday was to be the
-wedding-day, and on Wednesday Miss Lucas paid her farewell visit; and
-when she rose to take leave, Elizabeth, ashamed of her mother’s
-ungracious and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected herself,
-accompanied her out of the room. As they went down stairs together,
-Charlotte said,—</p>
-
-<p>“I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza.”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>That</i> you certainly shall.”</p>
-
-<p>“And I have another favour to ask. Will you come and see me?”</p>
-
-<p>“We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, therefore, to
-come to Hunsford.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth could not refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure in the
-visit.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_184">{184}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“My father and Maria are to come to me in March,” added Charlotte, “and
-I hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will be
-as welcome to me as either of them.”</p>
-
-<p>The wedding took place: the bride and bridegroom set off for Kent from
-the church door, and everybody had as much to say or to hear on the
-subject as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from her friend, and their
-correspondence was as regular and frequent as it ever had been: that it
-should be equally unreserved was impossible. Elizabeth could never
-address her without feeling that all the comfort of intimacy was over;
-and, though determined not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for the
-sake of what had been rather than what was. Charlotte’s first letters
-were received with a good deal of eagerness: there could not but be
-curiosity to know how she would speak of her new home, how she would
-like Lady Catherine, and how happy she would dare pronounce herself to
-be; though, when the letters were read, Elizabeth felt that Charlotte
-expressed herself on every point exactly as she might have foreseen. She
-wrote cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing
-which she could not praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, and
-roads, were all to her taste, and Lady Catherine’s behaviour was most
-friendly and obliging. It was Mr. Collins’s picture of Hunsford and
-Rosings rationally softened; and Elizabeth perceived that she must wait
-for her own visit there, to know the rest.</p>
-
-<p>Jane had already written a few lines to her sister, to announce their
-safe arrival in London; and when she wrote again, Elizabeth hoped it
-would be in her power to say something of the Bingleys.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_185">{185}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Her impatience for this second letter was as well rewarded as impatience
-generally is. Jane had been a week in town, without either seeing or
-hearing from Caroline. She accounted for it, however, by supposing that
-her last letter to her friend from Longbourn had by some accident been
-lost.</p>
-
-<p>“My aunt,” she continued, “is going to-morrow into that part of the
-town, and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor Street.”</p>
-
-<p>She wrote again when the visit was paid, and she had seen Miss Bingley.
-“I did not think Caroline in spirits,” were her words, “but she was very
-glad to see me, and reproached me for giving her no notice of my coming
-to London. I was right, therefore; my last letter had never reached her.
-I inquired after their brother, of course. He was well, but so much
-engaged with Mr. Darcy that they scarcely ever saw him. I found that
-Miss Darcy was expected to dinner: I wish I could see her. My visit was
-not long, as Caroline and Mrs. Hurst were going out. I dare say I shall
-soon see them here.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth shook her head over this letter. It convinced her that
-accident only could discover to Mr. Bingley her sister’s being in town.</p>
-
-<p>Four weeks passed away, and Jane saw nothing of him. She endeavoured to
-persuade herself that she did not regret it; but she could no longer be
-blind to Miss Bingley’s inattention. After waiting at home every morning
-for a fortnight, and inventing every evening a fresh excuse for her, the
-visitor did at last appear; but the shortness of her stay, and, yet
-more, the alteration of her manner, would allow Jane to deceive herself
-no longer. The letter which she wrote on this occasion to her sister
-will prove what she felt:<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_186">{186}</a></span>—</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p>“My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, be incapable of triumphing in
-her better judgment, at my expense, when I confess myself to have
-been entirely deceived in Miss Bingley’s regard for me. But, my
-dear sister, though the event has proved you right, do not think me
-obstinate if I still assert that, considering what her behaviour
-was, my confidence was as natural as your suspicion. I do not at
-all comprehend her reason for wishing to be intimate with me; but,
-if the same circumstances were to happen again, I am sure I should
-be deceived again. Caroline did not return my visit till yesterday;
-and not a note, not a line, did I receive in the meantime. When she
-did come, it was very evident that she had no pleasure in it; she
-made a slight, formal apology for not calling before, said not a
-word of wishing to see me again, and was, in every respect, so
-altered a creature, that when she went away I was perfectly
-resolved to continue the acquaintance no longer. I pity, though I
-cannot help blaming, her. She was very wrong in singling me out as
-she did; I can safely say, that every advance to intimacy began on
-her side. But I pity her, because she must feel that she has been
-acting wrong, and because I am very sure that anxiety for her
-brother is the cause of it. I need not explain myself farther; and
-though <i>we</i> know this anxiety to be quite needless, yet if she
-feels it, it will easily account for her behaviour to me; and so
-deservedly dear as he is to his sister, whatever anxiety she may
-feel on his behalf is natural and amiable. I cannot but wonder,
-however, at her having any such fears now, because if he had at all
-cared about me, we must have met long, long ago. He knows of my
-being in town, I am certain, from something she said herself; and
-yet it would seem, by her manner of talking,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_187">{187}</a></span> as if she wanted to
-persuade herself that he is really partial to Miss Darcy. I cannot
-understand it. If I were not afraid of judging harshly, I should be
-almost tempted to say, that there is a strong appearance of
-duplicity in all this. I will endeavour to banish every painful
-thought, and think only of what will make me happy, your affection,
-and the invariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me hear
-from you very soon. Miss Bingley said something of his never
-returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, but not
-with any certainty. We had better not mention it. I am extremely
-glad that you have such pleasant accounts from our friends at
-Hunsford. Pray go to see them, with Sir William and Maria. I am
-sure you will be very comfortable there.</p>
-
-<p class="rt">
-“Yours, etc.”<br>
-</p></div>
-
-<p>This letter gave Elizabeth some pain; but her spirits returned, as she
-considered that Jane would no longer be duped, by the sister at least.
-All expectation from the brother was now absolutely over. She would not
-even wish for any renewal of his attentions. His character sunk on every
-review of it; and, as a punishment for him, as well as a possible
-advantage to Jane, she seriously hoped he might really soon marry Mr.
-Darcy’s sister, as, by Wickham’s account, she would make him abundantly
-regret what he had thrown away.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Gardiner about this time reminded Elizabeth of her promise
-concerning that gentleman, and required information; and Elizabeth had
-such to send as might rather give contentment to her aunt than to
-herself. His apparent partiality had subsided, his attentions were over,
-he was the admirer of some one else. Elizabeth was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_188">{188}</a></span> watchful enough to
-see it all, but she could see it and write of it without material pain.
-Her heart had been but slightly touched, and her vanity was satisfied
-with believing that <i>she</i> would have been his only choice, had fortune
-permitted it. The sudden acquisition of ten thousand pounds was the most
-remarkable charm of the young lady to whom he was now rendering himself
-agreeable; but Elizabeth, less clear-sighted perhaps in this case than
-in Charlotte’s, did not quarrel with him for his wish of independence.
-Nothing, on the contrary, could be more natural; and, while able to
-suppose that it cost him a few struggles to relinquish her, she was
-ready to allow it a wise and desirable measure for both, and could very
-sincerely wish him happy.</p>
-
-<p>All this was acknowledged to Mrs. Gardiner; and, after relating the
-circumstances, she thus went on:—“I am now convinced, my dear aunt,
-that I have never been much in love; for had I really experienced that
-pure and elevating passion, I should at present detest his very name,
-and wish him all manner of evil. But my feelings are not only cordial
-towards <i>him</i>, they are even impartial towards Miss King. I cannot find
-out that I hate her at all, or that I am in the least unwilling to think
-her a very good sort of girl. There can be no love in all this. My
-watchfulness has been effectual; and though I should certainly be a more
-interesting object to all my acquaintance, were I distractedly in love
-with him, I cannot say that I regret my comparative insignificance.
-Importance may sometimes be purchased too dearly. Kitty and Lydia take
-his defection much more to heart than I do. They are young in the ways
-of the world, and not yet open to the mortifying conviction that
-handsome young men must have something to live on as well as the
-plain.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_189">{189}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a><img src="images/i_218_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“On the Stairs.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTERXXVII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_218_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="W"></span>ITH no greater events than these in the Longbourn family, and otherwise
-diversified by little beyond the walks to Meryton, sometimes dirty and
-sometimes cold, did January and February pass away. March was to take
-Elizabeth to Hunsford. She had not at first thought very seriously of
-going thither; but Charlotte, she soon found, was depending on the
-plan,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_190">{190}</a></span> and she gradually learned to consider it herself with greater
-pleasure as well as greater certainty. Absence had increased her desire
-of seeing Charlotte again, and weakened her disgust of Mr. Collins.
-There was novelty in the scheme; and as, with such a mother and such
-uncompanionable sisters, home could not be faultless, a little change
-was not unwelcome for its own sake. The journey would, moreover, give
-her a peep at Jane; and, in short, as the time drew near, she would have
-been very sorry for any delay. Everything, however, went on smoothly,
-and was finally settled according to Charlotte’s first sketch. She was
-to accompany Sir William and his second daughter. The improvement of
-spending a night in London was added in time, and the plan became as
-perfect as plan could be.</p>
-
-<p>The only pain was in leaving her father, who would certainly miss her,
-and who, when it came to the point, so little liked her going, that he
-told her to write to him, and almost promised to answer her letter.</p>
-
-<p>The farewell between herself and Mr. Wickham was perfectly friendly; on
-his side even more. His present pursuit could not make him forget that
-Elizabeth had been the first to excite and to deserve his attention, the
-first to listen and to pity, the first to be admired; and in his manner
-of bidding her adieu, wishing her every enjoyment, reminding her of what
-she was to expect in Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and trusting their
-opinion of her—their opinion of everybody—would always coincide, there
-was a solicitude, an interest, which she felt must ever attach her to
-him with a most sincere regard; and she parted from him convinced, that,
-whether married or single, he must always be her model of the amiable
-and pleasing.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_191">{191}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Her fellow-travellers the next day were not of a kind to make her think
-him less agreeable. Sir William Lucas, and his daughter Maria, a
-good-humoured girl, but as empty-headed as himself, had nothing to say
-that could be worth hearing, and were listened to with about as much
-delight as the rattle of the chaise. Elizabeth loved absurdities, but
-she had known Sir William’s too long. He could tell her nothing new of
-the wonders of his presentation and knighthood; and his civilities were
-worn out, like his information.</p>
-
-<p>It was a journey of only twenty-four miles, and they began it so early
-as to be in Gracechurch Street by noon. As they drove to Mr. Gardiner’s
-door, Jane was at a drawing-room window watching their arrival: when
-they entered the passage, she was there to welcome them, and Elizabeth,
-looking earnestly in her face, was pleased to see it healthful and
-lovely as ever. On the stairs were a troop of little boys and girls,
-whose eagerness for their cousin’s appearance would not allow them to
-wait in the drawing-room, and whose shyness, as they had not seen her
-for a twelvemonth, prevented their coming lower. All was joy and
-kindness. The day passed most pleasantly away; the morning in bustle and
-shopping, and the evening at one of the theatres.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth then contrived to sit by her aunt. Their first subject was her
-sister; and she was more grieved than astonished to hear, in reply to
-her minute inquiries, that though Jane always struggled to support her
-spirits, there were periods of dejection. It was reasonable, however, to
-hope that they would not continue long. Mrs. Gardiner gave her the
-particulars also of Miss Bingley’s visit in Gracechurch Street, and
-repeated conversations occurring at different times between Jane and
-herself,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_192">{192}</a></span> which proved that the former had, from her heart, given up the
-acquaintance.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Gardiner then rallied her niece on Wickham’s desertion, and
-complimented her on bearing it so well.</p>
-
-<p>“But, my dear Elizabeth,” she added, “what sort of girl is Miss King? I
-should be sorry to think our friend mercenary.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pray, my dear aunt, what is the difference in matrimonial affairs,
-between the mercenary and the prudent motive? Where does discretion end,
-and avarice begin? Last Christmas you were afraid of his marrying me,
-because it would be imprudent; and now, because he is trying to get a
-girl with only ten thousand pounds, you want to find out that he is
-mercenary.”</p>
-
-<p>“If you will only tell me what sort of girl Miss King is, I shall know
-what to think.”</p>
-
-<p>“She is a very good kind of girl, I believe. I know no harm of her.”</p>
-
-<p>“But he paid her not the smallest attention till her grandfather’s death
-made her mistress of this fortune?”</p>
-
-<p>“No—why should he? If it were not allowable for him to gain <i>my</i>
-affections, because I had no money, what occasion could there be for
-making love to a girl whom he did not care about, and who was equally
-poor?”</p>
-
-<p>“But there seems indelicacy in directing his attentions towards her so
-soon after this event.”</p>
-
-<p>“A man in distressed circumstances has not time for all those elegant
-decorums which other people may observe. If <i>she</i> does not object to it,
-why should <i>we</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Her</i> not objecting does not justify <i>him</i>. It only shows her being
-deficient in something herself—sense or feeling.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_193">{193}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” cried Elizabeth, “have it as you choose. <i>He</i> shall be
-mercenary, and <i>she</i> shall be foolish.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, Lizzy, that is what I do <i>not</i> choose. I should be sorry, you know,
-to think ill of a young man who has lived so long in Derbyshire.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, if that is all, I have a very poor opinion of young men who live in
-Derbyshire; and their intimate friends who live in Hertfordshire are not
-much better. I am sick of them all. Thank heaven! I am going to-morrow
-where I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who has
-neither manners nor sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones
-worth knowing, after all.”</p>
-
-<p>“Take care, Lizzy; that speech savours strongly of disappointment.”</p>
-
-<p>Before they were separated by the conclusion of the play, she had the
-unexpected happiness of an invitation to accompany her uncle and aunt in
-a tour of pleasure which they proposed taking in the summer.</p>
-
-<p>“We have not quite determined how far it shall carry us,” said Mrs.
-Gardiner; “but perhaps, to the Lakes.”</p>
-
-<p>No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, and her
-acceptance of the invitation was most ready and grateful. “My dear, dear
-aunt,” she rapturously cried, “what delight! what felicity! You give me
-fresh life and vigour. Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What are men
-to rocks and mountains? Oh, what hours of transport we shall spend! And
-when we <i>do</i> return, it shall not be like other travellers, without
-being able to give one accurate idea of anything. We <i>will</i> know where
-we have gone—we <i>will</i> recollect what we have seen. Lakes, mountains,
-and rivers, shall not be jumbled together in our imaginations; nor, when
-we attempt to describe any particular scene, will we begin quarrelling
-about its relative situation. Let <i>our</i> first effusions be less
-insupportable than those of the generality of travellers.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_194">{194}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a><img src="images/i_223_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“At the door.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTERXXVIII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_223_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="E"></span>VERY object in the next day’s journey was new and interesting to
-Elizabeth; and her spirits were in a state of enjoyment; for she had
-seen her sister looking so well as to banish all fear for her health,
-and the prospect of her northern tour was a constant source of delight.</p>
-
-<p>When they left the high road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye was in
-search of the Parsonage, and every turning expected to bring it in view.
-The paling of Rosings park was their boundary on one side. Elizabeth
-smiled at the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants.</p>
-
-<p>At length the Parsonage was discernible. The garden<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_195">{195}</a></span> sloping to the
-road, the house standing in it, the green pales and the laurel hedge,
-everything declared they were arriving. Mr. Collins and Charlotte
-appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at the small gate, which
-led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and smiles of
-the whole party. In a moment they were all out of the chaise, rejoicing
-at the sight of each other. Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend with the
-liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with
-coming, when she found herself so affectionately received. She saw
-instantly that her cousin’s manners were not altered by his marriage:
-his formal civility was just what it had been; and he detained her some
-minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his inquiries after all her
-family. They were then, with no other delay than his pointing out the
-neatness of the entrance, taken into the house; and as soon as they were
-in the parlour, he welcomed them a second time, with ostentatious
-formality, to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his wife’s
-offers of refreshment.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; and she could not help
-fancying that in displaying the good proportion of the room, its aspect,
-and its furniture, he addressed himself particularly to her, as if
-wishing to make her feel what she had lost in refusing him. But though
-everything seemed neat and comfortable, she was not able to gratify him
-by any sigh of repentance; and rather looked with wonder at her friend,
-that she could have so cheerful an air with such a companion. When Mr.
-Collins said anything of which his wife might reasonably be ashamed,
-which certainly was not seldom, she involuntarily turned her eye on
-Charlotte. Once or twice she could discern a faint blush; but in general
-Charlotte<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_196">{196}</a></span> wisely did not hear. After sitting long enough to admire
-every article of furniture in the room, from the sideboard to the
-fender, to give an account of their journey, and of all that had
-happened in London, Mr. Collins invited them to take a stroll in the
-garden, which was large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of
-which he attended himself. To work in his garden was one of his most
-respectable pleasures; and Elizabeth admired the command of countenance
-with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of the exercise, and
-owned she encouraged it as much as possible. Here, leading the way
-through every walk and cross walk, and scarcely allowing them an
-interval to utter the praises he asked for, every view was pointed out
-with a minuteness which left beauty entirely behind. He could number the
-fields in every direction, and could tell how many trees there were in
-the most distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, or which
-the country or the kingdom could boast, none were to be compared with
-the prospect of Rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees that
-bordered the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It was a
-handsome modern building, well situated on rising ground.</p>
-
-<p>From his garden, Mr. Collins would have led them round his two meadows;
-but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter the remains of a white
-frost, turned back; and while Sir William accompanied him, Charlotte
-took her sister and friend over the house, extremely well pleased,
-probably, to have the opportunity of showing it without her husband’s
-help. It was rather small, but well built and convenient; and everything
-was fitted up and arranged with a neatness and consistency, of which
-Elizabeth gave Charlotte all the credit. When Mr. Collins could be
-forgotten, there was really a great air of comfort<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_197">{197}</a></span> throughout, and by
-Charlotte’s evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed he must be often
-forgotten.</p>
-
-<p>She had already learnt that Lady Catherine was still in the country. It
-was spoken of again while they were at dinner, when Mr. Collins joining
-in, observed,—</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing Lady Catherine
-de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I need not say you will
-be delighted with her. She is all affability and condescension, and I
-doubt not but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice when
-service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying that she will
-include you and my sister Maria in every invitation with which she
-honours us during your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is
-charming. We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to
-walk home. Her Ladyship’s carriage is regularly ordered for us. I
-<i>should</i> say, one of her Ladyship’s carriages, for she has several.”</p>
-
-<p>“Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman, indeed,” added
-Charlotte, “and a most attentive neighbour.”</p>
-
-<p>“Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is the sort of
-woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference.”</p>
-
-<p>The evening was spent chiefly in talking over Hertfordshire news, and
-telling again what had been already written; and when it closed,
-Elizabeth, in the solitude of her chamber, had to meditate upon
-Charlotte’s degree of contentment, to understand her address in guiding,
-and composure in bearing with, her husband, and to acknowledge that it
-was all done very well. She had also to anticipate how her visit would
-pass, the quiet tenour of their usual employments, the vexatious
-interruptions of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_198">{198}</a></span> Mr. Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse
-with Rosings. A lively imagination soon settled it all.</p>
-
-<p>About the middle of the next day, as she was in her room getting ready
-for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to speak the whole house in
-confusion; and, after listening a moment, she heard somebody running
-upstairs in a violent hurry, and calling loudly after her. She opened
-the door, and met Maria in the landing-place, who, breathless with
-agitation, cried out,—</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
-<img src="images/i_227.jpg" width="550" height="514" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p>“In Conversation with the ladies”</p></div>
-
-<p>[Copyright 1894 by George Allen.]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come into the dining-room, for
-there is such a sight to be seen! I will not tell you what it is. Make
-haste, and come down this moment.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_199">{199}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth asked questions in vain; Maria would tell her nothing more;
-and down they ran into the dining-room which fronted the lane, in quest
-of this wonder; it was two ladies, stopping in a low phaeton at the
-garden gate.</p>
-
-<p>“And is this all?” cried Elizabeth. “I expected at least that the pigs
-were got into the garden, and here is nothing but Lady Catherine and her
-daughter!”</p>
-
-<p>“La! my dear,” said Maria, quite shocked at the mistake, “it is not Lady
-Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives with them. The
-other is Miss De Bourgh. Only look at her. She is quite a little
-creature. Who would have thought she could be so thin and small!”</p>
-
-<p>“She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors in all this wind.
-Why does she not come in?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Charlotte says she hardly ever does. It is the greatest of favours
-when Miss De Bourgh comes in.”</p>
-
-<p>“I like her appearance,” said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas. “She
-looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will
-make him a very proper wife.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the gate in conversation
-with the ladies; and Sir William, to Elizabeth’s high diversion, was
-stationed in the doorway, in earnest contemplation of the greatness
-before him, and constantly bowing whenever Miss De Bourgh looked that
-way.</p>
-
-<p>At length there was nothing more to be said; the ladies drove on, and
-the others returned into the house. Mr. Collins no sooner saw the two
-girls than he began to congratulate them on their good fortune, which
-Charlotte explained by letting them know that the whole party was asked
-to dine at Rosings the next day.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_200">{200}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a><img src="images/i_229_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“Lady Catherine, said she, you have given me a treasure.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_229_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="M"></span>R. COLLINS’S triumph, in consequence of this invitation, was complete.
-The power of displaying the grandeur of his patroness to his wondering
-visitors, and of letting them see her civility towards himself and his
-wife, was exactly what he had wished for; and that an opportunity of
-doing it should be given so soon was such an instance of Lady
-Catherine’s condescension as he knew not how to admire enough.</p>
-
-<p>“I confess,” said he, “that I should not have been at all surprised by
-her Ladyship’s asking us on Sunday to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_201">{201}</a></span> drink tea and spend the evening
-at Rosings. I rather expected, from my knowledge of her affability, that
-it would happen. But who could have foreseen such an attention as this?
-Who could have imagined that we should receive an invitation to dine
-there (an invitation, moreover, including the whole party) so
-immediately after your arrival?”</p>
-
-<p>“I am the less surprised at what has happened,” replied Sir William,
-“from that knowledge of what the manners of the great really are, which
-my situation in life has allowed me to acquire. About the court, such
-instances of elegant breeding are not uncommon.”</p>
-
-<p>Scarcely anything was talked of the whole day or next morning but their
-visit to Rosings. Mr. Collins was carefully instructing them in what
-they were to expect, that the sight of such rooms, so many servants, and
-so splendid a dinner, might not wholly overpower them.</p>
-
-<p>When the ladies were separating for the toilette, he said to
-Elizabeth,—</p>
-
-<p>“Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your apparel. Lady
-Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of dress in us which
-becomes herself and daughter. I would advise you merely to put on
-whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest—there is no occasion
-for anything more. Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you for
-being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank
-preserved.”</p>
-
-<p>While they were dressing, he came two or three times to their different
-doors, to recommend their being quick, as Lady Catherine very much
-objected to be kept waiting for her dinner. Such formidable accounts of
-her Ladyship, and her manner of living, quite frightened Maria<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_202">{202}</a></span> Lucas,
-who had been little used to company; and she looked forward to her
-introduction at Rosings with as much apprehension as her father had done
-to his presentation at St. James’s.</p>
-
-<p>As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk of about half a mile
-across the park. Every park has its beauty and its prospects; and
-Elizabeth saw much to be pleased with, though she could not be in such
-raptures as Mr. Collins expected the scene to inspire, and was but
-slightly affected by his enumeration of the windows in front of the
-house, and his relation of what the glazing altogether had originally
-cost Sir Lewis de Bourgh.</p>
-
-<p>When they ascended the steps to the hall, Maria’s alarm was every moment
-increasing, and even Sir William did not look perfectly calm.
-Elizabeth’s courage did not fail her. She had heard nothing of Lady
-Catherine that spoke her awful from any extraordinary talents or
-miraculous virtue, and the mere stateliness of money and rank she
-thought she could witness without trepidation.</p>
-
-<p>From the entrance hall, of which Mr. Collins pointed out, with a
-rapturous air, the fine proportion and finished ornaments, they followed
-the servants through an antechamber to the room where Lady Catherine,
-her daughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson were sitting. Her Ladyship, with great
-condescension, arose to receive them; and as Mrs. Collins had settled it
-with her husband that the office of introduction should be hers, it was
-performed in a proper manner, without any of those apologies and thanks
-which he would have thought necessary.</p>
-
-<p>In spite of having been at St. James’s, Sir William was so completely
-awed by the grandeur surrounding him, that he had but just courage
-enough to make a very<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_203">{203}</a></span> low bow, and take his seat without saying a word;
-and his daughter, frightened almost out of her senses, sat on the edge
-of her chair, not knowing which way to look. Elizabeth found herself
-quite equal to the scene, and could observe the three ladies before her
-composedly. Lady Catherine was a tall, large woman, with strongly-marked
-features, which might once have been handsome. Her air was not
-conciliating, nor was her manner of receiving them such as to make her
-visitors forget their inferior rank. She was not rendered formidable by
-silence: but whatever she said was spoken in so authoritative a tone as
-marked her self-importance, and brought Mr. Wickham immediately to
-Elizabeth’s mind; and, from the observation of the day altogether, she
-believed Lady Catherine to be exactly what he had represented.</p>
-
-<p>When, after examining the mother, in whose countenance and deportment
-she soon found some resemblance of Mr. Darcy, she turned her eyes on the
-daughter, she could almost have joined in Maria’s astonishment at her
-being so thin and so small. There was neither in figure nor face any
-likeness between the ladies. Miss de Bourgh was pale and sickly: her
-features, though not plain, were insignificant; and she spoke very
-little, except in a low voice, to Mrs. Jenkinson, in whose appearance
-there was nothing remarkable, and who was entirely engaged in listening
-to what she said, and placing a screen in the proper direction before
-her eyes.</p>
-
-<p>After sitting a few minutes, they were all sent to one of the windows to
-admire the view, Mr. Collins attending them to point out its beauties,
-and Lady Catherine kindly informing them that it was much better worth
-looking at in the summer.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_204">{204}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were all the servants,
-and all the articles of plate which Mr. Collins had promised; and, as he
-had likewise foretold, he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by
-her Ladyship’s desire, and looked as if he felt that life could furnish
-nothing greater. He carved and ate and praised with delighted alacrity;
-and every dish was commended first by him, and then by Sir William, who
-was now enough recovered to echo whatever his son-in-law said, in a
-manner which Elizabeth wondered Lady Catherine could bear. But Lady
-Catherine seemed gratified by their excessive admiration, and gave most
-gracious smiles, especially when any dish on the table proved a novelty
-to them. The party did not supply much conversation. Elizabeth was ready
-to speak whenever there was an opening, but she was seated between
-Charlotte and Miss de Bourgh—the former of whom was engaged in
-listening to Lady Catherine, and the latter said not a word to her all
-the dinnertime. Mrs. Jenkinson was chiefly employed in watching how
-little Miss de Bourgh ate, pressing her to try some other dish and
-fearing she was indisposed. Maria thought speaking out of the question,
-and the gentlemen did nothing but eat and admire.</p>
-
-<p>When the ladies returned to the drawing-room, there was little to be
-done but to hear Lady Catherine talk, which she did without any
-intermission till coffee came in, delivering her opinion on every
-subject in so decisive a manner as proved that she was not used to have
-her judgment controverted. She inquired into Charlotte’s domestic
-concerns familiarly and minutely, and gave her a great deal of advice as
-to the management of them all; told her how everything ought to be
-regulated in so<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_205">{205}</a></span> small a family as hers, and instructed her as to the
-care of her cows and her poultry. Elizabeth found that nothing was
-beneath this great lady’s attention which could furnish her with an
-occasion for dictating to others. In the intervals of her discourse with
-Mrs. Collins, she addressed a variety of questions to Maria and
-Elizabeth, but especially to the latter, of whose connections she knew
-the least, and who, she observed to Mrs. Collins, was a very genteel,
-pretty kind of girl. She asked her at different times how many sisters
-she had, whether they were older or younger than herself, whether any of
-them were likely to be married, whether they were handsome, where they
-had been educated, what carriage her father kept, and what had been her
-mother’s maiden name? Elizabeth felt all the impertinence of her
-questions, but answered them very composedly. Lady Catherine then
-observed,—</p>
-
-<p>“Your father’s estate is entailed on Mr. Collins, I think? For your
-sake,” turning to Charlotte, “I am glad of it; but otherwise I see no
-occasion for entailing estates from the female line. It was not thought
-necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s family. Do you play and sing, Miss
-Bennet?”</p>
-
-<p>“A little.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh then—some time or other we shall be happy to hear you. Our
-instrument is a capital one, probably superior to —— you shall try it
-some day. Do your sisters play and sing?”</p>
-
-<p>“One of them does.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why did not you all learn? You ought all to have learned. The Miss
-Webbs all play, and their father has not so good an income as yours. Do
-you draw?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, not at all.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_206">{206}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“What, none of you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not one.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother
-should have taken you to town every spring for the benefit of masters.”</p>
-
-<p>“My mother would have no objection, but my father hates London.”</p>
-
-<p>“Has your governess left you?”</p>
-
-<p>“We never had any governess.”</p>
-
-<p>“No governess! How was that possible? Five daughters brought up at home
-without a governess! I never heard of such a thing. Your mother must
-have been quite a slave to your education.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth could hardly help smiling, as she assured her that had not
-been the case.</p>
-
-<p>“Then who taught you? who attended to you? Without a governess, you must
-have been neglected.”</p>
-
-<p>“Compared with some families, I believe we were; but such of us as
-wished to learn never wanted the means. We were always encouraged to
-read, and had all the masters that were necessary. Those who chose to be
-idle certainly might.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ay, no doubt: but that is what a governess will prevent; and if I had
-known your mother, I should have advised her most strenuously to engage
-one. I always say that nothing is to be done in education without steady
-and regular instruction, and nobody but a governess can give it. It is
-wonderful how many families I have been the means of supplying in that
-way. I am always glad to get a young person well placed out. Four nieces
-of Mrs. Jenkinson are most delightfully situated through my means; and
-it was but the other day that I recommended another young person, who
-was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_207">{207}</a></span> merely accidentally mentioned to me, and the family are quite
-delighted with her. Mrs. Collins, did I tell you of Lady Metcalfe’s
-calling yesterday to thank me? She finds Miss Pope a treasure. ‘Lady
-Catherine,’ said she, ‘you have given me a treasure.’ Are any of your
-younger sisters out, Miss Bennet?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, ma’am, all.”</p>
-
-<p>“All! What, all five out at once? Very odd! And you only the second. The
-younger ones out before the elder are married! Your younger sisters must
-be very young?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps <i>she</i> is full young to be much
-in company. But really, ma’am, I think it would be very hard upon
-younger sisters that they should not have their share of society and
-amusement, because the elder may not have the means or inclination to
-marry early. The last born has as good a right to the pleasures of youth
-as the first. And to be kept back on <i>such</i> a motive! I think it would
-not be very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind.”</p>
-
-<p>“Upon my word,” said her Ladyship, “you give your opinion very decidedly
-for so young a person. Pray, what is your age?”</p>
-
-<p>“With three younger sisters grown up,” replied Elizabeth, smiling, “your
-Ladyship can hardly expect me to own it.”</p>
-
-<p>Lady Catherine seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct answer;
-and Elizabeth suspected herself to be the first creature who had ever
-dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence.</p>
-
-<p>“You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure,—therefore you need not
-conceal your age.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am not one-and-twenty.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_208">{208}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>When the gentlemen had joined them, and tea was over, the card tables
-were placed. Lady Catherine, Sir William, and Mr. and Mrs. Collins sat
-down to quadrille; and as Miss De Bourgh chose to play at cassino, the
-two girls had the honour of assisting Mrs. Jenkinson to make up her
-party. Their table was superlatively stupid. Scarcely a syllable was
-uttered that did not relate to the game, except when Mrs. Jenkinson
-expressed her fears of Miss De Bourgh’s being too hot or too cold, or
-having too much or too little light. A great deal more passed at the
-other table. Lady Catherine was generally speaking—stating the mistakes
-of the three others, or relating some anecdote of herself. Mr. Collins
-was employed in agreeing to everything her Ladyship said, thanking her
-for every fish he won, and apologizing if he thought he won too many.
-Sir William did not say much. He was storing his memory with anecdotes
-and noble names.</p>
-
-<p>When Lady Catherine and her daughter had played as long as they chose,
-the tables were broken up, the carriage was offered to Mrs. Collins,
-gratefully accepted, and immediately ordered. The party then gathered
-round the fire to hear Lady Catherine determine what weather they were
-to have on the morrow. From these instructions they were summoned by the
-arrival of the coach; and with many speeches of thankfulness on Mr.
-Collins’s side, and as many bows on Sir William’s, they departed. As
-soon as they had driven from the door, Elizabeth was called on by her
-cousin to give her opinion of all that she had seen at Rosings, which,
-for Charlotte’s sake, she made more favourable than it really was. But
-her commendation, though costing her some trouble, could by no means
-satisfy Mr. Collins, and he was very soon obliged to take her Ladyship’s
-praise into his own hands.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_209">{209}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a><img src="images/i_238_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXX.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_238_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="S"></span>IR WILLIAM stayed only a week at Hunsford; but his visit was long
-enough to convince him of his daughter’s being most comfortably settled,
-and of her possessing such a husband and such a neighbour as were not
-often met with. While Sir William was with them, Mr. Collins devoted his
-mornings to driving him out in his gig, and showing him the country: but
-when he went away, the whole family returned to their usual employments,
-and Elizabeth was thankful to find that they did not see more of her
-cousin by the alteration; for the chief of the time between breakfast
-and dinner was now passed by him either at work in the garden, or in
-reading and writing, and looking out of window in his own book room,
-which fronted the road.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_210">{210}</a></span> The room in which the ladies sat was backwards.
-Elizabeth at first had rather wondered that Charlotte should not prefer
-the dining parlour for common use; it was a better sized room, and had a
-pleasanter aspect: but she soon saw that her friend had an excellent
-reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been
-much less in his own apartment had they sat in one equally lively; and
-she gave Charlotte credit for the arrangement.</p>
-
-<p>From the drawing-room they could distinguish nothing in the lane, and
-were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of what carriages went
-along, and how often especially Miss De Bourgh drove by in her phaeton,
-which he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened
-almost every day. She not unfrequently stopped at the Parsonage, and had
-a few minutes’ conversation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever
-prevailed on to get out.</p>
-
-<p>Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did not walk to Rosings, and
-not many in which his wife did not think it necessary to go likewise;
-and till Elizabeth recollected that there might be other family livings
-to be disposed of, she could not understand the sacrifice of so many
-hours. Now and then they were honoured with a call from her Ladyship,
-and nothing escaped her observation that was passing in the room during
-these visits. She examined into their employments, looked at their work,
-and advised them to do it differently; found fault with the arrangement
-of the furniture, or detected the housemaid in negligence; and if she
-accepted any refreshment, seemed to do it only for the sake of finding
-out that Mrs. Collins’s joints of meat were too large for her family.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_211">{211}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth soon perceived, that though this great lady was not in the
-commission of the peace for the county, she was a most active magistrate
-in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which were carried to her by
-Mr. Collins; and whenever any of the cottagers were disposed to be
-quarrelsome, discontented, or too poor, she sallied forth into the
-village to settle their differences, silence their complaints, and scold
-them into harmony and plenty.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
-<img src="images/i_240.jpg" width="550" height="536" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>“he never failed to inform them”</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated about twice a week;
-and, allowing for the loss of Sir William, and there being only one
-card-table in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_212">{212}</a></span> evening, every such entertainment was the counterpart
-of the first. Their other engagements were few, as the style of living
-of the neighbourhood in general was beyond the Collinses’ reach. This,
-however, was no evil to Elizabeth, and upon the whole she spent her time
-comfortably enough: there were half hours of pleasant conversation with
-Charlotte, and the weather was so fine for the time of year, that she
-had often great enjoyment out of doors. Her favourite walk, and where
-she frequently went while the others were calling on Lady Catherine, was
-along the open grove which edged that side of the park, where there was
-a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value but herself, and
-where she felt beyond the reach of Lady Catherine’s curiosity.</p>
-
-<p>In this quiet way the first fortnight of her visit soon passed away.
-Easter was approaching, and the week preceding it was to bring an
-addition to the family at Rosings, which in so small a circle must be
-important. Elizabeth had heard, soon after her arrival, that Mr. Darcy
-was expected there in the course of a few weeks; and though there were
-not many of her acquaintance whom she did not prefer, his coming would
-furnish one comparatively new to look at in their Rosings parties, and
-she might be amused in seeing how hopeless Miss Bingley’s designs on him
-were, by his behaviour to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined
-by Lady Catherine, who talked of his coming with the greatest
-satisfaction, spoke of him in terms of the highest admiration, and
-seemed almost angry to find that he had already been frequently seen by
-Miss Lucas and herself.</p>
-
-<p>His arrival was soon known at the Parsonage; for Mr. Collins was walking
-the whole morning within view of the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane,
-in order to have<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_213">{213}</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 472px;">
-<img src="images/i_242.jpg" width="472" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>
-“The gentlemen accompanied him.”<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="nind">the earliest assurance of it; and, after making his bow as the carriage
-turned into the park, hurried home with the great intelligence. On the
-following morning he hastened to Rosings to pay his respects. There were
-two nephews of Lady Catherine to require them, for Mr. Darcy had brought
-with him a Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of his uncle, Lord ——;
-and, to the great surprise of all the party, when Mr. Collins returned,
-the gentlemen accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them from her
-husband’s room, crossing the road, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_214">{214}</a></span> immediately running into the
-other, told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding,—</p>
-
-<p>“I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would
-never have come so soon to wait upon me.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the compliment
-before their approach was announced by the door-bell, and shortly
-afterwards the three gentlemen entered the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam,
-who led the way, was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and
-address most truly the gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had been
-used to look in Hertfordshire, paid his compliments, with his usual
-reserve, to Mrs. Collins; and whatever might be his feelings towards her
-friend, met her with every appearance of composure. Elizabeth merely
-courtesied to him, without saying a word.</p>
-
-<p>Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly, with the
-readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly; but
-his cousin, after having addressed a slight observation on the house and
-garden to Mrs. Collins, sat for some time without speaking to anybody.
-At length, however, his civility was so far awakened as to inquire of
-Elizabeth after the health of her family. She answered him in the usual
-way; and, after a moment’s pause, added,—</p>
-
-<p>“My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never
-happened to see her there?”</p>
-
-<p>She was perfectly sensible that he never had: but she wished to see
-whether he would betray any consciousness of what had passed between the
-Bingleys and Jane; and she thought he looked a little confused as he
-answered that he had never been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet. The
-subject was pursued no further, and the gentlemen soon afterwards went
-away.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_215">{215}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a><img src="images/i_244_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>
-CHAPTER XXXI.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_244_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="C"></span>OLONEL FITZWILLIAM’S manners were very much admired at the Parsonage,
-and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably to the pleasure of
-their engagements at Rosings. It was some days, however, before they
-received any invitation thither, for while there were visitors in the
-house they could not be necessary; and it was not till Easter-day,
-almost a week after the gentlemen’s arrival, that they were honoured by
-such an attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to
-come there in the evening. For the last week they had seen very little
-of either Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had called
-at the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_216">{216}</a></span> Parsonage more than once during the time, but Mr. Darcy they had
-only seen at church.</p>
-
-<p>The invitation was accepted, of course, and at a proper hour they joined
-the party in Lady Catherine’s drawing-room. Her Ladyship received them
-civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so
-acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact,
-almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy,
-much more than to any other person in the room.</p>
-
-<p>Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them: anything was a
-welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins’s pretty friend had,
-moreover, caught his fancy very much. He now seated himself by her, and
-talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying
-at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so
-well entertained in that room before; and they conversed with so much
-spirit and flow as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself, as
-well as of Mr. Darcy. <i>His</i> eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned
-towards them with a look of curiosity; and that her Ladyship, after a
-while, shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged, for she did not
-scruple to call out,—</p>
-
-<p>“What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking
-of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.”</p>
-
-<p>“We were talking of music, madam,” said he, when no longer able to avoid
-a reply.</p>
-
-<p>“Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I
-must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music.
-There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_217">{217}</a></span>
-enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever
-learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her
-health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have
-performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister’s proficiency.</p>
-
-<p>“I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,” said Lady
-Catherine; “and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel,
-if she does not practise a great deal.”</p>
-
-<p>“I assure you, madam,” he replied, “that she does not need such advice.
-She practises very constantly.”</p>
-
-<p>“So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write
-to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often
-tell young ladies, that no excellence in music is to be acquired without
-constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will
-never play really well, unless she practises more; and though Mrs.
-Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told
-her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs.
-Jenkinson’s room. She would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part
-of the house.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt’s ill-breeding, and made
-no answer.</p>
-
-<p>When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having
-promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to the instrument. He
-drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then
-talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter walked away from
-her, and moving with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte,
-stationed himself so<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_218">{218}</a></span> as to command a full view of the fair performer’s
-countenance. Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first
-convenient pause turned to him with an arch smile, and said,—</p>
-
-<p>“You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear
-me. But I will not be alarmed, though your sister <i>does</i> play so well.
-There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at
-the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to
-intimidate me.”</p>
-
-<p>“I shall not say that you are mistaken,” he replied, “because you could
-not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I
-have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know, that you
-find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which, in fact,
-are not your own.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to
-Colonel Fitzwilliam, “Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of
-me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky
-in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a
-part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree
-of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention
-all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire—and, give me
-leave to say, very impolitic too—for it is provoking me to retaliate,
-and such things may come out as will shock your relations to hear.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am not afraid of you,” said he, smilingly.</p>
-
-<p>“Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” cried Colonel
-Fitzwilliam. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”</p>
-
-<p>“You shall hear, then—but prepare for something very<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_219">{219}</a></span> dreadful. The
-first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at
-a ball—and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four
-dances! I am sorry to pain you, but so it was. He danced only four
-dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more
-than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy,
-you cannot deny the fact.”</p>
-
-<p>“I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly
-beyond my own party.”</p>
-
-<p>“True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well, Colonel
-Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.”</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps,” said Darcy, “I should have judged better had I sought an
-introduction, but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.”</p>
-
-<p>“Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” said Elizabeth, still
-addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and
-education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend
-himself to strangers?”</p>
-
-<p>“I can answer your question,” said Fitzwilliam, “without applying to
-him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”</p>
-
-<p>“I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy,
-“of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot
-catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their
-concerns, as I often see done.”</p>
-
-<p>“My fingers,” said Elizabeth, “do not move over this instrument in the
-masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same
-force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I
-have<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_220">{220}</a></span> always supposed it to be my own fault—because I would not take
-the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe <i>my</i> fingers
-as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.”</p>
-
-<p>Darcy smiled and said, “You are perfectly right. You have employed your
-time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you can
-think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers.”</p>
-
-<p>Here they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to know
-what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began playing again.
-Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, said
-to Darcy,—</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practised more, and
-could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion
-of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne’s. Anne would have
-been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth looked at Darcy, to see how cordially he assented to his
-cousin’s praise: but neither at that moment nor at any other could she
-discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss
-De Bourgh she derived this comfort for Miss Bingley, that he might have
-been just as likely to marry <i>her</i>, had she been his relation.</p>
-
-<p>Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth’s performance, mixing
-with them many instructions on execution and taste. Elizabeth received
-them with all the forbearance of civility; and at the request of the
-gentlemen remained at the instrument till her Ladyship’s carriage was
-ready to take them all home.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_221">{221}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a><img src="images/i_250_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXXII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_250_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="E"></span>LIZABETH was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Jane,
-while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village,
-when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a
-visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be
-Lady Catherine; and under that apprehension was putting<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_222">{222}</a></span> away her
-half-finished letter, that she might escape all impertinent questions,
-when the door opened, and to her very great surprise Mr. Darcy, and Mr.
-Darcy only, entered the room.</p>
-
-<p>He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologized for his
-intrusion, by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies to
-be within.</p>
-
-<p>They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings were made,
-seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was absolutely
-necessary, therefore, to think of something; and in this emergency
-recollecting <i>when</i> she had seen him last in Hertfordshire, and feeling
-curious to know what he would say on the subject of their hasty
-departure, she observed,—</p>
-
-<p>“How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy!
-It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you
-all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day
-before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London?”</p>
-
-<p>“Perfectly so, I thank you.”</p>
-
-<p>She found that she was to receive no other answer; and, after a short
-pause, added,—</p>
-
-<p>“I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever
-returning to Netherfield again?”</p>
-
-<p>“I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may spend
-very little of his time there in future. He has many friends, and he is
-at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually
-increasing.”</p>
-
-<p>“If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the
-neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we
-might possibly get a settled family there. But, perhaps, Mr. Bingley did
-not take the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_223">{223}</a></span> house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as
-for his own, and we must expect him to keep or quit it on the same
-principle.”</p>
-
-<p>“I should not be surprised,” said Darcy, “if he were to give it up as
-soon as any eligible purchase offers.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of his
-friend; and, having nothing else to say, was now determined to leave the
-trouble of finding a subject to him.</p>
-
-<p>He took the hint and soon began with, “This seems a very comfortable
-house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr.
-Collins first came to Hunsford.”</p>
-
-<p>“I believe she did—and I am sure she could not have bestowed her
-kindness on a more grateful object.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of
-the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made
-him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding—though
-I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest
-thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however; and, in a
-prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her.”</p>
-
-<p>“It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy a
-distance of her own family and friends.”</p>
-
-<p>“An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles.”</p>
-
-<p>“And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day’s
-journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance.”</p>
-
-<p>“I should never have considered the distance as one of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_224">{224}</a></span> the <i>advantages</i>
-of the match,” cried Elizabeth. “I should never have said Mrs. Collins
-was settled <i>near</i> her family.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Anything beyond
-the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far.”</p>
-
-<p>As he spoke there was a sort of smile, which Elizabeth fancied she
-understood; he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane and
-Netherfield, and she blushed as she answered,—</p>
-
-<p>“I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her
-family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many
-varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expense of
-travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the
-case <i>here</i>. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not
-such a one as will allow of frequent journeys—and I am persuaded my
-friend would not call herself <i>near</i> her family under less than <i>half</i>
-the present distance.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, “<i>You</i> cannot
-have a right to such very strong local attachment. <i>You</i> cannot have
-been always at Longbourn.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth looked surprised. The gentleman experienced some change of
-feeling; he drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and,
-glancing over it, said, in a colder voice,—</p>
-
-<p>“Are you pleased with Kent?”</p>
-
-<p>A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either side
-calm and concise—and soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte
-and her sister, just returned from their walk. The <i>tête-à-tête</i>
-surprised them. Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_225">{225}</a></span> Darcy related the mistake which had occasioned his
-intruding on Miss Bennet, and, after sitting a few minutes longer,
-without saying much to anybody, went away.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 361px;">
-<img src="images/i_254.jpg" width="361" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption"><p>“Accompanied by their aunt”</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_226">{226}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“What can be the meaning of this?” said Charlotte, as soon as he was
-gone. “My dear Eliza, he must be in love with you, or he would never
-have called on us in this familiar way.”</p>
-
-<p>But when Elizabeth told of his silence, it did not seem very likely,
-even to Charlotte’s wishes, to be the case; and, after various
-conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to proceed from
-the difficulty of finding anything to do, which was the more probable
-from the time of year. All field sports were over. Within doors there
-was Lady Catherine, books, and a billiard table, but gentlemen cannot be
-always within doors; and in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the
-pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the
-two cousins found a temptation from this period of walking thither
-almost every day. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes
-separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied by their
-aunt. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he
-had pleasure in their society, a persuasion which of course recommended
-him still more; and Elizabeth was reminded by her own satisfaction in
-being with him, as well as by his evident admiration, of her former
-favourite, George Wickham; and though, in comparing them, she saw there
-was less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners, she
-believed he might have the best informed mind.</p>
-
-<p>But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage it was more difficult
-to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there
-ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it
-seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice—a sacrifice to
-propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_227">{227}</a></span> seldom appeared really
-animated. Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel
-Fitzwilliam’s occasionally laughing at his stupidity proved that he was
-generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told
-her; and as she would have liked to believe this change the effect of
-love, and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she set herself
-seriously to work to find it out: she watched him whenever they were at
-Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success. He
-certainly looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that
-look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often
-doubted whether there were much admiration in it, and sometimes it
-seemed nothing but absence of mind.</p>
-
-<p>She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of his
-being partial to her, but Elizabeth always laughed at the idea; and Mrs.
-Collins did not think it right to press the subject, from the danger of
-raising expectations which might only end in disappointment; for in her
-opinion it admitted not of a doubt, that all her friend’s dislike would
-vanish, if she could suppose him to be in her power.</p>
-
-<p>In her kind schemes for Elizabeth, she sometimes planned her marrying
-Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was, beyond comparison, the pleasantest man: he
-certainly admired her, and his situation in life was most eligible; but,
-to counterbalance these advantages, Mr. Darcy had considerable patronage
-in the church, and his cousin could have none at all.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_228">{228}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a><img src="images/i_257_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“On looking up.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_257_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="M"></span>ORE than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park,
-unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the
-mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought; and, to
-prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him, at first,
-that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time,
-therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even the third. It seemed like
-wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance; for on these occasions it was
-not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away,
-but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He
-never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking
-or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_229">{229}</a></span> third
-encounter that he was asking some odd unconnected questions—about her
-pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her
-opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins’s happiness; and that in speaking of
-Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to
-expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying
-<i>there</i> too. His words seemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel
-Fitzwilliam in his thoughts? She supposed, if he meant anything, he must
-mean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter. It distressed her
-a little, and she was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the
-pales opposite the Parsonage.</p>
-
-<p>She was engaged one day, as she walked, in re-perusing Jane’s last
-letter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane had not
-written in spirits, when, instead of being again surprised by Mr. Darcy,
-she saw, on looking up, that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her.
-Putting away the letter immediately, and forcing a smile, she said,—</p>
-
-<p>“I did not know before that you ever walked this way.”</p>
-
-<p>“I have been making the tour of the park,” he replied, “as I generally
-do every year, and intended to close it with a call at the Parsonage.
-Are you going much farther?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I should have turned in a moment.”</p>
-
-<p>And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonage
-together.</p>
-
-<p>“Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?” said she.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes—if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. He
-arranges the business just as he pleases.”</p>
-
-<p>“And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least
-great pleasure in the power of choice. I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_230">{230}</a></span> do not know anybody who seems
-more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy.”</p>
-
-<p>“He likes to have his own way very well,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam.
-“But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it than
-many others, because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speak
-feelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and
-dependence.”</p>
-
-<p>“In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very little of
-either. Now, seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial and
-dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going
-wherever you chose or procuring anything you had a fancy for?”</p>
-
-<p>“These are home questions—and perhaps I cannot say that I have
-experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greater
-weight, I may suffer from the want of money. Younger sons cannot marry
-where they like.”</p>
-
-<p>“Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very often
-do.”</p>
-
-<p>“Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not many in
-my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to
-money.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is this,” thought Elizabeth, “meant for me?” and she coloured at the
-idea; but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, “And pray, what is
-the usual price of an earl’s younger son? Unless the elder brother is
-very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds.”</p>
-
-<p>He answered her in the same style, and the subject dropped. To interrupt
-a silence which might make him fancy her affected with what had passed,
-she soon afterwards said,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_231">{231}</a></span>—</p>
-
-<p>“I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of
-having somebody at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure a
-lasting convenience of that kind. But, perhaps, his sister does as well
-for the present; and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what he
-likes with her.”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, “that is an advantage which he must
-divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy.”</p>
-
-<p>“Are you, indeed? And pray what sort of a guardian do you make? Does
-your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes
-a little difficult to manage; and if she has the true Darcy spirit, she
-may like to have her own way.”</p>
-
-<p>As she spoke, she observed him looking at her earnestly; and the manner
-in which he immediately asked her why she supposed Miss Darcy likely to
-give them any uneasiness, convinced her that she had somehow or other
-got pretty near the truth. She directly replied,—</p>
-
-<p>“You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and I dare
-say she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. She is a
-very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, Mrs. Hurst and
-Miss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that you know them.”</p>
-
-<p>“I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant, gentlemanlike
-man—he is a great friend of Darcy’s.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh yes,” said Elizabeth drily—“Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr.
-Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Care of him! Yes, I really believe Darcy <i>does</i> take care of him in
-those points where he most wants care.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_232">{232}</a></span> From something that he told me
-in our journey hither, I have reason to think Bingley very much indebted
-to him. But I ought to beg his pardon, for I have no right to suppose
-that Bingley was the person meant. It was all conjecture.”</p>
-
-<p>“What is it you mean?”</p>
-
-<p>“It is a circumstance which Darcy of course could not wish to be
-generally known, because if it were to get round to the lady’s family it
-would be an unpleasant thing.”</p>
-
-<p>“You may depend upon my not mentioning it.”</p>
-
-<p>“And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it to be
-Bingley. What he told me was merely this: that he congratulated himself
-on having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of a most
-imprudent marriage, but without mentioning names or any other
-particulars; and I only suspected it to be Bingley from believing him
-the kind of young man to get into a scrape of that sort, and from
-knowing them to have been together the whole of last summer.”</p>
-
-<p>“Did Mr. Darcy give you his reasons for this interference?”</p>
-
-<p>“I understood that there were some very strong objections against the
-lady.”</p>
-
-<p>“And what arts did he use to separate them?”</p>
-
-<p>“He did not talk to me of his own arts,” said Fitzwilliam, smiling. “He
-only told me what I have now told you.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart swelling with
-indignation. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked her why she
-was so thoughtful.</p>
-
-<p>“I am thinking of what you have been telling me,” said she. “Your
-cousin’s conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the
-judge?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_233">{233}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the propriety of his
-friend’s inclination; or why, upon his own judgment alone, he was to
-determine and direct in what manner that friend was to be happy. But,”
-she continued, recollecting herself, “as we know none of the
-particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed
-that there was much affection in the case.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is not an unnatural surmise,” said Fitzwilliam; “but it is
-lessening the honour of my cousin’s triumph very sadly.”</p>
-
-<p>This was spoken jestingly, but it appeared to her so just a picture of
-Mr. Darcy, that she would not trust herself with an answer; and,
-therefore, abruptly changing the conversation, talked on indifferent
-matters till they reached the Parsonage. There, shut into her own room,
-as soon as their visitor left them, she could think without interruption
-of all that she had heard. It was not to be supposed that any other
-people could be meant than those with whom she was connected. There
-could not exist in the world <i>two</i> men over whom Mr. Darcy could have
-such boundless influence. That he had been concerned in the measures
-taken to separate Mr. Bingley and Jane, she had never doubted; but she
-had always attributed to Miss Bingley the principal design and
-arrangement of them. If his own vanity, however, did not mislead him,
-<i>he</i> was the cause—his pride and caprice were the cause—of all that
-Jane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He had ruined for a
-while every hope of happiness for the most affectionate, generous heart
-in the world; and no one could say how lasting an evil he might have
-inflicted.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_234">{234}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“There were some very strong objections against the lady,” were Colonel
-Fitzwilliam’s words; and these strong objections probably were, her
-having one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who was in
-business in London.</p>
-
-<p>“To Jane herself,” she exclaimed, “there could be no possibility of
-objection,—all loveliness and goodness as she is! Her understanding
-excellent, her mind improved, and her manners captivating. Neither could
-anything be urged against my father, who, though with some
-peculiarities, has abilities which Mr. Darcy himself need not disdain,
-and respectability which he will probably never reach.” When she thought
-of her mother, indeed, her confidence gave way a little; but she would
-not allow that any objections <i>there</i> had material weight with Mr.
-Darcy, whose pride, she was convinced, would receive a deeper wound from
-the want of importance in his friend’s connections than from their want
-of sense; and she was quite decided, at last, that he had been partly
-governed by this worst kind of pride, and partly by the wish of
-retaining Mr. Bingley for his sister.</p>
-
-<p>The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned brought on a
-headache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening that, added to
-her unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy, it determined her not to attend her
-cousins to Rosings, where they were engaged to drink tea. Mrs. Collins,
-seeing that she was really unwell, did not press her to go, and as much
-as possible prevented her husband from pressing her; but Mr. Collins
-could not conceal his apprehension of Lady Catherine’s being rather
-displeased by her staying at home.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_235">{235}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a><img src="images/i_264_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_264_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="W"></span>HEN they were gone, Elizabeth, as if intending to exasperate herself as
-much as possible against Mr. Darcy, chose for her employment the
-examination of all the letters which Jane had written to her since her
-being in Kent. They contained no actual complaint, nor was there any
-revival of past occurrences,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_236">{236}</a></span> or any communication of present suffering.
-But in all, and in almost every line of each, there was a want of that
-cheerfulness which had been used to characterize her style, and which,
-proceeding from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself, and kindly
-disposed towards everyone, had been scarcely ever clouded. Elizabeth
-noticed every sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness, with an
-attention which it had hardly received on the first perusal. Mr. Darcy’s
-shameful boast of what misery he had been able to inflict gave her a
-keener sense of her sister’s sufferings. It was some consolation to
-think that his visit to Rosings was to end on the day after the next,
-and a still greater that in less than a fortnight she should herself be
-with Jane again, and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her
-spirits, by all that affection could do.</p>
-
-<p>She could not think of Darcy’s leaving Kent without remembering that his
-cousin was to go with him; but Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear
-that he had no intentions at all, and, agreeable as he was, she did not
-mean to be unhappy about him.</p>
-
-<p>While settling this point, she was suddenly roused by the sound of the
-door-bell; and her spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of its
-being Colonel Fitzwilliam himself, who had once before called late in
-the evening, and might now come to inquire particularly after her. But
-this idea was soon banished, and her spirits were very differently
-affected, when, to her utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the
-room. In a hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her
-health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better.
-She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and
-then getting up walked<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_237">{237}</a></span> about the room. Elizabeth was surprised, but
-said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her
-in an agitated manner, and thus began:—</p>
-
-<p>“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be
-repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love
-you.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured,
-doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement,
-and the avowal of all that he felt and had long felt for her immediately
-followed. He spoke well; but there were feelings besides those of the
-heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of
-tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority, of its being a
-degradation, of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed
-to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the
-consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his
-suit.</p>
-
-<p>In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she could not be insensible to
-the compliment of such a man’s affection, and though her intentions did
-not vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for the pain he was to
-receive; till roused to resentment by his subsequent language, she lost
-all compassion in anger. She tried, however, to compose herself to
-answer him with patience, when he should have done. He concluded with
-representing to her the strength of that attachment which in spite of
-all his endeavours he had found impossible to conquer; and with
-expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of
-his hand. As he said this she could easily see that he had no doubt of a
-favourable answer. He <i>spoke</i> of apprehension and anxiety, but his
-countenance expressed real security. Such a circumstance<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_238">{238}</a></span> could only
-exasperate farther; and when he ceased the colour rose into her cheeks
-and she said,—</p>
-
-<p>“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to
-express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however
-unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be
-felt, and if I could <i>feel</i> gratitude, I would now thank you. But I
-cannot—I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly
-bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to
-anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be
-of short duration. The feelings which you tell me have long prevented
-the acknowledgment of your regard can have little difficulty in
-overcoming it after this explanation.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantel-piece with his eyes fixed
-on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than
-surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of
-his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the
-appearance of composure, and would not open his lips till he believed
-himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth’s feelings
-dreadful. At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said,—</p>
-
-<p>“And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I
-might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little <i>endeavour</i> at
-civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.”</p>
-
-<p>“I might as well inquire,” replied she, “why, with so evident a design
-of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me
-against your will, against your reason, and even against your character?
-Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I <i>was</i> uncivil? But I have
-other provocations. You know I have.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_239">{239}</a></span> Had not my own feelings decided
-against you, had they been indifferent, or had they even been
-favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept
-the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the
-happiness of a most beloved sister?”</p>
-
-<p>As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy changed colour; but the emotion
-was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she
-continued,—</p>
-
-<p>“I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can
-excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted <i>there</i>. You dare not,
-you cannot deny that you have been the principal, if not the only means
-of dividing them from each other, of exposing one to the censure of the
-world for caprice and instability, the other to its derision for
-disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest
-kind.”</p>
-
-<p>She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was listening
-with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse.
-He even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity.</p>
-
-<p>“Can you deny that you have done it?” she repeated.</p>
-
-<p>With assumed tranquillity he then replied, “I have no wish of denying
-that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your
-sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards <i>him</i> I have been
-kinder than towards myself.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth disdained the appearance of noticing this civil reflection,
-but its meaning did not escape, nor was it likely to conciliate her.</p>
-
-<p>“But it is not merely this affair,” she continued, “on which my dislike
-is founded. Long before it had taken<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_240">{240}</a></span> place, my opinion of you was
-decided. Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received
-many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to
-say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself?
-or under what misrepresentation can you here impose upon others?”</p>
-
-<p>“You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns,” said Darcy,
-in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour.</p>
-
-<p>“Who that knows what his misfortunes have been can help feeling an
-interest in him?”</p>
-
-<p>“His misfortunes!” repeated Darcy, contemptuously,—“yes, his
-misfortunes have been great indeed.”</p>
-
-<p>“And of your infliction,” cried Elizabeth, with energy; “You have
-reduced him to his present state of poverty—comparative poverty. You
-have withheld the advantages which you must know to have been designed
-for him. You have deprived the best years of his life of that
-independence which was no less his due than his desert. You have done
-all this! and yet you can treat the mention of his misfortunes with
-contempt and ridicule.”</p>
-
-<p>“And this,” cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across the room,
-“is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I
-thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this
-calculation, are heavy indeed! But, perhaps,” added he, stopping in his
-walk, and turning towards her, “these offences might have been
-overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the
-scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These
-bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater
-policy, concealed my struggles, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_241">{241}</a></span> flattered you into the belief of my
-being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination; by reason, by
-reflection, by everything. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence.
-Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just.
-Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your
-connections?—to congratulate myself on the hope of relations whose
-condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry every moment; yet she tried to
-the utmost to speak with composure when she said,—</p>
-
-<p>“You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your
-declaration affected me in any other way than as it spared me the
-concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a
-more gentlemanlike manner.”</p>
-
-<p>She saw him start at this; but he said nothing, and she continued,—</p>
-
-<p>“You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way
-that would have tempted me to accept it.”</p>
-
-<p>Again his astonishment was obvious; and he looked at her with an
-expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. She went on,—</p>
-
-<p>“From the very beginning, from the first moment, I may almost say, of my
-acquaintance with you, your manners impressing me with the fullest
-belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the
-feelings of others, were such as to form that groundwork of
-disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immovable a
-dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the
-last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_242">{242}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your
-feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been.
-Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best
-wishes for your health and happiness.”</p>
-
-<p>And with these words he hastily left the room, and Elizabeth heard him
-the next moment open the front door and quit the house. The tumult of
-her mind was now painfully great. She knew not how to support herself,
-and, from actual weakness, sat down and cried for half an hour. Her
-astonishment, as she reflected on what had passed, was increased by
-every review of it. That she should receive an offer of marriage from
-Mr. Darcy! that he should have been in love with her for so many months!
-so much in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections
-which had made him prevent his friend’s marrying her sister, and which
-must appear at least with equal force in his own case, was almost
-incredible! it was gratifying to have inspired unconsciously so strong
-an affection. But his pride, his abominable pride, his shameless avowal
-of what he had done with respect to Jane, his unpardonable assurance in
-acknowledging, though he could not justify it, and the unfeeling manner
-which he had mentioned Mr. Wickham, his cruelty towards whom he had not
-attempted to deny, soon overcame the pity which the consideration of his
-attachment had for a moment excited.</p>
-
-<p>She continued in very agitating reflections till the sound of Lady
-Catherine’s carriage made her feel how unequal she was to encounter
-Charlotte’s observation, and hurried her away to her room.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_243">{243}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a><img src="images/i_272_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“Hearing herself called.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXXV.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_272_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="E"></span>LIZABETH awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations
-which had at length closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from the
-surprise of what had happened: it was impossible to think of anything
-else; and, totally indisposed for employment, she resolved soon after
-breakfast to indulge herself in air and exercise. She was proceeding
-directly to her favourite walk, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy’s
-sometimes coming there stopped her, and instead of entering the park,
-she turned up the lane which led her farther from the turnpike road. The
-park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she soon passed one
-of the gates into the ground.</p>
-
-<p>After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, she was
-tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at the gates and
-look into the park. The five weeks which she had now passed in Kent had
-made a great difference in the country, and every day was adding to the
-verdure of the early trees. She was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_244">{244}</a></span> on the point of continuing her
-walk, when she caught a glimpse of a gentleman within the sort of grove
-which edged the park: he was moving that way; and fearful of its being
-Mr. Darcy, she was directly retreating. But the person who advanced was
-now near enough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness,
-pronounced her name. She had turned away; but on hearing herself called,
-though in a voice which proved it to be Mr. Darcy, she moved again
-towards the gate. He had by that time reached it also; and, holding out
-a letter, which she instinctively took, said, with a look of haughty
-composure, “I have been walking in the grove some time, in the hope of
-meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?” and
-then, with a slight bow, turned again into the plantation, and was soon
-out of sight.</p>
-
-<p>With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity,
-Elizabeth opened the letter, and to her still increasing wonder,
-perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter paper, written
-quite through, in a very close hand. The envelope itself was likewise
-full. Pursuing her way along the lane, she then began it. It was dated
-from Rosings, at eight o’clock in the morning, and was as follows:—</p>
-
-<p>“Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of
-its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those
-offers, which were last night so disgusting to you. I write without any
-intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes,
-which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten; and the
-effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion,
-should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_245">{245}</a></span>
-and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand
-your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I
-demand it of your justice.</p>
-
-<p>“Two offences of a very different nature, and by no means of equal
-magnitude, you last night laid to my charge. The first mentioned was,
-that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had detached Mr. Bingley
-from your sister,—and the other, that I had, in defiance of various
-claims, in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the immediate
-prosperity and blasted the prospects of Mr. Wickham. Wilfully and
-wantonly to have thrown off the companion of my youth, the acknowledged
-favourite of my father, a young man who had scarcely any other
-dependence than on our patronage, and who had been brought up to expect
-its exertion, would be a depravity, to which the separation of two young
-persons whose affection could be the growth of only a few weeks, could
-bear no comparison. But from the severity of that blame which was last
-night so liberally bestowed, respecting each circumstance, I shall hope
-to be in future secured, when the following account of my actions and
-their motives has been read. If, in the explanation of them which is due
-to myself, I am under the necessity of relating feelings which may be
-offensive to yours, I can only say that I am sorry. The necessity must
-be obeyed, and further apology would be absurd. I had not been long in
-Hertfordshire before I saw, in common with others, that Bingley
-preferred your elder sister to any other young woman in the country. But
-it was not till the evening of the dance at Netherfield that I had any
-apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment. I had often seen him
-in love before. At that ball, while I had<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_246">{246}</a></span> the honour of dancing with
-you, I was first made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas’s accidental
-information, that Bingley’s attentions to your sister had given rise to
-a general expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it as a certain
-event, of which the time alone could be undecided. From that moment I
-observed my friend’s behaviour attentively; and I could then perceive
-that his partiality for Miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed
-in him. Your sister I also watched. Her look and manners were open,
-cheerful, and engaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar
-regard; and I remained convinced, from the evening’s scrutiny, that
-though she received his attentions with pleasure, she did not invite
-them by any participation of sentiment. If <i>you</i> have not been mistaken
-here, <i>I</i> must have been in an error. Your superior knowledge of your
-sister must make the latter probable. If it be so, if I have been misled
-by such error to inflict pain on her, your resentment has not been
-unreasonable. But I shall not scruple to assert, that the serenity of
-your sister’s countenance and air was such as might have given the most
-acute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart
-was not likely to be easily touched. That I was desirous of believing
-her indifferent is certain; but I will venture to say that my
-investigations and decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or
-fears. I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; I
-believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason.
-My objections to the marriage were not merely those which I last night
-acknowledged to have required the utmost force of passion to put aside
-in my own case; the want of connection could not be so great an evil to
-my friend as to me. But there were<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_247">{247}</a></span> other causes of repugnance; causes
-which, though still existing, and existing to an equal degree in both
-instances, I had myself endeavoured to forget, because they were not
-immediately before me. These causes must be stated, though briefly. The
-situation of your mother’s family, though objectionable, was nothing in
-comparison of that total want of propriety so frequently, so almost
-uniformly betrayed by herself, by your three younger sisters, and
-occasionally even by your father:—pardon me,—it pains me to offend
-you. But amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations,
-and your displeasure at this representation of them, let it give you
-consolation to consider that to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid
-any share of the like censure is praise no less generally bestowed on
-you and your eldest sister than it is honourable to the sense and
-disposition of both. I will only say, farther, that from what passed
-that evening my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every
-inducement heightened, which could have led me before to preserve my
-friend from what I esteemed a most unhappy connection. He left
-Netherfield for London on the day following, as you, I am certain,
-remember, with the design of soon returning. The part which I acted is
-now to be explained. His sisters’ uneasiness had been equally excited
-with my own: our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered; and, alike
-sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we
-shortly resolved on joining him directly in London. We accordingly
-went—and there I readily engaged in the office of pointing out to my
-friend the certain evils of such a choice. I described and enforced them
-earnestly. But however this remonstrance might have staggered or delayed
-his determination, I do not<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_248">{248}</a></span> suppose that it would ultimately have
-prevented the marriage, had it not been seconded by the assurance, which
-I hesitated not in giving, of your sister’s indifference. He had before
-believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal,
-regard. But Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger
-dependence on my judgment than on his own. To convince him, therefore,
-that he had deceived himself was no very difficult point. To persuade
-him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been
-given, was scarcely the work of a moment. I cannot blame myself for
-having done thus much. There is but one part of my conduct, in the whole
-affair, on which I do not reflect with satisfaction; it is that I
-condescended to adopt the measures of art so far as to conceal from him
-your sister’s being in town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss
-Bingley; but her brother is even yet ignorant of it. That they might
-have met without ill consequence is, perhaps, probable; but his regard
-did not appear to me enough extinguished for him to see her without some
-danger. Perhaps this concealment, this disguise, was beneath me. It is
-done, however, and it was done for the best. On this subject I have
-nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I have wounded your
-sister’s feelings, it was unknowingly done; and though the motives which
-governed me may to you very naturally appear insufficient, I have not
-yet learnt to condemn them.—With respect to that other, more weighty
-accusation, of having injured Mr. Wickham, I can only refute it by
-laying before you the whole of his connection with my family. Of what he
-has <i>particularly</i> accused me I am ignorant; but of the truth of what I
-shall relate I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_249">{249}</a></span>
-Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years
-the management of all the Pemberley estates, and whose good conduct in
-the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service
-to him; and on George Wickham, who was his godson, his kindness was
-therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and
-afterwards at Cambridge; most important assistance, as his own father,
-always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to
-give him a gentleman’s education. My father was not only fond of this
-young man’s society, whose manners were always engaging, he had also the
-highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession,
-intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years
-since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The
-vicious propensities, the want of principle, which he was careful to
-guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the
-observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who
-had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy
-could not have. Here again I shall give you pain—to what degree you
-only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has
-created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding
-his real character. It adds even another motive. My excellent father
-died about five years ago; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the
-last so steady, that in his will he particularly recommended it to me to
-promote his advancement in the best manner that his profession might
-allow, and if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living
-might be his as soon as it became vacant. There was also a legacy of
-one<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_250">{250}</a></span> thousand pounds. His own father did not long survive mine; and
-within half a year from these events Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me
-that, having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should
-not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate
-pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment, by which he could not be
-benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying the law, and I
-must be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds would be a very
-insufficient support therein. I rather wished than believed him to be
-sincere; but, at any rate, was perfectly ready to accede to his
-proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman. The
-business was therefore soon settled. He resigned all claim to assistance
-in the church, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to
-receive it, and accepted in return three thousand pounds. All connection
-between us seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him to invite him
-to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town, I believe, he
-chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a mere pretence; and being
-now free from all restraint, his life was a life of idleness and
-dissipation. For about three years I heard little of him; but on the
-decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him,
-he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. His
-circumstances, he assured me, and I had no difficulty in believing it,
-were exceedingly bad. He had found the law a most unprofitable study,
-and was now absolutely resolved on being ordained, if I would present
-him to the living in question—of which he trusted there could be little
-doubt, as he was well assured that I had no other person to provide for,
-and I could not have forgotten my revered father’s intentions. You will
-hardly blame me<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_251">{251}</a></span> for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or for
-resisting every repetition of it. His resentment was in proportion to
-the distress of his circumstances—and he was doubtless as violent in
-his abuse of me to others as in his reproaches to myself. After this
-period, every appearance of acquaintance was dropped. How he lived, I
-know not. But last summer he was again most painfully obtruded on my
-notice. I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget
-myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me
-to unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of
-your secrecy. My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left
-to the guardianship of my mother’s nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and
-myself. About a year ago, she was taken from school, and an
-establishment formed for her in London; and last summer she went with
-the lady who presided over it to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr.
-Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior
-acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were
-most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and aid he so far
-recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a
-strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was
-persuaded to believe herself in love and to consent to an elopement. She
-was then but fifteen, which must be her excuse; and after stating her
-imprudence, I am happy to add, that I owed the knowledge of it to
-herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended
-elopement; and then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving
-and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father,
-acknowledged the whole to me. You may imagine what<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_252">{252}</a></span> I felt and how I
-acted. Regard for my sister’s credit and feelings prevented any public
-exposure; but I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately,
-and Mrs. Younge was of course removed from her charge. Mr. Wickham’s
-chief object was unquestionably my sister’s fortune, which is thirty
-thousand pounds; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging
-himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been
-complete indeed. This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in
-which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely
-reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty
-towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of
-falsehood, he has imposed on you; but his success is not perhaps to be
-wondered at, ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning
-either. Detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly
-not in your inclination. You may possibly wonder why all this was not
-told you last night. But I was not then master enough of myself to know
-what could or ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything here
-related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel
-Fitzwilliam, who, from our near relationship and constant intimacy, and
-still more as one of the executors of my father’s will, has been
-unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. If
-your abhorrence of <i>me</i> should make <i>my</i> assertions valueless, you
-cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and
-that there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavour
-to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the
-course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you.</p>
-
-<p class="rt">
-“<span class="smcap">Fitzwilliam Darcy.</span>”<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_253">{253}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a><img src="images/i_282_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind">
-<span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_282_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt=""></span>ELIZABETH, when Mr. Darcy gave her the letter, did not expect it to
-contain a renewal of his offers, she had formed no expectation at all of
-its contents. But such as they were, it may be well supposed how eagerly
-she went through them, and what a contrariety of emotion they excited.
-Her feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined. With amazement did
-she first understand that he believed any apology to be in his power;
-and steadfastly was she persuaded, that he could have no explanation to
-give, which a just sense of shame would not conceal. With a strong
-prejudice<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_254">{254}</a></span> against everything he might say, she began his account of
-what had happened at Netherfield. She read with an eagerness which
-hardly left her power of comprehension; and from impatience of knowing
-what the next sentence might bring, was incapable of attending to the
-sense of the one before her eyes. His belief of her sister’s
-insensibility she instantly resolved to be false; and his account of the
-real, the worst objections to the match, made her too angry to have any
-wish of doing him justice. He expressed no regret for what he had done
-which satisfied her; his style was not penitent, but haughty. It was all
-pride and insolence.</p>
-
-<p>But when this subject was succeeded by his account of Mr. Wickham—when
-she read, with somewhat clearer attention, a relation of events which,
-if true, must overthrow every cherished opinion of his worth, and which
-bore so alarming an affinity to his own history of himself—her feelings
-were yet more acutely painful and more difficult of definition.
-Astonishment, apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished
-to discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, “This must be false!
-This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!”—and when she had
-gone through the whole letter, though scarcely knowing anything of the
-last page or two, put it hastily away, protesting that she would not
-regard it, that she would never look in it again.</p>
-
-<p>In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest on
-nothing, she walked on; but it would not do: in half a minute the letter
-was unfolded again; and collecting herself as well as she could, she
-again began the mortifying perusal of all that related to Wickham, and
-commanded herself so far as to examine the meaning of every sentence.
-The account of his connection with<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_255">{255}</a></span> the Pemberley family was exactly
-what he had related himself; and the kindness of the late Mr. Darcy,
-though she had not before known its extent, agreed equally well with his
-own words. So far each recital confirmed the other; but when she came to
-the will, the difference was great. What Wickham had said of the living
-was fresh in her memory; and as she recalled his very words, it was
-impossible not to feel that there was gross duplicity on one side or the
-other, and, for a few moments, she flattered herself that her wishes did
-not err. But when she read and re-read, with the closest attention, the
-particulars immediately following of Wickham’s resigning all pretensions
-to the living, of his receiving in lieu so considerable a sum as three
-thousand pounds, again was she forced to hesitate. She put down the
-letter, weighed every circumstance with what she meant to be
-impartiality—deliberated on the probability of each statement—but with
-little success. On both sides it was only assertion. Again she read on.
-But every line proved more clearly that the affair, which she had
-believed it impossible that any contrivance could so represent as to
-render Mr. Darcy’s conduct in it less than infamous, was capable of a
-turn which must make him entirely blameless throughout the whole.</p>
-
-<p>The extravagance and general profligacy which he scrupled not to lay to
-Mr. Wickham’s charge exceedingly shocked her; the more so, as she could
-bring no proof of its injustice. She had never heard of him before his
-entrance into the ——shire militia, in which he had engaged at the
-persuasion of the young man, who, on meeting him accidentally in town,
-had there renewed a slight acquaintance. Of his former way of life,
-nothing had been known in Hertfordshire but what he told<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_256">{256}</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
-<img src="images/i_285.jpg" width="550" height="459" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p>“Meeting accidentally in Town”</p></div>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="nind">himself. As to his real character, had information been in her power,
-she had never felt a wish of inquiring. His countenance, voice, and
-manner, had established him at once in the possession of every virtue.
-She tried to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished
-trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the
-attacks of Mr. Darcy; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone
-for those casual errors, under which she would endeavour to class what
-Mr. Darcy had described as the idleness and vice of many years’
-continuance. But no such recollection befriended her. She could see him
-instantly before her, in every charm of air and address, but she could
-remember no more substantial good than the general approbation of the
-neighbourhood, and the regard which his social powers had<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_257">{257}</a></span> gained him in
-the mess. After pausing on this point a considerable while, she once
-more continued to read. But, alas! the story which followed, of his
-designs on Miss Darcy, received some confirmation from what had passed
-between Colonel Fitzwilliam and herself only the morning before; and at
-last she was referred for the truth of every particular to Colonel
-Fitzwilliam himself—from whom she had previously received the
-information of his near concern in all his cousin’s affairs and whose
-character she had no reason to question. At one time she had almost
-resolved on applying to him, but the idea was checked by the awkwardness
-of the application, and at length wholly banished by the conviction that
-Mr. Darcy would never have hazarded such a proposal, if he had not been
-well assured of his cousin’s corroboration.</p>
-
-<p>She perfectly remembered everything that had passed in conversation
-between Wickham and herself in their first evening at Mr. Philips’s.
-Many of his expressions were still fresh in her memory. She was <i>now</i>
-struck with the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, and
-wondered it had escaped her before. She saw the indelicacy of putting
-himself forward as he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions
-with his conduct. She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear
-of seeing Mr. Darcy—that Mr. Darcy might leave the country, but that
-<i>he</i> should stand his ground; yet he had avoided the Netherfield ball
-the very next week. She remembered, also, that till the Netherfield
-family had quitted the country, he had told his story to no one but
-herself; but that after their removal, it had been everywhere discussed;
-that he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinking Mr. Darc<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_258">{258}</a></span>y’s
-character, though he had assured her that respect for the father would
-always prevent his exposing the son.</p>
-
-<p>How differently did everything now appear in which he was concerned! His
-attentions to Miss King were now the consequence of views solely and
-hatefully mercenary; and the mediocrity of her fortune proved no longer
-the moderation of his wishes, but his eagerness to grasp at anything.
-His behaviour to herself could now have had no tolerable motive: he had
-either been deceived with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying
-his vanity by encouraging the preference which she believed she had most
-incautiously shown. Every lingering struggle in his favour grew fainter
-and fainter; and in further justification of Mr. Darcy, she could not
-but allow that Mr. Bingley, when questioned by Jane, had long ago
-asserted his blamelessness in the affair;—that, proud and repulsive as
-were his manners, she had never, in the whole course of their
-acquaintance—an acquaintance which had latterly brought them much
-together, and given her a sort of intimacy with his ways—seen anything
-that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust—anything that spoke him
-of irreligious or immoral habits;—that among his own connections he was
-esteemed and valued;—that even Wickham had allowed him merit as a
-brother, and that she had often heard him speak so affectionately of his
-sister as to prove him capable of some amiable feeling;—that had his
-actions been what Wickham represented them, so gross a violation of
-everything right could hardly have been concealed from the world; and
-that friendship between a person capable of it and such an amiable man
-as Mr. Bingley was incomprehensible.</p>
-
-<p>She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_259">{259}</a></span> Darcy nor Wickham
-could she think, without feeling that she had been blind, partial,
-prejudiced, absurd.</p>
-
-<p>“How despicably have I acted!” she cried. “I, who have prided myself on
-my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! who have
-often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my
-vanity in useless or blameless distrust. How humiliating is this
-discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I could not
-have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my
-folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect
-of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted
-prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away where either were
-concerned. Till this moment, I never knew myself.”</p>
-
-<p>From herself to Jane, from Jane to Bingley, her thoughts were in a line
-which soon brought to her recollection that Mr. Darcy’s explanation
-<i>there</i> had appeared very insufficient; and she read it again. Widely
-different was the effect of a second perusal. How could she deny that
-credit to his assertions, in one instance, which she had been obliged to
-give in the other? He declared himself to have been totally unsuspicious
-of her sister’s attachment; and she could not help remembering what
-Charlotte’s opinion had always been. Neither could she deny the justice
-of his description of Jane. She felt that Jane’s feelings, though
-fervent, were little displayed, and that there was a constant
-complacency in her air and manner, not often united with great
-sensibility.</p>
-
-<p>When she came to that part of the letter in which her family were
-mentioned, in tones of such mortifying, yet merited, reproach, her sense
-of shame was severe. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_260">{260}</a></span> justice of the charge struck her too forcibly
-for denial; and the circumstances to which he particularly alluded, as
-having passed at the Netherfield ball, and as confirming all his first
-disapprobation, could not have made a stronger impression on his mind
-than on hers.</p>
-
-<p>The compliment to herself and her sister was not unfelt. It soothed, but
-it could not console her for the contempt which had been thus
-self-attracted by the rest of her family; and as she considered that
-Jane’s disappointment had, in fact, been the work of her nearest
-relations, and reflected how materially the credit of both must be hurt
-by such impropriety of conduct, she felt depressed beyond anything she
-had ever known before.</p>
-
-<p>After wandering along the lane for two hours, giving way to every
-variety of thought, reconsidering events, determining probabilities, and
-reconciling herself, as well as she could, to a change so sudden and so
-important, fatigue, and a recollection of her long absence, made her at
-length return home; and she entered the house with the wish of appearing
-cheerful as usual, and the resolution of repressing such reflections as
-must make her unfit for conversation.</p>
-
-<p>She was immediately told, that the two gentlemen from Rosings had each
-called during her absence; Mr. Darcy, only for a few minutes, to take
-leave, but that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been sitting with them at least
-an hour, hoping for her return, and almost resolving to walk after her
-till she could be found. Elizabeth could but just <i>affect</i> concern in
-missing him; she really rejoiced at it. Colonel Fitzwilliam was no
-longer an object. She could think only of her letter.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_261">{261}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a><img src="images/i_290_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt=""><br>
-<span class="caption">
-“His parting obeisance.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_290_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="T"></span>HE two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning; and Mr. Collins having
-been in waiting near the lodges, to make them his parting obeisance, was
-able to bring home the pleasing intelligence of their appearing in very
-good health, and in as tolerable spirits as could be expected, after the
-melancholy scene so lately gone through at Rosings. To Rosings he then
-hastened to console Lady Catherine and her daughter; and on his return
-brought back, with great satisfaction, a message from her Ladyship,
-importing that she felt herself so dull as to make her very desirous of
-having them all to dine with her.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_262">{262}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth could not see Lady Catherine without recollecting that, had
-she chosen it, she might by this time have been presented to her as her
-future niece; nor could she think, without a smile, of what her
-Ladyship’s indignation would have been. “What would she have said? how
-would she have behaved?” were the questions with which she amused
-herself.</p>
-
-<p>Their first subject was the diminution of the Rosings’ party. “I assure
-you, I feel it exceedingly,” said Lady Catherine; “I believe nobody
-feels the loss of friends so much as I do. But I am particularly
-attached to these young men; and know them to be so much attached to me!
-They were excessively sorry to go! But so they always are. The dear
-Colonel rallied his spirits tolerably till just at last; but Darcy
-seemed to feel it most acutely—more, I think, than last year. His
-attachment to Rosings certainly increases.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Collins had a compliment and an allusion to throw in here, which
-were kindly smiled on by the mother and daughter.</p>
-
-<p>Lady Catherine observed, after dinner, that Miss Bennet seemed out of
-spirits; and immediately accounting for it herself, by supposing that
-she did not like to go home again so soon, she added,—</p>
-
-<p>“But if that is the case, you must write to your mother to beg that you
-may stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad of your
-company, I am sure.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am much obliged to your Ladyship for your kind invitation,” replied
-Elizabeth; “but it is not in my power to accept it. I must be in town
-next Saturday.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six weeks. I expected
-you to stay two months. I told Mrs. Collins so before you came. There
-can be no occasion for<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_263">{263}</a></span> your going so soon. Mrs. Bennet could certainly
-spare you for another fortnight.”</p>
-
-<p>“But my father cannot. He wrote last week to hurry my return.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 395px;">
-<img src="images/i_292.jpg" width="395" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>
-“Dawson”<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Oh, your father, of course, may spare you, if your mother can.
-Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father. And if you will
-stay another <i>month</i> complete, it will be in my power to take one of you
-as far as London, for I am going there early in June,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_264">{264}</a></span> for a week; and
-as Dawson does not object to the barouche-box, there will be very good
-room for one of you—and, indeed, if the weather should happen to be
-cool, I should not object to taking you both, as you are neither of you
-large.”</p>
-
-<p>“You are all kindness, madam; but I believe we must abide by our
-original plan.”</p>
-
-<p>Lady Catherine seemed resigned. “Mrs. Collins, you must send a servant
-with them. You know I always speak my mind, and I cannot bear the idea
-of two young women travelling post by themselves. It is highly improper.
-You must contrive to send somebody. I have the greatest dislike in the
-world to that sort of thing. Young women should always be properly
-guarded and attended, according to their situation in life. When my
-niece Georgiana went to Ramsgate last summer, I made a point of her
-having two men-servants go with her. Miss Darcy, the daughter of Mr.
-Darcy of Pemberley, and Lady Anne, could not have appeared with
-propriety in a different manner. I am excessively attentive to all those
-things. You must send John with the young ladies, Mrs. Collins. I am
-glad it occurred to me to mention it; for it would really be
-discreditable to <i>you</i> to let them go alone.”</p>
-
-<p>“My uncle is to send a servant for us.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh! Your uncle! He keeps a man-servant, does he? I am very glad you
-have somebody who thinks of those things. Where shall you change horses?
-Oh, Bromley, of course. If you mention my name at the Bell, you will be
-attended to.”</p>
-
-<p>Lady Catherine had many other questions to ask respecting their journey;
-and as she did not answer them all herself attention was
-necessary—which Elizabeth<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_265">{265}</a></span> believed to be lucky for her; or, with a
-mind so occupied, she might have forgotten where she was. Reflection
-must be reserved for solitary hours: whenever she was alone, she gave
-way to it as the greatest relief; and not a day went by without a
-solitary walk, in which she might indulge in all the delight of
-unpleasant recollections.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Darcy’s letter she was in a fair way of soon knowing by heart. She
-studied every sentence; and her feelings towards its writer were at
-times widely different. When she remembered the style of his address,
-she was still full of indignation: but when she considered how unjustly
-she had condemned and upbraided him, her anger was turned against
-herself; and his disappointed feelings became the object of compassion.
-His attachment excited gratitude, his general character respect: but she
-could not approve him; nor could she for a moment repent her refusal, or
-feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again. In her own past
-behaviour, there was a constant source of vexation and regret: and in
-the unhappy defects of her family, a subject of yet heavier chagrin.
-They were hopeless of remedy. Her father, contented with laughing at
-them, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his
-youngest daughters; and her mother, with manners so far from right
-herself, was entirely insensible of the evil. Elizabeth had frequently
-united with Jane in an endeavour to check the imprudence of Catherine
-and Lydia; but while they were supported by their mother’s indulgence,
-what chance could there be of improvement? Catherine, weak-spirited,
-irritable, and completely under Lydia’s guidance, had been always
-affronted by their advice; and Lydia, self-willed and careless, would
-scarcely give them a hearing. They were ignorant, idle, and vain.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_266">{266}</a></span> While
-there was an officer in Meryton, they would flirt with him; and while
-Meryton was within a walk of Longbourn, they would be going there for
-ever.</p>
-
-<p>Anxiety on Jane’s behalf was another prevailing concern; and Mr. Darcy’s
-explanation, by restoring Bingley to all her former good opinion,
-heightened the sense of what Jane had lost. His affection was proved to
-have been sincere, and his conduct cleared of all blame, unless any
-could attach to the implicitness of his confidence in his friend. How
-grievous then was the thought that, of a situation so desirable in every
-respect, so replete with advantage, so promising for happiness, Jane had
-been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family!</p>
-
-<p>When to these recollections was added the development of Wickham’s
-character, it may be easily believed that the happy spirits which had
-seldom been depressed before were now so much affected as to make it
-almost impossible for her to appear tolerably cheerful.</p>
-
-<p>Their engagements at Rosings were as frequent during the last week of
-her stay as they had been at first. The very last evening was spent
-there; and her Ladyship again inquired minutely into the particulars of
-their journey, gave them directions as to the best method of packing,
-and was so urgent on the necessity of placing gowns in the only right
-way, that Maria thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all the
-work of the morning, and pack her trunk afresh.</p>
-
-<p>When they parted, Lady Catherine, with great condescension, wished them
-a good journey, and invited them to come to Hunsford again next year;
-and Miss de Bourgh exerted herself so far as to courtesy and hold out
-her hand to both.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_267">{267}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a><img src="images/i_296_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“The elevation of his feelings.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_296_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="O"></span>N Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins met for breakfast a few
-minutes before the others appeared; and he took the opportunity of
-paying the parting civilities which he deemed indispensably necessary.</p>
-
-<p>“I know not, Miss Elizabeth,” said he, “whether Mrs. Collins has yet
-expressed her sense of your kindness in coming to us; but I am very
-certain you will not leave the house without receiving her thanks for
-it. The favour of your company has been much felt, I assure you. We know
-how little there is to tempt anyone to our humble abode. Our plain
-manner of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_268">{268}</a></span> living, our small rooms, and few domestics, and the little we
-see of the world, must make Hunsford extremely dull to a young lady like
-yourself; but I hope you will believe us grateful for the condescension,
-and that we have done everything in our power to prevent you spending
-your time unpleasantly.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assurances of happiness. She had
-spent six weeks with great enjoyment; and the pleasure of being with
-Charlotte, and the kind attention she had received, must make <i>her</i> feel
-the obliged. Mr. Collins was gratified; and with a more smiling
-solemnity replied,—</p>
-
-<p>“It gives me the greatest pleasure to hear that you have passed your
-time not disagreeably. We have certainly done our best; and most
-fortunately having it in our power to introduce you to very superior
-society, and from our connection with Rosings, the frequent means of
-varying the humble home scene, I think we may flatter ourselves that
-your Hunsford visit cannot have been entirely irksome. Our situation
-with regard to Lady Catherine’s family is, indeed, the sort of
-extraordinary advantage and blessing which few can boast. You see on
-what a footing we are. You see how continually we are engaged there. In
-truth, I must acknowledge, that, with all the disadvantages of this
-humble parsonage, I should not think anyone abiding in it an object of
-compassion, while they are sharers of our intimacy at Rosings.”</p>
-
-<p>Words were insufficient for the elevation of his feelings; and he was
-obliged to walk about the room, while Elizabeth tried to unite civility
-and truth in a few short sentences.</p>
-
-<p>“You may, in fact, carry a very favourable report of us<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_269">{269}</a></span> into
-Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself, at least, that you will
-be able to do so. Lady Catherine’s great attentions to Mrs. Collins you
-have been a daily witness of; and altogether I trust it does not appear
-that your friend has drawn an unfortunate—but on this point it will be
-as well to be silent. Only let me assure you, my dear Miss Elizabeth,
-that I can from my heart most cordially wish you equal felicity in
-marriage. My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of
-thinking. There is in everything a most remarkable resemblance of
-character and ideas between us. We seem to have been designed for each
-other.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth could safely say that it was a great happiness where that was
-the case, and with equal sincerity could add, that she firmly believed
-and rejoiced in his domestic comforts. She was not sorry, however, to
-have the recital of them interrupted by the entrance of the lady from
-whom they sprang. Poor Charlotte! it was melancholy to leave her to such
-society! But she had chosen it with her eyes open; and though evidently
-regretting that her visitors were to go, she did not seem to ask for
-compassion. Her home and her housekeeping, her parish and her poultry,
-and all their dependent concerns, had not yet lost their charms.</p>
-
-<p>At length the chaise arrived, the trunks were fastened on, the parcels
-placed within, and it was pronounced to be ready. After an affectionate
-parting between the friends, Elizabeth was attended to the carriage by
-Mr. Collins; and as they walked down the garden, he was commissioning
-her with his best respects to all her family, not forgetting his thanks
-for the kindness he had received at Longbourn in the winter, and his
-compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though unknown. He then handed<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_270">{270}</a></span>
-her in, Maria followed, and the door was on the point of being closed,
-when he suddenly reminded them, with some consternation, that they had
-hitherto forgotten to leave any message for the ladies of Rosings.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
-<img src="images/i_299.jpg" width="450" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>
-“They had forgotten to leave any message”<br>
-</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“But,” he added, “you will of course wish to have your humble respects
-delivered to them, with your grateful thanks for their kindness to you
-while you have been here.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth made no objection: the door was then allowed to be shut, and
-the carriage drove off.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_271">{271}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Good gracious!” cried Maria, after a few minutes’ silence, “it seems
-but a day or two since we first came! and yet how many things have
-happened!”</p>
-
-<p>“A great many indeed,” said her companion, with a sigh.</p>
-
-<p>“We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there twice!
-How much I shall have to tell!”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth privately added, “And how much I shall have to conceal!”</p>
-
-<p>Their journey was performed without much conversation, or any alarm; and
-within four hours of their leaving Hunsford they reached Mr. Gardiner’s
-house, where they were to remain a few days.</p>
-
-<p>Jane looked well, and Elizabeth had little opportunity of studying her
-spirits, amidst the various engagements which the kindness of her aunt
-had reserved for them. But Jane was to go home with her, and at
-Longbourn there would be leisure enough for observation.</p>
-
-<p>It was not without an effort, meanwhile, that she could wait even for
-Longbourn, before she told her sister of Mr. Darcy’s proposals. To know
-that she had the power of revealing what would so exceedingly astonish
-Jane, and must, at the same time, so highly gratify whatever of her own
-vanity she had not yet been able to reason away, was such a temptation
-to openness as nothing could have conquered, but the state of indecision
-in which she remained as to the extent of what she should communicate,
-and her fear, if she once entered on the subject, of being hurried into
-repeating something of Bingley, which might only grieve her sister
-further.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_272">{272}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a><img src="images/i_301_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“How nicely we are crammed in.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_301_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="I"></span>T was the second week in May, in which the three young ladies set out
-together from Gracechurch Street for the town of ——, in Hertfordshire;
-and, as they drew near the appointed inn where Mr. Bennet’s carriage was
-to meet them, they quickly perceived, in token of the coachman’s
-punctuality, both Kitty and Lydia looking out of a dining-room upstairs.
-These two girls had been above an hour in the place, happily employed
-in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_273">{273}</a></span> visiting an opposite milliner, watching the sentinel on guard, and
-dressing a salad and cucumber.</p>
-
-<p>After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed a table set
-out with such cold meat as an inn larder usually affords, exclaiming,
-“Is not this nice? is not this an agreeable surprise?”</p>
-
-<p>“And we mean to treat you all,” added Lydia; “but you must lend us the
-money, for we have just spent ours at the shop out there.” Then showing
-her purchases,—“Look here, I have bought this bonnet. I do not think it
-is very pretty; but I thought I might as well buy it as not. I shall
-pull it to pieces as soon as I get home, and see if I can make it up any
-better.”</p>
-
-<p>And when her sisters abused it as ugly, she added, with perfect
-unconcern, “Oh, but there were two or three much uglier in the shop; and
-when I have bought some prettier-coloured satin to trim it with fresh, I
-think it will be very tolerable. Besides, it will not much signify what
-one wears this summer, after the ——shire have left Meryton, and they
-are going in a fortnight.”</p>
-
-<p>“Are they, indeed?” cried Elizabeth, with the greatest satisfaction.</p>
-
-<p>“They are going to be encamped near Brighton; and I do so want papa to
-take us all there for the summer! It would be such a delicious scheme,
-and I dare say would hardly cost anything at all. Mamma would like to
-go, too, of all things! Only think what a miserable summer else we shall
-have!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” thought Elizabeth; “<i>that</i> would be a delightful scheme, indeed,
-and completely do for us at once. Good Heaven! Brighton and a whole
-campful of soldiers, to us, who have been overset already by one poor
-regiment of militia, and the monthly balls of Meryton!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_274">{274}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Now I have got some news for you,” said Lydia, as they sat down to
-table. “What do you think? It is excellent news, capital news, and about
-a certain person that we all like.”</p>
-
-<p>Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, and the waiter was told that he
-need not stay. Lydia laughed, and said,—</p>
-
-<p>“Ay, that is just like your formality and discretion. You thought the
-waiter must not hear, as if he cared! I dare say he often hears worse
-things said than I am going to say. But he is an ugly fellow! I am glad
-he is gone. I never saw such a long chin in my life. Well, but now for
-my news: it is about dear Wickham; too good for the waiter, is not it?
-There is no danger of Wickham’s marrying Mary King—there’s for you! She
-is gone down to her uncle at Liverpool; gone to stay. Wickham is safe.”</p>
-
-<p>“And Mary King is safe!” added Elizabeth; “safe from a connection
-imprudent as to fortune.”</p>
-
-<p>“She is a great fool for going away, if she liked him.”</p>
-
-<p>“But I hope there is no strong attachment on either side,” said Jane.</p>
-
-<p>“I am sure there is not on <i>his</i>. I will answer for it, he never cared
-three straws about her. Who <i>could</i> about such a nasty little freckled
-thing?”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was shocked to think that, however incapable of such
-coarseness of <i>expression</i> herself, the coarseness of the <i>sentiment</i>
-was little other than her own breast had formerly harboured and fancied
-liberal!</p>
-
-<p>As soon as all had ate, and the elder ones paid, the carriage was
-ordered; and, after some contrivance, the whole party, with all their
-boxes, workbags, and parcels, and the unwelcome addition of Kitty’s and
-Lydia’s purchases, were seated in it.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_275">{275}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“How nicely we are crammed in!” cried Lydia. “I am glad I brought my
-bonnet, if it is only for the fun of having another band-box! Well, now
-let us be quite comfortable and snug, and talk and laugh all the way
-home. And in the first place, let us hear what has happened to you all
-since you went away. Have you seen any pleasant men? Have you had any
-flirting? I was in great hopes that one of you would have got a husband
-before you came back. Jane will be quite an old maid soon, I declare.
-She is almost three-and-twenty! Lord! how ashamed I should be of not
-being married before three-and-twenty! My aunt Philips wants you so to
-get husbands you can’t think. She says Lizzy had better have taken Mr.
-Collins; but <i>I</i> do not think there would have been any fun in it. Lord!
-how I should like to be married before any of you! and then I would
-<i>chaperon</i> you about to all the balls. Dear me! we had such a good piece
-of fun the other day at Colonel Forster’s! Kitty and me were to spend
-the day there, and Mrs. Forster promised to have a little dance in the
-evening; (by-the-bye, Mrs. Forster and me are <i>such</i> friends!) and so
-she asked the two Harringtons to come: but Harriet was ill, and so Pen
-was forced to come by herself; and then, what do you think we did? We
-dressed up Chamberlayne in woman’s clothes, on purpose to pass for a
-lady,—only think what fun! Not a soul knew of it, but Colonel and Mrs.
-Forster, and Kitty and me, except my aunt, for we were forced to borrow
-one of her gowns; and you cannot imagine how well he looked! When Denny,
-and Wickham, and Pratt, and two or three more of the men came in, they
-did not know him in the least. Lord! how I laughed! and so did Mrs.
-Forster. I thought I should have died. And <i>that</i> made the men<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_276">{276}</a></span> suspect
-something, and then they soon found out what was the matter.”</p>
-
-<p>With such kind of histories of their parties and good jokes did Lydia,
-assisted by Kitty’s hints and additions, endeavour to amuse her
-companions all the way to Longbourn. Elizabeth listened as little as she
-could, but there was no escaping the frequent mention of Wickham’s name.</p>
-
-<p>Their reception at home was most kind. Mrs. Bennet rejoiced to see Jane
-in undiminished beauty; and more than once during dinner did Mr. Bennet
-say voluntarily to Elizabeth,——</p>
-
-<p>“I am glad you are come back, Lizzy.”</p>
-
-<p>Their party in the dining-room was large, for almost all the Lucases
-came to meet Maria and hear the news; and various were the subjects
-which occupied them: Lady Lucas was inquiring of Maria, across the
-table, after the welfare and poultry of her eldest daughter; Mrs. Bennet
-was doubly engaged, on one hand collecting an account of the present
-fashions from Jane, who sat some way below her, and on the other,
-retailing them all to the younger Miss Lucases; and Lydia, in a voice
-rather louder than any other person’s, was enumerating the various
-pleasures of the morning to anybody who would hear her.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Mary,” said she, “I wish you had gone with us, for we had such fun!
-as we went along Kitty and me drew up all the blinds, and pretended
-there was nobody in the coach; and I should have gone so all the way, if
-Kitty had not been sick; and when we got to the George, I do think we
-behaved very handsomely, for we treated the other three with the nicest
-cold luncheon in the world, and if you would have gone, we would have
-treated you<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_277">{277}</a></span> too. And then when we came away it was such fun! I thought
-we never should have got into the coach. I was ready to die of laughter.
-And then we were so merry all the way home! we talked and laughed so
-loud, that anybody might have heard us ten miles off!”</p>
-
-<p>To this, Mary very gravely replied, “Far be it from me, my dear sister,
-to depreciate such pleasures. They would doubtless be congenial with the
-generality of female minds. But I confess they would have no charms for
-<i>me</i>. I should infinitely prefer a book.”</p>
-
-<p>But of this answer Lydia heard not a word. She seldom listened to
-anybody for more than half a minute, and never attended to Mary at all.</p>
-
-<p>In the afternoon Lydia was urgent with the rest of the girls to walk to
-Meryton, and see how everybody went on; but Elizabeth steadily opposed
-the scheme. It should not be said, that the Miss Bennets could not be at
-home half a day before they were in pursuit of the officers. There was
-another reason, too, for her opposition. She dreaded seeing Wickham
-again, and was resolved to avoid it as long as possible. The comfort to
-<i>her</i>, of the regiment’s approaching removal, was indeed beyond
-expression. In a fortnight they were to go, and once gone, she hoped
-there could be nothing more to plague her on his account.</p>
-
-<p>She had not been many hours at home, before she found that the Brighton
-scheme, of which Lydia had given them a hint at the inn, was under
-frequent discussion between her parents. Elizabeth saw directly that her
-father had not the smallest intention of yielding; but his answers were
-at the same time so vague and equivocal, that her mother, though often
-disheartened, had never yet despaired of succeeding at last.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_278">{278}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XL"></a><img src="images/i_307_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XL.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_307_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="E"></span>LIZABETH’S impatience to acquaint Jane with what had happened could no
-longer be overcome; and at length resolving to suppress every particular
-in which her sister was concerned, and preparing her to be surprised,
-she related to her the next morning the chief of the scene between Mr.
-Darcy and herself.</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bennet’s astonishment was soon lessened by the strong sisterly
-partiality which made any admiration of Elizabeth appear perfectly
-natural; and all surprise was shortly lost in other feelings. She was
-sorry that Mr. Darcy should have delivered his sentiments in a manner so
-little suited to recommend them; but still more was she grieved for the
-unhappiness which her sister’s refusal must have given him.</p>
-
-<p>“His being so sure of succeeding was wrong,” said she, “and certainly
-ought not to have appeared; but consider how much it must increase his
-disappointment.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_279">{279}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed,” replied Elizabeth, “I am heartily sorry for him; but he has
-other feelings which will probably soon drive away his regard for me.
-You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?”</p>
-
-<p>“Blame you! Oh, no.”</p>
-
-<p>“But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of Wickham?”</p>
-
-<p>“No—I do not know that you were wrong in saying what you did.”</p>
-
-<p>“But you <i>will</i> know it, when I have told you what happened the very
-next day.”</p>
-
-<p>She then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its contents as far
-as they concerned George Wickham. What a stroke was this for poor Jane,
-who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that
-so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind as was here
-collected in one individual! Nor was Darcy’s vindication, though
-grateful to her feelings, capable of consoling her for such discovery.
-Most earnestly did she labour to prove the probability of error, and
-seek to clear one, without involving the other.</p>
-
-<p>“This will not do,” said Elizabeth; “you never will be able to make both
-of them good for anything. Take your choice, but you must be satisfied
-with only one. There is but such a quantity of merit between them; just
-enough to make one good sort of man; and of late it has been shifting
-about pretty much. For my part, I am inclined to believe it all Mr.
-Darcy’s, but you shall do as you choose.”</p>
-
-<p>It was some time, however, before a smile could be extorted from Jane.</p>
-
-<p>“I do not know when I have been more shocked,” said she. “Wickham so
-very bad! It is almost past belief.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_280">{280}</a></span> And poor Mr. Darcy! dear Lizzy,
-only consider what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! and
-with the knowledge of your ill opinion too! and having to relate such a
-thing of his sister! It is really too distressing, I am sure you must
-feel it so.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing you so full
-of both. I know you will do him such ample justice, that I am growing
-every moment more unconcerned and indifferent. Your profusion makes me
-saving; and if you lament over him much longer, my heart will be as
-light as a feather.”</p>
-
-<p>“Poor Wickham! there is such an expression of goodness in his
-countenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner.”</p>
-
-<p>“There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those
-two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the
-appearance of it.”</p>
-
-<p>“I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the <i>appearance</i> of it as you
-used to do.”</p>
-
-<p>“And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike
-to him, without any reason. It is such a spur to one’s genius, such an
-opening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind. One may be continually
-abusive without saying anything just; but one cannot be always laughing
-at a man without now and then stumbling on something witty.”</p>
-
-<p>“Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am sure you could not treat
-the matter as you do now.”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed, I could not. I was uncomfortable enough, I was very
-uncomfortable—I may say unhappy. And with no one to speak to of what I
-felt, no Jane to comfort me, and say that I had not been so very weak,
-and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_281">{281}</a></span> vain, and nonsensical, as I knew I had! Oh, how I wanted you!”</p>
-
-<p>“How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong expressions
-in speaking of Wickham to Mr. Darcy, for now they <i>do</i> appear wholly
-undeserved.”</p>
-
-<p>“Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness is a most
-natural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging. There is
-one point on which I want your advice. I want to be told whether I
-ought, or ought not, to make our acquaintance in general understand
-Wickham’s character.”</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bennet paused a little, and then replied, “Surely there can be no
-occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. What is your own opinion?”</p>
-
-<p>“That it ought not to be attempted. Mr. Darcy has not authorized me to
-make his communication public. On the contrary, every particular
-relative to his sister was meant to be kept as much as possible to
-myself; and if I endeavour to undeceive people as to the rest of his
-conduct, who will believe me? The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is
-so violent, that it would be the death of half the good people in
-Meryton, to attempt to place him in an amiable light. I am not equal to
-it. Wickham will soon be gone; and, therefore, it will not signify to
-anybody here what he really is. Some time hence it will be all found
-out, and then we may laugh at their stupidity in not knowing it before.
-At present I will say nothing about it.”</p>
-
-<p>“You are quite right. To have his errors made public might ruin him for
-ever. He is now, perhaps, sorry for what he has done, and anxious to
-re-establish a character. We must not make him desperate.”</p>
-
-<p>The tumult of Elizabeth’s mind was allayed by this<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_282">{282}</a></span> conversation. She
-had got rid of two of the secrets which had weighed on her for a
-fortnight, and was certain of a willing listener in Jane, whenever she
-might wish to talk again of either. But there was still something
-lurking behind, of which prudence forbade the disclosure. She dared not
-relate the other half of Mr. Darcy’s letter, nor explain to her sister
-how sincerely she had been valued by his friend. Here was knowledge in
-which no one could partake; and she was sensible that nothing less than
-a perfect understanding between the parties could justify her in
-throwing off this last encumbrance of mystery. “And then,” said she, “if
-that very improbable event should ever take place, I shall merely be
-able to tell what Bingley may tell in a much more agreeable manner
-himself. The liberty of communication cannot be mine till it has lost
-all its value!”</p>
-
-<p>She was now, on being settled at home, at leisure to observe the real
-state of her sister’s spirits. Jane was not happy. She still cherished a
-very tender affection for Bingley. Having never even fancied herself in
-love before, her regard had all the warmth of first attachment, and from
-her age and disposition, greater steadiness than first attachments often
-boast; and so fervently did she value his remembrance, and prefer him to
-every other man, that all her good sense, and all her attention to the
-feelings of her friends, were requisite to check the indulgence of those
-regrets which must have been injurious to her own health and their
-tranquillity.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet, one day, “what is your opinion <i>now</i> of
-this sad business of Jane’s? For my part, I am determined never to speak
-of it again to anybody. I told my sister Philips so the other day. But I
-cannot find out that Jane saw anything of him in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_283">{283}</a></span> London. Well, he is a
-very undeserving young man—and I do not suppose there is the least
-chance in the world of her ever getting him now. There is no talk of his
-coming to Netherfield again in the summer; and I have inquired of
-everybody, too, who is likely to know.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 351px;">
-<img src="images/i_312.jpg" width="351" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p>“I am determined never to speak of it again”</p></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_284">{284}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“I do not believe that he will ever live at Netherfield any more.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, well! it is just as he chooses. Nobody wants him to come; though I
-shall always say that he used my daughter extremely ill; and, if I was
-her, I would not have put up with it. Well, my comfort is, I am sure
-Jane will die of a broken heart, and then he will be sorry for what he
-has done.”</p>
-
-<p>But as Elizabeth could not receive comfort from any such expectation she
-made no answer.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, Lizzy,” continued her mother, soon afterwards, “and so the
-Collinses live very comfortable, do they? Well, well, I only hope it
-will last. And what sort of table do they keep? Charlotte is an
-excellent manager, I dare say. If she is half as sharp as her mother,
-she is saving enough. There is nothing extravagant in <i>their</i>
-housekeeping, I dare say.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, nothing at all.”</p>
-
-<p>“A great deal of good management, depend upon it. Yes, yes. <i>They</i> will
-take care not to outrun their income. <i>They</i> will never be distressed
-for money. Well, much good may it do them! And so, I suppose, they often
-talk of having Longbourn when your father is dead. They look upon it
-quite as their own, I dare say, whenever that happens.”</p>
-
-<p>“It was a subject which they could not mention before me.”</p>
-
-<p>“No; it would have been strange if they had. But I make no doubt they
-often talk of it between themselves. Well, if they can be easy with an
-estate that is not lawfully their own, so much the better. <i>I</i> should be
-ashamed of having one that was only entailed on me.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_285">{285}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a><img src="images/i_314_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“When Colonel Miller’s regiment went.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XLI.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_314_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="T"></span>HE first week of their return was soon gone. The second began. It was
-the last of the regiment’s stay in Meryton, and all the young ladies in
-the neighbourhood were drooping apace. The dejection was almost
-universal. The elder Miss Bennets alone were still able to eat, drink,
-and sleep, and pursue the usual course of their employments. Very
-frequently were they reproached for this insensibility by Kitty and
-Lydia,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_286">{286}</a></span> whose own misery was extreme, and who could not comprehend such
-hard-heartedness in any of the family.</p>
-
-<p>“Good Heaven! What is to become of us? What are we to do?” would they
-often exclaim in the bitterness of woe. “How can you be smiling so,
-Lizzy?”</p>
-
-<p>Their affectionate mother shared all their grief; she remembered what
-she had herself endured on a similar occasion five-and-twenty years ago.</p>
-
-<p>“I am sure,” said she, “I cried for two days together when Colonel
-Miller’s regiment went away. I thought I should have broke my heart.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am sure I shall break <i>mine</i>,” said Lydia.</p>
-
-<p>“If one could but go to Brighton!” observed Mrs. Bennet.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh yes!—if one could but go to Brighton! But papa is so disagreeable.”</p>
-
-<p>“A little sea-bathing would set me up for ever.”</p>
-
-<p>“And my aunt Philips is sure it would do <i>me</i> a great deal of good,”
-added Kitty.</p>
-
-<p>Such were the kind of lamentations resounding perpetually through
-Longbourn House. Elizabeth tried to be diverted by them; but all sense
-of pleasure was lost in shame. She felt anew the justice of Mr. Darcy’s
-objections; and never had she before been so much disposed to pardon his
-interference in the views of his friend.</p>
-
-<p>But the gloom of Lydia’s prospect was shortly cleared away; for she
-received an invitation from Mrs. Forster, the wife of the colonel of the
-regiment, to accompany her to Brighton. This invaluable friend was a
-very young woman, and very lately married. A resemblance in good-humour
-and good spirits had recommended her and Lydia to each other, and out of
-their <i>three</i> months’ acquaintance they had been intimate <i>two</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_287">{287}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adoration of Mrs. Forster,
-the delight of Mrs. Bennet, and the mortification of Kitty, are scarcely
-to be described. Wholly inattentive to her sister’s feelings, Lydia flew
-about the house in restless ecstasy, calling for everyone’s
-congratulations, and laughing and talking with more violence than ever;
-whilst the luckless Kitty continued in the parlour repining at her fate
-in terms as unreasonable as her accent was peevish.</p>
-
-<p>“I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask <i>me</i> as well as Lydia,”
-said she, “though I am <i>not</i> her particular friend. I have just as much
-right to be asked as she has, and more too, for I am two years older.”</p>
-
-<p>In vain did Elizabeth attempt to make her reasonable, and Jane to make
-her resigned. As for Elizabeth herself, this invitation was so far from
-exciting in her the same feelings as in her mother and Lydia, that she
-considered it as the death-warrant of all possibility of common sense
-for the latter; and detestable as such a step must make her, were it
-known, she could not help secretly advising her father not to let her
-go. She represented to him all the improprieties of Lydia’s general
-behaviour, the little advantage she could derive from the friendship of
-such a woman as Mrs. Forster, and the probability of her being yet more
-imprudent with such a companion at Brighton, where the temptations must
-be greater than at home. He heard her attentively, and then said,—</p>
-
-<p>“Lydia will never be easy till she has exposed herself in some public
-place or other, and we can never expect her to do it with so little
-expense or inconvenience to her family as under the present
-circumstances.”</p>
-
-<p>“If you were aware,” said Elizabeth, “of the very great<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_288">{288}</a></span> disadvantage to
-us all, which must arise from the public notice of Lydia’s unguarded and
-imprudent manner, nay, which has already arisen from it, I am sure you
-would judge differently in the affair.”</p>
-
-<p>“Already arisen!” repeated Mr. Bennet. “What! has she frightened away
-some of your lovers? Poor little Lizzy! But do not be cast down. Such
-squeamish youths as cannot bear to be connected with a little absurdity
-are not worth a regret. Come, let me see the list of the pitiful fellows
-who have been kept aloof by Lydia’s folly.”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed, you are mistaken. I have no such injuries to resent. It is not
-of peculiar, but of general evils, which I am now complaining. Our
-importance, our respectability in the world, must be affected by the
-wild volatility, the assurance and disdain of all restraint which mark
-Lydia’s character. Excuse me,—for I must speak plainly. If you, my dear
-father, will not take the trouble of checking her exuberant spirits, and
-of teaching her that her present pursuits are not to be the business of
-her life, she will soon be beyond the reach of amendment. Her character
-will be fixed; and she will, at sixteen, be the most determined flirt
-that ever made herself and her family ridiculous;—a flirt, too, in the
-worst and meanest degree of flirtation; without any attraction beyond
-youth and a tolerable person; and, from the ignorance and emptiness of
-her mind, wholly unable to ward off any portion of that universal
-contempt which her rage for admiration will excite. In this danger Kitty
-is also comprehended. She will follow wherever Lydia leads. Vain,
-ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled! Oh, my dear father, can you
-suppose it possible that they will not be censured and despised wherever
-they are known, and that their sisters will not be often involved in the
-disgrace?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_289">{289}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the subject; and,
-affectionately taking her hand, said, in reply,—</p>
-
-<p>“Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane are known,
-you must be respected and valued; and you will not appear to less
-advantage for having a couple of—or I may say, three—very silly
-sisters. We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go to
-Brighton. Let her go, then. Colonel Forster is a sensible man, and will
-keep her out of any real mischief; and she is luckily too poor to be an
-object of prey to anybody. At Brighton she will be of less importance
-even as a common flirt than she has been here. The officers will find
-women better worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that her being
-there may teach her her own insignificance. At any rate, she cannot grow
-many degrees worse, without authorizing us to lock her up for the rest
-of her life.”</p>
-
-<p>With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be content; but her own opinion
-continued the same, and she left him disappointed and sorry. It was not
-in her nature, however, to increase her vexations by dwelling on them.
-She was confident of having performed her duty; and to fret over
-unavoidable evils, or augment them by anxiety, was no part of her
-disposition.</p>
-
-<p>Had Lydia and her mother known the substance of her conference with her
-father, their indignation would hardly have found expression in their
-united volubility. In Lydia’s imagination, a visit to Brighton comprised
-every possibility of earthly happiness. She saw, with the creative eye
-of fancy, the streets of that gay bathing-place covered with officers.
-She saw herself the object of attention to tens and to scores of them at
-present unknown. She saw all the glories of the camp: its<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_290">{290}</a></span> tents
-stretched forth in beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded with the young
-and the gay, and dazzling with scarlet; and, to complete the view, she
-saw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly flirting with at least six
-officers at once.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
-<img src="images/i_319.jpg" width="550" height="472" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>
-“Tenderly flirting”<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Had she known that her sister sought to tear her from such prospects and
-such realities as these, what would have been her sensations? They could
-have been understood only by her mother, who might have felt nearly the
-same. Lydia’s going to Brighton was all that consoled her for the
-melancholy conviction of her husband’s never intending to go there
-himself.</p>
-
-<p>But they were entirely ignorant of what had passed;<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_291">{291}</a></span> and their raptures
-continued, with little intermission, to the very day of Lydia’s leaving
-home.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was now to see Mr. Wickham for the last time. Having been
-frequently in company with him since her return, agitation was pretty
-well over; the agitations of former partiality entirely so. She had even
-learnt to detect, in the very gentleness which had first delighted her,
-an affectation and a sameness to disgust and weary. In his present
-behaviour to herself, moreover, she had a fresh source of displeasure;
-for the inclination he soon testified of renewing those attentions which
-had marked the early part of their acquaintance could only serve, after
-what had since passed, to provoke her. She lost all concern for him in
-finding herself thus selected as the object of such idle and frivolous
-gallantry; and while she steadily repressed it, could not but feel the
-reproof contained in his believing, that however long, and for whatever
-cause, his attentions had been withdrawn, her vanity would be gratified,
-and her preference secured, at any time, by their renewal.</p>
-
-<p>On the very last day of the regiment’s remaining in Meryton, he dined,
-with others of the officers, at Longbourn; and so little was Elizabeth
-disposed to part from him in good-humour, that, on his making some
-inquiry as to the manner in which her time had passed at Hunsford, she
-mentioned Colonel Fitzwilliam’s and Mr. Darcy’s having both spent three
-weeks at Rosings, and asked him if he were acquainted with the former.</p>
-
-<p>He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed; but, with a moment’s
-recollection, and a returning smile, replied, that he had formerly seen
-him often; and, after observing that he was a very gentlemanlike man,
-asked her how she had liked him. Her answer was warmly in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_292">{292}</a></span> his favour.
-With an air of indifference, he soon afterwards added, “How long did you
-say that he was at Rosings?”</p>
-
-<p>“Nearly three weeks.”</p>
-
-<p>“And you saw him frequently?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, almost every day.”</p>
-
-<p>“His manners are very different from his cousin’s.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, very different; but I think Mr. Darcy improves on acquaintance.”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed!” cried Wickham, with a look which did not escape her. “And pray
-may I ask—” but checking himself, he added, in a gayer tone, “Is it in
-address that he improves? Has he deigned to add aught of civility to his
-ordinary style? for I dare not hope,” he continued, in a lower and more
-serious tone, “that he is improved in essentials.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, no!” said Elizabeth. “In essentials, I believe, he is very much
-what he ever was.”</p>
-
-<p>While she spoke, Wickham looked as if scarcely knowing whether to
-rejoice over her words or to distrust their meaning. There was a
-something in her countenance which made him listen with an apprehensive
-and anxious attention, while she added,—</p>
-
-<p>“When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean that
-either his mind or manners were in a state of improvement; but that,
-from knowing him better, his disposition was better understood.”</p>
-
-<p>Wickham’s alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and agitated
-look; for a few minutes he was silent; till, shaking off his
-embarrassment, he turned to her again, and said in the gentlest of
-accents,—</p>
-
-<p>“You, who so well know my feelings towards Mr. Darcy, will readily
-comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assume
-even the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_293">{293}</a></span> <i>appearance</i> of what is right. His pride, in that direction,
-may be of service, if not to himself, to many others, for it must deter
-him from such foul misconduct as I have suffered by. I only fear that
-the sort of cautiousness to which you, I imagine, have been alluding, is
-merely adopted on his visits to his aunt, of whose good opinion and
-judgment he stands much in awe. His fear of her has always operated, I
-know, when they were together; and a good deal is to be imputed to his
-wish of forwarding the match with Miss de Bourgh, which I am certain he
-has very much at heart.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth could not repress a smile at this, but she answered only by a
-slight inclination of the head. She saw that he wanted to engage her on
-the old subject of his grievances, and she was in no humour to indulge
-him. The rest of the evening passed with the <i>appearance</i>, on his side,
-of usual cheerfulness, but with no further attempt to distinguish
-Elizabeth; and they parted at last with mutual civility, and possibly a
-mutual desire of never meeting again.</p>
-
-<p>When the party broke up, Lydia returned with Mrs. Forster to Meryton,
-from whence they were to set out early the next morning. The separation
-between her and her family was rather noisy than pathetic. Kitty was the
-only one who shed tears; but she did weep from vexation and envy. Mrs.
-Bennet was diffuse in her good wishes for the felicity of her daughter,
-and impressive in her injunctions that she would not miss the
-opportunity of enjoying herself as much as possible,—advice which there
-was every reason to believe would be attended to; and, in the clamorous
-happiness of Lydia herself in bidding farewell, the more gentle adieus
-of her sisters were uttered without being heard.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_294">{294}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a><img src="images/i_323_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“The arrival of the Gardiners.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XLII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_323_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="H"></span>AD Elizabeth’s opinion been all drawn from her own family, she could
-not have formed a very pleasing picture of conjugal felicity or domestic
-comfort. Her father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance
-of good-humour which youth and beauty generally give, had married a
-woman whose weak understanding and illiberal mind had very early in
-their marriage put an end to all real affection for her.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_295">{295}</a></span> Respect,
-esteem, and confidence had vanished for ever; and all his views of
-domestic happiness were overthrown. But Mr. Bennet was not of a
-disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment which his own
-imprudence had brought on in any of those pleasures which too often
-console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice. He was fond of
-the country and of books; and from these tastes had arisen his principal
-enjoyments. To his wife he was very little otherwise indebted than as
-her ignorance and folly had contributed to his amusement. This is not
-the sort of happiness which a man would in general wish to owe to his
-wife; but where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true
-philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of her
-father’s behaviour as a husband. She had always seen it with pain; but
-respecting his abilities, and grateful for his affectionate treatment of
-herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook, and to
-banish from her thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation
-and decorum which, in exposing his wife to the contempt of her own
-children, was so highly reprehensible. But she had never felt so
-strongly as now the disadvantages which must attend the children of so
-unsuitable a marriage, nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising
-from so ill-judged a direction of talents—talents which, rightly used,
-might at least have preserved the respectability of his daughters, even
-if incapable of enlarging the mind of his wife.</p>
-
-<p>When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham’s departure, she found little
-other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the regiment. Their parties
-abroad were less varied than before; and at home she had a mother and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_296">{296}</a></span>
-sister, whose constant repinings at the dulness of everything around
-them threw a real gloom over their domestic circle; and, though Kitty
-might in time regain her natural degree of sense, since the disturbers
-of her brain were removed, her other sister, from whose disposition
-greater evil might be apprehended, was likely to be hardened in all her
-folly and assurance, by a situation of such double danger as a
-watering-place and a camp. Upon the whole, therefore, she found, what
-has been sometimes found before, that an event to which she had looked
-forward with impatient desire, did not, in taking place, bring all the
-satisfaction she had promised herself. It was consequently necessary to
-name some other period for the commencement of actual felicity; to have
-some other point on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and by
-again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the
-present, and prepare for another disappointment. Her tour to the Lakes
-was now the object of her happiest thoughts: it was her best consolation
-for all the uncomfortable hours which the discontentedness of her mother
-and Kitty made inevitable; and could she have included Jane in the
-scheme, every part of it would have been perfect.</p>
-
-<p>“But it is fortunate,” thought she, “that I have something to wish for.
-Were the whole arrangement complete, my disappointment would be certain.
-But here, by carrying with me one ceaseless source of regret in my
-sister’s absence, I may reasonably hope to have all my expectations of
-pleasure realized. A scheme of which every part promises delight can
-never be successful; and general disappointment is only warded off by
-the defence of some little peculiar vexation.”</p>
-
-<p>When Lydia went away she promised to write very<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_297">{297}</a></span> often and very minutely
-to her mother and Kitty; but her letters were always long expected, and
-always very short. Those to her mother contained little else than that
-they were just returned from the library, where such and such officers
-had attended them, and where she had seen such beautiful ornaments as
-made her quite wild; that she had a new gown, or a new parasol, which
-she would have described more fully, but was obliged to leave off in a
-violent hurry, as Mrs. Forster called her, and they were going to the
-camp; and from her correspondence with her sister there was still less
-to be learnt, for her letters to Kitty, though rather longer, were much
-too full of lines under the words to be made public.</p>
-
-<p>After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, health,
-good-humour, and cheerfulness began to reappear at Longbourn. Everything
-wore a happier aspect. The families who had been in town for the winter
-came back again, and summer finery and summer engagements arose. Mrs.
-Bennet was restored to her usual querulous serenity; and by the middle
-of June Kitty was so much recovered as to be able to enter Meryton
-without tears,—an event of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth
-hope, that by the following Christmas she might be so tolerably
-reasonable as not to mention an officer above once a day, unless, by
-some cruel and malicious arrangement at the War Office, another regiment
-should be quartered in Meryton.</p>
-
-<p>The time fixed for the beginning of their northern tour was now fast
-approaching; and a fortnight only was wanting of it, when a letter
-arrived from Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed its commencement and
-curtailed its extent. Mr. Gardiner would be prevented by business from
-setting out till a fortnight later in July,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_298">{298}</a></span> and must be in London again
-within a month; and as that left too short a period for them to go so
-far, and see so much as they had proposed, or at least to see it with
-the leisure and comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give up
-the Lakes, and substitute a more contracted tour; and, according to the
-present plan, were to go no farther northward than Derbyshire. In that
-county there was enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their three
-weeks; and to Mrs. Gardiner it had a peculiarly strong attraction. The
-town where she had formerly passed some years of her life, and where
-they were now to spend a few days, was probably as great an object of
-her curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth,
-Dovedale, or the Peak.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was excessively disappointed: she had set her heart on seeing
-the Lakes; and still thought there might have been time enough. But it
-was her business to be satisfied—and certainly her temper to be happy;
-and all was soon right again.</p>
-
-<p>With the mention of Derbyshire, there were many ideas connected. It was
-impossible for her to see the word without thinking of Pemberley and its
-owner. “But surely,” said she, “I may enter his county with impunity,
-and rob it of a few petrified spars, without his perceiving me.”</p>
-
-<p>The period of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks were to pass away
-before her uncle and aunt’s arrival. But they did pass away, and Mr. and
-Mrs. Gardiner, with their four children, did at length appear at
-Longbourn. The children, two girls of six and eight years old, and two
-younger boys, were to be left under the particular care of their cousin
-Jane, who was the general favourite, and whose steady sense and
-sweetness<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_299">{299}</a></span> of temper exactly adapted her for attending to them in every
-way—teaching them, playing with them, and loving them.</p>
-
-<p>The Gardiners stayed only one night at Longbourn, and set off the next
-morning with Elizabeth in pursuit of novelty and amusement. One
-enjoyment was certain—that of suitableness as companions; a
-suitableness which comprehended health and temper to bear
-inconveniences—cheerfulness to enhance every pleasure—and affection
-and intelligence, which might supply it among themselves if there were
-disappointments abroad.</p>
-
-<p>It is not the object of this work to give a description of Derbyshire,
-nor of any of the remarkable places through which their route thither
-lay—Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth, Birmingham, etc., are
-sufficiently known. A small part of Derbyshire is all the present
-concern. To the little town of Lambton, the scene of Mrs. Gardiner’s
-former residence, and where she had lately learned that some
-acquaintance still remained, they bent their steps, after having seen
-all the principal wonders of the country; and within five miles of
-Lambton, Elizabeth found, from her aunt, that Pemberley was situated. It
-was not in their direct road; nor more than a mile or two out of it. In
-talking over their route the evening before, Mrs. Gardiner expressed an
-inclination to see the place again. Mr. Gardiner declared his
-willingness, and Elizabeth was applied to for her approbation.</p>
-
-<p>“My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have heard so
-much?” said her aunt. “A place, too, with which so many of your
-acquaintance are connected. Wickham passed all his youth there, you
-know.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_300">{300}</a></span> business at
-Pemberley, and was obliged to assume a disinclination for seeing it. She
-must own that she was tired of great houses: after going over so many,
-she really had no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Gardiner abused her stupidity. “If it were merely a fine house
-richly furnished,” said she, “I should not care about it myself; but the
-grounds are delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the
-country.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth said no more; but her mind could not acquiesce. The
-possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy, while viewing the place, instantly
-occurred. It would be dreadful! She blushed at the very idea; and
-thought it would be better to speak openly to her aunt, than to run such
-a risk. But against this there were objections; and she finally resolved
-that it could be the last resource, if her private inquiries as to the
-absence of the family were unfavourably answered.</p>
-
-<p>Accordingly, when she retired at night, she asked the chambermaid
-whether Pemberley were not a very fine place, what was the name of its
-proprietor, and, with no little alarm, whether the family were down for
-the summer? A most welcome negative followed the last question; and her
-alarms being now removed, she was at leisure to feel a great deal of
-curiosity to see the house herself; and when the subject was revived the
-next morning, and she was again applied to, could readily answer, and
-with a proper air of indifference, that she had not really any dislike
-to the scheme.</p>
-
-<p>To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_301">{301}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a><img src="images/i_330_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“Conjecturing as to the date.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XLIII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_330_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="E"></span>LIZABETH, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance of
-Pemberley Woods with some perturbation; and when at length they turned
-in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter.</p>
-
-<p>The park was very large, and contained great variety of ground. They
-entered it in one of its lowest points, and drove for some time through
-a beautiful wood stretching over a wide extent.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired
-every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for
-half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable
-eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by
-Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of the valley, into which
-the road with<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_302">{302}</a></span> some abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome stone
-building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high
-woody hills; and in front a stream of some natural importance was
-swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks
-were neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She
-had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural
-beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were
-all of them warm in their admiration; and at that moment she felt that
-to be mistress of Pemberley might be something!</p>
-
-<p>They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door; and,
-while examining the nearer aspect of the house, all her apprehension of
-meeting its owner returned. She dreaded lest the chambermaid had been
-mistaken. On applying to see the place, they were admitted into the
-hall; and Elizabeth, as they waited for the housekeeper, had leisure to
-wonder at her being where she was.</p>
-
-<p>The housekeeper came; a respectable looking elderly woman, much less
-fine, and more civil, than she had any notion of finding her. They
-followed her into the dining-parlour. It was a large, well-proportioned
-room, handsomely fitted up. Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, went
-to a window to enjoy its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, from
-which they had descended, receiving increased abruptness from the
-distance, was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was
-good; and she looked on the whole scene, the river, the trees scattered
-on its banks, and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace
-it, with delight. As they passed into other rooms, these objects were
-taking different positions; but<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_303">{303}</a></span> from every window there were beauties
-to be seen. The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture
-suitable to the fortune of their proprietor; but Elizabeth saw, with
-admiration of his taste, that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly
-fine,—with less of splendour, and more real elegance, than the
-furniture of Rosings.</p>
-
-<p>“And of this place,” thought she, “I might have been mistress! With
-these rooms I might have now been familiarly acquainted! Instead of
-viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced in them as my own, and
-welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and aunt. But, no,” recollecting
-herself, “that could never be; my uncle and aunt would have been lost to
-me; I should not have been allowed to invite them.”</p>
-
-<p>This was a lucky recollection—it saved her from something like regret.</p>
-
-<p>She longed to inquire of the housekeeper whether her master were really
-absent, but had not courage for it. At length, however, the question was
-asked by her uncle; and she turned away with alarm, while Mrs. Reynolds
-replied, that he was; adding, “But we expect him to-morrow, with a large
-party of friends.” How rejoiced was Elizabeth that their own journey had
-not by any circumstance been delayed a day!</p>
-
-<p>Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She approached, and saw
-the likeness of Mr. Wickham, suspended, amongst several other
-miniatures, over the mantel-piece. Her aunt asked her, smilingly, how
-she liked it. The housekeeper came forward, and told them it was the
-picture of a young gentleman, the son of her late master’s steward, who
-had been brought up by him at his own expense. “He is now gone into the
-army,” she added; “but I am afraid he has turned out very wild.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_304">{304}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizabeth could not
-return it.</p>
-
-<p>“And that,” said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another of the miniatures,
-“is my master—and very like him. It was drawn at the same time as the
-other—about eight years ago.”</p>
-
-<p>“I have heard much of your master’s fine person,” said Mrs. Gardiner,
-looking at the picture; “it is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell
-us whether it is like or not.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Reynolds’ respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this
-intimation of her knowing her master.</p>
-
-<p>“Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth coloured, and said, “A little.”</p>
-
-<p>“And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma’am?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, very handsome.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am sure <i>I</i> know none so handsome; but in the gallery upstairs you
-will see a finer, larger picture of him than this. This room was my late
-master’s favourite room, and these miniatures are just as they used to
-be then. He was very fond of them.”</p>
-
-<p>This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr. Wickham’s being among them.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to one of Miss Darcy, drawn
-when she was only eight years old.</p>
-
-<p>“And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?” said Mr. Gardiner.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes—the handsomest young lady that ever was seen; and so
-accomplished! She plays and sings all day long. In the next room is a
-new instrument just come down for her—a present from my master: she
-comes here to-morrow with him.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were easy and pleasant,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_305">{305}</a></span> encouraged her
-communicativeness by his questions and remarks: Mrs. Reynolds, either
-from pride or attachment, had evidently great pleasure in talking of her
-master and his sister.</p>
-
-<p>“Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not so much as I could wish, sir: but I dare say he may spend half his
-time here; and Miss Darcy is always down for the summer months.”</p>
-
-<p>“Except,” thought Elizabeth, “when she goes to Ramsgate.”</p>
-
-<p>“If your master would marry, you might see more of him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir; but I do not know when <i>that</i> will be. I do not know who is
-good enough for him.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth could not help saying, “It is
-very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think so.”</p>
-
-<p>“I say no more than the truth, and what everybody will say that knows
-him,” replied the other. Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far;
-and she listened with increasing astonishment as the housekeeper added,
-“I have never had a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him
-ever since he was four years old.”</p>
-
-<p>This was praise of all others most extraordinary, most opposite to her
-ideas. That he was not a good-tempered man had been her firmest opinion.
-Her keenest attention was awakened: she longed to hear more; and was
-grateful to her uncle for saying,—</p>
-
-<p>“There are very few people of whom so much can be said. You are lucky in
-having such a master.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, I know I am. If I were to go through the world, I could not
-meet with a better. But I have always<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_306">{306}</a></span> observed, that they who are
-good-natured when children, are good-natured when they grow up; and he
-was always the sweetest tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the
-world.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth almost stared at her. “Can this be Mr. Darcy?” thought she.</p>
-
-<p>“His father was an excellent man,” said Mrs. Gardiner.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, ma’am, that he was indeed; and his son will be just like him—just
-as affable to the poor.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for more. Mrs.
-Reynolds could interest her on no other point. She related the subjects
-of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, and the price of the
-furniture in vain. Mr. Gardiner, highly amused by the kind of family
-prejudice, to which he attributed her excessive commendation of her
-master, soon led again to the subject; and she dwelt with energy on his
-many merits, as they proceeded together up the great staircase.</p>
-
-<p>“He is the best landlord, and the best master,” said she, “that ever
-lived. Not like the wild young men now-a-days, who think of nothing but
-themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but what will
-give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never
-saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle
-away like other young men.”</p>
-
-<p>“In what an amiable light does this place him!” thought Elizabeth.</p>
-
-<p>“This fine account of him,” whispered her aunt as they walked, “is not
-quite consistent with his behaviour to our poor friend.”</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps we might be deceived.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is not very likely; our authority was too good.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_307">{307}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>On reaching the spacious lobby above, they were shown into a very pretty
-sitting-room, lately fitted up with greater elegance and lightness than
-the apartments below; and were informed that it was but just done to
-give pleasure to Miss Darcy, who had taken a liking to the room, when
-last at Pemberley.</p>
-
-<p>“He is certainly a good brother,” said Elizabeth, as she walked towards
-one of the windows.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Reynolds anticipated Miss Darcy’s delight, when she should enter
-the room. “And this is always the way with him,” she added. “Whatever
-can give his sister any pleasure, is sure to be done in a moment. There
-is nothing he would not do for her.”</p>
-
-<p>The picture gallery, and two or three of the principal bed-rooms, were
-all that remained to be shown. In the former were many good paintings:
-but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art; and from such as had been already
-visible below, she had willingly turned to look at some drawings of Miss
-Darcy’s, in crayons, whose subjects were usually more interesting, and
-also more intelligible.</p>
-
-<p>In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could have
-little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked on in quest
-of the only face whose features would be known to her. At last it
-arrested her—and she beheld a striking resemblance of Mr. Darcy, with
-such a smile over the face, as she remembered to have sometimes seen,
-when he looked at her. She stood several minutes before the picture, in
-earnest contemplation, and returned to it again before they quitted the
-gallery. Mrs. Reynolds informed them, that it had been taken in his
-father’s lifetime.</p>
-
-<p>There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabet<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_308">{308}</a></span>h’s mind, a more gentle
-sensation towards the original than she had ever felt in the height of
-their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs. Reynolds
-was of no trifling nature. What praise is more valuable than the praise
-of an intelligent servant? As a brother, a landlord, a master, she
-considered how many people’s happiness were in his guardianship! How
-much of pleasure or pain it was in his power to bestow! How much of good
-or evil must be done by him! Every idea that had been brought forward by
-the housekeeper was favourable to his character; and as she stood before
-the canvas, on which he was represented, and fixed his eyes upon
-herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper sentiment of gratitude
-than it had ever raised before: she remembered its warmth, and softened
-its impropriety of expression.</p>
-
-<p>When all of the house that was open to general inspection had been seen,
-they returned down stairs; and, taking leave of the housekeeper, were
-consigned over to the gardener, who met them at the hall door.</p>
-
-<p>As they walked across the lawn towards the river, Elizabeth turned back
-to look again; her uncle and aunt stopped also; and while the former was
-conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself
-suddenly came forward from the road which led behind it to the stables.</p>
-
-<p>They were within twenty yards of each other; and so abrupt was his
-appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their eyes
-instantly met, and the cheeks of each were overspread with the deepest
-blush. He absolutely started, and for a moment seemed immovable from
-surprise; but shortly recovering himself, advanced towards the party,
-and spoke to Elizabeth,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_309">{309}</a></span> if not in terms of perfect composure, at least
-of perfect civility.</p>
-
-<p>She had instinctively turned away; but stopping on his approach,
-received his compliments with an embarrassment impossible to be
-overcome. Had his first appearance, or his resemblance to the picture
-they had just been examining, been insufficient to assure the other two
-that they now saw Mr. Darcy, the gardener’s expression of surprise, on
-beholding his master, must immediately have told it. They stood a little
-aloof while he was talking to their niece, who, astonished and confused,
-scarcely dared lift her eyes to his face, and knew not what answer she
-returned to his civil inquiries after her family. Amazed at the
-alteration of his manner since they last parted, every sentence that he
-uttered was increasing her embarrassment; and every idea of the
-impropriety of her being found there recurring to her mind, the few
-minutes in which they continued together were some of the most
-uncomfortable of her life. Nor did he seem much more at ease; when he
-spoke, his accent had none of its usual sedateness; and he repeated his
-inquiries as to the time of her having left Longbourn, and of her stay
-in Derbyshire, so often, and in so hurried a way, as plainly spoke the
-distraction of his thoughts.</p>
-
-<p>At length, every idea seemed to fail him; and after standing a few
-moments without saying a word, he suddenly recollected himself, and took
-leave.</p>
-
-<p>The others then joined her, and expressed their admiration of his
-figure; but Elizabeth heard not a word, and, wholly engrossed by her own
-feelings, followed them in silence. She was overpowered by shame and
-vexation. Her coming there was the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged
-thing in the world! How strange must it<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_310">{310}</a></span> appear to him! In what a
-disgraceful light might it not strike so vain a man! It might seem as if
-she had purposely thrown herself in his way again! Oh! why did she come?
-or, why did he thus come a day before he was expected? Had they been
-only ten minutes sooner, they should have been beyond the reach of his
-discrimination; for it was plain that he was that moment arrived, that
-moment alighted from his horse or his carriage. She blushed again and
-again over the perverseness of the meeting. And his behaviour, so
-strikingly altered,—what could it mean? That he should even speak to
-her was amazing!—but to speak with such civility, to inquire after her
-family! Never in her life had she seen his manners so little dignified,
-never had he spoken with such gentleness as on this unexpected meeting.
-What a contrast did it offer to his last address in Rosings Park, when
-he put his letter into her hand! She knew not what to think, or how to
-account for it.</p>
-
-<p>They had now entered a beautiful walk by the side of the water, and
-every step was bringing forward a nobler fall of ground, or a finer
-reach of the woods to which they were approaching: but it was some time
-before Elizabeth was sensible of any of it; and, though she answered
-mechanically to the repeated appeals of her uncle and aunt, and seemed
-to direct her eyes to such objects as they pointed out, she
-distinguished no part of the scene. Her thoughts were all fixed on that
-one spot of Pemberley House, whichever it might be, where Mr. Darcy then
-was. She longed to know what at that moment was passing in his mind; in
-what manner he thought of her, and whether, in defiance of everything,
-she was still dear to him. Perhaps he had been civil only because he
-felt himself at ease; yet there had been<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_311">{311}</a></span> <i>that</i> in his voice, which was
-not like ease. Whether he had felt more of pain or of pleasure in seeing
-her, she could not tell, but he certainly had not seen her with
-composure.</p>
-
-<p>At length, however, the remarks of her companions on her absence of mind
-roused her, and she felt the necessity of appearing more like herself.</p>
-
-<p>They entered the woods, and, bidding adieu to the river for a while,
-ascended some of the higher grounds; whence, in spots where the opening
-of the trees gave the eye power to wander, were many charming views of
-the valley, the opposite hills, with the long range of woods
-overspreading many, and occasionally part of the stream. Mr. Gardiner
-expressed a wish of going round the whole park, but feared it might be
-beyond a walk. With a triumphant smile, they were told, that it was ten
-miles round. It settled the matter; and they pursued the accustomed
-circuit; which brought them again, after some time, in a descent among
-hanging woods, to the edge of the water, and one of its narrowest parts.
-They crossed it by a simple bridge, in character with the general air of
-the scene: it was a spot less adorned than any they had yet visited; and
-the valley, here contracted into a glen, allowed room only for the
-stream, and a narrow walk amidst the rough coppice-wood which bordered
-it. Elizabeth longed to explore its windings; but when they had crossed
-the bridge, and perceived their distance from the house, Mrs. Gardiner,
-who was not a great walker, could go no farther, and thought only of
-returning to the carriage as quickly as possible. Her niece was,
-therefore, obliged to submit, and they took their way towards the house
-on the opposite side of the river, in the nearest direction; but their
-progress was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_312">{312}</a></span> slow, for Mr. Gardiner, though seldom able to indulge the
-taste, was very fond of fishing, and was so much engaged in watching the
-occasional appearance of some trout in the water, and talking to the man
-about them, that he advanced but little. Whilst wandering on in this
-slow manner, they were again surprised, and Elizabeth’s astonishment was
-quite equal to what it had been at first, by the sight of Mr. Darcy
-approaching them, and at no great distance. The walk being here less
-sheltered than on the other side, allowed them to see him before they
-met. Elizabeth, however astonished, was at least more prepared for an
-interview than before, and resolved to appear and to speak with
-calmness, if he really intended to meet them. For a few moments, indeed,
-she felt that he would probably strike into some other path. The idea
-lasted while a turning in the walk concealed him from their view; the
-turning past, he was immediately before them. With a glance she saw that
-he had lost none of his recent civility; and, to imitate his politeness,
-she began as they met to admire the beauty of the place; but she had not
-got beyond the words “delightful,” and “charming,” when some unlucky
-recollections obtruded, and she fancied that praise of Pemberley from
-her might be mischievously construed. Her colour changed, and she said
-no more.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Gardiner was standing a little behind; and on her pausing, he asked
-her if she would do him the honour of introducing him to her friends.
-This was a stroke of civility for which she was quite unprepared; and
-she could hardly suppress a smile at his being now seeking the
-acquaintance of some of those very people, against whom his pride had
-revolted, in his offer to herself. “What will be his surprise,” thought
-she, “when he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_313">{313}</a></span> knows who they are! He takes them now for people of
-fashion.”</p>
-
-<p>The introduction, however, was immediately made; and as she named their
-relationship to herself, she stole a sly look at him, to see how he bore
-it; and was not without the expectation of his decamping as fast as he
-could from such disgraceful companions. That he was <i>surprised</i> by the
-connection was evident: he sustained it, however, with fortitude: and,
-so far from going away, turned back with them, and entered into
-conversation with Mr. Gardiner. Elizabeth could not but be pleased,
-could not but triumph. It was consoling that he should know she had some
-relations for whom there was no need to blush. She listened most
-attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every
-expression, every sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence,
-his taste, or his good manners.</p>
-
-<p>The conversation soon turned upon fishing; and she heard Mr. Darcy
-invite him, with the greatest civility, to fish there as often as he
-chose, while he continued in the neighbourhood, offering at the same
-time to supply him with fishing tackle, and pointing out those parts of
-the stream where there was usually most sport. Mrs. Gardiner, who was
-walking arm in arm with Elizabeth, gave her a look expressive of her
-wonder. Elizabeth said nothing, but it gratified her exceedingly; the
-compliment must be all for herself. Her astonishment, however, was
-extreme; and continually was she repeating, “Why is he so altered? From
-what can it proceed? It cannot be for <i>me</i>, it cannot be for <i>my</i> sake
-that his manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not
-work such a change as this. It is impossible that he should still love
-me.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_314">{314}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>After walking some time in this way, the two ladies in front, the two
-gentlemen behind, on resuming their places, after descending to the
-brink of the river for the better inspection of some curious
-water-plant, there chanced to be a little alteration. It originated in
-Mrs. Gardiner, who, fatigued by the exercise of the morning, found
-Elizabeth’s arm inadequate to her support, and consequently preferred
-her husband’s. Mr. Darcy took her place by her niece, and they walked on
-together. After a short silence the lady first spoke. She wished him to
-know that she had been assured of his absence before she came to the
-place, and accordingly began by observing, that his arrival had been
-very unexpected—“for your housekeeper,” she added, “informed us that
-you would certainly not be here till to-morrow; and, indeed, before we
-left Bakewell, we understood that you were not immediately expected in
-the country.” He acknowledged the truth of it all; and said that
-business with his steward had occasioned his coming forward a few hours
-before the rest of the party with whom he had been travelling. “They
-will join me early to-morrow,” he continued, “and among them are some
-who will claim an acquaintance with you,—Mr. Bingley and his sisters.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth answered only by a slight bow. Her thoughts were instantly
-driven back to the time when Mr. Bingley’s name had been last mentioned
-between them; and if she might judge from his complexion, <i>his</i> mind was
-not very differently engaged.</p>
-
-<p>“There is also one other person in the party,” he continued after a
-pause, “who more particularly wishes to be known to you. Will you allow
-me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance
-during your stay at Lambton?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_315">{315}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>The surprise of such an application was great indeed; it was too great
-for her to know in what manner she acceded to it. She immediately felt
-that whatever desire Miss Darcy might have of being acquainted with her,
-must be the work of her brother, and without looking farther, it was
-satisfactory; it was gratifying to know that his resentment had not made
-him think really ill of her.</p>
-
-<p>They now walked on in silence; each of them deep in thought. Elizabeth
-was not comfortable; that was impossible; but she was flattered and
-pleased. His wish of introducing his sister to her was a compliment of
-the highest kind. They soon outstripped the others; and when they had
-reached the carriage, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were half a quarter of a
-mile behind.</p>
-
-<p>He then asked her to walk into the house—but she declared herself not
-tired, and they stood together on the lawn. At such a time much might
-have been said, and silence was very awkward. She wanted to talk, but
-there seemed an embargo on every subject. At last she recollected that
-she had been travelling, and they talked of Matlock and Dovedale with
-great perseverance. Yet time and her aunt moved slowly—and her patience
-and her ideas were nearly worn out before the <i>tête-à-tête</i> was over.</p>
-
-<p>On Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s coming up they were all pressed to go into
-the house and take some refreshment; but this was declined, and they
-parted on each side with the utmost politeness. Mr. Darcy handed the
-ladies into the carriage; and when it drove off, Elizabeth saw him
-walking slowly towards the house.</p>
-
-<p>The observations of her uncle and aunt now began; and each of them
-pronounced him to be infinitely superior to anything they had expected.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_316">{316}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“He is perfectly well-behaved, polite, and unassuming,” said her uncle.</p>
-
-<p>“There <i>is</i> something a little stately in him, to be sure,” replied her
-aunt; “but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming. I can now
-say with the housekeeper, that though some people may call him proud,
-<i>I</i> have seen nothing of it.”</p>
-
-<p>“I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. It was more
-than civil; it was really attentive; and there was no necessity for such
-attention. His acquaintance with Elizabeth was very trifling.”</p>
-
-<p>“To be sure, Lizzy,” said her aunt, “he is not so handsome as Wickham;
-or rather he has not Wickham’s countenance, for his features are
-perfectly good. But how came you to tell us that he was so
-disagreeable?”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth excused herself as well as she could: said that she had liked
-him better when they met in Kent than before, and that she had never
-seen him so pleasant as this morning.</p>
-
-<p>“But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities,” replied
-her uncle. “Your great men often are; and therefore I shall not take him
-at his word about fishing, as he might change his mind another day, and
-warn me off his grounds.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth felt that they had entirely mistaken his character, but said
-nothing.</p>
-
-<p>“From what we have seen of him,” continued Mrs. Gardiner, “I really
-should not have thought that he could have behaved in so cruel a way by
-anybody as he has done by poor Wickham. He has not an ill-natured look.
-On the contrary, there is something pleasing about his mouth when he
-speaks. And there is something of dignity in his countenance, that would
-not give one an<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_317">{317}</a></span> unfavourable idea of his heart. But, to be sure, the
-good lady who showed us the house did give him a most flaming character!
-I could hardly help laughing aloud sometimes. But he is a liberal
-master, I suppose, and <i>that</i>, in the eye of a servant, comprehends
-every virtue.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth here felt herself called on to say something in vindication of
-his behaviour to Wickham; and, therefore, gave them to understand, in as
-guarded a manner as she could, that by what she had heard from his
-relations in Kent, his actions were capable of a very different
-construction; and that his character was by no means so faulty, nor
-Wickham’s so amiable, as they had been considered in Hertfordshire. In
-confirmation of this, she related the particulars of all the pecuniary
-transactions in which they had been connected, without actually naming
-her authority, but stating it to be such as might be relied on.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Gardiner was surprised and concerned: but as they were now
-approaching the scene of her former pleasures, every idea gave way to
-the charm of recollection; and she was too much engaged in pointing out
-to her husband all the interesting spots in its environs, to think of
-anything else. Fatigued as she had been by the morning’s walk, they had
-no sooner dined than she set off again in quest of her former
-acquaintance, and the evening was spent in the satisfactions of an
-intercourse renewed after many years’ discontinuance.</p>
-
-<p>The occurrences of the day were too full of interest to leave Elizabeth
-much attention for any of these new friends; and she could do nothing
-but think, and think with wonder, of Mr. Darcy’s civility, and, above
-all, of his wishing her to be acquainted with his sister.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_318">{318}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a><img src="images/i_347_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XLIV.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_347_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="E"></span>LIZABETH had settled it that Mr. Darcy would bring his sister to visit
-her the very day after her reaching Pemberley; and was, consequently,
-resolved not to be out of sight of the inn the whole of that morning.
-But her conclusion was false; for on the very morning after their own
-arrival at Lambton these visitors came. They had been walking about the
-place with some of their new friends, and were just returned to the inn
-to dress themselves for dining with the same family, when the sound of a
-carriage drew them to a window, and they saw a gentleman and lady in a
-curricle driving up the street. Elizabeth, immediately recognizing the
-livery, guessed what it meant, and imparted no small degree of surprise
-to her relations, by acquainting them with the honour which she
-expected. Her<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_319">{319}</a></span> uncle and aunt were all amazement; and the embarrassment
-of her manner as she spoke, joined to the circumstance itself, and many
-of the circumstances of the preceding day, opened to them a new idea on
-the business. Nothing had ever suggested it before, but they now felt
-that there was no other way of accounting for such attentions from such
-a quarter than by supposing a partiality for their niece. While these
-newly-born notions were passing in their heads, the perturbation of
-Elizabeth’s feelings was every moment increasing. She was quite amazed
-at her own discomposure; but, amongst other causes of disquiet, she
-dreaded lest the partiality of the brother should have said too much in
-her favour; and, more than commonly anxious to please, she naturally
-suspected that every power of pleasing would fail her.</p>
-
-<p>She retreated from the window, fearful of being seen; and as she walked
-up and down the room, endeavouring to compose herself, saw such looks of
-inquiring surprise in her uncle and aunt as made everything worse.</p>
-
-<p>Miss Darcy and her brother appeared, and this formidable introduction
-took place. With astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new
-acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as herself. Since her
-being at Lambton, she had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud;
-but the observation of a very few minutes convinced her that she was
-only exceedingly shy. She found it difficult to obtain even a word from
-her beyond a monosyllable.</p>
-
-<p>Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth; and, though
-little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance
-womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother, but<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_320">{320}</a></span> there
-was sense and good-humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly
-unassuming and gentle. Elizabeth, who had expected to find in her as
-acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was much
-relieved by discerning such different feelings.</p>
-
-<p>They had not been long together before Darcy told her that Bingley was
-also coming to wait on her; and she had barely time to express her
-satisfaction, and prepare for such a visitor, when Bingley’s quick step
-was heard on the stairs, and in a moment he entered the room. All
-Elizabeth’s anger against him had been long done away; but had she still
-felt any, it could hardly have stood its ground against the unaffected
-cordiality with which he expressed himself on seeing her again. He
-inquired in a friendly, though general, way, after her family, and
-looked and spoke with the same good-humoured ease that he had ever done.</p>
-
-<p>To Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner he was scarcely a less interesting personage
-than to herself. They had long wished to see him. The whole party before
-them, indeed, excited a lively attention. The suspicions which had just
-arisen of Mr. Darcy and their niece, directed their observation towards
-each with an earnest, though guarded, inquiry; and they soon drew from
-those inquiries the full conviction that one of them at least knew what
-it was to love. Of the lady’s sensations they remained a little in
-doubt; but that the gentleman was overflowing with admiration was
-evident enough.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth, on her side, had much to do. She wanted to ascertain the
-feelings of each of her visitors, she wanted to compose her own, and to
-make herself agreeable to all; and in the latter object, where she
-feared most to fail, she was most sure of success, for those to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_321">{321}</a></span> whom
-she endeavoured to give pleasure were pre-possessed in her favour.
-Bingley was ready, Georgiana was eager, and Darcy determined, to be
-pleased.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
-<img src="images/i_350.jpg" width="550" height="538" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p>“To make herself agreeable to all”</p></div>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>In seeing Bingley, her thoughts naturally flew to her sister; and oh!
-how ardently did she long to know whether any of his were directed in a
-like manner. Sometimes she could fancy that he talked less than on
-former occasions, and once or twice pleased herself with the notion
-that, as he looked at her, he was trying to trace a resemblance. But,
-though this might be imaginary, she could not be deceived as to his
-behaviour<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_322">{322}</a></span> to Miss Darcy, who had been set up as a rival to Jane. No
-look appeared on either side that spoke particular regard. Nothing
-occurred between them that could justify the hopes of his sister. On
-this point she was soon satisfied; and two or three little circumstances
-occurred ere they parted, which, in her anxious interpretation, denoted
-a recollection of Jane, not untinctured by tenderness, and a wish of
-saying more that might lead to the mention of her, had he dared. He
-observed to her, at a moment when the others were talking together, and
-in a tone which had something of real regret, that it “was a very long
-time since he had had the pleasure of seeing her;” and, before she could
-reply, he added, “It is above eight months. We have not met since the
-26th of November, when we were all dancing together at Netherfield.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was pleased to find his memory so exact; and he afterwards
-took occasion to ask her, when unattended to by any of the rest, whether
-<i>all</i> her sisters were at Longbourn. There was not much in the question,
-nor in the preceding remark; but there was a look and a manner which
-gave them meaning.</p>
-
-<p>It was not often that she could turn her eyes on Mr. Darcy himself; but
-whenever she did catch a glimpse she saw an expression of general
-complaisance, and in all that he said, she heard an accent so far
-removed from <i>hauteur</i> or disdain of his companions, as convinced her
-that the improvement of manners which she had yesterday witnessed,
-however temporary its existence might prove, had at least outlived one
-day. When she saw him thus seeking the acquaintance, and courting the
-good opinion of people with whom any intercourse a few months ago would
-have been a disgrace; when she saw<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_323">{323}</a></span> him thus civil, not only to herself,
-but to the very relations whom he had openly disdained, and recollected
-their last lively scene in Hunsford Parsonage, the difference, the
-change was so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could
-hardly restrain her astonishment from being visible. Never, even in the
-company of his dear friends at Netherfield, or his dignified relations
-at Rosings, had she seen him so desirous to please, so free from
-self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no importance could
-result from the success of his endeavours, and when even the
-acquaintance of those to whom his attentions were addressed, would draw
-down the ridicule and censure of the ladies both of Netherfield and
-Rosings.</p>
-
-<p>Their visitors stayed with them above half an hour; and when they arose
-to depart, Mr. Darcy called on his sister to join him in expressing
-their wish of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and Miss Bennet, to dinner
-at Pemberley, before they left the country. Miss Darcy, though with a
-diffidence which marked her little in the habit of giving invitations,
-readily obeyed. Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece, desirous of knowing
-how <i>she</i>, whom the invitation most concerned, felt disposed as to its
-acceptance, but Elizabeth had turned away her head. Presuming, however,
-that this studied avoidance spoke rather a momentary embarrassment than
-any dislike of the proposal, and seeing in her husband, who was fond of
-society, a perfect willingness to accept it, she ventured to engage for
-her attendance, and the day after the next was fixed on.</p>
-
-<p>Bingley expressed great pleasure in the certainty of seeing Elizabeth
-again, having still a great deal to say to her, and many inquiries to
-make after all their Hertfordshire friends. Elizabeth, construing all
-this into a wish<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_324">{324}</a></span> of hearing her speak of her sister, was pleased; and
-on this account, as well as some others, found herself, when their
-visitors left them, capable of considering the last half hour with some
-satisfaction, though while it was passing the enjoyment of it had been
-little. Eager to be alone, and fearful of inquiries or hints from her
-uncle and aunt, she stayed with them only long enough to hear their
-favourable opinion of Bingley, and then hurried away to dress.</p>
-
-<p>But she had no reason to fear Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s curiosity; it was
-not their wish to force her communication. It was evident that she was
-much better acquainted with Mr. Darcy than they had before any idea of;
-it was evident that he was very much in love with her. They saw much to
-interest, but nothing to justify inquiry.</p>
-
-<p>Of Mr. Darcy it was now a matter of anxiety to think well; and, as far
-as their acquaintance reached, there was no fault to find. They could
-not be untouched by his politeness; and had they drawn his character
-from their own feelings and his servant’s report, without any reference
-to any other account, the circle in Hertfordshire to which he was known
-would not have recognized it for Mr. Darcy. There was now an interest,
-however, in believing the housekeeper; and they soon became sensible
-that the authority of a servant, who had known him since he was four
-years old, and whose own manners indicated respectability, was not to be
-hastily rejected. Neither had anything occurred in the intelligence of
-their Lambton friends that could materially lessen its weight. They had
-nothing to accuse him of but pride; pride he probably had, and if not,
-it would certainly be imputed by the inhabitants of a small market town<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_325">{325}</a></span>
-where the family did not visit. It was acknowledged, however, that he
-was a liberal man, and did much good among the poor.</p>
-
-<p>With respect to Wickham, the travellers soon found that he was not held
-there in much estimation; for though the chief of his concerns with the
-son of his patron were imperfectly understood, it was yet a well-known
-fact that, on his quitting Derbyshire, he had left many debts behind
-him, which Mr. Darcy afterwards discharged.</p>
-
-<p>As for Elizabeth, her thoughts were at Pemberley this evening more than
-the last; and the evening, though as it passed it seemed long, was not
-long enough to determine her feelings towards <i>one</i> in that mansion; and
-she lay awake two whole hours, endeavouring to make them out. She
-certainly did not hate him. No; hatred had vanished long ago, and she
-had almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against him,
-that could be so called. The respect created by the conviction of his
-valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some
-time ceased to be repugnant to her feelings; and it was now heightened
-into somewhat of a friendlier nature by the testimony so highly in his
-favour, and bringing forward his disposition in so amiable a light,
-which yesterday had produced. But above all, above respect and esteem,
-there was a motive within her of good-will which could not be
-overlooked. It was gratitude;—gratitude, not merely for having once
-loved her, but for loving her still well enough to forgive all the
-petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and all the
-unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. He who, she had been
-persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy, seemed, on this
-accidental<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_326">{326}</a></span> meeting, most eager to preserve the acquaintance; and
-without any indelicate display of regard, or any peculiarity of manner,
-where their two selves only were concerned, was soliciting the good
-opinion of her friends, and bent on making her known to his sister. Such
-a change in a man of so much pride excited not only astonishment but
-gratitude—for to love, ardent love, it must be attributed; and, as
-such, its impression on her was of a sort to be encouraged, as by no
-means unpleasing, though it could not be exactly defined. She respected,
-she esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt a real interest in his
-welfare; and she only wanted to know how far she wished that welfare to
-depend upon herself, and how far it would be for the happiness of both
-that she should employ the power, which her fancy told her she still
-possessed, of bringing on the renewal of his addresses.</p>
-
-<p>It had been settled in the evening, between the aunt and niece, that
-such a striking civility as Miss Darcy’s, in coming to them on the very
-day of her arrival at Pemberley—for she had reached it only to a late
-breakfast—ought to be imitated, though it could not be equalled, by
-some exertion of politeness on their side; and, consequently, that it
-would be highly expedient to wait on her at Pemberley the following
-morning. They were, therefore, to go. Elizabeth was pleased; though when
-she asked herself the reason, she had very little to say in reply.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Gardiner left them soon after breakfast. The fishing scheme had been
-renewed the day before, and a positive engagement made of his meeting
-some of the gentlemen at Pemberley by noon.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_327">{327}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a><img src="images/i_356_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“Engaged by the river.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XLV.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_356_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="C"></span>ONVINCED as Elizabeth now was that Miss Bingley’s dislike of her had
-originated in jealousy, she could not help feeling how very unwelcome
-her appearance at Pemberley must be to her, and was curious to know
-with<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_328">{328}</a></span> how much civility on that lady’s side the acquaintance would now
-be renewed.</p>
-
-<p>On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into the saloon,
-whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for summer. Its windows,
-opening to the ground, admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody
-hills behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts
-which were scattered over the intermediate lawn.</p>
-
-<p>In this room they were received by Miss Darcy, who was sitting there
-with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and the lady with whom she lived in
-London. Georgiana’s reception of them was very civil, but attended with
-all that embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness and the
-fear of doing wrong, would easily give to those who felt themselves
-inferior the belief of her being proud and reserved. Mrs. Gardiner and
-her niece, however, did her justice, and pitied her.</p>
-
-<p>By Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley they were noticed only by a courtesy; and
-on their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always be,
-succeeded for a few moments. It was first broken by Mrs. Annesley, a
-genteel, agreeable-looking woman, whose endeavour to introduce some kind
-of discourse proved her to be more truly well-bred than either of the
-others; and between her and Mrs. Gardiner, with occasional help from
-Elizabeth, the conversation was carried on. Miss Darcy looked as if she
-wished for courage enough to join in it; and sometimes did venture a
-short sentence, when there was least danger of its being heard.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely watched by Miss Bingley,
-and that she could not speak a word, especially to Miss Darcy, without
-calling her attention.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_329">{329}</a></span> This observation would not have prevented her
-from trying to talk to the latter, had they not been seated at an
-inconvenient distance; but she was not sorry to be spared the necessity
-of saying much: her own thoughts were employing her. She expected every
-moment that some of the gentlemen would enter the room: she wished, she
-feared, that the master of the house might be amongst them; and whether
-she wished or feared it most, she could scarcely determine. After
-sitting in this manner a quarter of an hour, without hearing Miss
-Bingley’s voice, Elizabeth was roused by receiving from her a cold
-inquiry after the health of her family. She answered with equal
-indifference and brevity, and the other said no more.</p>
-
-<p>The next variation which their visit afforded was produced by the
-entrance of servants with cold meat, cake, and a variety of all the
-finest fruits in season; but this did not take place till after many a
-significant look and smile from Mrs. Annesley to Miss Darcy had been
-given, to remind her of her post. There was now employment for the whole
-party; for though they could not all talk, they could all eat; and the
-beautiful pyramids of grapes, nectarines, and peaches, soon collected
-them round the table.</p>
-
-<p>While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity of deciding whether
-she most feared or wished for the appearance of Mr. Darcy, by the
-feelings which prevailed on his entering the room; and then, though but
-a moment before she had believed her wishes to predominate, she began to
-regret that he came.</p>
-
-<p>He had been some time with Mr. Gardiner, who, with two or three other
-gentlemen from the house, was engaged by the river; and had left him
-only on learning<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_330">{330}</a></span> that the ladies of the family intended a visit to
-Georgiana that morning. No sooner did he appear, than Elizabeth wisely
-resolved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed;—a resolution the more
-necessary to be made, but perhaps not the more easily kept, because she
-saw that the suspicions of the whole party were awakened against them,
-and that there was scarcely an eye which did not watch his behaviour
-when he first came into the room. In no countenance was attentive
-curiosity so strongly marked as in Miss Bingley’s, in spite of the
-smiles which overspread her face whenever she spoke to one of its
-objects; for jealousy had not yet made her desperate, and her attentions
-to Mr. Darcy were by no means over. Miss Darcy, on her brother’s
-entrance, exerted herself much more to talk; and Elizabeth saw that he
-was anxious for his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded,
-as much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side. Miss
-Bingley saw all this likewise; and, in the imprudence of anger, took the
-first opportunity of saying, with sneering civility,—</p>
-
-<p>“Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the ——shire militia removed from Meryton?
-They must be a great loss to <i>your</i> family.”</p>
-
-<p>In Darcy’s presence she dared not mention Wickham’s name: but Elizabeth
-instantly comprehended that he was uppermost in her thoughts; and the
-various recollections connected with him gave her a moment’s distress;
-but, exerting herself vigorously to repel the ill-natured attack, she
-presently answered the question in a tolerably disengaged tone. While
-she spoke, an involuntary glance showed her Darcy with a heightened
-complexion, earnestly looking at her, and his sister overcome with
-confusion, and unable to lift up her eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_331">{331}</a></span> Had Miss Bingley known what
-pain she was then giving her beloved friend, she undoubtedly would have
-refrained from the hint; but she had merely intended to discompose
-Elizabeth, by bringing forward the idea of a man to whom she believed
-her partial, to make her betray a sensibility which might injure her in
-Darcy’s opinion, and, perhaps, to remind the latter of all the follies
-and absurdities by which some part of her family were connected with
-that corps. Not a syllable had ever reached her of Miss Darcy’s
-meditated elopement. To no creature had it been revealed, where secrecy
-was possible, except to Elizabeth; and from all Bingley’s connections
-her brother was particularly anxious to conceal it, from that very wish
-which Elizabeth had long ago attributed to him, of their becoming
-hereafter her own. He had certainly formed such a plan; and without
-meaning that it should affect his endeavour to separate him from Miss
-Bennet, it is probable that it might add something to his lively concern
-for the welfare of his friend.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth’s collected behaviour, however, soon quieted his emotion; and
-as Miss Bingley, vexed and disappointed, dared not approach nearer to
-Wickham, Georgiana also recovered in time, though not enough to be able
-to speak any more. Her brother, whose eye she feared to meet, scarcely
-recollected her interest in the affair; and the very circumstance which
-had been designed to turn his thoughts from Elizabeth, seemed to have
-fixed them on her more and more cheerfully.</p>
-
-<p>Their visit did not continue long after the question and answer above
-mentioned; and while Mr. Darcy was attending them to their carriage,
-Miss Bingley was venting her feelings in criticisms on Elizabet<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_332">{332}</a></span>h’s
-person, behaviour, and dress. But Georgiana would not join her. Her
-brother’s recommendation was enough to insure her favour: his judgment
-could not err; and he had spoken in such terms of Elizabeth, as to leave
-Georgiana without the power of finding her otherwise than lovely and
-amiable. When Darcy returned to the saloon, Miss Bingley could not help
-repeating to him some part of what she had been saying to his sister.</p>
-
-<p>“How very ill Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy,” she cried: “I
-never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she is since the winter.
-She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we
-should not have known her again.”</p>
-
-<p>However little Mr. Darcy might have liked such an address, he contented
-himself with coolly replying, that he perceived no other alteration than
-her being rather tanned,—no miraculous consequence of travelling in the
-summer.</p>
-
-<p>“For my own part,” she rejoined, “I must confess that I never could see
-any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no
-brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants
-character; there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are
-tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which
-have sometimes been called so fine, I never could perceive anything
-extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not
-like at all; and in her air altogether, there is a self-sufficiency
-without fashion, which is intolerable.”</p>
-
-<p>Persuaded as Miss Bingley was that Darcy admired Elizabeth, this was not
-the best method of recommending herself; but angry people are not always
-wise; and in seeing him at last look somewhat nettled, she had all<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_333">{333}</a></span> the
-success she expected. He was resolutely silent, however; and, from a
-determination of making him speak, she continued,—</p>
-
-<p>“I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all
-were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect
-your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, ‘<i>She</i>
-a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit.’ But afterwards she
-seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at
-one time.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” replied Darcy, who could contain himself no longer, “but <i>that</i>
-was only when I first knew her; for it is many months since I have
-considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.”</p>
-
-<p>He then went away, and Miss Bingley was left to all the satisfaction of
-having forced him to say what gave no one any pain but herself.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth talked of all that had occurred during their
-visit, as they returned, except what had particularly interested them
-both. The looks and behaviour of everybody they had seen were discussed,
-except of the person who had mostly engaged their attention. They talked
-of his sister, his friends, his house, his fruit, of everything but
-himself; yet Elizabeth was longing to know what Mrs. Gardiner thought of
-him, and Mrs. Gardiner would have been highly gratified by her niece’s
-beginning the subject.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_334">{334}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a><img src="images/i_363_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>Chapter XLVI.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind">
-<span class="letra"><img src="images/i_363_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="E"></span>LIZABETH had been a good deal disappointed in not finding a letter from
-Jane on their first arrival at Lambton; and this disappointment had been
-renewed on each of the mornings that had now been spent there; but on
-the third her repining was over, and her sister justified, by the
-receipt of two letters from her at once, on one of which was marked that
-it had been mis-sent elsewhere. Elizabeth was not surprised at it, as
-Jane had written the direction remarkably ill.</p>
-
-<p>They had just been preparing to walk as the letters came in; and her
-uncle and aunt, leaving her to enjoy them in quiet, set off by
-themselves. The one mis-sent must be first attended to; it had been
-written five days ago. The beginning contained an account of all their
-little parties and engagements, with such news as the country afforded;
-but the latter half, which was dated a day later, and written in evident
-agitation, gave more important intelligence. It was to this effect:—</p>
-
-<p>“Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has occurred of a
-most unexpected and serious nature; but I am afraid of alarming you—be
-assured that we are all<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_335">{335}</a></span> well. What I have to say relates to poor Lydia.
-An express came at twelve last night, just as we were all gone to bed,
-from Colonel Forster, to inform us that she was gone off to Scotland
-with one of his officers; to own the truth, with Wickham! Imagine our
-surprise. To Kitty, however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. I am
-very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both sides! But I am willing
-to hope the best, and that his character has been misunderstood.
-Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe him, but this step (and
-let us rejoice over it) marks nothing bad at heart. His choice is
-disinterested at least, for he must know my father can give her nothing.
-Our poor mother is sadly grieved. My father bears it better. How
-thankful am I, that we never let them know what has been said against
-him; we must forget it ourselves. They were off Saturday night about
-twelve, as is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning at
-eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they must have
-passed within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives us reason to expect
-him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for his wife, informing her of
-their intention. I must conclude, for I cannot be long from my poor
-mother. I am afraid you will not be able to make it out, but I hardly
-know what I have written.”</p>
-
-<p>Without allowing herself time for consideration, and scarcely knowing
-what she felt, Elizabeth, on finishing this letter, instantly seized the
-other, and opening it with the utmost impatience, read as follows: it
-had been written a day later than the conclusion of the first.</p>
-
-<p>“By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried letter; I
-wish this may be more intelligible, but though not confined for time, my
-head is so bewildered that I cannot answer for being coherent. Dearest
-Lizzy,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_336">{336}</a></span> I hardly know what I would write, but I have bad news for you,
-and it cannot be delayed. Imprudent as a marriage between Mr. Wickham
-and our poor Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured it has
-taken place, for there is but too much reason to fear they are not gone
-to Scotland. Colonel Forster came yesterday, having left Brighton the
-day before, not many hours after the express. Though Lydia’s short
-letter to Mrs. F. gave them to understand that they were going to Gretna
-Green, something was dropped by Denny expressing his belief that W.
-never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all, which was repeated
-to Colonel F., who, instantly taking the alarm, set off from B.,
-intending to trace their route. He did trace them easily to Clapham, but
-no farther; for on entering that place, they removed into a
-hackney-coach, and dismissed the chaise that brought them from Epsom.
-All that is known after this is, that they were seen to continue the
-London road. I know not what to think. After making every possible
-inquiry on that side of London, Colonel F. came on into Hertfordshire,
-anxiously renewing them at all the turnpikes, and at the inns in Barnet
-and Hatfield, but without any success,—no such people had been seen to
-pass through. With the kindest concern he came on to Longbourn, and
-broke his apprehensions to us in a manner most creditable to his heart.
-I am sincerely grieved for him and Mrs. F.; but no one can throw any
-blame on them. Our distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. My father and
-mother believe the worst, but I cannot think so ill of him. Many
-circumstances might make it more eligible for them to be married
-privately in town than to pursue their first plan; and even if <i>he</i>
-could form such a design against a young woman of Lydi<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_337">{337}</a></span>a’s connections,
-which is not likely, can I suppose her so lost to everything?
-Impossible! I grieve to find, however, that Colonel F. is not disposed
-to depend upon their marriage: he shook his head when I expressed my
-hopes, and said he feared W. was not a man to be trusted. My poor mother
-is really ill, and keeps her room. Could she exert herself, it would be
-better, but this is not to be expected; and as to my father, I never in
-my life saw him so affected. Poor Kitty has anger for having concealed
-their attachment; but as it was a matter of confidence, one cannot
-wonder. I am truly glad, dearest Lizzy, that you have been spared
-something of these distressing scenes; but now, as the first shock is
-over, shall I own that I long for your return? I am not so selfish,
-however, as to press for it, if inconvenient. Adieu! I take up my pen
-again to do, what I have just told you I would not; but circumstances
-are such, that I cannot help earnestly begging you all to come here as
-soon as possible. I know my dear uncle and aunt so well, that I am not
-afraid of requesting it, though I have still something more to ask of
-the former. My father is going to London with Colonel Forster instantly,
-to try to discover her. What he means to do, I am sure I know not; but
-his excessive distress will not allow him to pursue any measure in the
-best and safest way, and Colonel Forster is obliged to be at Brighton
-again to-morrow evening. In such an exigence my uncle’s advice and
-assistance would be everything in the world; he will immediately
-comprehend what I must feel, and I rely upon his goodness.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh! where, where is my uncle?” cried Elizabeth, darting from her seat
-as she finished the letter, in eagerness to follow him, without losing a
-moment of the time so precious; but as she reached the door, it was
-opened<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_338">{338}</a></span> by a servant, and Mr. Darcy appeared. Her pale face and
-impetuous manner made him start, and before he could recover himself
-enough to speak, she, in whose mind every idea was superseded by Lydia’s
-situation, hastily exclaimed, “I beg your pardon, but I must leave you.
-I must find Mr. Gardiner this moment on business that cannot be delayed;
-I have not an instant to lose.”</p>
-
-<p>“Good God! what is the matter?” cried he, with more feeling than
-politeness; then recollecting himself, “I will not detain you a minute;
-but let me, or let the servant, go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. You are
-not well enough; you cannot go yourself.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth hesitated; but her knees trembled under her, and she felt how
-little would be gained by her attempting to pursue them. Calling back
-the servant, therefore, she commissioned him, though in so breathless an
-accent as made her almost unintelligible, to fetch his master and
-mistress home instantly.</p>
-
-<p>On his quitting the room, she sat down, unable to support herself, and
-looking so miserably ill, that it was impossible for Darcy to leave her,
-or to refrain from saying, in a tone of gentleness and commiseration,
-“Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take to give you
-present relief? A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I thank you,” she replied, endeavouring to recover herself. “There
-is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well, I am only distressed by
-some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn.”</p>
-
-<p>She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a few minutes could
-not speak another word. Darcy, in wretched suspense, could only say
-something indistinctly of his<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_339">{339}</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 442px;">
-<img src="images/i_368.jpg" width="442" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-<p>“I have not an instant to lose”</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="nind">concern, and observe her in compassionate silence. At length she spoke
-again. “I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It
-cannot be concealed from anyone. My youngest sister has left all her
-friends—has eloped; has thrown herself into the power of—of Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_340">{340}</a></span>
-Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. <i>You</i> know him too
-well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that
-can tempt him to—she is lost for ever.”</p>
-
-<p>Darcy was fixed in astonishment.</p>
-
-<p>“When I consider,” she added, in a yet more agitated voice, “that <i>I</i>
-might have prevented it! <i>I</i> who knew what he was. Had I but explained
-some part of it only—some part of what I learnt, to my own family! Had
-his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all,
-all too late now.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am grieved, indeed,” cried Darcy: “grieved—shocked. But is it
-certain, absolutely certain?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes! They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced
-almost to London, but not beyond: they are certainly not gone to
-Scotland.”</p>
-
-<p>“And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?”</p>
-
-<p>“My father has gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle’s
-immediate assistance, and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour. But
-nothing can be done; I know very well that nothing can be done. How is
-such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have
-not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!”</p>
-
-<p>Darcy shook his head in silent acquiescence.</p>
-
-<p>“When <i>my</i> eyes were opened to his real character, oh! had I known what
-I ought, what I dared to do! But I knew not—I was afraid of doing too
-much. Wretched, wretched mistake!”</p>
-
-<p>Darcy made no answer. He seemed scarcely to hear her, and was walking up
-and down the room in earnest meditation; his brow contracted, his air
-gloomy.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_341">{341}</a></span> Elizabeth soon observed, and instantly understood it. Her power
-was sinking; everything <i>must</i> sink under such a proof of family
-weakness, such an assurance of the deepest disgrace. She could neither
-wonder nor condemn; but the belief of his self-conquest brought nothing
-consolatory to her bosom, afforded no palliation of her distress. It
-was, on the contrary, exactly calculated to make her understand her own
-wishes; and never had she so honestly felt that she could have loved
-him, as now, when all love must be vain.</p>
-
-<p>But self, though it would intrude, could not engross her. Lydia—the
-humiliation, the misery she was bringing on them all—soon swallowed up
-every private care; and covering her face with her handkerchief,
-Elizabeth was soon lost to everything else; and, after a pause of
-several minutes, was only recalled to a sense of her situation by the
-voice of her companion, who, in a manner which, though it spoke
-compassion, spoke likewise restraint, said,—</p>
-
-<p>“I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything
-to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing concern.
-Would to Heaven that anything could be either said or done on my part,
-that might offer consolation to such distress! But I will not torment
-you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks.
-This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister’s having the
-pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley to-day.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes! Be so kind as to apologize for us to Miss Darcy. Say that
-urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as
-long as it is possible. I know it cannot be long.”</p>
-
-<p>He readily assured her of his secrecy, again expressed<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_342">{342}</a></span> his sorrow for
-her distress, wished it a happier conclusion than there was at present
-reason to hope, and, leaving his compliments for her relations, with
-only one serious parting look, went away.</p>
-
-<p>As he quitted the room, Elizabeth felt how improbable it was that they
-should ever see each other again on such terms of cordiality as had
-marked their several meetings in Derbyshire; and as she threw a
-retrospective glance over the whole of their acquaintance, so full of
-contradictions and varieties, sighed at the perverseness of those
-feelings which would now have promoted its continuance, and would
-formerly have rejoiced in its termination.</p>
-
-<p>If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection, Elizabeth’s
-change of sentiment will be neither improbable nor faulty. But if
-otherwise, if the regard springing from such sources is unreasonable or
-unnatural, in comparison of what is so often described as arising on a
-first interview with its object, and even before two words have been
-exchanged, nothing can be said in her defence, except that she had given
-somewhat of a trial to the latter method, in her partiality for Wickham,
-and that its ill success might, perhaps, authorize her to seek the other
-less interesting mode of attachment. Be that as it may, she saw him go
-with regret; and in this early example of what Lydia’s infamy must
-produce, found additional anguish as she reflected on that wretched
-business. Never since reading Jane’s second letter had she entertained a
-hope of Wickham’s meaning to marry her. No one but Jane, she thought,
-could flatter herself with such an expectation. Surprise was the least
-of all her feelings on this development. While the contents of the first
-letter remained on her mind, she was all surprise,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_343">{343}</a></span> all astonishment,
-that Wickham should marry a girl whom it was impossible he could marry
-for money; and how Lydia could ever have attached him had appeared
-incomprehensible. But now it was all too natural. For such an attachment
-as this, she might have sufficient charms; and though she did not
-suppose Lydia to be deliberately engaging in an elopement, without the
-intention of marriage, she had no difficulty in believing that neither
-her virtue nor her understanding would preserve her from falling an easy
-prey.</p>
-
-<p>She had never perceived, while the regiment was in Hertfordshire, that
-Lydia had any partiality for him; but she was convinced that Lydia had
-wanted only encouragement to attach herself to anybody. Sometimes one
-officer, sometimes another, had been her favourite, as their attentions
-raised them in her opinion. Her affections had been continually
-fluctuating, but never without an object. The mischief of neglect and
-mistaken indulgence towards such a girl—oh! how acutely did she now
-feel it!</p>
-
-<p>She was wild to be at home—to hear, to see, to be upon the spot to
-share with Jane in the cares that must now fall wholly upon her, in a
-family so deranged; a father absent, a mother incapable of exertion, and
-requiring constant attendance; and though almost persuaded that nothing
-could be done for Lydia, her uncle’s interference seemed of the utmost
-importance, and till he entered the room the misery of her impatience
-was severe. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had hurried back in alarm, supposing,
-by the servant’s account, that their niece was taken suddenly ill; but
-satisfying them instantly on that head, she eagerly communicated the
-cause of their summons, reading the two letters aloud,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_344">{344}</a></span> and dwelling on
-the postscript of the last with trembling energy. Though Lydia had never
-been a favourite with them, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner could not but be
-deeply affected. Not Lydia only, but all were concerned in it; and after
-the first exclamations of surprise and horror, Mr. Gardiner readily
-promised every assistance in his power. Elizabeth, though expecting no
-less, thanked him with tears of gratitude; and all three being actuated
-by one spirit, everything relating to their journey was speedily
-settled. They were to be off as soon as possible. “But what is to be
-done about Pemberley?” cried Mrs. Gardiner. “John told us Mr. Darcy was
-here when you sent for us;—was it so?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; and I told him we should not be able to keep our engagement.
-<i>That</i> is all settled.”</p>
-
-<p>“What is all settled?” repeated the other, as she ran into her room to
-prepare. “And are they upon such terms as for her to disclose the real
-truth? Oh, that I knew how it was!”</p>
-
-<p>But wishes were vain; or, at best, could serve only to amuse her in the
-hurry and confusion of the following hour. Had Elizabeth been at leisure
-to be idle, she would have remained certain that all employment was
-impossible to one so wretched as herself; but she had her share of
-business as well as her aunt, and amongst the rest there were notes to
-be written to all their friends at Lambton, with false excuses for their
-sudden departure. An hour, however, saw the whole completed; and Mr.
-Gardiner, meanwhile, having settled his account at the inn, nothing
-remained to be done but to go; and Elizabeth, after all the misery of
-the morning, found herself, in a shorter space of time than she could
-have supposed, seated in the carriage, and on the road to Longbourn.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_345">{345}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XLVII"></a><img src="images/i_374_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“The first pleasing earnest of their welcome.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XLVII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-“<img src="images/i_374_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="I"></span> HAVE been thinking it over again, Elizabeth,” said her uncle, as they
-drove from the town; “and really, upon serious consideration, I am much
-more inclined than I was to judge as your eldest sister does of the
-matter. It appears to me so very unlikely that any young man should form
-such a design against a girl who is by no means unprotected or
-friendless, and who was actually staying in his Colonel’s family, that I
-am strongly inclined to hope the best. Could he expect that her friends
-would not step forward? Could he expect to be noticed again by the
-regiment, after such an affront to Colonel Forster? His temptation is
-not adequate to the risk.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_346">{346}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you really think so?” cried Elizabeth, brightening up for a moment.</p>
-
-<p>“Upon my word,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “I begin to be of your uncle’s
-opinion. It is really too great a violation of decency, honour, and
-interest, for him to be guilty of it. I cannot think so very ill of
-Wickham. Can you, yourself, Lizzie, so wholly give him up, as to believe
-him capable of it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not perhaps of neglecting his own interest. But of every other neglect
-I can believe him capable. If, indeed, it should be so! But I dare not
-hope it. Why should they not go on to Scotland, if that had been the
-case?”</p>
-
-<p>“In the first place,” replied Mr. Gardiner, “there is no absolute proof
-that they are not gone to Scotland.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, but their removing from the chaise into a hackney coach is such a
-presumption! And, besides, no traces of them were to be found on the
-Barnet road.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, then,—supposing them to be in London—they may be there, though
-for the purpose of concealment, for no more exceptionable purpose. It is
-not likely that money should be very abundant on either side; and it
-might strike them that they could be more economically, though less
-expeditiously, married in London, than in Scotland.”</p>
-
-<p>“But why all this secrecy? Why any fear of detection? Why must their
-marriage be private? Oh, no, no—this is not likely. His most particular
-friend, you see by Jane’s account, was persuaded of his never intending
-to marry her. Wickham will never marry a woman without some money. He
-cannot afford it. And what claims has Lydia, what attractions has she
-beyond youth, health, and good humour, that could make him for her sake<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_347">{347}</a></span>
-forego every chance of benefiting himself by marrying well? As to what
-restraint the apprehensions of disgrace in the corps might throw on a
-dishonourable elopement with her, I am not able to judge; for I know
-nothing of the effects that such a step might produce. But as to your
-other objection, I am afraid it will hardly hold good. Lydia has no
-brothers to step forward; and he might imagine, from my father’s
-behaviour, from his indolence and the little attention he has ever
-seemed to give to what was going forward in his family, that <i>he</i> would
-do as little and think as little about it, as any father could do, in
-such a matter.”</p>
-
-<p>“But can you think that Lydia is so lost to everything but love of him,
-as to consent to live with him on any other terms than marriage?”</p>
-
-<p>“It does seem, and it is most shocking, indeed,” replied Elizabeth, with
-tears in her eyes, “that a sister’s sense of decency and virtue in such
-a point should admit of doubt. But, really, I know not what to say.
-Perhaps I am not doing her justice. But she is very young: she has never
-been taught to think on serious subjects; and for the last half year,
-nay, for a twelvemonth, she has been given up to nothing but amusement
-and vanity. She has been allowed to dispose of her time in the most idle
-and frivolous manner, and to adopt any opinions that came in her way.
-Since the ——shire were first quartered in Meryton, nothing but love,
-flirtation, and officers, have been in her head. She has been doing
-everything in her power, by thinking and talking on the subject, to give
-greater—what shall I call it?—susceptibility to her feelings; which
-are naturally lively enough. And we all know that Wickham has every
-charm of person and address that can captivate a woman.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_348">{348}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“But you see that Jane,” said her aunt, “does not think so ill of
-Wickham, as to believe him capable of the attempt.”</p>
-
-<p>“Of whom does Jane ever think ill? And who is there, whatever might be
-their former conduct, that she would believe capable of such an attempt,
-till it were proved against them? But Jane knows, as well as I do, what
-Wickham really is. We both know that he has been profligate in every
-sense of the word; that he has neither integrity nor honour; that he is
-as false and deceitful as he is insinuating.”</p>
-
-<p>“And do you really know all this?” cried Mrs. Gardiner, whose curiosity
-as to the mode of her intelligence was all alive.</p>
-
-<p>“I do, indeed,” replied Elizabeth, colouring. “I told you the other day
-of his infamous behaviour to Mr. Darcy; and you, yourself, when last at
-Longbourn, heard in what manner he spoke of the man who had behaved with
-such forbearance and liberality towards him. And there are other
-circumstances which I am not at liberty—which it is not worth while to
-relate; but his lies about the whole Pemberley family are endless. From
-what he said of Miss Darcy, I was thoroughly prepared to see a proud,
-reserved, disagreeable girl. Yet he knew to the contrary himself. He
-must know that she was as amiable and unpretending as we have found
-her.”</p>
-
-<p>“But does Lydia know nothing of this? can she be ignorant of what you
-and Jane seem so well to understand?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes!—that, that is the worst of all. Till I was in Kent, and saw
-so much both of Mr. Darcy and his relation Colonel Fitzwilliam, I was
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_349">{349}</a></span>ignorant of the truth myself. And when I returned home the ——shire
-was to leave Meryton in a week or fortnight’s time. As that was the
-case, neither Jane, to whom I related the whole, nor I, thought it
-necessary to make our knowledge public; for of what use could it
-apparently be to anyone, that the good opinion, which all the
-neighbourhood had of him, should then be overthrown? And even when it
-was settled that Lydia should go with Mrs. Forster, the necessity of
-opening her eyes to his character never occurred to me. That <i>she</i> could
-be in any danger from the deception never entered my head. That such a
-consequence as <i>this</i> should ensue, you may easily believe was far
-enough from my thoughts.”</p>
-
-<p>“When they all removed to Brighton, therefore, you had no reason, I
-suppose, to believe them fond of each other?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not the slightest. I can remember no symptom of affection on either
-side; and had anything of the kind been perceptible, you must be aware
-that ours is not a family on which it could be thrown away. When first
-he entered the corps, she was ready enough to admire him; but so we all
-were. Every girl in or near Meryton was out of her senses about him for
-the first two months: but he never distinguished <i>her</i> by any particular
-attention; and, consequently, after a moderate period of extravagant and
-wild admiration, her fancy for him gave way, and others of the regiment,
-who treated her with more distinction, again became her favourites.”</p>
-
-<p>It may be easily believed, that however little of novelty could be added
-to their fears, hopes, and conjectures, on this interesting subject by
-its repeated discussion, no other could detain them from it long, during
-the whole of the journey. From Elizabeth’s thoughts it was never absent.
-Fixed there by the keenest of all anguish,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_350">{350}</a></span> self-reproach, she could
-find no interval of ease or forgetfulness.</p>
-
-<p>They travelled as expeditiously as possible; and sleeping one night on
-the road, reached Longbourn by dinnertime the next day. It was a comfort
-to Elizabeth to consider that Jane could not have been wearied by long
-expectations.</p>
-
-<p>The little Gardiners, attracted by the sight of a chaise, were standing
-on the steps of the house, as they entered the paddock; and when the
-carriage drove up to the door, the joyful surprise that lighted up their
-faces and displayed itself over their whole bodies, in a variety of
-capers and frisks, was the first pleasing earnest of their welcome.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth jumped out; and after giving each of them a hasty kiss,
-hurried into the vestibule, where Jane, who came running downstairs from
-her mother’s apartment, immediately met her.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth, as she affectionately embraced her, whilst tears filled the
-eyes of both, lost not a moment in asking whether anything had been
-heard of the fugitives.</p>
-
-<p>“Not yet,” replied Jane. “But now that my dear uncle is come, I hope
-everything will be well.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is my father in town?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, he went on Tuesday, as I wrote you word.”</p>
-
-<p>“And have you heard from him often?”</p>
-
-<p>“We have heard only once. He wrote me a few lines on Wednesday, to say
-that he had arrived in safety, and to give me his directions, which I
-particularly begged him to do. He merely added, that he should not write
-again, till he had something of importance to mention.”</p>
-
-<p>“And my mother—how is she? How are you all?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_351">{351}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“My mother is tolerably well, I trust; though her spirits are greatly
-shaken. She is upstairs, and will have great satisfaction in seeing you
-all. She does not yet leave her dressing-room. Mary and Kitty, thank
-Heaven! are quite well.”</p>
-
-<p>“But you—how are you?” cried Elizabeth. “You look pale. How much you
-must have gone through!”</p>
-
-<p>Her sister, however, assured her of her being perfectly well; and their
-conversation, which had been passing while Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were
-engaged with their children, was now put an end to by the approach of
-the whole party. Jane ran to her uncle and aunt, and welcomed and
-thanked them both, with alternate smiles and tears.</p>
-
-<p>When they were all in the drawing-room, the questions which Elizabeth
-had already asked were of course repeated by the others, and they soon
-found that Jane had no intelligence to give. The sanguine hope of good,
-however, which the benevolence of her heart suggested, had not yet
-deserted her; she still expected that it would all end well, and that
-every morning would bring some letter, either from Lydia or her father,
-to explain their proceedings, and, perhaps, announce the marriage.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet, to whose apartment they all repaired, after a few minutes’
-conversation together, received them exactly as might be expected; with
-tears and lamentations of regret, invectives against the villainous
-conduct of Wickham, and complaints of her own sufferings and ill-usage;
-blaming everybody but the person to whose ill-judging indulgence the
-errors of her daughter must be principally owing.</p>
-
-<p>“If I had been able,” said she, “to carry my point in going to Brighton
-with all my family, <i>this</i> would not<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_352">{352}</a></span> have happened: but poor dear Lydia
-had nobody to take care of her. Why did the Forsters ever let her go out
-of their sight? I am sure there was some great neglect or other on their
-side, for she is not the kind of girl to do such a thing, if she had
-been well looked after. I always thought they were very unfit to have
-the charge of her; but I was over-ruled, as I always am. Poor, dear
-child! And now here’s Mr. Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight
-Wickham, wherever he meets him, and then he will be killed, and what is
-to become of us all? The Collinses will turn us out, before he is cold
-in his grave; and if you are not kind to us, brother, I do not know what
-we shall do.”</p>
-
-<p>They all exclaimed against such terrific ideas; and Mr. Gardiner, after
-general assurances of his affection for her and all her family, told her
-that he meant to be in London the very next day, and would assist Mr.
-Bennet in every endeavour for recovering Lydia.</p>
-
-<p>“Do not give way to useless alarm,” added he: “though it is right to be
-prepared for the worst, there is no occasion to look on it as certain.
-It is not quite a week since they left Brighton. In a few days more, we
-may gain some news of them; and till we know that they are not married,
-and have no design of marrying, do not let us give the matter over as
-lost. As soon as I get to town, I shall go to my brother, and make him
-come home with me to Gracechurch Street, and then we may consult
-together as to what is to be done.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, my dear brother,” replied Mrs. Bennet, “that is exactly what I
-could most wish for. And now do, when you get to town, find them out,
-wherever they may be; and if they are not married already, <i>make</i> them
-marry. And as for wedding clothes, do not let them wait for that,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_353">{353}</a></span> but
-tell Lydia she shall have as much money as she chooses to buy them,
-after they are married. And, above all things, keep Mr. Bennet from
-fighting. Tell him what a dreadful state I am in—that I am frightened
-out of my wits; and have such tremblings, such flutterings all over me,
-such spasms in my side, and pains in my head, and such beatings at my
-heart, that I can get no rest by night nor by day. And tell my dear
-Lydia not to give any directions about her clothes till she has seen me,
-for she does not know which are the best warehouses. Oh, brother, how
-kind you are! I know you will contrive it all.”</p>
-
-<p>But Mr. Gardiner, though he assured her again of his earnest endeavours
-in the cause, could not avoid recommending moderation to her, as well in
-her hopes as her fears; and after talking with her in this manner till
-dinner was on table, they left her to vent all her feelings on the
-housekeeper, who attended in the absence of her daughters.</p>
-
-<p>Though her brother and sister were persuaded that there was no real
-occasion for such a seclusion from the family, they did not attempt to
-oppose it; for they knew that she had not prudence enough to hold her
-tongue before the servants, while they waited at table, and judged it
-better that <i>one</i> only of the household, and the one whom they could
-most trust, should comprehend all her fears and solicitude on the
-subject.</p>
-
-<p>In the dining-room they were soon joined by Mary and Kitty, who had been
-too busily engaged in their separate apartments to make their appearance
-before. One came from her books, and the other from her toilette. The
-faces of both, however, were tolerably calm; and no change was visible
-in either, except that the loss of her<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_354">{354}</a></span> favourite sister, or the anger
-which she had herself incurred in the business, had given something more
-of fretfulness than usual to the accents of Kitty. As for Mary, she was
-mistress enough of herself to whisper to Elizabeth, with a countenance
-of grave reflection, soon after they were seated at table,—</p>
-
-<p>“This is a most unfortunate affair, and will probably be much talked of.
-But we must stem the tide of malice, and pour into the wounded bosoms of
-each other the balm of sisterly consolation.”</p>
-
-<p>Then perceiving in Elizabeth no inclination of replying, she added,
-“Unhappy as the event must be for Lydia, we may draw from it this useful
-lesson:—that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable, that one
-false step involves her in endless ruin, that her reputation is no less
-brittle than it is beautiful, and that she cannot be too much guarded in
-her behaviour towards the undeserving of the other sex.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth lifted up her eyes in amazement, but was too much oppressed to
-make any reply. Mary, however, continued to console herself with such
-kind of moral extractions from the evil before them.</p>
-
-<p>In the afternoon, the two elder Miss Bennets were able to be for half an
-hour by themselves; and Elizabeth instantly availed herself of the
-opportunity of making any inquiries which Jane was equally eager to
-satisfy. After joining in general lamentations over the dreadful sequel
-of this event, which Elizabeth considered as all but certain, and Miss
-Bennet could not assert to be wholly impossible, the former continued
-the subject by saying, “But tell me all and everything about it which I
-have not already heard. Give me further particulars. What did Colonel
-Forster say? Had they no<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_355">{355}</a></span> apprehension of anything before the elopement
-took place? They must have seen them together for ever.”</p>
-
-<p>“Colonel Forster did own that he had often suspected some partiality,
-especially on Lydia’s side, but nothing to give him any alarm. I am so
-grieved for him. His behaviour was attentive and kind to the utmost. He
-<i>was</i> coming to us, in order to assure us of his concern, before he had
-any idea of their not being gone to Scotland: when that apprehension
-first got abroad, it hastened his journey.”</p>
-
-<p>“And was Denny convinced that Wickham would not marry? Did he know of
-their intending to go off? Had Colonel Forster seen Denny himself?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; but when questioned by <i>him</i>, Denny denied knowing anything of
-their plan, and would not give his real opinion about it. He did not
-repeat his persuasion of their not marrying, and from <i>that</i> I am
-inclined to hope he might have been misunderstood before.”</p>
-
-<p>“And till Colonel Forster came himself, not one of you entertained a
-doubt, I suppose, of their being really married?”</p>
-
-<p>“How was it possible that such an idea should enter our brains? I felt a
-little uneasy—a little fearful of my sister’s happiness with him in
-marriage, because I knew that his conduct had not been always quite
-right. My father and mother knew nothing of that; they only felt how
-imprudent a match it must be. Kitty then owned, with a very natural
-triumph on knowing more than the rest of us, that in Lydia’s last letter
-she had prepared her for such a step. She had known, it seems, of their
-being in love with each other many weeks.”</p>
-
-<p>“But not before they went to Brighton?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I believe not.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_356">{356}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“And did Colonel Forster appear to think ill of Wickham himself? Does he
-know his real character?”</p>
-
-<p>“I must confess that he did not speak so well of Wickham as he formerly
-did. He believed him to be imprudent and extravagant; and since this sad
-affair has taken place, it is said that he left Meryton greatly in debt:
-but I hope this may be false.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Jane, had we been less secret, had we told what we knew of him,
-this could not have happened!”</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps it would have been better,” replied her sister.</p>
-
-<p>“But to expose the former faults of any person, without knowing what
-their present feelings were, seemed unjustifiable.”</p>
-
-<p>“We acted with the best intentions.”</p>
-
-<p>“Could Colonel Forster repeat the particulars of Lydia’s note to his
-wife?”</p>
-
-<p>“He brought it with him for us to see.”</p>
-
-<p>Jane then took it from her pocket-book, and gave it to Elizabeth. These
-were the contents:—</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind">“My dear Harriet,</p>
-
-<p>“You will laugh when you know where I am gone, and I cannot help
-laughing myself at your surprise to-morrow morning, as soon as I am
-missed. I am going to Gretna Green, and if you cannot guess with
-who, I shall think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in the
-world I love, and he is an angel. I should never be happy without
-him, so think it no harm to be off. You need not send them word at
-Longbourn of my going, if you do not like it, for it will make the
-surprise the greater when I write to them, and sign my name Lydia
-Wickham. What a good joke it will be! I can hardly write for
-laughing. Pray make my excuses to Pratt for not keeping my
-engagement, and dancing with him to-night.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_357">{357}</a></span> Tell him I hope he will
-excuse me when he knows all, and tell him I will dance with him at
-the next ball we meet with great pleasure. I shall send for my
-clothes when I get to Longbourn; but I wish you would tell Sally to
-mend a great slit in my worked muslin gown before they are packed
-up. Good-bye. Give my love to Colonel Forster. I hope you will
-drink to our good journey.</p>
-
-<p class="r">
-“Your affectionate friend,<br>
-<br>
-“<span class="smcap">Lydia Bennet</span>.”<br>
-</p></div>
-
-<p>“Oh, thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia!” cried Elizabeth when she had
-finished it. “What a letter is this, to be written at such a moment! But
-at least it shows that <i>she</i> was serious in the object of her journey.
-Whatever he might afterwards persuade her to, it was not on her side a
-<i>scheme</i> of infamy. My poor father! how he must have felt it!”</p>
-
-<p>“I never saw anyone so shocked. He could not speak a word for full ten
-minutes. My mother was taken ill immediately, and the whole house in
-such confusion!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Jane,” cried Elizabeth, “was there a servant belonging to it who
-did not know the whole story before the end of the day?”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not know: I hope there was. But to be guarded at such a time is
-very difficult. My mother was in hysterics; and though I endeavoured to
-give her every assistance in my power, I am afraid I did not do so much
-as I might have done. But the horror of what might possibly happen
-almost took from me my faculties.”</p>
-
-<p>“Your attendance upon her has been too much for you. You do not look
-well. Oh that I had been with you! you have had every care and anxiety
-upon yourself alone.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mary and Kitty have been very kind, and would have shared in every
-fatigue, I am sure, but I did not think it<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_358">{358}</a></span> right for either of them.
-Kitty is slight and delicate, and Mary studies so much that her hours of
-repose should not be broken in on. My aunt Philips came to Longbourn on
-Tuesday, after my father went away; and was so good as to stay till
-Thursday with me. She was of great use and comfort to us all, and Lady
-Lucas has been very kind: she walked here on Wednesday morning to
-condole with us, and offered her services, or any of her daughters, if
-they could be of use to us.”</p>
-
-<p>“She had better have stayed at home,” cried Elizabeth: “perhaps she
-<i>meant</i> well, but, under such a misfortune as this, one cannot see too
-little of one’s neighbours. Assistance is impossible; condolence,
-insufferable. Let them triumph over us at a distance, and be satisfied.”</p>
-
-<p>She then proceeded to inquire into the measures which her father had
-intended to pursue, while in town, for the recovery of his daughter.</p>
-
-<p>“He meant, I believe,” replied Jane, “to go to Epsom, the place where
-they last changed horses, see the postilions, and try if anything could
-be made out from them. His principal object must be to discover the
-number of the hackney coach which took them from Clapham. It had come
-with a fare from London; and as he thought the circumstance of a
-gentleman and lady’s removing from one carriage into another might be
-remarked, he meant to make inquiries at Clapham. If he could anyhow
-discover at what house the coachman had before set down his fare, he
-determined to make inquiries there, and hoped it might not be impossible
-to find out the stand and number of the coach. I do not know of any
-other designs that he had formed; but he was in such a hurry to be gone,
-and his spirits so greatly discomposed, that I had difficulty in finding
-out even so much as this.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_359">{359}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_XLVIII"></a><img src="images/i_388_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“The Post.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_388_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="T"></span>HE whole party were in hopes of a letter from Mr. Bennet the next
-morning, but the post came in without bringing a single line from him.
-His family knew him to be, on all common occasions, a most negligent and
-dilatory correspondent; but at such a time they had hoped for exertion.
-They were forced to conclude, that he had no pleasing intelligence to
-send; but even of <i>that</i> they would have been glad to be certain. Mr.
-Gardiner had waited only for the letters before he set off.</p>
-
-<p>When he was gone, they were certain at least of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_360">{360}</a></span> receiving constant
-information of what was going on; and their uncle promised, at parting,
-to prevail on Mr. Bennet to return to Longbourn as soon as he could, to
-the great consolation of his sister, who considered it as the only
-security for her husband’s not being killed in a duel.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Gardiner and the children were to remain in Hertfordshire a few
-days longer, as the former thought her presence might be serviceable to
-her nieces. She shared in their attendance on Mrs. Bennet, and was a
-great comfort to them in their hours of freedom. Their other aunt also
-visited them frequently, and always, as she said, with the design of
-cheering and heartening them up—though, as she never came without
-reporting some fresh instance of Wickham’s extravagance or irregularity,
-she seldom went away without leaving them more dispirited than she found
-them.</p>
-
-<p>All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man who, but three months
-before, had been almost an angel of light. He was declared to be in debt
-to every tradesman in the place, and his intrigues, all honoured with
-the title of seduction, had been extended into every tradesman’s family.
-Everybody declared that he was the wickedest young man in the world; and
-everybody began to find out that they had always distrusted the
-appearance of his goodness. Elizabeth, though she did not credit above
-half of what was said, believed enough to make her former assurance of
-her sister’s ruin still more certain; and even Jane, who believed still
-less of it, became almost hopeless, more especially as the time was now
-come, when, if they had gone to Scotland, which she had never before
-entirely despaired of, they must in all probability have gained some
-news of them.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_361">{361}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Mr. Gardiner left Longbourn on Sunday; on Tuesday, his wife received a
-letter from him: it told them, that on his arrival he had immediately
-found out his brother, and persuaded him to come to Gracechurch Street.
-That Mr. Bennet had been to Epsom and Clapham, before his arrival, but
-without gaining any satisfactory information; and that he was now
-determined to inquire at all the principal hotels in town, as Mr. Bennet
-thought it possible they might have gone to one of them, on their first
-coming to London, before they procured lodgings. Mr. Gardiner himself
-did not expect any success from this measure; but as his brother was
-eager in it, he meant to assist him in pursuing it. He added, that Mr.
-Bennet seemed wholly disinclined at present to leave London, and
-promised to write again very soon. There was also a postscript to this
-effect:—</p>
-
-<p>“I have written to Colonel Forster to desire him to find out, if
-possible, from some of the young man’s intimates in the regiment,
-whether Wickham has any relations or connections who would be likely to
-know in what part of the town he has now concealed himself. If there
-were anyone that one could apply to, with a probability of gaining such
-a clue as that, it might be of essential consequence. At present we have
-nothing to guide us. Colonel Forster will, I dare say, do everything in
-his power to satisfy us on this head. But, on second thoughts, perhaps
-Lizzy could tell us what relations he has now living better than any
-other person.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was at no loss to understand from whence this deference for
-her authority proceeded; but it was not in her power to give any
-information of so satisfactory a nature as the compliment deserved.</p>
-
-<p>She had never heard of his having had any relations,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_362">{362}</a></span> except a father
-and mother, both of whom had been dead many years. It was possible,
-however, that some of his companions in the ——shire might be able to
-give more information; and though she was not very sanguine in expecting
-it, the application was a something to look forward to.</p>
-
-<p>Every day at Longbourn was now a day of anxiety; but the most anxious
-part of each was when the post was expected. The arrival of letters was
-the first grand object of every morning’s impatience. Through letters,
-whatever of good or bad was to be told would be communicated; and every
-succeeding day was expected to bring some news of importance.</p>
-
-<p>But before they heard again from Mr. Gardiner, a letter arrived for
-their father, from a different quarter, from Mr. Collins; which, as Jane
-had received directions to open all that came for him in his absence,
-she accordingly read; and Elizabeth, who knew what curiosities his
-letters always were, looked over her, and read it likewise. It was as
-follows:—</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind">“My dear Sir,</p>
-
-<p>“I feel myself called upon, by our relationship, and my situation
-in life, to condole with you on the grievous affliction you are now
-suffering under, of which we were yesterday informed by a letter
-from Hertfordshire. Be assured, my dear sir, that Mrs. Collins and
-myself sincerely sympathize with you, and all your respectable
-family, in your present distress, which must be of the bitterest
-kind, because proceeding from a cause which no time can remove. No
-arguments shall be wanting on my part, that can alleviate so severe
-a misfortune; or that may comfort you, under a circumstance that
-must be, of all others, most afflicting to a parent’s mind.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_363">{363}</a></span> The
-death of your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison of
-this. And it is the more to be lamented, because there is reason to
-suppose, as my dear Charlotte informs me, that this licentiousness
-of behaviour in your</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 529px;">
-<img src="images/i_392.jpg" width="529" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>
-“To whom I have related the affair”<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="nind">daughter has proceeded from a faulty degree of indulgence; though,
-at the same time, for the consolation of yourself and Mrs. Bennet,
-I am inclined to think that her own disposition must be naturally
-bad, or she could not be guilty of such an enormity, at so early an
-age. Howsoever that may be, you are grievously to be pitied;<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_364">{364}</a></span> in
-which opinion I am not only joined by Mrs. Collins, but likewise by
-Lady Catherine and her daughter, to whom I have related the affair.
-They agree with me in apprehending that this false step in one
-daughter will be injurious to the fortunes of all the others: for
-who, as Lady Catherine herself condescendingly says, will connect
-themselves with such a family? And this consideration leads me,
-moreover, to reflect, with augmented satisfaction, on a certain
-event of last November; for had it been otherwise, I must have been
-involved in all your sorrow and disgrace. Let me advise you, then,
-my dear sir, to console yourself as much as possible, to throw off
-your unworthy child from your affection for ever, and leave her to
-reap the fruits of her own heinous offence.</p>
-
-<p>
-“I am, dear sir,” etc., etc.<br>
-</p></div>
-
-<p>Mr. Gardiner did not write again, till he had received an answer from
-Colonel Forster; and then he had nothing of a pleasant nature to send.
-It was not known that Wickham had a single relation with whom he kept up
-any connection, and it was certain that he had no near one living. His
-former acquaintance had been numerous; but since he had been in the
-militia, it did not appear that he was on terms of particular friendship
-with any of them. There was no one, therefore, who could be pointed out
-as likely to give any news of him. And in the wretched state of his own
-finances, there was a very powerful motive for secrecy, in addition to
-his fear of discovery by Lydia’s relations; for it had just transpired
-that he had left gaming debts behind him to a very considerable amount.
-Colonel Forster believed that more than a thousand pounds would be
-necessary to clear his expenses at Brighton. He owed a good deal<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_365">{365}</a></span> in the
-town, but his debts of honour were still more formidable. Mr. Gardiner
-did not attempt to conceal these particulars from the Longbourn family;
-Jane heard them with horror. “A gamester!” she cried. “This is wholly
-unexpected; I had not an idea of it.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Gardiner added, in his letter, that they might expect to see their
-father at home on the following day, which was Saturday. Rendered
-spiritless by the ill success of all their endeavours, he had yielded to
-his brother-in-law’s entreaty that he would return to his family and
-leave it to him to do whatever occasion might suggest to be advisable
-for continuing their pursuit. When Mrs. Bennet was told of this, she did
-not express so much satisfaction as her children expected, considering
-what her anxiety for his life had been before.</p>
-
-<p>“What! is he coming home, and without poor Lydia?” she cried. “Sure he
-will not leave London before he has found them. Who is to fight Wickham,
-and make him marry her, if he comes away?”</p>
-
-<p>As Mrs. Gardiner began to wish to be at home, it was settled that she
-and her children should go to London at the same time that Mr. Bennet
-came from it. The coach, therefore, took them the first stage of their
-journey, and brought its master back to Longbourn.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Gardiner went away in all the perplexity about Elizabeth and her
-Derbyshire friend, that had attended her from that part of the world.
-His name had never been voluntarily mentioned before them by her niece;
-and the kind of half-expectation which Mrs. Gardiner had formed, of
-their being followed by a letter from him, had ended in nothing.
-Elizabeth had received none since her return, that could come from
-Pemberley.</p>
-
-<p>The present unhappy state of the family rendered any<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_366">{366}</a></span> other excuse for
-the lowness of her spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be
-fairly conjectured from <i>that</i>,—though Elizabeth, who was by this time
-tolerably well acquainted with her own feelings, was perfectly aware
-that, had she known nothing of Darcy, she could have borne the dread of
-Lydia’s infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her, she thought,
-one sleepless night out of two.</p>
-
-<p>When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the appearance of his usual
-philosophic composure. He said as little as he had ever been in the
-habit of saying; made no mention of the business that had taken him
-away; and it was some time before his daughters had courage to speak of
-it.</p>
-
-<p>It was not till the afternoon, when he joined them at tea, that
-Elizabeth ventured to introduce the subject; and then, on her briefly
-expressing her sorrow for what he must have endured, he replied, “Say
-nothing of that. Who should suffer but myself? It has been my own doing,
-and I ought to feel it.”</p>
-
-<p>“You must not be too severe upon yourself,” replied Elizabeth.</p>
-
-<p>“You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is so prone to
-fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have
-been to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression.
-It will pass away soon enough.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you suppose them to be in London?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; where else can they be so well concealed?”</p>
-
-<p>“And Lydia used to want to go to London,” added Kitty.</p>
-
-<p>“She is happy, then,” said her father, drily; “and her residence there
-will probably be of some duration.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_367">{367}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Then, after a short silence, he continued, “Lizzy, I bear you no
-ill-will for being justified in your advice to me last May, which,
-considering the event, shows some greatness of mind.”</p>
-
-<p>They were interrupted by Miss Bennet, who came to fetch her mother’s
-tea.</p>
-
-<p>“This is a parade,” cried he, “which does one good; it gives such an
-elegance to misfortune! Another day I will do the same; I will sit in my
-library, in my nightcap and powdering gown, and give as much trouble as
-I can,—or perhaps I may defer it till Kitty runs away.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am not going to run away, papa,” said Kitty, fretfully. “If <i>I</i>
-should ever go to Brighton, I would behave better than Lydia.”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>You</i> go to Brighton! I would not trust you so near it as Eastbourne,
-for fifty pounds! No, Kitty, I have at least learnt to be cautious, and
-you will feel the effects of it. No officer is ever to enter my house
-again, nor even to pass through the village. Balls will be absolutely
-prohibited, unless you stand up with one of your sisters. And you are
-never to stir out of doors, till you can prove that you have spent ten
-minutes of every day in a rational manner.”</p>
-
-<p>Kitty, who took all these threats in a serious light, began to cry.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, well,” said he, “do not make yourself unhappy. If you are a good
-girl for the next ten years, I will take you to a review at the end of
-them.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_368">{368}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XLIX"></a><img src="images/i_397_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER XLIX.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_397_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="T"></span>WO days after Mr. Bennet’s return, as Jane and Elizabeth were walking
-together in the shrubbery behind the house, they saw the housekeeper
-coming towards them, and concluding that she came to call them to their
-mother, went forward to meet her; but instead of the expected summons,
-when they approached her, she said to Miss Bennet, “I beg your pardon,
-madam, for interrupting you, but I was in hopes you might have got some
-good news from town, so I took the liberty of coming to ask.”</p>
-
-<p>“What do you mean, Hill? We have heard nothing from town.”</p>
-
-<p>“Dear madam,” cried Mrs. Hill, in great astonishment, “don’t you know
-there is an express come for master<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_369">{369}</a></span> from Mr. Gardiner? He has been here
-this half hour, and master has had a letter.”</p>
-
-<p>Away ran the girls, too eager to get in to have time for speech. They
-ran through the vestibule into the breakfast-room; from thence to the
-library;—their father was in neither; and they were on the point of
-seeking him upstairs with their mother, when they were met by the
-butler, who said,—</p>
-
-<p>“If you are looking for my master, ma’am, he is walking towards the
-little copse.”</p>
-
-<p>Upon this information, they instantly passed through the hall once more,
-and ran across the lawn after their father, who was deliberately
-pursuing his way towards a small wood on one side of the paddock.</p>
-
-<p>Jane, who was not so light, nor so much in the habit of running as
-Elizabeth, soon lagged behind, while her sister, panting for breath,
-came up with him, and eagerly cried out,—</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, papa, what news? what news? have you heard from my uncle?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I have had a letter from him by express.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, and what news does it bring—good or bad?”</p>
-
-<p>“What is there of good to be expected?” said he, taking the letter from
-his pocket; “but perhaps you would like to read it.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand. Jane now came up.</p>
-
-<p>“Read it aloud,” said their father, “for I hardly know myself what it is
-about.”</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p class="rt">“Gracechurch Street, <i>Monday, August 2</i>.</p>
-
-<p class="nind">
-“My dear Brother,<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>“At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece, and such
-as, upon the whole, I hope will give<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_370">{370}</a></span> you satisfaction. Soon after
-you left me on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to find out in what
-part of London they were. The particulars I reserve till we meet.
-It is enough to know they are discovered: I have seen them
-both——”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 480px;">
-<img src="images/i_399.jpg" width="480" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>
-“But perhaps you would like to read it”<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Then it is as I always hoped,” cried Jane: “they are married!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_371">{371}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth read on: “I have seen them both. They are not married,
-nor can I find there was any intention of being so; but if you are
-willing to perform the engagements which I have ventured to make on
-your side, I hope it will not be long before they are. All that is
-required of you is, to assure to your daughter, by settlement, her
-equal share of the five thousand pounds, secured among your
-children after the decease of yourself and my sister; and,
-moreover, to enter into an engagement of allowing her, during your
-life, one hundred pounds per annum. These are conditions which,
-considering everything, I had no hesitation in complying with, as
-far as I thought myself privileged, for you. I shall send this by
-express, that no time may be lost in bringing me your answer. You
-will easily comprehend, from these particulars, that Mr. Wickham’s
-circumstances are not so hopeless as they are generally believed to
-be. The world has been deceived in that respect; and I am happy to
-say, there will be some little money, even when all his debts are
-discharged, to settle on my niece, in addition to her own fortune.
-If, as I conclude will be the case, you send me full powers to act
-in your name throughout the whole of this business, I will
-immediately give directions to Haggerston for preparing a proper
-settlement. There will not be the smallest occasion for your coming
-to town again; therefore stay quietly at Longbourn, and depend on
-my diligence and care. Send back your answer as soon as you can,
-and be careful to write explicitly. We have judged it best that my
-niece should be married from this house, of which I hope you will
-approve. She comes to us to-day. I shall write again as soon as
-anything more is determined on. Yours, etc.</p>
-
-<p class="r">
-“<span class="smcap">Edw. Gardiner</span>.”<br>
-<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_372">{372}</a></span></p></div>
-
-<p>“Is it possible?” cried Elizabeth, when she had finished. “Can it be
-possible that he will marry her?”</p>
-
-<p>“Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we have thought him,” said her
-sister. “My dear father, I congratulate you.”</p>
-
-<p>“And have you answered the letter?” said Elizabeth.</p>
-
-<p>“No; but it must be done soon.”</p>
-
-<p>Most earnestly did she then entreat him to lose no more time before he
-wrote.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh! my dear father,” she cried, “come back and write immediately.
-Consider how important every moment is in such a case.”</p>
-
-<p>“Let me write for you,” said Jane, “if you dislike the trouble
-yourself.”</p>
-
-<p>“I dislike it very much,” he replied; “but it must be done.”</p>
-
-<p>And so saying, he turned back with them, and walked towards the house.</p>
-
-<p>“And—may I ask?” said Elizabeth; “but the terms, I suppose, must be
-complied with.”</p>
-
-<p>“Complied with! I am only ashamed of his asking so little.”</p>
-
-<p>“And they <i>must</i> marry! Yet he is <i>such</i> a man.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, yes, they must marry. There is nothing else to be done. But there
-are two things that I want very much to know:—one is, how much money
-your uncle has laid down to bring it about; and the other, how I am ever
-to pay him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Money! my uncle!” cried Jane, “what do you mean, sir?”</p>
-
-<p>“I mean that no man in his proper senses would marry Lydia on so slight
-a temptation as one hundred a year during my life, and fifty after I am
-gone.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_373">{373}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“That is very true,” said Elizabeth; “though it had not occurred to me
-before. His debts to be discharged, and something still to remain! Oh,
-it must be my uncle’s doings! Generous, good man, I am afraid he has
-distressed himself. A small sum could not do all this.”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said her father. “Wickham’s a fool if he takes her with a farthing
-less than ten thousand pounds: I should be sorry to think so ill of him,
-in the very beginning of our relationship.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ten thousand pounds! Heaven forbid! How is half such a sum to be
-repaid?”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bennet made no answer; and each of them, deep in thought, continued
-silent till they reached the house. Their father then went to the
-library to write, and the girls walked into the breakfast-room.</p>
-
-<p>“And they are really to be married!” cried Elizabeth, as soon as they
-were by themselves. “How strange this is! and for <i>this</i> we are to be
-thankful. That they should marry, small as is their chance of happiness,
-and wretched as is his character, we are forced to rejoice! Oh, Lydia!”</p>
-
-<p>“I comfort myself with thinking,” replied Jane, “that he certainly would
-not marry Lydia, if he had not a real regard for her. Though our kind
-uncle has done something towards clearing him, I cannot believe that ten
-thousand pounds, or anything like it, has been advanced. He has children
-of his own, and may have more. How could he spare half ten thousand
-pounds?”</p>
-
-<p>“If we are ever able to learn what Wickham’s debts have been,” said
-Elizabeth, “and how much is settled on his side on our sister, we shall
-exactly know what Mr. Gardiner has done for them, because Wickham has
-not sixpence of his own. The kindness of my uncle and aunt can never be
-requited. Their taking her home, and affording<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_374">{374}</a></span> her their personal
-protection and countenance, is such a sacrifice to her advantage as
-years of gratitude cannot enough acknowledge. By this time she is
-actually with them! If such goodness does not make her miserable now,
-she will never deserve to be happy! What a meeting for her, when she
-first sees my aunt!”</p>
-
-<p>“We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either side,” said
-Jane: “I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His consenting to marry
-her is a proof, I will believe, that he is come to a right way of
-thinking. Their mutual affection will steady them; and I flatter myself
-they will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, as may in
-time make their past imprudence forgotten.”</p>
-
-<p>“Their conduct has been such,” replied Elizabeth, “as neither you, nor
-I, nor anybody, can ever forget. It is useless to talk of it.”</p>
-
-<p>It now occurred to the girls that their mother was in all likelihood
-perfectly ignorant of what had happened. They went to the library,
-therefore, and asked their father whether he would not wish them to make
-it known to her. He was writing, and, without raising his head, coolly
-replied,—</p>
-
-<p>“Just as you please.”</p>
-
-<p>“May we take my uncle’s letter to read to her?”</p>
-
-<p>“Take whatever you like, and get away.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth took the letter from his writing-table, and they went upstairs
-together. Mary and Kitty were both with Mrs. Bennet: one communication
-would, therefore, do for all. After a slight preparation for good news,
-the letter was read aloud. Mrs. Bennet could hardly contain herself. As
-soon as Jane had read Mr. Gardiner’s hope of Lydia’s being soon married,
-her joy burst forth, and every following sentence added to its
-exuberance. She<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_375">{375}</a></span> was now in an irritation as violent from delight as she
-had ever been fidgety from alarm and vexation. To know that her daughter
-would be married was enough. She was disturbed by no fear for her
-felicity, nor humbled by any remembrance of her misconduct.</p>
-
-<p>“My dear, dear Lydia!” she cried: “this is delightful indeed! She will
-be married! I shall see her again! She will be married at sixteen! My
-good, kind brother! I knew how it would be—I knew he would manage
-everything. How I long to see her! and to see dear Wickham too! But the
-clothes, the wedding clothes! I will write to my sister Gardiner about
-them directly. Lizzy, my dear, run down to your father, and ask him how
-much he will give her. Stay, stay, I will go myself. Ring the bell,
-Kitty, for Hill. I will put on my things in a moment. My dear, dear
-Lydia! How merry we shall be together when we meet!”</p>
-
-<p>Her eldest daughter endeavoured to give some relief to the violence of
-these transports, by leading her thoughts to the obligations which Mr.
-Gardiner’s behaviour laid them all under.</p>
-
-<p>“For we must attribute this happy conclusion,” she added, “in a great
-measure to his kindness. We are persuaded that he has pledged himself to
-assist Mr. Wickham with money.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” cried her mother, “it is all very right; who should do it but
-her own uncle? If he had not had a family of his own, I and my children
-must have had all his money, you know; and it is the first time we have
-ever had anything from him except a few presents. Well! I am so happy.
-In a short time, I shall have a daughter married. Mrs. Wickham! How well
-it sounds! And she was only sixteen last June. My dear Jane, I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_376">{376}</a></span> am in
-such a flutter, that I am sure I can’t write; so I will dictate, and you
-write for me. We will settle with your father about the money
-afterwards; but the things should be ordered immediately.”</p>
-
-<p>She was then proceeding to all the particulars of calico, muslin, and
-cambric, and would shortly have dictated some very plentiful orders, had
-not Jane, though with some difficulty, persuaded her to wait till her
-father was at leisure to be consulted. One day’s delay, she observed,
-would be of small importance; and her mother was too happy to be quite
-so obstinate as usual. Other schemes, too, came into her head.</p>
-
-<p>“I will go to Meryton,” said she, “as soon as I am dressed, and tell the
-good, good news to my sister Philips. And as I come back, I can call on
-Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long. Kitty, run down and order the carriage. An
-airing would do me a great deal of good, I am sure. Girls, can I do
-anything for you in Meryton? Oh! here comes Hill. My dear Hill, have you
-heard the good news? Miss Lydia is going to be married; and you shall
-all have a bowl of punch to make merry at her wedding.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Hill began instantly to express her joy. Elizabeth received her
-congratulations amongst the rest, and then, sick of this folly, took
-refuge in her own room, that she might think with freedom. Poor Lydia’s
-situation must, at best, be bad enough; but that it was no worse, she
-had need to be thankful. She felt it so; and though, in looking forward,
-neither rational happiness, nor worldly prosperity could be justly
-expected for her sister, in looking back to what they had feared, only
-two hours ago, she felt all the advantages of what they had gained.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_377">{377}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_L"></a><img src="images/i_406_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“The spiteful old ladies.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER L.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_406_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="M"></span>R. BENNET had very often wished, before this period of his life, that,
-instead of spending his whole income, he had laid by an annual sum, for
-the better provision of his children, and of his wife, if she survived
-him. He now wished it more than ever. Had he done his duty in that
-respect, Lydia need not have been indebted to her uncle for whatever of
-honour or credit could now be purchased for her. The satisfaction of
-prevailing on one of the most worthless young<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_378">{378}</a></span> men in Great Britain to
-be her husband might then have rested in its proper place.</p>
-
-<p>He was seriously concerned that a cause of so little advantage to anyone
-should be forwarded at the sole expense of his brother-in-law; and he
-was determined, if possible, to find out the extent of his assistance,
-and to discharge the obligation as soon as he could.</p>
-
-<p>When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to be perfectly
-useless; for, of course, they were to have a son. This son was to join
-in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should be of age, and the widow
-and younger children would by that means be provided for. Five daughters
-successively entered the world, but yet the son was to come; and Mrs.
-Bennet, for many years after Lydia’s birth, had been certain that he
-would. This event had at last been despaired of, but it was then too
-late to be saving. Mrs. Bennet had no turn for economy; and her
-husband’s love of independence had alone prevented their exceeding their
-income.</p>
-
-<p>Five thousand pounds was settled by marriage articles on Mrs. Bennet and
-the children. But in what proportions it should be divided amongst the
-latter depended on the will of the parents. This was one point, with
-regard to Lydia at least, which was now to be settled, and Mr. Bennet
-could have no hesitation in acceding to the proposal before him. In
-terms of grateful acknowledgment for the kindness of his brother, though
-expressed most concisely, he then delivered on paper his perfect
-approbation of all that was done, and his willingness to fulfil the
-engagements that had been made for him. He had never before supposed
-that, could Wickham be prevailed on to marry his daughter, it would be
-done with so little inconvenience to himself as by the present<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_379">{379}</a></span>
-arrangement. He would scarcely be ten pounds a year the loser, by the
-hundred that was to be paid them; for, what with her board and pocket
-allowance, and the continual presents in money which passed to her
-through her mother’s hands, Lydia’s expenses had been very little within
-that sum.</p>
-
-<p>That it would be done with such trifling exertion on his side, too, was
-another very welcome surprise; for his chief wish at present was to have
-as little trouble in the business as possible. When the first transports
-of rage which had produced his activity in seeking her were over, he
-naturally returned to all his former indolence. His letter was soon
-despatched; for though dilatory in undertaking business, he was quick in
-its execution. He begged to know further particulars of what he was
-indebted to his brother; but was too angry with Lydia to send any
-message to her.</p>
-
-<p>The good news quickly spread through the house; and with proportionate
-speed through the neighbourhood. It was borne in the latter with decent
-philosophy. To be sure, it would have been more for the advantage of
-conversation, had Miss Lydia Bennet come upon the town; or, as the
-happiest alternative, been secluded from the world in some distant
-farm-house. But there was much to be talked of, in marrying her; and the
-good-natured wishes for her well-doing, which had proceeded before from
-all the spiteful old ladies in Meryton, lost but little of their spirit
-in this change of circumstances, because with such a husband her misery
-was considered certain.</p>
-
-<p>It was a fortnight since Mrs. Bennet had been down stairs, but on this
-happy day she again took her seat at the head of her table, and in
-spirits oppressively high. No sentiment of shame gave a damp to her
-triumph.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_380">{380}</a></span> The marriage of a daughter, which had been the first object of
-her wishes since Jane was sixteen, was now on the point of
-accomplishment, and her thoughts and her words ran wholly on those
-attendants of elegant nuptials, fine muslins, new carriages, and
-servants. She was busily searching through the neighbourhood for a
-proper situation for her daughter; and, without knowing or considering
-what their income might be, rejected many as deficient in size and
-importance.</p>
-
-<p>“Haye Park might do,” said she, “if the Gouldings would quit it, or the
-great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but Ashworth is
-too far off. I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for
-Purvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful.”</p>
-
-<p>Her husband allowed her to talk on without interruption while the
-servants remained. But when they had withdrawn, he said to her, “Mrs.
-Bennet, before you take any, or all of these houses, for your son and
-daughter, let us come to a right understanding. Into <i>one</i> house in this
-neighbourhood they shall never have admittance. I will not encourage the
-imprudence of either, by receiving them at Longbourn.”</p>
-
-<p>A long dispute followed this declaration; but Mr. Bennet was firm: it
-soon led to another; and Mrs. Bennet found, with amazement and horror,
-that her husband would not advance a guinea to buy clothes for his
-daughter. He protested that she should receive from him no mark of
-affection whatever on the occasion. Mrs. Bennet could hardly comprehend
-it. That his anger could be carried to such a point of inconceivable
-resentment as to refuse his daughter a privilege, without which her
-marriage would scarcely seem valid, exceeded all that she could believe
-possible. She was more alive to the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_381">{381}</a></span> disgrace, which her want of new
-clothes must reflect on her daughter’s nuptials, than to any sense of
-shame at her eloping and living with Wickham a fortnight before they
-took place.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she had, from the distress of
-the moment, been led to make Mr. Darcy acquainted with their fears for
-her sister; for since her marriage would so shortly give the proper
-termination to the elopement, they might hope to conceal its
-unfavourable beginning from all those who were not immediately on the
-spot.</p>
-
-<p>She had no fear of its spreading farther, through his means. There were
-few people on whose secrecy she would have more confidently depended;
-but at the same time there was no one whose knowledge of a sister’s
-frailty would have mortified her so much. Not, however, from any fear of
-disadvantage from it individually to herself; for at any rate there
-seemed a gulf impassable between them. Had Lydia’s marriage been
-concluded on the most honourable terms, it was not to be supposed that
-Mr. Darcy would connect himself with a family, where to every other
-objection would now be added an alliance and relationship of the nearest
-kind with the man whom he so justly scorned.</p>
-
-<p>From such a connection she could not wonder that he should shrink. The
-wish of procuring her regard, which she had assured herself of his
-feeling in Derbyshire, could not in rational expectation survive such a
-blow as this. She was humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though she
-hardly knew of what. She became jealous of his esteem, when she could no
-longer hope to be benefited by it. She wanted to hear of him, when there
-seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence. She was convinced<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_382">{382}</a></span> that
-she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely they
-should meet.</p>
-
-<p>What a triumph for him, as she often thought, could he know that the
-proposals which she had proudly spurned only four months ago would now
-have been gladly and gratefully received! He was as generous, she
-doubted not, as the most generous of his sex. But while he was mortal,
-there must be a triumph.</p>
-
-<p>She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in
-disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and
-temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes. It
-was an union that must have been to the advantage of both: by her ease
-and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved;
-and from his judgment, information, and knowledge of the world, she must
-have received benefit of greater importance.</p>
-
-<p>But no such happy marriage could now teach the admiring multitude what
-connubial felicity really was. An union of a different tendency, and
-precluding the possibility of the other, was soon to be formed in their
-family.</p>
-
-<p>How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported in tolerable independence she
-could not imagine. But how little of permanent happiness could belong to
-a couple who were only brought together because their passions were
-stronger than their virtue, she could easily conjecture.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother. To Mr. Bennet’s
-acknowledgments he briefly replied, with assurances of his eagerness to
-promote the welfare of any of his family; and concluded with entreaties
-that the subject might never be mentioned to him again.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_383">{383}</a></span> The principal
-purport of his letter was to inform them, that Mr. Wickham had resolved
-on quitting the militia.</p>
-
-<p>“It was greatly my wish that he should do so,” he added, “as soon as his
-marriage was fixed on. And I think you will agree with me, in
-considering a removal from that corps as highly advisable, both on his
-account and my niece’s. It is Mr. Wickham’s intention to go into the
-Regulars; and, among his former friends, there are still some who are
-able and willing to assist him in the army. He has the promise of an
-ensigncy in General——’s regiment, now quartered in the north. It is
-an advantage to have it so far from this part of the kingdom. He
-promises fairly; and I hope among different people, where they may each
-have a character to preserve, they will both be more prudent. I have
-written to Colonel Forster, to inform him of our present arrangements,
-and to request that he will satisfy the various creditors of Mr. Wickham
-in and near Brighton with assurances of speedy payment, for which I have
-pledged myself. And will you give yourself the trouble of carrying
-similar assurances to his creditors in Meryton, of whom I shall subjoin
-a list, according to his information? He has given in all his debts; I
-hope at least he has not deceived us. Haggerston has our directions, and
-all will be completed in a week. They will then join his regiment,
-unless they are first invited to Longbourn; and I understand from Mrs.
-Gardiner that my niece is very desirous of seeing you all before she
-leaves the south. She is well, and begs to be dutifully remembered to
-you and her mother.—Yours, etc.</p>
-
-<p class="r">
-“<span class="smcap">E. Gardiner</span>.”<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bennet and his daughters saw all the advantages <span class="pagenum"><a id="page_384">{384}</a></span>of Wickham’s
-removal from the ——shire, as clearly as Mr. Gardiner could do. But
-Mrs. Bennet was not so well pleased with it. Lydia’s being settled in
-the north, just when she had expected most pleasure and pride in her
-company, for she had by no means given up her plan of their residing in
-Hertfordshire, was a severe disappointment; and, besides, it was such a
-pity that Lydia should be taken from a regiment where she was acquainted
-with everybody, and had so many favourites.</p>
-
-<p>“She is so fond of Mrs. Forster,” said she, “it will be quite shocking
-to send her away! And there are several of the young men, too, that she
-likes very much. The officers may not be so pleasant in General——’s
-regiment.”</p>
-
-<p>His daughter’s request, for such it might be considered, of being
-admitted into her family again, before she set off for the north,
-received at first an absolute negative. But Jane and Elizabeth, who
-agreed in wishing, for the sake of their sister’s feelings and
-consequence, that she should be noticed on her marriage by her parents,
-urged him so earnestly, yet so rationally and so mildly, to receive her
-and her husband at Longbourn, as soon as they were married, that he was
-prevailed on to think as they thought, and act as they wished. And their
-mother had the satisfaction of knowing, that she should be able to show
-her married daughter in the neighbourhood, before she was banished to
-the north. When Mr. Bennet wrote again to his brother, therefore, he
-sent his permission for them to come; and it was settled, that, as soon
-as the ceremony was over, they should proceed to Longbourn. Elizabeth
-was surprised, however, that Wickham should consent to such a scheme;
-and, had she consulted only her own inclination, any meeting with him
-would have been the last object of her wishes.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_385">{385}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_LI"></a><img src="images/i_414_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“With an affectionate smile.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER LI.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_414_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="T"></span>HEIR sister’s wedding-day arrived; and Jane and Elizabeth felt for her
-probably more than she felt for herself. The carriage was sent to meet
-them at——, and they were to return in it by dinnertime. Their arrival
-was dreaded by the elder Miss Bennets—and Jane more<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_386">{386}</a></span> especially, who
-gave Lydia the feelings which would have attended herself, had <i>she</i>
-been the culprit, and was wretched in the thought of what her sister
-must endure.</p>
-
-<p>They came. The family were assembled in the breakfast-room to receive
-them. Smiles decked the face of Mrs. Bennet, as the carriage drove up to
-the door; her husband looked impenetrably grave; her daughters, alarmed,
-anxious, uneasy.</p>
-
-<p>Lydia’s voice was heard in the vestibule; the door was thrown open, and
-she ran into the room. Her mother stepped forwards, embraced her, and
-welcomed her with rapture; gave her hand with an affectionate smile to
-Wickham, who followed his lady; and wished them both joy, with an
-alacrity which showed no doubt of their happiness.</p>
-
-<p>Their reception from Mr. Bennet, to whom they then turned, was not quite
-so cordial. His countenance rather gained in austerity; and he scarcely
-opened his lips. The easy assurance of the young couple, indeed, was
-enough to provoke him.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was disgusted, and even Miss Bennet was shocked. Lydia was
-Lydia still; untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy, and fearless. She turned
-from sister to sister, demanding their congratulations; and when at
-length they all sat down, looked eagerly round the room, took notice of
-some little alteration in it, and observed, with a laugh, that it was a
-great while since she had been there.</p>
-
-<p>Wickham was not at all more distressed than herself; but his manners
-were always so pleasing, that, had his character and his marriage been
-exactly what they ought, his smiles and his easy address, while he
-claimed their relationship, would have delighted them all. Elizabeth<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_387">{387}</a></span>
-had not before believed him quite equal to such assurance; but she sat
-down, resolving within herself to draw no limits in future to the
-impudence of an impudent man. <i>She</i> blushed, and Jane blushed; but the
-cheeks of the two who caused their confusion suffered no variation of
-colour.</p>
-
-<p>There was no want of discourse. The bride and her mother could neither
-of them talk fast enough; and Wickham, who happened to sit near
-Elizabeth, began inquiring after his acquaintance in that neighbourhood,
-with a good-humoured ease, which she felt very unable to equal in her
-replies. They seemed each of them to have the happiest memories in the
-world. Nothing of the past was recollected with pain; and Lydia led
-voluntarily to subjects which her sisters would not have alluded to for
-the world.</p>
-
-<p>“Only think of its being three months,” she cried, “since I went away:
-it seems but a fortnight, I declare; and yet there have been things
-enough happened in the time. Good gracious! when I went away, I am sure
-I had no more idea of being married till I came back again! though I
-thought it would be very good fun if I was.”</p>
-
-<p>Her father lifted up his eyes, Jane was distressed, Elizabeth looked
-expressively at Lydia; but she, who never heard nor saw anything of
-which she chose to be insensible, gaily continued,—</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, mamma, do the people hereabouts know I am married to-day? I was
-afraid they might not; and we overtook William Goulding in his curricle,
-so I was determined he should know it, and so I let down the side glass
-next to him, and took off my glove and let my hand just rest upon the
-window frame, so that he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_388">{388}</a></span> might see the ring, and then I bowed and
-smiled like anything.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth could bear it no longer. She got up and ran out of the room;
-and returned no more, till she heard them passing through the hall to
-the dining-parlour. She then joined them soon enough to see Lydia, with
-anxious parade, walk up to her mother’s right hand, and hear her say to
-her eldest sister,—</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, Jane, I take your place now, and you must go lower, because I am a
-married woman.”</p>
-
-<p>It was not to be supposed that time would give Lydia that embarrassment
-from which she had been so wholly free at first. Her ease and good
-spirits increased. She longed to see Mrs. Philips, the Lucases, and all
-their other neighbours, and to hear herself called “Mrs. Wickham” by
-each of them; and in the meantime she went after dinner to show her ring
-and boast of being married to Mrs. Hill and the two housemaids.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, mamma,” said she, when they were all returned to the
-breakfast-room, “and what do you think of my husband? Is not he a
-charming man? I am sure my sisters must all envy me. I only hope they
-may have half my good luck. They must all go to Brighton. That is the
-place to get husbands. What a pity it is, mamma, we did not all go!”</p>
-
-<p>“Very true; and if I had my will we should. But, my dear Lydia, I don’t
-at all like your going such a way off. Must it be so?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Lord! yes; there is nothing in that. I shall like it of all things.
-You and papa, and my sisters, must come down and see us. We shall be at
-Newcastle all the winter, and I dare say there will be some balls, and I
-will take care to get good partners for them all.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_389">{389}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“I should like it beyond anything!” said her mother.</p>
-
-<p>“And then when you go away, you may leave one or two of my sisters
-behind you; and I dare say I shall get husbands for them before the
-winter is over.”</p>
-
-<p>“I thank you for my share of the favour,” said Elizabeth; “but I do not
-particularly like your way of getting husbands.”</p>
-
-<p>Their visitors were not to remain above ten days with them. Mr. Wickham
-had received his commission before he left London, and he was to join
-his regiment at the end of a fortnight.</p>
-
-<p>No one but Mrs. Bennet regretted that their stay would be so short; and
-she made the most of the time by visiting about with her daughter, and
-having very frequent parties at home. These parties were acceptable to
-all; to avoid a family circle was even more desirable to such as did
-think than such as did not.</p>
-
-<p>Wickham’s affection for Lydia was just what Elizabeth had expected to
-find it; not equal to Lydia’s for him. She had scarcely needed her
-present observation to be satisfied, from the reason of things, that
-their elopement had been brought on by the strength of her love rather
-than by his; and she would have wondered why, without violently caring
-for her, he chose to elope with her at all, had she not felt certain
-that his flight was rendered necessary by distress of circumstances; and
-if that were the case, he was not the young man to resist an opportunity
-of having a companion.</p>
-
-<p>Lydia was exceedingly fond of him. He was her dear Wickham on every
-occasion; no one was to be put in competition with him. He did
-everything best in the world; and she was sure he would kill more<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_390">{390}</a></span> birds
-on the first of September than anybody else in the country.</p>
-
-<p>One morning, soon after their arrival, as she was sitting with her two
-elder sisters, she said to Elizabeth,—</p>
-
-<p>“Lizzy, I never gave <i>you</i> an account of my wedding, I believe. You were
-not by, when I told mamma, and the others, all about it. Are not you
-curious to hear how it was managed?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, really,” replied Elizabeth; “I think there cannot be too little
-said on the subject.”</p>
-
-<p>“La! You are so strange! But I must tell you how it went off. We were
-married, you know, at St. Clement’s, because Wickham’s lodgings were in
-that parish. And it was settled that we should all be there by eleven
-o’clock. My uncle and aunt and I were to go together; and the others
-were to meet us at the church.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, Monday morning came, and I was in such a fuss! I was so afraid,
-you know, that something would happen to put it off, and then I should
-have gone quite distracted. And there was my aunt, all the time I was
-dressing, preaching and talking away just as if she was reading a
-sermon. However, I did not hear above one word in ten, for I was
-thinking, you may suppose, of my dear Wickham. I longed to know whether
-he would be married in his blue coat.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, and so we breakfasted at ten as usual: I thought it would never
-be over; for, by the bye, you are to understand that my uncle and aunt
-were horrid unpleasant all the time I was with them. If you’ll believe
-me, I did not once put my foot out of doors, though I was there a
-fortnight. Not one party, or scheme, or anything! To be sure, London was
-rather thin, but, however, the Little Theatre was open.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_391">{391}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Well, and so, just as the carriage came to the door, my uncle was
-called away upon business to that horrid man Mr. Stone. And then, you
-know, when once they get together, there is no end of it. Well, I was so
-frightened I did not know what to do, for my uncle was to give me away;
-and if we were beyond the hour we could not be married all day. But,
-luckily, he came back again in ten minutes’ time, and then we all set
-out. However, I recollected afterwards, that if he <i>had</i> been prevented
-going, the wedding need not be put off, for Mr. Darcy might have done as
-well.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Darcy!” repeated Elizabeth, in utter amazement.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes! he was to come there with Wickham, you know. But, gracious me!
-I quite forgot! I ought not to have said a word about it. I promised
-them so faithfully! What will Wickham say? It was to be such a secret!”</p>
-
-<p>“If it was to be a secret,” said Jane, “say not another word on the
-subject. You may depend upon my seeking no further.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, certainly,” said Elizabeth, though burning with curiosity; “we will
-ask you no questions.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you,” said Lydia; “for if you did, I should certainly tell you
-all, and then Wickham would be so angry.”</p>
-
-<p>On such encouragement to ask, Elizabeth was forced to put it out of her
-power, by running away.</p>
-
-<p>But to live in ignorance on such a point was impossible; or at least it
-was impossible not to try for information. Mr. Darcy had been at her
-sister’s wedding. It was exactly a scene, and exactly among people,
-where he had apparently least to do, and least temptation to go.
-Conjectures as to the meaning of it, rapid and wild,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_392">{392}</a></span> hurried into her
-brain; but she was satisfied with none. Those that best pleased her, as
-placing his conduct in the noblest light, seemed most improbable. She
-could not bear such suspense; and hastily seizing a sheet of paper,
-wrote a short letter to her aunt, to request an explanation of what
-Lydia had dropped, if it were compatible with the secrecy which had been
-intended.</p>
-
-<p>“You may readily comprehend,” she added, “what my curiosity must be to
-know how a person unconnected with any of us, and, comparatively
-speaking, a stranger to our family, should have been amongst you at such
-a time. Pray write instantly, and let me understand it—unless it is,
-for very cogent reasons, to remain in the secrecy which Lydia seems to
-think necessary; and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with
-ignorance.”</p>
-
-<p>“Not that I <i>shall</i>, though,” she added to herself, and she finished the
-letter; “and, my dear aunt, if you do not tell me in an honourable
-manner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find it
-out.”</p>
-
-<p>Jane’s delicate sense of honour would not allow her to speak to
-Elizabeth privately of what Lydia had let fall; Elizabeth was glad of
-it:—till it appeared whether her inquiries would receive any
-satisfaction, she had rather be without a confidante.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_393">{393}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_LII"></a><img src="images/i_422_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“I am sure she did not listen.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER LII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_422_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="E"></span>LIZABETH had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to her letter as
-soon as she possibly could. She was no sooner in possession of it, than
-hurrying into the little copse, where she was least likely to be
-interrupted, she sat down on one of the benches, and prepared<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_394">{394}</a></span> to be
-happy; for the length of the letter convinced her that it did not
-contain a denial.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p class="rt">“Gracechurch Street, <i>Sept. 6</i>.</p>
-
-<p class="nind">
-“My dear Niece,<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>“I have just received your letter, and shall devote this whole
-morning to answering it, as I foresee that a <i>little</i> writing will
-not comprise what I have to tell you. I must confess myself
-surprised by your application; I did not expect it from <i>you</i>.
-Don’t think me angry, however, for I only mean to let you know,
-that I had not imagined such inquiries to be necessary on <i>your</i>
-side. If you do not choose to understand me, forgive my
-impertinence. Your uncle is as much surprised as I am; and nothing
-but the belief of your being a party concerned would have allowed
-him to act as he has done. But if you are really innocent and
-ignorant, I must be more explicit. On the very day of my coming
-home from Longbourn, your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. Mr.
-Darcy called, and was shut up with him several hours. It was all
-over before I arrived; so my curiosity was not so dreadfully racked
-as <i>yours</i> seems to have been. He came to tell Mr. Gardiner that he
-had found out where your sister and Mr. Wickham were, and that he
-had seen and talked with them both—Wickham repeatedly, Lydia once.
-From what I can collect, he left Derbyshire only one day after
-ourselves, and came to town with the resolution of hunting for
-them. The motive professed was his conviction of its being owing to
-himself that Wickham’s worthlessness had not been so well known as
-to make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or
-confide in him. He generously imputed the whole to his mistaken
-pride, and confessed that he had before thought it beneath him to
-lay his private actions open to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_395">{395}</a></span> the world. His character was to
-speak for itself. He called it, therefore, his duty to step
-forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil which had been brought on
-by himself. If he <i>had another</i> motive, I am sure it would never
-disgrace him. He had been some days in town before he was able to
-discover them; but he had something to direct his search, which was
-more than <i>we</i> had; and the consciousness of this was another
-reason for his resolving to follow us. There is a lady, it seems, a
-Mrs. Younge, who was some time ago governess to Miss Darcy, and was
-dismissed from her charge on some cause of disapprobation, though
-he did not say what. She then took a large house in Edward Street,
-and has since maintained herself by letting lodgings. This Mrs.
-Younge was, he knew, intimately acquainted with Wickham; and he
-went to her for intelligence of him, as soon as he got to town. But
-it was two or three days before he could get from her what he
-wanted. She would not betray her trust, I suppose, without bribery
-and corruption, for she really did know where her friend was to be
-found. Wickham, indeed, had gone to her on their first arrival in
-London; and had she been able to receive them into her house, they
-would have taken up their abode with her. At length, however, our
-kind friend procured the wished-for direction. They were in ——
-Street. He saw Wickham, and afterwards insisted on seeing Lydia.
-His first object with her, he acknowledged, had been to persuade
-her to quit her present disgraceful situation, and return to her
-friends as soon as they could be prevailed on to receive her,
-offering his assistance as far as it would go. But he found Lydia
-absolutely resolved on remaining where she was. She cared for none
-of her friends; she wanted no help of his; she would not hear of
-leaving Wickham.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_396">{396}</a></span> She was sure they should be married some time or
-other, and it did not much signify when. Since such were her
-feelings, it only remained, he thought, to secure and expedite a
-marriage, which, in his very first conversation with Wickham, he
-easily learnt had never been <i>his</i> design. He confessed himself
-obliged to leave the regiment on account of some debts of honour
-which were very pressing; and scrupled not to lay all the ill
-consequences of Lydia’s flight on her own folly alone. He meant to
-resign his commission immediately; and as to his future situation,
-he could conjecture very little about it. He must go somewhere, but
-he did not know where, and he knew he should have nothing to live
-on. Mr. Darcy asked why he did not marry your sister at once.
-Though Mr. Bennet was not imagined to be very rich, he would have
-been able to do something for him, and his situation must have been
-benefited by marriage. But he found, in reply to this question,
-that Wickham still cherished the hope of more effectually making
-his fortune by marriage, in some other country. Under such
-circumstances, however, he was not likely to be proof against the
-temptation of immediate relief. They met several times, for there
-was much to be discussed. Wickham, of course, wanted more than he
-could get; but at length was reduced to be reasonable. Everything
-being settled between <i>them</i>, Mr. Darcy’s next step was to make
-your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Gracechurch
-Street the evening before I came home. But Mr. Gardiner could not
-be seen; and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father
-was still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did
-not judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly
-consult as your uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him
-till after the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page_397">{397}</a></span>departure of the former. He did not leave his name,
-and till the next day it was only known that a gentleman had called
-on business. On Saturday he came again. Your father was gone, your
-uncle at home, and, as I said before, they had a great deal of talk
-together. They met again on Sunday, and then <i>I</i> saw him too. It
-was not all settled before Monday: as soon as it was, the express
-was sent off to Longbourn. But our visitor was very obstinate. I
-fancy, Lizzy, that obstinacy is the real defect of his character,
-after all. He has been accused of many faults at different times;
-but <i>this</i> is the true one. Nothing was to be done that he did not
-do himself; though I am sure (and I do not speak it to be thanked,
-therefore say nothing about it) your uncle would most readily have
-settled the whole. They battled it together for a long time, which
-was more than either the gentleman or lady concerned in it
-deserved. But at last your uncle was forced to yield, and instead
-of being allowed to be of use to his niece, was forced to put up
-with only having the probable credit of it, which went sorely
-against the grain; and I really believe your letter this morning
-gave him great pleasure, because it required an explanation that
-would rob him of his borrowed feathers, and give the praise where
-it was due. But, Lizzy, this must go no further than yourself, or
-Jane at most. You know pretty well, I suppose, what has been done
-for the young people. His debts are to be paid, amounting, I
-believe, to considerably more than a thousand pounds, another
-thousand in addition to her own settled upon <i>her</i>, and his
-commission purchased. The reason why all this was to be done by him
-alone, was such as I have given above. It was owing to him, to his
-reserve and want of proper consideration, that Wickham’s character
-had been so<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_398">{398}</a></span> misunderstood, and consequently that he had been
-received and noticed as he was. Perhaps there was some truth in
-<i>this</i>; though I doubt whether <i>his</i> reserve, or <i>anybody’s</i>
-reserve can be answerable for the event. But in spite of all this
-fine talking, my dear Lizzy, you may rest perfectly assured that
-your uncle would never have yielded, if we had not given him credit
-for <i>another interest</i> in the affair. When all this was resolved
-on, he returned again to his friends, who were still staying at
-Pemberley; but it was agreed that he should be in London once more
-when the wedding took place, and all money matters were then to
-receive the last finish. I believe I have now told you everything.
-It is a relation which you tell me is to give you great surprise; I
-hope at least it will not afford you any displeasure. Lydia came to
-us, and Wickham had constant admission to the house. <i>He</i> was
-exactly what he had been when I knew him in Hertfordshire; but I
-would not tell you how little I was satisfied with <i>her</i> behaviour
-while she stayed with us, if I had not perceived, by Jane’s letter
-last Wednesday, that her conduct on coming home was exactly of a
-piece with it, and therefore what I now tell you can give you no
-fresh pain. I talked to her repeatedly in the most serious manner,
-representing to her the wickedness of what she had done, and all
-the unhappiness she had brought on her family. If she heard me, it
-was by good luck, for I am sure she did not listen. I was sometimes
-quite provoked; but then I recollected my dear Elizabeth and Jane,
-and for their sakes had patience with her. Mr. Darcy was punctual
-in his return, and, as Lydia informed you, attended the wedding. He
-dined with us the next day, and was to leave town again on
-Wednesday or Thursday. Will you be very angry with me, my dear<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_399">{399}</a></span>
-Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying (what I was never bold
-enough to say before) how much I like him? His behaviour to us has,
-in every respect, been as pleasing as when we were in Derbyshire.
-His understanding and opinions all please me; he wants nothing but
-a little more liveliness, and <i>that</i>, if he marry <i>prudently</i>, his
-wife may teach him. I thought him very sly; he hardly ever
-mentioned your name. But slyness seems the fashion. Pray forgive
-me, if I have been very presuming, or at least do not punish me so
-far as to exclude me from P. I shall never be quite happy till I
-have been all round the park. A low phaeton with a nice little pair
-of ponies would be the very thing. But I must write no more. The
-children have been wanting me this half hour.</p>
-
-<p class="r">
-“Yours, very sincerely,<br>
-“<span class="smcap">M. Gardiner</span>.”<br>
-</p></div>
-
-<p>The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth into a flutter of spirits,
-in which it was difficult to determine whether pleasure or pain bore the
-greatest share. The vague and unsettled suspicions which uncertainty had
-produced, of what Mr. Darcy might have been doing to forward her
-sister’s match—which she had feared to encourage, as an exertion of
-goodness too great to be probable, and at the same time dreaded to be
-just, from the pain of obligation—were proved beyond their greatest
-extent to be true! He had followed them purposely to town, he had taken
-on himself all the trouble and mortification attendant on such a
-research; in which supplication had been necessary to a woman whom he
-must abominate and despise, and where he was reduced to meet, frequently
-meet, reason with, persuade, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_400">{400}</a></span> finally bribe the man whom he always
-most wished to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to
-pronounce. He had done all this for a girl whom he could neither regard
-nor esteem. Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her. But it
-was a hope shortly checked by other considerations; and she soon felt
-that even her vanity was insufficient, when required to depend on his
-affection for her, for a woman who had already refused him, as able to
-overcome a sentiment so natural as abhorrence against relationship with
-Wickham. Brother-in-law of Wickham! Every kind of pride must revolt from
-the connection. He had, to be sure, done much. She was ashamed to think
-how much. But he had given a reason for his interference, which asked no
-extraordinary stretch of belief. It was reasonable that he should feel
-he had been wrong; he had liberality, and he had the means of exercising
-it; and though she would not place herself as his principal inducement,
-she could perhaps believe, that remaining partiality for her might
-assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind must be
-materially concerned. It was painful, exceedingly painful, to know that
-they were under obligations to a person who could never receive a
-return. They owed the restoration of Lydia, her character, everything to
-him. Oh, how heartily did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she
-had ever encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed towards
-him! For herself she was humbled; but she was proud of him,—proud that
-in a cause of compassion and honour he had been able to get the better
-of himself. She read over her aunt’s commendation of him again and
-again. It was hardly enough; but it pleased her. She was even sensible
-of some pleasure, though mixed with regret, on<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_401">{401}</a></span> finding how steadfastly
-both she and her uncle had been persuaded that affection and confidence
-subsisted between Mr. Darcy and herself.</p>
-
-<p>She was roused from her seat and her reflections, by someone’s approach;
-and, before she could strike into another path, she was overtaken by
-Wickham.</p>
-
-<p>“I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear sister?” said he,
-as he joined her.</p>
-
-<p>“You certainly do,” she replied with a smile; “but it does not follow
-that the interruption must be unwelcome.”</p>
-
-<p>“I should be sorry, indeed, if it were. <i>We</i> were always good friends,
-and now we are better.”</p>
-
-<p>“True. Are the others coming out?”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not know. Mrs. Bennet and Lydia are going in the carriage to
-Meryton. And so, my dear sister, I find, from our uncle and aunt, that
-you have actually seen Pemberley.”</p>
-
-<p>She replied in the affirmative.</p>
-
-<p>“I almost envy you the pleasure, and yet I believe it would be too much
-for me, or else I could take it in my way to Newcastle. And you saw the
-old housekeeper, I suppose? Poor Reynolds, she was always very fond of
-me. But of course she did not mention my name to you.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, she did.”</p>
-
-<p>“And what did she say?”</p>
-
-<p>“That you were gone into the army, and she was afraid had—not turned
-out well. At such a distance as <i>that</i>, you know, things are strangely
-misrepresented.”</p>
-
-<p>“Certainly,” he replied, biting his lips. Elizabeth hoped she had
-silenced him; but he soon afterwards said,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_402">{402}</a></span>—</p>
-
-<p>“I was surprised to see Darcy in town last month. We passed each other
-several times. I wonder what he can be doing there.”</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps preparing for his marriage with Miss de Bourgh,” said
-Elizabeth. “It must be something particular to take him there at this
-time of year.”</p>
-
-<p>“Undoubtedly. Did you see him while you were at Lambton? I thought I
-understood from the Gardiners that you had.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; he introduced us to his sister.”</p>
-
-<p>“And do you like her?”</p>
-
-<p>“Very much.”</p>
-
-<p>“I have heard, indeed, that she is uncommonly improved within this year
-or two. When I last saw her, she was not very promising. I am very glad
-you liked her. I hope she will turn out well.”</p>
-
-<p>“I dare say she will; she has got over the most trying age.”</p>
-
-<p>“Did you go by the village of Kympton?”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not recollect that we did.”</p>
-
-<p>“I mention it because it is the living which I ought to have had. A most
-delightful place! Excellent parsonage-house! It would have suited me in
-every respect.”</p>
-
-<p>“How should you have liked making sermons?”</p>
-
-<p>“Exceedingly well. I should have considered it as part of my duty, and
-the exertion would soon have been nothing. One ought not to repine; but,
-to be sure, it would have been such a thing for me! The quiet, the
-retirement of such a life, would have answered all my ideas of
-happiness! But it was not to be. Did you ever hear Darcy mention the
-circumstance when you were in Kent?”</p>
-
-<p>“I <i>have</i> heard from authority, which I thought <i>as good</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_403">{403}</a></span> that it was
-left you conditionally only, and at the will of the present patron.”</p>
-
-<p>“You have! Yes, there was something in <i>that</i>; I told you so from the
-first, you may remember.”</p>
-
-<p>“I <i>did</i> hear, too, that there was a time when sermon-making was not so
-palatable to you as it seems to be at present; that you actually
-declared your resolution of never taking orders, and that the business
-had been compromised accordingly.”</p>
-
-<p>“You did! and it was not wholly without foundation. You may remember
-what I told you on that point, when first we talked of it.”</p>
-
-<p>They were now almost at the door of the house, for she had walked fast
-to get rid of him; and unwilling, for her sister’s sake, to provoke him,
-she only said in reply, with a good-humoured smile,—</p>
-
-<p>“Come, Mr. Wickham, we are brother and sister, you know. Do not let us
-quarrel about the past. In future, I hope we shall be always of one
-mind.”</p>
-
-<p>She held out her hand: he kissed it with affectionate gallantry, though
-he hardly knew how to look, and they entered the house.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_404">{404}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_LIII"></a><img src="images/i_433_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“Mr. Darcy with him.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER LIII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_433_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="M"></span>R. WICKHAM was so perfectly satisfied with this conversation, that he
-never again distressed himself, or provoked his dear sister Elizabeth,
-by introducing the subject of it; and she was pleased to find that she
-had said enough to keep him quiet.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_405">{405}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The day of his and Lydia’s departure soon came; and Mrs. Bennet was
-forced to submit to a separation, which, as her husband by no means
-entered into her scheme of their all going to Newcastle, was likely to
-continue at least a twelvemonth.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, my dear Lydia,” she cried, “when shall we meet again?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Lord! I don’t know. Not these two or three years, perhaps.”</p>
-
-<p>“Write to me very often, my dear.”</p>
-
-<p>“As often as I can. But you know married women have never much time for
-writing. My sisters may write to <i>me</i>. They will have nothing else to
-do.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Wickham’s adieus were much more affectionate than his wife’s. He
-smiled, looked handsome, and said many pretty things.</p>
-
-<p>“He is as fine a fellow,” said Mr. Bennet, as soon as they were out of
-the house, “as ever I saw. He simpers, and smirks, and makes love to us
-all. I am prodigiously proud of him. I defy even Sir William Lucas
-himself to produce a more valuable son-in-law.”</p>
-
-<p>The loss of her daughter made Mrs. Bennet very dull for several days.</p>
-
-<p>“I often think,” said she, “that there is nothing so bad as parting with
-one’s friends. One seems so forlorn without them.”</p>
-
-<p>“This is the consequence, you see, madam, of marrying a daughter,” said
-Elizabeth. “It must make you better satisfied that your other four are
-single.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is no such thing. Lydia does not leave me because she is married;
-but only because her husband’s regiment happens to be so far off. If
-that had been nearer, she would not have gone so soon.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_406">{406}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>But the spiritless condition which this event threw her into was shortly
-relieved, and her mind opened again to the agitation of hope, by an
-article of news which then began to be in circulation. The housekeeper
-at Netherfield had received orders to prepare for the arrival of her
-master, who was coming down in a day or two, to shoot there for several
-weeks. Mrs. Bennet was quite in the fidgets. She looked at Jane, and
-smiled, and shook her head, by turns.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, well, and so Mr. Bingley is coming down, sister,” (for Mrs.
-Philips first brought her the news). “Well, so much the better. Not that
-I care about it, though. He is nothing to us, you know, and I am sure I
-never want to see him again. But, however, he is very welcome to come to
-Netherfield, if he likes it. And who knows what <i>may</i> happen? But that
-is nothing to us. You know, sister, we agreed long ago never to mention
-a word about it. And so, it is quite certain he is coming?”</p>
-
-<p>“You may depend on it,” replied the other, “for Mrs. Nichols was in
-Meryton last night: I saw her passing by, and went out myself on purpose
-to know the truth of it; and she told me that it was certainly true. He
-comes down on Thursday, at the latest, very likely on Wednesday. She was
-going to the butcher’s, she told me, on purpose to order in some meat on
-Wednesday, and she has got three couple of ducks just fit to be killed.”</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bennet had not been able to hear of his coming without changing
-colour. It was many months since she had mentioned his name to
-Elizabeth; but now, as soon as they were alone together, she said,—</p>
-
-<p>“I saw you look at me to-day, Lizzy, when my aunt told us of the present
-report; and I know I appeared<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_407">{407}</a></span> distressed; but don’t imagine it was from
-any silly cause. I was only confused for the moment, because I felt that
-I <i>should</i> be looked at. I do assure you that the news does not affect
-me either with pleasure or pain. I am glad of one thing, that he comes
-alone; because we shall see the less of him. Not that I am afraid of
-<i>myself</i>, but I dread other people’s remarks.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth did not know what to make of it. Had she not seen him in
-Derbyshire, she might have supposed him capable of coming there with no
-other view than what was acknowledged; but she still thought him partial
-to Jane, and she wavered as to the greater probability of his coming
-there <i>with</i> his friend’s permission, or being bold enough to come
-without it.</p>
-
-<p>“Yet it is hard,” she sometimes thought, “that this poor man cannot come
-to a house, which he has legally hired, without raising all this
-speculation! I <i>will</i> leave him to himself.”</p>
-
-<p>In spite of what her sister declared, and really believed to be her
-feelings, in the expectation of his arrival, Elizabeth could easily
-perceive that her spirits were affected by it. They were more disturbed,
-more unequal, than she had often seen them.</p>
-
-<p>The subject which had been so warmly canvassed between their parents,
-about a twelvemonth ago, was now brought forward again.</p>
-
-<p>“As soon as ever Mr. Bingley comes, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “you
-will wait on him, of course.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, no. You forced me into visiting him last year, and promised, if I
-went to see him, he should marry one of my daughters. But it ended in
-nothing, and I will not be sent on a fool’s errand again.”</p>
-
-<p>His wife represented to him how absolutely necessary<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_408">{408}</a></span> such an attention
-would be from all the neighbouring gentlemen, on his returning to
-Netherfield.</p>
-
-<p>“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis an <i>etiquette</i> I despise,” said he. “If he wants our society, let
-him seek it. He knows where we live. I will not spend <i>my</i> hours in
-running after my neighbours every time they go away and come back
-again.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, all I know is, that it will be abominably rude if you do not wait
-on him. But, however, that shan’t prevent my asking him to dine here, I
-am determined. We must have Mrs. Long and the Gouldings soon. That will
-make thirteen with ourselves, so there will be just room at table for
-him.”</p>
-
-<p>Consoled by this resolution, she was the better able to bear her
-husband’s incivility; though it was very mortifying to know that her
-neighbours might all see Mr. Bingley, in consequence of it, before
-<i>they</i> did. As the day of his arrival drew near,—</p>
-
-<p>“I begin to be sorry that he comes at all,” said Jane to her sister. “It
-would be nothing; I could see him with perfect indifference; but I can
-hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually talked of. My mother means well;
-but she does not know, no one can know, how much I suffer from what she
-says. Happy shall I be when his stay at Netherfield is over!”</p>
-
-<p>“I wish I could say anything to comfort you,” replied Elizabeth; “but it
-is wholly out of my power. You must feel it; and the usual satisfaction
-of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied me, because you have
-always so much.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bingley arrived. Mrs. Bennet, through the assistance of servants,
-contrived to have the earliest tidings of it, that the period of anxiety
-and fretfulness on her side be as long as it could. She counted the days
-that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_409">{409}</a></span> must intervene before their invitation could be sent—hopeless of
-seeing him before. But on the third morning after his arrival in
-Hertfordshire, she saw him from her dressing-room window enter the
-paddock, and ride towards the house.</p>
-
-<p>Her daughters were eagerly called to partake of her joy. Jane resolutely
-kept her place at the table; but Elizabeth, to satisfy her mother, went
-to the window—she looked—she saw Mr. Darcy with him, and sat down
-again by her sister.</p>
-
-<p>“There is a gentleman with him, mamma,” said Kitty; “who can it be?”</p>
-
-<p>“Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I do not
-know.”</p>
-
-<p>“La!” replied Kitty, “it looks just like that man that used to be with
-him before. Mr. what’s his name—that tall, proud man.”</p>
-
-<p>“Good gracious! Mr. Darcy!—and so it does, I vow. Well, any friend of
-Mr. Bingley’s will always be welcome here, to be sure; but else I must
-say that I hate the very sight of him.”</p>
-
-<p>Jane looked at Elizabeth with surprise and concern. She knew but little
-of their meeting in Derbyshire, and therefore felt for the awkwardness
-which must attend her sister, in seeing him almost for the first time
-after receiving his explanatory letter. Both sisters were uncomfortable
-enough. Each felt for the other, and of course for themselves; and their
-mother talked on of her dislike of Mr. Darcy, and her resolution to be
-civil to him only as Mr. Bingley’s friend, without being heard by either
-of them. But Elizabeth had sources of uneasiness which could not yet be
-suspected by Jane, to whom she had never yet had courage to show Mrs.
-Gardine<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_410">{410}</a></span>r’s letter, or to relate her own change of sentiment towards
-him. To Jane, he could be only a man whose proposals she had refused,
-and whose merits she had undervalued; but to her own more extensive
-information, he was the person to whom the whole family were indebted
-for the first of benefits, and whom she regarded herself with an
-interest, if not quite so tender, at least as reasonable and just, as
-what Jane felt for Bingley. Her astonishment at his coming—at his
-coming to Netherfield, to Longbourn, and voluntarily seeking her again,
-was almost equal to what she had known on first witnessing his altered
-behaviour in Derbyshire.</p>
-
-<p>The colour which had been driven from her face returned for half a
-minute with an additional glow, and a smile of delight added lustre to
-her eyes, as she thought for that space of time that his affection and
-wishes must still be unshaken; but she would not be secure.</p>
-
-<p>“Let me first see how he behaves,” said she; “it will then be early
-enough for expectation.”</p>
-
-<p>She sat intently at work, striving to be composed, and without daring to
-lift up her eyes, till anxious curiosity carried them to the face of her
-sister as the servant was approaching the door. Jane looked a little
-paler than usual, but more sedate than Elizabeth had expected. On the
-gentlemen’s appearing, her colour increased; yet she received them with
-tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any
-symptom of resentment, or any unnecessary complaisance.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth said as little to either as civility would allow, and sat down
-again to her work, with an eagerness which it did not often command. She
-had ventured only one glance at Darcy. He looked serious as usual;<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_411">{411}</a></span> and,
-she thought, more as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, than as
-she had seen him at Pemberley. But, perhaps, he could not in her
-mother’s presence be what he was before her uncle and aunt. It was a
-painful, but not an improbable, conjecture.</p>
-
-<p>Bingley she had likewise seen for an instant, and in that short period
-saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. He was received by Mrs.
-Bennet with a degree of civility which made her two daughters ashamed,
-especially when contrasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness of
-her courtesy and address of his friend.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth particularly, who knew that her mother owed to the latter the
-preservation of her favourite daughter from irremediable infamy, was
-hurt and distressed to a most painful degree by a distinction so ill
-applied.</p>
-
-<p>Darcy, after inquiring of her how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did—a question
-which she could not answer without confusion—said scarcely anything. He
-was not seated by her: perhaps that was the reason of his silence; but
-it had not been so in Derbyshire. There he had talked to her friends
-when he could not to herself. But now several minutes elapsed, without
-bringing the sound of his voice; and when occasionally, unable to resist
-the impulse of curiosity, she raised her eyes to his face, she as often
-found him looking at Jane as at herself, and frequently on no object but
-the ground. More thoughtfulness and less anxiety to please, than when
-they last met, were plainly expressed. She was disappointed, and angry
-with herself for being so.</p>
-
-<p>“Could I expect it to be otherwise?” said she. “Yet why did he come?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_412">{412}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>She was in no humour for conversation with anyone but himself; and to
-him she had hardly courage to speak.</p>
-
-<p>She inquired after his sister, but could do no more.</p>
-
-<p>“It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away,” said Mrs. Bennet.</p>
-
-<p>He readily agreed to it.</p>
-
-<p>“I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People <i>did</i> say,
-you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope
-it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood
-since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled: and one of my
-own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have
-seen it in the papers. It was in the ‘Times’ and the ‘Courier,’ I know;
-though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, ‘Lately,
-George Wickham, Esq., to Miss Lydia Bennet,’ without there being a
-syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything.
-It was my brother Gardiner’s drawing up, too, and I wonder how he came
-to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?”</p>
-
-<p>Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations. Elizabeth
-dared not lift up her eyes. How Mr. Darcy looked, therefore, she could
-not tell.</p>
-
-<p>“It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married,”
-continued her mother; “but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very
-hard to have her taken away from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a
-place quite northward it seems, and there they are to stay, I do not
-know how long. His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of
-his leaving the ——shire, and of his being gone into the Regulars.
-Thank heaven!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_413">{413}</a></span> he has <i>some</i> friends, though, perhaps, not so many as he
-deserves.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr. Darcy, was in such misery
-of shame that she could hardly keep her seat. It drew from her, however,
-the exertion of speaking, which nothing else had so effectually done
-before; and she asked Bingley whether he meant to make any stay in the
-country at present. A few weeks, he believed.</p>
-
-<p>“When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley,” said her mother,
-“I beg you will come here and shoot as many as you please on Mr.
-Bennet’s manor. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and
-will save all the best of the coveys for you.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth’s misery increased at such unnecessary, such officious
-attention! Were the same fair prospect to arise at present, as had
-flattered them a year ago, everything, she was persuaded, would be
-hastening to the same vexatious conclusion. At that instant she felt,
-that years of happiness could not make Jane or herself amends for
-moments of such painful confusion.</p>
-
-<p>“The first wish of my heart,” said she to herself, “is never more to be
-in company with either of them. Their society can afford no pleasure
-that will atone for such wretchedness as this! Let me never see either
-one or the other again!”</p>
-
-<p>Yet the misery, for which years of happiness were to offer no
-compensation, received soon afterwards material relief, from observing
-how much the beauty of her sister rekindled the admiration of her former
-lover. When first he came in, he had spoken to her but little, but every
-five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his attention. He found her
-as handsome as she had<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_414">{414}</a></span> been last year; as good-natured, and as
-unaffected, though not quite so chatty. Jane was anxious that no
-difference should be perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded
-that she talked as much as ever; but her mind was so busily engaged,
-that she did not always know when she was silent.</p>
-
-<p>When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet was mindful of her
-intended civility, and they were invited and engaged to dine at
-Longbourn in a few days’ time.</p>
-
-<p>“You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley,” she added; “for when
-you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with
-us as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you
-I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your
-engagement.”</p>
-
-<p>Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of
-his concern at having been prevented by business. They then went away.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and dine
-there that day; but, though she always kept a very good table, she did
-not think anything less than two courses could be good enough for a man
-on whom she had such anxious designs, or satisfy the appetite and pride
-of one who had ten thousand a year.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_415">{415}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_LIV"></a><img src="images/i_444_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“Jane happened to look round.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER LIV.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_444_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="A"></span>S soon as they were gone, Elizabeth walked out to recover her spirits;
-or, in other words, to dwell without interruption on those subjects
-which must deaden them more. Mr. Darcy’s behaviour astonished and vexed
-her.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent,” said she,
-“did he come at all?”</p>
-
-<p>She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure.</p>
-
-<p>“He could be still amiable, still pleasing to my uncle and aunt, when he
-was in town; and why not to me?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_416">{416}</a></span> If he fears me, why come hither? If he
-no longer cares for me, why silent? Teasing, teasing man! I will think
-no more about him.”</p>
-
-<p>Her resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept by the approach
-of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful look which showed her
-better satisfied with their visitors than Elizabeth.</p>
-
-<p>“Now,” said she, “that this first meeting is over, I feel perfectly
-easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be embarrassed again by
-his coming. I am glad he dines here on Tuesday. It will then be publicly
-seen, that on both sides we meet only as common and indifferent
-acquaintance.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, very indifferent, indeed,” said Elizabeth, laughingly. “Oh, Jane!
-take care.”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak as to be in danger now.”</p>
-
-<p>“I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with
-you as ever.”</p>
-
-<p>They did not see the gentlemen again till Tuesday; and Mrs. Bennet, in
-the meanwhile, was giving way to all the happy schemes which the
-good-humour and common politeness of Bingley, in half an hour’s visit,
-had revived.</p>
-
-<p>On Tuesday there was a large party assembled at Longbourn; and the two
-who were most anxiously expected, to the credit of their punctuality as
-sportsmen, were in very good time. When they repaired to the
-dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to see whether Bingley would take
-the place which, in all their former parties, had belonged to him, by
-her sister. Her prudent mother, occupied by the same ideas, forbore to
-invite him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_417">{417}</a></span> seemed to
-hesitate; but Jane happened to look round, and happened to smile: it was
-decided. He placed himself by her.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth, with a triumphant sensation, looked towards his friend. He
-bore it with noble indifference; and she would have imagined that
-Bingley had received his sanction to be happy, had she not seen his eyes
-likewise turned towards Mr. Darcy, with an expression of half-laughing
-alarm.</p>
-
-<p>His behaviour to her sister was such during dinnertime as showed an
-admiration of her, which, though more guarded than formerly, persuaded
-Elizabeth, that, if left wholly to himself, Jane’s happiness, and his
-own, would be speedily secured. Though she dared not depend upon the
-consequence, she yet received pleasure from observing his behaviour. It
-gave her all the animation that her spirits could boast; for she was in
-no cheerful humour. Mr. Darcy was almost as far from her as the table
-could divide them. He was on one side of her mother. She knew how little
-such a situation would give pleasure to either, or make either appear to
-advantage. She was not near enough to hear any of their discourse; but
-she could see how seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal and
-cold was their manner whenever they did. Her mother’s ungraciousness
-made the sense of what they owed him more painful to Elizabeth’s mind;
-and she would, at times, have given anything to be privileged to tell
-him, that his kindness was neither unknown nor unfelt by the whole of
-the family.</p>
-
-<p>She was in hopes that the evening would afford some opportunity of
-bringing them together; that the whole of the visit would not pass away
-without enabling them<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_418">{418}</a></span> to enter into something more of conversation,
-than the mere ceremonious salutation attending his entrance. Anxious and
-uneasy, the period which passed in the drawing-room before the gentlemen
-came, was wearisome and dull to a degree that almost made her uncivil.
-She looked forward to their entrance as the point on which all her
-chance of pleasure for the evening must depend.</p>
-
-<p>“If he does not come to me, <i>then</i>,” said she, “I shall give him up for
-ever.”</p>
-
-<p>The gentlemen came; and she thought he looked as if he would have
-answered her hopes; but, alas! the ladies had crowded round the table,
-where Miss Bennet was making tea, and Elizabeth pouring out the coffee,
-in so close a confederacy, that there was not a single vacancy near her
-which would admit of a chair. And on the gentlemen’s approaching, one of
-the girls moved closer to her than ever, and said, in a whisper,—</p>
-
-<p>“The men shan’t come and part us, I am determined. We want none of them;
-do we?”</p>
-
-<p>Darcy had walked away to another part of the room. She followed him with
-her eyes, envied everyone to whom he spoke, had scarcely patience enough
-to help anybody to coffee, and then was enraged against herself for
-being so silly!</p>
-
-<p>“A man who has once been refused! How could I ever be foolish enough to
-expect a renewal of his love? Is there one among the sex who would not
-protest against such a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman?
-There is no indignity so abhorrent to their feelings.”</p>
-
-<p>She was a little revived, however, by his bringing back his coffee-cup
-himself; and she seized the opportunity of saying,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_419">{419}</a></span>—</p>
-
-<p>“Is your sister at Pemberley still?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; she will remain there till Christmas.”</p>
-
-<p>“And quite alone? Have all her friends left her?”</p>
-
-<p>“Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others have been gone on to Scarborough
-these three weeks.”</p>
-
-<p>She could think of nothing more to say; but if he wished to converse
-with her, he might have better success. He stood by her, however, for
-some minutes, in silence; and, at last, on the young lady’s whispering
-to Elizabeth again, he walked away.</p>
-
-<p>When the tea things were removed, and the card tables placed, the ladies
-all rose; and Elizabeth was then hoping to be soon joined by him, when
-all her views were overthrown, by seeing him fall a victim to her
-mother’s rapacity for whist players, and in a few moments after seated
-with the rest of the party. She now lost every expectation of pleasure.
-They were confined for the evening at different tables; and she had
-nothing to hope, but that his eyes were so often turned towards her side
-of the room, as to make him play as unsuccessfully as herself.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the two Netherfield gentlemen to
-supper; but their carriage was, unluckily, ordered before any of the
-others, and she had no opportunity of detaining them.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, girls,” said she, as soon as they were left to themselves, “what
-say you to the day? I think everything has passed off uncommonly well, I
-assure you. The dinner was as well dressed as any I ever saw. The
-venison was roasted to a turn—and everybody said, they never saw so fat
-a haunch. The soup was fifty times better than what we had at the
-Lucases’ last week; and even Mr. Darcy acknowledged that the partridges
-were<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_420">{420}</a></span> remarkably well done; and I suppose he has two or three French
-cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look in greater
-beauty. Mrs. Long said so too, for I asked her whether you did not. And
-what do you think she said besides? ‘Ah! Mrs. Bennet, we shall have her
-at Netherfield at last!’ She did, indeed. I do think Mrs. Long is as
-good a creature as ever lived—and her nieces are very pretty behaved
-girls, and not at all handsome: I like them prodigiously.”</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 476px;">
-<img src="images/i_449.jpg" width="476" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-<p>“M<sup>rs</sup>. Long and her nieces.”</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_421">{421}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits: she had seen enough of
-Bingley’s behaviour to Jane to be convinced that she would get him at
-last; and her expectations of advantage to her family, when in a happy
-humour, were so far beyond reason, that she was quite disappointed at
-not seeing him there again the next day, to make his proposals.</p>
-
-<p>“It has been a very agreeable day,” said Miss Bennet to Elizabeth. “The
-party seemed so well selected, so suitable one with the other. I hope we
-may often meet again.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth smiled.</p>
-
-<p>“Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not suspect me. It mortifies me. I
-assure you that I have now learnt to enjoy his conversation as an
-agreeable and sensible young man without having a wish beyond it. I am
-perfectly satisfied, from what his manners now are, that he never had
-any design of engaging my affection. It is only that he is blessed with
-greater sweetness of address, and a stronger desire of generally
-pleasing, than any other man.”</p>
-
-<p>“You are very cruel,” said her sister, “you will not let me smile, and
-are provoking me to it every moment.”</p>
-
-<p>“How hard it is in some cases to be believed! And how impossible in
-others! But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I
-acknowledge?”</p>
-
-<p>“That is a question which I hardly know how to answer. We all love to
-instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth knowing. Forgive
-me; and if you persist in indifference, do not make <i>me</i> your
-confidante.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_422">{422}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_LV"></a><img src="images/i_451_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak to you.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER LV.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_451_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="A"></span> FEW days after this visit, Mr. Bingley called again, and alone. His
-friend had left him that morning for London, but was to return home in
-ten days’ time. He sat with them above an hour, and was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_423">{423}</a></span> in remarkably
-good spirits. Mrs. Bennet invited him to dine with them; but, with many
-expressions of concern, he confessed himself engaged elsewhere.</p>
-
-<p>“Next time you call,” said she, “I hope we shall be more lucky.”</p>
-
-<p>He should be particularly happy at any time, etc., etc.; and if she
-would give him leave, would take an early opportunity of waiting on
-them.</p>
-
-<p>“Can you come to-morrow?”</p>
-
-<p>Yes, he had no engagement at all for to-morrow; and her invitation was
-accepted with alacrity.</p>
-
-<p>He came, and in such very good time, that the ladies were none of them
-dressed. In ran Mrs. Bennet to her daughters’ room, in her
-dressing-gown, and with her hair half finished, crying out,—</p>
-
-<p>“My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is come—Mr. Bingley is
-come. He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste. Here, Sarah, come to Miss
-Bennet this moment, and help her on with her gown. Never mind Miss
-Lizzy’s hair.”</p>
-
-<p>“We will be down as soon as we can,” said Jane; “but I dare say Kitty is
-forwarder than either of us, for she went upstairs half an hour ago.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh! hang Kitty! what has she to do with it? Come, be quick, be quick!
-where is your sash, my dear?”</p>
-
-<p>But when her mother was gone, Jane would not be prevailed on to go down
-without one of her sisters.</p>
-
-<p>The same anxiety to get them by themselves was visible again in the
-evening. After tea, Mr. Bennet retired to the library, as was his
-custom, and Mary went upstairs to her instrument. Two obstacles of the
-five being thus removed, Mrs. Bennet sat looking and winking at
-Elizabeth and Catherine for a considerable time, without<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_424">{424}</a></span> making any
-impression on them. Elizabeth would not observe her; and when at last
-Kitty did, she very innocently said, “What is the matter, mamma? What do
-you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?”</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing, child, nothing. I did not wink at you.” She then sat still
-five minutes longer; but unable to waste such a precious occasion, she
-suddenly got up, and saying to Kitty,—</p>
-
-<p>“Come here, my love, I want to speak to you,” took her out of the room.
-Jane instantly gave a look at Elizabeth which spoke her distress at such
-premeditation, and her entreaty that <i>she</i> would not give in to it. In a
-few minutes, Mrs. Bennet half opened the door and called out,—</p>
-
-<p>“Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was forced to go.</p>
-
-<p>“We may as well leave them by themselves, you know,” said her mother as
-soon as she was in the hall. “Kitty and I are going upstairs to sit in
-my dressing-room.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth made no attempt to reason with her mother, but remained
-quietly in the hall till she and Kitty were out of sight, then returned
-into the drawing-room.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet’s schemes for this day were ineffectual. Bingley was
-everything that was charming, except the professed lover of her
-daughter. His ease and cheerfulness rendered him a most agreeable
-addition to their evening party; and he bore with the ill-judged
-officiousness of the mother, and heard all her silly remarks with a
-forbearance and command of countenance particularly grateful to the
-daughter.</p>
-
-<p>He scarcely needed an invitation to stay supper; and before he went away
-an engagement was formed, chiefly through his own and Mrs. Bennet’s
-means, for his coming next morning to shoot with her husband.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_425">{425}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>After this day, Jane said no more of her indifference. Not a word passed
-between the sisters concerning Bingley; but Elizabeth went to bed in the
-happy belief that all must speedily be concluded, unless Mr. Darcy
-returned within the stated time. Seriously, however, she felt tolerably
-persuaded that all this must have taken place with that gentleman’s
-concurrence.</p>
-
-<p>Bingley was punctual to his appointment; and he and Mr. Bennet spent the
-morning together, as had been agreed on. The latter was much more
-agreeable than his companion expected. There was nothing of presumption
-or folly in Bingley that could provoke his ridicule, or disgust him into
-silence; and he was more communicative, and less eccentric, than the
-other had ever seen him. Bingley of course returned with him to dinner;
-and in the evening Mrs. Bennet’s invention was again at work to get
-everybody away from him and her daughter. Elizabeth, who had a letter to
-write, went into the breakfast-room for that purpose soon after tea; for
-as the others were all going to sit down to cards, she could not be
-wanted to counteract her mother’s schemes.</p>
-
-<p>But on her returning to the drawing-room, when her letter was finished,
-she saw, to her infinite surprise, there was reason to fear that her
-mother had been too ingenious for her. On opening the door, she
-perceived her sister and Bingley standing together over the hearth, as
-if engaged in earnest conversation; and had this led to no suspicion,
-the faces of both, as they hastily turned round and moved away from each
-other, would have told it all. <i>Their</i> situation was awkward enough; but
-<i>hers</i> she thought was still worse. Not a syllable was uttered by
-either; and Elizabeth was on the point of going away again, when
-Bingley, who as well as the other had sat<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_426">{426}</a></span> down, suddenly rose, and,
-whispering a few words to her sister, ran out of the room.</p>
-
-<p>Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth, where confidence would give
-pleasure; and, instantly embracing her, acknowledged, with the liveliest
-emotion, that she was the happiest creature in the world.</p>
-
-<p>“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis too much!” she added, “by far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh,
-why is not everybody as happy?”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth’s congratulations were given with a sincerity, a warmth, a
-delight, which words could but poorly express. Every sentence of
-kindness was a fresh source of happiness to Jane. But she would not
-allow herself to stay with her sister, or say half that remained to be
-said, for the present.</p>
-
-<p>“I must go instantly to my mother,” she cried. “I would not on any
-account trifle with her affectionate solicitude, or allow her to hear it
-from anyone but myself. He is gone to my father already. Oh, Lizzy, to
-know that what I have to relate will give such pleasure to all my dear
-family! how shall I bear so much happiness?”</p>
-
-<p>She then hastened away to her mother, who had purposely broken up the
-card-party, and was sitting upstairs with Kitty.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth, who was left by herself, now smiled at the rapidity and ease
-with which an affair was finally settled, that had given them so many
-previous months of suspense and vexation.</p>
-
-<p>“And this,” said she, “is the end of all his friend’s anxious
-circumspection! of all his sister’s falsehood and contrivance! the
-happiest, wisest, and most reasonable end!”</p>
-
-<p>In a few minutes she was joined by Bingley, whose<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_427">{427}</a></span> conference with her
-father had been short and to the purpose.</p>
-
-<p>“Where is your sister?” said he hastily, as he opened the door.</p>
-
-<p>“With my mother upstairs. She will be down in a moment, I dare say.”</p>
-
-<p>He then shut the door, and, coming up to her, claimed the good wishes
-and affection of a sister. Elizabeth honestly and heartily expressed her
-delight in the prospect of their relationship. They shook hands with
-great cordiality; and then, till her sister came down, she had to listen
-to all he had to say of his own happiness, and of Jane’s perfections;
-and in spite of his being a lover, Elizabeth really believed all his
-expectations of felicity to be rationally founded, because they had for
-basis the excellent understanding and super-excellent disposition of
-Jane, and a general similarity of feeling and taste between her and
-himself.</p>
-
-<p>It was an evening of no common delight to them all; the satisfaction of
-Miss Bennet’s mind gave such a glow of sweet animation to her face, as
-made her look handsomer than ever. Kitty simpered and smiled, and hoped
-her turn was coming soon. Mrs. Bennet could not give her consent, or
-speak her approbation in terms warm enough to satisfy her feelings,
-though she talked to Bingley of nothing else, for half an hour; and when
-Mr. Bennet joined them at supper, his voice and manner plainly showed
-how really happy he was.</p>
-
-<p>Not a word, however, passed his lips in allusion to it, till their
-visitor took his leave for the night; but as soon as he was gone, he
-turned to his daughter and said,—</p>
-
-<p>“Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_428">{428}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Jane went to him instantly, kissed him, and thanked him for his
-goodness.</p>
-
-<p>“You are a good girl,” he replied, “and I have great pleasure in
-thinking you will be so happily settled. I have not a doubt of your
-doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means unlike. You are
-each of you so complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so
-easy, that every servant will cheat you; and so generous, that you will
-always exceed your income.”</p>
-
-<p>“I hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness in money matters would be
-unpardonable in <i>me</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>“Exceed their income! My dear Mr. Bennet,” cried his wife, “what are you
-talking of? Why, he has four or five thousand a year, and very likely
-more.” Then addressing her daughter, “Oh, my dear, dear Jane, I am so
-happy! I am sure I shan’t get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it
-would be. I always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not
-be so beautiful for nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw him, when
-he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought how likely it was
-that you should come together. Oh, he is the handsomest young man that
-ever was seen!”</p>
-
-<p>Wickham, Lydia, were all forgotten. Jane was beyond competition her
-favourite child. At that moment she cared for no other. Her younger
-sisters soon began to make interest with her for objects of happiness
-which she might in future be able to dispense.</p>
-
-<p>Mary petitioned for the use of the library at Netherfield; and Kitty
-begged very hard for a few balls there every winter.</p>
-
-<p>Bingley, from this time, was of course a daily visitor at Longbourn;
-coming frequently before breakfast, and always remaining till after
-supper; unless when some<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_429">{429}</a></span> barbarous neighbour, who could not be enough
-detested, had given him an invitation to dinner, which he thought
-himself obliged to accept.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth had now but little time for conversation with her sister; for
-while he was present Jane had no attention to bestow on anyone else: but
-she found herself considerably useful to both of them, in those hours of
-separation that must sometimes occur. In the absence of Jane, he always
-attached himself to Elizabeth for the pleasure of talking of her; and
-when Bingley was gone, Jane constantly sought the same means of relief.</p>
-
-<p>“He has made me so happy,” said she, one evening, “by telling me that he
-was totally ignorant of my being in town last spring! I had not believed
-it possible.”</p>
-
-<p>“I suspected as much,” replied Elizabeth. “But how did he account for
-it?”</p>
-
-<p>“It must have been his sisters’ doing. They were certainly no friends to
-his acquaintance with me, which I cannot wonder at, since he might have
-chosen so much more advantageously in many respects. But when they see,
-as I trust they will, that their brother is happy with me, they will
-learn to be contented, and we shall be on good terms again: though we
-can never be what we once were to each other.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is the most unforgiving speech,” said Elizabeth, “that I ever
-heard you utter. Good girl! It would vex me, indeed, to see you again
-the dupe of Miss Bingley’s pretended regard.”</p>
-
-<p>“Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to town last November he
-really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of <i>my</i> being indifferent
-would have prevented his coming down again?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_430">{430}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“He made a little mistake, to be sure; but it is to the credit of his
-modesty.”</p>
-
-<p>This naturally introduced a panegyric from Jane on his diffidence, and
-the little value he put on his own good qualities.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was pleased to find that he had not betrayed the interference
-of his friend; for, though Jane had the most generous and forgiving
-heart in the world, she knew it was a circumstance which must prejudice
-her against him.</p>
-
-<p>“I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!” cried
-Jane. “Oh, Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family, and blessed
-above them all? If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such
-another man for you!”</p>
-
-<p>“If you were to give me forty such men I never could be so happy as you.
-Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your
-happiness. No, no, let me shift for myself; and, perhaps, if I have very
-good luck, I may meet with another Mr. Collins in time.”</p>
-
-<p>The situation of affairs in the Longbourn family could not be long a
-secret. Mrs. Bennet was privileged to whisper it to Mrs. Philips, and
-she ventured, without any permission, to do the same by all her
-neighbours in Meryton.</p>
-
-<p>The Bennets were speedily pronounced to be the luckiest family in the
-world; though only a few weeks before, when Lydia had first run away,
-they had been generally proved to be marked out for misfortune.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_431">{431}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_LVI"></a><img src="images/i_460_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER LVI.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_460_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="O"></span>NE morning, about a week after Bingley’s engagement with Jane had been
-formed, as he and the females of the family were sitting together in the
-dining-room, their attention was suddenly drawn to the window by the
-sound of a carriage; and they perceived a chaise and four driving up the
-lawn. It was too early in the morning for visitors; and besides, the
-equipage did not answer to that of any of their neighbours. The horses
-were post; and neither the carriage, nor the livery of the servant who
-preceded it, were familiar to them. As<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_432">{432}</a></span> it was certain, however, that
-somebody was coming, Bingley instantly prevailed on Miss Bennet to avoid
-the confinement of such an intrusion, and walk away with him into the
-shrubbery. They both set off; and the conjectures of the remaining three
-continued, though with little satisfaction, till the door was thrown
-open, and their visitor entered. It was Lady Catherine de Bourgh.</p>
-
-<p>They were of course all intending to be surprised: but their
-astonishment was beyond their expectation; and on the part of Mrs.
-Bennet and Kitty, though she was perfectly unknown to them, even
-inferior to what Elizabeth felt.</p>
-
-<p>She entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious, made no
-other reply to Elizabeth’s salutation than a slight inclination of the
-head, and sat down without saying a word. Elizabeth had mentioned her
-name to her mother on her Ladyship’s entrance, though no request of
-introduction had been made.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet, all amazement, though flattered by having a guest of such
-high importance, received her with the utmost politeness. After sitting
-for a moment in silence, she said, very stiffly, to Elizabeth,—</p>
-
-<p>“I hope you are well, Miss Bennet. That lady, I suppose, is your
-mother?”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was.</p>
-
-<p>“And <i>that</i>, I suppose, is one of your sisters?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, madam,” said Mrs. Bennet, delighted to speak to a Lady Catherine.
-“She is my youngest girl but one. My youngest of all is lately married,
-and my eldest is somewhere about the ground, walking with a young man,
-who, I believe, will soon become a part of the family.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_433">{433}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“You have a very small park here,” returned Lady Catherine, after a
-short silence.</p>
-
-<p>“It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my Lady, I dare say; but, I
-assure you, it is much larger than Sir William Lucas’s.”</p>
-
-<p>“This must be a most inconvenient sitting-room for the evening in
-summer: the windows are full west.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet assured her that they never sat there after dinner; and then
-added,—</p>
-
-<p>“May I take the liberty of asking your Ladyship whether you left Mr. and
-Mrs. Collins well?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, very well. I saw them the night before last.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth now expected that she would produce a letter for her from
-Charlotte, as it seemed the only probable motive for her calling. But no
-letter appeared, and she was completely puzzled.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Bennet, with great civility, begged her Ladyship to take some
-refreshment: but Lady Catherine very resolutely, and not very politely,
-declined eating anything; and then, rising up, said to Elizabeth,—</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little wilderness
-on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you
-will favour me with your company.”</p>
-
-<p>“Go, my dear,” cried her mother, “and show her Ladyship about the
-different walks. I think she will be pleased with the hermitage.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth obeyed; and, running into her own room for her parasol,
-attended her noble guest downstairs. As they passed through the hall,
-Lady Catherine opened the doors into the dining-parlour and
-drawing-room, and pronouncing them, after a short survey, to be
-decent-looking rooms, walked on.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_434">{434}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Her carriage remained at the door, and Elizabeth saw that her
-waiting-woman was in it. They proceeded in silence along the gravel walk
-that led to the copse; Elizabeth was determined to make no effort for
-conversation with a woman who was now more than usually insolent and
-disagreeable.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 332px;">
-<img src="images/i_463.jpg" width="332" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<div class="caption">
-
-<p>
-“After a short survey”<br>
-</p>
-
-<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_435">{435}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“How could I ever think her like her nephew?” said she, as she looked in
-her face.</p>
-
-<p>As soon as they entered the copse, Lady Catherine began in the following
-manner:—</p>
-
-<p>“You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my
-journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I
-come.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment.</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed, you are mistaken, madam; I have not been at all able to account
-for the honour of seeing you here.”</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Bennet,” replied her Ladyship, in an angry tone, “you ought to
-know that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere <i>you</i> may
-choose to be, you shall not find <i>me</i> so. My character has ever been
-celebrated for its sincerity and frankness; and in a cause of such
-moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most
-alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told, that not only your
-sister was on the point of being most advantageously married, but that
-<i>you</i>—that Miss Elizabeth Bennet would, in all likelihood, be soon
-afterwards united to my nephew—my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I
-<i>know</i> it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him
-so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on
-setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to
-you.”</p>
-
-<p>“If you believed it impossible to be true,” said Elizabeth, colouring
-with astonishment and disdain, “I wonder you took the trouble of coming
-so far. What could your Ladyship propose by it?”</p>
-
-<p>“At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_436">{436}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family,” said Elizabeth
-coolly, “will be rather a confirmation of it—if, indeed, such a report
-is in existence.”</p>
-
-<p>“If! do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been
-industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a
-report is spread abroad?”</p>
-
-<p>“I never heard that it was.”</p>
-
-<p>“And can you likewise declare, that there is no <i>foundation</i> for it?”</p>
-
-<p>“I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your Ladyship. <i>You</i>
-may ask questions which <i>I</i> shall not choose to answer.”</p>
-
-<p>“This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Has
-he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?”</p>
-
-<p>“Your Ladyship has declared it to be impossible.”</p>
-
-<p>“It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his
-reason. But <i>your</i> arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation,
-have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You
-may have drawn him in.”</p>
-
-<p>“If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such
-language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world,
-and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.”</p>
-
-<p>“But you are not entitled to know <i>mine</i>; nor will such behaviour as
-this ever induce me to be explicit.”</p>
-
-<p>“Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the
-presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is
-engaged to <i>my daughter</i>. Now, what have you to say?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_437">{437}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Only this,—that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will
-make an offer to me.”</p>
-
-<p>Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then replied,—</p>
-
-<p>“The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy,
-they have been intended for each other. It was the favourite wish of
-<i>his</i> mother, as well as of hers. While in their cradles we planned the
-union; and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be
-accomplished, is their marriage to be prevented by a young woman of
-inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to
-the family? Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends—to his
-tacit engagement with Miss de Bourgh? Are you lost to every feeling of
-propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say, that from his
-earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no
-other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be
-kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry
-Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the
-marriage. Its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by
-honour nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make
-another choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?”</p>
-
-<p>“Because honour, decorum, prudence—nay, interest—forbid it. Yes, Miss
-Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by his family or
-friends, if you wilfully act against the inclinations of all. You will
-be censured, slighted, and despised, by everyone connected with him.
-Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned
-by any of us.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_438">{438}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Elizabeth. “But the wife of Mr.
-Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily
-attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause
-to repine.”</p>
-
-<p>“Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude
-for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that
-score? Let us sit down. You are to understand, Miss Bennet, that I came
-here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I
-be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person’s
-whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>That</i> will make your Ladyship’s situation at present more pitiable;
-but it will have no effect on <i>me</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>“I will not be interrupted! Hear me in silence. My daughter and my
-nephew are formed for each other. They are descended, on the maternal
-side, from the same noble line; and, on the father’s, from respectable,
-honourable, and ancient, though untitled, families. Their fortune on
-both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other by the voice of
-every member of their respective houses; and what is to divide
-them?—the upstart pretensions of a young woman without family,
-connections, or fortune! Is this to be endured? But it must not, shall
-not be! If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to
-quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.”</p>
-
-<p>“In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that
-sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman’s daughter; so far we are
-equal.”</p>
-
-<p>“True. You <i>are</i> a gentleman’s daughter. But what was your mother? Who
-are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their
-condition.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_439">{439}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Whatever my connections may be,” said Elizabeth, “if your nephew does
-not object to them, they can be nothing to <i>you</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tell me, once for all, are you engaged to him?”</p>
-
-<p>Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere purpose of obliging Lady
-Catherine, have answered this question, she could not but say, after a
-moment’s deliberation,—</p>
-
-<p>“I am not.”</p>
-
-<p>Lady Catherine seemed pleased.</p>
-
-<p>“And will you promise me never to enter into such an engagement?”</p>
-
-<p>“I will make no promise of the kind.”</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Bennet, I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more
-reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I
-will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given me the
-assurance I require.”</p>
-
-<p>“And I certainly <i>never</i> shall give it. I am not to be intimidated into
-anything so wholly unreasonable. Your Ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to marry
-your daughter; but would my giving you the wished-for promise make
-<i>their</i> marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be attached to
-me, would <i>my</i> refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on
-his cousin? Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with
-which you have supported this extraordinary application have been as
-frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my
-character, if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these.
-How far your nephew might approve of your interference in <i>his</i> affairs,
-I cannot tell; but you have certainly no right to concern yourself in
-mine. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no further on the
-subject.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_440">{440}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done. To all the
-objections I have already urged I have still another to add. I am no
-stranger to the particulars of your youngest sister’s infamous
-elopement. I know it all; that the young man’s marrying her was a
-patched-up business, at the expense of your father and uncle. And is
-<i>such</i> a girl to be my nephew’s sister? Is <i>her</i> husband, who is the son
-of his late father’s steward, to be his brother? Heaven and earth!—of
-what are you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?”</p>
-
-<p>“You can <i>now</i> have nothing further to say,” she resentfully answered.
-“You have insulted me, in every possible method. I must beg to return to
-the house.”</p>
-
-<p>And she rose as she spoke. Lady Catherine rose also, and they turned
-back. Her Ladyship was highly incensed.</p>
-
-<p>“You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my nephew!
-Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that a connection with you
-must disgrace him in the eyes of everybody?”</p>
-
-<p>“Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say. You know my sentiments.”</p>
-
-<p>“You are then resolved to have him?”</p>
-
-<p>“I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that manner,
-which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without
-reference to <i>you</i>, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to obey the
-claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin him in
-the opinion of all his friends, and make him the contempt of the world.”</p>
-
-<p>“Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude,” replied Elizabeth, “has any
-possible claim on me, in the present instance. No principle of either
-would be violated by my<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_441">{441}</a></span> marriage with Mr. Darcy. And with regard to the
-resentment of his family, or the indignation of the world, if the former
-<i>were</i> excited by his marrying me, it would not give me one moment’s
-concern—and the world in general would have too much sense to join in
-the scorn.”</p>
-
-<p>“And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well. I
-shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss Bennet, that your
-ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped to find you
-reasonable; but depend upon it I will carry my point.”</p>
-
-<p>In this manner Lady Catherine talked on till they were at the door of
-the carriage, when, turning hastily round, she added,—</p>
-
-<p>“I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet. I send no compliments to your
-mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth made no answer; and without attempting to persuade her
-Ladyship to return into the house, walked quietly into it herself. She
-heard the carriage drive away as she proceeded upstairs. Her mother
-impatiently met her at the door of her dressing-room, to ask why Lady
-Catherine would not come in again and rest herself.</p>
-
-<p>“She did not choose it,” said her daughter; “she would go.”</p>
-
-<p>“She is a very fine-looking woman! and her calling here was prodigiously
-civil! for she only came, I suppose, to tell us the Collinses were well.
-She is on her road somewhere, I dare say; and so, passing through
-Meryton, thought she might as well call on you. I suppose she had
-nothing particular to say to you, Lizzy?”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was forced to give in to a little falsehood here; for to
-acknowledge the substance of their conversation was impossible.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_442">{442}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_LVII"></a><img src="images/i_471_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“But now it comes out.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER LVII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_471_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="T"></span>HE discomposure of spirits which this extraordinary visit threw
-Elizabeth into could not be easily overcome; nor could she for many
-hours learn to think of it less than incessantly. Lady Catherine, it
-appeared, had actually taken the trouble of this journey from Rosings
-for the sole purpose of breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr.
-Darcy. It was a rational scheme, to be sure! but from what the report of
-their engagement could originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to imagine;
-till she recollected that <i>his</i> being the intimate friend of Bingley,
-and <i>her</i> being the sister of Jane, was enough, at a time when the
-expectation of one wedding made everybody eager for another, to supply
-the idea. She had not herself forgotten to feel that the marriage of her
-sister must bring them more frequently together. And her neighbours at
-Lucas Lodge, therefore, (for through their<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_443">{443}</a></span> communication with the
-Collinses, the report, she concluded, had reached Lady Catherine,) had
-only set <i>that</i> down as almost certain and immediate which <i>she</i> had
-looked forward to as possible at some future time.</p>
-
-<p>In revolving Lady Catherine’s expressions, however, she could not help
-feeling some uneasiness as to the possible consequence of her persisting
-in this interference. From what she had said of her resolution to
-prevent the marriage, it occurred to Elizabeth that she must meditate an
-application to her nephew; and how he might take a similar
-representation of the evils attached to a connection with her she dared
-not pronounce. She knew not the exact degree of his affection for his
-aunt, or his dependence on her judgment, but it was natural to suppose
-that he thought much higher of her Ladyship than <i>she</i> could do; and it
-was certain, that in enumerating the miseries of a marriage with <i>one</i>
-whose immediate connections were so unequal to his own, his aunt would
-address him on his weakest side. With his notions of dignity, he would
-probably feel that the arguments, which to Elizabeth had appeared weak
-and ridiculous, contained much good sense and solid reasoning.</p>
-
-<p>If he had been wavering before, as to what he should do, which had often
-seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so near a relation might
-settle every doubt, and determine him at once to be as happy as dignity
-unblemished could make him. In that case he would return no more. Lady
-Catherine might see him in her way through town; and his engagement to
-Bingley of coming again to Netherfield must give way.</p>
-
-<p>“If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his promise should come to his
-friend within a few days,” she added, “I shall know how to understand
-it. I shall then give<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_444">{444}</a></span> over every expectation, every wish of his
-constancy. If he is satisfied with only regretting me, when he might
-have obtained my affections and hand, I shall soon cease to regret him
-at all.”</p>
-
-<p>The surprise of the rest of the family, on hearing who their visitor had
-been, was very great: but they obligingly satisfied it with the same
-kind of supposition which had appeased Mrs. Bennet’s curiosity; and
-Elizabeth was spared from much teasing on the subject.</p>
-
-<p>The next morning, as she was going down stairs, she was met by her
-father, who came out of his library with a letter in his hand.</p>
-
-<p>“Lizzy,” said he, “I was going to look for you: come into my room.”</p>
-
-<p>She followed him thither; and her curiosity to know what he had to tell
-her was heightened by the supposition of its being in some manner
-connected with the letter he held. It suddenly struck her that it might
-be from Lady Catherine, and she anticipated with dismay all the
-consequent explanations.</p>
-
-<p>She followed her father to the fireplace, and they both sat down. He
-then said,—</p>
-
-<p>“I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me
-exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought to know its
-contents. I did not know before that I had <i>two</i> daughters on the brink
-of matrimony. Let me congratulate you on a very important conquest.”</p>
-
-<p>The colour now rushed into Elizabeth’s cheeks in the instantaneous
-conviction of its being a letter from the nephew, instead of the aunt;
-and she was undetermined whether most to be pleased that he explained
-himself at all, or offended that his letter was not rather addressed to
-herself, when her father continued,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_445">{445}</a></span>—</p>
-
-<p>“You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration in such matters
-as these; but I think I may defy even <i>your</i> sagacity to discover the
-name of your admirer. This letter is from Mr. Collins.”</p>
-
-<p>“From Mr. Collins! and what can <i>he</i> have to say?”</p>
-
-<p>“Something very much to the purpose, of course. He begins with
-congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter, of
-which, it seems, he has been told by some of the good-natured, gossiping
-Lucases. I shall not sport with your impatience by reading what he says
-on that point. What relates to yourself is as follows:—‘Having thus
-offered you the sincere congratulations of Mrs. Collins and myself on
-this happy event, let me now add a short hint on the subject of another,
-of which we have been advertised by the same authority. Your daughter
-Elizabeth, it is presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after
-her eldest sister has resigned it; and the chosen partner of her fate
-may be reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages
-in this land.’ Can you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant by this?
-‘This young gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar way, with everything the
-heart of mortal can most desire,—splendid property, noble kindred, and
-extensive patronage. Yet, in spite of all these temptations, let me warn
-my cousin Elizabeth, and yourself, of what evils you may incur by a
-precipitate closure with this gentleman’s proposals, which, of course,
-you will be inclined to take immediate advantage of.’ Have you any idea,
-Lizzy, who this gentleman is? But now it comes out. ‘My motive for
-cautioning you is as follows:—We have reason to imagine that his aunt,
-Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look on the match with a friendly
-eye.’ <i>Mr. Darcy</i>, you see, is the man! Now, Lizzy, I think<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_446">{446}</a></span> I <i>have</i>
-surprised you. Could he, or the Lucases, have pitched on any man, within
-the circle of our acquaintance, whose name would have given the lie more
-effectually to what they related? Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any
-woman but to see a blemish, and who probably never looked at <i>you</i> in
-his life! It is admirable!”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth tried to join in her father’s pleasantry, but could only force
-one most reluctant smile. Never had his wit been directed in a manner so
-little agreeable to her.</p>
-
-<p>“Are you not diverted?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes. Pray read on.”</p>
-
-<p>“<span class="lftspc">‘</span>After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her Ladyship last
-night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she
-felt on the occasion; when it became apparent, that, on the score of
-some family objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give
-her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. I thought it my
-duty to give the speediest intelligence of this to my cousin, that she
-and her noble admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run
-hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned.’ Mr.
-Collins, moreover, adds, ‘I am truly rejoiced that my cousin Lydia’s sad
-business has been so well hushed up, and am only concerned that their
-living together before the marriage took place should be so generally
-known. I must not, however, neglect the duties of my station, or refrain
-from declaring my amazement, at hearing that you received the young
-couple into your house as soon as they were married. It was an
-encouragement of vice; and had I been the rector of Longbourn, I should
-very strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them as
-a Christian, but never to admit them<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_447">{447}</a></span> in your sight, or allow their
-names to be mentioned in your hearing.’ <i>That</i> is his notion of
-Christian forgiveness! The rest of his letter is only about his dear
-Charlotte’s situation, and his expectation of a young olive-branch. But,
-Lizzy, you look as if you did not enjoy it. You are not going to be
-<i>missish</i>, I hope, and pretend to be affronted at an idle report. For
-what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them
-in our turn?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh,” cried Elizabeth, “I am exceedingly diverted. But it is so
-strange!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, <i>that</i> is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed on any other man
-it would have been nothing; but <i>his</i> perfect indifference and <i>your</i>
-pointed dislike make it so delightfully absurd! Much as I abominate
-writing, I would not give up Mr. Collins’s correspondence for any
-consideration. Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot help giving
-him the preference even over Wickham, much as I value the impudence and
-hypocrisy of my son-in-law. And pray, Lizzy, what said Lady Catherine
-about this report? Did she call to refuse her consent?”</p>
-
-<p>To this question his daughter replied only with a laugh; and as it had
-been asked without the least suspicion, she was not distressed by his
-repeating it. Elizabeth had never been more at a loss to make her
-feelings appear what they were not. It was necessary to laugh when she
-would rather have cried. Her father had most cruelly mortified her by
-what he said of Mr. Darcy’s indifference; and she could do nothing but
-wonder at such a want of penetration, or fear that, perhaps, instead of
-his seeing too <i>little</i>, she might have fancied too <i>much</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_448">{448}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_LVIII"></a><img src="images/i_477_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“The efforts of his aunt.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER LVIII.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_477_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="I"></span>NSTEAD of receiving any such letter of excuse from his friend, as
-Elizabeth half expected Mr. Bingley to do, he was able to bring Darcy
-with him to Longbourn before many days had passed after Lady Catherine’s
-visit. The gentlemen<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_449">{449}</a></span> arrived early; and, before Mrs. Bennet had time to
-tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in
-momentary dread, Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed
-their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in the
-habit of walking, Mary could never spare time, but the remaining five
-set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others to
-outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy
-were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either; Kitty was
-too much afraid of him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly forming a
-desperate resolution; and, perhaps, he might be doing the same.</p>
-
-<p>They walked towards the Lucases’, because Kitty wished to call upon
-Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a general concern,
-when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the
-moment for her resolution to be executed; and while her courage was
-high, she immediately said,—</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, and for the sake of giving
-relief to my own feelings care not how much I may be wounding yours. I
-can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor
-sister. Ever since I have known it I have been most anxious to
-acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest
-of my family I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise
-and emotion, “that you have ever been informed of what may, in a
-mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner
-was so little to be trusted.”</p>
-
-<p>“You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_450">{450}</a></span> first betrayed to
-me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could
-not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again,
-in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced
-you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the
-sake of discovering them.”</p>
-
-<p>“If you <i>will</i> thank me,” he replied, “let it be for yourself alone.
-That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other
-inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your
-<i>family</i> owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought
-only of <i>you</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause,
-her companion added, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your
-feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. <i>My</i>
-affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence
-me on this subject for ever.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of
-his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not
-very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone
-so material a change since the period to which he alluded, as to make
-her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The
-happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never
-felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as
-warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth
-been able to encounter his eyes, she might have seen how well the
-expression of heartfelt delight diffused over his face became him: but
-though she could not look she could listen; and he told her of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_451">{451}</a></span> feelings
-which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection
-every moment more valuable.</p>
-
-<p>They walked on without knowing in what direction. There was too much to
-be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. She
-soon learnt that they were indebted for their present good understanding
-to the efforts of his aunt, who <i>did</i> call on him in her return through
-London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the
-substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on
-every expression of the latter, which, in her Ladyship’s apprehension,
-peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance, in the belief that
-such a relation must assist her endeavours to obtain that promise from
-her nephew which <i>she</i> had refused to give. But, unluckily for her
-Ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise.</p>
-
-<p>“It taught me to hope,” said he, “as I had scarcely ever allowed myself
-to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain, that
-had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have
-acknowledged it to Lady Catherine frankly and openly.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, “Yes, you know enough of
-my <i>frankness</i> to believe me capable of <i>that</i>. After abusing you so
-abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all
-your relations.”</p>
-
-<p>“What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For though your
-accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour
-to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was
-unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”</p>
-
-<p>“We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that
-evening,” said Elizabeth. “The conduct<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_452">{452}</a></span> of neither, if strictly
-examined, will be irreproachable; but since then we have both, I hope,
-improved in civility.”</p>
-
-<p>“I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I
-then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of
-it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your
-reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘Had you behaved in a
-more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can
-scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me; though it was some time, I
-confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice.”</p>
-
-<p>“I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an
-impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such
-a way.”</p>
-
-<p>“I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper
-feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never
-forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible
-way that would induce you to accept me.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at
-all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it.”</p>
-
-<p>Darcy mentioned his letter. “Did it,” said he,—“did it <i>soon</i> make you
-think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its
-contents?”</p>
-
-<p>She explained what its effects on her had been, and how gradually all
-her former prejudices had been removed.</p>
-
-<p>“I knew,” said he, “that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was
-necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part,
-especially the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power
-of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_453">{453}</a></span> reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly
-make you hate me.”</p>
-
-<p>“The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it essential to the
-preservation of my regard; but, though we have both reason to think my
-opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily
-changed as that implies.”</p>
-
-<p>“When I wrote that letter,” replied Darcy, “I believed myself perfectly
-calm and cool; but I am since convinced that it was written in a
-dreadful bitterness of spirit.”</p>
-
-<p>“The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The
-adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings
-of the person who wrote and the person who received it are now so widely
-different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance
-attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my
-philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you
-pleasure.”</p>
-
-<p>“I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. <i>Your</i>
-retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment
-arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of
-ignorance. But with <i>me</i>, it is not so. Painful recollections will
-intrude, which cannot, which ought not to be repelled. I have been a
-selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a
-child I was taught what was <i>right</i>, but I was not taught to correct my
-temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride
-and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only <i>child</i>),
-I was spoiled by my parents, who, though good themselves, (my father
-particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable,) allowed, encouraged,
-almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond
-my<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_454">{454}</a></span> own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to
-<i>wish</i> at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with
-my own. Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might
-still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not
-owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most
-advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a
-doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my
-pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”</p>
-
-<p>“Had you then persuaded yourself that I should?”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed I had. What will you think of my vanity? I believed you to be
-wishing, expecting my addresses.”</p>
-
-<p>“My manners must have been in fault, but not intentionally, I assure
-you. I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits might often lead me
-wrong. How you must have hated me after <i>that</i> evening!”</p>
-
-<p>“Hate you! I was angry, perhaps, at first, but my anger soon began to
-take a proper direction.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me when we met at
-Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, indeed, I felt nothing but surprise.”</p>
-
-<p>“Your surprise could not be greater than <i>mine</i> in being noticed by you.
-My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I
-confess that I did not expect to receive <i>more</i> than my due.”</p>
-
-<p>“My object <i>then</i>,” replied Darcy, “was to show you, by every civility
-in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped
-to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you
-see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes
-introduced themselves, I can hardly<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_455">{455}</a></span> tell, but I believe in about half
-an hour after I had seen you.”</p>
-
-<p>He then told her of Georgiana’s delight in her acquaintance, and of her
-disappointment at its sudden interruption; which naturally leading to
-the cause of that interruption, she soon learnt that his resolution of
-following her from Derbyshire in quest of her sister had been formed
-before he quitted the inn, and that his gravity and thoughtfulness there
-had arisen from no other struggles than what such a purpose must
-comprehend.</p>
-
-<p>She expressed her gratitude again, but it was too painful a subject to
-each to be dwelt on farther.</p>
-
-<p>After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy to know
-anything about it, they found at last, on examining their watches, that
-it was time to be at home.</p>
-
-<p>“What could have become of Mr. Bingley and Jane?” was a wonder which
-introduced the discussion of <i>their</i> affairs. Darcy was delighted with
-their engagement; his friend had given him the earliest information of
-it.</p>
-
-<p>“I must ask whether you were surprised?” said Elizabeth.</p>
-
-<p>“Not at all. When I went away, I felt that it would soon happen.”</p>
-
-<p>“That is to say, you had given your permission. I guessed as much.” And
-though he exclaimed at the term, she found that it had been pretty much
-the case.</p>
-
-<p>“On the evening before my going to London,” said he, “I made a
-confession to him, which I believe I ought to have made long ago. I told
-him of all that had occurred to make my former interference in his
-affairs absurd and impertinent. His surprise was great. He had never had
-the slightest suspicion. I told him, moreover, that I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_456">{456}</a></span> believed myself
-mistaken in supposing, as I had done, that your sister was indifferent
-to him; and as I could easily perceive that his attachment to her was
-unabated, I felt no doubt of their happiness together.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth could not help smiling at his easy manner of directing his
-friend.</p>
-
-<p>“Did you speak from your own observation,” said she, “when you told him
-that my sister loved him, or merely from my information last spring?”</p>
-
-<p>“From the former. I had narrowly observed her, during the two visits
-which I had lately made her here; and I was convinced of her affection.”</p>
-
-<p>“And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried immediate conviction to
-him.”</p>
-
-<p>“It did. Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. His diffidence had
-prevented his depending on his own judgment in so anxious a case, but
-his reliance on mine made everything easy. I was obliged to confess one
-thing, which for a time, and not unjustly, offended him. I could not
-allow myself to conceal that your sister had been in town three months
-last winter, that I had known it, and purposely kept it from him. He was
-angry. But his anger, I am persuaded, lasted no longer than he remained
-in any doubt of your sister’s sentiments. He has heartily forgiven me
-now.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth longed to observe that Mr. Bingley had been a most delightful
-friend; so easily guided that his worth was invaluable; but she checked
-herself. She remembered that he had yet to learn to be laughed at, and
-it was rather too early to begin. In anticipating the happiness of
-Bingley, which of course was to be inferior only to his own, he
-continued the conversation till they reached the house. In the hall they
-parted.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_457">{457}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_LIX"></a><img src="images/i_486_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“Unable to utter a syllable.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER LIX.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-“<img src="images/i_486_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="M"></span>Y dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to?” was a question
-which Elizabeth received from Jane as soon as she entered the room, and
-from all the others when they sat down to table. She had only to say in
-reply, that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_458">{458}</a></span> they had wandered about till she was beyond her own
-knowledge. She coloured as she spoke; but neither that, nor anything
-else, awakened a suspicion of the truth.</p>
-
-<p>The evening passed quietly, unmarked by anything extraordinary. The
-acknowledged lovers talked and laughed; the unacknowledged were silent.
-Darcy was not of a disposition in which happiness overflows in mirth;
-and Elizabeth, agitated and confused, rather <i>knew</i> that she was happy
-than <i>felt</i> herself to be so; for, besides the immediate embarrassment,
-there were other evils before her. She anticipated what would be felt in
-the family when her situation became known: she was aware that no one
-liked him but Jane; and even feared that with the others it was a
-<i>dislike</i> which not all his fortune and consequence might do away.</p>
-
-<p>At night she opened her heart to Jane. Though suspicion was very far
-from Miss Bennet’s general habits, she was absolutely incredulous here.</p>
-
-<p>“You are joking, Lizzy. This cannot be! Engaged to Mr. Darcy! No, no,
-you shall not deceive me: I know it to be impossible.”</p>
-
-<p>“This is a wretched beginning, indeed! My sole dependence was on you;
-and I am sure nobody else will believe me, if you do not. Yet, indeed, I
-am in earnest. I speak nothing but the truth. He still loves me, and we
-are engaged.”</p>
-
-<p>Jane looked at her doubtingly. “Oh, Lizzy! it cannot be. I know how much
-you dislike him.”</p>
-
-<p>“You know nothing of the matter. <i>That</i> is all to be forgot. Perhaps I
-did not always love him so well as I do now; but in such cases as these
-a good memory is unpardonable. This is the last time I shall ever
-remember it myself.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_459">{459}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bennet still looked all amazement. Elizabeth again, and more
-seriously, assured her of its truth.</p>
-
-<p>“Good heaven! can it be really so? Yet now I must believe you,” cried
-Jane. “My dear, dear Lizzy, I would, I do congratulate you; but are you
-certain—forgive the question—are you quite certain that you can be
-happy with him?”</p>
-
-<p>“There can be no doubt of that. It is settled between us already that we
-are to be the happiest couple in the world. But are you pleased, Jane?
-Shall you like to have such a brother?”</p>
-
-<p>“Very, very much. Nothing could give either Bingley or myself more
-delight. But we considered it, we talked of it as impossible. And do you
-really love him quite well enough? Oh, Lizzy! do anything rather than
-marry without affection. Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought
-to do?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes! You will only think I feel <i>more</i> than I ought to do when I
-tell you all.”</p>
-
-<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I must confess that I love him better than I do Bingley. I am
-afraid you will be angry.”</p>
-
-<p>“My dearest sister, now be, <i>be</i> serious. I want to talk very seriously.
-Let me know everything that I am to know without delay. Will you tell me
-how long you have loved him?”</p>
-
-<p>“It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began;
-but I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds
-at Pemberley.”</p>
-
-<p>Another entreaty that she would be serious, however, produced the
-desired effect; and she soon satisfied Jane by her solemn assurances of
-attachment. When convinced on that article, Miss Bennet had nothing
-further to wish.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_460">{460}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Now I am quite happy,” said she, “for you will be as happy as myself. I
-always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but his love of you, I
-must always have esteemed him; but now, as Bingley’s friend and your
-husband, there can be only Bingley and yourself more dear to me. But,
-Lizzy, you have been very sly, very reserved with me. How little did you
-tell me of what passed at Pemberley and Lambton! I owe all that I know
-of it to another, not to you.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth told her the motives of her secrecy. She had been unwilling to
-mention Bingley; and the unsettled state of her own feelings had made
-her equally avoid the name of his friend: but now she would no longer
-conceal from her his share in Lydia’s marriage. All was acknowledged,
-and half the night spent in conversation.</p>
-
-<p>“Good gracious!” cried Mrs. Bennet, as she stood at a window the next
-morning, “if that disagreeable Mr. Darcy is not coming here again with
-our dear Bingley! What can he mean by being so tiresome as to be always
-coming here? I had no notion but he would go a-shooting, or something or
-other, and not disturb us with his company. What shall we do with him?
-Lizzy, you must walk out with him again, that he may not be in Bingley’s
-way.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth could hardly help laughing at so convenient a proposal; yet
-was really vexed that her mother should be always giving him such an
-epithet.</p>
-
-<p>As soon as they entered, Bingley looked at her so expressively, and
-shook hands with such warmth, as left no doubt of his good information;
-and he soon afterwards said aloud, “Mrs. Bennet, have you no more lanes
-hereabouts in which Lizzy may lose her way again to-day?”</p>
-
-<p>“I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty,” said Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_461">{461}</a></span> Bennet, “to walk
-to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk, and Mr. Darcy has
-never seen the view.”</p>
-
-<p>“It may do very well for the others,” replied Mr. Bingley; “but I am
-sure it will be too much for Kitty. Won’t it, Kitty?”</p>
-
-<p>Kitty owned that she had rather stay at home. Darcy professed a great
-curiosity to see the view from the Mount, and Elizabeth silently
-consented. As she went upstairs to get ready, Mrs. Bennet followed her,
-saying,—</p>
-
-<p>“I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have that
-disagreeable man all to yourself; but I hope you will not mind it. It is
-all for Jane’s sake, you know; and there is no occasion for talking to
-him except just now and then; so do not put yourself to inconvenience.”</p>
-
-<p>During their walk, it was resolved that Mr. Bennet’s consent should be
-asked in the course of the evening: Elizabeth reserved to herself the
-application for her mother’s. She could not determine how her mother
-would take it; sometimes doubting whether all his wealth and grandeur
-would be enough to overcome her abhorrence of the man; but whether she
-were violently set against the match, or violently delighted with it, it
-was certain that her manner would be equally ill adapted to do credit to
-her sense; and she could no more bear that Mr. Darcy should hear the
-first raptures of her joy, than the first vehemence of her
-disapprobation.</p>
-
-<p>In the evening, soon after Mr. Bennet withdrew to the library, she saw
-Mr. Darcy rise also and follow him, and her agitation on seeing it was
-extreme. She did not fear her father’s opposition, but he was going to
-be made unhappy, and that it should be through her means; that <i>she</i>,
-his favourite child, should be distressing him by her choice, should be
-filling him with fears and regrets in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_462">{462}</a></span> disposing of her, was a wretched
-reflection, and she sat in misery till Mr. Darcy appeared again, when,
-looking at him, she was a little relieved by his smile. In a few minutes
-he approached the table where she was sitting with Kitty; and, while
-pretending to admire her work, said in a whisper, “Go to your father; he
-wants you in the library.” She was gone directly.</p>
-
-<p>Her father was walking about the room, looking grave and anxious.
-“Lizzy,” said he, “what are you doing? Are you out of your senses to be
-accepting this man? Have not you always hated him?”</p>
-
-<p>How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had been more
-reasonable, her expressions more moderate! It would have spared her from
-explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give;
-but they were now necessary, and she assured him, with some confusion,
-of her attachment to Mr. Darcy.</p>
-
-<p>“Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be
-sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine carriages than Jane.
-But will they make you happy?”</p>
-
-<p>“Have you any other objection,” said Elizabeth, “than your belief of my
-indifference?”</p>
-
-<p>“None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but
-this would be nothing if you really liked him.”</p>
-
-<p>“I do, I do like him,” she replied, with tears in her eyes; “I love him.
-Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not
-know what he really is; then pray do not pain me by speaking of him in
-such terms.”</p>
-
-<p>“Lizzy,” said her father, “I have given him my consent. He is the kind
-of man, indeed, to whom I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_463">{463}</a></span> should never dare refuse anything, which he
-condescended to ask. I now give it to <i>you</i>, if you are resolved on
-having him. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your
-disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor
-respectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband, unless you looked
-up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the
-greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape
-discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing
-<i>you</i> unable to respect your partner in life. You know not what you are
-about.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in her reply;
-and, at length, by repeated assurances that Mr. Darcy was really the
-object of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her
-estimation of him had undergone, relating her absolute certainty that
-his affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many
-months’ suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities,
-she did conquer her father’s incredulity, and reconcile him to the
-match.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, my dear,” said he, when she ceased speaking, “I have no more to
-say. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could not have parted with
-you, my Lizzy, to anyone less worthy.”</p>
-
-<p>To complete the favourable impression, she then told him what Mr. Darcy
-had voluntarily done for Lydia. He heard her with astonishment.</p>
-
-<p>“This is an evening of wonders, indeed! And so, Darcy did everything;
-made up the match, gave the money, paid the fellow’s debts, and got him
-his commission! So much the better. It will save me a world of trouble
-and economy. Had it been your uncle’s doing, I must and <i>would</i> have
-paid him; but these violent<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_464">{464}</a></span> young lovers carry everything their own
-way. I shall offer to pay him to-morrow, he will rant and storm about
-his love for you, and there will be an end of the matter.”</p>
-
-<p>He then recollected her embarrassment a few days before on his reading
-Mr. Collins’s letter; and after laughing at her some time, allowed her
-at last to go, saying, as she quitted the room, “If any young men come
-for Mary or Kitty, send them in, for I am quite at leisure.”</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth’s mind was now relieved from a very heavy weight; and, after
-half an hour’s quiet reflection in her own room, she was able to join
-the others with tolerable composure. Everything was too recent for
-gaiety, but the evening passed tranquilly away; there was no longer
-anything material to be dreaded, and the comfort of ease and familiarity
-would come in time.</p>
-
-<p>When her mother went up to her dressing-room at night, she followed her,
-and made the important communication. Its effect was most extraordinary;
-for, on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennet sat quite still, and unable to
-utter a syllable. Nor was it under many, many minutes, that she could
-comprehend what she heard, though not in general backward to credit what
-was for the advantage of her family, or that came in the shape of a
-lover to any of them. She began at length to recover, to fidget about in
-her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder, and bless herself.</p>
-
-<p>“Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would
-have thought it? And is it really true? Oh, my sweetest Lizzy! how rich
-and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages
-you will have! Jane’s is nothing to it—nothing at all. I am so
-pleased—so happy. Such a charming man! so handsome! so tall! Oh, my
-dear<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_465">{465}</a></span> Lizzy! pray apologize for my having disliked him so much before. I
-hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Everything
-that is charming! Three daughters married! Ten thousand a year! Oh,
-Lord! what will become of me? I shall go distracted.”</p>
-
-<p>This was enough to prove that her approbation need not be doubted; and
-Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusion was heard only by herself,
-soon went away. But before she had been three minutes in her own room,
-her mother followed her.</p>
-
-<p>“My dearest child,” she cried, “I can think of nothing else. Ten
-thousand a year, and very likely more! ’Tis as good as a lord! And a
-special licence—you must and shall be married by a special licence.
-But, my dearest love, tell me what dish Mr. Darcy is particularly fond
-of, that I may have it to-morrow.”</p>
-
-<p>This was a sad omen of what her mother’s behaviour to the gentleman
-himself might be; and Elizabeth found that, though in the certain
-possession of his warmest affection, and secure of her relations’
-consent, there was still something to be wished for. But the morrow
-passed off much better than she expected; for Mrs. Bennet luckily stood
-in such awe of her intended son-in-law, that she ventured not to speak
-to him, unless it was in her power to offer him any attention, or mark
-her deference for his opinion.</p>
-
-<p>Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her father taking pains to get
-acquainted with him; and Mr. Bennet soon assured her that he was rising
-every hour in his esteem.</p>
-
-<p>“I admire all my three sons-in-law highly,” said he. “Wickham, perhaps,
-is my favourite; but I think I shall like <i>your</i> husband quite as well
-as Jane’s.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_466">{466}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<h2>
-<a id="CHAPTER_LX"></a><img src="images/i_495_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-<br><span class="caption">
-“The obsequious civility.”
-</span>
-<br><br>CHAPTER LX.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_495_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="E"></span>LIZABETH’S spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she wanted Mr.
-Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. “How could
-you begin?” said she. “I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when
-you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first
-place?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_467">{467}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which
-laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I
-knew that I <i>had</i> begun.”</p>
-
-<p>“My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners—my behaviour
-to <i>you</i> was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke
-to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now, be
-sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?”</p>
-
-<p>“For the liveliness of your mind I did.”</p>
-
-<p>“You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was very little less.
-The fact is, that you were sick of civility, of deference, of officious
-attention. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking,
-and looking, and thinking for <i>your</i> approbation alone. I roused and
-interested you, because I was so unlike <i>them</i>. Had you not been really
-amiable you would have hated me for it: but in spite of the pains you
-took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always noble and just; and
-in your heart you thoroughly despised the persons who so assiduously
-courted you. There—I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it;
-and really, all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly
-reasonable. To be sure you know no actual good of me—but nobody thinks
-of <i>that</i> when they fall in love.”</p>
-
-<p>“Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to Jane, while she was
-ill at Netherfield?”</p>
-
-<p>“Dearest Jane! who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it
-by all means. My good qualities are under your protection, and you are
-to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me
-to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may
-be; and I shall begin directly, by asking you what made you so unwilling
-to come to the point at last?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_468">{468}</a></span> What made you so shy of me, when you
-first called, and afterwards dined here? Why, especially, when you
-called, did you look as if you did not care about me?”</p>
-
-<p>“Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement.”</p>
-
-<p>“But I was embarrassed.”</p>
-
-<p>“And so was I.”</p>
-
-<p>“You might have talked to me more when you came to dinner.”</p>
-
-<p>“A man who had felt less might.”</p>
-
-<p>“How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer to give, and that
-I should be so reasonable as to admit it! But I wonder how long you
-<i>would</i> have gone on, if you had been left to yourself. I wonder when
-you <i>would</i> have spoken if I had not asked you! My resolution of
-thanking you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect. <i>Too
-much</i>, I am afraid; for what becomes of the moral, if our comfort
-springs from a breach of promise, for I ought not to have mentioned the
-subject? This will never do.”</p>
-
-<p>“You need not distress yourself. The moral will be perfectly fair. Lady
-Catherine’s unjustifiable endeavours to separate us were the means of
-removing all my doubts. I am not indebted for my present happiness to
-your eager desire of expressing your gratitude. I was not in a humour to
-wait for an opening of yours. My aunt’s intelligence had given me hope,
-and I was determined at once to know everything.”</p>
-
-<p>“Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to make her happy,
-for she loves to be of use. But tell me, what did you come down to
-Netherfield for? Was it merely to ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed?
-or had you intended any more serious consequences?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_469">{469}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“My real purpose was to see <i>you</i>, and to judge, if I could, whether I
-might ever hope to make you love me. My avowed one, or what I avowed to
-myself, was to see whether your sister was still partial to Bingley, and
-if she were, to make the confession to him which I have since made.”</p>
-
-<p>“Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady Catherine what is to
-befall her?”</p>
-
-<p>“I am more likely to want time than courage, Elizabeth. But it ought to
-be done; and if you will give me a sheet of paper it shall be done
-directly.”</p>
-
-<p>“And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you, and
-admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady once did. But
-I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer neglected.”</p>
-
-<p>From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy with Mr. Darcy
-had been overrated, Elizabeth had never yet answered Mrs. Gardiner’s
-long letter; but now, having <i>that</i> to communicate which she knew would
-be most welcome, she was almost ashamed to find that her uncle and aunt
-had already lost three days of happiness, and immediately wrote as
-follows:—</p>
-
-<p>“I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought to have done,
-for your long, kind, satisfactory detail of particulars; but, to say the
-truth, I was too cross to write. You supposed more than really existed.
-But <i>now</i> suppose as much as you choose; give a loose to your fancy,
-indulge your imagination in every possible flight which the subject will
-afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot greatly
-err. You must write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more
-than you did in your last. I thank you again and again, for not going to
-the Lakes. How could I be so<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_470">{470}</a></span> silly as to wish it! Your idea of the
-ponies is delightful. We will go round the park every day. I am the
-happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so
-before, but no one with such justice. I am happier even than Jane; she
-only smiles, I laugh. Mr. Darcy sends you all the love in the world that
-can be spared from me. You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas.
-Yours,” etc.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Darcy’s letter to Lady Catherine was in a different style, and still
-different from either was what Mr. Bennet sent to Mr. Collins, in return
-for his last.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind"> “Dear Sir, </p>
-
-<p>“I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth will
-soon be the wife of Mr. Darcy. Console Lady Catherine as well as
-you can. But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has
-more to give.</p>
-
-<p>
-“Yours sincerely,” etc.<br>
-</p></div>
-
-<p>Miss Bingley’s congratulations to her brother on his approaching
-marriage were all that was affectionate and insincere. She wrote even to
-Jane on the occasion, to express her delight, and repeat all her former
-professions of regard. Jane was not deceived, but she was affected; and
-though feeling no reliance on her, could not help writing her a much
-kinder answer than she knew was deserved.</p>
-
-<p>The joy which Miss Darcy expressed on receiving similar information was
-as sincere as her brother’s in sending it. Four sides of paper were
-insufficient to contain all her delight, and all her earnest desire of
-being loved by her sister.</p>
-
-<p>Before any answer could arrive from Mr. Collins, or any congratulations
-to Elizabeth from his wife, the Longbourn family heard that the
-Collinses were come themselves to Lucas Lodge. The reason of this
-sudden<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_471">{471}</a></span> removal was soon evident. Lady Catherine had been rendered so
-exceedingly angry by the contents of her nephew’s letter, that
-Charlotte, really rejoicing in the match, was anxious to get away till
-the storm was blown over. At such a moment, the arrival of her friend
-was a sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, though in the course of their
-meetings she must sometimes think the pleasure dearly bought, when she
-saw Mr. Darcy exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility of her
-husband. He bore it, however, with admirable calmness. He could even
-listen to Sir William Lucas, when he complimented him on carrying away
-the brightest jewel of the country, and expressed his hopes of their all
-meeting frequently at St. James’s, with very decent composure. If he did
-shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir William was out of sight.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Philips’s vulgarity was another, and, perhaps, a greater tax on his
-forbearance; and though Mrs. Philips, as well as her sister, stood in
-too much awe of him to speak with the familiarity which Bingley’s
-good-humour encouraged; yet, whenever she <i>did</i> speak, she must be
-vulgar. Nor was her respect for him, though it made her more quiet, at
-all likely to make her more elegant. Elizabeth did all she could to
-shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to
-keep him to herself, and to those of her family with whom he might
-converse without mortification; and though the uncomfortable feelings
-arising from all this took from the season of courtship much of its
-pleasure, it added to the hope of the future; and she looked forward
-with delight to the time when they should be removed from society so
-little pleasing to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their
-family party at Pemberley.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_472">{472}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a id="CHAPTER_LXI"></a><img src="images/i_501_a.jpg"
-width="450"
-alt="">
-<br><br>CHAPTER LXI.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">
-<img src="images/i_501_b.png"
-width="100"
-alt="H"></span>APPY for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs. Bennet got
-rid of her two most deserving daughters. With what delighted pride she
-afterwards visited Mrs. Bingley, and talked of Mrs. Darcy, may be
-guessed. I wish I could say, for the sake of her family, that the
-accomplishment of her earnest desire in the establishment of so many of
-her children produced so happy an effect as to make her a sensible,
-amiable, well-informed woman for the rest of her life; though, perhaps,
-it was lucky for her husband, who might not have relished domestic
-felicity in so unusual a form, that she still was occasionally nervous
-and invariably silly.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bennet missed his second daughter exceedingly; his affection for her
-drew him oftener from home than anything else could do. He delighted in
-going to Pemberley, especially when he was least expected.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_473">{473}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield only a twelvemonth. So near
-a vicinity to her mother and Meryton relations was not desirable even to
-<i>his</i> easy temper, or <i>her</i> affectionate heart. The darling wish of his
-sisters was then gratified: he bought an estate in a neighbouring county
-to Derbyshire; and Jane and Elizabeth, in addition to every other source
-of happiness, were within thirty miles of each other.</p>
-
-<p>Kitty, to her very material advantage, spent the chief of her time with
-her two elder sisters. In society so superior to what she had generally
-known, her improvement was great. She was not of so ungovernable a
-temper as Lydia; and, removed from the influence of Lydia’s example, she
-became, by proper attention and management, less irritable, less
-ignorant, and less insipid. From the further disadvantage of Lydia’s
-society she was of course carefully kept; and though Mrs. Wickham
-frequently invited her to come and stay with her, with the promise of
-balls and young men, her father would never consent to her going.</p>
-
-<p>Mary was the only daughter who remained at home; and she was necessarily
-drawn from the pursuit of accomplishments by Mrs. Bennet’s being quite
-unable to sit alone. Mary was obliged to mix more with the world, but
-she could still moralize over every morning visit; and as she was no
-longer mortified by comparisons between her sisters’ beauty and her own,
-it was suspected by her father that she submitted to the change without
-much reluctance.</p>
-
-<p>As for Wickham and Lydia, their characters suffered no revolution from
-the marriage of her sisters. He bore with philosophy the conviction that
-Elizabeth must now become acquainted with whatever of his ingratitude
-and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_474">{474}</a></span> falsehood had before been unknown to her; and, in spite of
-everything, was not wholly without hope that Darcy might yet be
-prevailed on to make his fortune. The congratulatory letter which
-Elizabeth received from Lydia on her marriage explained to her that, by
-his wife at least, if not by himself, such a hope was cherished. The
-letter was to this effect:—</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind"> “My dear Lizzy, </p>
-
-<p>“I wish you joy. If you love Mr. Darcy half so well as I do my dear
-Wickham, you must be very happy. It is a great comfort to have you
-so rich; and when you have nothing else to do, I hope you will
-think of us. I am sure Wickham would like a place at court very
-much; and I do not think we shall have quite money enough to live
-upon without some help. Any place would do of about three or four
-hundred a year; but, however, do not speak to Mr. Darcy about it,
-if you had rather not.</p>
-
-<p class="rt">
-“Yours,” etc.<br>
-</p></div>
-
-<p>As it happened that Elizabeth had much rather not, she endeavoured in
-her answer to put an end to every entreaty and expectation of the kind.
-Such relief, however, as it was in her power to afford, by the practice
-of what might be called economy in her own private expenses, she
-frequently sent them. It had always been evident to her that such an
-income as theirs, under the direction of two persons so extravagant in
-their wants, and heedless of the future, must be very insufficient to
-their support; and whenever they changed their quarters, either Jane or
-herself were sure of being applied to for some little assistance towards
-discharging their bills. Their manner of living, even when the
-restoration of peace dismissed them to a home, was unsettled in the
-extreme. They were always moving from place to place<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_475">{475}</a></span> in quest of a
-cheap situation, and always spending more than they ought. His affection
-for her soon sunk into indifference: hers lasted a little longer; and,
-in spite of her youth and her manners, she retained all the claims to
-reputation which her marriage had given her. Though Darcy could never
-receive <i>him</i> at Pemberley, yet, for Elizabeth’s sake, he assisted him
-further in his profession. Lydia was occasionally a visitor there, when
-her husband was gone to enjoy himself in London or Bath; and with the
-Bingleys they both of them frequently stayed so long, that even
-Bingley’s good-humour was overcome, and he proceeded so far as to <i>talk</i>
-of giving them a hint to be gone.</p>
-
-<p>Miss Bingley was very deeply mortified by Darcy’s marriage; but as she
-thought it advisable to retain the right of visiting at Pemberley, she
-dropped all her resentment; was fonder than ever of Georgiana, almost as
-attentive to Darcy as heretofore, and paid off every arrear of civility
-to Elizabeth.</p>
-
-<p>Pemberley was now Georgiana’s home; and the attachment of the sisters
-was exactly what Darcy had hoped to see. They were able to love each
-other, even as well as they intended. Georgiana had the highest opinion
-in the world of Elizabeth; though at first she often listened with an
-astonishment bordering on alarm at her lively, sportive manner of
-talking to her brother. He, who had always inspired in herself a respect
-which almost overcame her affection, she now saw the object of open
-pleasantry. Her mind received knowledge which had never before fallen in
-her way. By Elizabeth’s instructions she began to comprehend that a
-woman may take liberties with her husband, which a brother will not
-always allow in a sister more than ten years younger than himself.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_476">{476}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Lady Catherine was extremely indignant on the marriage of her nephew;
-and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her character, in
-her reply to the letter which announced its arrangement, she sent him
-language so very abusive, especially of Elizabeth, that for some time
-all intercourse was at an end. But at length, by Elizabeth’s persuasion,
-he was prevailed on to overlook the offence, and seek a reconciliation;
-and, after a little further resistance on the part of his aunt, her
-resentment gave way, either to her affection for him, or her curiosity
-to see how his wife conducted herself; and she condescended to wait on
-them at Pemberley, in spite of that pollution which its woods had
-received, not merely from the presence of such a mistress, but the
-visits of her uncle and aunt from the city.</p>
-
-<p>With the Gardiners they were always on the most intimate terms. Darcy,
-as well as Elizabeth, really loved them; and they were both ever
-sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing
-her into Derbyshire, had been the means of uniting them.</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 345px;">
-<img src="images/i_505.jpg" width="345" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]">
-</div>
-
-<p class="fint">
-CHISWICK PRESS:—CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.<br>
-TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.<br>
-</p>
-
-<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1342 ***</div>
-</body>
-</html>
-
+<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + <head> +<link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> +<meta charset="utf-8"> +<title>Pride and prejudice | Project Gutenberg</title> +<style> + +a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} + + link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} + +a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} + +a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} + +.blk {page-break-before:always;page-break-after:always; +margin:2em auto;} + +.cbig250 {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;font-weight:normal; +font-size:200%;} + +body{margin-left:4%;margin-right:6%;} + +.blockquot {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%;} + +.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} + +.caption {font-weight:normal;} +.caption p{font-size:75%;text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} + +.fint {text-align:center;text-indent:0%; +margin-top:2em;font-size:65%;} + +.figcenter {margin:3% auto 3% auto;clear:both; 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+padding:.5em;margin:1em auto; +max-width:60%;text-align:center; +text-indent:0%;} + +</style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1342 ***</div> + +<hr class="full"> + +<div class="blk"> +<p class="toc"> +<a href="#PREFACE">PREFACE.</a><br> +<a href="#LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS">List of Illustrations.</a><br> +<a href="#Chapter_I">Chapter: I., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">II., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">III., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">V., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">X., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">XXV., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">XXVI., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">XXVII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">XXVIII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">XXIX., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">XXX., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">XXXI., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">XXXII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">XXXIII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">XXXIV., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">XXXV., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">XXXVI., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">XXXVII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">XXXVIII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">XXXIX., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XL">XL., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">XLI., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLII">XLII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII">XLIII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV">XLIV., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLV">XLV., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLVI"> XLVI., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLVII">XLVII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLVIII">XLVIII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIX">XLIX., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_L">L., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_LI">LI., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_LII">LII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_LIII">LIII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_LIV">LIV., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_LV">LV., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_LVI">LVI., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_LVII">LVII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_LVIII">LVIII., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_LIX">LIX., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_LX">LX., </a> +<a href="#CHAPTER_LXI">LXI.</a> +</p> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/cover.jpg"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="550" alt=""></a> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/colophon.png" width="200" alt="[Colophon: GEORGE ALLEN +PUBLISHER + +156 CHARING CROSS ROAD +LONDON]"> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_iv">{iv}</a></span> +<img src="images/i_003.jpg" height="600" alt="Reading Jane’s Letters. Chap 34."> +</div> + +<div class="blk"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_v">{v}</a></span> +<h1><img src="images/front.png" +height="600" +alt=""> +<br><br> +<i>PRIDE.<br> +and<br> +PREJUDICE</i></h1> + +<p class="cbig250"><i> +by<br> +Jane Austen,<br> +<br><small> +with a Preface by</small><br> +George Saintsbury<br> +<small>and<br> +Illustrations by</small><br> +Hugh Thomson<br></i> +</p> + +<table style="font-style:italic;"> +<tr><td class="c">Ruskin<br> +House.</td> +<td> +<img src="images/peacock-1894.png" +style="vertical-align:top;" +height="300" +alt="      "> +</td> +<td class="c"> +156. Charing<br> +Cross Road.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3" class="c"> +London<br> +George Allen.</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p class="c"><small> +CHISWICK PRESS:—CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.<br> +TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.<br></small> +</p> + +<div class="blk"><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_vii">{vii}</a></span> +<p class="c"> + +<img src="images/i_008.png" +width="450" +alt="To J. Comyns Carr +in acknowledgment of all I +owe to his friendship and +advice, these illustrations are +gratefully inscribed + +Hugh Thomson"></p> +</div> + +<h2><a id="PREFACE"></a><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_ix">{ix}</a></span> +<img src="images/i_010.jpg" +width="450" +alt="PREFACE."></h2> + +<p><i><span class="smcap">Walt Whitman</span> has somewhere a fine and just distinction between “loving +by allowance” and “loving with personal love.” This distinction applies +to books as well as to men and women; and in the case of the not very +numerous authors who are the objects of the personal affection, it +brings a curious consequence with it. There is much more difference as +to their best work than in the case of those others who are loved “by +allowance” by convention, and because it is felt to be the right and +proper thing to love them. And in the sect—fairly large and yet +unusually choice—of Austenians or Janites, there would probably be +found partisans of the claim to primacy of almost every one of the +novels. To some the delightful freshness and humour of</i> Northanger +Abbey, <i>its completeness, finish, and</i> entrain, <i>obscure the undoubted +critical facts that its scale is small, and its scheme, after all, that +of burlesque or parody, a kind in which the first rank is reached with +difficulty.</i> Persuasion, <i>relatively faint in tone, and not enthralling +in interest, has devotees who exalt above all the others its exquisite +delicacy and keeping. The catastrophe of</i> Mansfield Park <i>is admittedly +theatrical, the hero and heroine are insipid, and the author has almost<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_x">{x}</a></span> +wickedly destroyed all romantic interest by expressly admitting that +Edmund only took Fanny because Mary shocked him, and that Fanny might +very likely have taken Crawford if he had been a little more assiduous; +yet the matchless rehearsal-scenes and the characters of Mrs. Norris and +others have secured, I believe, a considerable party for it.</i> Sense and +Sensibility <i>has perhaps the fewest out-and-out admirers; but it does +not want them.</i></p> + +<p><i>I suppose, however, that the majority of at least competent votes +would, all things considered, be divided between</i> Emma <i>and the present +book; and perhaps the vulgar verdict (if indeed a fondness for Miss +Austen be not of itself a patent of exemption from any possible charge +of vulgarity) would go for</i> Emma. <i>It is the larger, the more varied, the +more popular; the author had by the time of its composition seen rather +more of the world, and had improved her general, though not her most +peculiar and characteristic dialogue; such figures as Miss Bates, as the +Eltons, cannot but unite the suffrages of everybody. On the other hand, +I, for my part, declare for</i> Pride and Prejudice <i>unhesitatingly. It +seems to me the most perfect, the most characteristic, the most +eminently quintessential of its author’s works; and for this contention +in such narrow space as is permitted to me, I propose here to show +cause.</i></p> + +<p><i>In the first place, the book (it may be barely necessary to remind the +reader) was in its first shape written very early, somewhere about 1796, +when Miss Austen was barely twenty-one; though it was revised and +finished at Chawton some fifteen years later, and was not published till +1813, only four years before her death. I do not know whether, in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xi">{xi}</a></span> this +combination of the fresh and vigorous projection of youth, and the +critical revision of middle life, there may be traced the distinct +superiority in point of construction, which, as it seems to me, it +possesses over all the others. The plot, though not elaborate, is almost +regular enough for Fielding; hardly a character, hardly an incident +could be retrenched without loss to the story. The elopement of Lydia +and Wickham is not, like that of Crawford and Mrs. Rushworth, a</i> coup de +théâtre; <i>it connects itself in the strictest way with the course of the +story earlier, and brings about the denouement with complete propriety. +All the minor passages—the loves of Jane and Bingley, the advent of Mr. +Collins, the visit to Hunsford, the Derbyshire tour—fit in after the +same unostentatious, but masterly fashion. There is no attempt at the +hide-and-seek, in-and-out business, which in the transactions between +Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax contributes no doubt a good deal to the +intrigue of</i> Emma, <i>but contributes it in a fashion which I do not think +the best feature of that otherwise admirable book. Although Miss Austen +always liked something of the misunderstanding kind, which afforded her +opportunities for the display of the peculiar and incomparable talent to +be noticed presently, she has been satisfied here with the perfectly +natural occasions provided by the false account of Darcy’s conduct given +by Wickham, and by the awkwardness (arising with equal naturalness) from +the gradual transformation of Elizabeth’s own feelings from positive +aversion to actual love. I do not know whether the all-grasping hand of +the playwright has ever been laid upon</i> Pride and Prejudice; <i>and I dare +say that,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xii">{xii}</a></span> if it were, the situations would prove not startling or +garish enough for the footlights, the character-scheme too subtle and +delicate for pit and gallery. But if the attempt were made, it would +certainly not be hampered by any of those loosenesses of construction, +which, sometimes disguised by the conveniences of which the novelist can +avail himself, appear at once on the stage.</i></p> + +<p><i>I think, however, though the thought will doubtless seem heretical to +more than one school of critics, that construction is not the highest +merit, the choicest gift, of the novelist. It sets off his other gifts +and graces most advantageously to the critical eye; and the want of it +will sometimes mar those graces—appreciably, though not quite +consciously—to eyes by no means ultra-critical. But a very badly-built +novel which excelled in pathetic or humorous character, or which +displayed consummate command of dialogue—perhaps the rarest of all +faculties—would be an infinitely better thing than a faultless plot +acted and told by puppets with pebbles in their mouths. And despite the +ability which Miss Austen has shown in working out the story, I for one +should put</i> Pride and Prejudice <i>far lower if it did not contain what +seem to me the very masterpieces of Miss Austen’s humour and of her +faculty of character-creation—masterpieces who may indeed admit John +Thorpe, the Eltons, Mrs. Norris, and one or two others to their company, +but who, in one instance certainly, and perhaps in others, are still +superior to them.</i></p> + +<p><i>The characteristics of Miss Austen’s humour are so subtle and delicate +that they are, perhaps, at all times easier to apprehend than to +express, and at any particular<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xiii">{xiii}</a></span> time likely to be differently +apprehended by different persons. To me this humour seems to possess a +greater affinity, on the whole, to that of Addison than to any other of +the numerous species of this great British genus. The differences of +scheme, of time, of subject, of literary convention, are, of course, +obvious enough; the difference of sex does not, perhaps, count for much, +for there was a distinctly feminine element in “Mr. Spectator,” and in +Jane Austen’s genius there was, though nothing mannish, much that was +masculine. But the likeness of quality consists in a great number of +common subdivisions of quality—demureness, extreme minuteness of touch, +avoidance of loud tones and glaring effects. Also there is in both a +certain not inhuman or unamiable cruelty. It is the custom with those +who judge grossly to contrast the good nature of Addison with the +savagery of Swift, the mildness of Miss Austen with the boisterousness +of Fielding and Smollett, even with the ferocious practical jokes that +her immediate predecessor, Miss Burney, allowed without very much +protest. Yet, both in Mr. Addison and in Miss Austen there is, though a +restrained and well-mannered, an insatiable and ruthless delight in +roasting and cutting up a fool. A man in the early eighteenth century, +of course, could push this taste further than a lady in the early +nineteenth; and no doubt Miss Austen’s principles, as well as her heart, +would have shrunk from such things as the letter from the unfortunate +husband in the</i> Spectator, <i>who describes, with all the gusto and all the +innocence in the world, how his wife and his friend induce him to play +at blind-man’s-buff. But another</i> Spectator <i>letter—that of the damsel +of fourteen who<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xiv">{xiv}</a></span> wishes to marry Mr. Shapely, and assures her selected +Mentor that “he admires your</i> Spectators <i>mightily”—might have been +written by a rather more ladylike and intelligent Lydia Bennet in the +days of Lydia’s great-grandmother; while, on the other hand, some (I +think unreasonably) have found “cynicism” in touches of Miss Austen’s +own, such as her satire of Mrs. Musgrove’s self-deceiving regrets over +her son. But this word “cynical” is one of the most misused in the +English language, especially when, by a glaring and gratuitous +falsification of its original sense, it is applied, not to rough and +snarling invective, but to gentle and oblique satire. If cynicism means +the perception of “the other side,” the sense of “the accepted hells +beneath,” the consciousness that motives are nearly always mixed, and +that to seem is not identical with to be—if this be cynicism, then +every man and woman who is not a fool, who does not care to live in a +fool’s paradise, who has knowledge of nature and the world and life, is +a cynic. And in that sense Miss Austen certainly was one. She may even +have been one in the further sense that, like her own Mr. Bennet, she +took an epicurean delight in dissecting, in displaying, in setting at +work her fools and her mean persons. I think she did take this delight, +and I do not think at all the worse of her for it as a woman, while she +was immensely the better for it as an artist.</i></p> + +<p><i>In respect of her art generally, Mr. Goldwin Smith has truly observed +that “metaphor has been exhausted in depicting the perfection of it, +combined with the narrowness of her field;” and he has justly added that +we need not go beyond her own comparison to the art of a miniature<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xv">{xv}</a></span> +painter. To make this latter observation quite exact we must not use the +term miniature in its restricted sense, and must think rather of Memling +at one end of the history of painting and Meissonier at the other, than +of Cosway or any of his kind. And I am not so certain that I should +myself use the word “narrow” in connection with her. If her world is a +microcosm, the cosmic quality of it is at least as eminent as the +littleness. She does not touch what she did not feel herself called to +paint; I am not so sure that she could not have painted what she did not +feel herself called to touch. It is at least remarkable that in two very +short periods of writing—one of about three years, and another of not +much more than five—she executed six capital works, and has not left a +single failure. It is possible that the romantic paste in her +composition was defective: we must always remember that hardly anybody +born in her decade—that of the eighteenth-century +seventies—independently exhibited the full romantic quality. Even Scott +required hill and mountain and ballad, even Coleridge metaphysics and +German to enable them to chip the classical shell. Miss Austen was an +English girl, brought up in a country retirement, at the time when +ladies went back into the house if there was a white frost which might +pierce their kid shoes, when a sudden cold was the subject of the +gravest fears, when their studies, their ways, their conduct were +subject to all those fantastic limits and restrictions against which +Mary Wollstonecraft protested with better general sense than particular +taste or judgment. Miss Austen, too, drew back when the white frost +touched her shoes; but I think she would have made a pretty good journey +even in a black one.</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xvi">{xvi}</a></span></p> + +<p><i>For if her knowledge was not very extended, she knew two things which +only genius knows. The one was humanity, and the other was art. On the +first head she could not make a mistake; her men, though limited, are +true, and her women are, in the old sense, “absolute.” As to art, if she +has never tried idealism, her realism is real to a degree which makes +the false realism of our own day look merely dead-alive. Take almost any +Frenchman, except the late M. de Maupassant, and watch him laboriously +piling up strokes in the hope of giving a complete impression. You get +none; you are lucky if, discarding two-thirds of what he gives, you can +shape a real impression out of the rest. But with Miss Austen the +myriad, trivial, unforced strokes build up the picture like magic. +Nothing is false; nothing is superfluous. When (to take the present book +only) Mr. Collins changed his mind from Jane to Elizabeth “while Mrs. +Bennet was stirring the fire” (and we know</i> how <i>Mrs. Bennet would have +stirred the fire), when Mr. Darcy “brought his coffee-cup back</i> +himself,” <i>the touch in each case is like that of Swift—“taller by the +breadth of my nail”—which impressed the half-reluctant Thackeray with +just and outspoken admiration. Indeed, fantastic as it may seem, I +should put Miss Austen as near to Swift in some ways, as I have put her +to Addison in others.</i></p> + +<p><i>This Swiftian quality appears in the present novel as it appears +nowhere else in the character of the immortal, the ineffable Mr. +Collins. Mr. Collins is really</i> great; <i>far greater than anything Addison +ever did, almost great enough for Fielding or for Swift himself. It has +been said that no one ever was like him. But in the first<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xvii">{xvii}</a></span> place,</i> he +<i>was like him; he is there—alive, imperishable, more real than hundreds +of prime ministers and archbishops, of “metals, semi-metals, and +distinguished philosophers.” In the second place, it is rash, I think, +to conclude that an actual Mr. Collins was impossible or non-existent at +the end of the eighteenth century. It is very interesting that we +possess, in this same gallery, what may be called a spoiled first +draught, or an unsuccessful study of him, in John Dashwood. The +formality, the under-breeding, the meanness, are there; but the portrait +is only half alive, and is felt to be even a little unnatural. Mr. +Collins is perfectly natural, and perfectly alive. In fact, for all the +“miniature,” there is something gigantic in the way in which a certain +side, and more than one, of humanity, and especially eighteenth-century +humanity, its Philistinism, its well-meaning but hide-bound morality, +its formal pettiness, its grovelling respect for rank, its materialism, +its selfishness, receives exhibition. I will not admit that one speech +or one action of this inestimable man is incapable of being reconciled +with reality, and I should not wonder if many of these words and actions +are historically true.</i></p> + +<p><i>But the greatness of Mr. Collins could not have been so satisfactorily +exhibited if his creatress had not adjusted so artfully to him the +figures of Mr. Bennet and of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. The latter, like +Mr. Collins himself, has been charged with exaggeration. There is, +perhaps, a very faint shade of colour for the charge; but it seems to me +very faint indeed. Even now I do not think that it would be impossible +to find persons, especially female persons, not necessarily of noble +birth, as overbearing, as<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xviii">{xviii}</a></span> self-centred, as neglectful of good manners, +as Lady Catherine. A hundred years ago, an earl’s daughter, the Lady +Powerful (if not exactly Bountiful) of an out-of-the-way country parish, +rich, long out of marital authority, and so forth, had opportunities of +developing these agreeable characteristics which seldom present +themselves now. As for Mr. Bennet, Miss Austen, and Mr. Darcy, and even +Miss Elizabeth herself, were, I am inclined to think, rather hard on him +for the “impropriety” of his conduct. His wife was evidently, and must +always have been, a quite irreclaimable fool; and unless he had shot her +or himself there was no way out of it for a man of sense and spirit but +the ironic. From no other point of view is he open to any reproach, +except for an excusable and not unnatural helplessness at the crisis of +the elopement, and his utterances are the most acutely delightful in the +consciously humorous kind—in the kind that we laugh with, not at—that +even Miss Austen has put into the mouth of any of her characters. It is +difficult to know whether he is most agreeable when talking to his wife, +or when putting Mr. Collins through his paces; but the general sense of +the world has probably been right in preferring to the first rank his +consolation to the former when she maunders over the entail, “My dear, +do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for better things. +Let us flatter ourselves that</i> I <i>may be the survivor;” and his inquiry +to his colossal cousin as to the compliments which Mr. Collins has just +related as made by himself to Lady Catherine, “May I ask whether these +pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xix">{xix}</a></span> or are the +result of previous study?” These are the things which give Miss Austen’s +readers the pleasant shocks, the delightful thrills, which are felt by +the readers of Swift, of Fielding, and we may here add, of Thackeray, as +they are felt by the readers of no other English author of fiction +outside of these four.</i></p> + +<p><i>The goodness of the minor characters in</i> Pride and Prejudice <i>has been +already alluded to, and it makes a detailed dwelling on their beauties +difficult in any space, and impossible in this. Mrs. Bennet we have +glanced at, and it is not easy to say whether she is more exquisitely +amusing or more horribly true. Much the same may be said of Kitty and +Lydia; but it is not every author, even of genius, who would have +differentiated with such unerring skill the effects of folly and +vulgarity of intellect and disposition working upon the common +weaknesses of woman at such different ages. With Mary, Miss Austen has +taken rather less pains, though she has been even more unkind to her; +not merely in the text, but, as we learn from those interesting +traditional appendices which Mr. Austen Leigh has given us, in dooming +her privately to marry “one of Mr. Philips’s clerks.” The habits of +first copying and then retailing moral sentiments, of playing and +singing too long in public, are, no doubt, grievous and criminal; but +perhaps poor Mary was rather the scapegoat of the sins of blue stockings +in that Fordyce-belectured generation. It is at any rate difficult not +to extend to her a share of the respect and affection (affection and +respect of a peculiar kind; doubtless), with which one regards Mr. +Collins, when she draws the moral of Lydia’s fall. I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xx">{xx}</a></span> sometimes wish +that the exigencies of the story had permitted Miss Austen to unite +these personages, and thus at once achieve a notable mating and soothe +poor Mrs. Bennet’s anguish over the entail.</i></p> + +<p><i>The Bingleys and the Gardiners and the Lucases, Miss Darcy and Miss de +Bourgh, Jane, Wickham, and the rest, must pass without special comment, +further than the remark that Charlotte Lucas (her egregious papa, though +delightful, is just a little on the thither side of the line between +comedy and farce) is a wonderfully clever study in drab of one kind, and +that Wickham (though something of Miss Austen’s hesitation of touch in +dealing with young men appears) is a not much less notable sketch in +drab of another. Only genius could have made Charlotte what she is, yet +not disagreeable; Wickham what he is, without investing him either with +a cheap Don Juanish attractiveness or a disgusting rascality. But the +hero and the heroine are not tints to be dismissed.</i></p> + +<p><i>Darcy has always seemed to me by far the best and most interesting of +Miss Austen’s heroes; the only possible competitor being Henry Tilney, +whose part is so slight and simple that it hardly enters into +comparison. It has sometimes, I believe, been urged that his pride is +unnatural at first in its expression and later in its yielding, while +his falling in love at all is not extremely probable. Here again I +cannot go with the objectors. Darcy’s own account of the way in which +his pride had been pampered, is perfectly rational and sufficient; and +nothing could be, psychologically speaking, a</i> causa verior <i>for its +sudden restoration to healthy conditions than the shock of Elizabeth’s +scornful refusal acting on a nature</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xxi">{xxi}</a></span> ex hypothesi <i>generous. Nothing in +even our author is finer and more delicately touched than the change of +his demeanour at the sudden meeting in the grounds of Pemberley. Had he +been a bad prig or a bad coxcomb, he might have been still smarting +under his rejection, or suspicious that the girl had come +husband-hunting. His being neither is exactly consistent with the +probable feelings of a man spoilt in the common sense, but not really +injured in disposition, and thoroughly in love. As for his being in +love, Elizabeth has given as just an exposition of the causes of that +phenomenon as Darcy has of the conditions of his unregenerate state, +only she has of course not counted in what was due to her own personal +charm.</i></p> + +<p><i>The secret of that charm many men and not a few women, from Miss Austen +herself downwards, have felt, and like most charms it is a thing rather +to be felt than to be explained. Elizabeth of course belongs to the</i> +allegro <i>or</i> allegra <i>division of the army of Venus. Miss Austen was +always provokingly chary of description in regard to her beauties; and +except the fine eyes, and a hint or two that she had at any rate +sometimes a bright complexion, and was not very tall, we hear nothing +about her looks. But her chief difference from other heroines of the +lively type seems to lie first in her being distinctly clever—almost +strong-minded, in the better sense of that objectionable word—and +secondly in her being entirely destitute of ill-nature for all her +propensity to tease and the sharpness of her tongue. Elizabeth can give +at least as good as she gets when she is attacked; but she never +“scratches,” and she never attacks first. Some of the merest +obsoletenesses of phrase and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xxii">{xxii}</a></span> manner give one or two of her early +speeches a slight pertness, but that is nothing, and when she comes to +serious business, as in the great proposal scene with Darcy (which is, +as it should be, the climax of the interest of the book), and in the +final ladies’ battle with Lady Catherine, she is unexceptionable. Then +too she is a perfectly natural girl. She does not disguise from herself +or anybody that she resents Darcy’s first ill-mannered personality with +as personal a feeling. (By the way, the reproach that the ill-manners of +this speech are overdone is certainly unjust; for things of the same +kind, expressed no doubt less stiltedly but more coarsely, might have +been heard in more than one ball-room during this very year from persons +who ought to have been no worse bred than Darcy.) And she lets the +injury done to Jane and the contempt shown to the rest of her family +aggravate this resentment in the healthiest way in the world.</i></p> + +<p><i>Still, all this does not explain her charm, which, taking beauty as a +common form of all heroines, may perhaps consist in the addition to her +playfulness, her wit, her affectionate and natural disposition, of a +certain fearlessness very uncommon in heroines of her type and age. +Nearly all of them would have been in speechless awe of the magnificent +Darcy; nearly all of them would have palpitated and fluttered at the +idea of proposals, even naughty ones, from the fascinating Wickham. +Elizabeth, with nothing offensive, nothing</i> viraginous, <i>nothing of the +“New Woman” about her, has by nature what the best modern (not “new”) +women have by education and experience, a perfect freedom from the idea +that all men may bully her if they choose, and that most will<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xxiii">{xxiii}</a></span> away with +her if they can. Though not in the least “impudent and mannish grown,” +she has no mere sensibility, no nasty niceness about her. The form of +passion common and likely to seem natural in Miss Austen’s day was so +invariably connected with the display of one or the other, or both of +these qualities, that she has not made Elizabeth outwardly passionate. +But I, at least, have not the slightest doubt that she would have +married Darcy just as willingly without Pemberley as with it, and +anybody who can read between lines will not find the lovers’ +conversations in the final chapters so frigid as they might have looked +to the Della Cruscans of their own day, and perhaps do look to the Della +Cruscans of this.</i></p> + +<p><i>And, after all, what is the good of seeking for the reason of +charm?—it is there. There were better sense in the sad mechanic +exercise of determining the reason of its absence where it is not. In +the novels of the last hundred years there are vast numbers of young +ladies with whom it might be a pleasure to fall in love; there are at +least five with whom, as it seems to me, no man of taste and spirit can +help doing so. Their names are, in chronological order, Elizabeth +Bennet, Diana Vernon, Argemone Lavington, Beatrix Esmond, and Barbara +Grant. I should have been most in love with Beatrix and Argemone; I +should, I think, for mere occasional companionship, have preferred Diana +and Barbara. But to live with and to marry, I do not know that any one +of the four can come into competition with Elizabeth.</i></p> + +<p class="rt"> +<i><span class="smcap">George Saintsbury.</span></i><br> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xxiv">{xxiv}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS"></a><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_xxv">{xxv}</a></span> +<img src="images/i_026.jpg" +width="450" +alt="List of Illustrations."></h2> + +<table> +<tr><td> </td><td><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr><td>Frontispiece</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_iv">iv</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Title-page</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_v">v</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Dedication</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_vii">vii</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Preface</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_ix">ix</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to List of Illustrations</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_xxv">xxv</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter I. </td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“He came down to see the place”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_2">2</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Mr. and Mrs. Bennet</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“I’m the tallest”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“He rode a black horse”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“When the party entered”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_12">12</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“She is tolerable”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_15">15</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter IV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_18">18</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter V.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Without once opening his lips”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_24">24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Tailpiece to Chapter V.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_26">26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter VI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_27">27</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“The entreaties of several”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_31">31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“A note for Miss Bennet”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_36">36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Cheerful prognostics”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“The apothecary came”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_43">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Covering a screen”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_45">45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Mrs. Bennet and her two youngest girls”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter X.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_60">60</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“No, no; stay where you are”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_67">67</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Piling up the fire”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_69">69</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XII.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_75">75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XIII.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_78">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XIV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_84">84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Protested that he never read novels”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_87">87</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_89">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XVI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_95">95</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“The officers of the ——shire”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_97">97</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Delighted to see their dear friend again”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_108">108</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XVIII.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_113">113</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Such very superior dancing is not often seen”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_118">118</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“To assure you in the most animated language”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_132">132</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XX.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_139">139</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“They entered the breakfast-room”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_143">143</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_146">146</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Walked back with them”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_148">148</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXII.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_154">154</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“So much love and eloquence”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_156">156</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Protested he must be entirely mistaken”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_161">161</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Whenever she spoke in a low voice”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_166">166</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXIV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_168">168</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_175">175</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Offended two or three young ladies”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_177">177</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Will you come and see me?”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_181">181</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“On the stairs”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_189">189</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“At the door”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_194">194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“In conversation with the ladies”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_198">198</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Lady Catherine,” said she, “you have given me a treasure”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_200">200</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXX.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_209">209</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“He never failed to inform them”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_211">211</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“The gentlemen accompanied him”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_213">213</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXXI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_215">215</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXXII.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_221">221</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Accompanied by their aunt”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_225">225</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“On looking up”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_228">228</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXXIV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_235">235</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Hearing herself called”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_243">243</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XXXVI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_253">253</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Meeting accidentally in town”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_256">256</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“His parting obeisance”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_261">261</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Dawson”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_263">263</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“The elevation of his feelings”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_267">267</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“They had forgotten to leave any message”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_270">270</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“How nicely we are crammed in!”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_272">272</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XL.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_278">278</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“I am determined never to speak of it again”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_283">283</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“When Colonel Miller’s regiment went away”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_285">285</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Tenderly flirting”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_290">290</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The arrival of the Gardiners</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_294">294</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Conjecturing as to the date”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_301">301</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XLIV.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_318">318</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“To make herself agreeable to all”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_321">321</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Engaged by the river”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_327">327</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XLVI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_334">334</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“I have not an instant to lose”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_339">339</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“The first pleasing earnest of their welcome”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_345">345</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Post</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_359">359</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“To whom I have related the affair”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_363">363</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter XLIX.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_368">368</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“But perhaps you would like to read it”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_370">370</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“The spiteful old ladies”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_377">377</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“With an affectionate smile”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_385">385</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“I am sure she did not listen”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_393">393</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Mr. Darcy with him”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_404">404</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Jane happened to look round”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_415">415</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Mrs. Long and her nieces”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_420">420</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak to you”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_422">422</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter LVI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_431">431</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“After a short survey”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_434">434</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“But now it comes out”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_442">442</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“The efforts of his aunt”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_448">448</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Unable to utter a syllable”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_457">457</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“The obsequious civility”</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_466">466</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heading to Chapter LXI.</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_472">472</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The End</td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_476">476</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_1">{1}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="Chapter_I"></a> +<img src="images/i_030.jpg" +height="550" +alt=""> +<br><br> +Chapter I.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span>T is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession +of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.</p> + +<p>However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his +first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds +of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful +property of some one or other of their daughters.</p> + +<p>“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that +Netherfield Park is let at last?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_2">{2}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.</p> + +<p>“But it is,” returned she; “for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she +told me all about it.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bennet made no answer.</p> + +<p>“Do not you want to know who has taken it?” cried his wife, impatiently.</p> + +<p>“<i>You</i> want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i_031.jpg" width="550" alt=""> +<div class="caption"> + +<p> +“He came down to see the place”<br> +</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>This was invitation enough.</p> + +<p>“Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken +by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came +down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much +delighted with it that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is +to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be +in the house by the end of next week.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_3">{3}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“What is his name?”</p> + +<p>“Bingley.”</p> + +<p>“Is he married or single?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or +five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!”</p> + +<p>“How so? how can it affect them?”</p> + +<p>“My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “how can you be so tiresome? You +must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.”</p> + +<p>“Is that his design in settling here?”</p> + +<p>“Design? Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he +<i>may</i> fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as +soon as he comes.”</p> + +<p>“I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go—or you may send +them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better; for as you are +as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley might like you the best of the +party.”</p> + +<p>“My dear, you flatter me. I certainly <i>have</i> had my share of beauty, but +I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has five +grown-up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty.”</p> + +<p>“In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of.”</p> + +<p>“But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into +the neighbourhood.”</p> + +<p>“It is more than I engage for, I assure you.”</p> + +<p>“But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would +be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, +merely on that account; for in general, you know, they visit no new<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_4">{4}</a></span> +comers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for <i>us</i> to visit +him, if you do not.”</p> + +<p>“You are over scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very +glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my +hearty consent to his marrying whichever he chooses of the girls—though +I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.”</p> + +<p>“I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the +others: and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so +good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving <i>her</i> the preference.”</p> + +<p>“They have none of them much to recommend them,” replied he: “they are +all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy has something more of +quickness than her sisters.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take +delight in vexing me. You have no compassion on my poor nerves.”</p> + +<p>“You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They +are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration +these twenty years at least.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, you do not know what I suffer.”</p> + +<p>“But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four +thousand a year come into the neighbourhood.”</p> + +<p>“It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not +visit them.”</p> + +<p>“Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them +all.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, +reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had +been insufficient to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_5">{5}</a></span> make his wife understand his character. <i>Her</i> mind +was less difficult to develope. She was a woman of mean understanding, +little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she +fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her +daughters married: its solace was visiting and news.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 444px;"> +<img src="images/i_034.jpg" width="444" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"><p>M<sup>r.</sup> & M<sup>rs.</sup> Bennet</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_6">{6}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_II"></a><img src="images/i_035_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<span class="caption"> +I hope Mr. Bingley will like it. +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER II. +</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_035_b.png" +width="100" +alt="M"></span>R. BENNET was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley. He +had always intended to visit him, though to the last always assuring his +wife that he should not go; and till the evening after the visit was +paid she had no knowledge of it. It was then disclosed in the following +manner. Observing his second daughter employed in trimming a hat, he +suddenly addressed her with,—</p> + +<p>“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.”</p> + +<p>“We are not in a way to know <i>what</i> Mr. Bingley likes,” said her mother, +resentfully, “since we are not to visit.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_7">{7}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“But you forget, mamma,” said Elizabeth, “that we shall meet him at the +assemblies, and that Mrs. Long has promised to introduce him.”</p> + +<p>“I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two nieces +of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion +of her.”</p> + +<p>“No more have I,” said Mr. Bennet; “and I am glad to find that you do +not depend on her serving you.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply; but, unable to contain +herself, began scolding one of her daughters.</p> + +<p>“Don’t keep coughing so, Kitty, for heaven’s sake! Have a little +compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.”</p> + +<p>“Kitty has no discretion in her coughs,” said her father; “she times +them ill.”</p> + +<p>“I do not cough for my own amusement,” replied Kitty, fretfully. “When +is your next ball to be, Lizzy?”</p> + +<p>“To-morrow fortnight.”</p> + +<p>“Ay, so it is,” cried her mother, “and Mrs. Long does not come back till +the day before; so, it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for +she will not know him herself.”</p> + +<p>“Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce +Mr. Bingley to <i>her</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him +myself; how can you be so teasing?”</p> + +<p>“I honour your circumspection. A fortnight’s acquaintance is certainly +very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a +fortnight. But if <i>we</i> do not venture, somebody else will; and after +all, Mrs. Long and her nieces must stand their chance; and, therefore,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_8">{8}</a></span> +as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I +will take it on myself.”</p> + +<p>The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only, “Nonsense, +nonsense!”</p> + +<p>“What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?” cried he. “Do +you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on +them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you <i>there</i>. What say you, +Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read +great books, and make extracts.”</p> + +<p>Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how.</p> + +<p>“While Mary is adjusting her ideas,” he continued, “let us return to Mr. +Bingley.”</p> + +<p>“I am sick of Mr. Bingley,” cried his wife.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry to hear <i>that</i>; but why did you not tell me so before? If I +had known as much this morning, I certainly would not have called on +him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we +cannot escape the acquaintance now.”</p> + +<p>The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished—that of Mrs. +Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though when the first tumult of joy +was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the +while.</p> + +<p>“How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should +persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well to +neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! And it is such a +good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning, and never said a +word about it till now.”</p> + +<p>“Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose,” said Mr. Bennet; and, +as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_9">{9}</a></span></p> + +<p>“What an excellent father you have, girls,” said she, when the door was +shut. “I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness; +or me either, for that matter. At our time of life, it is not so +pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances every day; but +for your sakes we would do anything. Lydia, my love, though you <i>are</i> +the youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next +ball.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” said Lydia, stoutly, “I am not afraid; for though I <i>am</i> the +youngest, I’m the tallest.”</p> + +<p>The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he would +return Mr. Bennet’s visit, and determining when they should ask him to +dinner.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 386px;"> +<img src="images/i_038.jpg" width="386" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"><p>“I’m the tallest<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_10">{10}</a></span>”</p></div> +</div> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_III"></a><img src="images/i_039_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +He rode a black horse. +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_039_b.png" +width="100" +alt="N"></span>OT all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five +daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw from her +husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. They attacked him +in various ways, with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and +distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all; and they were at<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_11">{11}</a></span> +last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour, +Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable. Sir William had been +delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely +agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly +with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of +dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively +hopes of Mr. Bingley’s heart were entertained.</p> + +<p>“If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,” +said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well +married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”</p> + +<p>In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet’s visit, and sat about ten +minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being +admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard +much; but he saw only the father. The ladies were somewhat more +fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining, from an upper +window, that he wore a blue coat and rode a black horse.</p> + +<p>An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards despatched; and already had +Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her +housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Bingley +was obliged to be in town the following day, and consequently unable to +accept the honour of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite +disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town +so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that +he might always be flying about from one place to another, and never +settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Lucas quieted her fears a +little by starting the idea of his<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_12">{12}</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 374px;"> +<img src="images/i_041.jpg" width="374" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“When the Party entered”</p></div> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="nind">being gone to London only to get a large party for the ball; and a +report soon followed that Mr. Bingley was to bring twelve ladies and +seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls grieved over such a +number of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_13">{13}</a></span> ladies; but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing +that, instead of twelve, he had brought only six with him from London, +his five sisters and a cousin. And when the party entered the +assembly-room, it consisted of only five altogether: Mr. Bingley, his +two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and another young man.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike: he had a pleasant +countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, +with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely +looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention +of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and +the report, which was in general circulation within five minutes after +his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. The gentlemen +pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was +much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great +admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust +which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be +proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his +large estate in Derbyshire could save him from having a most forbidding, +disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his +friend.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal +people in the room: he was lively and unreserved, danced every dance, +was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one +himself at Netherfield. Such amiable qualities must speak for +themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced +only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being +introduced to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_14">{14}</a></span> any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in +walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party. +His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in +the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again. +Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of +his general behaviour was sharpened into particular resentment by his +having slighted one of her daughters.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit +down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr. Darcy had been +standing near enough for her to overhear a conversation between him and +Mr. Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes to press his +friend to join it.</p> + +<p>“Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you +standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better +dance.”</p> + +<p>“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am +particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it +would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not +another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to +stand up with.”</p> + +<p>“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Bingley, “for a +kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my +life as I have this evening; and there are several of them, you see, +uncommonly pretty.”</p> + +<p>“<i>You</i> are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. +Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.</p> + +<p>“Oh, she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_15">{15}</a></span> But there is one +of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I +dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 456px;"> +<img src="images/i_044.jpg" width="456" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<p> +“She is tolerable”<br> +</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>“Which do you mean?” and turning round, he looked for a moment at +Elizabeth, till, catching her eye, he withdrew his own, and coldly said, +“She is tolerable: but not handsome enough to tempt <i>me</i>; and I am in no +humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted +by other men. You had better return to your<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_16">{16}</a></span> partner and enjoy her +smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth +remained with no very cordial feelings towards him. She told the story, +however, with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, +playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.</p> + +<p>The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs. +Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield +party. Mr. Bingley had danced with her twice, and she had been +distinguished by his sisters. Jane was as much gratified by this as her +mother could be, though in a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane’s +pleasure. Mary had heard herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most +accomplished girl in the neighbourhood; and Catherine and Lydia had been +fortunate enough to be never without partners, which was all that they +had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned, therefore, in good +spirits to Longbourn, the village where they lived, and of which they +were the principal inhabitants. They found Mr. Bennet still up. With a +book, he was regardless of time; and on the present occasion he had a +good deal of curiosity as to the event of an evening which had raised +such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that all his wife’s +views on the stranger would be disappointed; but he soon found that he +had a very different story to hear.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear Mr. Bennet,” as she entered the room, “we have had a most +delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there. +Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it. Everybody said how well +she looked; and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with +her twice. Only think of <i>that</i>, my dear: he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_17">{17}</a></span> actually danced with her +twice; and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second +time. First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand +up with her; but, however, he did not admire her at all; indeed, nobody +can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was going +down the dance. So he inquired who she was, and got introduced, and +asked her for the two next. Then, the two third he danced with Miss +King, and the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane +again, and the two sixth with Lizzy, and the <i>Boulanger</i>——”</p> + +<p>“If he had had any compassion for <i>me</i>,” cried her husband impatiently, +“he would not have danced half so much! For God’s sake, say no more of +his partners. O that he had sprained his ancle in the first dance!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear,” continued Mrs. Bennet, “I am quite delighted with him. He +is so excessively handsome! and his sisters are charming women. I never +in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses. I dare say the +lace upon Mrs. Hurst’s gown——”</p> + +<p>Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet protested against any +description of finery. She was therefore obliged to seek another branch +of the subject, and related, with much bitterness of spirit, and some +exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. Darcy.</p> + +<p>“But I can assure you,” she added, “that Lizzy does not lose much by not +suiting <i>his</i> fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at +all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited, that there was no enduring +him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very +great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my +dear, to have given him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_18">{18}</a></span>”</p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_IV"></a><img src="images/i_047_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_047_b.png" +width="100" +alt="W"></span>HEN Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in +her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister how very much +she admired him.</p> + +<p>“He is just what a young-man ought to be,” said she, “sensible, +good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! so much ease, +with such perfect good breeding!”</p> + +<p>“He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man ought +likewise to be if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete.”</p> + +<p>“I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I +did not expect such a compliment.”</p> + +<p>“Did not you? <i>I</i> did for you. But that is one great difference between +us. Compliments always take <i>you</i> by surprise, and <i>me</i> never. What +could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help +seeing that you<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_19">{19}</a></span> were about five times as pretty as every other woman in +the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is +very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a +stupider person.”</p> + +<p>“Dear Lizzy!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. +You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable +in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in my life.”</p> + +<p>“I would wish not to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always speak +what I think.”</p> + +<p>“I know you do: and it is <i>that</i> which makes the wonder. With <i>your</i> +good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of +others! Affectation of candour is common enough; one meets with it +everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design,—to take the +good of everybody’s character and make it still better, and say nothing +of the bad,—belongs to you alone. And so, you like this man’s sisters, +too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not, at first; but they are very pleasing women when you +converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother, and keep +his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming +neighbour in her.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced: their behaviour at +the assembly had not been calculated to please in general; and with more +quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than her sister, and +with a judgment, too, unassailed by any attention to herself, she was +very little disposed to approve them. They were, in fact, very fine +ladies; not deficient in good-humour when they were pleased, nor in the +power<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_20">{20}</a></span> of being agreeable where they chose it; but proud and conceited. +They were rather handsome; had been educated in one of the first private +seminaries in town; had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds; were in the +habit of spending more than they ought, and of associating with people +of rank; and were, therefore, in every respect entitled to think well of +themselves and meanly of others. They were of a respectable family in +the north of England; a circumstance more deeply impressed on their +memories than that their brother’s fortune and their own had been +acquired by trade.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly a hundred +thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate, +but did not live to do it. Mr. Bingley intended it likewise, and +sometimes made choice of his county; but, as he was now provided with a +good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those +who best knew the easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the +remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to +purchase.</p> + +<p>His sisters were very anxious for his having an estate of his own; but +though he was now established only as a tenant, Miss Bingley was by no +means unwilling to preside at his table; nor was Mrs. Hurst, who had +married a man of more fashion than fortune, less disposed to consider +his house as her home when it suited her. Mr. Bingley had not been of +age two years when he was tempted, by an accidental recommendation, to +look at Netherfield House. He did look at it, and into it, for half an +hour; was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied +with what the owner said in its praise, and took it immediately.</p> + +<p>Between him and Darcy there was a very steady<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_21">{21}</a></span> friendship, in spite of a +great opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the +easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, though no disposition +could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he +never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy’s regard, Bingley +had the firmest reliance, and of his judgment the highest opinion. In +understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means +deficient; but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty, +reserved, and fastidious; and his manners, though well bred, were not +inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley +was sure of being liked wherever he appeared; Darcy was continually +giving offence.</p> + +<p>The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently +characteristic. Bingley had never met with pleasanter people or prettier +girls in his life; everybody had been most kind and attentive to him; +there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted +with all the room; and as to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel +more beautiful. Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people +in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had +felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or +pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty; but she smiled too +much.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so; but still they admired +her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet girl, and one whom +they should not object to know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore +established as a sweet girl; and their brother felt authorized by such +commendation to think of her as he chose.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_22">{22}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_V"></a><img src="images/i_051_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br> +CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_051_b.png" +width="100" +alt="W"></span>ITHIN a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the Bennets +were particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas had been formerly in trade +in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune, and risen to the +honour of knighthood by an address to the king during his mayoralty. The +distinction had, perhaps, been felt too strongly. It had given him a +disgust to his business and to his residence in a small market town; +and, quitting them both, he had removed with his family to a house about +a mile from Meryton, denominated from that period Lucas Lodge; where he +could think with pleasure of his own importance, and, unshackled by +business, occupy himself solely in being civil to all the world. For, +though elated by his rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the +contrary, he was all attention to everybody. By nature inoffensive, +friendly, and obliging, his presentation at St. James’s had made him +courteous.</p> + +<p>Lady Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not too<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_23">{23}</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“<i>You</i> began the evening well, Charlotte,” said Mrs. Bennet, with civil +self-command, to Miss Lucas. “<i>You</i> were Mr. Bingley’s first choice.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but he seemed to like his second better.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you mean Jane, I suppose, because he danced with her twice. To be +sure that <i>did</i> seem as if he admired her—indeed, I rather believe he +<i>did</i>—I heard something about it—but I hardly know what—something +about Mr. Robinson.”</p> + +<p>“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 <i>which</i> 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.’<span class="lftspc">”</span></p> + +<p>“Upon my word! Well, that was very decided, indeed—that does seem as +if—but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know.”</p> + +<p>“<i>My</i> overhearings were more to the purpose than <i>yours</i>, Eliza,” said +Charlotte. “Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to as his friend, +is he? Poor Eliza! to be only just <i>tolerable</i>.”</p> + +<p>“I beg you will not put it into Lizzy’s head to be<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_24">{24}</a></span> vexed by his +ill-treatment, for he is such a disagreeable man that it would be quite +a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he +sat close to her for half an hour without once opening his lips.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 354px;"> +<img src="images/i_053.jpg" width="354" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"><p>“Without once opening his lips”</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>“Are you quite sure, ma’am? Is not there a little mistake?” said Jane. +“I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her.”</p> + +<p>“Ay, because she asked him at last how he liked<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_25">{25}</a></span> Netherfield, and he +could not help answering her; but she said he seemed very angry at being +spoke to.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much unless +among his intimate acquaintance. With <i>them</i> he is remarkably +agreeable.”</p> + +<p>“I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very +agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it +was; everybody says that he is eat up with pride, and I dare say he had +heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had to come +to the ball in a hack chaise.”</p> + +<p>“I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long,” said Miss Lucas, “but I +wish he had danced with Eliza.”</p> + +<p>“Another time, Lizzy,” said her mother, “I would not dance with <i>him</i>, +if I were you.”</p> + +<p>“I believe, ma’am, I may safely promise you <i>never</i> to dance with him.”</p> + +<p>“His pride,” said Miss Lucas, “does not offend <i>me</i> so much as pride +often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so +very fine a young man, with family, fortune, everything in his favour, +should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a <i>right</i> +to be proud.”</p> + +<p>“That is very true,” replied Elizabeth, “and I could easily forgive +<i>his</i> pride, if he had not mortified <i>mine</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Pride,” observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her +reflections, “is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have +ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human +nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us +who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some +quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different +things, though the words are often<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_26">{26}</a></span> used synonymously. A person may be +proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of +ourselves; vanity to what we would have others think of us.”</p> + +<p>“If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy,” cried a young Lucas, who came with his +sisters, “I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of +foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine every day.”</p> + +<p>“Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought,” said Mrs. +Bennet; “and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle +directly.”</p> + +<p>The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she +would; and the argument ended only with the visit.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i_055.jpg" width="550" height="513" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_27">{27}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_VI"></a><img src="images/i_056_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_056_b.png" +width="100" +alt="T"></span>HE ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit +was returned in due form. Miss Bennet’s pleasing manners grew on the +good-will of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and though the mother was +found to be intolerable, and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, +a wish of being better acquainted with <i>them</i> was expressed towards the +two eldest. By Jane this attention was received with the greatest +pleasure; but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their treatment of +everybody, hardly excepting even her sister, and could not like them; +though their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value, as arising, +in all probability, from the influence of their brother’s admiration. It +was generally evident, whenever they met, that he <i>did</i> admire her; and +to <i>her</i> it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference +which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a +way to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure that it +was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane +united with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and an +uniform cheerfulness of manner, which would guard<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_28">{28}</a></span> her from the +suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend, Miss +Lucas.</p> + +<p>“It may, perhaps, be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to impose +on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be +so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill +from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and +it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the +dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every +attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all +<i>begin</i> freely—a slight preference is natural enough; but there are +very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without +encouragement. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better show <i>more</i> +affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he +may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on.”</p> + +<p>“But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If <i>I</i> can +perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton indeed not to +discover it too.”</p> + +<p>“Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane’s disposition as you do.”</p> + +<p>“But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavor to conceal +it, he must find it out.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But though Bingley and Jane +meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and as they +always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that +every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should +therefore make the most of every half hour in which she can command his +attention. When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling +in love as much as she chooses.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_29">{29}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Your plan is a good one,” replied Elizabeth, “where nothing is in +question but the desire of being well married; and if I were determined +to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But +these are not Jane’s feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet she +cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard, nor of its +reasonableness. She has known him only a fortnight. She danced four +dances with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house, +and has since dined in company with him four times. This is not quite +enough to make her understand his character.”</p> + +<p>“Not as you represent it. Had she merely <i>dined</i> with him, she might +only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but you must +remember that four evenings have been also spent together—and four +evenings may do a great deal.”</p> + +<p>“Yes: these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both +like Vingt-un better than Commerce, but with respect to any other +leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Charlotte, “I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if +she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a +chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a +twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If +the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or +ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the +least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to +have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as +possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your +life.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_30">{30}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not +sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself.”</p> + +<p>Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley’s attention to her sister, Elizabeth +was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some +interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely +allowed her to be pretty: he had looked at her without admiration at the +ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no +sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had +hardly a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered +uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To +this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had +detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry +in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and +pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those +of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of +this she was perfectly unaware: to her he was only the man who made +himself agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought her handsome enough +to dance with.</p> + +<p>He began to wish to know more of her; and, as a step towards conversing +with her himself, attended to her conversation with others. His doing so +drew her notice. It was at Sir William Lucas’s, where a large party were +assembled.</p> + +<p>“What does Mr. Darcy mean,” said she to Charlotte, “by listening to my +conversation with Colonel Forster?”</p> + +<p>“That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer.”</p> + +<p>“But if he does it any more, I shall certainly let him know that I see +what he is about. He has a very<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_31">{31}</a></span> satirical eye, and if I do not begin by +being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i_060.jpg" width="550" height="547" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"><p>“The entreaties of several” [<i>Copyright 1894 by George +Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have +any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such +a subject to him, which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she +turned to him and said,—</p> + +<p>“Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well +just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at +Meryton?”</p> + +<p>“With great energy; but it is a subject which always makes a lady +energetic.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_32">{32}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“You are severe on us.”</p> + +<p>“It will be <i>her</i> turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas. “I am going +to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.”</p> + +<p>“You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!—always wanting me +to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a +musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would +really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of +hearing the very best performers.” On Miss Lucas’s persevering, however, +she added, “Very well; if it must be so, it must.” And gravely glancing +at Mr. Darcy, “There is a very fine old saying, which everybody here is +of course familiar with—‘Keep your breath to cool your porridge,’—and +I shall keep mine to swell my song.”</p> + +<p>Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song +or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she +would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her +sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in +the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always +impatient for display.</p> + +<p>Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her +application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited +manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she +had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with +much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the +end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by +Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who with +some of the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in +dancing at one end of the room.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_33">{33}</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of +passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too +much engrossed by his own thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas +was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began:—</p> + +<p>“What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is +nothing like dancing, after all. I consider it as one of the first +refinements of polished societies.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst +the less polished societies of the world: every savage can dance.”</p> + +<p>Sir William only smiled. “Your friend performs delightfully,” he +continued, after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; “and I doubt +not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy.”</p> + +<p>“You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do +you often dance at St. James’s?”</p> + +<p>“Never, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?”</p> + +<p>“It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it.”</p> + +<p>“You have a house in town, I conclude?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Darcy bowed.</p> + +<p>“I had once some thoughts of fixing in town myself, for I am fond of +superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of +London would agree with Lady Lucas.”</p> + +<p>He paused in hopes of an answer: but his companion was not disposed to +make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving towards them, he was +struck with the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_34">{34}</a></span> notion of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to +her,—</p> + +<p>“My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow +me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You +cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.” +And, taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy, who, though +extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly +drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William,—</p> + +<p>“Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you +not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the honour of +her hand, but in vain. Elizabeth was determined; nor did Sir William at +all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion.</p> + +<p>“You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me +the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the +amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us +for one half hour.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Darcy is all politeness,” said Elizabeth, smiling.</p> + +<p>“He is, indeed: but considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we +cannot wonder at his complaisance; for who would object to such a +partner?”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not injured +her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her with some +complacency, when thus accosted by Miss Bingley,—</p> + +<p>“I can guess the subject of your reverie.”</p> + +<p>“I should imagine not.”</p> + +<p>“You are considering how insupportable it would be<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_35">{35}</a></span> to pass many +evenings in this manner,—in such society; and, indeed, I am quite of +your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the +noise—the nothingness, and yet the self-importance, of all these +people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!”</p> + +<p>“Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more +agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure +which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.”</p> + +<p>Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he +would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. +Mr. Darcy replied, with great intrepidity,—</p> + +<p>“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” repeated Miss Bingley. “I am all astonishment. +How long has she been such a favourite? and pray when am I to wish you +joy?”</p> + +<p>“That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady’s +imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love +to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter as +absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed, and +of course she will be always at Pemberley with you.”</p> + +<p>He listened to her with perfect indifference, while she chose to +entertain herself in this manner; and as his composure convinced her +that all was safe, her wit flowed along.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_36">{36}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_VII"></a><img src="images/i_065_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br> +<span class="caption"> +A note for Miss Bennet. +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_065_b.png" +width="100" +alt="M"></span>R. BENNET’S property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two +thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed, +in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother’s +fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply +the deficiency of his. Her father had been an<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_37">{37}</a></span> attorney in Meryton, and +had left her four thousand pounds.</p> + +<p>She had a sister married to a Mr. Philips, who had been a clerk to their +father and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled in +London in a respectable line of trade.</p> + +<p>The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most +convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted +thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt, and +to a milliner’s shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family, +Catherine and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions: +their minds were more vacant than their sisters’, and when nothing +better offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning +hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and, however bare of +news the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn +some from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well supplied both +with news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in +the neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was +the head-quarters.</p> + +<p>Their visits to Mrs. Philips were now productive of the most interesting +intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of the +officers’ names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret, +and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Philips +visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a source of felicity +unknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. +Bingley’s large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their +mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of +an ensign.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_38">{38}</a></span></p> + +<p>After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr. +Bennet coolly observed,—</p> + +<p>“From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two +of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but +I am now convinced.”</p> + +<p>Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with perfect +indifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter, and +her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the +next morning to London.</p> + +<p>“I am astonished, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that you should be so +ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly +of anybody’s children, it should not be of my own, however.”</p> + +<p>“If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but as it happens, they are all of them very clever.”</p> + +<p>“This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I +had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must +so far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly +foolish.”</p> + +<p>“My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of +their father and mother. When they get to our age, I dare say they will +not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I +liked a red coat myself very well—and, indeed, so I do still at my +heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year, +should want one of my girls, I shall not say nay to him; and I thought +Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William’s in +his regimentals.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_39">{39}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Mamma,” cried Lydia, “my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain +Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson’s as they did when they first +came; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke’s library.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a +note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited +for an answer. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was +eagerly calling out, while her daughter read,—</p> + +<p>“Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, +Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.”</p> + +<p>“It is from Miss Bingley,” said Jane, and then read it aloud.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind"> “My dear friend,</p> + +<p>“If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and +me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our +lives; for a whole day’s <i>tête-à-tête</i> between two women can never +end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on the receipt of +this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers. +Yours ever,</p> + +<p class="r"> +“<span class="smcap">Caroline Bingley</span>.”<br> +</p></div> + +<p>“With the officers!” cried Lydia: “I wonder my aunt did not tell us of +<i>that</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Dining out,” said Mrs. Bennet; “that is very unlucky.”</p> + +<p>“Can I have the carriage?” said Jane.</p> + +<p>“No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to +rain; and then you must stay all night.”</p> + +<p>“That would be a good scheme,” said Elizabeth, “if you were sure that +they would not offer to send her home.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_40">{40}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley’s chaise to go to Meryton; +and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.”</p> + +<p>“I had much rather go in the coach.”</p> + +<p>“But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are +wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are not they?”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 433px;"> +<img src="images/i_069.jpg" width="433" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"><p>Cheerful prognostics</p></div> +</div> + +<p>“They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.”</p> + +<p>“But if you have got them to-day,” said Elizabeth, “my mother’s purpose +will be answered.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_41">{41}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses +were engaged; Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her +mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad +day. Her hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before it +rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was +delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission; +Jane certainly could not come back.</p> + +<p>“This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!” said Mrs. Bennet, more than +once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next +morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her +contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield +brought the following note for Elizabeth:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind">“My dearest Lizzie,</p> + +<p>“I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be +imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will +not hear of my returning home till I am better. They insist also on +my seeing Mr. Jones—therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear +of his having been to me—and, excepting a sore throat and a +headache, there is not much the matter with me.</p> + +<p class="r"> +“Yours, etc.”<br> +</p></div> + +<p>“Well, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note +aloud, “if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness—if she +should die—it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of +Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am not at all afraid of her dying. People do<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_42">{42}</a></span> not die of little +trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays +there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the +carriage.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, determined to go to her, though the +carriage was not to be had: and as she was no horsewoman, walking was +her only alternative. She declared her resolution.</p> + +<p>“How can you be so silly,” cried her mother, “as to think of such a +thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get +there.”</p> + +<p>“I shall be very fit to see Jane—which is all I want.”</p> + +<p>“Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,” said her father, “to send for the +horses?”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing, +when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.”</p> + +<p>“I admire the activity of your benevolence,” observed Mary, “but every +impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, +exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.”</p> + +<p>“We will go as far as Meryton with you,” said Catherine and Lydia. +Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off +together.</p> + +<p>“If we make haste,” said Lydia, as they walked along, “perhaps we may +see something of Captain Carter, before he goes.”</p> + +<p>In Meryton they parted: the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one +of the officers’ wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing +field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing +over puddles, with impatient activity, and finding herself at last +within view of the house, with weary ancles, dirty stockings, and a face +glowing with the warmth of exercise.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_43">{43}</a></span></p> + +<p>She was shown into the breakfast parlour, where all but Jane were +assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise. +That she should have walked three miles so early in the day in such +dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and +Miss Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt +for it. She was received, however, very politely by them; and in their +brother’s manners there was something better than politeness—there was +good-humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst +nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the +brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion and doubt as to +the occasion’s justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was +thinking only of his breakfast.</p> + +<p>Her inquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss +Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not well +enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her +immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving +alarm or inconvenience, from expressing in her note how much she longed +for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal, +however, to much conversation; and when Miss Bingley left them together, +could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude for the +extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended +her.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 257px;"> +<img src="images/i_073.jpg" width="257" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"><p> +“The Apothecary came”<br> +</p></div> +</div> + +<p>When breakfast was over, they were joined by the sisters; and Elizabeth +began to like them herself, when she saw how much affection and +solicitude they showed for Jane. The apothecary came; and having +examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught a +violent cold, and that they must endeavour to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_44">{44}</a></span> get the better of it; +advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice +was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head +ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment, nor were +the other ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had in fact +nothing to do elsewhere.</p> + +<p>When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and very +unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only +wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern +at parting with her that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer +of the chaise into an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the +present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was +despatched to Longbourn, to acquaint the family with her stay, and bring +back a supply of clothes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_45">{45}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a><img src="images/i_074_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +Covering a screen. +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_074_b.png" +width="100" +alt="A"></span>T five o’clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half-past six +Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. 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.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_46">{46}</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could +regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his +attentions to herself most pleasing; and they prevented her feeling +herself so much an intruder as she believed she was considered by the +others. She had very little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was +engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for 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.</p> + +<p>When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley +began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were +pronounced to be very bad indeed,—a mixture of pride and impertinence: +she had no conversation, no style, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst +thought the same, and added,—</p> + +<p>“She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent +walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really +looked almost wild.”</p> + +<p>“She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very +nonsensical to come at all! Why must <i>she</i> be scampering about the +country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowzy!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_47">{47}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep +in mud, I am absolutely certain, and the gown which had been let down to +hide it not doing its office.”</p> + +<p>“Your picture may be very exact, Louisa,” said Bingley; “but this was +all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well +when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite +escaped my notice.”</p> + +<p>“<i>You</i> observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley; “and I am +inclined to think that you would not wish to see <i>your sister</i> make such +an exhibition.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing,” said +Bingley.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid, Mr. Darcy,” observed Miss Bingley, in a half whisper, +“that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine +eyes.”</p> + +<p>“Not at all,” he replied: “they were brightened by the exercise.” A +short pause followed this speech, and Mrs. Hurst began again,—</p> + +<p>“I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet,—she is really a very sweet +girl,—and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such +a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no +chance of it.”</p> + +<p>“I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in +Meryton?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_48">{48}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.”</p> + +<p>“That is capital,” added her sister; and they both laughed heartily.</p> + +<p>“If they had uncles enough to fill <i>all</i> Cheapside,” cried Bingley, “it +would not make them one jot less agreeable.”</p> + +<p>“But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any +consideration in the world,” replied Darcy.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>With a renewal of tenderness, however, they repaired to her room on +leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till summoned to coffee. +She was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not quit her at all, till +late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her asleep, and +when it appeared to her rather right than pleasant that she should go +down stairs herself. 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.</p> + +<p>“Do you prefer reading to cards?” said he; “that is rather singular.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, “despises cards. She is a great +reader, and has no pleasure in anything else.”</p> + +<p>“I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,” cried<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_49">{49}</a></span> Elizabeth; “I +am <i>not</i> a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.”</p> + +<p>“In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure,” said Bingley; “and +I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards a table +where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her +others; all that his library afforded.</p> + +<p>“And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own +credit; but I am an idle fellow; and though I have not many, I have more +than I ever looked into.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those +in the room.</p> + +<p>“I am astonished,” said Miss Bingley, “that my father should have left +so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at +Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!”</p> + +<p>“It ought to be good,” he replied: “it has been the work of many +generations.”</p> + +<p>“And then you have added so much to it yourself—you are always buying +books.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as +these.”</p> + +<p>“Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of +that noble place. Charles, when you build <i>your</i> house, I wish it may be +half as delightful as Pemberley.”</p> + +<p>“I wish it may.”</p> + +<p>“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.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_50">{50}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“With all my heart: I will buy Pemberley itself, if Darcy will sell it.”</p> + +<p>“I am talking of possibilities, Charles.”</p> + +<p>“Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get +Pemberley by purchase than by imitation.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was so much caught by what passed, as to leave her very little +attention for her book; and, soon laying it wholly aside, she drew near +the card-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest +sister, to observe the game.</p> + +<p>“Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?” said Miss Bingley: “will +she be as tall as I am?”</p> + +<p>“I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height, or +rather taller.”</p> + +<p>“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me +so much. Such a countenance, such manners, and so extremely accomplished +for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”</p> + +<p>“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience +to be so very accomplished as they all are.”</p> + +<p>“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and +net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this; and I am +sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without +being informed that she was very accomplished.”</p> + +<p>“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has +too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no +otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen; but I am very +far<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_51">{51}</a></span> from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I +cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen in the whole range of my +acquaintance that are really accomplished.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.</p> + +<p>“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your +idea of an accomplished woman.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“I am no longer surprised at your knowing <i>only</i> six accomplished women. +I rather wonder now at your knowing <i>any</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all +this?”</p> + +<p>“<i>I</i> never saw such a woman. <i>I</i> never saw such capacity, and taste, and +application, and elegance, as you describe, united.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her +implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who +answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_52">{52}</a></span> +bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all +conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the +room.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly,” replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, +“there is meanness in <i>all</i> the arts which ladies sometimes condescend +to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is +despicable.”</p> + +<p>Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to +continue the subject.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and +that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones’s being sent for +immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no country advice could +be of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most +eminent physicians. This she would not hear of; but she was not so +unwilling to comply with their brother’s proposal; and it was settled +that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if Miss Bennet +were not decidedly better. 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.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_53">{53}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_IX"></a><img src="images/i_082_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +Mrs Bennet and her two youngest girls. +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_082_b.png" +width="100" +alt="E"></span>LIZABETH passed the chief of the night in her sister’s room, and in the +morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the +inquiries which she very early received from Mr. Bingley by a housemaid, +and some time afterwards from the two elegant ladies who waited on his +sisters. In spite of this amendment,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_54">{54}</a></span> however, she requested to have a +note sent to Longbourn, desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her +own judgment of her situation. The note was immediately despatched, and +its contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her +two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast.</p> + +<p>Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been +very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her that her illness was +not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her +restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield. She +would not listen, therefore, to her daughter’s proposal of being carried +home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think +it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, on Miss +Bingley’s appearance and invitation, the mother and three daughters all +attended her into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met them with hopes +that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet worse than she expected.</p> + +<p>“Indeed I have, sir,” was her answer. “She is a great deal too ill to be +moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass +a little longer on your kindness.”</p> + +<p>“Removed!” cried Bingley. “It must not be thought of. My sister, I am +sure, will not hear of her removal.”</p> + +<p>“You may depend upon it, madam,” said Miss Bingley, with cold civility, +“that Miss Bennet shall receive every possible attention while she +remains with us.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments.</p> + +<p>“I am sure,” she added, “if it was not for such good friends, I do not +know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a +vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is +always<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_55">{55}</a></span> the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest +temper I ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to +<i>her</i>. You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect +over that gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is +equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I +hope, though you have but a short lease.”</p> + +<p>“Whatever I do is done in a hurry,” replied he; “and therefore if I +should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five +minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.”</p> + +<p>“That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,” said Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>“You begin to comprehend me, do you?” cried he, turning towards her.</p> + +<p>“Oh yes—I understand you perfectly.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen +through, I am afraid, is pitiful.”</p> + +<p>“That is as it happens. It does not necessarily follow that a deep, +intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.”</p> + +<p>“Lizzy,” cried her mother, “remember where you are, and do not run on in +the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.”</p> + +<p>“I did not know before,” continued Bingley, immediately, “that you were +a studier of character. It must be an amusing study.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but intricate characters are the <i>most</i> amusing. They have at +least that advantage.”</p> + +<p>“The country,” said Darcy, “can in general supply but few subjects for +such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and +unvarying society.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_56">{56}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be +observed in them for ever.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed,” cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a +country neighbourhood. “I assure you there is quite as much of <i>that</i> +going on in the country as in town.”</p> + +<p>Everybody was surprised; and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, +turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete +victory over him, continued her triumph,—</p> + +<p>“I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for +my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal +pleasanter, is not it, Mr. Bingley?”</p> + +<p>“When I am in the country,” he replied, “I never wish to leave it; and +when I am in town, it is pretty much the same. They have each their +advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.”</p> + +<p>“Ay, that is because you have the right disposition. But that +gentleman,” looking at Darcy, “seemed to think the country was nothing +at all.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, mamma, you are mistaken,” said Elizabeth, blushing for her +mother. “You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there was not +such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in town, which +you must acknowledge to be true.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with +many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few +neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families.”</p> + +<p>Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his +countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her eye towards +Mr. Darcy with a<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_57">{57}</a></span> very expressive smile. Elizabeth, for the sake of +saying something that might turn her mother’s thoughts, now asked her if +Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since <i>her</i> coming away.</p> + +<p>“Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir +William is, Mr. Bingley—is not he? so much the man of fashion! so +genteel and so easy! He has always something to say to everybody. <i>That</i> +is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very +important and never open their mouths quite mistake the matter.”</p> + +<p>“Did Charlotte dine with you?”</p> + +<p>“No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince-pies. For +my part, Mr. Bingley, <i>I</i> always keep servants that can do their own +work; <i>my</i> daughters are brought up differently. But everybody is to +judge for themselves, and the Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I +assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that <i>I</i> think +Charlotte so <i>very</i> plain; but then she is our particular friend.”</p> + +<p>“She seems a very pleasant young woman,” said Bingley.</p> + +<p>“Oh dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself +has often said so, and envied me Jane’s beauty. I do not like to boast +of my own child; but to be sure, Jane—one does not often see anybody +better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own +partiality. When she was only fifteen there was a gentleman at my +brother Gardiner’s in town so much in love with her, that my +sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. +But, however, he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he +wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_58">{58}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“And so ended his affection,” said Elizabeth, impatiently. “There has +been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first +discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!”</p> + +<p>“I have been used to consider poetry as the <i>food</i> of love,” said Darcy.</p> + +<p>“Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is +strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I +am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.”</p> + +<p>Darcy only smiled; and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth +tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to +speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs. +Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to +Jane, with an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was +unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be +civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part, +indeed, without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and +soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of +her daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to +each other during the whole visit; and the result of it was, that the +youngest should tax Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming +into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.</p> + +<p>Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion +and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose +affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high +animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the +attentions of the officers, to whom her uncle’s good<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_59">{59}</a></span> dinners and her +own easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was +very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the +ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be +the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer +to this sudden attack was delightful to her mother’s ear.</p> + +<p>“I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and, when +your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of +the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing while she is ill?”</p> + +<p>Lydia declared herself satisfied. “Oh yes—it would be much better to +wait till Jane was well; and by that time, most likely, Captain Carter +would be at Meryton again. And when you have given <i>your</i> ball,” she +added, “I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel +Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned +instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations’ behaviour to the +remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the latter of whom, however, +could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of <i>her</i>, in spite of +all Miss Bingley’s witticisms on <i>fine eyes</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_60">{60}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_X"></a><img src="images/i_089_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_089_b.png" +width="100" +alt="T"></span>HE day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst and Miss +Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who +continued, though slowly, to mend; and, in the evening, Elizabeth joined +their party in the drawing-room. The loo table, however, did not appear. +Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching +the progress of his letter, and repeatedly calling off his attention by +messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and +Mrs. Hurst was observing their game.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in +attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual +commendations of the lady either on his hand-writing, or on the evenness +of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern +with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was +exactly in unison with her opinion of each.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_61">{61}</a></span></p> + +<p>“How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!”</p> + +<p>He made no answer.</p> + +<p>“You write uncommonly fast.”</p> + +<p>“You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.”</p> + +<p>“How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a +year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!”</p> + +<p>“It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours.”</p> + +<p>“Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.”</p> + +<p>“I have already told her so once, by your desire.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend +pens remarkably well.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you—but I always mend my own.”</p> + +<p>“How can you contrive to write so even?”</p> + +<p>He was silent.</p> + +<p>“Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp, +and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful +little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss +Grantley’s.”</p> + +<p>“Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At +present I have not room to do them justice.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you +always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?”</p> + +<p>“They are generally long; but whether always charming, it is not for me +to determine.”</p> + +<p>“It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with +ease cannot write ill.”</p> + +<p>“That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline,” cried her +brother, “because he does <i>not</i> write with ease.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_62">{62}</a></span> He studies too much +for words of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?”</p> + +<p>“My style of writing is very different from yours.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” cried Miss Bingley, “Charles writes in the most careless way +imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest.”</p> + +<p>“My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them; by which +means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents.”</p> + +<p>“Your humility, Mr. Bingley,” said Elizabeth, “must disarm reproof.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing is more deceitful,” said Darcy, “than the appearance of +humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an +indirect boast.”</p> + +<p>“And which of the two do you call <i>my</i> little recent piece of modesty?”</p> + +<p>“The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in +writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of +thought and carelessness of execution, which, if not estimable, you +think at least highly interesting. The power of doing anything with +quickness is always much prized by the possessor, and often without any +attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs. +Bennet this morning, that if you ever resolved on quitting Netherfield +you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of +panegyric, of compliment to yourself; and yet what is there so very +laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business +undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or anyone else?”</p> + +<p>“Nay,” cried Bingley, “this is too much, to remember at night all the +foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon my honour, I +believed what I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_63">{63}</a></span> said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this +moment. At least, therefore, I did not assume the character of needless +precipitance merely to show off before the ladies.”</p> + +<p>“I daresay you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you +would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as +dependent on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were +mounting your horse, a friend were to say, ‘Bingley, you had better stay +till next week,’ you would probably do it—you would probably not +go—and, at another word, might stay a month.”</p> + +<p>“You have only proved by this,” cried Elizabeth, “that Mr. Bingley did +not do justice to his own disposition. You have shown him off now much +more than he did himself.”</p> + +<p>“I am exceedingly gratified,” said Bingley, “by your converting what my +friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am +afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means +intend; for he would certainly think the better of me if, under such a +circumstance, I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I +could.”</p> + +<p>“Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intention +as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?”</p> + +<p>“Upon my word, I cannot exactly explain the matter—Darcy must speak for +himself.”</p> + +<p>“You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to call mine, +but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to +stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet, +that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_64">{64}</a></span> and +the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering +one argument in favour of its propriety.”</p> + +<p>“To yield readily—easily—to the <i>persuasion</i> of a friend is no merit +with you.”</p> + +<p>“To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of +either.”</p> + +<p>“You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of +friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make +one readily yield to a request, without waiting for arguments to reason +one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have +supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the +circumstance occurs, before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour +thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases, between friend and friend, +where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no +very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying +with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?”</p> + +<p>“Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange +with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to +appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting +between the parties?”</p> + +<p>“By all means,” cried Bingley; “let us hear all the particulars, not +forgetting their comparative height and size, for that will have more +weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure +you that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with +myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not +know a more awful object than Darcy on particular occasions, and in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_65">{65}</a></span> +particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, +when he has nothing to do.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was +rather offended, and therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly +resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her +brother for talking such nonsense.</p> + +<p>“I see your design, Bingley,” said his friend. “You dislike an argument, +and want to silence this.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss +Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very +thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me.”</p> + +<p>“What you ask,” said Elizabeth, “is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr. +Darcy had much better finish his letter.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter.</p> + +<p>When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth +for the indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with alacrity to +the pianoforte, and after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the +way, which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she +seated herself.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister; and while they were thus employed, +Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music-books +that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Darcy’s eyes were fixed +on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of +admiration to so great a man, and yet that he should look at her because +he disliked her was still more strange. She could only imagine, however, +at last, that she drew his notice because there was something about her +more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in +any other person present.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_66">{66}</a></span> The supposition did not pain her. She liked +him too little to care for his approbation.</p> + +<p>After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a +lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near +Elizabeth, said to her,—</p> + +<p>“Do you not feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an +opportunity of dancing a reel?”</p> + +<p>She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some +surprise at her silence.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” said she, “I heard you before; but I could not immediately +determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say ‘Yes,’ +that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always +delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of +their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell +you that I do not want to dance a reel at all; and now despise me if you +dare.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed I do not dare.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his +gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her +manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody, and Darcy had +never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really +believed that, were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he +should be in some danger.</p> + +<p>Miss Bingley saw, or suspected, enough to be jealous; and her great +anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some +assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by talking of +their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance.</p> + +<p>“I hope,” said she, as they were walking together in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_67">{67}</a></span> the shrubbery the +next day, “you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this +desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; +and if you can compass it, to cure the younger girls of running after +the officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to +check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, +which your lady possesses.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 470px;"> +<img src="images/i_096.jpg" width="470" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“No, no; stay where you are”</p></div> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>“Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_68">{68}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Philips be placed +in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the +judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different +lines. As for your Elizabeth’s picture, you must not attempt to have it +taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?”</p> + +<p>“It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression; but their +colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be +copied.”</p> + +<p>At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst and +Elizabeth herself.</p> + +<p>“I did not know that you intended to walk,” said Miss Bingley, in some +confusion, lest they had been overheard.</p> + +<p>“You used us abominably ill,” answered Mrs. Hurst, “running away without +telling us that you were coming out.”</p> + +<p>Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk +by herself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt their rudeness, +and immediately said,—</p> + +<p>“This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the +avenue.”</p> + +<p>But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them, +laughingly answered,—</p> + +<p>“No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to +uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a +fourth. Good-bye.”</p> + +<p>She then ran gaily off, rejoicing, as she rambled about, in the hope of +being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already so much recovered +as to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours that evening.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_69">{69}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XI"></a><img src="images/i_098_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +Piling up the fire. +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_098_b.png" +width="100" +alt="W"></span>HEN the ladies removed after dinner Elizabeth ran up to her sister, and +seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into the drawing-room, +where she was welcomed by her two friends with many professions of +pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable as they were +during the hour which passed before the gentlemen appeared. Their powers +of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment +with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their +acquaintance with spirit.</p> + +<p>But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_70">{70}</a></span> the first object; +Miss Bingley’s eyes were instantly turned towards Darcy, and she had +something to say to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed +himself directly to Miss Bennet with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst +also made her a slight bow, and said he was “very glad;” but diffuseness +and warmth remained for Bingley’s salutation. He was full of joy and +attention. The first half hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she +should suffer from the change of room; and she removed, at his desire, +to the other side of the fireplace, that she might be farther from the +door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to anyone else. +Elizabeth, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with great +delight.</p> + +<p>When tea was over Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law of the +card-table—but in vain. She had obtained private intelligence that Mr. +Darcy did not wish for cards, and Mr. Hurst soon found even his open +petition rejected. She assured him that no one intended to play, and the +silence of the whole party on the subject seemed to justify her. Mr. +Hurst had, therefore, nothing to do but to stretch himself on one of the +sofas and go to sleep. Darcy took up a book. Miss Bingley did the same; +and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her bracelets and +rings, joined now and then in her brother’s conversation with Miss +Bennet.</p> + +<p>Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. +Darcy’s progress through <i>his</i> book, as in reading her own; and she was +perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She +could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her +question and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be +amused with her own book, which she<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_71">{71}</a></span> had only chosen because it was the +second volume of his, she gave a great yawn and said, “How pleasant it +is to spend an evening in this way! I declare, after all, there is no +enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a +book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not +an excellent library.”</p> + +<p>No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her book, and +cast her eyes round the room in quest of some amusement; when, hearing +her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly +towards him and said,—</p> + +<p>“By the bye Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at +Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult +the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not +some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a +pleasure.”</p> + +<p>“If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he +chooses, before it begins; but as for the ball, it is quite a settled +thing, and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough I shall send +round my cards.”</p> + +<p>“I should like balls infinitely better,” she replied, “if they were +carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably +tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much +more rational if conversation instead of dancing made the order of the +day.”</p> + +<p>“Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say; but it would not be +near so much like a ball.”</p> + +<p>Miss Bingley made no answer, and soon afterwards got up and walked about +the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but Darcy, at +whom it was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_72">{72}</a></span> all aimed, was still inflexibly studious. In the +desperation of her feelings, she resolved on one effort more; and, +turning to Elizabeth, said,—</p> + +<p>“Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a +turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so +long in one attitude.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss Bingley +succeeded no less in the real object of her civility: Mr. Darcy looked +up. He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as +Elizabeth herself could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He was +directly invited to join their party, but he declined it, observing that +he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down +the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would +interfere. What could he mean? She was dying to know what could be his +meaning—and asked Elizabeth whether she could at all understand him.</p> + +<p>“Not at all,” was her answer; “but, depend upon it, he means to be +severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask +nothing about it.”</p> + +<p>Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in +anything, and persevered, therefore, in requiring an explanation of his +two motives.</p> + +<p>“I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,” said he, as soon +as she allowed him to speak. “You either choose this method of passing +the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret +affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures +appear to the greatest advantage in walking: if the first, I should be +completely in your way; and if the second, I can admire you much better +as I sit by the fire.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, shocking!” cried Miss Bingley. “I never heard<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_73">{73}</a></span> anything so +abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,” said Elizabeth. “We +can all plague and punish one another. Tease him—laugh at him. Intimate +as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”</p> + +<p>“But upon my honour I do <i>not</i>. I do assure you that my intimacy has not +yet taught me <i>that</i>. Tease calmness of temper and presence of mind! No, +no; I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose +ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. +Darcy may hug himself.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!” cried Elizabeth. “That is an +uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would +be a great loss to <i>me</i> to have many such acquaintance. I dearly love a +laugh.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Bingley,” said he, “has given me credit for more than can be. The +wisest and best of men,—nay, the wisest and best of their actions,—may +be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a +joke.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” replied Elizabeth, “there are such people, but I hope I am +not one of <i>them</i>. I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies +and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, <i>do</i> divert me, I own, and I +laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what +you are without.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of +my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong +understanding to ridicule.”</p> + +<p>“Such as vanity and pride.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real +superiority of mind—pride will be always under good regulation.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_74">{74}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.</p> + +<p>“Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume,” said Miss Bingley; +“and pray what is the result?”</p> + +<p>“I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it +himself without disguise.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Darcy, “I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, +but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch +for. It is, I believe, too little yielding; certainly too little for the +convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of +others so soon as I ought, nor their offences against myself. My +feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper +would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost for +ever.”</p> + +<p>“<i>That</i> is a failing, indeed!” cried Elizabeth. “Implacable resentment +<i>is</i> a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I +really cannot <i>laugh</i> at it. You are safe from me.”</p> + +<p>“There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular +evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”</p> + +<p>“And <i>your</i> defect is a propensity to hate everybody.”</p> + +<p>“And yours,” he replied, with a smile, “is wilfully to misunderstand +them.”</p> + +<p>“Do let us have a little music,” cried Miss Bingley, tired of a +conversation in which she had no share. “Louisa, you will not mind my +waking Mr. Hurst.”</p> + +<p>Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was +opened; and Darcy, after a few moments’ recollection, was not sorry for +it. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_75">{75}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XII"></a><img src="images/i_104_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_104_b.png" +width="100" +alt="I"></span>N consequence of an agreement between the sisters, Elizabeth wrote the +next morning to her mother, to beg that the carriage might be sent for +them in the course of the day. But Mrs. Bennet, who had calculated on +her daughters remaining at Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which +would exactly finish Jane’s week, could not bring herself to receive +them with pleasure before. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at +least not to Elizabeth’s wishes, for she was impatient to get home. Mrs. +Bennet sent them word that they could not possibly have the carriage +before Tuesday; and in her postscript it was added, that if Mr. Bingley +and his sister pressed them to stay longer, she could spare them very +well. Against staying longer, however, Elizabeth was positively<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_76">{76}</a></span> +resolved—nor did she much expect it would be asked; and fearful, on the +contrary, of being considered as intruding themselves needlessly long, +she urged Jane to borrow Mr. Bingley’s carriage immediately, and at +length it was settled that their original design of leaving Netherfield +that morning should be mentioned, and the request made.</p> + +<p>The communication excited many professions of concern; and enough was +said of wishing them to stay at least till the following day to work on +Jane; and till the morrow their going was deferred. Miss Bingley was +then sorry that she had proposed the delay; for her jealousy and dislike +of one sister much exceeded her affection for the other.</p> + +<p>The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were to go so +soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade Miss Bennet that it would not be +safe for her—that she was not enough recovered; but Jane was firm where +she felt herself to be right.</p> + +<p>To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence: Elizabeth had been at +Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he liked; and Miss +Bingley was uncivil to <i>her</i> and more teasing than usual to himself. He +wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration +should <i>now</i> escape him—nothing that could elevate her with the hope of +influencing his felicity; sensible that, if such an idea had been +suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material weight +in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely spoke +ten words to her through the whole of Saturday: and though they were at +one time left by themselves for half an hour, he adhered most +conscientiously to his book, and would not even look at her.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_77">{77}</a></span></p> + +<p>On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable to almost +all, took place. Miss Bingley’s civility to Elizabeth increased at last +very rapidly, as well as her affection for Jane; and when they parted, +after assuring the latter of the pleasure it would always give her to +see her either at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most +tenderly, she even shook hands with the former. Elizabeth took leave of +the whole party in the liveliest spirits.</p> + +<p>They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother. Mrs. Bennet +wondered at their coming, and thought them very wrong to give so much +trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught cold again. But their +father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really +glad to see them; he had felt their importance in the family circle. The +evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its +animation, and almost all its sense, by the absence of Jane and +Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough bass and human +nature; and had some new extracts to admire and some new observations of +threadbare morality to listen to. Catherine and Lydia had information +for them of a different sort. Much had been done, and much had been said +in the regiment since the preceding Wednesday; several of the officers +had dined lately with their uncle; a private had been flogged; and it +had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_78">{78}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a><img src="images/i_107_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<p class="nind"> +<span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_107_b.png" +width="70" +alt="“I"></span> +hope, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at +breakfast the next morning, “that you have ordered a good dinner to-day, +because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”</p> + +<p>“Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, +unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in; and I hope <i>my</i> dinners +are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.”</p> + +<p>“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman and a stranger.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled. “A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. +Bingley, I am sure. Why, Jane—you never dropped a word of this—you sly +thing! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. +But—good Lord! how unlucky! there is not a bit of fish to be got +to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must speak to Hill this +moment.”</p> + +<p>“It is <i>not</i> Mr. Bingley,” said her husband; “it is a person whom I +never saw in the whole course of my life.”</p> + +<p>This roused a general astonishment; and he had the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_79">{79}</a></span> pleasure of being +eagerly questioned by his wife and five daughters at once.</p> + +<p>After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus +explained:—“About a month ago I received this letter, and about a +fortnight ago I answered it; for I thought it a case of some delicacy, +and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, +when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he +pleases.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear,” cried his wife, “I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. +Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing +in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own +children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago +to do something or other about it.”</p> + +<p>Jane and Elizabeth attempted to explain to her the nature of an entail. +They had often attempted it before: but it was a subject on which Mrs. +Bennet was beyond the reach of reason; and she continued to rail +bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of +five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.</p> + +<p>“It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,” said Mr. Bennet; “and +nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. +But if you will listen to his letter, you may, perhaps, be a little +softened by his manner of expressing himself.”</p> + +<p>“No, that I am sure I shall not: and I think it was very impertinent of +him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false +friends. Why could not he keep on quarrelling with you, as his father +did before him?”</p> + +<p>“Why, indeed, he does seem to have had some filial scruples on that +head, as you will hear.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_80">{80}</a></span>”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="rt">“Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, <i>15th October</i>.</p> + +<p class="nind"> +“Dear Sir,<br> +</p> + +<p>“The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured +father always gave me much uneasiness; and, since I have had the +misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the +breach: but, for some time, I was kept back by my own doubts, +fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be +on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be +at variance.”—‘There, Mrs. Bennet.’—“My mind, however, is now +made up on the subject; for, having received ordination at Easter, +I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of +the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis +de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the +valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest +endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her +Ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies +which are instituted by the Church of England. As a clergyman, +moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing +of peace in all families within the reach of my influence; and on +these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures of +good-will are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my +being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly +overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered +olive branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the +means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to +apologize for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make +them every possible amends; but of this hereafter. If you should +have no objection to receive me into<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_81">{81}</a></span> your house, I propose myself +the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday, +November 18th, by four o’clock, and shall probably trespass on your +hospitality till the Saturday se’nnight following, which I can do +without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is far from objecting +to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other +clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day. I remain, dear sir, +with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your +well-wisher and friend,</p> + +<p class="r"> +“<span class="smcap">William Collins</span>.”<br> +</p></div> + +<p>“At four o’clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman,” +said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. “He seems to be a most +conscientious and polite young man, upon my word; and, I doubt not, will +prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be so +indulgent as to let him come to us again.”</p> + +<p>“There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however; and, if +he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to +discourage him.”</p> + +<p>“Though it is difficult,” said Jane, “to guess in what way he can mean +to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to his +credit.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was chiefly struck with his extraordinary deference for Lady +Catherine, and his kind intention of christening, marrying, and burying +his parishioners whenever it were required.</p> + +<p>“He must be an oddity, I think,” said she. “I cannot make him out. There +is something very pompous in his style. And what can he mean by +apologizing for being next in the entail? We cannot suppose he would +help it, if he could. Can he be a sensible man, sir?”</p> + +<p>“No, my dear; I think not. I have great hopes of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_82">{82}</a></span> finding him quite the +reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his +letter which promises well. I am impatient to see him.”</p> + +<p>“In point of composition,” said Mary, “his letter does not seem +defective. The idea of the olive branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I +think it is well expressed.”</p> + +<p>To Catherine and Lydia neither the letter nor its writer were in any +degree interesting. It was next to impossible that their cousin should +come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since they had +received pleasure from the society of a man in any other colour. As for +their mother, Mr. Collins’s letter had done away much of her ill-will, +and she was preparing to see him with a degree of composure which +astonished her husband and daughters.</p> + +<p>Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great +politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said little; but the +ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins seemed neither in need +of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall, +heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and +stately, and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated +before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of +daughters, said he had heard much of their beauty, but that, in this +instance, fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that he did not +doubt her seeing them all in due time well disposed of in marriage. This +gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers; but Mrs. +Bennet, who quarrelled with no compliments, answered most readily,—</p> + +<p>“You are very kind, sir, I am sure; and I wish with all<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_83">{83}</a></span> my heart it may +prove so; for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so +oddly.”</p> + +<p>“You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you +must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with <i>you</i>, for such things, +I know, are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates +will go when once they come to be entailed.”</p> + +<p>“I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and +could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing +forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come +prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more, but, perhaps, +when we are better acquainted——”</p> + +<p>He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; and the girls smiled on each +other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Collins’s admiration. The +hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture, were examined and praised; +and his commendation of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet’s +heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his +own future property. The dinner, too, in its turn, was highly admired; +and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellence of its +cookery was owing. But here he was set right by Mrs. Bennet, who assured +him, with some asperity, that they were very well able to keep a good +cook, and that her daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen. He begged +pardon for having displeased her. In a softened tone she declared +herself not at all offended; but he continued to apologize for about a +quarter of an hour.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_84">{84}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a><img src="images/i_113_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<p class="nind"> +<span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_113_b.png" +width="100" +alt="D"></span>URING dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all; but when the servants +were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some conversation with his +guest, and therefore started a subject in which he expected him to +shine, by observing that he seemed very fortunate in his patroness. Lady +Catherine de Bourgh’s attention to his wishes, and consideration for his +comfort, appeared very remarkable. Mr. Bennet could not have chosen +better. Mr. Collins was eloquent in her praise. The subject elevated him +to more than usual solemnity of manner; and with a most important aspect +he protested that he had never in his life witnessed such behaviour in a +person of rank—such affability and condescension, as he had himself +experienced from Lady Catherine. She had been graciously pleased to +approve of both the discourses which he had already had the honour of +preaching before her. She had also asked him twice to dine at Rosings, +and had sent for him only the Saturday before, to make up her pool of +quadrille in the evening. Lady Catherine was reckoned proud by many +people, he knew, but <i>he</i> had never seen anything but affability in her. +She had always spoken to him as she would to any other gentleman; she +made not the smallest objection to his joining in the society of the +neighbourhood, nor to his leaving his parish occasionally<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_85">{85}</a></span> for a week or +two to visit his relations. She had even condescended to advise him to +marry as soon as he could, provided he chose with discretion; and had +once paid him a visit in his humble parsonage, where she had perfectly +approved all the alterations he had been making, and had even vouchsafed +to suggest some herself,—some shelves in the closets upstairs.</p> + +<p>“That is all very proper and civil, I am sure,” said Mrs. Bennet, “and I +dare say she is a very agreeable woman. It is a pity that great ladies +in general are not more like her. Does she live near you, sir?”</p> + +<p>“The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only by a lane +from Rosings Park, her Ladyship’s residence.”</p> + +<p>“I think you said she was a widow, sir? has she any family?”</p> + +<p>“She has one only daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very +extensive property.”</p> + +<p>“Ah,” cried Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, “then she is better off than +many girls. And what sort of young lady is she? Is she handsome?”</p> + +<p>“She is a most charming young lady, indeed. Lady Catherine herself says +that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the +handsomest of her sex; because there is that in her features which marks +the young woman of distinguished birth. She is unfortunately of a sickly +constitution, which has prevented her making that progress in many +accomplishments which she could not otherwise have failed of, as I am +informed by the lady who superintended her education, and who still +resides with them. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends +to drive by my humble abode in her little phaeton and ponies.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_86">{86}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies at +court.”</p> + +<p>“Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town; +and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine myself one day, has deprived +the British Court of its brightest ornament. Her Ladyship seemed pleased +with the idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on every occasion to +offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to +ladies. I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that her +charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess; and that the most +elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, would be adorned by +her. These are the kind of little things which please her Ladyship, and +it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to +pay.”</p> + +<p>“You judge very properly,” said Mr. Bennet; “and it is happy for you +that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask +whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the +moment, or are the result of previous study?”</p> + +<p>“They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time; and though I +sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant +compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to +give them as unstudied an air as possible.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bennet’s expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd +as he had hoped; and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment, +maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance, +and, except in an occasional glance at Elizabeth, requiring no partner +in his pleasure.</p> + +<p>By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_87">{87}</a></span> Mr. Bennet was glad +to take his guest into the drawing-room again, and when tea was over, +glad to invite him</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 361px;"> +<img src="images/i_116.jpg" width="361" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<p> +“Protested<br> +that he never read novels” H.T Feb 94<br> +</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="nind">to read aloud to the ladies. Mr. Collins readily assented, and a book +was produced; but on beholding it (for everything announced it to be +from a circulating library)<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_88">{88}</a></span> he started back, and, begging pardon, +protested that he never read novels. Kitty stared at him, and Lydia +exclaimed. Other books were produced, and after some deliberation he +chose “Fordyce’s Sermons.” Lydia gaped as he opened the volume; and +before he had, with very monotonous solemnity, read three pages, she +interrupted him with,—</p> + +<p>“Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Philips talks of turning away +Richard? and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My aunt told me +so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton to-morrow to hear more +about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town.”</p> + +<p>Lydia was bid by her two eldest sisters to hold her tongue; but Mr. +Collins, much offended, laid aside his book, and said,—</p> + +<p>“I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by books +of a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. It amazes +me, I confess; for certainly there can be nothing so advantageous to +them as instruction. But I will no longer importune my young cousin.”</p> + +<p>Then, turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself as his antagonist at +backgammon. Mr. Bennet accepted the challenge, observing that he acted +very wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling amusements. Mrs. +Bennet and her daughters apologized most civilly for Lydia’s +interruption, and promised that it should not occur again, if he would +resume his book; but Mr. Collins, after assuring them that he bore his +young cousin no ill-will, and should never resent her behaviour as any +affront, seated himself at another table with Mr. Bennet, and prepared +for backgammon.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_89">{89}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XV"></a><img src="images/i_118_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_118_b.png" +width="100" +alt="M"></span>R. COLLINS was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had +been but little assisted by education or society; the greatest part of +his life having been spent under the guidance of an illiterate and +miserly father; and though he belonged to one of the universities, he +had merely kept the necessary terms without forming at it any useful +acquaintance. The subjection in which his father had brought him up had +given him originally great humility of manner; but it was now a good +deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head, living in +retirement, and the consequential feelings of early and unexpected +prosperity. A fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Catherine de +Bourgh when the living of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which he +felt for her high rank, and his veneration for her as his patroness, +mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a +clergyman, and his right as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of +pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility.</p> + +<p>Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to +marry; and in seeking a reconciliation with the Longbourn family he had +a wife in view, as he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_90">{90}</a></span> meant to choose one of the daughters, if he found +them as handsome and amiable as they were represented by common report. +This was his plan of amends—of atonement—for inheriting their father’s +estate; and he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility and +suitableness, and excessively generous and disinterested on his own +part.</p> + +<p>His plan did not vary on seeing them. Miss Bennet’s lovely face +confirmed his views, and established all his strictest notions of what +was due to seniority; and for the first evening <i>she</i> was his settled +choice. The next morning, however, made an alteration; for in a quarter +of an hour’s <i>tête-à-tête</i> with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast, a +conversation beginning with his parsonage-house, and leading naturally +to the avowal of his hopes, that a mistress for it might be found at +Longbourn, produced from her, amid very complaisant smiles and general +encouragement, a caution against the very Jane he had fixed on. “As to +her <i>younger</i> daughters, she could not take upon her to say—she could +not positively answer—but she did not <i>know</i> of any prepossession;—her +<i>eldest</i> daughter she must just mention—she felt it incumbent on her to +hint, was likely to be very soon engaged.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth—and it was soon +done—done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. Elizabeth, equally +next to Jane in birth and beauty, succeeded her of course.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon have +two daughters married; and the man whom she could not bear to speak of +the day before, was now high in her good graces.</p> + +<p>Lydia’s intention of walking to Meryton was not for<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_91">{91}</a></span>gotten: every sister +except Mary agreed to go with her; and Mr. Collins was to attend them, +at the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most anxious to get rid of him, +and have his library to himself; for thither Mr. Collins had followed +him after breakfast, and there he would continue, nominally engaged with +one of the largest folios in the collection, but really talking to Mr. +Bennet, with little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such +doings discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his library he had been +always sure of leisure and tranquillity; and though prepared, as he told +Elizabeth, to meet with folly and conceit in every other room in the +house, he was used to be free from them there: his civility, therefore, +was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their +walk; and Mr. Collins, being in fact much better fitted for a walker +than a reader, was extremely well pleased to close his large book, and +go.</p> + +<p>In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his +cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton. The attention of +the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by <i>him</i>. Their eyes +were immediately wandering up the street in quest of the officers, and +nothing less than a very smart bonnet, indeed, or a really new muslin in +a shop window, could recall them.</p> + +<p>But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom +they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking +with an officer on the other side of the way. The officer was the very +Mr. Denny concerning whose return from London Lydia came to inquire, and +he bowed as they passed. All were struck with the stranger’s air, all +wondered who he could be; and Kitty and Lydia, determined if possible<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_92">{92}</a></span> +to find out, led the way across the street, under pretence of wanting +something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the +pavement, when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same +spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and entreated permission to +introduce his friend, Mr. Wickham, who had returned with him the day +before from town, and, he was happy to say, had accepted a commission in +their corps. This was exactly as it should be; for the young man wanted +only regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was +greatly in his favour: he had all the best parts of beauty, a fine +countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction +was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation—a +readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the +whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably, +when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were +seen riding down the street. On distinguishing the ladies of the group +the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual +civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the +principal object. He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn on +purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with a bow, and +was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they +were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger; and Elizabeth +happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, +was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, +one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, +touched his hat—a salutation which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return. +What could be the meaning of it?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_93">{93}</a></span> It was impossible to imagine; it was +impossible not to long to know.</p> + +<p>In another minute Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have noticed what +passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.</p> + +<p>Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door of +Mr. Philips’s house, and then made their bows, in spite of Miss Lydia’s +pressing entreaties that they would come in, and even in spite of Mrs. +Philips’s throwing up the parlour window, and loudly seconding the +invitation.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Philips was always glad to see her nieces; and the two eldest, from +their recent absence, were particularly welcome; and she was eagerly +expressing her surprise at their sudden return home, which, as their own +carriage had not fetched them, she should have known nothing about, if +she had not happened to see Mr. Jones’s shopboy in the street, who had +told her that they were not to send any more draughts to Netherfield, +because the Miss Bennets were come away, when her civility was claimed +towards Mr. Collins by Jane’s introduction of him. She received him with +her very best politeness, which he returned with as much more, +apologizing for his intrusion, without any previous acquaintance with +her, which he could not help flattering himself, however, might be +justified by his relationship to the young ladies who introduced him to +her notice. Mrs. Philips was quite awed by such an excess of good +breeding; but her contemplation of one stranger was soon put an end to +by exclamations and inquiries about the other, of whom, however, she +could only tell her nieces what they already knew, that Mr. Denny had +brought him from London, and that he was to have a lieutenant’s +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_94">{94}</a></span>commission in the ——shire. She had been watching him the last hour, +she said, as he walked up and down the street,—and had Mr. Wickham +appeared, Kitty and Lydia would certainly have continued the occupation; +but unluckily no one passed the windows now except a few of the +officers, who, in comparison with the stranger, were become “stupid, +disagreeable fellows.” Some of them were to dine with the Philipses the +next day, and their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr. +Wickham, and give him an invitation also, if the family from Longbourn +would come in the evening. This was agreed to; and Mrs. Philips +protested that they would have a nice comfortable noisy game of lottery +tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards. The prospect of such +delights was very cheering, and they parted in mutual good spirits. Mr. +Collins repeated his apologies in quitting the room, and was assured, +with unwearying civility, that they were perfectly needless.</p> + +<p>As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what she had seen pass +between the two gentlemen; but though Jane would have defended either or +both, had they appeared to be wrong, she could no more explain such +behaviour than her sister.</p> + +<p>Mr. Collins on his return highly gratified Mrs. Bennet by admiring Mrs. +Philips’s manners and politeness. He protested that, except Lady +Catherine and her daughter, he had never seen a more elegant woman; for +she had not only received him with the utmost civility, but had even +pointedly included him in her invitation for the next evening, although +utterly unknown to her before. Something, he supposed, might be +attributed to his connection with them, but yet he had never met with so +much attention in the whole course of his life.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_95">{95}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a><img src="images/i_124_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_124_b.png" +width="100" +alt="A"></span>S no objection was made to the young people’s engagement with their +aunt, and all Mr. Collins’s scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for +a single evening during his visit were most steadily resisted, the coach +conveyed him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton; and the +girls had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawing-room, +that Mr. Wickham had<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_96">{96}</a></span> accepted their uncle’s invitation, and was then in +the house.</p> + +<p>When this information was given, and they had all taken their seats, Mr. +Collins was at leisure to look around him and admire, and he was so much +struck with the size and furniture of the apartment, that he declared he +might almost have supposed himself in the small summer breakfast parlour +at Rosings; a comparison that did not at first convey much +gratification; but when Mrs. Philips understood from him what Rosings +was, and who was its proprietor, when she had listened to the +description of only one of Lady Catherine’s drawing-rooms, and found +that the chimney-piece alone had cost eight hundred pounds, she felt all +the force of the compliment, and would hardly have resented a comparison +with the housekeeper’s room.</p> + +<p>In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion, +with occasional digressions in praise of his own humble abode, and the +improvements it was receiving, he was happily employed until the +gentlemen joined them; and he found in Mrs. Philips a very attentive +listener, whose opinion of his consequence increased with what she +heard, and who was resolving to retail it all among her neighbours as +soon as she could. To the girls, who could not listen to their cousin, +and who had nothing to do but to wish for an instrument, and examine +their own indifferent imitations of china on the mantel-piece, the +interval of waiting appeared very long. It was over at last, however. +The gentlemen did approach: and when Mr. Wickham walked into the room, +Elizabeth felt that she had neither been seeing him before, nor thinking +of him since, with the smallest degree of <span class="pagenum"><a id="page_97">{97}</a></span>unreasonable admiration. The +officers of the ——shire were in general a very creditable, +gentlemanlike set and the best of them were of the present party; but +Mr, Wickham was as far beyond them all in person, countenance, air, and +walk, as <i>they</i> were superior to the broad-faced stuffy uncle Philips, +breathing port wine, who followed them into the room.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 391px;"> +<img src="images/i_126.jpg" width="391" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<p> +“The officers of the ——shire”<br> +</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was +turned, and Elizabeth was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_98">{98}</a></span> the happy woman by whom he finally seated +himself; and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into +conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, and on the +probability of a rainy season, made her feel that the commonest, +dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the +skill of the speaker.</p> + +<p>With such rivals for the notice of the fair as Mr. Wickham and the +officers, Mr. Collins seemed to sink into insignificance; to the young +ladies he certainly was nothing; but he had still at intervals a kind +listener in Mrs. Philips, and was, by her watchfulness, most abundantly +supplied with coffee and muffin.</p> + +<p>When the card tables were placed, he had an opportunity of obliging her, +in return, by sitting down to whist.</p> + +<p>“I know little of the game at present,” said he, “but I shall be glad to +improve myself; for in my situation of life——” Mrs. Philips was very +thankful for his compliance, but could not wait for his reason.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wickham did not play at whist, and with ready delight was he +received at the other table between Elizabeth and Lydia. At first there +seemed danger of Lydia’s engrossing him entirely, for she was a most +determined talker; but being likewise extremely fond of lottery tickets, +she soon grew too much interested in the game, too eager in making bets +and exclaiming after prizes, to have attention for anyone in particular. +Allowing for the common demands of the game, Mr. Wickham was therefore +at leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him, +though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told, +the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not even +mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, how<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_99">{99}</a></span>ever, was unexpectedly +relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself. He inquired how far +Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in +a hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there.</p> + +<p>“About a month,” said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the subject +drop, added, “he is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I +understand.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied Wickham; “his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten +thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of +giving you certain information on that head than myself—for I have been +connected with his family, in a particular manner, from my infancy.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth could not but look surprised.</p> + +<p>“You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after +seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting +yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?”</p> + +<p>“As much as I ever wish to be,” cried Elizabeth, warmly. “I have spent +four days in the same house with him, and I think him very +disagreeable.”</p> + +<p>“I have no right to give <i>my</i> opinion,” said Wickham, “as to his being +agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him +too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for <i>me</i> to +be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general +astonish—and, perhaps, you would not express it quite so strongly +anywhere else. Here you are in your own family.”</p> + +<p>“Upon my word I say no more <i>here</i> than I might say in any house in the +neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in +Hertfordshire. Everybody is<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_100">{100}</a></span> disgusted with his pride. You will not find +him more favourably spoken of by anyone.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot pretend to be sorry,” said Wickham, after a short +interruption, “that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond +their deserts; but with <i>him</i> I believe it does not often happen. The +world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his +high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen.”</p> + +<p>“I should take him, even on <i>my</i> slight acquaintance, to be an +ill-tempered man.”</p> + +<p>Wickham only shook his head.</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, “whether he is +likely to be in this country much longer.”</p> + +<p>“I do not at all know; but I <i>heard</i> nothing of his going away when I +was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the ——shire will +not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.”</p> + +<p>“Oh no—it is not for <i>me</i> to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If <i>he</i> +wishes to avoid seeing <i>me</i> he must go. We are not on friendly terms, +and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for +avoiding <i>him</i> but what I might proclaim to all the world—a sense of +very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is. +His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men +that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be +in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a +thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been +scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and +everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the +memory of his father.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_101">{101}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with +all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the +neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he +had yet seen, and speaking of the latter, especially, with gentle but +very intelligible gallantry.</p> + +<p>“It was the prospect of constant society, and good society,” he added, +“which was my chief inducement to enter the ——shire. I know it to be a +most respectable, agreeable corps; and my friend Denny tempted me +further by his account of their present quarters, and the very great +attentions and excellent acquaintance Meryton had procured them. +Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and +my spirits will not bear solitude. I <i>must</i> have employment and society. +A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have +now made it eligible. The church <i>ought</i> to have been my profession—I +was brought up for the church; and I should at this time have been in +possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we +were speaking of just now.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!”</p> + +<p>“Yes—the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best +living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. +I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, +and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given +elsewhere.”</p> + +<p>“Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth; “but how could <i>that</i> be? How could his +will be disregarded? Why did not you seek legal redress?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_102">{102}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to +give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the +intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it—or to treat it as a merely +conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim +to it by extravagance, imprudence, in short, anything or nothing. +Certain it is that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I +was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no +less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done +anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm unguarded temper, and I +may perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion <i>of</i> him, and <i>to</i> him, too +freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very +different sort of men, and that he hates me.”</p> + +<p>“This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”</p> + +<p>“Some time or other he <i>will</i> be—but it shall not be by <i>me</i>. Till I +can forget his father, I can never defy or expose <i>him</i>.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings, and thought him handsomer than +ever as he expressed them.</p> + +<p>“But what,” said she, after a pause, “can have been his motive? what can +have induced him to behave so cruelly?”</p> + +<p>“A thorough, determined dislike of me—a dislike which I cannot but +attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Darcy liked me +less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father’s uncommon +attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had +not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood—the sort +of preference which was often given me.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_103">{103}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this—though I have never liked +him, I had not thought so very ill of him—I had supposed him to be +despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of +descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as +this!”</p> + +<p>After a few minutes’ reflection, however, she continued, “I <i>do</i> +remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of the implacability of +his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper. His disposition +must be dreadful.”</p> + +<p>“I will not trust myself on the subject,” replied Wickham; “<i>I</i> can +hardly be just to him.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was again deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed, “To +treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite of his +father!” She could have added, “A young man, too, like <i>you</i>, whose very +countenance may vouch for your being amiable.” But she contented herself +with—“And one, too, who had probably been his own companion from +childhood, connected together, as I think you said, in the closest +manner.”</p> + +<p>“We were born in the same parish, within the same park; the greatest +part of our youth was passed together: inmates of the same house, +sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. <i>My</i> +father began life in the profession which your uncle, Mr. Philips, +appears to do so much credit to; but he gave up everything to be of use +to the late Mr. Darcy, and devoted all his time to the care of the +Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most +intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Darcy often acknowledged himself to +be under the greatest obligations to my father’s active superintendence; +and when, immediately before my father’s death, Mr. Darcy gave him a +voluntary promise<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_104">{104}</a></span> of providing for me, I am convinced that he felt it +to be as much a debt of gratitude to <i>him</i> as of affection to myself.”</p> + +<p>“How strange!” cried Elizabeth. “How abominable! I wonder that the very +pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you. If from no better +motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest,—for +dishonesty I must call it.”</p> + +<p>“It <i>is</i> wonderful,” replied Wickham; “for almost all his actions may be +traced to pride; and pride has often been his best friend. It has +connected him nearer with virtue than any other feeling. But we are none +of us consistent; and in his behaviour to me there were stronger +impulses even than pride.”</p> + +<p>“Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; it has often led him to be liberal and generous; to give his money +freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the +poor. Family pride, and <i>filial</i> pride, for he is very proud of what his +father was, have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to +degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the +Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also <i>brotherly</i> pride, +which, with <i>some</i> brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and +careful guardian of his sister; and you will hear him generally cried up +as the most attentive and best of brothers.”</p> + +<p>“What sort of a girl is Miss Darcy?”</p> + +<p>He shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to +speak ill of a Darcy; but she is too much like her brother,—very, very +proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond +of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amuse<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_105">{105}</a></span>ment. But she is +nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, +and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father’s death her +home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her +education.”</p> + +<p>After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth could not +help reverting once more to the first, and saying,—</p> + +<p>“I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley. How can Mr. Bingley, +who seems good-humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable, +be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you +know Mr. Bingley?”</p> + +<p>“Not at all.”</p> + +<p>“He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. +Darcy is.”</p> + +<p>“Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not +want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth +his while. Among those who are at all his equals in consequence, he is a +very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride +never deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just, +sincere, rational, honourable, and, perhaps, agreeable,—allowing +something for fortune and figure.”</p> + +<p>The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the players gathered round +the other table, and Mr. Collins took his station between his cousin +Elizabeth and Mrs. Philips. The usual inquiries as to his success were +made by the latter. It had not been very great; he had lost every point; +but when Mrs. Philips began to express her concern thereupon, he assured +her, with much earnest gravity, that it was not of the least importance; +that he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_106">{106}</a></span> considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged she would not +make herself uneasy.</p> + +<p>“I know very well, madam,” said he, “that when persons sit down to a +card table they must take their chance of these things,—and happily I +am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There +are, undoubtedly, many who could not say the same; but, thanks to Lady +Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding +little matters.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Wickham’s attention was caught; and after observing Mr. Collins for +a few moments, he asked Elizabeth in a low voice whether her relations +were very intimately acquainted with the family of De Bourgh.</p> + +<p>“Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” she replied, “has very lately given him a +living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her +notice, but he certainly has not known her long.”</p> + +<p>“You know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy +were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy.”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine’s +connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before +yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and it is +believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.”</p> + +<p>This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor Miss +Bingley. Vain indeed must be all her attentions, vain and useless her +affection for his sister and her praise of himself, if he were already +self-destined to another.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Collins,” said she, “speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her +daughter; but, from some particulars<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_107">{107}</a></span> that he has related of her +Ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him; and that, in spite of +her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman.”</p> + +<p>“I believe her to be both in a great degree,” replied Wickham; “I have +not seen her for many years; but I very well remember that I never liked +her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She has the +reputation of being remarkably sensible and clever; but I rather believe +she derives part of her abilities from her rank and fortune, part from +her authoritative manner, and the rest from the pride of her nephew, who +chooses that everyone connected with him should have an understanding of +the first class.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth allowed that he had given a very rational account of it, and +they continued talking together with mutual satisfaction till supper put +an end to cards, and gave the rest of the ladies their share of Mr. +Wickham’s attentions. There could be no conversation in the noise of +Mrs. Philips’s supper party, but his manners recommended him to +everybody. Whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done +gracefully. Elizabeth went away with her head full of him. She could +think of nothing but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all +the way home; but there was not time for her even to mention his name as +they went, for neither Lydia nor Mr. Collins were once silent. Lydia +talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had lost and the +fish she had won; and Mr. Collins, in describing the civility of Mr. and +Mrs. Philips, protesting that he did not in the least regard his losses +at whist, enumerating all the dishes at supper, and repeatedly fearing +that he crowded his cousins, had more to say than he could well manage +before the carriage stopped at Longbourn House.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_108">{108}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a><img src="images/i_137_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +delighted to see their dear friend again. +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_137_b.png" +width="100" +alt="E"></span>LIZABETH related to Jane, the next day, what had passed between Mr. +Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern: she +knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr. +Bingley’s regard; and yet it was not in her nature to question the +veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. The +possibility of his having really endured such unkindness was enough to +interest all her tender feelings; and nothing therefore remained to be +done but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each, and +throw into the account of accident or mistake whatever could not be +otherwise explained.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_109">{109}</a></span></p> + +<p>“They have both,” said she, “been deceived, I dare say, in some way or +other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps +misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to +conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, +without actual blame on either side.”</p> + +<p>“Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, what have you got to say in +behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the +business? Do clear <i>them</i>, too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of +somebody.”</p> + +<p>“Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my +opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light +it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father’s favourite in such a +manner,—one whom his father had promised to provide for. It is +impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his +character, could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so +excessively deceived in him? Oh no.”</p> + +<p>“I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley’s being imposed on than that +Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last +night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not +so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks.”</p> + +<p>“It is difficult, indeed—it is distressing. One does not know what to +think.”</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon;—one knows exactly what to think.”</p> + +<p>But Jane could think with certainty on only one point,—that Mr. +Bingley, if he <i>had been</i> imposed on,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_110">{110}</a></span> would have much to suffer when +the affair became public.</p> + +<p>The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery, where this +conversation passed, by the arrival of some of the very persons of whom +they had been speaking; Mr. Bingley and his sisters came to give their +personal invitation for the long expected ball at Netherfield, which was +fixed for the following Tuesday. The two ladies were delighted to see +their dear friend again, called it an age since they had met, and +repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since their +separation. To the rest of the family they paid little attention; +avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying not much to Elizabeth, +and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone again, rising from +their seats with an activity which took their brother by surprise, and +hurrying off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet’s civilities.</p> + +<p>The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every +female of the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as given in +compliment to her eldest daughter, and was particularly flattered by +receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself, instead of a +ceremonious card. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the +society of her two friends, and the attentions of their brother; and +Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing a great deal with Mr. +Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Mr. Darcy’s look +and behaviour. The happiness anticipated by Catherine and Lydia depended +less on any single event, or any particular person; for though they +each, like Elizabeth, meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Wickham, +he was by no means the only partner who<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_111">{111}</a></span> could satisfy them, and a ball +was, at any rate, a ball. And even Mary could assure her family that she +had no disinclination for it.</p> + +<p>“While I can have my mornings to myself,” said she, “it is enough. I +think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. +Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who +consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for +everybody.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth’s spirits were so high on the occasion, that though she did +not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking +him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley’s invitation, and if he +did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening’s +amusement; and she was rather surprised to find that he entertained no +scruple whatever on that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke, +either from the Archbishop or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to +dance.</p> + +<p>“I am by no means of opinion, I assure you,” said he, “that a ball of +this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can +have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing +myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair +cousins in the course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of +soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially; a +preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right +cause, and not to any disrespect for her.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth felt herself completely taken in. She had fully proposed being +engaged by Wickham for those very dances; and to have Mr. Collins +instead!—her liveliness had been never worse timed. There was no<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_112">{112}</a></span> help +for it, however. Mr. Wickham’s happiness and her own was perforce +delayed a little longer, and Mr. Collins’s proposal accepted with as +good a grace as she could. She was not the better pleased with his +gallantry, from the idea it suggested of something more. It now first +struck her, that <i>she</i> was selected from among her sisters as worthy of +being the mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form a +quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more eligible visitors. +The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed his increasing +civilities towards herself, and heard his frequent attempt at a +compliment on her wit and vivacity; and though more astonished than +gratified herself by this effect of her charms, it was not long before +her mother gave her to understand that the probability of their marriage +was exceedingly agreeable to <i>her</i>. Elizabeth, however, did not choose +to take the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the +consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins might never make the offer, and, +till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him.</p> + +<p>If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for and talk of, the +younger Miss Bennets would have been in a pitiable state at this time; +for, from the day of the invitation to the day of the ball, there was +such a succession of rain as prevented their walking to Meryton once. No +aunt, no officers, no news could be sought after; the very shoe-roses +for Netherfield were got by proxy. Even Elizabeth might have found some +trial of her patience in weather which totally suspended the improvement +of her acquaintance with Mr. Wickham; and nothing less than a dance on +Tuesday could have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday +endurable to Kitty and Lydia.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_113">{113}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a><img src="images/i_142_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_142_b.png" +width="100" +alt="T"></span>ILL Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield, and looked in +vain for Mr. Wickham among the cluster of red coats there assembled, a +doubt of his being present had never occurred to her. The certainty of +meeting him had not been checked by any of those recollections that +might not unreasonably have alarmed her. She had dressed with more than +usual care, and prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all +that remained unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it was not more than +might be won in the course of the evening. But in an<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_114">{114}</a></span> instant arose the +dreadful suspicion of his being purposely omitted, for Mr. Darcy’s +pleasure, in the Bingleys’ invitation to the officers; and though this +was not exactly the case, the absolute fact of his absence was +pronounced by his friend Mr. Denny, to whom Lydia eagerly applied, and +who told them that Wickham had been obliged to go to town on business +the day before, and was not yet returned; adding, with a significant +smile,—</p> + +<p>“I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now, if +he had not wished to avoid a certain gentleman here.”</p> + +<p>This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Lydia, was caught by +Elizabeth; and, as it assured her that Darcy was not less answerable for +Wickham’s absence than if her first surmise had been just, every feeling +of displeasure against the former was so sharpened by immediate +disappointment, that she could hardly reply with tolerable civility to +the polite inquiries which he directly afterwards approached to make. +Attention, forbearance, patience with Darcy, was injury to Wickham. She +was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and turned away +with a degree of ill-humour which she could not wholly surmount even in +speaking to Mr. Bingley, whose blind partiality provoked her.</p> + +<p>But Elizabeth was not formed for ill-humour; and though every prospect +of her own was destroyed for the evening, it could not dwell long on her +spirits; and, having told all her griefs to Charlotte Lucas, whom she +had not seen for a week, she was soon able to make a voluntary +transition to the oddities of her cousin, and to point him out to her +particular notice. The two first dances, however, brought a return of +distress: they were dances of mortification. Mr. Collins, awkward and +solemn,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_115">{115}</a></span> apologizing instead of attending, and often moving wrong +without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery which a +disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. The moment of her +release from him was ecstasy.</p> + +<p>She danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment of talking of +Wickham, and of hearing that he was universally liked. When those dances +were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and was in conversation with +her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy, who took +her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without +knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again +immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of +mind: Charlotte tried to console her.</p> + +<p>“I dare say you will find him very agreeable.”</p> + +<p>“Heaven forbid! <i>That</i> would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find +a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an +evil.”</p> + +<p>When the dancing recommenced, however, and Darcy approached to claim her +hand, Charlotte could not help cautioning her, in a whisper, not to be a +simpleton, and allow her fancy for Wickham to make her appear unpleasant +in the eyes of a man often times his consequence. Elizabeth made no +answer, and took her place in the set, amazed at the dignity to which +she was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Mr. Darcy, and +reading in her neighbours’ looks their equal amazement in beholding it. +They stood for some time without speaking a word; and she began to +imagine that their silence was to last through the two dances, and, at +first, was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it +would be the greater punishment to her partner to oblige him to talk,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_116">{116}</a></span> +she made some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again +silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time, +with—</p> + +<p>“It is <i>your</i> turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. <i>I</i> talked about the +dance, and <i>you</i> ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the +room, or the number of couples.”</p> + +<p>He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be +said.</p> + +<p>“Very well; that reply will do for the present. Perhaps, by-and-by, I +may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones; but +<i>now</i> we may be silent.”</p> + +<p>“Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?”</p> + +<p>“Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be +entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet, for the advantage of +<i>some</i>, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have the +trouble of saying as little as possible.”</p> + +<p>“Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you +imagine that you are gratifying mine?”</p> + +<p>“Both,” replied Elizabeth archly; “for I have always seen a great +similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, +taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say +something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to +posterity with all the <i>éclat</i> of a proverb.”</p> + +<p>“This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,” +said he. “How near it may be to <i>mine</i>, I cannot pretend to say. <i>You</i> +think it a faithful portrait, undoubtedly.”</p> + +<p>“I must not decide on my own performance.”</p> + +<p>He made no answer; and they were again silent till they had gone down +the dance, when he asked her if she<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_117">{117}</a></span> and her sisters did not very often +walk to Meryton. She answered in the affirmative; and, unable to resist +the temptation, added, “When you met us there the other day, we had just +been forming a new acquaintance.”</p> + +<p>The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of <i>hauteur</i> overspread his +features, but he said not a word; and Elizabeth, though blaming herself +for her own weakness, could not go on. At length Darcy spoke, and in a +constrained manner said,—</p> + +<p>“Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may insure his +<i>making</i> friends; whether he may be equally capable of <i>retaining</i> them, +is less certain.”</p> + +<p>“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” replied Elizabeth, +with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all +his life.”</p> + +<p>Darcy made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the subject. At +that moment Sir William Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to pass +through the set to the other side of the room; but, on perceiving Mr. +Darcy, he stopped, with a bow of superior courtesy, to compliment him on +his dancing and his partner.</p> + +<p>“I have been most highly gratified, indeed, my dear sir; such very +superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the +first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not +disgrace you: and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, +especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss Eliza (glancing +at her sister and Bingley), shall take place. What congratulations will +then flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy;—but let me not interrupt you, sir. +You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of +that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_118">{118}</a></span>”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 444px;"> +<img src="images/i_147.jpg" width="444" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<p> +“Such very superior dancing is not<br> +often seen.”<br> +</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy; but Sir +William’s allusion to his friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and his +eyes were directed, with a very serious expression, towards Bingley and +Jane, who were dancing together. Recovering himself, however, shortly, +he turned to his partner, and said,—</p> + +<p>“Sir William’s interruption has made me forget what we were talking +of.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_119">{119}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have +interrupted any two people in the room who had less to say for +themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success, +and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine.”</p> + +<p>“What think you of books?” said he, smiling.</p> + +<p>“Books—oh no!—I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same +feelings.”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be +no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions.”</p> + +<p>“No—I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full of +something else.”</p> + +<p>“The <i>present</i> always occupies you in such scenes—does it?” said he, +with a look of doubt.</p> + +<p>“Yes, always,” she replied, without knowing what she said; for her +thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon afterwards appeared +by her suddenly exclaiming, “I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, +that you hardly ever forgave;—that your resentment, once created, was +unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its <i>being +created</i>?”</p> + +<p>“I am,” said he, with a firm voice.</p> + +<p>“And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”</p> + +<p>“I hope not.”</p> + +<p>“It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, +to be secure of judging properly at first.”</p> + +<p>“May I ask to what these questions tend?”</p> + +<p>“Merely to the illustration of <i>your</i> character,” said she, endeavouring +to shake off her gravity. “I am trying to make it out.”</p> + +<p>“And what is your success?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_120">{120}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>She shook her head. “I do not get on at all. I hear such different +accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”</p> + +<p>“I can readily believe,” answered he, gravely, “that reports may vary +greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were +not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to +fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.”</p> + +<p>“But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another +opportunity.”</p> + +<p>“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” he coldly replied. +She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in +silence; on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree; for +in Darcy’s breast there was a tolerably powerful feeling towards her, +which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against +another.</p> + +<p>They had not long separated when Miss Bingley came towards her, and, +with an expression of civil disdain, thus accosted her,—</p> + +<p>“So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with George Wickham? +Your sister has been talking to me about him, and asking me a thousand +questions; and I find that the young man forgot to tell you, among his +other communications, that he was the son of old Wickham, the late Mr. +Darcy’s steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to give +implicit confidence to all his assertions; for, as to Mr. Darcy’s using +him ill, it is perfectly false: for, on the contrary, he has been always +remarkably kind to him, though George Wickham has treated Mr. Darcy in a +most infamous manner. I do not know the particulars, but I know very +well that Mr. Darcy is not in the least to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_121">{121}</a></span> blame; that he cannot bear +to hear George Wickham mentioned; and that though my brother thought he +could not well avoid including him in his invitation to the officers, he +was excessively glad to find that he had taken himself out of the way. +His coming into the country at all is a most insolent thing, indeed, and +I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you, Miss Eliza, for this +discovery of your favourite’s guilt; but really, considering his +descent, one could not expect much better.”</p> + +<p>“His guilt and his descent appear, by your account, to be the same,” +said Elizabeth, angrily; “for I have heard you accuse him of nothing +worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy’s steward, and of <i>that</i>, I can +assure you, he informed me himself.”</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon,” replied Miss Bingley, turning away with a sneer. +“Excuse my interference; it was kindly meant.”</p> + +<p>“Insolent girl!” said Elizabeth to herself. “You are much mistaken if +you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack as this. I see +nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr. +Darcy.” She then sought her eldest sister, who had undertaken to make +inquiries on the same subject of Bingley. Jane met her with a smile of +such sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as sufficiently +marked how well she was satisfied with the occurrences of the evening. +Elizabeth instantly read her feelings; and, at that moment, solicitude +for Wickham, resentment against his enemies, and everything else, gave +way before the hope of Jane’s being in the fairest way for happiness.</p> + +<p>“I want to know,” said she, with a countenance no less smiling than her +sister’s, “what you have learnt<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_122">{122}</a></span> about Mr. Wickham. But perhaps you have +been too pleasantly engaged to think of any third person, in which case +you may be sure of my pardon.”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied Jane, “I have not forgotten him; but I have nothing +satisfactory to tell you. Mr. Bingley does not know the whole of his +history, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have +principally offended Mr. Darcy; but he will vouch for the good conduct, +the probity and honour, of his friend, and is perfectly convinced that +Mr. Wickham has deserved much less attention from Mr. Darcy than he has +received; and I am sorry to say that by his account, as well as his +sister’s, Mr. Wickham is by no means a respectable young man. I am +afraid he has been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr. Darcy’s +regard.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Bingley does not know Mr. Wickham himself.”</p> + +<p>“No; he never saw him till the other morning at Meryton.”</p> + +<p>“This account then is what he has received from Mr. Darcy. I am +perfectly satisfied. But what does he say of the living?”</p> + +<p>“He does not exactly recollect the circumstances, though he has heard +them from Mr. Darcy more than once, but he believes that it was left to +him <i>conditionally</i> only.”</p> + +<p>“I have not a doubt of Mr. Bingley’s sincerity,” said Elizabeth warmly, +“but you must excuse my not being convinced by assurances only. Mr. +Bingley’s defence of his friend was a very able one, I dare say; but +since he is unacquainted with several parts of the story, and has learnt +the rest from that friend himself, I shall venture still to think of +both gentlemen as I did before.”</p> + +<p>She then changed the discourse to one more gratifying<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_123">{123}</a></span> to each, and on +which there could be no difference of sentiment. Elizabeth listened with +delight to the happy though modest hopes which Jane entertained of +Bingley’s regard, and said all in her power to heighten her confidence +in it. On their being joined by Mr. Bingley himself, Elizabeth withdrew +to Miss Lucas; to whose inquiry after the pleasantness of her last +partner she had scarcely replied, before Mr. Collins came up to them, +and told her with great exultation, that he had just been so fortunate +as to make a most important discovery.</p> + +<p>“I have found out,” said he, “by a singular accident, that there is now +in the room a near relation to my patroness. I happened to overhear the +gentleman himself mentioning to the young lady who does the honours of +this house the names of his cousin Miss De Bourgh, and of her mother, +Lady Catherine. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! Who would +have thought of my meeting with—perhaps—a nephew of Lady Catherine de +Bourgh in this assembly! I am most thankful that the discovery is made +in time for me to pay my respects to him, which I am now going to do, +and trust he will excuse my not having done it before. My total +ignorance of the connection must plead my apology.”</p> + +<p>“You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier. +I believe him to be Lady Catherine’s <i>nephew</i>. It will be in my power to +assure him that her Ladyship was quite well yesterday se’nnight.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme; assuring him +that Mr. Darcy would consider his addressing him without introduction as +an impertinent<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_124">{124}</a></span> freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; that it +was not in the least necessary there should be any notice on either +side, and that if it were, it must belong to Mr. Darcy, the superior in +consequence, to begin the acquaintance. Mr. Collins listened to her with +the determined air of following his own inclination, and when she ceased +speaking, replied thus,—</p> + +<p>“My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world of your +excellent judgment in all matters within the scope of your +understanding, but permit me to say that there must be a wide difference +between the established forms of ceremony amongst the laity and those +which regulate the clergy; for, give me leave to observe that I consider +the clerical office as equal in point of dignity with the highest rank +in the kingdom—provided that a proper humility of behaviour is at the +same time maintained. You must, therefore, allow me to follow the +dictates of my conscience on this occasion, which lead me to perform +what I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to profit by +your advice, which on every other subject shall be my constant guide, +though in the case before us I consider myself more fitted by education +and habitual study to decide on what is right than a young lady like +yourself;” and with a low bow he left her to attack Mr. Darcy, whose +reception of his advances she eagerly watched, and whose astonishment at +being so addressed was very evident. Her cousin prefaced his speech with +a solemn bow, and though she could not hear a word of it, she felt as if +hearing it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the words “apology,” +“Hunsford,” and “Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” It vexed her to see him +expose himself to such a man. Mr. Darcy was eyeing him with +un<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_125">{125}</a></span>restrained wonder; and when at last Mr. Collins allowed him to speak, +replied with an air of distant civility. Mr. Collins, however, was not +discouraged from speaking again, and Mr. Darcy’s contempt seemed +abundantly increasing with the length of his second speech; and at the +end of it he only made him a slight bow, and moved another way: Mr. +Collins then returned to Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>“I have no reason, I assure you,” said he, “to be dissatisfied with my +reception. Mr. Darcy seemed much pleased with the attention. He answered +me with the utmost civility, and even paid me the compliment of saying, +that he was so well convinced of Lady Catherine’s discernment as to be +certain she could never bestow a favour unworthily. It was really a very +handsome thought. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him.”</p> + +<p>As Elizabeth had no longer any interest of her own to pursue, she turned +her attention almost entirely on her sister and Mr. Bingley; and the +train of agreeable reflections which her observations gave birth to made +her perhaps almost as happy as Jane. She saw her in idea settled in that +very house, in all the felicity which a marriage of true affection could +bestow; and she felt capable, under such circumstances, of endeavouring +even to like Bingley’s two sisters. Her mother’s thoughts she plainly +saw were bent the same way, and she determined not to venture near her, +lest she might hear too much. When they sat down to supper, therefore, +she considered it a most unlucky perverseness which placed them within +one of each other; and deeply was she vexed to find that her mother was +talking to that one person (Lady Lucas) freely, openly, and of nothing +else but of her expectation that Jane would be soon married to Mr. +Bingley. It was an animating subject, and Mrs. Bennet<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_126">{126}</a></span> seemed incapable +of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. His being such +a charming young man, and so rich, and living but three miles from them, +were the first points of self-gratulation; and then it was such a +comfort to think how fond the two sisters were of Jane, and to be +certain that they must desire the connection as much as she could do. It +was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger daughters, as +Jane’s marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men; +and, lastly, it was so pleasant at her time of life to be able to +consign her single daughters to the care of their sister, that she might +not be obliged to go into company more than she liked. It was necessary +to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure, because on such +occasions it is the etiquette; but no one was less likely than Mrs. +Bennet to find comfort in staying at home at any period of her life. She +concluded with many good wishes that Lady Lucas might soon be equally +fortunate, though evidently and triumphantly believing there was no +chance of it.</p> + +<p>In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity of her mother’s +words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible +whisper; for to her inexpressible vexation she could perceive that the +chief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, who sat opposite to them. Her +mother only scolded her for being nonsensical.</p> + +<p>“What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am +sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say +nothing <i>he</i> may not like to hear.”</p> + +<p>“For heaven’s sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be to you +to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by +so doing.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_127">{127}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her mother would +talk of her views in the same intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushed and +blushed again with shame and vexation. She could not help frequently +glancing her eye at Mr. Darcy, though every glance convinced her of what +she dreaded; for though he was not always looking at her mother, she was +convinced that his attention was invariably fixed by her. The expression +of his face changed gradually from indignant contempt to a composed and +steady gravity.</p> + +<p>At length, however, Mrs. Bennet had no more to say; and Lady Lucas, who +had been long yawning at the repetition of delights which she saw no +likelihood of sharing, was left to the comforts of cold ham and chicken. +Elizabeth now began to revive. But not long was the interval of +tranquillity; for when supper was over, singing was talked of, and she +had the mortification of seeing Mary, after very little entreaty, +preparing to oblige the company. By many significant looks and silent +entreaties did she endeavour to prevent such a proof of +complaisance,—but in vain; Mary would not understand them; such an +opportunity of exhibiting was delightful to her, and she began her song. +Elizabeth’s eyes were fixed on her, with most painful sensations; and +she watched her progress through the several stanzas with an impatience +which was very ill rewarded at their close; for Mary, on receiving +amongst the thanks of the table the hint of a hope that she might be +prevailed on to favour them again, after the pause of half a minute +began another. Mary’s powers were by no means fitted for such a display; +her voice was weak, and her manner affected. Elizabeth was in agonies. +She looked at Jane to see how she bore it; but Jane was very composedly<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_128">{128}</a></span> +talking to Bingley. She looked at his two sisters, and saw them making +signs of derision at each other, and at Darcy, who continued, however, +impenetrably grave. She looked at her father to entreat his +interference, lest Mary should be singing all night. He took the hint, +and, when Mary had finished her second song, said aloud,—</p> + +<p>“That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. +Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.”</p> + +<p>Mary, though pretending not to hear, was somewhat disconcerted; and +Elizabeth, sorry for her, and sorry for her father’s speech, was afraid +her anxiety had done no good. Others of the party were now applied to.</p> + +<p>“If I,” said Mr. Collins, “were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I +should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an +air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly +compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean, however, +to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time to +music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The +rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make such +an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself and not +offensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the time +that remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the care +and improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making +as comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importance +that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards +everybody, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I +cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_129">{129}</a></span> of the man who +should omit an occasion of testifying his respect towards anybody +connected with the family.” And with a bow to Mr. Darcy, he concluded +his speech, which had been spoken so loud as to be heard by half the +room. Many stared—many smiled; but no one looked more amused than Mr. +Bennet himself, while his wife seriously commended Mr. Collins for +having spoken so sensibly, and observed, in a half-whisper to Lady +Lucas, that he was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man.</p> + +<p>To Elizabeth it appeared, that had her family made an agreement to +expose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would +have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit, or +finer success; and happy did she think it for Bingley and her sister +that some of the exhibition had escaped his notice, and that his +feelings were not of a sort to be much distressed by the folly which he +must have witnessed. That his two sisters and Mr. Darcy, however, should +have such an opportunity of ridiculing her relations was bad enough; and +she could not determine whether the silent contempt of the gentleman, or +the insolent smiles of the ladies, were more intolerable.</p> + +<p>The rest of the evening brought her little amusement. She was teased by +Mr. Collins, who continued most perseveringly by her side; and though he +could not prevail with her to dance with him again, put it out of her +power to dance with others. In vain did she entreat him to stand up with +somebody else, and offered to introduce him to any young lady in the +room. He assured her that, as to dancing, he was perfectly indifferent +to it; that his chief object was, by delicate attentions, to recommend +himself to her; and that he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_130">{130}</a></span> should therefore make a point of remaining +close to her the whole evening. There was no arguing upon such a +project. She owed her greatest relief to her friend Miss Lucas, who +often joined them, and good-naturedly engaged Mr. Collins’s conversation +to herself.</p> + +<p>She was at least free from the offence of Mr. Darcy’s further notice: +though often standing within a very short distance of her, quite +disengaged, he never came near enough to speak. She felt it to be the +probable consequence of her allusions to Mr. Wickham, and rejoiced in +it.</p> + +<p>The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart; and by a +manœuvre of Mrs. Bennet had to wait for their carriage a quarter of an +hour after everybody else was gone, which gave them time to see how +heartily they were wished away by some of the family. Mrs. Hurst and her +sister scarcely opened their mouths except to complain of fatigue, and +were evidently impatient to have the house to themselves. They repulsed +every attempt of Mrs. Bennet at conversation, and, by so doing, threw a +languor over the whole party, which was very little relieved by the long +speeches of Mr. Collins, who was complimenting Mr. Bingley and his +sisters on the elegance of their entertainment, and the hospitality and +politeness which had marked their behaviour to their guests. Darcy said +nothing at all. Mr. Bennet, in equal silence, was enjoying the scene. +Mr. Bingley and Jane were standing together a little detached from the +rest, and talked only to each other. Elizabeth preserved as steady a +silence as either Mrs. Hurst or Miss Bingley; and even Lydia was too +much fatigued to utter more than the occasional exclamation of “Lord, +how tired I am!” accompanied by a violent yawn.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_131">{131}</a></span></p> + +<p>When at length they arose to take leave, Mrs. Bennet was most pressingly +civil in her hope of seeing the whole family soon at Longbourn; and +addressed herself particularly to Mr. Bingley, to assure him how happy +he would make them, by eating a family dinner with them at any time, +without the ceremony of a formal invitation. Bingley was all grateful +pleasure; and he readily engaged for taking the earliest opportunity of +waiting on her after his return from London, whither he was obliged to +go the next day for a short time.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied; and quitted the house under the +delightful persuasion that, allowing for the necessary preparations of +settlements, new carriages, and wedding clothes, she should undoubtedly +see her daughter settled at Netherfield in the course of three or four +months. Of having another daughter married to Mr. Collins she thought +with equal certainty, and with considerable, though not equal, pleasure. +Elizabeth was the least dear to her of all her children; and though the +man and the match were quite good enough for <i>her</i>, the worth of each +was eclipsed by Mr. Bingley and Netherfield.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_132">{132}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a><img src="images/i_161_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“to assure you in the most animated language.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_161_b.png" +width="100" +alt="T"></span>HE next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. Mr. Collins made his +declaration in form. Having resolved to do it without loss of time, as +his leave of absence extended only to the following Saturday, and having +no feelings of diffidence to make it distressing to himself even at the +moment, he set about it in a very orderly manner, with all the +observances which he supposed a regular part of the business. On finding +Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_133">{133}</a></span> and one of the younger girls together, soon +after breakfast, he addressed the mother in these words,—</p> + +<p>“May I hope, madam, for your interest with your fair daughter Elizabeth, +when I solicit for the honour of a private audience with her in the +course of this morning?”</p> + +<p>Before Elizabeth had time for anything but a blush of surprise, Mrs. +Bennet instantly answered,—</p> + +<p>“Oh dear! Yes, certainly. I am sure Lizzy will be very happy—I am sure +she can have no objection. Come, Kitty, I want you upstairs.” And +gathering her work together, she was hastening away, when Elizabeth +called out,—</p> + +<p>“Dear ma’am, do not go. I beg you will not go. Mr. Collins must excuse +me. He can have nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear. I am +going away myself.”</p> + +<p>“No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. I desire you will stay where you are.” And +upon Elizabeth’s seeming really, with vexed and embarrassed looks, about +to escape, she added, “Lizzy, I <i>insist</i> upon your staying and hearing +Mr. Collins.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth would not oppose such an injunction; and a moment’s +consideration making her also sensible that it would be wisest to get it +over as soon and as quietly as possible, she sat down again, and tried +to conceal, by incessant employment, the feelings which were divided +between distress and diversion. Mrs. Bennet and Kitty walked off, and as +soon as they were gone, Mr. Collins began,—</p> + +<p>“Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that your modesty, so far from +doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You +would have been less amiable in my eyes had there <i>not</i> been this little +unwillingness; but allow me to assure you that I have your respected +mother’s permission for this address.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_134">{134}</a></span> You can hardly doubt the purport +of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to +dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as +soon as I entered the house I singled you out as the companion of my +future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this +subject, perhaps it will be advisable for me to state my reasons for +marrying—and, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design +of selecting a wife, as I certainly did.”</p> + +<p>The idea of Mr. Collins, with all his solemn composure, being run away +with by his feelings, made Elizabeth so near laughing that she could not +use the short pause he allowed in any attempt to stop him farther, and +he continued,—</p> + +<p>“My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for +every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example +of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced it will add +very greatly to my happiness; and, thirdly, which perhaps I ought to +have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and +recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling +patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked +too!) on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I +left Hunsford,—between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was +arranging Miss De Bourgh’s footstool,—that she said, ‘Mr. Collins, you +must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a +gentlewoman for <i>my</i> sake, and for your <i>own</i>; let her be an active, +useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small +income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as +you can, bring her to Hunsford, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_135">{135}</a></span> I will visit her.’ Allow me, by the +way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and +kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the +advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond +anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity, I think, must be +acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect +which her rank will inevitably excite. Thus much for my general +intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views +were directed to Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I +assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that +being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honoured +father (who, however, may live many years longer), I could not satisfy +myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters, that +the loss to them might be as little as possible when the melancholy +event takes place—which, however, as I have already said, may not be +for several years. This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I +flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing +remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the +violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and +shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well +aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds +in the 4 per cents., which will not be yours till after your mother’s +decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head, +therefore, I shall be uniformly silent: and you may assure yourself that +no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married.”</p> + +<p>It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now.</p> + +<p>“You are too hasty, sir,” she cried. “You forget that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_136">{136}</a></span> I have made no +answer. Let me do it without further loss of time. Accept my thanks for +the compliment you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of +your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than decline +them.”</p> + +<p>“I am not now to learn,” replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the +hand, “that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the +man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their +favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a +third time. I am, therefore, by no means discouraged by what you have +just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long.”</p> + +<p>“Upon my word, sir,” cried Elizabeth, “your hope is rather an +extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I am not +one of those young ladies (if such young ladies there are) who are so +daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second +time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make <i>me</i> +happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who +would make <i>you</i> so. Nay, were your friend Lady Catherine to know me, I +am persuaded she would find me in every respect ill qualified for the +situation.”</p> + +<p>“Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so,” said Mr. Collins, +very gravely—“but I cannot imagine that her Ladyship would at all +disapprove of you. And you may be certain that when I have the honour of +seeing her again I shall speak in the highest terms of your modesty, +economy, and other amiable qualifications.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. You must +give me leave to judge for myself, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_137">{137}</a></span> pay me the compliment of +believing what I say. I wish you very happy and very rich, and by +refusing your hand, do all in my power to prevent your being otherwise. +In making me the offer, you must have satisfied the delicacy of your +feelings with regard to my family, and may take possession of Longbourn +estate whenever it falls, without any self-reproach. This matter may be +considered, therefore, as finally settled.” And rising as she thus +spoke, she would have quitted the room, had not Mr. Collins thus +addressed her,—</p> + +<p>“When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the subject, I +shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given +me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I +know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the +first application, and, perhaps, you have even now said as much to +encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the +female character.”</p> + +<p>“Really, Mr. Collins,” cried Elizabeth, with some warmth, “you puzzle me +exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form +of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as +may convince you of its being one.”</p> + +<p>“You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your +refusal of my addresses are merely words of course. My reasons for +believing it are briefly these:—It does not appear to me that my hand +is unworthy of your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would +be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my connections +with the family of De Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are +circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_138">{138}</a></span> it into further +consideration that, in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no +means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your +portion is unhappily so small, that it will in all likelihood undo the +effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must, +therefore, conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I +shall choose to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by +suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.”</p> + +<p>“I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretensions whatever to that kind +of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. I would +rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you +again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but +to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect +forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant +female intending to plague you, but as a rational creature speaking the +truth from her heart.”</p> + +<p>“You are uniformly charming!” cried he, with an air of awkward +gallantry; “and I am persuaded that, when sanctioned by the express +authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of +being acceptable.”</p> + +<p>To such perseverance in wilful self-deception Elizabeth would make no +reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew; determined, that if he +persisted in considering her repeated refusals as flattering +encouragement, to apply to her father, whose negative might be uttered +in such a manner as must be decisive, and whose behaviour at least could +not be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant female.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_139">{139}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XX"></a><img src="images/i_168_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_168_b.png" +width="100" +alt="M"></span>R. COLLINS was not left long to the silent contemplation of his +successful love; for Mrs. Bennet, having dawdled about in the vestibule +to watch for the end of the conference, no sooner saw Elizabeth open the +door and with quick step pass her towards the staircase, than she +entered the breakfast-room, and congratulated both him and herself in +warm terms on the happy prospect of their nearer connection. Mr. Collins +received and returned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and then +proceeded to relate the particulars of their interview, with the result +of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied, since the +refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him would naturally flow +from her bashful modesty and the genuine delicacy of her character.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_140">{140}</a></span></p> + +<p>This information, however, startled Mrs. Bennet: she would have been +glad to be equally satisfied that her daughter had meant to encourage +him by protesting against his proposals, but she dared not believe it, +and could not help saying so.</p> + +<p>“But depend upon it, Mr. Collins,” she added, “that Lizzy shall be +brought to reason. I will speak to her about it myself directly. She is +a very headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her own interest; but +I will <i>make</i> her know it.”</p> + +<p>“Pardon me for interrupting you, madam,” cried Mr. Collins; “but if she +is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether she would +altogether be a very desirable wife to a man in my situation, who +naturally looks for happiness in the marriage state. If, therefore, she +actually persists in rejecting my suit, perhaps it were better not to +force her into accepting me, because, if liable to such defects of +temper, she could not contribute much to my felicity.”</p> + +<p>“Sir, you quite misunderstand me,” said Mrs. Bennet, alarmed. “Lizzy is +only headstrong in such matters as these. In everything else she is as +good-natured a girl as ever lived. I will go directly to Mr. Bennet, and +we shall very soon settle it with her, I am sure.”</p> + +<p>She would not give him time to reply, but hurrying instantly to her +husband, called out, as she entered the library,—</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Bennet, you are wanted immediately; we are all in an uproar. +You must come and make Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows she will +not have him; and if you do not make haste he will change his mind and +not have <i>her</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_141">{141}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and fixed them +on her face with a calm unconcern, which was not in the least altered by +her communication.</p> + +<p>“I have not the pleasure of understanding you,” said he, when she had +finished her speech. “Of what are you talking?”</p> + +<p>“Of Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not have Mr. Collins, +and Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not have Lizzy.”</p> + +<p>“And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems a hopeless business.”</p> + +<p>“Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon her +marrying him.”</p> + +<p>“Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was summoned to the +library.</p> + +<p>“Come here, child,” cried her father as she appeared. “I have sent for +you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr. Collins has made +you an offer of marriage. Is it true?”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth replied that it was.</p> + +<p>“Very well—and this offer of marriage you have refused?”</p> + +<p>“I have, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your +accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs. Bennet?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, or I will never see her again.”</p> + +<p>“An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must +be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you +again if you do <i>not</i> marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again +if you <i>do</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_142">{142}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning; +but Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded the +affair as she wished, was excessively disappointed.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, by talking in this way? You promised me +to <i>insist</i> upon her marrying him.”</p> + +<p>“My dear,” replied her husband, “I have two small favours to request. +First, that you will allow me the free use of my understanding on the +present occasion; and, secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have the +library to myself as soon as may be.”</p> + +<p>Not yet, however, in spite of her disappointment in her husband, did +Mrs. Bennet give up the point. She talked to Elizabeth again and again; +coaxed and threatened her by turns. She endeavoured to secure Jane in +her interest, but Jane, with all possible mildness, declined +interfering; and Elizabeth, sometimes with real earnestness, and +sometimes with playful gaiety, replied to her attacks. Though her manner +varied, however, her determination never did.</p> + +<p>Mr. Collins, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on what had passed. +He thought too well of himself to comprehend on what motive his cousin +could refuse him; and though his pride was hurt, he suffered in no other +way. His regard for her was quite imaginary; and the possibility of her +deserving her mother’s reproach prevented his feeling any regret.</p> + +<p>While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came to spend +the day with them. She was met in the vestibule by Lydia, who, flying to +her, cried in a half whisper, “I am glad you are come, for there is such +fun here! What do you think has happened this<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_143">{143}</a></span> morning? Mr. Collins has +made an offer to Lizzy, and she will not have him.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 443px;"> +<img src="images/i_172.jpg" width="443" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> +<p>“they entered the breakfast room”</p></div> +</div> + +<p>Charlotte had hardly time to answer before they were joined by Kitty, +who came to tell the same news; and no sooner had they entered the +breakfast-room, where Mrs. Bennet was alone, than she likewise began on +the subject, calling on Miss Lucas for her compassion, and entreating +her to persuade her friend Lizzy to comply with the wishes of her +family. “Pray do, my dear Miss<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_144">{144}</a></span> Lucas,” she added, in a melancholy tone; +“for nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me; I am cruelly used, +nobody feels for my poor nerves.”</p> + +<p>Charlotte’s reply was spared by the entrance of Jane and Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>“Ay, there she comes,” continued Mrs. Bennet, “looking as unconcerned as +may be, and caring no more for us than if we were at York, provided she +can have her own way. But I tell you what, Miss Lizzy, if you take it +into your head to go on refusing every offer of marriage in this way, +you will never get a husband at all—and I am sure I do not know who is +to maintain you when your father is dead. <i>I</i> shall not be able to keep +you—and so I warn you. I have done with you from this very day. I told +you in the library, you know, that I should never speak to you again, +and you will find me as good as my word. I have no pleasure in talking +to undutiful children. Not that I have much pleasure, indeed, in talking +to anybody. People who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have +no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it +is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied.”</p> + +<p>Her daughters listened in silence to this effusion, sensible that any +attempt to reason with or soothe her would only increase the irritation. +She talked on, therefore, without interruption from any of them till +they were joined by Mr. Collins, who entered with an air more stately +than usual, and on perceiving whom, she said to the girls,—</p> + +<p>“Now, I do insist upon it, that you, all of you, hold your tongues, and +let Mr. Collins and me have a little conversation together.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_145">{145}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kitty followed, but +Lydia stood her ground, determined to hear all she could; and Charlotte, +detained first by the civility of Mr. Collins, whose inquiries after +herself and all her family were very minute, and then by a little +curiosity, satisfied herself with walking to the window and pretending +not to hear. In a doleful voice Mrs. Bennet thus began the projected +conversation:—</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Collins!”</p> + +<p>“My dear madam,” replied he, “let us be for ever silent on this point. +Far be it from me,” he presently continued, in a voice that marked his +displeasure, “to resent the behaviour of your daughter. Resignation to +inevitable evils is the duty of us all: the peculiar duty of a young man +who has been so fortunate as I have been, in early preferment; and, I +trust, I am resigned. Perhaps not the less so from feeling a doubt of my +positive happiness had my fair cousin honoured me with her hand; for I +have often observed, that resignation is never so perfect as when the +blessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in our estimation. +You will not, I hope, consider me as showing any disrespect to your +family, my dear madam, by thus withdrawing my pretensions to your +daughter’s favour, without having paid yourself and Mr. Bennet the +compliment of requesting you to interpose your authority in my behalf. +My conduct may, I fear, be objectionable in having accepted my +dismission from your daughter’s lips instead of your own; but we are all +liable to error. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair. +My object has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with due +consideration for the advantage of all your family; and if my <i>manner</i> +has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to apologize.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_146">{146}</a></span>”</p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a><img src="images/i_175_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_175_b.png" +width="100" +alt="T"></span>HE discussion of Mr. Collins’s offer was now nearly at an end, and +Elizabeth had only to suffer from the uncomfortable feelings necessarily +attending it, and occasionally from some peevish allusion of her mother. +As for the gentleman himself, <i>his</i> feelings were chiefly expressed, not +by embarrassment or dejection, or<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_147">{147}</a></span> by trying to avoid her, but by +stiffness of manner and resentful silence. He scarcely ever spoke to +her; and the assiduous attentions which he had been so sensible of +himself were transferred for the rest of the day to Miss Lucas, whose +civility in listening to him was a seasonable relief to them all, and +especially to her friend.</p> + +<p>The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Bennet’s ill humour or ill +health. Mr. Collins was also in the same state of angry pride. Elizabeth +had hoped that his resentment might shorten his visit, but his plan did +not appear in the least affected by it. He was always to have gone on +Saturday, and to Saturday he still meant to stay.</p> + +<p>After breakfast, the girls walked to Meryton, to inquire if Mr. Wickham +were returned, and to lament over his absence from the Netherfield ball. +He joined them on their entering the town, and attended them to their +aunt’s, where his regret and vexation and the concern of everybody were +well talked over. To Elizabeth, however, he voluntarily acknowledged +that the necessity of his absence <i>had</i> been self-imposed.</p> + +<p>“I found,” said he, “as the time drew near, that I had better not meet +Mr. Darcy;—that to be in the same room, the same party with him for so +many hours together, might be more than I could bear, and that scenes +might arise unpleasant to more than myself.”</p> + +<p>She highly approved his forbearance; and they had leisure for a full +discussion of it, and for all the commendations which they civilly +bestowed on each other, as Wickham and another officer walked back with +them to Longbourn, and during the walk he particularly attended to her. +His accompanying them was a double advantage: she felt all the +compliment it offered to herself;<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_148">{148}</a></span> and it was most acceptable as an +occasion of introducing him to her father and mother.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i_177.jpg" width="550" height="438" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"><p>“Walked back with them”</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet; it came +from Netherfield, and was opened immediately. The envelope contained a +sheet of elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady’s +fair, flowing hand; and Elizabeth saw her sister’s countenance change as +she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular passages. +Jane recollected herself soon; and putting the letter away, tried to +join, with her usual cheerfulness, in the general conversation: but +Elizabeth felt an anxiety on the subject which drew off her attention +even from Wickham; and no sooner had he and his companion taken leave, +than a glance from Jane invited her to follow her upstairs. When they +had gained their own room, Jane, taking out her letter, said, “This is +from Caroline Bingley: what it<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_149">{149}</a></span> contains has surprised me a good deal. +The whole party have left Netherfield by this time, and are on their way +to town; and without any intention of coming back again. You shall hear +what she says.”</p> + +<p>She then read the first sentence aloud, which comprised the information +of their having just resolved to follow their brother to town directly, +and of their meaning to dine that day in Grosvenor Street, where Mr. +Hurst had a house. The next was in these words:—“<span class="lftspc">‘</span>I do not pretend to +regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire except your society, my +dearest friend; but we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many +returns of that delightful intercourse we have known, and in the +meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most +unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that.’<span class="lftspc">”</span> To these +high-flown expressions Elizabeth listened with all the insensibility of +distrust; and though the suddenness of their removal surprised her, she +saw nothing in it really to lament: it was not to be supposed that their +absence from Netherfield would prevent Mr. Bingley’s being there; and as +to the loss of their society, she was persuaded that Jane must soon +cease to regard it in the enjoyment of his.</p> + +<p>“It is unlucky,” said she, after a short pause, “that you should not be +able to see your friends before they leave the country. But may we not +hope that the period of future happiness, to which Miss Bingley looks +forward, may arrive earlier than she is aware, and that the delightful +intercourse you have known as friends will be renewed with yet greater +satisfaction as sisters? Mr. Bingley will not be detained in London by +them.”</p> + +<p>“Caroline decidedly says that none of the party will return into +Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_150">{150}</a></span></p> + +<p>“<span class="lftspc">‘</span>When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which +took him to London might be concluded in three or four days; but as we +are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when +Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have +determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend +his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintance are +already there for the winter: I wish I could hear that you, my dearest +friend, had any intention of making one in the crowd, but of that I +despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in +the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux +will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of +whom we shall deprive you.’</p> + +<p>“It is evident by this,” added Jane, “that he comes back no more this +winter.”</p> + +<p>“It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not mean he <i>should</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Why will you think so? It must be his own doing; he is his own master. +But you do not know <i>all</i>. I <i>will</i> read you the passage which +particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves from <i>you</i>. ‘Mr. Darcy is +impatient to see his sister; and to confess the truth, <i>we</i> are scarcely +less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has +her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection +she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still +more interesting from the hope we dare to entertain of her being +hereafter our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to +you my feelings on this subject, but I will not leave the country +without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_151">{151}</a></span> +unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; he will have +frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing; her +relations all wish the connection as much as his own; and a sister’s +partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most +capable of engaging any woman’s heart. With all these circumstances to +favour an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest +Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness +of so many?’ What think you of <i>this</i> sentence, my dear Lizzy?” said +Jane, as she finished it. “Is it not clear enough? Does it not expressly +declare that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be her sister; +that she is perfectly convinced of her brother’s indifference; and that +if she suspects the nature of my feelings for him she means (most +kindly!) to put me on my guard. Can there be any other opinion on the +subject?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?”</p> + +<p>“Most willingly.”</p> + +<p>“You shall have it in a few words. Miss Bingley sees that her brother is +in love with you and wants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him to +town in the hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he +does not care about you.”</p> + +<p>Jane shook her head.</p> + +<p>“Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. No one who has ever seen you +together can doubt his affection; Miss Bingley, I am sure, cannot: she +is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen half as much love in Mr. +Darcy for herself, she would have ordered her wedding clothes. But the +case is this:—we are not rich enough or grand enough for them; and she +is<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_152">{152}</a></span> the more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion +that when there has been <i>one</i> inter-marriage, she may have less trouble +in achieving a second; in which there is certainly some ingenuity, and I +dare say it would succeed if Miss de Bourgh were out of the way. But, my +dearest Jane, you cannot seriously imagine that, because Miss Bingley +tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, he is in the smallest +degree less sensible of <i>your</i> merit than when he took leave of you on +Tuesday; or that it will be in her power to persuade him that, instead +of being in love with you, he is very much in love with her friend.”</p> + +<p>“If we thought alike of Miss Bingley,” replied Jane, “your +representation of all this might make me quite easy. But I know the +foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of wilfully deceiving +anyone; and all that I can hope in this case is, that she is deceived +herself.”</p> + +<p>“That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea, since you +will not take comfort in mine: believe her to be deceived, by all means. +You have now done your duty by her, and must fret no longer.”</p> + +<p>“But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even supposing the best, in +accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to marry +elsewhere?”</p> + +<p>“You must decide for yourself,” said Elizabeth; “and if, upon mature +deliberation, you find that the misery of disobliging his two sisters is +more than equivalent to the happiness of being his wife, I advise you, +by all means, to refuse him.”</p> + +<p>“How can you talk so?” said Jane, faintly smiling; “you must know, that, +though I should be exceedingly grieved at their disapprobation, I could +not hesitate.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_153">{153}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“I did not think you would; and that being the case, I cannot consider +your situation with much compassion.”</p> + +<p>“But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never be +required. A thousand things may arise in six months.”</p> + +<p>The idea of his returning no more Elizabeth treated with the utmost +contempt. It appeared to her merely the suggestion of Caroline’s +interested wishes; and she could not for a moment suppose that those +wishes, however openly or artfully spoken, could influence a young man +so totally independent of everyone.</p> + +<p>She represented to her sister, as forcibly as possible, what she felt on +the subject, and had soon the pleasure of seeing its happy effect. +Jane’s temper was not desponding; and she was gradually led to hope, +though the diffidence of affection sometimes overcame the hope, that +Bingley would return to Netherfield, and answer every wish of her heart.</p> + +<p>They agreed that Mrs. Bennet should only hear of the departure of the +family, without being alarmed on the score of the gentleman’s conduct; +but even this partial communication gave her a great deal of concern, +and she bewailed it as exceedingly unlucky that the ladies should happen +to go away just as they were all getting so intimate together. After +lamenting it, however, at some length, she had the consolation of +thinking that Mr. Bingley would be soon down again, and soon dining at +Longbourn; and the conclusion of all was the comfortable declaration, +that, though he had been invited only to a family dinner, she would take +care to have two full courses.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_154">{154}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a><img src="images/i_183_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_183_b.png" +width="100" +alt="T"></span>HE Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucases; and again, during the +chief of the day, was Miss Lucas so kind as to listen to Mr. Collins. +Elizabeth took an opportunity of thanking her. “It keeps him in good +humour,” said she, “and I am more obliged to you than I can express.”</p> + +<p>Charlotte assured her friend of her satisfaction in being useful, and +that it amply repaid her for the little sacrifice of her time. This was +very amiable; but Charlotte’s kindness extended farther than Elizabeth +had any conception of:—its object was nothing less than to secure her +from any return of Mr. Collins’s addresses, by engaging them towards +herself. Such was Miss Lucas’s scheme; and appearances were so +favourable, that when they parted at night, she would have felt almost +sure of success if he had not been to leave Hertfordshire so very soon. +But here she did injustice to the fire and independence of his +character; for it led him to escape out of Longbourn House the next +morning with<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_155">{155}</a></span> admirable slyness, and hasten to Lucas Lodge to throw +himself at her feet. He was anxious to avoid the notice of his cousins, +from a conviction that, if they saw him depart, they could not fail to +conjecture his design, and he was not willing to have the attempt known +till its success could be known likewise; for, though feeling almost +secure, and with reason, for Charlotte had been tolerably encouraging, +he was comparatively diffident since the adventure of Wednesday. His +reception, however, was of the most flattering kind. Miss Lucas +perceived him from an upper window as he walked towards the house, and +instantly set out to meet him accidentally in the lane. But little had +she dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited her there.</p> + +<p>In as short a time as Mr. Collins’s long speeches would allow, +everything was settled between them to the satisfaction of both; and as +they entered the house, he earnestly entreated her to name the day that +was to make him the happiest of men; and though such a solicitation must +be waived for the present, the lady felt no inclination to trifle with +his happiness. The stupidity with which he was favoured by nature must +guard his courtship from any charm that could make a woman wish for its +continuance; and Miss Lucas, who accepted him solely from the pure and +disinterested desire of an establishment, cared not how soon that +establishment were gained.</p> + +<p>Sir William and Lady Lucas were speedily applied to for their consent; +and it was bestowed with a most joyful alacrity. Mr. Collins’s present +circumstances made it a most eligible match for their daughter, to whom +they could give little fortune; and his prospects of future wealth were +exceedingly fair. Lady Lucas began directly to calculate, with more +interest than the matter had ever<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_156">{156}</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 371px;"> +<img src="images/i_185.jpg" width="371" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“So much love and eloquence”</p></div> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="nind">excited before, how many years longer Mr. Bennet was likely to live; and +Sir William gave it as his decided opinion, that whenever Mr. Collins +should be in possession of the Longbourn estate, it would be highly +expedient that both he and his wife should make their appearance at St. +James’s. The whole family in short were properly overjoyed on the +occasion. The younger girls formed<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_157">{157}</a></span> hopes of <i>coming out</i> a year or two +sooner than they might otherwise have done; and the boys were relieved +from their apprehension of Charlotte’s dying an old maid. Charlotte +herself was tolerably composed. She had gained her point, and had time +to consider of it. Her reflections were in general satisfactory. Mr. +Collins, to be sure, was neither sensible nor agreeable: his society was +irksome, and his attachment to her must be imaginary. But still he would +be her husband. Without thinking highly either of men or of matrimony, +marriage had always been her object: it was the only honourable +provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and, however +uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative +from want. This preservative she had now obtained; and at the age of +twenty-seven, without having ever been handsome, she felt all the good +luck of it. The least agreeable circumstance in the business was the +surprise it must occasion to Elizabeth Bennet, whose friendship she +valued beyond that of any other person. Elizabeth would wonder, and +probably would blame her; and though her resolution was not to be +shaken, her feelings must be hurt by such a disapprobation. She resolved +to give her the information herself; and therefore charged Mr. Collins, +when he returned to Longbourn to dinner, to drop no hint of what had +passed before any of the family. A promise of secrecy was of course very +dutifully given, but it could not be kept without difficulty; for the +curiosity excited by his long absence burst forth in such very direct +questions on his return, as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was +at the same time exercising great self-denial, for he was longing to +publish his prosperous love.</p> + +<p>As he was to begin his journey too early on the morrow<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_158">{158}</a></span> to see any of +the family, the ceremony of leave-taking was performed when the ladies +moved for the night; and Mrs. Bennet, with great politeness and +cordiality, said how happy they should be to see him at Longbourn again, +whenever his other engagements might allow him to visit them.</p> + +<p>“My dear madam,” he replied, “this invitation is particularly +gratifying, because it is what I have been hoping to receive; and you +may be very certain that I shall avail myself of it as soon as +possible.”</p> + +<p>They were all astonished; and Mr. Bennet, who could by no means wish for +so speedy a return, immediately said,—</p> + +<p>“But is there not danger of Lady Catherine’s disapprobation here, my +good sir? You had better neglect your relations than run the risk of +offending your patroness.”</p> + +<p>“My dear sir,” replied Mr. Collins, “I am particularly obliged to you +for this friendly caution, and you may depend upon my not taking so +material a step without her Ladyship’s concurrence.”</p> + +<p>“You cannot be too much on your guard. Risk anything rather than her +displeasure; and if you find it likely to be raised by your coming to us +again, which I should think exceedingly probable, stay quietly at home, +and be satisfied that <i>we</i> shall take no offence.”</p> + +<p>“Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly excited by such +affectionate attention; and, depend upon it, you will speedily receive +from me a letter of thanks for this as well as for every other mark of +your regard during my stay in Hertfordshire. As for my fair cousins, +though my absence may not be long enough to render it necessary, I shall +now take the liberty of wishing them health and happiness, not excepting +my cousin Elizabeth.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_159">{159}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>With proper civilities, the ladies then withdrew; all of them equally +surprised to find that he meditated a quick return. Mrs. Bennet wished +to understand by it that he thought of paying his addresses to one of +her younger girls, and Mary might have been prevailed on to accept him. +She rated his abilities much higher than any of the others: there was a +solidity in his reflections which often struck her; and though by no +means so clever as herself, she thought that, if encouraged to read and +improve himself by such an example as hers, he might become a very +agreeable companion. But on the following morning every hope of this +kind was done away. Miss Lucas called soon after breakfast, and in a +private conference with Elizabeth related the event of the day before.</p> + +<p>The possibility of Mr. Collins’s fancying himself in love with her +friend had once occurred to Elizabeth within the last day or two: but +that Charlotte could encourage him seemed almost as far from possibility +as that she could encourage him herself; and her astonishment was +consequently so great as to overcome at first the bounds of decorum, and +she could not help crying out,—</p> + +<p>“Engaged to Mr. Collins! my dear Charlotte, impossible!”</p> + +<p>The steady countenance which Miss Lucas had commanded in telling her +story gave way to a momentary confusion here on receiving so direct a +reproach; though, as it was no more than she expected, she soon regained +her composure, and calmly replied,—</p> + +<p>“Why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? Do you think it incredible +that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman’s good opinion, +because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_160">{160}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>But Elizabeth had now recollected herself; and, making a strong effort +for it, was able to assure her, with tolerable firmness, that the +prospect of their relationship was highly grateful to her, and that she +wished her all imaginable happiness.</p> + +<p>“I see what you are feeling,” replied Charlotte; “you must be surprised, +very much surprised, so lately as Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you. +But when you have had time to think it all over, I hope you will be +satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic, you know. I never +was. I ask only a comfortable home; and, considering Mr. Collins’s +character, connections, and situation in life, I am convinced that my +chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on +entering the marriage state.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth quietly answered “undoubtedly;” and, after an awkward pause, +they returned to the rest of the family. Charlotte did not stay much +longer; and Elizabeth was then left to reflect on what she had heard. It +was a long time before she became at all reconciled to the idea of so +unsuitable a match. The strangeness of Mr. Collins’s making two offers +of marriage within three days was nothing in comparison of his being now +accepted. She had always felt that Charlotte’s opinion of matrimony was +not exactly like her own; but she could not have supposed it possible +that, when called into action, she would have sacrificed every better +feeling to worldly advantage. Charlotte, the wife of Mr. Collins, was a +most humiliating picture! And to the pang of a friend disgracing +herself, and sunk in her esteem, was added the distressing conviction +that it was impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot +she had chosen.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_161">{161}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a><img src="images/i_190_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“Protested he must be entirely mistaken.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_190_b.png" +width="100" +alt="E"></span>LIZABETH was sitting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on what +she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorized to mention it, +when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent by his daughter to +announce her engagement to the family. With many compliments to them, +and much self-gratulation on the prospect of a connection between the +houses, he unfolded the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_162">{162}</a></span> matter,—to an audience not merely wondering, +but incredulous; for Mrs. Bennet, with more perseverance than +politeness, protested he must be entirely mistaken; and Lydia, always +unguarded and often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed,—</p> + +<p>“Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not you know +that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?”</p> + +<p>Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne +without anger such treatment: but Sir William’s good-breeding carried +him through it all; and though he begged leave to be positive as to the +truth of his information, he listened to all their impertinence with the +most forbearing courtesy.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so unpleasant +a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his account, by +mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte herself; and +endeavoured to put a stop to the exclamations of her mother and sisters, +by the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir William, in which she +was readily joined by Jane, and by making a variety of remarks on the +happiness that might be expected from the match, the excellent character +of Mr. Collins, and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet was, in fact, too much overpowered to say a great deal while +Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them than her feelings +found a rapid vent. In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving +the whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that Mr. Collins +had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they would never be happy +together; and, fourthly, that the match might be broken off. Two +inferences, however,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_163">{163}</a></span> were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that +Elizabeth was the real cause of all the mischief; and the other, that +she herself had been barbarously used by them all; and on these two +points she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could +console and nothing appease her. Nor did that day wear out her +resentment. A week elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without +scolding her: a month passed away before she could speak to Sir William +or Lady Lucas without being rude; and many months were gone before she +could at all forgive their daughter.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bennet’s emotions were much more tranquil on the occasion, and such +as he did experience he pronounced to be of a most agreeable sort; for +it gratified him, he said, to discover that Charlotte Lucas, whom he had +been used to think tolerably sensible, was as foolish as his wife, and +more foolish than his daughter!</p> + +<p>Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match: but she said +less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their happiness; +nor could Elizabeth persuade her to consider it as improbable. Kitty and +Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was only a +clergyman; and it affected them in no other way than as a piece of news +to spread at Meryton.</p> + +<p>Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to retort on +Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well married; and she +called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was, +though Mrs. Bennet’s sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have been +enough to drive happiness away.</p> + +<p>Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint which kept them +mutually silent on the subject; and Elizabeth felt persuaded that no +real confidence could<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_164">{164}</a></span> ever subsist between them again. Her +disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with fonder regard to her +sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy she was sure her opinion could +never be shaken, and for whose happiness she grew daily more anxious, as +Bingley had now been gone a week, and nothing was heard of his return.</p> + +<p>Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her letter, and was counting +the days till she might reasonably hope to hear again. The promised +letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their +father, and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a +twelve-month’s abode in the family might have prompted. After +discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform them, +with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the +affection of their amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, and then explained +that it was merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had +been so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him again at +Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight; +for Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that +she wished it to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would +be an unanswerable argument with his amiable Charlotte to name an early +day for making him the happiest of men.</p> + +<p>Mr. Collins’s return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of +pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On the contrary, she was as much disposed to +complain of it as her husband. It was very strange that he should come +to Longbourn instead of to Lucas Lodge; it was also very inconvenient +and exceedingly troublesome. She hated having visitors in the house +while her health was so indifferent, and lovers were of all people the +most disagreeable. Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Bennet, and they +gave way<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_165">{165}</a></span> only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley’s continued +absence.</p> + +<p>Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject. Day after +day passed away without bringing any other tidings of him than the +report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to +Netherfield the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs. +Bennet, and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous +falsehood.</p> + +<p>Even Elizabeth began to fear—not that Bingley was indifferent—but that +his sisters would be successful in keeping him away. Unwilling as she +was to admit an idea so destructive to Jane’s happiness, and so +dishonourable to the stability of her lover, she could not prevent its +frequently recurring. The united efforts of his two unfeeling sisters, +and of his overpowering friend, assisted by the attractions of Miss +Darcy and the amusements of London, might be too much, she feared, for +the strength of his attachment.</p> + +<p>As for Jane, <i>her</i> anxiety under this suspense was, of course, more +painful than Elizabeth’s: but whatever she felt she was desirous of +concealing; and between herself and Elizabeth, therefore, the subject +was never alluded to. But as no such delicacy restrained her mother, an +hour seldom passed in which she did not talk of Bingley, express her +impatience for his arrival, or even require Jane to confess that if he +did not come back she should think herself very ill-used. It needed all +Jane’s steady mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable +tranquillity.</p> + +<p>Mr. Collins returned most punctually on the Monday fortnight, but his +reception at Longbourn was not quite so gracious as it had been on his +first introduction. He was too happy, however, to need much attention; +and,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_166">{166}</a></span> luckily for the others, the business of love-making relieved them +from a great deal of his company. The chief of every day was spent by +him at Lucas Lodge, and he sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time +to make an apology for his absence before the family went to bed.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 538px;"> +<img src="images/i_195.jpg" width="538" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<p>“<i>Whenever she spoke in a low voice</i>”</p></div> +</div> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The very mention of +anything concerning the match threw her into an agony of ill-humour, and +wherever she went she was sure of hearing it talked of. The sight of +Miss Lucas was odious to her. As her successor in that house, she<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_167">{167}</a></span> +regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte came to see +them, she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession; and +whenever she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, was convinced that +they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and resolving to turn herself +and her daughters out of the house as soon as Mr. Bennet was dead. She +complained bitterly of all this to her husband.</p> + +<p>“Indeed, Mr. Bennet,” said she, “it is very hard to think that Charlotte +Lucas should ever be mistress of this house, that <i>I</i> should be forced +to make way for <i>her</i>, and live to see her take my place in it!”</p> + +<p>“My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for +better things. Let us flatter ourselves that <i>I</i> may be the survivor.”</p> + +<p>This was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet; and, therefore, instead of +making any answer, she went on as before.</p> + +<p>“I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate. If it was +not for the entail, I should not mind it.”</p> + +<p>“What should not you mind?”</p> + +<p>“I should not mind anything at all.”</p> + +<p>“Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such +insensibility.”</p> + +<p>“I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for anything about the entail. How +anyone could have the conscience to entail away an estate from one’s own +daughters I cannot understand; and all for the sake of Mr. Collins, too! +Why should <i>he</i> have it more than anybody else?”</p> + +<p>“I leave it to yourself to determine,” said Mr. Bennet.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_168">{168}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a><img src="images/i_197_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_197_b.png" +width="100" +alt="M"></span>ISS BINGLEY’S letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very first +sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled in London for +the winter, and concluded with her brother’s regret at not having had +time to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he left +the country.</p> + +<p>Hope was over, entirely over; and when Jane could attend to the rest of +the letter, she found little, except the professed affection of the +writer, that could give her any comfort. Miss Darcy’s praise occupied +the chief of it. Her many attractions were again dwelt on; and Caroline +boasted joyfully of their increasing intimacy, and ventured to predict +the accomplishment of the wishes which had been unfolded in her former +letter. She wrote also with great pleasure of her brother’s being an +inmate of Mr. Darcy’s house, and mentioned with raptures some plans of +the latter with regard to new furniture.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_169">{169}</a></span></p> + +<p>Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief of all this, +heard it in silent indignation. Her heart was divided between concern +for her sister and resentment against all others. To Caroline’s +assertion of her brother’s being partial to Miss Darcy, she paid no +credit. That he was really fond of Jane, she doubted no more than she +had ever done; and much as she had always been disposed to like him, she +could not think without anger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness +of temper, that want of proper resolution, which now made him the slave +of his designing friends, and led him to sacrifice his own happiness to +the caprice of their inclinations. Had his own happiness, however, been +the only sacrifice, he might have been allowed to sport with it in +whatever manner he thought best; but her sister’s was involved in it, as +she thought he must be sensible himself. It was a subject, in short, on +which reflection would be long indulged, and must be unavailing. She +could think of nothing else; and yet, whether Bingley’s regard had +really died away, or were suppressed by his friends’ interference; +whether he had been aware of Jane’s attachment, or whether it had +escaped his observation; whichever were the case, though her opinion of +him must be materially affected by the difference, her sister’s +situation remained the same, her peace equally wounded.</p> + +<p>A day or two passed before Jane had courage to speak of her feelings to +Elizabeth; but at last, on Mrs. Bennet’s leaving them together, after a +longer irritation than usual about Netherfield and its master, she could +not help saying,—</p> + +<p>“O that my dear mother had more command over herself! she can have no +idea of the pain she gives me by her continual reflections on him. But I +will not<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_170">{170}</a></span> repine. It cannot last long. He will be forgot, and we shall +all be as we were before.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, but said +nothing.</p> + +<p>“You doubt me,” cried Jane, slightly colouring; “indeed, you have no +reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable man of my +acquaintance but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and +nothing to reproach him with. Thank God I have not <i>that</i> pain. A little +time, therefore—I shall certainly try to get the better——”</p> + +<p>With a stronger voice she soon added, “I have this comfort immediately, +that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that it +has done no harm to anyone but myself.”</p> + +<p>“My dear Jane,” exclaimed Elizabeth, “you are too good. Your sweetness +and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know what to say to +you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or loved you as you +deserve.”</p> + +<p>Miss Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, and threw back +the praise on her sister’s warm affection.</p> + +<p>“Nay,” said Elizabeth, “this is not fair. <i>You</i> wish to think all the +world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. <i>I</i> only want +to think <i>you</i> perfect, and you set yourself against it. Do not be +afraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching on your +privilege of universal good-will. You need not. There are few people +whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see +of the world the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms +my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the +little dependence that can be placed on the appearance<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_171">{171}</a></span> of either merit +or sense. I have met with two instances lately: one I will not mention, +the other is Charlotte’s marriage. It is unaccountable! in every view it +is unaccountable!”</p> + +<p>“My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these. They will +ruin your happiness. You do not make allowance enough for difference of +situation and temper. Consider Mr. Collins’s respectability, and +Charlotte’s prudent, steady character. Remember that she is one of a +large family; that as to fortune it is a most eligible match; and be +ready to believe, for everybody’s sake, that she may feel something like +regard and esteem for our cousin.”</p> + +<p>“To oblige you, I would try to believe almost anything, but no one else +could be benefited by such a belief as this; for were I persuaded that +Charlotte had any regard for him, I should only think worse of her +understanding than I now do of her heart. My dear Jane, Mr. Collins is a +conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly man: you know he is, as well as +I do; and you must feel, as well as I do, that the woman who marries him +cannot have a proper way of thinking. You shall not defend her, though +it is Charlotte Lucas. You shall not, for the sake of one individual, +change the meaning of principle and integrity, nor endeavour to persuade +yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence, and insensibility of +danger security for happiness.”</p> + +<p>“I must think your language too strong in speaking of both,” replied +Jane; “and I hope you will be convinced of it, by seeing them happy +together. But enough of this. You alluded to something else. You +mentioned <i>two</i> instances. I cannot misunderstand you, but I entreat +you, dear Lizzy, not to pain me by thinking <i>that person</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_172">{172}</a></span> to blame, and +saying your opinion of him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy +ourselves intentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young man +to be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing but +our own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration means more than +it does.”</p> + +<p>“And men take care that they should.”</p> + +<p>“If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; but I have no idea +of there being so much design in the world as some persons imagine.”</p> + +<p>“I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Bingley’s conduct to design,” +said Elizabeth; “but, without scheming to do wrong, or to make others +unhappy, there may be error and there may be misery. Thoughtlessness, +want of attention to other people’s feelings, and want of resolution, +will do the business.”</p> + +<p>“And do you impute it to either of those?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; to the last. But if I go on I shall displease you by saying what I +think of persons you esteem. Stop me, whilst you can.”</p> + +<p>“You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, in conjunction with his friend.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence him? They can +only wish his happiness; and if he is attached to me no other woman can +secure it.”</p> + +<p>“Your first position is false. They may wish many things besides his +happiness: they may wish his increase of wealth and consequence; they +may wish him to marry a girl who has all the importance of money, great +connections, and pride.”</p> + +<p>“Beyond a doubt they do wish him to choose Miss Darcy,” replied Jane; +“but this may be from better<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_173">{173}</a></span> feelings than you are supposing. They have +known her much longer than they have known me; no wonder if they love +her better. But, whatever may be their own wishes, it is very unlikely +they should have opposed their brother’s. What sister would think +herself at liberty to do it, unless there were something very +objectionable? If they believed him attached to me they would not try to +part us; if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such an +affection, you make everybody acting unnaturally and wrong, and me most +unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am not ashamed of having been +mistaken—or, at least, it is slight, it is nothing in comparison of +what I should feel in thinking ill of him or his sisters. Let me take it +in the best light, in the light in which it may be understood.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth could not oppose such a wish; and from this time Mr. Bingley’s +name was scarcely ever mentioned between them.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet still continued to wonder and repine at his returning no +more; and though a day seldom passed in which Elizabeth did not account +for it clearly, there seemed little chance of her ever considering it +with less perplexity. Her daughter endeavoured to convince her of what +she did not believe herself, that his attentions to Jane had been merely +the effect of a common and transient liking, which ceased when he saw +her no more; but though the probability of the statement was admitted at +the time, she had the same story to repeat every day. Mrs. Bennet’s best +comfort was, that Mr. Bingley must be down again in the summer.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bennet treated the matter differently. “So, Lizzy,” said he, one +day, “your sister is crossed in love, I find. I congratulate her. Next +to being married, a girl likes to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_174">{174}</a></span> be crossed in love a little now and +then. It is something to think of, and gives her a sort of distinction +among her companions. When is your turn to come? You will hardly bear to +be long outdone by Jane. Now is your time. Here are officers enough at +Meryton to disappoint all the young ladies in the country. Let Wickham +be your man. He is a pleasant fellow, and would jilt you creditably.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. We must not +all expect Jane’s good fortune.”</p> + +<p>“True,” said Mr. Bennet; “but it is a comfort to think that, whatever of +that kind may befall you, you have an affectionate mother who will +always make the most of it.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Wickham’s society was of material service in dispelling the gloom +which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on many of the Longbourn +family. They saw him often, and to his other recommendations was now +added that of general unreserve. The whole of what Elizabeth had already +heard, his claims on Mr. Darcy, and all that he had suffered from him, +was now openly acknowledged and publicly canvassed; and everybody was +pleased to think how much they had always disliked Mr. Darcy before they +had known anything of the matter.</p> + +<p>Miss Bennet was the only creature who could suppose there might be any +extenuating circumstances in the case unknown to the society of +Hertfordshire: her mild and steady candour always pleaded for +allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes; but by everybody else +Mr. Darcy was condemned as the worst of men.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_175">{175}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a><img src="images/i_204_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_204_b.png" +width="100" +alt="A"></span>FTER a week spent in professions of love and schemes of felicity, Mr. +Collins was called from his amiable Charlotte by the arrival of +Saturday. The pain of separation, however, might be alleviated on his +side by preparations for the reception of his bride, as he had reason to +hope, that shortly after his next return into Hertfordshire, the day +would be fixed that was to make him the happiest of men. He took leave +of his relations at Longbourn with as much solemnity as before; wished +his fair cousins health and happiness again, and promised their father +another letter of thanks.</p> + +<p>On the following Monday, Mrs. Bennet had the pleasure of receiving her +brother and his wife, who came, as usual, to spend the Christmas at +Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, gentlemanlike man, greatly +superior to his sister, as well by nature as education. The Netherfield +ladies would have had difficulty in believing that a man who lived by +trade, and within view of his own warehouses, could have been so +well-bred and agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger +than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips, was an amiable, intelligent,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_176">{176}</a></span> elegant +woman, and a great favourite with her Longbourn nieces. Between the two +eldest and herself especially, there subsisted a very particular regard. +They had frequently been staying with her in town.</p> + +<p>The first part of Mrs. Gardiner’s business, on her arrival, was to +distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions. When this was +done, she had a less active part to play. It became her turn to listen. +Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to relate, and much to complain of. They +had all been very ill-used since she last saw her sister. Two of her +girls had been on the point of marriage, and after all there was nothing +in it.</p> + +<p>“I do not blame Jane,” she continued, “for Jane would have got Mr. +Bingley if she could. But, Lizzy! Oh, sister! it is very hard to think +that she might have been Mr. Collins’s wife by this time, had not it +been for her own perverseness. He made her an offer in this very room, +and she refused him. The consequence of it is, that Lady Lucas will have +a daughter married before I have, and that Longbourn estate is just as +much entailed as ever. The Lucases are very artful people, indeed, +sister. They are all for what they can get. I am sorry to say it of +them, but so it is. It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be thwarted +so in my own family, and to have neighbours who think of themselves +before anybody else. However, your coming just at this time is the +greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us of +long sleeves.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news had been given before, in +the course of Jane and Elizabeth’s correspondence with her, made her +sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to her nieces, turned the +conversation.</p> + +<p>When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she spoke more<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_177">{177}</a></span> on the subject. +“It seems likely to have been a desirable match for Jane,” said she. “I +am sorry it went off. But these things happen so often! A young man, +such as you describe Mr. Bingley, so easily falls in love with a pretty +girl for a few weeks, and, when accident separates them, so easily +forgets her, that these sort of inconstancies are very frequent.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 462px;"> +<img src="images/i_206.jpg" width="462" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Offended two or three young ladies”</p></div> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>“An excellent consolation in its way,” said Elizabeth; “but it will not +do for <i>us</i>. We do not suffer by accident.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_178">{178}</a></span> It does not often happen +that the interference of friends will persuade a young man of +independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he was violently in +love with only a few days before.”</p> + +<p>“But that expression of ‘violently in love’ is so hackneyed, so +doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me very little idea. It is as +often applied to feelings which arise only from a half hour’s +acquaintance, as to a real, strong attachment. Pray, how <i>violent was</i> +Mr. Bingley’s love?”</p> + +<p>“I never saw a more promising inclination; he was growing quite +inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by her. Every time +they met, it was more decided and remarkable. At his own ball he +offended two or three young ladies by not asking them to dance; and I +spoke to him twice myself without receiving an answer. Could there be +finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes! of that kind of love which I suppose him to have felt. Poor +Jane! I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she may not get +over it immediately. It had better have happened to <i>you</i>, Lizzy; you +would have laughed yourself out of it sooner. But do you think she would +be prevailed on to go back with us? Change of scene might be of +service—and perhaps a little relief from home may be as useful as +anything.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, and felt persuaded +of her sister’s ready acquiescence.</p> + +<p>“I hope,” added Mrs. Gardiner, “that no consideration with regard to +this young man will influence her. We live in so different a part of +town, all our connections are so different, and, as you well know, we go +out so little, that it is very improbable they should meet at all, +unless he really comes to see her.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_179">{179}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“And <i>that</i> is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his +friend, and Mr. Darcy would no more suffer him to call on Jane in such a +part of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr. Darcy may, +perhaps, have <i>heard</i> of such a place as Gracechurch Street, but he +would hardly think a month’s ablution enough to cleanse him from its +impurities, were he once to enter it; and, depend upon it, Mr. Bingley +never stirs without him.”</p> + +<p>“So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does not Jane +correspond with his sister? <i>She</i> will not be able to help calling.”</p> + +<p>“She will drop the acquaintance entirely.”</p> + +<p>But, in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place this +point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley’s being +withheld from seeing Jane, she felt a solicitude on the subject which +convinced her, on examination, that she did not consider it entirely +hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes she thought it probable, that +his affection might be re-animated, and the influence of his friends +successfully combated by the more natural influence of Jane’s +attractions.</p> + +<p>Miss Bennet accepted her aunt’s invitation with pleasure; and the +Bingleys were no otherwise in her thoughts at the same time than as she +hoped, by Caroline’s not living in the same house with her brother, she +might occasionally spend a morning with her, without any danger of +seeing him.</p> + +<p>The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn; and what with the Philipses, +the Lucases, and the officers, there was not a day without its +engagement. Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided for the entertainment +of her brother and sister, that they did not once sit down to a family +dinner. When the engagement was for home,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_180">{180}</a></span> some of the officers always +made part of it, of which officers Mr. Wickham was sure to be one; and +on these occasions Mrs. Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Elizabeth’s +warm commendation of him, narrowly observed them both. Without supposing +them, from what she saw, to be very seriously in love, their preference +of each other was plain enough to make her a little uneasy; and she +resolved to speak to Elizabeth on the subject before she left +Hertfordshire, and represent to her the imprudence of encouraging such +an attachment.</p> + +<p>To Mrs. Gardiner, Wickham had one means of affording pleasure, +unconnected with his general powers. About ten or a dozen years ago, +before her marriage, she had spent a considerable time in that very part +of Derbyshire to which he belonged. They had, therefore, many +acquaintance in common; and, though Wickham had been little there since +the death of Darcy’s father, five years before, it was yet in his power +to give her fresher intelligence of her former friends than she had been +in the way of procuring.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gardiner had seen Pemberley, and known the late Mr. Darcy by +character perfectly well. Here, consequently, was an inexhaustible +subject of discourse. In comparing her recollection of Pemberley with +the minute description which Wickham could give, and in bestowing her +tribute of praise on the character of its late possessor, she was +delighting both him and herself. On being made acquainted with the +present Mr. Darcy’s treatment of him, she tried to remember something of +that gentleman’s reputed disposition, when quite a lad, which might +agree with it; and was confident, at last, that she recollected having +heard Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy formerly spoken of as a very proud, +ill-natured boy.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_181">{181}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a><img src="images/i_210_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“Will you come and see me.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_210_b.png" +width="100" +alt="M"></span>RS. GARDINER’S caution to Elizabeth was punctually and kindly given on +the first favourable opportunity of speaking to her alone: after +honestly telling her what she thought, she thus went on:—</p> + +<p>“You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in love merely because you +are warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of speaking +openly. Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. Do not involve +yourself, or endeavour to involve him, in an affection which the want of +fortune would make so very imprudent. I have nothing to say against +<i>him</i>: he is a most interesting young man; and if he had the fortune he +ought to have, I should think you could not do better. But as it is—you +must not let your fancy run away with you. You<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_182">{182}</a></span> have sense, and we all +expect you to use it. Your father would depend on <i>your</i> resolution and +good conduct, I am sure. You must not disappoint your father.”</p> + +<p>“My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care of +myself, and of Mr. Wickham too. He shall not be in love with me, if I +can prevent it.”</p> + +<p>“Elizabeth, you are not serious now.”</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon. I will try again. At present I am not in love with +Mr. Wickham; no, I certainly am not. But he is, beyond all comparison, +the most agreeable man I ever saw—and if he becomes really attached to +me—I believe it will be better that he should not. I see the imprudence +of it. Oh, <i>that</i> abominable Mr. Darcy! My father’s opinion of me does +me the greatest honour; and I should be miserable to forfeit it. My +father, however, is partial to Mr. Wickham. In short, my dear aunt, I +should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy; but +since we see, every day, that where there is affection young people are +seldom withheld, by immediate want of fortune, from entering into +engagements with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so many +of my fellow-creatures, if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that +it would be wiser to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is +not to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his +first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In +short, I will do my best.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so very +often. At least you should not <i>remind</i> your mother of inviting him.”</p> + +<p>“As I did the other day,” said Elizabeth, with a con<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_183">{183}</a></span>scious smile; “very +true, it will be wise in me to refrain from <i>that</i>. But do not imagine +that he is always here so often. It is on your account that he has been +so frequently invited this week. You know my mother’s ideas as to the +necessity of constant company for her friends. But really, and upon my +honour, I will try to do what I think to be wisest; and now I hope you +are satisfied.”</p> + +<p>Her aunt assured her that she was; and Elizabeth, having thanked her for +the kindness of her hints, they parted,—a wonderful instance of advice +being given on such a point without being resented.</p> + +<p>Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had been quitted +by the Gardiners and Jane; but, as he took up his abode with the +Lucases, his arrival was no great inconvenience to Mrs. Bennet. His +marriage was now fast approaching; and she was at length so far resigned +as to think it inevitable, and even repeatedly to say, in an ill-natured +tone, that she “<i>wished</i> they might be happy.” Thursday was to be the +wedding-day, and on Wednesday Miss Lucas paid her farewell visit; and +when she rose to take leave, Elizabeth, ashamed of her mother’s +ungracious and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected herself, +accompanied her out of the room. As they went down stairs together, +Charlotte said,—</p> + +<p>“I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza.”</p> + +<p>“<i>That</i> you certainly shall.”</p> + +<p>“And I have another favour to ask. Will you come and see me?”</p> + +<p>“We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire.”</p> + +<p>“I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, therefore, to +come to Hunsford.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth could not refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure in the +visit.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_184">{184}</a></span></p> + +<p>“My father and Maria are to come to me in March,” added Charlotte, “and +I hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will be +as welcome to me as either of them.”</p> + +<p>The wedding took place: the bride and bridegroom set off for Kent from +the church door, and everybody had as much to say or to hear on the +subject as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from her friend, and their +correspondence was as regular and frequent as it ever had been: that it +should be equally unreserved was impossible. Elizabeth could never +address her without feeling that all the comfort of intimacy was over; +and, though determined not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for the +sake of what had been rather than what was. Charlotte’s first letters +were received with a good deal of eagerness: there could not but be +curiosity to know how she would speak of her new home, how she would +like Lady Catherine, and how happy she would dare pronounce herself to +be; though, when the letters were read, Elizabeth felt that Charlotte +expressed herself on every point exactly as she might have foreseen. She +wrote cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing +which she could not praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, and +roads, were all to her taste, and Lady Catherine’s behaviour was most +friendly and obliging. It was Mr. Collins’s picture of Hunsford and +Rosings rationally softened; and Elizabeth perceived that she must wait +for her own visit there, to know the rest.</p> + +<p>Jane had already written a few lines to her sister, to announce their +safe arrival in London; and when she wrote again, Elizabeth hoped it +would be in her power to say something of the Bingleys.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_185">{185}</a></span></p> + +<p>Her impatience for this second letter was as well rewarded as impatience +generally is. Jane had been a week in town, without either seeing or +hearing from Caroline. She accounted for it, however, by supposing that +her last letter to her friend from Longbourn had by some accident been +lost.</p> + +<p>“My aunt,” she continued, “is going to-morrow into that part of the +town, and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor Street.”</p> + +<p>She wrote again when the visit was paid, and she had seen Miss Bingley. +“I did not think Caroline in spirits,” were her words, “but she was very +glad to see me, and reproached me for giving her no notice of my coming +to London. I was right, therefore; my last letter had never reached her. +I inquired after their brother, of course. He was well, but so much +engaged with Mr. Darcy that they scarcely ever saw him. I found that +Miss Darcy was expected to dinner: I wish I could see her. My visit was +not long, as Caroline and Mrs. Hurst were going out. I dare say I shall +soon see them here.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth shook her head over this letter. It convinced her that +accident only could discover to Mr. Bingley her sister’s being in town.</p> + +<p>Four weeks passed away, and Jane saw nothing of him. She endeavoured to +persuade herself that she did not regret it; but she could no longer be +blind to Miss Bingley’s inattention. After waiting at home every morning +for a fortnight, and inventing every evening a fresh excuse for her, the +visitor did at last appear; but the shortness of her stay, and, yet +more, the alteration of her manner, would allow Jane to deceive herself +no longer. The letter which she wrote on this occasion to her sister +will prove what she felt:<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_186">{186}</a></span>—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, be incapable of triumphing in +her better judgment, at my expense, when I confess myself to have +been entirely deceived in Miss Bingley’s regard for me. But, my +dear sister, though the event has proved you right, do not think me +obstinate if I still assert that, considering what her behaviour +was, my confidence was as natural as your suspicion. I do not at +all comprehend her reason for wishing to be intimate with me; but, +if the same circumstances were to happen again, I am sure I should +be deceived again. Caroline did not return my visit till yesterday; +and not a note, not a line, did I receive in the meantime. When she +did come, it was very evident that she had no pleasure in it; she +made a slight, formal apology for not calling before, said not a +word of wishing to see me again, and was, in every respect, so +altered a creature, that when she went away I was perfectly +resolved to continue the acquaintance no longer. I pity, though I +cannot help blaming, her. She was very wrong in singling me out as +she did; I can safely say, that every advance to intimacy began on +her side. But I pity her, because she must feel that she has been +acting wrong, and because I am very sure that anxiety for her +brother is the cause of it. I need not explain myself farther; and +though <i>we</i> know this anxiety to be quite needless, yet if she +feels it, it will easily account for her behaviour to me; and so +deservedly dear as he is to his sister, whatever anxiety she may +feel on his behalf is natural and amiable. I cannot but wonder, +however, at her having any such fears now, because if he had at all +cared about me, we must have met long, long ago. He knows of my +being in town, I am certain, from something she said herself; and +yet it would seem, by her manner of talking,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_187">{187}</a></span> as if she wanted to +persuade herself that he is really partial to Miss Darcy. I cannot +understand it. If I were not afraid of judging harshly, I should be +almost tempted to say, that there is a strong appearance of +duplicity in all this. I will endeavour to banish every painful +thought, and think only of what will make me happy, your affection, +and the invariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me hear +from you very soon. Miss Bingley said something of his never +returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, but not +with any certainty. We had better not mention it. I am extremely +glad that you have such pleasant accounts from our friends at +Hunsford. Pray go to see them, with Sir William and Maria. I am +sure you will be very comfortable there.</p> + +<p class="rt"> +“Yours, etc.”<br> +</p></div> + +<p>This letter gave Elizabeth some pain; but her spirits returned, as she +considered that Jane would no longer be duped, by the sister at least. +All expectation from the brother was now absolutely over. She would not +even wish for any renewal of his attentions. His character sunk on every +review of it; and, as a punishment for him, as well as a possible +advantage to Jane, she seriously hoped he might really soon marry Mr. +Darcy’s sister, as, by Wickham’s account, she would make him abundantly +regret what he had thrown away.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gardiner about this time reminded Elizabeth of her promise +concerning that gentleman, and required information; and Elizabeth had +such to send as might rather give contentment to her aunt than to +herself. His apparent partiality had subsided, his attentions were over, +he was the admirer of some one else. Elizabeth was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_188">{188}</a></span> watchful enough to +see it all, but she could see it and write of it without material pain. +Her heart had been but slightly touched, and her vanity was satisfied +with believing that <i>she</i> would have been his only choice, had fortune +permitted it. The sudden acquisition of ten thousand pounds was the most +remarkable charm of the young lady to whom he was now rendering himself +agreeable; but Elizabeth, less clear-sighted perhaps in this case than +in Charlotte’s, did not quarrel with him for his wish of independence. +Nothing, on the contrary, could be more natural; and, while able to +suppose that it cost him a few struggles to relinquish her, she was +ready to allow it a wise and desirable measure for both, and could very +sincerely wish him happy.</p> + +<p>All this was acknowledged to Mrs. Gardiner; and, after relating the +circumstances, she thus went on:—“I am now convinced, my dear aunt, +that I have never been much in love; for had I really experienced that +pure and elevating passion, I should at present detest his very name, +and wish him all manner of evil. But my feelings are not only cordial +towards <i>him</i>, they are even impartial towards Miss King. I cannot find +out that I hate her at all, or that I am in the least unwilling to think +her a very good sort of girl. There can be no love in all this. My +watchfulness has been effectual; and though I should certainly be a more +interesting object to all my acquaintance, were I distractedly in love +with him, I cannot say that I regret my comparative insignificance. +Importance may sometimes be purchased too dearly. Kitty and Lydia take +his defection much more to heart than I do. They are young in the ways +of the world, and not yet open to the mortifying conviction that +handsome young men must have something to live on as well as the +plain.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_189">{189}</a></span>”</p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a><img src="images/i_218_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“On the Stairs.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTERXXVII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_218_b.png" +width="100" +alt="W"></span>ITH no greater events than these in the Longbourn family, and otherwise +diversified by little beyond the walks to Meryton, sometimes dirty and +sometimes cold, did January and February pass away. March was to take +Elizabeth to Hunsford. She had not at first thought very seriously of +going thither; but Charlotte, she soon found, was depending on the +plan,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_190">{190}</a></span> and she gradually learned to consider it herself with greater +pleasure as well as greater certainty. Absence had increased her desire +of seeing Charlotte again, and weakened her disgust of Mr. Collins. +There was novelty in the scheme; and as, with such a mother and such +uncompanionable sisters, home could not be faultless, a little change +was not unwelcome for its own sake. The journey would, moreover, give +her a peep at Jane; and, in short, as the time drew near, she would have +been very sorry for any delay. Everything, however, went on smoothly, +and was finally settled according to Charlotte’s first sketch. She was +to accompany Sir William and his second daughter. The improvement of +spending a night in London was added in time, and the plan became as +perfect as plan could be.</p> + +<p>The only pain was in leaving her father, who would certainly miss her, +and who, when it came to the point, so little liked her going, that he +told her to write to him, and almost promised to answer her letter.</p> + +<p>The farewell between herself and Mr. Wickham was perfectly friendly; on +his side even more. His present pursuit could not make him forget that +Elizabeth had been the first to excite and to deserve his attention, the +first to listen and to pity, the first to be admired; and in his manner +of bidding her adieu, wishing her every enjoyment, reminding her of what +she was to expect in Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and trusting their +opinion of her—their opinion of everybody—would always coincide, there +was a solicitude, an interest, which she felt must ever attach her to +him with a most sincere regard; and she parted from him convinced, that, +whether married or single, he must always be her model of the amiable +and pleasing.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_191">{191}</a></span></p> + +<p>Her fellow-travellers the next day were not of a kind to make her think +him less agreeable. Sir William Lucas, and his daughter Maria, a +good-humoured girl, but as empty-headed as himself, had nothing to say +that could be worth hearing, and were listened to with about as much +delight as the rattle of the chaise. Elizabeth loved absurdities, but +she had known Sir William’s too long. He could tell her nothing new of +the wonders of his presentation and knighthood; and his civilities were +worn out, like his information.</p> + +<p>It was a journey of only twenty-four miles, and they began it so early +as to be in Gracechurch Street by noon. As they drove to Mr. Gardiner’s +door, Jane was at a drawing-room window watching their arrival: when +they entered the passage, she was there to welcome them, and Elizabeth, +looking earnestly in her face, was pleased to see it healthful and +lovely as ever. On the stairs were a troop of little boys and girls, +whose eagerness for their cousin’s appearance would not allow them to +wait in the drawing-room, and whose shyness, as they had not seen her +for a twelvemonth, prevented their coming lower. All was joy and +kindness. The day passed most pleasantly away; the morning in bustle and +shopping, and the evening at one of the theatres.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth then contrived to sit by her aunt. Their first subject was her +sister; and she was more grieved than astonished to hear, in reply to +her minute inquiries, that though Jane always struggled to support her +spirits, there were periods of dejection. It was reasonable, however, to +hope that they would not continue long. Mrs. Gardiner gave her the +particulars also of Miss Bingley’s visit in Gracechurch Street, and +repeated conversations occurring at different times between Jane and +herself,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_192">{192}</a></span> which proved that the former had, from her heart, given up the +acquaintance.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gardiner then rallied her niece on Wickham’s desertion, and +complimented her on bearing it so well.</p> + +<p>“But, my dear Elizabeth,” she added, “what sort of girl is Miss King? I +should be sorry to think our friend mercenary.”</p> + +<p>“Pray, my dear aunt, what is the difference in matrimonial affairs, +between the mercenary and the prudent motive? Where does discretion end, +and avarice begin? Last Christmas you were afraid of his marrying me, +because it would be imprudent; and now, because he is trying to get a +girl with only ten thousand pounds, you want to find out that he is +mercenary.”</p> + +<p>“If you will only tell me what sort of girl Miss King is, I shall know +what to think.”</p> + +<p>“She is a very good kind of girl, I believe. I know no harm of her.”</p> + +<p>“But he paid her not the smallest attention till her grandfather’s death +made her mistress of this fortune?”</p> + +<p>“No—why should he? If it were not allowable for him to gain <i>my</i> +affections, because I had no money, what occasion could there be for +making love to a girl whom he did not care about, and who was equally +poor?”</p> + +<p>“But there seems indelicacy in directing his attentions towards her so +soon after this event.”</p> + +<p>“A man in distressed circumstances has not time for all those elegant +decorums which other people may observe. If <i>she</i> does not object to it, +why should <i>we</i>?”</p> + +<p>“<i>Her</i> not objecting does not justify <i>him</i>. It only shows her being +deficient in something herself—sense or feeling.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_193">{193}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Well,” cried Elizabeth, “have it as you choose. <i>He</i> shall be +mercenary, and <i>she</i> shall be foolish.”</p> + +<p>“No, Lizzy, that is what I do <i>not</i> choose. I should be sorry, you know, +to think ill of a young man who has lived so long in Derbyshire.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, if that is all, I have a very poor opinion of young men who live in +Derbyshire; and their intimate friends who live in Hertfordshire are not +much better. I am sick of them all. Thank heaven! I am going to-morrow +where I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who has +neither manners nor sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones +worth knowing, after all.”</p> + +<p>“Take care, Lizzy; that speech savours strongly of disappointment.”</p> + +<p>Before they were separated by the conclusion of the play, she had the +unexpected happiness of an invitation to accompany her uncle and aunt in +a tour of pleasure which they proposed taking in the summer.</p> + +<p>“We have not quite determined how far it shall carry us,” said Mrs. +Gardiner; “but perhaps, to the Lakes.”</p> + +<p>No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, and her +acceptance of the invitation was most ready and grateful. “My dear, dear +aunt,” she rapturously cried, “what delight! what felicity! You give me +fresh life and vigour. Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What are men +to rocks and mountains? Oh, what hours of transport we shall spend! And +when we <i>do</i> return, it shall not be like other travellers, without +being able to give one accurate idea of anything. We <i>will</i> know where +we have gone—we <i>will</i> recollect what we have seen. Lakes, mountains, +and rivers, shall not be jumbled together in our imaginations; nor, when +we attempt to describe any particular scene, will we begin quarrelling +about its relative situation. Let <i>our</i> first effusions be less +insupportable than those of the generality of travellers.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_194">{194}</a></span>”</p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a><img src="images/i_223_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“At the door.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTERXXVIII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_223_b.png" +width="100" +alt="E"></span>VERY object in the next day’s journey was new and interesting to +Elizabeth; and her spirits were in a state of enjoyment; for she had +seen her sister looking so well as to banish all fear for her health, +and the prospect of her northern tour was a constant source of delight.</p> + +<p>When they left the high road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye was in +search of the Parsonage, and every turning expected to bring it in view. +The paling of Rosings park was their boundary on one side. Elizabeth +smiled at the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants.</p> + +<p>At length the Parsonage was discernible. The garden<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_195">{195}</a></span> sloping to the +road, the house standing in it, the green pales and the laurel hedge, +everything declared they were arriving. Mr. Collins and Charlotte +appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at the small gate, which +led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and smiles of +the whole party. In a moment they were all out of the chaise, rejoicing +at the sight of each other. Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend with the +liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with +coming, when she found herself so affectionately received. She saw +instantly that her cousin’s manners were not altered by his marriage: +his formal civility was just what it had been; and he detained her some +minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his inquiries after all her +family. They were then, with no other delay than his pointing out the +neatness of the entrance, taken into the house; and as soon as they were +in the parlour, he welcomed them a second time, with ostentatious +formality, to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his wife’s +offers of refreshment.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; and she could not help +fancying that in displaying the good proportion of the room, its aspect, +and its furniture, he addressed himself particularly to her, as if +wishing to make her feel what she had lost in refusing him. But though +everything seemed neat and comfortable, she was not able to gratify him +by any sigh of repentance; and rather looked with wonder at her friend, +that she could have so cheerful an air with such a companion. When Mr. +Collins said anything of which his wife might reasonably be ashamed, +which certainly was not seldom, she involuntarily turned her eye on +Charlotte. Once or twice she could discern a faint blush; but in general +Charlotte<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_196">{196}</a></span> wisely did not hear. After sitting long enough to admire +every article of furniture in the room, from the sideboard to the +fender, to give an account of their journey, and of all that had +happened in London, Mr. Collins invited them to take a stroll in the +garden, which was large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of +which he attended himself. To work in his garden was one of his most +respectable pleasures; and Elizabeth admired the command of countenance +with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of the exercise, and +owned she encouraged it as much as possible. Here, leading the way +through every walk and cross walk, and scarcely allowing them an +interval to utter the praises he asked for, every view was pointed out +with a minuteness which left beauty entirely behind. He could number the +fields in every direction, and could tell how many trees there were in +the most distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, or which +the country or the kingdom could boast, none were to be compared with +the prospect of Rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees that +bordered the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It was a +handsome modern building, well situated on rising ground.</p> + +<p>From his garden, Mr. Collins would have led them round his two meadows; +but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter the remains of a white +frost, turned back; and while Sir William accompanied him, Charlotte +took her sister and friend over the house, extremely well pleased, +probably, to have the opportunity of showing it without her husband’s +help. It was rather small, but well built and convenient; and everything +was fitted up and arranged with a neatness and consistency, of which +Elizabeth gave Charlotte all the credit. When Mr. Collins could be +forgotten, there was really a great air of comfort<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_197">{197}</a></span> throughout, and by +Charlotte’s evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed he must be often +forgotten.</p> + +<p>She had already learnt that Lady Catherine was still in the country. It +was spoken of again while they were at dinner, when Mr. Collins joining +in, observed,—</p> + +<p>“Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing Lady Catherine +de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I need not say you will +be delighted with her. She is all affability and condescension, and I +doubt not but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice when +service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying that she will +include you and my sister Maria in every invitation with which she +honours us during your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is +charming. We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to +walk home. Her Ladyship’s carriage is regularly ordered for us. I +<i>should</i> say, one of her Ladyship’s carriages, for she has several.”</p> + +<p>“Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman, indeed,” added +Charlotte, “and a most attentive neighbour.”</p> + +<p>“Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is the sort of +woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference.”</p> + +<p>The evening was spent chiefly in talking over Hertfordshire news, and +telling again what had been already written; and when it closed, +Elizabeth, in the solitude of her chamber, had to meditate upon +Charlotte’s degree of contentment, to understand her address in guiding, +and composure in bearing with, her husband, and to acknowledge that it +was all done very well. She had also to anticipate how her visit would +pass, the quiet tenour of their usual employments, the vexatious +interruptions of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_198">{198}</a></span> Mr. Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse +with Rosings. A lively imagination soon settled it all.</p> + +<p>About the middle of the next day, as she was in her room getting ready +for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to speak the whole house in +confusion; and, after listening a moment, she heard somebody running +upstairs in a violent hurry, and calling loudly after her. She opened +the door, and met Maria in the landing-place, who, breathless with +agitation, cried out,—</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i_227.jpg" width="550" height="514" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“In Conversation with the ladies”</p></div> + +<p>[Copyright 1894 by George Allen.]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>“Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come into the dining-room, for +there is such a sight to be seen! I will not tell you what it is. Make +haste, and come down this moment.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_199">{199}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth asked questions in vain; Maria would tell her nothing more; +and down they ran into the dining-room which fronted the lane, in quest +of this wonder; it was two ladies, stopping in a low phaeton at the +garden gate.</p> + +<p>“And is this all?” cried Elizabeth. “I expected at least that the pigs +were got into the garden, and here is nothing but Lady Catherine and her +daughter!”</p> + +<p>“La! my dear,” said Maria, quite shocked at the mistake, “it is not Lady +Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives with them. The +other is Miss De Bourgh. Only look at her. She is quite a little +creature. Who would have thought she could be so thin and small!”</p> + +<p>“She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors in all this wind. +Why does she not come in?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Charlotte says she hardly ever does. It is the greatest of favours +when Miss De Bourgh comes in.”</p> + +<p>“I like her appearance,” said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas. “She +looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will +make him a very proper wife.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the gate in conversation +with the ladies; and Sir William, to Elizabeth’s high diversion, was +stationed in the doorway, in earnest contemplation of the greatness +before him, and constantly bowing whenever Miss De Bourgh looked that +way.</p> + +<p>At length there was nothing more to be said; the ladies drove on, and +the others returned into the house. Mr. Collins no sooner saw the two +girls than he began to congratulate them on their good fortune, which +Charlotte explained by letting them know that the whole party was asked +to dine at Rosings the next day.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_200">{200}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a><img src="images/i_229_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“Lady Catherine, said she, you have given me a treasure.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_229_b.png" +width="100" +alt="M"></span>R. COLLINS’S triumph, in consequence of this invitation, was complete. +The power of displaying the grandeur of his patroness to his wondering +visitors, and of letting them see her civility towards himself and his +wife, was exactly what he had wished for; and that an opportunity of +doing it should be given so soon was such an instance of Lady +Catherine’s condescension as he knew not how to admire enough.</p> + +<p>“I confess,” said he, “that I should not have been at all surprised by +her Ladyship’s asking us on Sunday to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_201">{201}</a></span> drink tea and spend the evening +at Rosings. I rather expected, from my knowledge of her affability, that +it would happen. But who could have foreseen such an attention as this? +Who could have imagined that we should receive an invitation to dine +there (an invitation, moreover, including the whole party) so +immediately after your arrival?”</p> + +<p>“I am the less surprised at what has happened,” replied Sir William, +“from that knowledge of what the manners of the great really are, which +my situation in life has allowed me to acquire. About the court, such +instances of elegant breeding are not uncommon.”</p> + +<p>Scarcely anything was talked of the whole day or next morning but their +visit to Rosings. Mr. Collins was carefully instructing them in what +they were to expect, that the sight of such rooms, so many servants, and +so splendid a dinner, might not wholly overpower them.</p> + +<p>When the ladies were separating for the toilette, he said to +Elizabeth,—</p> + +<p>“Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your apparel. Lady +Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of dress in us which +becomes herself and daughter. I would advise you merely to put on +whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest—there is no occasion +for anything more. Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you for +being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank +preserved.”</p> + +<p>While they were dressing, he came two or three times to their different +doors, to recommend their being quick, as Lady Catherine very much +objected to be kept waiting for her dinner. Such formidable accounts of +her Ladyship, and her manner of living, quite frightened Maria<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_202">{202}</a></span> Lucas, +who had been little used to company; and she looked forward to her +introduction at Rosings with as much apprehension as her father had done +to his presentation at St. James’s.</p> + +<p>As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk of about half a mile +across the park. Every park has its beauty and its prospects; and +Elizabeth saw much to be pleased with, though she could not be in such +raptures as Mr. Collins expected the scene to inspire, and was but +slightly affected by his enumeration of the windows in front of the +house, and his relation of what the glazing altogether had originally +cost Sir Lewis de Bourgh.</p> + +<p>When they ascended the steps to the hall, Maria’s alarm was every moment +increasing, and even Sir William did not look perfectly calm. +Elizabeth’s courage did not fail her. She had heard nothing of Lady +Catherine that spoke her awful from any extraordinary talents or +miraculous virtue, and the mere stateliness of money and rank she +thought she could witness without trepidation.</p> + +<p>From the entrance hall, of which Mr. Collins pointed out, with a +rapturous air, the fine proportion and finished ornaments, they followed +the servants through an antechamber to the room where Lady Catherine, +her daughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson were sitting. Her Ladyship, with great +condescension, arose to receive them; and as Mrs. Collins had settled it +with her husband that the office of introduction should be hers, it was +performed in a proper manner, without any of those apologies and thanks +which he would have thought necessary.</p> + +<p>In spite of having been at St. James’s, Sir William was so completely +awed by the grandeur surrounding him, that he had but just courage +enough to make a very<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_203">{203}</a></span> low bow, and take his seat without saying a word; +and his daughter, frightened almost out of her senses, sat on the edge +of her chair, not knowing which way to look. Elizabeth found herself +quite equal to the scene, and could observe the three ladies before her +composedly. Lady Catherine was a tall, large woman, with strongly-marked +features, which might once have been handsome. Her air was not +conciliating, nor was her manner of receiving them such as to make her +visitors forget their inferior rank. She was not rendered formidable by +silence: but whatever she said was spoken in so authoritative a tone as +marked her self-importance, and brought Mr. Wickham immediately to +Elizabeth’s mind; and, from the observation of the day altogether, she +believed Lady Catherine to be exactly what he had represented.</p> + +<p>When, after examining the mother, in whose countenance and deportment +she soon found some resemblance of Mr. Darcy, she turned her eyes on the +daughter, she could almost have joined in Maria’s astonishment at her +being so thin and so small. There was neither in figure nor face any +likeness between the ladies. Miss de Bourgh was pale and sickly: her +features, though not plain, were insignificant; and she spoke very +little, except in a low voice, to Mrs. Jenkinson, in whose appearance +there was nothing remarkable, and who was entirely engaged in listening +to what she said, and placing a screen in the proper direction before +her eyes.</p> + +<p>After sitting a few minutes, they were all sent to one of the windows to +admire the view, Mr. Collins attending them to point out its beauties, +and Lady Catherine kindly informing them that it was much better worth +looking at in the summer.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_204">{204}</a></span></p> + +<p>The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were all the servants, +and all the articles of plate which Mr. Collins had promised; and, as he +had likewise foretold, he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by +her Ladyship’s desire, and looked as if he felt that life could furnish +nothing greater. He carved and ate and praised with delighted alacrity; +and every dish was commended first by him, and then by Sir William, who +was now enough recovered to echo whatever his son-in-law said, in a +manner which Elizabeth wondered Lady Catherine could bear. But Lady +Catherine seemed gratified by their excessive admiration, and gave most +gracious smiles, especially when any dish on the table proved a novelty +to them. The party did not supply much conversation. Elizabeth was ready +to speak whenever there was an opening, but she was seated between +Charlotte and Miss de Bourgh—the former of whom was engaged in +listening to Lady Catherine, and the latter said not a word to her all +the dinnertime. Mrs. Jenkinson was chiefly employed in watching how +little Miss de Bourgh ate, pressing her to try some other dish and +fearing she was indisposed. Maria thought speaking out of the question, +and the gentlemen did nothing but eat and admire.</p> + +<p>When the ladies returned to the drawing-room, there was little to be +done but to hear Lady Catherine talk, which she did without any +intermission till coffee came in, delivering her opinion on every +subject in so decisive a manner as proved that she was not used to have +her judgment controverted. She inquired into Charlotte’s domestic +concerns familiarly and minutely, and gave her a great deal of advice as +to the management of them all; told her how everything ought to be +regulated in so<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_205">{205}</a></span> small a family as hers, and instructed her as to the +care of her cows and her poultry. Elizabeth found that nothing was +beneath this great lady’s attention which could furnish her with an +occasion for dictating to others. In the intervals of her discourse with +Mrs. Collins, she addressed a variety of questions to Maria and +Elizabeth, but especially to the latter, of whose connections she knew +the least, and who, she observed to Mrs. Collins, was a very genteel, +pretty kind of girl. She asked her at different times how many sisters +she had, whether they were older or younger than herself, whether any of +them were likely to be married, whether they were handsome, where they +had been educated, what carriage her father kept, and what had been her +mother’s maiden name? Elizabeth felt all the impertinence of her +questions, but answered them very composedly. Lady Catherine then +observed,—</p> + +<p>“Your father’s estate is entailed on Mr. Collins, I think? For your +sake,” turning to Charlotte, “I am glad of it; but otherwise I see no +occasion for entailing estates from the female line. It was not thought +necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s family. Do you play and sing, Miss +Bennet?”</p> + +<p>“A little.”</p> + +<p>“Oh then—some time or other we shall be happy to hear you. Our +instrument is a capital one, probably superior to —— you shall try it +some day. Do your sisters play and sing?”</p> + +<p>“One of them does.”</p> + +<p>“Why did not you all learn? You ought all to have learned. The Miss +Webbs all play, and their father has not so good an income as yours. Do +you draw?”</p> + +<p>“No, not at all.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_206">{206}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“What, none of you?”</p> + +<p>“Not one.”</p> + +<p>“That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother +should have taken you to town every spring for the benefit of masters.”</p> + +<p>“My mother would have no objection, but my father hates London.”</p> + +<p>“Has your governess left you?”</p> + +<p>“We never had any governess.”</p> + +<p>“No governess! How was that possible? Five daughters brought up at home +without a governess! I never heard of such a thing. Your mother must +have been quite a slave to your education.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth could hardly help smiling, as she assured her that had not +been the case.</p> + +<p>“Then who taught you? who attended to you? Without a governess, you must +have been neglected.”</p> + +<p>“Compared with some families, I believe we were; but such of us as +wished to learn never wanted the means. We were always encouraged to +read, and had all the masters that were necessary. Those who chose to be +idle certainly might.”</p> + +<p>“Ay, no doubt: but that is what a governess will prevent; and if I had +known your mother, I should have advised her most strenuously to engage +one. I always say that nothing is to be done in education without steady +and regular instruction, and nobody but a governess can give it. It is +wonderful how many families I have been the means of supplying in that +way. I am always glad to get a young person well placed out. Four nieces +of Mrs. Jenkinson are most delightfully situated through my means; and +it was but the other day that I recommended another young person, who +was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_207">{207}</a></span> merely accidentally mentioned to me, and the family are quite +delighted with her. Mrs. Collins, did I tell you of Lady Metcalfe’s +calling yesterday to thank me? She finds Miss Pope a treasure. ‘Lady +Catherine,’ said she, ‘you have given me a treasure.’ Are any of your +younger sisters out, Miss Bennet?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, ma’am, all.”</p> + +<p>“All! What, all five out at once? Very odd! And you only the second. The +younger ones out before the elder are married! Your younger sisters must +be very young?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps <i>she</i> is full young to be much +in company. But really, ma’am, I think it would be very hard upon +younger sisters that they should not have their share of society and +amusement, because the elder may not have the means or inclination to +marry early. The last born has as good a right to the pleasures of youth +as the first. And to be kept back on <i>such</i> a motive! I think it would +not be very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind.”</p> + +<p>“Upon my word,” said her Ladyship, “you give your opinion very decidedly +for so young a person. Pray, what is your age?”</p> + +<p>“With three younger sisters grown up,” replied Elizabeth, smiling, “your +Ladyship can hardly expect me to own it.”</p> + +<p>Lady Catherine seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct answer; +and Elizabeth suspected herself to be the first creature who had ever +dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence.</p> + +<p>“You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure,—therefore you need not +conceal your age.”</p> + +<p>“I am not one-and-twenty.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_208">{208}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>When the gentlemen had joined them, and tea was over, the card tables +were placed. Lady Catherine, Sir William, and Mr. and Mrs. Collins sat +down to quadrille; and as Miss De Bourgh chose to play at cassino, the +two girls had the honour of assisting Mrs. Jenkinson to make up her +party. Their table was superlatively stupid. Scarcely a syllable was +uttered that did not relate to the game, except when Mrs. Jenkinson +expressed her fears of Miss De Bourgh’s being too hot or too cold, or +having too much or too little light. A great deal more passed at the +other table. Lady Catherine was generally speaking—stating the mistakes +of the three others, or relating some anecdote of herself. Mr. Collins +was employed in agreeing to everything her Ladyship said, thanking her +for every fish he won, and apologizing if he thought he won too many. +Sir William did not say much. He was storing his memory with anecdotes +and noble names.</p> + +<p>When Lady Catherine and her daughter had played as long as they chose, +the tables were broken up, the carriage was offered to Mrs. Collins, +gratefully accepted, and immediately ordered. The party then gathered +round the fire to hear Lady Catherine determine what weather they were +to have on the morrow. From these instructions they were summoned by the +arrival of the coach; and with many speeches of thankfulness on Mr. +Collins’s side, and as many bows on Sir William’s, they departed. As +soon as they had driven from the door, Elizabeth was called on by her +cousin to give her opinion of all that she had seen at Rosings, which, +for Charlotte’s sake, she made more favourable than it really was. But +her commendation, though costing her some trouble, could by no means +satisfy Mr. Collins, and he was very soon obliged to take her Ladyship’s +praise into his own hands.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_209">{209}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a><img src="images/i_238_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXX.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_238_b.png" +width="100" +alt="S"></span>IR WILLIAM stayed only a week at Hunsford; but his visit was long +enough to convince him of his daughter’s being most comfortably settled, +and of her possessing such a husband and such a neighbour as were not +often met with. While Sir William was with them, Mr. Collins devoted his +mornings to driving him out in his gig, and showing him the country: but +when he went away, the whole family returned to their usual employments, +and Elizabeth was thankful to find that they did not see more of her +cousin by the alteration; for the chief of the time between breakfast +and dinner was now passed by him either at work in the garden, or in +reading and writing, and looking out of window in his own book room, +which fronted the road.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_210">{210}</a></span> The room in which the ladies sat was backwards. +Elizabeth at first had rather wondered that Charlotte should not prefer +the dining parlour for common use; it was a better sized room, and had a +pleasanter aspect: but she soon saw that her friend had an excellent +reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been +much less in his own apartment had they sat in one equally lively; and +she gave Charlotte credit for the arrangement.</p> + +<p>From the drawing-room they could distinguish nothing in the lane, and +were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of what carriages went +along, and how often especially Miss De Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, +which he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened +almost every day. She not unfrequently stopped at the Parsonage, and had +a few minutes’ conversation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever +prevailed on to get out.</p> + +<p>Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did not walk to Rosings, and +not many in which his wife did not think it necessary to go likewise; +and till Elizabeth recollected that there might be other family livings +to be disposed of, she could not understand the sacrifice of so many +hours. Now and then they were honoured with a call from her Ladyship, +and nothing escaped her observation that was passing in the room during +these visits. She examined into their employments, looked at their work, +and advised them to do it differently; found fault with the arrangement +of the furniture, or detected the housemaid in negligence; and if she +accepted any refreshment, seemed to do it only for the sake of finding +out that Mrs. Collins’s joints of meat were too large for her family.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_211">{211}</a></span></p> + +<p>Elizabeth soon perceived, that though this great lady was not in the +commission of the peace for the county, she was a most active magistrate +in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which were carried to her by +Mr. Collins; and whenever any of the cottagers were disposed to be +quarrelsome, discontented, or too poor, she sallied forth into the +village to settle their differences, silence their complaints, and scold +them into harmony and plenty.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i_240.jpg" width="550" height="536" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<p>“he never failed to inform them”</p></div> +</div> + +<p>The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated about twice a week; +and, allowing for the loss of Sir William, and there being only one +card-table in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_212">{212}</a></span> evening, every such entertainment was the counterpart +of the first. Their other engagements were few, as the style of living +of the neighbourhood in general was beyond the Collinses’ reach. This, +however, was no evil to Elizabeth, and upon the whole she spent her time +comfortably enough: there were half hours of pleasant conversation with +Charlotte, and the weather was so fine for the time of year, that she +had often great enjoyment out of doors. Her favourite walk, and where +she frequently went while the others were calling on Lady Catherine, was +along the open grove which edged that side of the park, where there was +a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value but herself, and +where she felt beyond the reach of Lady Catherine’s curiosity.</p> + +<p>In this quiet way the first fortnight of her visit soon passed away. +Easter was approaching, and the week preceding it was to bring an +addition to the family at Rosings, which in so small a circle must be +important. Elizabeth had heard, soon after her arrival, that Mr. Darcy +was expected there in the course of a few weeks; and though there were +not many of her acquaintance whom she did not prefer, his coming would +furnish one comparatively new to look at in their Rosings parties, and +she might be amused in seeing how hopeless Miss Bingley’s designs on him +were, by his behaviour to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined +by Lady Catherine, who talked of his coming with the greatest +satisfaction, spoke of him in terms of the highest admiration, and +seemed almost angry to find that he had already been frequently seen by +Miss Lucas and herself.</p> + +<p>His arrival was soon known at the Parsonage; for Mr. Collins was walking +the whole morning within view of the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane, +in order to have<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_213">{213}</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 472px;"> +<img src="images/i_242.jpg" width="472" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<p> +“The gentlemen accompanied him.”<br> +</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="nind">the earliest assurance of it; and, after making his bow as the carriage +turned into the park, hurried home with the great intelligence. On the +following morning he hastened to Rosings to pay his respects. There were +two nephews of Lady Catherine to require them, for Mr. Darcy had brought +with him a Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of his uncle, Lord ——; +and, to the great surprise of all the party, when Mr. Collins returned, +the gentlemen accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them from her +husband’s room, crossing the road, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_214">{214}</a></span> immediately running into the +other, told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding,—</p> + +<p>“I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would +never have come so soon to wait upon me.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the compliment +before their approach was announced by the door-bell, and shortly +afterwards the three gentlemen entered the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam, +who led the way, was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and +address most truly the gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had been +used to look in Hertfordshire, paid his compliments, with his usual +reserve, to Mrs. Collins; and whatever might be his feelings towards her +friend, met her with every appearance of composure. Elizabeth merely +courtesied to him, without saying a word.</p> + +<p>Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly, with the +readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly; but +his cousin, after having addressed a slight observation on the house and +garden to Mrs. Collins, sat for some time without speaking to anybody. +At length, however, his civility was so far awakened as to inquire of +Elizabeth after the health of her family. She answered him in the usual +way; and, after a moment’s pause, added,—</p> + +<p>“My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never +happened to see her there?”</p> + +<p>She was perfectly sensible that he never had: but she wished to see +whether he would betray any consciousness of what had passed between the +Bingleys and Jane; and she thought he looked a little confused as he +answered that he had never been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet. The +subject was pursued no further, and the gentlemen soon afterwards went +away.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_215">{215}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a><img src="images/i_244_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br> +CHAPTER XXXI.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_244_b.png" +width="100" +alt="C"></span>OLONEL FITZWILLIAM’S manners were very much admired at the Parsonage, +and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably to the pleasure of +their engagements at Rosings. It was some days, however, before they +received any invitation thither, for while there were visitors in the +house they could not be necessary; and it was not till Easter-day, +almost a week after the gentlemen’s arrival, that they were honoured by +such an attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to +come there in the evening. For the last week they had seen very little +of either Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had called +at the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_216">{216}</a></span> Parsonage more than once during the time, but Mr. Darcy they had +only seen at church.</p> + +<p>The invitation was accepted, of course, and at a proper hour they joined +the party in Lady Catherine’s drawing-room. Her Ladyship received them +civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so +acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, +almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, +much more than to any other person in the room.</p> + +<p>Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them: anything was a +welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins’s pretty friend had, +moreover, caught his fancy very much. He now seated himself by her, and +talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying +at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so +well entertained in that room before; and they conversed with so much +spirit and flow as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself, as +well as of Mr. Darcy. <i>His</i> eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned +towards them with a look of curiosity; and that her Ladyship, after a +while, shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged, for she did not +scruple to call out,—</p> + +<p>“What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking +of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.”</p> + +<p>“We were talking of music, madam,” said he, when no longer able to avoid +a reply.</p> + +<p>“Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I +must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music. +There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_217">{217}</a></span> +enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever +learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her +health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have +performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister’s proficiency.</p> + +<p>“I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,” said Lady +Catherine; “and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel, +if she does not practise a great deal.”</p> + +<p>“I assure you, madam,” he replied, “that she does not need such advice. +She practises very constantly.”</p> + +<p>“So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write +to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often +tell young ladies, that no excellence in music is to be acquired without +constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will +never play really well, unless she practises more; and though Mrs. +Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told +her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. +Jenkinson’s room. She would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part +of the house.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt’s ill-breeding, and made +no answer.</p> + +<p>When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having +promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to the instrument. He +drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then +talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter walked away from +her, and moving with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte, +stationed himself so<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_218">{218}</a></span> as to command a full view of the fair performer’s +countenance. Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first +convenient pause turned to him with an arch smile, and said,—</p> + +<p>“You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear +me. But I will not be alarmed, though your sister <i>does</i> play so well. +There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at +the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to +intimidate me.”</p> + +<p>“I shall not say that you are mistaken,” he replied, “because you could +not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I +have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know, that you +find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which, in fact, +are not your own.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to +Colonel Fitzwilliam, “Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of +me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky +in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a +part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree +of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention +all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire—and, give me +leave to say, very impolitic too—for it is provoking me to retaliate, +and such things may come out as will shock your relations to hear.”</p> + +<p>“I am not afraid of you,” said he, smilingly.</p> + +<p>“Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” cried Colonel +Fitzwilliam. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”</p> + +<p>“You shall hear, then—but prepare for something very<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_219">{219}</a></span> dreadful. The +first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at +a ball—and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four +dances! I am sorry to pain you, but so it was. He danced only four +dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more +than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, +you cannot deny the fact.”</p> + +<p>“I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly +beyond my own party.”</p> + +<p>“True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well, Colonel +Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” said Darcy, “I should have judged better had I sought an +introduction, but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.”</p> + +<p>“Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” said Elizabeth, still +addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and +education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend +himself to strangers?”</p> + +<p>“I can answer your question,” said Fitzwilliam, “without applying to +him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”</p> + +<p>“I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy, +“of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot +catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their +concerns, as I often see done.”</p> + +<p>“My fingers,” said Elizabeth, “do not move over this instrument in the +masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same +force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I +have<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_220">{220}</a></span> always supposed it to be my own fault—because I would not take +the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe <i>my</i> fingers +as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.”</p> + +<p>Darcy smiled and said, “You are perfectly right. You have employed your +time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you can +think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers.”</p> + +<p>Here they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to know +what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began playing again. +Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, said +to Darcy,—</p> + +<p>“Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practised more, and +could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion +of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne’s. Anne would have +been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth looked at Darcy, to see how cordially he assented to his +cousin’s praise: but neither at that moment nor at any other could she +discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss +De Bourgh she derived this comfort for Miss Bingley, that he might have +been just as likely to marry <i>her</i>, had she been his relation.</p> + +<p>Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth’s performance, mixing +with them many instructions on execution and taste. Elizabeth received +them with all the forbearance of civility; and at the request of the +gentlemen remained at the instrument till her Ladyship’s carriage was +ready to take them all home.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_221">{221}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a><img src="images/i_250_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXXII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_250_b.png" +width="100" +alt="E"></span>LIZABETH was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Jane, +while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village, +when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a +visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be +Lady Catherine; and under that apprehension was putting<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_222">{222}</a></span> away her +half-finished letter, that she might escape all impertinent questions, +when the door opened, and to her very great surprise Mr. Darcy, and Mr. +Darcy only, entered the room.</p> + +<p>He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologized for his +intrusion, by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies to +be within.</p> + +<p>They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings were made, +seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was absolutely +necessary, therefore, to think of something; and in this emergency +recollecting <i>when</i> she had seen him last in Hertfordshire, and feeling +curious to know what he would say on the subject of their hasty +departure, she observed,—</p> + +<p>“How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy! +It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you +all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day +before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly so, I thank you.”</p> + +<p>She found that she was to receive no other answer; and, after a short +pause, added,—</p> + +<p>“I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever +returning to Netherfield again?”</p> + +<p>“I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may spend +very little of his time there in future. He has many friends, and he is +at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually +increasing.”</p> + +<p>“If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the +neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we +might possibly get a settled family there. But, perhaps, Mr. Bingley did +not take the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_223">{223}</a></span> house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as +for his own, and we must expect him to keep or quit it on the same +principle.”</p> + +<p>“I should not be surprised,” said Darcy, “if he were to give it up as +soon as any eligible purchase offers.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of his +friend; and, having nothing else to say, was now determined to leave the +trouble of finding a subject to him.</p> + +<p>He took the hint and soon began with, “This seems a very comfortable +house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. +Collins first came to Hunsford.”</p> + +<p>“I believe she did—and I am sure she could not have bestowed her +kindness on a more grateful object.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of +the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made +him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding—though +I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest +thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however; and, in a +prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her.”</p> + +<p>“It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy a +distance of her own family and friends.”</p> + +<p>“An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles.”</p> + +<p>“And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day’s +journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance.”</p> + +<p>“I should never have considered the distance as one of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_224">{224}</a></span> the <i>advantages</i> +of the match,” cried Elizabeth. “I should never have said Mrs. Collins +was settled <i>near</i> her family.”</p> + +<p>“It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Anything beyond +the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far.”</p> + +<p>As he spoke there was a sort of smile, which Elizabeth fancied she +understood; he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane and +Netherfield, and she blushed as she answered,—</p> + +<p>“I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her +family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many +varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expense of +travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the +case <i>here</i>. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not +such a one as will allow of frequent journeys—and I am persuaded my +friend would not call herself <i>near</i> her family under less than <i>half</i> +the present distance.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, “<i>You</i> cannot +have a right to such very strong local attachment. <i>You</i> cannot have +been always at Longbourn.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth looked surprised. The gentleman experienced some change of +feeling; he drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and, +glancing over it, said, in a colder voice,—</p> + +<p>“Are you pleased with Kent?”</p> + +<p>A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either side +calm and concise—and soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte +and her sister, just returned from their walk. The <i>tête-à-tête</i> +surprised them. Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_225">{225}</a></span> Darcy related the mistake which had occasioned his +intruding on Miss Bennet, and, after sitting a few minutes longer, +without saying much to anybody, went away.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 361px;"> +<img src="images/i_254.jpg" width="361" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"><p>“Accompanied by their aunt”</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_226">{226}</a></span></p> + +<p>“What can be the meaning of this?” said Charlotte, as soon as he was +gone. “My dear Eliza, he must be in love with you, or he would never +have called on us in this familiar way.”</p> + +<p>But when Elizabeth told of his silence, it did not seem very likely, +even to Charlotte’s wishes, to be the case; and, after various +conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to proceed from +the difficulty of finding anything to do, which was the more probable +from the time of year. All field sports were over. Within doors there +was Lady Catherine, books, and a billiard table, but gentlemen cannot be +always within doors; and in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the +pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the +two cousins found a temptation from this period of walking thither +almost every day. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes +separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied by their +aunt. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he +had pleasure in their society, a persuasion which of course recommended +him still more; and Elizabeth was reminded by her own satisfaction in +being with him, as well as by his evident admiration, of her former +favourite, George Wickham; and though, in comparing them, she saw there +was less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners, she +believed he might have the best informed mind.</p> + +<p>But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage it was more difficult +to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there +ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it +seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice—a sacrifice to +propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_227">{227}</a></span> seldom appeared really +animated. Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel +Fitzwilliam’s occasionally laughing at his stupidity proved that he was +generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told +her; and as she would have liked to believe this change the effect of +love, and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she set herself +seriously to work to find it out: she watched him whenever they were at +Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success. He +certainly looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that +look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often +doubted whether there were much admiration in it, and sometimes it +seemed nothing but absence of mind.</p> + +<p>She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of his +being partial to her, but Elizabeth always laughed at the idea; and Mrs. +Collins did not think it right to press the subject, from the danger of +raising expectations which might only end in disappointment; for in her +opinion it admitted not of a doubt, that all her friend’s dislike would +vanish, if she could suppose him to be in her power.</p> + +<p>In her kind schemes for Elizabeth, she sometimes planned her marrying +Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was, beyond comparison, the pleasantest man: he +certainly admired her, and his situation in life was most eligible; but, +to counterbalance these advantages, Mr. Darcy had considerable patronage +in the church, and his cousin could have none at all.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_228">{228}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a><img src="images/i_257_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“On looking up.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_257_b.png" +width="100" +alt="M"></span>ORE than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park, +unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the +mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought; and, to +prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him, at first, +that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, +therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even the third. It seemed like +wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance; for on these occasions it was +not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, +but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He +never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking +or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_229">{229}</a></span> third +encounter that he was asking some odd unconnected questions—about her +pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her +opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins’s happiness; and that in speaking of +Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to +expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying +<i>there</i> too. His words seemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel +Fitzwilliam in his thoughts? She supposed, if he meant anything, he must +mean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter. It distressed her +a little, and she was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the +pales opposite the Parsonage.</p> + +<p>She was engaged one day, as she walked, in re-perusing Jane’s last +letter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane had not +written in spirits, when, instead of being again surprised by Mr. Darcy, +she saw, on looking up, that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her. +Putting away the letter immediately, and forcing a smile, she said,—</p> + +<p>“I did not know before that you ever walked this way.”</p> + +<p>“I have been making the tour of the park,” he replied, “as I generally +do every year, and intended to close it with a call at the Parsonage. +Are you going much farther?”</p> + +<p>“No, I should have turned in a moment.”</p> + +<p>And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonage +together.</p> + +<p>“Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?” said she.</p> + +<p>“Yes—if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. He +arranges the business just as he pleases.”</p> + +<p>“And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least +great pleasure in the power of choice. I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_230">{230}</a></span> do not know anybody who seems +more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy.”</p> + +<p>“He likes to have his own way very well,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. +“But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it than +many others, because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speak +feelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and +dependence.”</p> + +<p>“In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very little of +either. Now, seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial and +dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going +wherever you chose or procuring anything you had a fancy for?”</p> + +<p>“These are home questions—and perhaps I cannot say that I have +experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greater +weight, I may suffer from the want of money. Younger sons cannot marry +where they like.”</p> + +<p>“Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very often +do.”</p> + +<p>“Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not many in +my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to +money.”</p> + +<p>“Is this,” thought Elizabeth, “meant for me?” and she coloured at the +idea; but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, “And pray, what is +the usual price of an earl’s younger son? Unless the elder brother is +very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds.”</p> + +<p>He answered her in the same style, and the subject dropped. To interrupt +a silence which might make him fancy her affected with what had passed, +she soon afterwards said,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_231">{231}</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of +having somebody at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure a +lasting convenience of that kind. But, perhaps, his sister does as well +for the present; and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what he +likes with her.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, “that is an advantage which he must +divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy.”</p> + +<p>“Are you, indeed? And pray what sort of a guardian do you make? Does +your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes +a little difficult to manage; and if she has the true Darcy spirit, she +may like to have her own way.”</p> + +<p>As she spoke, she observed him looking at her earnestly; and the manner +in which he immediately asked her why she supposed Miss Darcy likely to +give them any uneasiness, convinced her that she had somehow or other +got pretty near the truth. She directly replied,—</p> + +<p>“You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and I dare +say she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. She is a +very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, Mrs. Hurst and +Miss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that you know them.”</p> + +<p>“I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant, gentlemanlike +man—he is a great friend of Darcy’s.”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes,” said Elizabeth drily—“Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr. +Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.”</p> + +<p>“Care of him! Yes, I really believe Darcy <i>does</i> take care of him in +those points where he most wants care.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_232">{232}</a></span> From something that he told me +in our journey hither, I have reason to think Bingley very much indebted +to him. But I ought to beg his pardon, for I have no right to suppose +that Bingley was the person meant. It was all conjecture.”</p> + +<p>“What is it you mean?”</p> + +<p>“It is a circumstance which Darcy of course could not wish to be +generally known, because if it were to get round to the lady’s family it +would be an unpleasant thing.”</p> + +<p>“You may depend upon my not mentioning it.”</p> + +<p>“And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it to be +Bingley. What he told me was merely this: that he congratulated himself +on having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of a most +imprudent marriage, but without mentioning names or any other +particulars; and I only suspected it to be Bingley from believing him +the kind of young man to get into a scrape of that sort, and from +knowing them to have been together the whole of last summer.”</p> + +<p>“Did Mr. Darcy give you his reasons for this interference?”</p> + +<p>“I understood that there were some very strong objections against the +lady.”</p> + +<p>“And what arts did he use to separate them?”</p> + +<p>“He did not talk to me of his own arts,” said Fitzwilliam, smiling. “He +only told me what I have now told you.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart swelling with +indignation. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked her why she +was so thoughtful.</p> + +<p>“I am thinking of what you have been telling me,” said she. “Your +cousin’s conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the +judge?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_233">{233}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?”</p> + +<p>“I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the propriety of his +friend’s inclination; or why, upon his own judgment alone, he was to +determine and direct in what manner that friend was to be happy. But,” +she continued, recollecting herself, “as we know none of the +particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed +that there was much affection in the case.”</p> + +<p>“That is not an unnatural surmise,” said Fitzwilliam; “but it is +lessening the honour of my cousin’s triumph very sadly.”</p> + +<p>This was spoken jestingly, but it appeared to her so just a picture of +Mr. Darcy, that she would not trust herself with an answer; and, +therefore, abruptly changing the conversation, talked on indifferent +matters till they reached the Parsonage. There, shut into her own room, +as soon as their visitor left them, she could think without interruption +of all that she had heard. It was not to be supposed that any other +people could be meant than those with whom she was connected. There +could not exist in the world <i>two</i> men over whom Mr. Darcy could have +such boundless influence. That he had been concerned in the measures +taken to separate Mr. Bingley and Jane, she had never doubted; but she +had always attributed to Miss Bingley the principal design and +arrangement of them. If his own vanity, however, did not mislead him, +<i>he</i> was the cause—his pride and caprice were the cause—of all that +Jane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He had ruined for a +while every hope of happiness for the most affectionate, generous heart +in the world; and no one could say how lasting an evil he might have +inflicted.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_234">{234}</a></span></p> + +<p>“There were some very strong objections against the lady,” were Colonel +Fitzwilliam’s words; and these strong objections probably were, her +having one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who was in +business in London.</p> + +<p>“To Jane herself,” she exclaimed, “there could be no possibility of +objection,—all loveliness and goodness as she is! Her understanding +excellent, her mind improved, and her manners captivating. Neither could +anything be urged against my father, who, though with some +peculiarities, has abilities which Mr. Darcy himself need not disdain, +and respectability which he will probably never reach.” When she thought +of her mother, indeed, her confidence gave way a little; but she would +not allow that any objections <i>there</i> had material weight with Mr. +Darcy, whose pride, she was convinced, would receive a deeper wound from +the want of importance in his friend’s connections than from their want +of sense; and she was quite decided, at last, that he had been partly +governed by this worst kind of pride, and partly by the wish of +retaining Mr. Bingley for his sister.</p> + +<p>The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned brought on a +headache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening that, added to +her unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy, it determined her not to attend her +cousins to Rosings, where they were engaged to drink tea. Mrs. Collins, +seeing that she was really unwell, did not press her to go, and as much +as possible prevented her husband from pressing her; but Mr. Collins +could not conceal his apprehension of Lady Catherine’s being rather +displeased by her staying at home.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_235">{235}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a><img src="images/i_264_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_264_b.png" +width="100" +alt="W"></span>HEN they were gone, Elizabeth, as if intending to exasperate herself as +much as possible against Mr. Darcy, chose for her employment the +examination of all the letters which Jane had written to her since her +being in Kent. They contained no actual complaint, nor was there any +revival of past occurrences,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_236">{236}</a></span> or any communication of present suffering. +But in all, and in almost every line of each, there was a want of that +cheerfulness which had been used to characterize her style, and which, +proceeding from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself, and kindly +disposed towards everyone, had been scarcely ever clouded. Elizabeth +noticed every sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness, with an +attention which it had hardly received on the first perusal. Mr. Darcy’s +shameful boast of what misery he had been able to inflict gave her a +keener sense of her sister’s sufferings. It was some consolation to +think that his visit to Rosings was to end on the day after the next, +and a still greater that in less than a fortnight she should herself be +with Jane again, and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her +spirits, by all that affection could do.</p> + +<p>She could not think of Darcy’s leaving Kent without remembering that his +cousin was to go with him; but Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear +that he had no intentions at all, and, agreeable as he was, she did not +mean to be unhappy about him.</p> + +<p>While settling this point, she was suddenly roused by the sound of the +door-bell; and her spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of its +being Colonel Fitzwilliam himself, who had once before called late in +the evening, and might now come to inquire particularly after her. But +this idea was soon banished, and her spirits were very differently +affected, when, to her utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the +room. In a hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her +health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better. +She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and +then getting up walked<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_237">{237}</a></span> about the room. Elizabeth was surprised, but +said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her +in an agitated manner, and thus began:—</p> + +<p>“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be +repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love +you.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured, +doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement, +and the avowal of all that he felt and had long felt for her immediately +followed. He spoke well; but there were feelings besides those of the +heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of +tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority, of its being a +degradation, of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed +to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the +consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his +suit.</p> + +<p>In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she could not be insensible to +the compliment of such a man’s affection, and though her intentions did +not vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for the pain he was to +receive; till roused to resentment by his subsequent language, she lost +all compassion in anger. She tried, however, to compose herself to +answer him with patience, when he should have done. He concluded with +representing to her the strength of that attachment which in spite of +all his endeavours he had found impossible to conquer; and with +expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of +his hand. As he said this she could easily see that he had no doubt of a +favourable answer. He <i>spoke</i> of apprehension and anxiety, but his +countenance expressed real security. Such a circumstance<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_238">{238}</a></span> could only +exasperate farther; and when he ceased the colour rose into her cheeks +and she said,—</p> + +<p>“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to +express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however +unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be +felt, and if I could <i>feel</i> gratitude, I would now thank you. But I +cannot—I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly +bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to +anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be +of short duration. The feelings which you tell me have long prevented +the acknowledgment of your regard can have little difficulty in +overcoming it after this explanation.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantel-piece with his eyes fixed +on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than +surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of +his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the +appearance of composure, and would not open his lips till he believed +himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth’s feelings +dreadful. At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said,—</p> + +<p>“And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I +might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little <i>endeavour</i> at +civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.”</p> + +<p>“I might as well inquire,” replied she, “why, with so evident a design +of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me +against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? +Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I <i>was</i> uncivil? But I have +other provocations. You know I have.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_239">{239}</a></span> Had not my own feelings decided +against you, had they been indifferent, or had they even been +favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept +the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the +happiness of a most beloved sister?”</p> + +<p>As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy changed colour; but the emotion +was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she +continued,—</p> + +<p>“I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can +excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted <i>there</i>. You dare not, +you cannot deny that you have been the principal, if not the only means +of dividing them from each other, of exposing one to the censure of the +world for caprice and instability, the other to its derision for +disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest +kind.”</p> + +<p>She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was listening +with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. +He even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity.</p> + +<p>“Can you deny that you have done it?” she repeated.</p> + +<p>With assumed tranquillity he then replied, “I have no wish of denying +that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your +sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards <i>him</i> I have been +kinder than towards myself.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth disdained the appearance of noticing this civil reflection, +but its meaning did not escape, nor was it likely to conciliate her.</p> + +<p>“But it is not merely this affair,” she continued, “on which my dislike +is founded. Long before it had taken<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_240">{240}</a></span> place, my opinion of you was +decided. Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received +many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to +say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself? +or under what misrepresentation can you here impose upon others?”</p> + +<p>“You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns,” said Darcy, +in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour.</p> + +<p>“Who that knows what his misfortunes have been can help feeling an +interest in him?”</p> + +<p>“His misfortunes!” repeated Darcy, contemptuously,—“yes, his +misfortunes have been great indeed.”</p> + +<p>“And of your infliction,” cried Elizabeth, with energy; “You have +reduced him to his present state of poverty—comparative poverty. You +have withheld the advantages which you must know to have been designed +for him. You have deprived the best years of his life of that +independence which was no less his due than his desert. You have done +all this! and yet you can treat the mention of his misfortunes with +contempt and ridicule.”</p> + +<p>“And this,” cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across the room, +“is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I +thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this +calculation, are heavy indeed! But, perhaps,” added he, stopping in his +walk, and turning towards her, “these offences might have been +overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the +scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These +bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater +policy, concealed my struggles, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_241">{241}</a></span> flattered you into the belief of my +being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination; by reason, by +reflection, by everything. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. +Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. +Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your +connections?—to congratulate myself on the hope of relations whose +condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry every moment; yet she tried to +the utmost to speak with composure when she said,—</p> + +<p>“You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your +declaration affected me in any other way than as it spared me the +concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a +more gentlemanlike manner.”</p> + +<p>She saw him start at this; but he said nothing, and she continued,—</p> + +<p>“You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way +that would have tempted me to accept it.”</p> + +<p>Again his astonishment was obvious; and he looked at her with an +expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. She went on,—</p> + +<p>“From the very beginning, from the first moment, I may almost say, of my +acquaintance with you, your manners impressing me with the fullest +belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the +feelings of others, were such as to form that groundwork of +disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immovable a +dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the +last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_242">{242}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your +feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. +Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best +wishes for your health and happiness.”</p> + +<p>And with these words he hastily left the room, and Elizabeth heard him +the next moment open the front door and quit the house. The tumult of +her mind was now painfully great. She knew not how to support herself, +and, from actual weakness, sat down and cried for half an hour. Her +astonishment, as she reflected on what had passed, was increased by +every review of it. That she should receive an offer of marriage from +Mr. Darcy! that he should have been in love with her for so many months! +so much in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections +which had made him prevent his friend’s marrying her sister, and which +must appear at least with equal force in his own case, was almost +incredible! it was gratifying to have inspired unconsciously so strong +an affection. But his pride, his abominable pride, his shameless avowal +of what he had done with respect to Jane, his unpardonable assurance in +acknowledging, though he could not justify it, and the unfeeling manner +which he had mentioned Mr. Wickham, his cruelty towards whom he had not +attempted to deny, soon overcame the pity which the consideration of his +attachment had for a moment excited.</p> + +<p>She continued in very agitating reflections till the sound of Lady +Catherine’s carriage made her feel how unequal she was to encounter +Charlotte’s observation, and hurried her away to her room.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_243">{243}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a><img src="images/i_272_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“Hearing herself called.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXXV.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_272_b.png" +width="100" +alt="E"></span>LIZABETH awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations +which had at length closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from the +surprise of what had happened: it was impossible to think of anything +else; and, totally indisposed for employment, she resolved soon after +breakfast to indulge herself in air and exercise. She was proceeding +directly to her favourite walk, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy’s +sometimes coming there stopped her, and instead of entering the park, +she turned up the lane which led her farther from the turnpike road. The +park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she soon passed one +of the gates into the ground.</p> + +<p>After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, she was +tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at the gates and +look into the park. The five weeks which she had now passed in Kent had +made a great difference in the country, and every day was adding to the +verdure of the early trees. She was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_244">{244}</a></span> on the point of continuing her +walk, when she caught a glimpse of a gentleman within the sort of grove +which edged the park: he was moving that way; and fearful of its being +Mr. Darcy, she was directly retreating. But the person who advanced was +now near enough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness, +pronounced her name. She had turned away; but on hearing herself called, +though in a voice which proved it to be Mr. Darcy, she moved again +towards the gate. He had by that time reached it also; and, holding out +a letter, which she instinctively took, said, with a look of haughty +composure, “I have been walking in the grove some time, in the hope of +meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?” and +then, with a slight bow, turned again into the plantation, and was soon +out of sight.</p> + +<p>With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity, +Elizabeth opened the letter, and to her still increasing wonder, +perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter paper, written +quite through, in a very close hand. The envelope itself was likewise +full. Pursuing her way along the lane, she then began it. It was dated +from Rosings, at eight o’clock in the morning, and was as follows:—</p> + +<p>“Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of +its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those +offers, which were last night so disgusting to you. I write without any +intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes, +which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten; and the +effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion, +should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_245">{245}</a></span> +and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand +your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I +demand it of your justice.</p> + +<p>“Two offences of a very different nature, and by no means of equal +magnitude, you last night laid to my charge. The first mentioned was, +that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had detached Mr. Bingley +from your sister,—and the other, that I had, in defiance of various +claims, in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the immediate +prosperity and blasted the prospects of Mr. Wickham. Wilfully and +wantonly to have thrown off the companion of my youth, the acknowledged +favourite of my father, a young man who had scarcely any other +dependence than on our patronage, and who had been brought up to expect +its exertion, would be a depravity, to which the separation of two young +persons whose affection could be the growth of only a few weeks, could +bear no comparison. But from the severity of that blame which was last +night so liberally bestowed, respecting each circumstance, I shall hope +to be in future secured, when the following account of my actions and +their motives has been read. If, in the explanation of them which is due +to myself, I am under the necessity of relating feelings which may be +offensive to yours, I can only say that I am sorry. The necessity must +be obeyed, and further apology would be absurd. I had not been long in +Hertfordshire before I saw, in common with others, that Bingley +preferred your elder sister to any other young woman in the country. But +it was not till the evening of the dance at Netherfield that I had any +apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment. I had often seen him +in love before. At that ball, while I had<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_246">{246}</a></span> the honour of dancing with +you, I was first made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas’s accidental +information, that Bingley’s attentions to your sister had given rise to +a general expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it as a certain +event, of which the time alone could be undecided. From that moment I +observed my friend’s behaviour attentively; and I could then perceive +that his partiality for Miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed +in him. Your sister I also watched. Her look and manners were open, +cheerful, and engaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar +regard; and I remained convinced, from the evening’s scrutiny, that +though she received his attentions with pleasure, she did not invite +them by any participation of sentiment. If <i>you</i> have not been mistaken +here, <i>I</i> must have been in an error. Your superior knowledge of your +sister must make the latter probable. If it be so, if I have been misled +by such error to inflict pain on her, your resentment has not been +unreasonable. But I shall not scruple to assert, that the serenity of +your sister’s countenance and air was such as might have given the most +acute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart +was not likely to be easily touched. That I was desirous of believing +her indifferent is certain; but I will venture to say that my +investigations and decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or +fears. I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; I +believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason. +My objections to the marriage were not merely those which I last night +acknowledged to have required the utmost force of passion to put aside +in my own case; the want of connection could not be so great an evil to +my friend as to me. But there were<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_247">{247}</a></span> other causes of repugnance; causes +which, though still existing, and existing to an equal degree in both +instances, I had myself endeavoured to forget, because they were not +immediately before me. These causes must be stated, though briefly. The +situation of your mother’s family, though objectionable, was nothing in +comparison of that total want of propriety so frequently, so almost +uniformly betrayed by herself, by your three younger sisters, and +occasionally even by your father:—pardon me,—it pains me to offend +you. But amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations, +and your displeasure at this representation of them, let it give you +consolation to consider that to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid +any share of the like censure is praise no less generally bestowed on +you and your eldest sister than it is honourable to the sense and +disposition of both. I will only say, farther, that from what passed +that evening my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every +inducement heightened, which could have led me before to preserve my +friend from what I esteemed a most unhappy connection. He left +Netherfield for London on the day following, as you, I am certain, +remember, with the design of soon returning. The part which I acted is +now to be explained. His sisters’ uneasiness had been equally excited +with my own: our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered; and, alike +sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we +shortly resolved on joining him directly in London. We accordingly +went—and there I readily engaged in the office of pointing out to my +friend the certain evils of such a choice. I described and enforced them +earnestly. But however this remonstrance might have staggered or delayed +his determination, I do not<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_248">{248}</a></span> suppose that it would ultimately have +prevented the marriage, had it not been seconded by the assurance, which +I hesitated not in giving, of your sister’s indifference. He had before +believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal, +regard. But Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger +dependence on my judgment than on his own. To convince him, therefore, +that he had deceived himself was no very difficult point. To persuade +him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been +given, was scarcely the work of a moment. I cannot blame myself for +having done thus much. There is but one part of my conduct, in the whole +affair, on which I do not reflect with satisfaction; it is that I +condescended to adopt the measures of art so far as to conceal from him +your sister’s being in town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss +Bingley; but her brother is even yet ignorant of it. That they might +have met without ill consequence is, perhaps, probable; but his regard +did not appear to me enough extinguished for him to see her without some +danger. Perhaps this concealment, this disguise, was beneath me. It is +done, however, and it was done for the best. On this subject I have +nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I have wounded your +sister’s feelings, it was unknowingly done; and though the motives which +governed me may to you very naturally appear insufficient, I have not +yet learnt to condemn them.—With respect to that other, more weighty +accusation, of having injured Mr. Wickham, I can only refute it by +laying before you the whole of his connection with my family. Of what he +has <i>particularly</i> accused me I am ignorant; but of the truth of what I +shall relate I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_249">{249}</a></span> +Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years +the management of all the Pemberley estates, and whose good conduct in +the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service +to him; and on George Wickham, who was his godson, his kindness was +therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and +afterwards at Cambridge; most important assistance, as his own father, +always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to +give him a gentleman’s education. My father was not only fond of this +young man’s society, whose manners were always engaging, he had also the +highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession, +intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years +since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The +vicious propensities, the want of principle, which he was careful to +guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the +observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who +had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy +could not have. Here again I shall give you pain—to what degree you +only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has +created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding +his real character. It adds even another motive. My excellent father +died about five years ago; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the +last so steady, that in his will he particularly recommended it to me to +promote his advancement in the best manner that his profession might +allow, and if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living +might be his as soon as it became vacant. There was also a legacy of +one<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_250">{250}</a></span> thousand pounds. His own father did not long survive mine; and +within half a year from these events Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me +that, having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should +not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate +pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment, by which he could not be +benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying the law, and I +must be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds would be a very +insufficient support therein. I rather wished than believed him to be +sincere; but, at any rate, was perfectly ready to accede to his +proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman. The +business was therefore soon settled. He resigned all claim to assistance +in the church, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to +receive it, and accepted in return three thousand pounds. All connection +between us seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him to invite him +to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town, I believe, he +chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a mere pretence; and being +now free from all restraint, his life was a life of idleness and +dissipation. For about three years I heard little of him; but on the +decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him, +he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. His +circumstances, he assured me, and I had no difficulty in believing it, +were exceedingly bad. He had found the law a most unprofitable study, +and was now absolutely resolved on being ordained, if I would present +him to the living in question—of which he trusted there could be little +doubt, as he was well assured that I had no other person to provide for, +and I could not have forgotten my revered father’s intentions. You will +hardly blame me<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_251">{251}</a></span> for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or for +resisting every repetition of it. His resentment was in proportion to +the distress of his circumstances—and he was doubtless as violent in +his abuse of me to others as in his reproaches to myself. After this +period, every appearance of acquaintance was dropped. How he lived, I +know not. But last summer he was again most painfully obtruded on my +notice. I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget +myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me +to unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of +your secrecy. My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left +to the guardianship of my mother’s nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and +myself. About a year ago, she was taken from school, and an +establishment formed for her in London; and last summer she went with +the lady who presided over it to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr. +Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior +acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were +most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and aid he so far +recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a +strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was +persuaded to believe herself in love and to consent to an elopement. She +was then but fifteen, which must be her excuse; and after stating her +imprudence, I am happy to add, that I owed the knowledge of it to +herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended +elopement; and then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving +and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, +acknowledged the whole to me. You may imagine what<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_252">{252}</a></span> I felt and how I +acted. Regard for my sister’s credit and feelings prevented any public +exposure; but I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately, +and Mrs. Younge was of course removed from her charge. Mr. Wickham’s +chief object was unquestionably my sister’s fortune, which is thirty +thousand pounds; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging +himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been +complete indeed. This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in +which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely +reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty +towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of +falsehood, he has imposed on you; but his success is not perhaps to be +wondered at, ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning +either. Detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly +not in your inclination. You may possibly wonder why all this was not +told you last night. But I was not then master enough of myself to know +what could or ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything here +related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel +Fitzwilliam, who, from our near relationship and constant intimacy, and +still more as one of the executors of my father’s will, has been +unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. If +your abhorrence of <i>me</i> should make <i>my</i> assertions valueless, you +cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and +that there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavour +to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the +course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you.</p> + +<p class="rt"> +“<span class="smcap">Fitzwilliam Darcy.</span>”<br> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_253">{253}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a><img src="images/i_282_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2> + +<p class="nind"> +<span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_282_b.png" +width="100" +alt=""></span>ELIZABETH, when Mr. Darcy gave her the letter, did not expect it to +contain a renewal of his offers, she had formed no expectation at all of +its contents. But such as they were, it may be well supposed how eagerly +she went through them, and what a contrariety of emotion they excited. +Her feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined. With amazement did +she first understand that he believed any apology to be in his power; +and steadfastly was she persuaded, that he could have no explanation to +give, which a just sense of shame would not conceal. With a strong +prejudice<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_254">{254}</a></span> against everything he might say, she began his account of +what had happened at Netherfield. She read with an eagerness which +hardly left her power of comprehension; and from impatience of knowing +what the next sentence might bring, was incapable of attending to the +sense of the one before her eyes. His belief of her sister’s +insensibility she instantly resolved to be false; and his account of the +real, the worst objections to the match, made her too angry to have any +wish of doing him justice. He expressed no regret for what he had done +which satisfied her; his style was not penitent, but haughty. It was all +pride and insolence.</p> + +<p>But when this subject was succeeded by his account of Mr. Wickham—when +she read, with somewhat clearer attention, a relation of events which, +if true, must overthrow every cherished opinion of his worth, and which +bore so alarming an affinity to his own history of himself—her feelings +were yet more acutely painful and more difficult of definition. +Astonishment, apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished +to discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, “This must be false! +This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!”—and when she had +gone through the whole letter, though scarcely knowing anything of the +last page or two, put it hastily away, protesting that she would not +regard it, that she would never look in it again.</p> + +<p>In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest on +nothing, she walked on; but it would not do: in half a minute the letter +was unfolded again; and collecting herself as well as she could, she +again began the mortifying perusal of all that related to Wickham, and +commanded herself so far as to examine the meaning of every sentence. +The account of his connection with<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_255">{255}</a></span> the Pemberley family was exactly +what he had related himself; and the kindness of the late Mr. Darcy, +though she had not before known its extent, agreed equally well with his +own words. So far each recital confirmed the other; but when she came to +the will, the difference was great. What Wickham had said of the living +was fresh in her memory; and as she recalled his very words, it was +impossible not to feel that there was gross duplicity on one side or the +other, and, for a few moments, she flattered herself that her wishes did +not err. But when she read and re-read, with the closest attention, the +particulars immediately following of Wickham’s resigning all pretensions +to the living, of his receiving in lieu so considerable a sum as three +thousand pounds, again was she forced to hesitate. She put down the +letter, weighed every circumstance with what she meant to be +impartiality—deliberated on the probability of each statement—but with +little success. On both sides it was only assertion. Again she read on. +But every line proved more clearly that the affair, which she had +believed it impossible that any contrivance could so represent as to +render Mr. Darcy’s conduct in it less than infamous, was capable of a +turn which must make him entirely blameless throughout the whole.</p> + +<p>The extravagance and general profligacy which he scrupled not to lay to +Mr. Wickham’s charge exceedingly shocked her; the more so, as she could +bring no proof of its injustice. She had never heard of him before his +entrance into the ——shire militia, in which he had engaged at the +persuasion of the young man, who, on meeting him accidentally in town, +had there renewed a slight acquaintance. Of his former way of life, +nothing had been known in Hertfordshire but what he told<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_256">{256}</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i_285.jpg" width="550" height="459" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Meeting accidentally in Town”</p></div> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="nind">himself. As to his real character, had information been in her power, +she had never felt a wish of inquiring. His countenance, voice, and +manner, had established him at once in the possession of every virtue. +She tried to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished +trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the +attacks of Mr. Darcy; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone +for those casual errors, under which she would endeavour to class what +Mr. Darcy had described as the idleness and vice of many years’ +continuance. But no such recollection befriended her. She could see him +instantly before her, in every charm of air and address, but she could +remember no more substantial good than the general approbation of the +neighbourhood, and the regard which his social powers had<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_257">{257}</a></span> gained him in +the mess. After pausing on this point a considerable while, she once +more continued to read. But, alas! the story which followed, of his +designs on Miss Darcy, received some confirmation from what had passed +between Colonel Fitzwilliam and herself only the morning before; and at +last she was referred for the truth of every particular to Colonel +Fitzwilliam himself—from whom she had previously received the +information of his near concern in all his cousin’s affairs and whose +character she had no reason to question. At one time she had almost +resolved on applying to him, but the idea was checked by the awkwardness +of the application, and at length wholly banished by the conviction that +Mr. Darcy would never have hazarded such a proposal, if he had not been +well assured of his cousin’s corroboration.</p> + +<p>She perfectly remembered everything that had passed in conversation +between Wickham and herself in their first evening at Mr. Philips’s. +Many of his expressions were still fresh in her memory. She was <i>now</i> +struck with the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, and +wondered it had escaped her before. She saw the indelicacy of putting +himself forward as he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions +with his conduct. She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear +of seeing Mr. Darcy—that Mr. Darcy might leave the country, but that +<i>he</i> should stand his ground; yet he had avoided the Netherfield ball +the very next week. She remembered, also, that till the Netherfield +family had quitted the country, he had told his story to no one but +herself; but that after their removal, it had been everywhere discussed; +that he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinking Mr. Darc<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_258">{258}</a></span>y’s +character, though he had assured her that respect for the father would +always prevent his exposing the son.</p> + +<p>How differently did everything now appear in which he was concerned! His +attentions to Miss King were now the consequence of views solely and +hatefully mercenary; and the mediocrity of her fortune proved no longer +the moderation of his wishes, but his eagerness to grasp at anything. +His behaviour to herself could now have had no tolerable motive: he had +either been deceived with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying +his vanity by encouraging the preference which she believed she had most +incautiously shown. Every lingering struggle in his favour grew fainter +and fainter; and in further justification of Mr. Darcy, she could not +but allow that Mr. Bingley, when questioned by Jane, had long ago +asserted his blamelessness in the affair;—that, proud and repulsive as +were his manners, she had never, in the whole course of their +acquaintance—an acquaintance which had latterly brought them much +together, and given her a sort of intimacy with his ways—seen anything +that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust—anything that spoke him +of irreligious or immoral habits;—that among his own connections he was +esteemed and valued;—that even Wickham had allowed him merit as a +brother, and that she had often heard him speak so affectionately of his +sister as to prove him capable of some amiable feeling;—that had his +actions been what Wickham represented them, so gross a violation of +everything right could hardly have been concealed from the world; and +that friendship between a person capable of it and such an amiable man +as Mr. Bingley was incomprehensible.</p> + +<p>She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_259">{259}</a></span> Darcy nor Wickham +could she think, without feeling that she had been blind, partial, +prejudiced, absurd.</p> + +<p>“How despicably have I acted!” she cried. “I, who have prided myself on +my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! who have +often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my +vanity in useless or blameless distrust. How humiliating is this +discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I could not +have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my +folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect +of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted +prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away where either were +concerned. Till this moment, I never knew myself.”</p> + +<p>From herself to Jane, from Jane to Bingley, her thoughts were in a line +which soon brought to her recollection that Mr. Darcy’s explanation +<i>there</i> had appeared very insufficient; and she read it again. Widely +different was the effect of a second perusal. How could she deny that +credit to his assertions, in one instance, which she had been obliged to +give in the other? He declared himself to have been totally unsuspicious +of her sister’s attachment; and she could not help remembering what +Charlotte’s opinion had always been. Neither could she deny the justice +of his description of Jane. She felt that Jane’s feelings, though +fervent, were little displayed, and that there was a constant +complacency in her air and manner, not often united with great +sensibility.</p> + +<p>When she came to that part of the letter in which her family were +mentioned, in tones of such mortifying, yet merited, reproach, her sense +of shame was severe. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_260">{260}</a></span> justice of the charge struck her too forcibly +for denial; and the circumstances to which he particularly alluded, as +having passed at the Netherfield ball, and as confirming all his first +disapprobation, could not have made a stronger impression on his mind +than on hers.</p> + +<p>The compliment to herself and her sister was not unfelt. It soothed, but +it could not console her for the contempt which had been thus +self-attracted by the rest of her family; and as she considered that +Jane’s disappointment had, in fact, been the work of her nearest +relations, and reflected how materially the credit of both must be hurt +by such impropriety of conduct, she felt depressed beyond anything she +had ever known before.</p> + +<p>After wandering along the lane for two hours, giving way to every +variety of thought, reconsidering events, determining probabilities, and +reconciling herself, as well as she could, to a change so sudden and so +important, fatigue, and a recollection of her long absence, made her at +length return home; and she entered the house with the wish of appearing +cheerful as usual, and the resolution of repressing such reflections as +must make her unfit for conversation.</p> + +<p>She was immediately told, that the two gentlemen from Rosings had each +called during her absence; Mr. Darcy, only for a few minutes, to take +leave, but that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been sitting with them at least +an hour, hoping for her return, and almost resolving to walk after her +till she could be found. Elizabeth could but just <i>affect</i> concern in +missing him; she really rejoiced at it. Colonel Fitzwilliam was no +longer an object. She could think only of her letter.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_261">{261}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a><img src="images/i_290_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""><br> +<span class="caption"> +“His parting obeisance.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_290_b.png" +width="100" +alt="T"></span>HE two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning; and Mr. Collins having +been in waiting near the lodges, to make them his parting obeisance, was +able to bring home the pleasing intelligence of their appearing in very +good health, and in as tolerable spirits as could be expected, after the +melancholy scene so lately gone through at Rosings. To Rosings he then +hastened to console Lady Catherine and her daughter; and on his return +brought back, with great satisfaction, a message from her Ladyship, +importing that she felt herself so dull as to make her very desirous of +having them all to dine with her.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_262">{262}</a></span></p> + +<p>Elizabeth could not see Lady Catherine without recollecting that, had +she chosen it, she might by this time have been presented to her as her +future niece; nor could she think, without a smile, of what her +Ladyship’s indignation would have been. “What would she have said? how +would she have behaved?” were the questions with which she amused +herself.</p> + +<p>Their first subject was the diminution of the Rosings’ party. “I assure +you, I feel it exceedingly,” said Lady Catherine; “I believe nobody +feels the loss of friends so much as I do. But I am particularly +attached to these young men; and know them to be so much attached to me! +They were excessively sorry to go! But so they always are. The dear +Colonel rallied his spirits tolerably till just at last; but Darcy +seemed to feel it most acutely—more, I think, than last year. His +attachment to Rosings certainly increases.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Collins had a compliment and an allusion to throw in here, which +were kindly smiled on by the mother and daughter.</p> + +<p>Lady Catherine observed, after dinner, that Miss Bennet seemed out of +spirits; and immediately accounting for it herself, by supposing that +she did not like to go home again so soon, she added,—</p> + +<p>“But if that is the case, you must write to your mother to beg that you +may stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad of your +company, I am sure.”</p> + +<p>“I am much obliged to your Ladyship for your kind invitation,” replied +Elizabeth; “but it is not in my power to accept it. I must be in town +next Saturday.”</p> + +<p>“Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six weeks. I expected +you to stay two months. I told Mrs. Collins so before you came. There +can be no occasion for<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_263">{263}</a></span> your going so soon. Mrs. Bennet could certainly +spare you for another fortnight.”</p> + +<p>“But my father cannot. He wrote last week to hurry my return.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 395px;"> +<img src="images/i_292.jpg" width="395" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<p> +“Dawson”<br> +</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>“Oh, your father, of course, may spare you, if your mother can. +Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father. And if you will +stay another <i>month</i> complete, it will be in my power to take one of you +as far as London, for I am going there early in June,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_264">{264}</a></span> for a week; and +as Dawson does not object to the barouche-box, there will be very good +room for one of you—and, indeed, if the weather should happen to be +cool, I should not object to taking you both, as you are neither of you +large.”</p> + +<p>“You are all kindness, madam; but I believe we must abide by our +original plan.”</p> + +<p>Lady Catherine seemed resigned. “Mrs. Collins, you must send a servant +with them. You know I always speak my mind, and I cannot bear the idea +of two young women travelling post by themselves. It is highly improper. +You must contrive to send somebody. I have the greatest dislike in the +world to that sort of thing. Young women should always be properly +guarded and attended, according to their situation in life. When my +niece Georgiana went to Ramsgate last summer, I made a point of her +having two men-servants go with her. Miss Darcy, the daughter of Mr. +Darcy of Pemberley, and Lady Anne, could not have appeared with +propriety in a different manner. I am excessively attentive to all those +things. You must send John with the young ladies, Mrs. Collins. I am +glad it occurred to me to mention it; for it would really be +discreditable to <i>you</i> to let them go alone.”</p> + +<p>“My uncle is to send a servant for us.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! Your uncle! He keeps a man-servant, does he? I am very glad you +have somebody who thinks of those things. Where shall you change horses? +Oh, Bromley, of course. If you mention my name at the Bell, you will be +attended to.”</p> + +<p>Lady Catherine had many other questions to ask respecting their journey; +and as she did not answer them all herself attention was +necessary—which Elizabeth<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_265">{265}</a></span> believed to be lucky for her; or, with a +mind so occupied, she might have forgotten where she was. Reflection +must be reserved for solitary hours: whenever she was alone, she gave +way to it as the greatest relief; and not a day went by without a +solitary walk, in which she might indulge in all the delight of +unpleasant recollections.</p> + +<p>Mr. Darcy’s letter she was in a fair way of soon knowing by heart. She +studied every sentence; and her feelings towards its writer were at +times widely different. When she remembered the style of his address, +she was still full of indignation: but when she considered how unjustly +she had condemned and upbraided him, her anger was turned against +herself; and his disappointed feelings became the object of compassion. +His attachment excited gratitude, his general character respect: but she +could not approve him; nor could she for a moment repent her refusal, or +feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again. In her own past +behaviour, there was a constant source of vexation and regret: and in +the unhappy defects of her family, a subject of yet heavier chagrin. +They were hopeless of remedy. Her father, contented with laughing at +them, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his +youngest daughters; and her mother, with manners so far from right +herself, was entirely insensible of the evil. Elizabeth had frequently +united with Jane in an endeavour to check the imprudence of Catherine +and Lydia; but while they were supported by their mother’s indulgence, +what chance could there be of improvement? Catherine, weak-spirited, +irritable, and completely under Lydia’s guidance, had been always +affronted by their advice; and Lydia, self-willed and careless, would +scarcely give them a hearing. They were ignorant, idle, and vain.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_266">{266}</a></span> While +there was an officer in Meryton, they would flirt with him; and while +Meryton was within a walk of Longbourn, they would be going there for +ever.</p> + +<p>Anxiety on Jane’s behalf was another prevailing concern; and Mr. Darcy’s +explanation, by restoring Bingley to all her former good opinion, +heightened the sense of what Jane had lost. His affection was proved to +have been sincere, and his conduct cleared of all blame, unless any +could attach to the implicitness of his confidence in his friend. How +grievous then was the thought that, of a situation so desirable in every +respect, so replete with advantage, so promising for happiness, Jane had +been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family!</p> + +<p>When to these recollections was added the development of Wickham’s +character, it may be easily believed that the happy spirits which had +seldom been depressed before were now so much affected as to make it +almost impossible for her to appear tolerably cheerful.</p> + +<p>Their engagements at Rosings were as frequent during the last week of +her stay as they had been at first. The very last evening was spent +there; and her Ladyship again inquired minutely into the particulars of +their journey, gave them directions as to the best method of packing, +and was so urgent on the necessity of placing gowns in the only right +way, that Maria thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all the +work of the morning, and pack her trunk afresh.</p> + +<p>When they parted, Lady Catherine, with great condescension, wished them +a good journey, and invited them to come to Hunsford again next year; +and Miss de Bourgh exerted herself so far as to courtesy and hold out +her hand to both.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_267">{267}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a><img src="images/i_296_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“The elevation of his feelings.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_296_b.png" +width="100" +alt="O"></span>N Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins met for breakfast a few +minutes before the others appeared; and he took the opportunity of +paying the parting civilities which he deemed indispensably necessary.</p> + +<p>“I know not, Miss Elizabeth,” said he, “whether Mrs. Collins has yet +expressed her sense of your kindness in coming to us; but I am very +certain you will not leave the house without receiving her thanks for +it. The favour of your company has been much felt, I assure you. We know +how little there is to tempt anyone to our humble abode. Our plain +manner of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_268">{268}</a></span> living, our small rooms, and few domestics, and the little we +see of the world, must make Hunsford extremely dull to a young lady like +yourself; but I hope you will believe us grateful for the condescension, +and that we have done everything in our power to prevent you spending +your time unpleasantly.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assurances of happiness. She had +spent six weeks with great enjoyment; and the pleasure of being with +Charlotte, and the kind attention she had received, must make <i>her</i> feel +the obliged. Mr. Collins was gratified; and with a more smiling +solemnity replied,—</p> + +<p>“It gives me the greatest pleasure to hear that you have passed your +time not disagreeably. We have certainly done our best; and most +fortunately having it in our power to introduce you to very superior +society, and from our connection with Rosings, the frequent means of +varying the humble home scene, I think we may flatter ourselves that +your Hunsford visit cannot have been entirely irksome. Our situation +with regard to Lady Catherine’s family is, indeed, the sort of +extraordinary advantage and blessing which few can boast. You see on +what a footing we are. You see how continually we are engaged there. In +truth, I must acknowledge, that, with all the disadvantages of this +humble parsonage, I should not think anyone abiding in it an object of +compassion, while they are sharers of our intimacy at Rosings.”</p> + +<p>Words were insufficient for the elevation of his feelings; and he was +obliged to walk about the room, while Elizabeth tried to unite civility +and truth in a few short sentences.</p> + +<p>“You may, in fact, carry a very favourable report of us<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_269">{269}</a></span> into +Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself, at least, that you will +be able to do so. Lady Catherine’s great attentions to Mrs. Collins you +have been a daily witness of; and altogether I trust it does not appear +that your friend has drawn an unfortunate—but on this point it will be +as well to be silent. Only let me assure you, my dear Miss Elizabeth, +that I can from my heart most cordially wish you equal felicity in +marriage. My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of +thinking. There is in everything a most remarkable resemblance of +character and ideas between us. We seem to have been designed for each +other.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth could safely say that it was a great happiness where that was +the case, and with equal sincerity could add, that she firmly believed +and rejoiced in his domestic comforts. She was not sorry, however, to +have the recital of them interrupted by the entrance of the lady from +whom they sprang. Poor Charlotte! it was melancholy to leave her to such +society! But she had chosen it with her eyes open; and though evidently +regretting that her visitors were to go, she did not seem to ask for +compassion. Her home and her housekeeping, her parish and her poultry, +and all their dependent concerns, had not yet lost their charms.</p> + +<p>At length the chaise arrived, the trunks were fastened on, the parcels +placed within, and it was pronounced to be ready. After an affectionate +parting between the friends, Elizabeth was attended to the carriage by +Mr. Collins; and as they walked down the garden, he was commissioning +her with his best respects to all her family, not forgetting his thanks +for the kindness he had received at Longbourn in the winter, and his +compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though unknown. He then handed<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_270">{270}</a></span> +her in, Maria followed, and the door was on the point of being closed, +when he suddenly reminded them, with some consternation, that they had +hitherto forgotten to leave any message for the ladies of Rosings.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/i_299.jpg" width="450" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<p> +“They had forgotten to leave any message”<br> +</p></div> +</div> + +<p>“But,” he added, “you will of course wish to have your humble respects +delivered to them, with your grateful thanks for their kindness to you +while you have been here.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth made no objection: the door was then allowed to be shut, and +the carriage drove off.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_271">{271}</a></span></p> + +<p>“Good gracious!” cried Maria, after a few minutes’ silence, “it seems +but a day or two since we first came! and yet how many things have +happened!”</p> + +<p>“A great many indeed,” said her companion, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>“We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there twice! +How much I shall have to tell!”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth privately added, “And how much I shall have to conceal!”</p> + +<p>Their journey was performed without much conversation, or any alarm; and +within four hours of their leaving Hunsford they reached Mr. Gardiner’s +house, where they were to remain a few days.</p> + +<p>Jane looked well, and Elizabeth had little opportunity of studying her +spirits, amidst the various engagements which the kindness of her aunt +had reserved for them. But Jane was to go home with her, and at +Longbourn there would be leisure enough for observation.</p> + +<p>It was not without an effort, meanwhile, that she could wait even for +Longbourn, before she told her sister of Mr. Darcy’s proposals. To know +that she had the power of revealing what would so exceedingly astonish +Jane, and must, at the same time, so highly gratify whatever of her own +vanity she had not yet been able to reason away, was such a temptation +to openness as nothing could have conquered, but the state of indecision +in which she remained as to the extent of what she should communicate, +and her fear, if she once entered on the subject, of being hurried into +repeating something of Bingley, which might only grieve her sister +further.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_272">{272}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a><img src="images/i_301_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“How nicely we are crammed in.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_301_b.png" +width="100" +alt="I"></span>T was the second week in May, in which the three young ladies set out +together from Gracechurch Street for the town of ——, in Hertfordshire; +and, as they drew near the appointed inn where Mr. Bennet’s carriage was +to meet them, they quickly perceived, in token of the coachman’s +punctuality, both Kitty and Lydia looking out of a dining-room upstairs. +These two girls had been above an hour in the place, happily employed +in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_273">{273}</a></span> visiting an opposite milliner, watching the sentinel on guard, and +dressing a salad and cucumber.</p> + +<p>After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed a table set +out with such cold meat as an inn larder usually affords, exclaiming, +“Is not this nice? is not this an agreeable surprise?”</p> + +<p>“And we mean to treat you all,” added Lydia; “but you must lend us the +money, for we have just spent ours at the shop out there.” Then showing +her purchases,—“Look here, I have bought this bonnet. I do not think it +is very pretty; but I thought I might as well buy it as not. I shall +pull it to pieces as soon as I get home, and see if I can make it up any +better.”</p> + +<p>And when her sisters abused it as ugly, she added, with perfect +unconcern, “Oh, but there were two or three much uglier in the shop; and +when I have bought some prettier-coloured satin to trim it with fresh, I +think it will be very tolerable. Besides, it will not much signify what +one wears this summer, after the ——shire have left Meryton, and they +are going in a fortnight.”</p> + +<p>“Are they, indeed?” cried Elizabeth, with the greatest satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“They are going to be encamped near Brighton; and I do so want papa to +take us all there for the summer! It would be such a delicious scheme, +and I dare say would hardly cost anything at all. Mamma would like to +go, too, of all things! Only think what a miserable summer else we shall +have!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” thought Elizabeth; “<i>that</i> would be a delightful scheme, indeed, +and completely do for us at once. Good Heaven! Brighton and a whole +campful of soldiers, to us, who have been overset already by one poor +regiment of militia, and the monthly balls of Meryton!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_274">{274}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Now I have got some news for you,” said Lydia, as they sat down to +table. “What do you think? It is excellent news, capital news, and about +a certain person that we all like.”</p> + +<p>Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, and the waiter was told that he +need not stay. Lydia laughed, and said,—</p> + +<p>“Ay, that is just like your formality and discretion. You thought the +waiter must not hear, as if he cared! I dare say he often hears worse +things said than I am going to say. But he is an ugly fellow! I am glad +he is gone. I never saw such a long chin in my life. Well, but now for +my news: it is about dear Wickham; too good for the waiter, is not it? +There is no danger of Wickham’s marrying Mary King—there’s for you! She +is gone down to her uncle at Liverpool; gone to stay. Wickham is safe.”</p> + +<p>“And Mary King is safe!” added Elizabeth; “safe from a connection +imprudent as to fortune.”</p> + +<p>“She is a great fool for going away, if she liked him.”</p> + +<p>“But I hope there is no strong attachment on either side,” said Jane.</p> + +<p>“I am sure there is not on <i>his</i>. I will answer for it, he never cared +three straws about her. Who <i>could</i> about such a nasty little freckled +thing?”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was shocked to think that, however incapable of such +coarseness of <i>expression</i> herself, the coarseness of the <i>sentiment</i> +was little other than her own breast had formerly harboured and fancied +liberal!</p> + +<p>As soon as all had ate, and the elder ones paid, the carriage was +ordered; and, after some contrivance, the whole party, with all their +boxes, workbags, and parcels, and the unwelcome addition of Kitty’s and +Lydia’s purchases, were seated in it.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_275">{275}</a></span></p> + +<p>“How nicely we are crammed in!” cried Lydia. “I am glad I brought my +bonnet, if it is only for the fun of having another band-box! Well, now +let us be quite comfortable and snug, and talk and laugh all the way +home. And in the first place, let us hear what has happened to you all +since you went away. Have you seen any pleasant men? Have you had any +flirting? I was in great hopes that one of you would have got a husband +before you came back. Jane will be quite an old maid soon, I declare. +She is almost three-and-twenty! Lord! how ashamed I should be of not +being married before three-and-twenty! My aunt Philips wants you so to +get husbands you can’t think. She says Lizzy had better have taken Mr. +Collins; but <i>I</i> do not think there would have been any fun in it. Lord! +how I should like to be married before any of you! and then I would +<i>chaperon</i> you about to all the balls. Dear me! we had such a good piece +of fun the other day at Colonel Forster’s! Kitty and me were to spend +the day there, and Mrs. Forster promised to have a little dance in the +evening; (by-the-bye, Mrs. Forster and me are <i>such</i> friends!) and so +she asked the two Harringtons to come: but Harriet was ill, and so Pen +was forced to come by herself; and then, what do you think we did? We +dressed up Chamberlayne in woman’s clothes, on purpose to pass for a +lady,—only think what fun! Not a soul knew of it, but Colonel and Mrs. +Forster, and Kitty and me, except my aunt, for we were forced to borrow +one of her gowns; and you cannot imagine how well he looked! When Denny, +and Wickham, and Pratt, and two or three more of the men came in, they +did not know him in the least. Lord! how I laughed! and so did Mrs. +Forster. I thought I should have died. And <i>that</i> made the men<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_276">{276}</a></span> suspect +something, and then they soon found out what was the matter.”</p> + +<p>With such kind of histories of their parties and good jokes did Lydia, +assisted by Kitty’s hints and additions, endeavour to amuse her +companions all the way to Longbourn. Elizabeth listened as little as she +could, but there was no escaping the frequent mention of Wickham’s name.</p> + +<p>Their reception at home was most kind. Mrs. Bennet rejoiced to see Jane +in undiminished beauty; and more than once during dinner did Mr. Bennet +say voluntarily to Elizabeth,——</p> + +<p>“I am glad you are come back, Lizzy.”</p> + +<p>Their party in the dining-room was large, for almost all the Lucases +came to meet Maria and hear the news; and various were the subjects +which occupied them: Lady Lucas was inquiring of Maria, across the +table, after the welfare and poultry of her eldest daughter; Mrs. Bennet +was doubly engaged, on one hand collecting an account of the present +fashions from Jane, who sat some way below her, and on the other, +retailing them all to the younger Miss Lucases; and Lydia, in a voice +rather louder than any other person’s, was enumerating the various +pleasures of the morning to anybody who would hear her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mary,” said she, “I wish you had gone with us, for we had such fun! +as we went along Kitty and me drew up all the blinds, and pretended +there was nobody in the coach; and I should have gone so all the way, if +Kitty had not been sick; and when we got to the George, I do think we +behaved very handsomely, for we treated the other three with the nicest +cold luncheon in the world, and if you would have gone, we would have +treated you<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_277">{277}</a></span> too. And then when we came away it was such fun! I thought +we never should have got into the coach. I was ready to die of laughter. +And then we were so merry all the way home! we talked and laughed so +loud, that anybody might have heard us ten miles off!”</p> + +<p>To this, Mary very gravely replied, “Far be it from me, my dear sister, +to depreciate such pleasures. They would doubtless be congenial with the +generality of female minds. But I confess they would have no charms for +<i>me</i>. I should infinitely prefer a book.”</p> + +<p>But of this answer Lydia heard not a word. She seldom listened to +anybody for more than half a minute, and never attended to Mary at all.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon Lydia was urgent with the rest of the girls to walk to +Meryton, and see how everybody went on; but Elizabeth steadily opposed +the scheme. It should not be said, that the Miss Bennets could not be at +home half a day before they were in pursuit of the officers. There was +another reason, too, for her opposition. She dreaded seeing Wickham +again, and was resolved to avoid it as long as possible. The comfort to +<i>her</i>, of the regiment’s approaching removal, was indeed beyond +expression. In a fortnight they were to go, and once gone, she hoped +there could be nothing more to plague her on his account.</p> + +<p>She had not been many hours at home, before she found that the Brighton +scheme, of which Lydia had given them a hint at the inn, was under +frequent discussion between her parents. Elizabeth saw directly that her +father had not the smallest intention of yielding; but his answers were +at the same time so vague and equivocal, that her mother, though often +disheartened, had never yet despaired of succeeding at last.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_278">{278}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XL"></a><img src="images/i_307_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XL.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_307_b.png" +width="100" +alt="E"></span>LIZABETH’S impatience to acquaint Jane with what had happened could no +longer be overcome; and at length resolving to suppress every particular +in which her sister was concerned, and preparing her to be surprised, +she related to her the next morning the chief of the scene between Mr. +Darcy and herself.</p> + +<p>Miss Bennet’s astonishment was soon lessened by the strong sisterly +partiality which made any admiration of Elizabeth appear perfectly +natural; and all surprise was shortly lost in other feelings. She was +sorry that Mr. Darcy should have delivered his sentiments in a manner so +little suited to recommend them; but still more was she grieved for the +unhappiness which her sister’s refusal must have given him.</p> + +<p>“His being so sure of succeeding was wrong,” said she, “and certainly +ought not to have appeared; but consider how much it must increase his +disappointment.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_279">{279}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Indeed,” replied Elizabeth, “I am heartily sorry for him; but he has +other feelings which will probably soon drive away his regard for me. +You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?”</p> + +<p>“Blame you! Oh, no.”</p> + +<p>“But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of Wickham?”</p> + +<p>“No—I do not know that you were wrong in saying what you did.”</p> + +<p>“But you <i>will</i> know it, when I have told you what happened the very +next day.”</p> + +<p>She then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its contents as far +as they concerned George Wickham. What a stroke was this for poor Jane, +who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that +so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind as was here +collected in one individual! Nor was Darcy’s vindication, though +grateful to her feelings, capable of consoling her for such discovery. +Most earnestly did she labour to prove the probability of error, and +seek to clear one, without involving the other.</p> + +<p>“This will not do,” said Elizabeth; “you never will be able to make both +of them good for anything. Take your choice, but you must be satisfied +with only one. There is but such a quantity of merit between them; just +enough to make one good sort of man; and of late it has been shifting +about pretty much. For my part, I am inclined to believe it all Mr. +Darcy’s, but you shall do as you choose.”</p> + +<p>It was some time, however, before a smile could be extorted from Jane.</p> + +<p>“I do not know when I have been more shocked,” said she. “Wickham so +very bad! It is almost past belief.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_280">{280}</a></span> And poor Mr. Darcy! dear Lizzy, +only consider what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! and +with the knowledge of your ill opinion too! and having to relate such a +thing of his sister! It is really too distressing, I am sure you must +feel it so.”</p> + +<p>“Oh no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing you so full +of both. I know you will do him such ample justice, that I am growing +every moment more unconcerned and indifferent. Your profusion makes me +saving; and if you lament over him much longer, my heart will be as +light as a feather.”</p> + +<p>“Poor Wickham! there is such an expression of goodness in his +countenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner.”</p> + +<p>“There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those +two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the +appearance of it.”</p> + +<p>“I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the <i>appearance</i> of it as you +used to do.”</p> + +<p>“And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike +to him, without any reason. It is such a spur to one’s genius, such an +opening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind. One may be continually +abusive without saying anything just; but one cannot be always laughing +at a man without now and then stumbling on something witty.”</p> + +<p>“Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am sure you could not treat +the matter as you do now.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, I could not. I was uncomfortable enough, I was very +uncomfortable—I may say unhappy. And with no one to speak to of what I +felt, no Jane to comfort me, and say that I had not been so very weak, +and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_281">{281}</a></span> vain, and nonsensical, as I knew I had! Oh, how I wanted you!”</p> + +<p>“How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong expressions +in speaking of Wickham to Mr. Darcy, for now they <i>do</i> appear wholly +undeserved.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness is a most +natural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging. There is +one point on which I want your advice. I want to be told whether I +ought, or ought not, to make our acquaintance in general understand +Wickham’s character.”</p> + +<p>Miss Bennet paused a little, and then replied, “Surely there can be no +occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. What is your own opinion?”</p> + +<p>“That it ought not to be attempted. Mr. Darcy has not authorized me to +make his communication public. On the contrary, every particular +relative to his sister was meant to be kept as much as possible to +myself; and if I endeavour to undeceive people as to the rest of his +conduct, who will believe me? The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is +so violent, that it would be the death of half the good people in +Meryton, to attempt to place him in an amiable light. I am not equal to +it. Wickham will soon be gone; and, therefore, it will not signify to +anybody here what he really is. Some time hence it will be all found +out, and then we may laugh at their stupidity in not knowing it before. +At present I will say nothing about it.”</p> + +<p>“You are quite right. To have his errors made public might ruin him for +ever. He is now, perhaps, sorry for what he has done, and anxious to +re-establish a character. We must not make him desperate.”</p> + +<p>The tumult of Elizabeth’s mind was allayed by this<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_282">{282}</a></span> conversation. She +had got rid of two of the secrets which had weighed on her for a +fortnight, and was certain of a willing listener in Jane, whenever she +might wish to talk again of either. But there was still something +lurking behind, of which prudence forbade the disclosure. She dared not +relate the other half of Mr. Darcy’s letter, nor explain to her sister +how sincerely she had been valued by his friend. Here was knowledge in +which no one could partake; and she was sensible that nothing less than +a perfect understanding between the parties could justify her in +throwing off this last encumbrance of mystery. “And then,” said she, “if +that very improbable event should ever take place, I shall merely be +able to tell what Bingley may tell in a much more agreeable manner +himself. The liberty of communication cannot be mine till it has lost +all its value!”</p> + +<p>She was now, on being settled at home, at leisure to observe the real +state of her sister’s spirits. Jane was not happy. She still cherished a +very tender affection for Bingley. Having never even fancied herself in +love before, her regard had all the warmth of first attachment, and from +her age and disposition, greater steadiness than first attachments often +boast; and so fervently did she value his remembrance, and prefer him to +every other man, that all her good sense, and all her attention to the +feelings of her friends, were requisite to check the indulgence of those +regrets which must have been injurious to her own health and their +tranquillity.</p> + +<p>“Well, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet, one day, “what is your opinion <i>now</i> of +this sad business of Jane’s? For my part, I am determined never to speak +of it again to anybody. I told my sister Philips so the other day. But I +cannot find out that Jane saw anything of him in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_283">{283}</a></span> London. Well, he is a +very undeserving young man—and I do not suppose there is the least +chance in the world of her ever getting him now. There is no talk of his +coming to Netherfield again in the summer; and I have inquired of +everybody, too, who is likely to know.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 351px;"> +<img src="images/i_312.jpg" width="351" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“I am determined never to speak of it again”</p></div> +</div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_284">{284}</a></span></p> + +<p>“I do not believe that he will ever live at Netherfield any more.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, well! it is just as he chooses. Nobody wants him to come; though I +shall always say that he used my daughter extremely ill; and, if I was +her, I would not have put up with it. Well, my comfort is, I am sure +Jane will die of a broken heart, and then he will be sorry for what he +has done.”</p> + +<p>But as Elizabeth could not receive comfort from any such expectation she +made no answer.</p> + +<p>“Well, Lizzy,” continued her mother, soon afterwards, “and so the +Collinses live very comfortable, do they? Well, well, I only hope it +will last. And what sort of table do they keep? Charlotte is an +excellent manager, I dare say. If she is half as sharp as her mother, +she is saving enough. There is nothing extravagant in <i>their</i> +housekeeping, I dare say.”</p> + +<p>“No, nothing at all.”</p> + +<p>“A great deal of good management, depend upon it. Yes, yes. <i>They</i> will +take care not to outrun their income. <i>They</i> will never be distressed +for money. Well, much good may it do them! And so, I suppose, they often +talk of having Longbourn when your father is dead. They look upon it +quite as their own, I dare say, whenever that happens.”</p> + +<p>“It was a subject which they could not mention before me.”</p> + +<p>“No; it would have been strange if they had. But I make no doubt they +often talk of it between themselves. Well, if they can be easy with an +estate that is not lawfully their own, so much the better. <i>I</i> should be +ashamed of having one that was only entailed on me.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_285">{285}</a></span>”</p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a><img src="images/i_314_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“When Colonel Miller’s regiment went.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XLI.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_314_b.png" +width="100" +alt="T"></span>HE first week of their return was soon gone. The second began. It was +the last of the regiment’s stay in Meryton, and all the young ladies in +the neighbourhood were drooping apace. The dejection was almost +universal. The elder Miss Bennets alone were still able to eat, drink, +and sleep, and pursue the usual course of their employments. Very +frequently were they reproached for this insensibility by Kitty and +Lydia,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_286">{286}</a></span> whose own misery was extreme, and who could not comprehend such +hard-heartedness in any of the family.</p> + +<p>“Good Heaven! What is to become of us? What are we to do?” would they +often exclaim in the bitterness of woe. “How can you be smiling so, +Lizzy?”</p> + +<p>Their affectionate mother shared all their grief; she remembered what +she had herself endured on a similar occasion five-and-twenty years ago.</p> + +<p>“I am sure,” said she, “I cried for two days together when Colonel +Miller’s regiment went away. I thought I should have broke my heart.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure I shall break <i>mine</i>,” said Lydia.</p> + +<p>“If one could but go to Brighton!” observed Mrs. Bennet.</p> + +<p>“Oh yes!—if one could but go to Brighton! But papa is so disagreeable.”</p> + +<p>“A little sea-bathing would set me up for ever.”</p> + +<p>“And my aunt Philips is sure it would do <i>me</i> a great deal of good,” +added Kitty.</p> + +<p>Such were the kind of lamentations resounding perpetually through +Longbourn House. Elizabeth tried to be diverted by them; but all sense +of pleasure was lost in shame. She felt anew the justice of Mr. Darcy’s +objections; and never had she before been so much disposed to pardon his +interference in the views of his friend.</p> + +<p>But the gloom of Lydia’s prospect was shortly cleared away; for she +received an invitation from Mrs. Forster, the wife of the colonel of the +regiment, to accompany her to Brighton. This invaluable friend was a +very young woman, and very lately married. A resemblance in good-humour +and good spirits had recommended her and Lydia to each other, and out of +their <i>three</i> months’ acquaintance they had been intimate <i>two</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_287">{287}</a></span></p> + +<p>The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adoration of Mrs. Forster, +the delight of Mrs. Bennet, and the mortification of Kitty, are scarcely +to be described. Wholly inattentive to her sister’s feelings, Lydia flew +about the house in restless ecstasy, calling for everyone’s +congratulations, and laughing and talking with more violence than ever; +whilst the luckless Kitty continued in the parlour repining at her fate +in terms as unreasonable as her accent was peevish.</p> + +<p>“I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask <i>me</i> as well as Lydia,” +said she, “though I am <i>not</i> her particular friend. I have just as much +right to be asked as she has, and more too, for I am two years older.”</p> + +<p>In vain did Elizabeth attempt to make her reasonable, and Jane to make +her resigned. As for Elizabeth herself, this invitation was so far from +exciting in her the same feelings as in her mother and Lydia, that she +considered it as the death-warrant of all possibility of common sense +for the latter; and detestable as such a step must make her, were it +known, she could not help secretly advising her father not to let her +go. She represented to him all the improprieties of Lydia’s general +behaviour, the little advantage she could derive from the friendship of +such a woman as Mrs. Forster, and the probability of her being yet more +imprudent with such a companion at Brighton, where the temptations must +be greater than at home. He heard her attentively, and then said,—</p> + +<p>“Lydia will never be easy till she has exposed herself in some public +place or other, and we can never expect her to do it with so little +expense or inconvenience to her family as under the present +circumstances.”</p> + +<p>“If you were aware,” said Elizabeth, “of the very great<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_288">{288}</a></span> disadvantage to +us all, which must arise from the public notice of Lydia’s unguarded and +imprudent manner, nay, which has already arisen from it, I am sure you +would judge differently in the affair.”</p> + +<p>“Already arisen!” repeated Mr. Bennet. “What! has she frightened away +some of your lovers? Poor little Lizzy! But do not be cast down. Such +squeamish youths as cannot bear to be connected with a little absurdity +are not worth a regret. Come, let me see the list of the pitiful fellows +who have been kept aloof by Lydia’s folly.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, you are mistaken. I have no such injuries to resent. It is not +of peculiar, but of general evils, which I am now complaining. Our +importance, our respectability in the world, must be affected by the +wild volatility, the assurance and disdain of all restraint which mark +Lydia’s character. Excuse me,—for I must speak plainly. If you, my dear +father, will not take the trouble of checking her exuberant spirits, and +of teaching her that her present pursuits are not to be the business of +her life, she will soon be beyond the reach of amendment. Her character +will be fixed; and she will, at sixteen, be the most determined flirt +that ever made herself and her family ridiculous;—a flirt, too, in the +worst and meanest degree of flirtation; without any attraction beyond +youth and a tolerable person; and, from the ignorance and emptiness of +her mind, wholly unable to ward off any portion of that universal +contempt which her rage for admiration will excite. In this danger Kitty +is also comprehended. She will follow wherever Lydia leads. Vain, +ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled! Oh, my dear father, can you +suppose it possible that they will not be censured and despised wherever +they are known, and that their sisters will not be often involved in the +disgrace?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_289">{289}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the subject; and, +affectionately taking her hand, said, in reply,—</p> + +<p>“Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane are known, +you must be respected and valued; and you will not appear to less +advantage for having a couple of—or I may say, three—very silly +sisters. We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go to +Brighton. Let her go, then. Colonel Forster is a sensible man, and will +keep her out of any real mischief; and she is luckily too poor to be an +object of prey to anybody. At Brighton she will be of less importance +even as a common flirt than she has been here. The officers will find +women better worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that her being +there may teach her her own insignificance. At any rate, she cannot grow +many degrees worse, without authorizing us to lock her up for the rest +of her life.”</p> + +<p>With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be content; but her own opinion +continued the same, and she left him disappointed and sorry. It was not +in her nature, however, to increase her vexations by dwelling on them. +She was confident of having performed her duty; and to fret over +unavoidable evils, or augment them by anxiety, was no part of her +disposition.</p> + +<p>Had Lydia and her mother known the substance of her conference with her +father, their indignation would hardly have found expression in their +united volubility. In Lydia’s imagination, a visit to Brighton comprised +every possibility of earthly happiness. She saw, with the creative eye +of fancy, the streets of that gay bathing-place covered with officers. +She saw herself the object of attention to tens and to scores of them at +present unknown. She saw all the glories of the camp: its<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_290">{290}</a></span> tents +stretched forth in beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded with the young +and the gay, and dazzling with scarlet; and, to complete the view, she +saw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly flirting with at least six +officers at once.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i_319.jpg" width="550" height="472" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<p> +“Tenderly flirting”<br> +</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>Had she known that her sister sought to tear her from such prospects and +such realities as these, what would have been her sensations? They could +have been understood only by her mother, who might have felt nearly the +same. Lydia’s going to Brighton was all that consoled her for the +melancholy conviction of her husband’s never intending to go there +himself.</p> + +<p>But they were entirely ignorant of what had passed;<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_291">{291}</a></span> and their raptures +continued, with little intermission, to the very day of Lydia’s leaving +home.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was now to see Mr. Wickham for the last time. Having been +frequently in company with him since her return, agitation was pretty +well over; the agitations of former partiality entirely so. She had even +learnt to detect, in the very gentleness which had first delighted her, +an affectation and a sameness to disgust and weary. In his present +behaviour to herself, moreover, she had a fresh source of displeasure; +for the inclination he soon testified of renewing those attentions which +had marked the early part of their acquaintance could only serve, after +what had since passed, to provoke her. She lost all concern for him in +finding herself thus selected as the object of such idle and frivolous +gallantry; and while she steadily repressed it, could not but feel the +reproof contained in his believing, that however long, and for whatever +cause, his attentions had been withdrawn, her vanity would be gratified, +and her preference secured, at any time, by their renewal.</p> + +<p>On the very last day of the regiment’s remaining in Meryton, he dined, +with others of the officers, at Longbourn; and so little was Elizabeth +disposed to part from him in good-humour, that, on his making some +inquiry as to the manner in which her time had passed at Hunsford, she +mentioned Colonel Fitzwilliam’s and Mr. Darcy’s having both spent three +weeks at Rosings, and asked him if he were acquainted with the former.</p> + +<p>He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed; but, with a moment’s +recollection, and a returning smile, replied, that he had formerly seen +him often; and, after observing that he was a very gentlemanlike man, +asked her how she had liked him. Her answer was warmly in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_292">{292}</a></span> his favour. +With an air of indifference, he soon afterwards added, “How long did you +say that he was at Rosings?”</p> + +<p>“Nearly three weeks.”</p> + +<p>“And you saw him frequently?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, almost every day.”</p> + +<p>“His manners are very different from his cousin’s.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, very different; but I think Mr. Darcy improves on acquaintance.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” cried Wickham, with a look which did not escape her. “And pray +may I ask—” but checking himself, he added, in a gayer tone, “Is it in +address that he improves? Has he deigned to add aught of civility to his +ordinary style? for I dare not hope,” he continued, in a lower and more +serious tone, “that he is improved in essentials.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no!” said Elizabeth. “In essentials, I believe, he is very much +what he ever was.”</p> + +<p>While she spoke, Wickham looked as if scarcely knowing whether to +rejoice over her words or to distrust their meaning. There was a +something in her countenance which made him listen with an apprehensive +and anxious attention, while she added,—</p> + +<p>“When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean that +either his mind or manners were in a state of improvement; but that, +from knowing him better, his disposition was better understood.”</p> + +<p>Wickham’s alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and agitated +look; for a few minutes he was silent; till, shaking off his +embarrassment, he turned to her again, and said in the gentlest of +accents,—</p> + +<p>“You, who so well know my feelings towards Mr. Darcy, will readily +comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assume +even the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_293">{293}</a></span> <i>appearance</i> of what is right. His pride, in that direction, +may be of service, if not to himself, to many others, for it must deter +him from such foul misconduct as I have suffered by. I only fear that +the sort of cautiousness to which you, I imagine, have been alluding, is +merely adopted on his visits to his aunt, of whose good opinion and +judgment he stands much in awe. His fear of her has always operated, I +know, when they were together; and a good deal is to be imputed to his +wish of forwarding the match with Miss de Bourgh, which I am certain he +has very much at heart.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth could not repress a smile at this, but she answered only by a +slight inclination of the head. She saw that he wanted to engage her on +the old subject of his grievances, and she was in no humour to indulge +him. The rest of the evening passed with the <i>appearance</i>, on his side, +of usual cheerfulness, but with no further attempt to distinguish +Elizabeth; and they parted at last with mutual civility, and possibly a +mutual desire of never meeting again.</p> + +<p>When the party broke up, Lydia returned with Mrs. Forster to Meryton, +from whence they were to set out early the next morning. The separation +between her and her family was rather noisy than pathetic. Kitty was the +only one who shed tears; but she did weep from vexation and envy. Mrs. +Bennet was diffuse in her good wishes for the felicity of her daughter, +and impressive in her injunctions that she would not miss the +opportunity of enjoying herself as much as possible,—advice which there +was every reason to believe would be attended to; and, in the clamorous +happiness of Lydia herself in bidding farewell, the more gentle adieus +of her sisters were uttered without being heard.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_294">{294}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a><img src="images/i_323_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“The arrival of the Gardiners.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XLII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_323_b.png" +width="100" +alt="H"></span>AD Elizabeth’s opinion been all drawn from her own family, she could +not have formed a very pleasing picture of conjugal felicity or domestic +comfort. Her father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance +of good-humour which youth and beauty generally give, had married a +woman whose weak understanding and illiberal mind had very early in +their marriage put an end to all real affection for her.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_295">{295}</a></span> Respect, +esteem, and confidence had vanished for ever; and all his views of +domestic happiness were overthrown. But Mr. Bennet was not of a +disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment which his own +imprudence had brought on in any of those pleasures which too often +console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice. He was fond of +the country and of books; and from these tastes had arisen his principal +enjoyments. To his wife he was very little otherwise indebted than as +her ignorance and folly had contributed to his amusement. This is not +the sort of happiness which a man would in general wish to owe to his +wife; but where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true +philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of her +father’s behaviour as a husband. She had always seen it with pain; but +respecting his abilities, and grateful for his affectionate treatment of +herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook, and to +banish from her thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation +and decorum which, in exposing his wife to the contempt of her own +children, was so highly reprehensible. But she had never felt so +strongly as now the disadvantages which must attend the children of so +unsuitable a marriage, nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising +from so ill-judged a direction of talents—talents which, rightly used, +might at least have preserved the respectability of his daughters, even +if incapable of enlarging the mind of his wife.</p> + +<p>When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham’s departure, she found little +other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the regiment. Their parties +abroad were less varied than before; and at home she had a mother and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_296">{296}</a></span> +sister, whose constant repinings at the dulness of everything around +them threw a real gloom over their domestic circle; and, though Kitty +might in time regain her natural degree of sense, since the disturbers +of her brain were removed, her other sister, from whose disposition +greater evil might be apprehended, was likely to be hardened in all her +folly and assurance, by a situation of such double danger as a +watering-place and a camp. Upon the whole, therefore, she found, what +has been sometimes found before, that an event to which she had looked +forward with impatient desire, did not, in taking place, bring all the +satisfaction she had promised herself. It was consequently necessary to +name some other period for the commencement of actual felicity; to have +some other point on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and by +again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the +present, and prepare for another disappointment. Her tour to the Lakes +was now the object of her happiest thoughts: it was her best consolation +for all the uncomfortable hours which the discontentedness of her mother +and Kitty made inevitable; and could she have included Jane in the +scheme, every part of it would have been perfect.</p> + +<p>“But it is fortunate,” thought she, “that I have something to wish for. +Were the whole arrangement complete, my disappointment would be certain. +But here, by carrying with me one ceaseless source of regret in my +sister’s absence, I may reasonably hope to have all my expectations of +pleasure realized. A scheme of which every part promises delight can +never be successful; and general disappointment is only warded off by +the defence of some little peculiar vexation.”</p> + +<p>When Lydia went away she promised to write very<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_297">{297}</a></span> often and very minutely +to her mother and Kitty; but her letters were always long expected, and +always very short. Those to her mother contained little else than that +they were just returned from the library, where such and such officers +had attended them, and where she had seen such beautiful ornaments as +made her quite wild; that she had a new gown, or a new parasol, which +she would have described more fully, but was obliged to leave off in a +violent hurry, as Mrs. Forster called her, and they were going to the +camp; and from her correspondence with her sister there was still less +to be learnt, for her letters to Kitty, though rather longer, were much +too full of lines under the words to be made public.</p> + +<p>After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, health, +good-humour, and cheerfulness began to reappear at Longbourn. Everything +wore a happier aspect. The families who had been in town for the winter +came back again, and summer finery and summer engagements arose. Mrs. +Bennet was restored to her usual querulous serenity; and by the middle +of June Kitty was so much recovered as to be able to enter Meryton +without tears,—an event of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth +hope, that by the following Christmas she might be so tolerably +reasonable as not to mention an officer above once a day, unless, by +some cruel and malicious arrangement at the War Office, another regiment +should be quartered in Meryton.</p> + +<p>The time fixed for the beginning of their northern tour was now fast +approaching; and a fortnight only was wanting of it, when a letter +arrived from Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed its commencement and +curtailed its extent. Mr. Gardiner would be prevented by business from +setting out till a fortnight later in July,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_298">{298}</a></span> and must be in London again +within a month; and as that left too short a period for them to go so +far, and see so much as they had proposed, or at least to see it with +the leisure and comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give up +the Lakes, and substitute a more contracted tour; and, according to the +present plan, were to go no farther northward than Derbyshire. In that +county there was enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their three +weeks; and to Mrs. Gardiner it had a peculiarly strong attraction. The +town where she had formerly passed some years of her life, and where +they were now to spend a few days, was probably as great an object of +her curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth, +Dovedale, or the Peak.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was excessively disappointed: she had set her heart on seeing +the Lakes; and still thought there might have been time enough. But it +was her business to be satisfied—and certainly her temper to be happy; +and all was soon right again.</p> + +<p>With the mention of Derbyshire, there were many ideas connected. It was +impossible for her to see the word without thinking of Pemberley and its +owner. “But surely,” said she, “I may enter his county with impunity, +and rob it of a few petrified spars, without his perceiving me.”</p> + +<p>The period of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks were to pass away +before her uncle and aunt’s arrival. But they did pass away, and Mr. and +Mrs. Gardiner, with their four children, did at length appear at +Longbourn. The children, two girls of six and eight years old, and two +younger boys, were to be left under the particular care of their cousin +Jane, who was the general favourite, and whose steady sense and +sweetness<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_299">{299}</a></span> of temper exactly adapted her for attending to them in every +way—teaching them, playing with them, and loving them.</p> + +<p>The Gardiners stayed only one night at Longbourn, and set off the next +morning with Elizabeth in pursuit of novelty and amusement. One +enjoyment was certain—that of suitableness as companions; a +suitableness which comprehended health and temper to bear +inconveniences—cheerfulness to enhance every pleasure—and affection +and intelligence, which might supply it among themselves if there were +disappointments abroad.</p> + +<p>It is not the object of this work to give a description of Derbyshire, +nor of any of the remarkable places through which their route thither +lay—Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth, Birmingham, etc., are +sufficiently known. A small part of Derbyshire is all the present +concern. To the little town of Lambton, the scene of Mrs. Gardiner’s +former residence, and where she had lately learned that some +acquaintance still remained, they bent their steps, after having seen +all the principal wonders of the country; and within five miles of +Lambton, Elizabeth found, from her aunt, that Pemberley was situated. It +was not in their direct road; nor more than a mile or two out of it. In +talking over their route the evening before, Mrs. Gardiner expressed an +inclination to see the place again. Mr. Gardiner declared his +willingness, and Elizabeth was applied to for her approbation.</p> + +<p>“My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have heard so +much?” said her aunt. “A place, too, with which so many of your +acquaintance are connected. Wickham passed all his youth there, you +know.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_300">{300}</a></span> business at +Pemberley, and was obliged to assume a disinclination for seeing it. She +must own that she was tired of great houses: after going over so many, +she really had no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gardiner abused her stupidity. “If it were merely a fine house +richly furnished,” said she, “I should not care about it myself; but the +grounds are delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the +country.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth said no more; but her mind could not acquiesce. The +possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy, while viewing the place, instantly +occurred. It would be dreadful! She blushed at the very idea; and +thought it would be better to speak openly to her aunt, than to run such +a risk. But against this there were objections; and she finally resolved +that it could be the last resource, if her private inquiries as to the +absence of the family were unfavourably answered.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, when she retired at night, she asked the chambermaid +whether Pemberley were not a very fine place, what was the name of its +proprietor, and, with no little alarm, whether the family were down for +the summer? A most welcome negative followed the last question; and her +alarms being now removed, she was at leisure to feel a great deal of +curiosity to see the house herself; and when the subject was revived the +next morning, and she was again applied to, could readily answer, and +with a proper air of indifference, that she had not really any dislike +to the scheme.</p> + +<p>To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_301">{301}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a><img src="images/i_330_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“Conjecturing as to the date.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XLIII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_330_b.png" +width="100" +alt="E"></span>LIZABETH, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance of +Pemberley Woods with some perturbation; and when at length they turned +in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter.</p> + +<p>The park was very large, and contained great variety of ground. They +entered it in one of its lowest points, and drove for some time through +a beautiful wood stretching over a wide extent.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired +every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for +half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable +eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by +Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of the valley, into which +the road with<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_302">{302}</a></span> some abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome stone +building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high +woody hills; and in front a stream of some natural importance was +swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks +were neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She +had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural +beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were +all of them warm in their admiration; and at that moment she felt that +to be mistress of Pemberley might be something!</p> + +<p>They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door; and, +while examining the nearer aspect of the house, all her apprehension of +meeting its owner returned. She dreaded lest the chambermaid had been +mistaken. On applying to see the place, they were admitted into the +hall; and Elizabeth, as they waited for the housekeeper, had leisure to +wonder at her being where she was.</p> + +<p>The housekeeper came; a respectable looking elderly woman, much less +fine, and more civil, than she had any notion of finding her. They +followed her into the dining-parlour. It was a large, well-proportioned +room, handsomely fitted up. Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, went +to a window to enjoy its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, from +which they had descended, receiving increased abruptness from the +distance, was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was +good; and she looked on the whole scene, the river, the trees scattered +on its banks, and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace +it, with delight. As they passed into other rooms, these objects were +taking different positions; but<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_303">{303}</a></span> from every window there were beauties +to be seen. The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture +suitable to the fortune of their proprietor; but Elizabeth saw, with +admiration of his taste, that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly +fine,—with less of splendour, and more real elegance, than the +furniture of Rosings.</p> + +<p>“And of this place,” thought she, “I might have been mistress! With +these rooms I might have now been familiarly acquainted! Instead of +viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced in them as my own, and +welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and aunt. But, no,” recollecting +herself, “that could never be; my uncle and aunt would have been lost to +me; I should not have been allowed to invite them.”</p> + +<p>This was a lucky recollection—it saved her from something like regret.</p> + +<p>She longed to inquire of the housekeeper whether her master were really +absent, but had not courage for it. At length, however, the question was +asked by her uncle; and she turned away with alarm, while Mrs. Reynolds +replied, that he was; adding, “But we expect him to-morrow, with a large +party of friends.” How rejoiced was Elizabeth that their own journey had +not by any circumstance been delayed a day!</p> + +<p>Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She approached, and saw +the likeness of Mr. Wickham, suspended, amongst several other +miniatures, over the mantel-piece. Her aunt asked her, smilingly, how +she liked it. The housekeeper came forward, and told them it was the +picture of a young gentleman, the son of her late master’s steward, who +had been brought up by him at his own expense. “He is now gone into the +army,” she added; “but I am afraid he has turned out very wild.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_304">{304}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizabeth could not +return it.</p> + +<p>“And that,” said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another of the miniatures, +“is my master—and very like him. It was drawn at the same time as the +other—about eight years ago.”</p> + +<p>“I have heard much of your master’s fine person,” said Mrs. Gardiner, +looking at the picture; “it is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell +us whether it is like or not.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Reynolds’ respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this +intimation of her knowing her master.</p> + +<p>“Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth coloured, and said, “A little.”</p> + +<p>“And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma’am?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, very handsome.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure <i>I</i> know none so handsome; but in the gallery upstairs you +will see a finer, larger picture of him than this. This room was my late +master’s favourite room, and these miniatures are just as they used to +be then. He was very fond of them.”</p> + +<p>This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr. Wickham’s being among them.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to one of Miss Darcy, drawn +when she was only eight years old.</p> + +<p>“And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?” said Mr. Gardiner.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes—the handsomest young lady that ever was seen; and so +accomplished! She plays and sings all day long. In the next room is a +new instrument just come down for her—a present from my master: she +comes here to-morrow with him.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were easy and pleasant,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_305">{305}</a></span> encouraged her +communicativeness by his questions and remarks: Mrs. Reynolds, either +from pride or attachment, had evidently great pleasure in talking of her +master and his sister.</p> + +<p>“Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?”</p> + +<p>“Not so much as I could wish, sir: but I dare say he may spend half his +time here; and Miss Darcy is always down for the summer months.”</p> + +<p>“Except,” thought Elizabeth, “when she goes to Ramsgate.”</p> + +<p>“If your master would marry, you might see more of him.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; but I do not know when <i>that</i> will be. I do not know who is +good enough for him.”</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth could not help saying, “It is +very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think so.”</p> + +<p>“I say no more than the truth, and what everybody will say that knows +him,” replied the other. Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far; +and she listened with increasing astonishment as the housekeeper added, +“I have never had a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him +ever since he was four years old.”</p> + +<p>This was praise of all others most extraordinary, most opposite to her +ideas. That he was not a good-tempered man had been her firmest opinion. +Her keenest attention was awakened: she longed to hear more; and was +grateful to her uncle for saying,—</p> + +<p>“There are very few people of whom so much can be said. You are lucky in +having such a master.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, I know I am. If I were to go through the world, I could not +meet with a better. But I have always<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_306">{306}</a></span> observed, that they who are +good-natured when children, are good-natured when they grow up; and he +was always the sweetest tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the +world.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth almost stared at her. “Can this be Mr. Darcy?” thought she.</p> + +<p>“His father was an excellent man,” said Mrs. Gardiner.</p> + +<p>“Yes, ma’am, that he was indeed; and his son will be just like him—just +as affable to the poor.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for more. Mrs. +Reynolds could interest her on no other point. She related the subjects +of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, and the price of the +furniture in vain. Mr. Gardiner, highly amused by the kind of family +prejudice, to which he attributed her excessive commendation of her +master, soon led again to the subject; and she dwelt with energy on his +many merits, as they proceeded together up the great staircase.</p> + +<p>“He is the best landlord, and the best master,” said she, “that ever +lived. Not like the wild young men now-a-days, who think of nothing but +themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but what will +give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never +saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle +away like other young men.”</p> + +<p>“In what an amiable light does this place him!” thought Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>“This fine account of him,” whispered her aunt as they walked, “is not +quite consistent with his behaviour to our poor friend.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps we might be deceived.”</p> + +<p>“That is not very likely; our authority was too good.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_307">{307}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>On reaching the spacious lobby above, they were shown into a very pretty +sitting-room, lately fitted up with greater elegance and lightness than +the apartments below; and were informed that it was but just done to +give pleasure to Miss Darcy, who had taken a liking to the room, when +last at Pemberley.</p> + +<p>“He is certainly a good brother,” said Elizabeth, as she walked towards +one of the windows.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Reynolds anticipated Miss Darcy’s delight, when she should enter +the room. “And this is always the way with him,” she added. “Whatever +can give his sister any pleasure, is sure to be done in a moment. There +is nothing he would not do for her.”</p> + +<p>The picture gallery, and two or three of the principal bed-rooms, were +all that remained to be shown. In the former were many good paintings: +but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art; and from such as had been already +visible below, she had willingly turned to look at some drawings of Miss +Darcy’s, in crayons, whose subjects were usually more interesting, and +also more intelligible.</p> + +<p>In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could have +little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked on in quest +of the only face whose features would be known to her. At last it +arrested her—and she beheld a striking resemblance of Mr. Darcy, with +such a smile over the face, as she remembered to have sometimes seen, +when he looked at her. She stood several minutes before the picture, in +earnest contemplation, and returned to it again before they quitted the +gallery. Mrs. Reynolds informed them, that it had been taken in his +father’s lifetime.</p> + +<p>There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabet<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_308">{308}</a></span>h’s mind, a more gentle +sensation towards the original than she had ever felt in the height of +their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs. Reynolds +was of no trifling nature. What praise is more valuable than the praise +of an intelligent servant? As a brother, a landlord, a master, she +considered how many people’s happiness were in his guardianship! How +much of pleasure or pain it was in his power to bestow! How much of good +or evil must be done by him! Every idea that had been brought forward by +the housekeeper was favourable to his character; and as she stood before +the canvas, on which he was represented, and fixed his eyes upon +herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper sentiment of gratitude +than it had ever raised before: she remembered its warmth, and softened +its impropriety of expression.</p> + +<p>When all of the house that was open to general inspection had been seen, +they returned down stairs; and, taking leave of the housekeeper, were +consigned over to the gardener, who met them at the hall door.</p> + +<p>As they walked across the lawn towards the river, Elizabeth turned back +to look again; her uncle and aunt stopped also; and while the former was +conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself +suddenly came forward from the road which led behind it to the stables.</p> + +<p>They were within twenty yards of each other; and so abrupt was his +appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their eyes +instantly met, and the cheeks of each were overspread with the deepest +blush. He absolutely started, and for a moment seemed immovable from +surprise; but shortly recovering himself, advanced towards the party, +and spoke to Elizabeth,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_309">{309}</a></span> if not in terms of perfect composure, at least +of perfect civility.</p> + +<p>She had instinctively turned away; but stopping on his approach, +received his compliments with an embarrassment impossible to be +overcome. Had his first appearance, or his resemblance to the picture +they had just been examining, been insufficient to assure the other two +that they now saw Mr. Darcy, the gardener’s expression of surprise, on +beholding his master, must immediately have told it. They stood a little +aloof while he was talking to their niece, who, astonished and confused, +scarcely dared lift her eyes to his face, and knew not what answer she +returned to his civil inquiries after her family. Amazed at the +alteration of his manner since they last parted, every sentence that he +uttered was increasing her embarrassment; and every idea of the +impropriety of her being found there recurring to her mind, the few +minutes in which they continued together were some of the most +uncomfortable of her life. Nor did he seem much more at ease; when he +spoke, his accent had none of its usual sedateness; and he repeated his +inquiries as to the time of her having left Longbourn, and of her stay +in Derbyshire, so often, and in so hurried a way, as plainly spoke the +distraction of his thoughts.</p> + +<p>At length, every idea seemed to fail him; and after standing a few +moments without saying a word, he suddenly recollected himself, and took +leave.</p> + +<p>The others then joined her, and expressed their admiration of his +figure; but Elizabeth heard not a word, and, wholly engrossed by her own +feelings, followed them in silence. She was overpowered by shame and +vexation. Her coming there was the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged +thing in the world! How strange must it<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_310">{310}</a></span> appear to him! In what a +disgraceful light might it not strike so vain a man! It might seem as if +she had purposely thrown herself in his way again! Oh! why did she come? +or, why did he thus come a day before he was expected? Had they been +only ten minutes sooner, they should have been beyond the reach of his +discrimination; for it was plain that he was that moment arrived, that +moment alighted from his horse or his carriage. She blushed again and +again over the perverseness of the meeting. And his behaviour, so +strikingly altered,—what could it mean? That he should even speak to +her was amazing!—but to speak with such civility, to inquire after her +family! Never in her life had she seen his manners so little dignified, +never had he spoken with such gentleness as on this unexpected meeting. +What a contrast did it offer to his last address in Rosings Park, when +he put his letter into her hand! She knew not what to think, or how to +account for it.</p> + +<p>They had now entered a beautiful walk by the side of the water, and +every step was bringing forward a nobler fall of ground, or a finer +reach of the woods to which they were approaching: but it was some time +before Elizabeth was sensible of any of it; and, though she answered +mechanically to the repeated appeals of her uncle and aunt, and seemed +to direct her eyes to such objects as they pointed out, she +distinguished no part of the scene. Her thoughts were all fixed on that +one spot of Pemberley House, whichever it might be, where Mr. Darcy then +was. She longed to know what at that moment was passing in his mind; in +what manner he thought of her, and whether, in defiance of everything, +she was still dear to him. Perhaps he had been civil only because he +felt himself at ease; yet there had been<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_311">{311}</a></span> <i>that</i> in his voice, which was +not like ease. Whether he had felt more of pain or of pleasure in seeing +her, she could not tell, but he certainly had not seen her with +composure.</p> + +<p>At length, however, the remarks of her companions on her absence of mind +roused her, and she felt the necessity of appearing more like herself.</p> + +<p>They entered the woods, and, bidding adieu to the river for a while, +ascended some of the higher grounds; whence, in spots where the opening +of the trees gave the eye power to wander, were many charming views of +the valley, the opposite hills, with the long range of woods +overspreading many, and occasionally part of the stream. Mr. Gardiner +expressed a wish of going round the whole park, but feared it might be +beyond a walk. With a triumphant smile, they were told, that it was ten +miles round. It settled the matter; and they pursued the accustomed +circuit; which brought them again, after some time, in a descent among +hanging woods, to the edge of the water, and one of its narrowest parts. +They crossed it by a simple bridge, in character with the general air of +the scene: it was a spot less adorned than any they had yet visited; and +the valley, here contracted into a glen, allowed room only for the +stream, and a narrow walk amidst the rough coppice-wood which bordered +it. Elizabeth longed to explore its windings; but when they had crossed +the bridge, and perceived their distance from the house, Mrs. Gardiner, +who was not a great walker, could go no farther, and thought only of +returning to the carriage as quickly as possible. Her niece was, +therefore, obliged to submit, and they took their way towards the house +on the opposite side of the river, in the nearest direction; but their +progress was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_312">{312}</a></span> slow, for Mr. Gardiner, though seldom able to indulge the +taste, was very fond of fishing, and was so much engaged in watching the +occasional appearance of some trout in the water, and talking to the man +about them, that he advanced but little. Whilst wandering on in this +slow manner, they were again surprised, and Elizabeth’s astonishment was +quite equal to what it had been at first, by the sight of Mr. Darcy +approaching them, and at no great distance. The walk being here less +sheltered than on the other side, allowed them to see him before they +met. Elizabeth, however astonished, was at least more prepared for an +interview than before, and resolved to appear and to speak with +calmness, if he really intended to meet them. For a few moments, indeed, +she felt that he would probably strike into some other path. The idea +lasted while a turning in the walk concealed him from their view; the +turning past, he was immediately before them. With a glance she saw that +he had lost none of his recent civility; and, to imitate his politeness, +she began as they met to admire the beauty of the place; but she had not +got beyond the words “delightful,” and “charming,” when some unlucky +recollections obtruded, and she fancied that praise of Pemberley from +her might be mischievously construed. Her colour changed, and she said +no more.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gardiner was standing a little behind; and on her pausing, he asked +her if she would do him the honour of introducing him to her friends. +This was a stroke of civility for which she was quite unprepared; and +she could hardly suppress a smile at his being now seeking the +acquaintance of some of those very people, against whom his pride had +revolted, in his offer to herself. “What will be his surprise,” thought +she, “when he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_313">{313}</a></span> knows who they are! He takes them now for people of +fashion.”</p> + +<p>The introduction, however, was immediately made; and as she named their +relationship to herself, she stole a sly look at him, to see how he bore +it; and was not without the expectation of his decamping as fast as he +could from such disgraceful companions. That he was <i>surprised</i> by the +connection was evident: he sustained it, however, with fortitude: and, +so far from going away, turned back with them, and entered into +conversation with Mr. Gardiner. Elizabeth could not but be pleased, +could not but triumph. It was consoling that he should know she had some +relations for whom there was no need to blush. She listened most +attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every +expression, every sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence, +his taste, or his good manners.</p> + +<p>The conversation soon turned upon fishing; and she heard Mr. Darcy +invite him, with the greatest civility, to fish there as often as he +chose, while he continued in the neighbourhood, offering at the same +time to supply him with fishing tackle, and pointing out those parts of +the stream where there was usually most sport. Mrs. Gardiner, who was +walking arm in arm with Elizabeth, gave her a look expressive of her +wonder. Elizabeth said nothing, but it gratified her exceedingly; the +compliment must be all for herself. Her astonishment, however, was +extreme; and continually was she repeating, “Why is he so altered? From +what can it proceed? It cannot be for <i>me</i>, it cannot be for <i>my</i> sake +that his manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not +work such a change as this. It is impossible that he should still love +me.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_314">{314}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>After walking some time in this way, the two ladies in front, the two +gentlemen behind, on resuming their places, after descending to the +brink of the river for the better inspection of some curious +water-plant, there chanced to be a little alteration. It originated in +Mrs. Gardiner, who, fatigued by the exercise of the morning, found +Elizabeth’s arm inadequate to her support, and consequently preferred +her husband’s. Mr. Darcy took her place by her niece, and they walked on +together. After a short silence the lady first spoke. She wished him to +know that she had been assured of his absence before she came to the +place, and accordingly began by observing, that his arrival had been +very unexpected—“for your housekeeper,” she added, “informed us that +you would certainly not be here till to-morrow; and, indeed, before we +left Bakewell, we understood that you were not immediately expected in +the country.” He acknowledged the truth of it all; and said that +business with his steward had occasioned his coming forward a few hours +before the rest of the party with whom he had been travelling. “They +will join me early to-morrow,” he continued, “and among them are some +who will claim an acquaintance with you,—Mr. Bingley and his sisters.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth answered only by a slight bow. Her thoughts were instantly +driven back to the time when Mr. Bingley’s name had been last mentioned +between them; and if she might judge from his complexion, <i>his</i> mind was +not very differently engaged.</p> + +<p>“There is also one other person in the party,” he continued after a +pause, “who more particularly wishes to be known to you. Will you allow +me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance +during your stay at Lambton?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_315">{315}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>The surprise of such an application was great indeed; it was too great +for her to know in what manner she acceded to it. She immediately felt +that whatever desire Miss Darcy might have of being acquainted with her, +must be the work of her brother, and without looking farther, it was +satisfactory; it was gratifying to know that his resentment had not made +him think really ill of her.</p> + +<p>They now walked on in silence; each of them deep in thought. Elizabeth +was not comfortable; that was impossible; but she was flattered and +pleased. His wish of introducing his sister to her was a compliment of +the highest kind. They soon outstripped the others; and when they had +reached the carriage, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were half a quarter of a +mile behind.</p> + +<p>He then asked her to walk into the house—but she declared herself not +tired, and they stood together on the lawn. At such a time much might +have been said, and silence was very awkward. She wanted to talk, but +there seemed an embargo on every subject. At last she recollected that +she had been travelling, and they talked of Matlock and Dovedale with +great perseverance. Yet time and her aunt moved slowly—and her patience +and her ideas were nearly worn out before the <i>tête-à-tête</i> was over.</p> + +<p>On Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s coming up they were all pressed to go into +the house and take some refreshment; but this was declined, and they +parted on each side with the utmost politeness. Mr. Darcy handed the +ladies into the carriage; and when it drove off, Elizabeth saw him +walking slowly towards the house.</p> + +<p>The observations of her uncle and aunt now began; and each of them +pronounced him to be infinitely superior to anything they had expected.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_316">{316}</a></span></p> + +<p>“He is perfectly well-behaved, polite, and unassuming,” said her uncle.</p> + +<p>“There <i>is</i> something a little stately in him, to be sure,” replied her +aunt; “but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming. I can now +say with the housekeeper, that though some people may call him proud, +<i>I</i> have seen nothing of it.”</p> + +<p>“I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. It was more +than civil; it was really attentive; and there was no necessity for such +attention. His acquaintance with Elizabeth was very trifling.”</p> + +<p>“To be sure, Lizzy,” said her aunt, “he is not so handsome as Wickham; +or rather he has not Wickham’s countenance, for his features are +perfectly good. But how came you to tell us that he was so +disagreeable?”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth excused herself as well as she could: said that she had liked +him better when they met in Kent than before, and that she had never +seen him so pleasant as this morning.</p> + +<p>“But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities,” replied +her uncle. “Your great men often are; and therefore I shall not take him +at his word about fishing, as he might change his mind another day, and +warn me off his grounds.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth felt that they had entirely mistaken his character, but said +nothing.</p> + +<p>“From what we have seen of him,” continued Mrs. Gardiner, “I really +should not have thought that he could have behaved in so cruel a way by +anybody as he has done by poor Wickham. He has not an ill-natured look. +On the contrary, there is something pleasing about his mouth when he +speaks. And there is something of dignity in his countenance, that would +not give one an<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_317">{317}</a></span> unfavourable idea of his heart. But, to be sure, the +good lady who showed us the house did give him a most flaming character! +I could hardly help laughing aloud sometimes. But he is a liberal +master, I suppose, and <i>that</i>, in the eye of a servant, comprehends +every virtue.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth here felt herself called on to say something in vindication of +his behaviour to Wickham; and, therefore, gave them to understand, in as +guarded a manner as she could, that by what she had heard from his +relations in Kent, his actions were capable of a very different +construction; and that his character was by no means so faulty, nor +Wickham’s so amiable, as they had been considered in Hertfordshire. In +confirmation of this, she related the particulars of all the pecuniary +transactions in which they had been connected, without actually naming +her authority, but stating it to be such as might be relied on.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gardiner was surprised and concerned: but as they were now +approaching the scene of her former pleasures, every idea gave way to +the charm of recollection; and she was too much engaged in pointing out +to her husband all the interesting spots in its environs, to think of +anything else. Fatigued as she had been by the morning’s walk, they had +no sooner dined than she set off again in quest of her former +acquaintance, and the evening was spent in the satisfactions of an +intercourse renewed after many years’ discontinuance.</p> + +<p>The occurrences of the day were too full of interest to leave Elizabeth +much attention for any of these new friends; and she could do nothing +but think, and think with wonder, of Mr. Darcy’s civility, and, above +all, of his wishing her to be acquainted with his sister.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_318">{318}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a><img src="images/i_347_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XLIV.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_347_b.png" +width="100" +alt="E"></span>LIZABETH had settled it that Mr. Darcy would bring his sister to visit +her the very day after her reaching Pemberley; and was, consequently, +resolved not to be out of sight of the inn the whole of that morning. +But her conclusion was false; for on the very morning after their own +arrival at Lambton these visitors came. They had been walking about the +place with some of their new friends, and were just returned to the inn +to dress themselves for dining with the same family, when the sound of a +carriage drew them to a window, and they saw a gentleman and lady in a +curricle driving up the street. Elizabeth, immediately recognizing the +livery, guessed what it meant, and imparted no small degree of surprise +to her relations, by acquainting them with the honour which she +expected. Her<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_319">{319}</a></span> uncle and aunt were all amazement; and the embarrassment +of her manner as she spoke, joined to the circumstance itself, and many +of the circumstances of the preceding day, opened to them a new idea on +the business. Nothing had ever suggested it before, but they now felt +that there was no other way of accounting for such attentions from such +a quarter than by supposing a partiality for their niece. While these +newly-born notions were passing in their heads, the perturbation of +Elizabeth’s feelings was every moment increasing. She was quite amazed +at her own discomposure; but, amongst other causes of disquiet, she +dreaded lest the partiality of the brother should have said too much in +her favour; and, more than commonly anxious to please, she naturally +suspected that every power of pleasing would fail her.</p> + +<p>She retreated from the window, fearful of being seen; and as she walked +up and down the room, endeavouring to compose herself, saw such looks of +inquiring surprise in her uncle and aunt as made everything worse.</p> + +<p>Miss Darcy and her brother appeared, and this formidable introduction +took place. With astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new +acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as herself. Since her +being at Lambton, she had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud; +but the observation of a very few minutes convinced her that she was +only exceedingly shy. She found it difficult to obtain even a word from +her beyond a monosyllable.</p> + +<p>Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth; and, though +little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance +womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother, but<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_320">{320}</a></span> there +was sense and good-humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly +unassuming and gentle. Elizabeth, who had expected to find in her as +acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was much +relieved by discerning such different feelings.</p> + +<p>They had not been long together before Darcy told her that Bingley was +also coming to wait on her; and she had barely time to express her +satisfaction, and prepare for such a visitor, when Bingley’s quick step +was heard on the stairs, and in a moment he entered the room. All +Elizabeth’s anger against him had been long done away; but had she still +felt any, it could hardly have stood its ground against the unaffected +cordiality with which he expressed himself on seeing her again. He +inquired in a friendly, though general, way, after her family, and +looked and spoke with the same good-humoured ease that he had ever done.</p> + +<p>To Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner he was scarcely a less interesting personage +than to herself. They had long wished to see him. The whole party before +them, indeed, excited a lively attention. The suspicions which had just +arisen of Mr. Darcy and their niece, directed their observation towards +each with an earnest, though guarded, inquiry; and they soon drew from +those inquiries the full conviction that one of them at least knew what +it was to love. Of the lady’s sensations they remained a little in +doubt; but that the gentleman was overflowing with admiration was +evident enough.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, on her side, had much to do. She wanted to ascertain the +feelings of each of her visitors, she wanted to compose her own, and to +make herself agreeable to all; and in the latter object, where she +feared most to fail, she was most sure of success, for those to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_321">{321}</a></span> whom +she endeavoured to give pleasure were pre-possessed in her favour. +Bingley was ready, Georgiana was eager, and Darcy determined, to be +pleased.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/i_350.jpg" width="550" height="538" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“To make herself agreeable to all”</p></div> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>In seeing Bingley, her thoughts naturally flew to her sister; and oh! +how ardently did she long to know whether any of his were directed in a +like manner. Sometimes she could fancy that he talked less than on +former occasions, and once or twice pleased herself with the notion +that, as he looked at her, he was trying to trace a resemblance. But, +though this might be imaginary, she could not be deceived as to his +behaviour<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_322">{322}</a></span> to Miss Darcy, who had been set up as a rival to Jane. No +look appeared on either side that spoke particular regard. Nothing +occurred between them that could justify the hopes of his sister. On +this point she was soon satisfied; and two or three little circumstances +occurred ere they parted, which, in her anxious interpretation, denoted +a recollection of Jane, not untinctured by tenderness, and a wish of +saying more that might lead to the mention of her, had he dared. He +observed to her, at a moment when the others were talking together, and +in a tone which had something of real regret, that it “was a very long +time since he had had the pleasure of seeing her;” and, before she could +reply, he added, “It is above eight months. We have not met since the +26th of November, when we were all dancing together at Netherfield.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was pleased to find his memory so exact; and he afterwards +took occasion to ask her, when unattended to by any of the rest, whether +<i>all</i> her sisters were at Longbourn. There was not much in the question, +nor in the preceding remark; but there was a look and a manner which +gave them meaning.</p> + +<p>It was not often that she could turn her eyes on Mr. Darcy himself; but +whenever she did catch a glimpse she saw an expression of general +complaisance, and in all that he said, she heard an accent so far +removed from <i>hauteur</i> or disdain of his companions, as convinced her +that the improvement of manners which she had yesterday witnessed, +however temporary its existence might prove, had at least outlived one +day. When she saw him thus seeking the acquaintance, and courting the +good opinion of people with whom any intercourse a few months ago would +have been a disgrace; when she saw<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_323">{323}</a></span> him thus civil, not only to herself, +but to the very relations whom he had openly disdained, and recollected +their last lively scene in Hunsford Parsonage, the difference, the +change was so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could +hardly restrain her astonishment from being visible. Never, even in the +company of his dear friends at Netherfield, or his dignified relations +at Rosings, had she seen him so desirous to please, so free from +self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no importance could +result from the success of his endeavours, and when even the +acquaintance of those to whom his attentions were addressed, would draw +down the ridicule and censure of the ladies both of Netherfield and +Rosings.</p> + +<p>Their visitors stayed with them above half an hour; and when they arose +to depart, Mr. Darcy called on his sister to join him in expressing +their wish of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and Miss Bennet, to dinner +at Pemberley, before they left the country. Miss Darcy, though with a +diffidence which marked her little in the habit of giving invitations, +readily obeyed. Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece, desirous of knowing +how <i>she</i>, whom the invitation most concerned, felt disposed as to its +acceptance, but Elizabeth had turned away her head. Presuming, however, +that this studied avoidance spoke rather a momentary embarrassment than +any dislike of the proposal, and seeing in her husband, who was fond of +society, a perfect willingness to accept it, she ventured to engage for +her attendance, and the day after the next was fixed on.</p> + +<p>Bingley expressed great pleasure in the certainty of seeing Elizabeth +again, having still a great deal to say to her, and many inquiries to +make after all their Hertfordshire friends. Elizabeth, construing all +this into a wish<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_324">{324}</a></span> of hearing her speak of her sister, was pleased; and +on this account, as well as some others, found herself, when their +visitors left them, capable of considering the last half hour with some +satisfaction, though while it was passing the enjoyment of it had been +little. Eager to be alone, and fearful of inquiries or hints from her +uncle and aunt, she stayed with them only long enough to hear their +favourable opinion of Bingley, and then hurried away to dress.</p> + +<p>But she had no reason to fear Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s curiosity; it was +not their wish to force her communication. It was evident that she was +much better acquainted with Mr. Darcy than they had before any idea of; +it was evident that he was very much in love with her. They saw much to +interest, but nothing to justify inquiry.</p> + +<p>Of Mr. Darcy it was now a matter of anxiety to think well; and, as far +as their acquaintance reached, there was no fault to find. They could +not be untouched by his politeness; and had they drawn his character +from their own feelings and his servant’s report, without any reference +to any other account, the circle in Hertfordshire to which he was known +would not have recognized it for Mr. Darcy. There was now an interest, +however, in believing the housekeeper; and they soon became sensible +that the authority of a servant, who had known him since he was four +years old, and whose own manners indicated respectability, was not to be +hastily rejected. Neither had anything occurred in the intelligence of +their Lambton friends that could materially lessen its weight. They had +nothing to accuse him of but pride; pride he probably had, and if not, +it would certainly be imputed by the inhabitants of a small market town<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_325">{325}</a></span> +where the family did not visit. It was acknowledged, however, that he +was a liberal man, and did much good among the poor.</p> + +<p>With respect to Wickham, the travellers soon found that he was not held +there in much estimation; for though the chief of his concerns with the +son of his patron were imperfectly understood, it was yet a well-known +fact that, on his quitting Derbyshire, he had left many debts behind +him, which Mr. Darcy afterwards discharged.</p> + +<p>As for Elizabeth, her thoughts were at Pemberley this evening more than +the last; and the evening, though as it passed it seemed long, was not +long enough to determine her feelings towards <i>one</i> in that mansion; and +she lay awake two whole hours, endeavouring to make them out. She +certainly did not hate him. No; hatred had vanished long ago, and she +had almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against him, +that could be so called. The respect created by the conviction of his +valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some +time ceased to be repugnant to her feelings; and it was now heightened +into somewhat of a friendlier nature by the testimony so highly in his +favour, and bringing forward his disposition in so amiable a light, +which yesterday had produced. But above all, above respect and esteem, +there was a motive within her of good-will which could not be +overlooked. It was gratitude;—gratitude, not merely for having once +loved her, but for loving her still well enough to forgive all the +petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and all the +unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. He who, she had been +persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy, seemed, on this +accidental<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_326">{326}</a></span> meeting, most eager to preserve the acquaintance; and +without any indelicate display of regard, or any peculiarity of manner, +where their two selves only were concerned, was soliciting the good +opinion of her friends, and bent on making her known to his sister. Such +a change in a man of so much pride excited not only astonishment but +gratitude—for to love, ardent love, it must be attributed; and, as +such, its impression on her was of a sort to be encouraged, as by no +means unpleasing, though it could not be exactly defined. She respected, +she esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt a real interest in his +welfare; and she only wanted to know how far she wished that welfare to +depend upon herself, and how far it would be for the happiness of both +that she should employ the power, which her fancy told her she still +possessed, of bringing on the renewal of his addresses.</p> + +<p>It had been settled in the evening, between the aunt and niece, that +such a striking civility as Miss Darcy’s, in coming to them on the very +day of her arrival at Pemberley—for she had reached it only to a late +breakfast—ought to be imitated, though it could not be equalled, by +some exertion of politeness on their side; and, consequently, that it +would be highly expedient to wait on her at Pemberley the following +morning. They were, therefore, to go. Elizabeth was pleased; though when +she asked herself the reason, she had very little to say in reply.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gardiner left them soon after breakfast. The fishing scheme had been +renewed the day before, and a positive engagement made of his meeting +some of the gentlemen at Pemberley by noon.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_327">{327}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a><img src="images/i_356_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“Engaged by the river.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XLV.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_356_b.png" +width="100" +alt="C"></span>ONVINCED as Elizabeth now was that Miss Bingley’s dislike of her had +originated in jealousy, she could not help feeling how very unwelcome +her appearance at Pemberley must be to her, and was curious to know +with<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_328">{328}</a></span> how much civility on that lady’s side the acquaintance would now +be renewed.</p> + +<p>On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into the saloon, +whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for summer. Its windows, +opening to the ground, admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody +hills behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts +which were scattered over the intermediate lawn.</p> + +<p>In this room they were received by Miss Darcy, who was sitting there +with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and the lady with whom she lived in +London. Georgiana’s reception of them was very civil, but attended with +all that embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness and the +fear of doing wrong, would easily give to those who felt themselves +inferior the belief of her being proud and reserved. Mrs. Gardiner and +her niece, however, did her justice, and pitied her.</p> + +<p>By Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley they were noticed only by a courtesy; and +on their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always be, +succeeded for a few moments. It was first broken by Mrs. Annesley, a +genteel, agreeable-looking woman, whose endeavour to introduce some kind +of discourse proved her to be more truly well-bred than either of the +others; and between her and Mrs. Gardiner, with occasional help from +Elizabeth, the conversation was carried on. Miss Darcy looked as if she +wished for courage enough to join in it; and sometimes did venture a +short sentence, when there was least danger of its being heard.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely watched by Miss Bingley, +and that she could not speak a word, especially to Miss Darcy, without +calling her attention.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_329">{329}</a></span> This observation would not have prevented her +from trying to talk to the latter, had they not been seated at an +inconvenient distance; but she was not sorry to be spared the necessity +of saying much: her own thoughts were employing her. She expected every +moment that some of the gentlemen would enter the room: she wished, she +feared, that the master of the house might be amongst them; and whether +she wished or feared it most, she could scarcely determine. After +sitting in this manner a quarter of an hour, without hearing Miss +Bingley’s voice, Elizabeth was roused by receiving from her a cold +inquiry after the health of her family. She answered with equal +indifference and brevity, and the other said no more.</p> + +<p>The next variation which their visit afforded was produced by the +entrance of servants with cold meat, cake, and a variety of all the +finest fruits in season; but this did not take place till after many a +significant look and smile from Mrs. Annesley to Miss Darcy had been +given, to remind her of her post. There was now employment for the whole +party; for though they could not all talk, they could all eat; and the +beautiful pyramids of grapes, nectarines, and peaches, soon collected +them round the table.</p> + +<p>While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity of deciding whether +she most feared or wished for the appearance of Mr. Darcy, by the +feelings which prevailed on his entering the room; and then, though but +a moment before she had believed her wishes to predominate, she began to +regret that he came.</p> + +<p>He had been some time with Mr. Gardiner, who, with two or three other +gentlemen from the house, was engaged by the river; and had left him +only on learning<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_330">{330}</a></span> that the ladies of the family intended a visit to +Georgiana that morning. No sooner did he appear, than Elizabeth wisely +resolved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed;—a resolution the more +necessary to be made, but perhaps not the more easily kept, because she +saw that the suspicions of the whole party were awakened against them, +and that there was scarcely an eye which did not watch his behaviour +when he first came into the room. In no countenance was attentive +curiosity so strongly marked as in Miss Bingley’s, in spite of the +smiles which overspread her face whenever she spoke to one of its +objects; for jealousy had not yet made her desperate, and her attentions +to Mr. Darcy were by no means over. Miss Darcy, on her brother’s +entrance, exerted herself much more to talk; and Elizabeth saw that he +was anxious for his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded, +as much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side. Miss +Bingley saw all this likewise; and, in the imprudence of anger, took the +first opportunity of saying, with sneering civility,—</p> + +<p>“Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the ——shire militia removed from Meryton? +They must be a great loss to <i>your</i> family.”</p> + +<p>In Darcy’s presence she dared not mention Wickham’s name: but Elizabeth +instantly comprehended that he was uppermost in her thoughts; and the +various recollections connected with him gave her a moment’s distress; +but, exerting herself vigorously to repel the ill-natured attack, she +presently answered the question in a tolerably disengaged tone. While +she spoke, an involuntary glance showed her Darcy with a heightened +complexion, earnestly looking at her, and his sister overcome with +confusion, and unable to lift up her eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_331">{331}</a></span> Had Miss Bingley known what +pain she was then giving her beloved friend, she undoubtedly would have +refrained from the hint; but she had merely intended to discompose +Elizabeth, by bringing forward the idea of a man to whom she believed +her partial, to make her betray a sensibility which might injure her in +Darcy’s opinion, and, perhaps, to remind the latter of all the follies +and absurdities by which some part of her family were connected with +that corps. Not a syllable had ever reached her of Miss Darcy’s +meditated elopement. To no creature had it been revealed, where secrecy +was possible, except to Elizabeth; and from all Bingley’s connections +her brother was particularly anxious to conceal it, from that very wish +which Elizabeth had long ago attributed to him, of their becoming +hereafter her own. He had certainly formed such a plan; and without +meaning that it should affect his endeavour to separate him from Miss +Bennet, it is probable that it might add something to his lively concern +for the welfare of his friend.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth’s collected behaviour, however, soon quieted his emotion; and +as Miss Bingley, vexed and disappointed, dared not approach nearer to +Wickham, Georgiana also recovered in time, though not enough to be able +to speak any more. Her brother, whose eye she feared to meet, scarcely +recollected her interest in the affair; and the very circumstance which +had been designed to turn his thoughts from Elizabeth, seemed to have +fixed them on her more and more cheerfully.</p> + +<p>Their visit did not continue long after the question and answer above +mentioned; and while Mr. Darcy was attending them to their carriage, +Miss Bingley was venting her feelings in criticisms on Elizabet<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_332">{332}</a></span>h’s +person, behaviour, and dress. But Georgiana would not join her. Her +brother’s recommendation was enough to insure her favour: his judgment +could not err; and he had spoken in such terms of Elizabeth, as to leave +Georgiana without the power of finding her otherwise than lovely and +amiable. When Darcy returned to the saloon, Miss Bingley could not help +repeating to him some part of what she had been saying to his sister.</p> + +<p>“How very ill Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy,” she cried: “I +never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she is since the winter. +She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we +should not have known her again.”</p> + +<p>However little Mr. Darcy might have liked such an address, he contented +himself with coolly replying, that he perceived no other alteration than +her being rather tanned,—no miraculous consequence of travelling in the +summer.</p> + +<p>“For my own part,” she rejoined, “I must confess that I never could see +any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no +brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants +character; there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are +tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which +have sometimes been called so fine, I never could perceive anything +extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not +like at all; and in her air altogether, there is a self-sufficiency +without fashion, which is intolerable.”</p> + +<p>Persuaded as Miss Bingley was that Darcy admired Elizabeth, this was not +the best method of recommending herself; but angry people are not always +wise; and in seeing him at last look somewhat nettled, she had all<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_333">{333}</a></span> the +success she expected. He was resolutely silent, however; and, from a +determination of making him speak, she continued,—</p> + +<p>“I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all +were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect +your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, ‘<i>She</i> +a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit.’ But afterwards she +seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at +one time.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied Darcy, who could contain himself no longer, “but <i>that</i> +was only when I first knew her; for it is many months since I have +considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.”</p> + +<p>He then went away, and Miss Bingley was left to all the satisfaction of +having forced him to say what gave no one any pain but herself.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth talked of all that had occurred during their +visit, as they returned, except what had particularly interested them +both. The looks and behaviour of everybody they had seen were discussed, +except of the person who had mostly engaged their attention. They talked +of his sister, his friends, his house, his fruit, of everything but +himself; yet Elizabeth was longing to know what Mrs. Gardiner thought of +him, and Mrs. Gardiner would have been highly gratified by her niece’s +beginning the subject.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_334">{334}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a><img src="images/i_363_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>Chapter XLVI.</h2> + +<p class="nind"> +<span class="letra"><img src="images/i_363_b.png" +width="100" +alt="E"></span>LIZABETH had been a good deal disappointed in not finding a letter from +Jane on their first arrival at Lambton; and this disappointment had been +renewed on each of the mornings that had now been spent there; but on +the third her repining was over, and her sister justified, by the +receipt of two letters from her at once, on one of which was marked that +it had been mis-sent elsewhere. Elizabeth was not surprised at it, as +Jane had written the direction remarkably ill.</p> + +<p>They had just been preparing to walk as the letters came in; and her +uncle and aunt, leaving her to enjoy them in quiet, set off by +themselves. The one mis-sent must be first attended to; it had been +written five days ago. The beginning contained an account of all their +little parties and engagements, with such news as the country afforded; +but the latter half, which was dated a day later, and written in evident +agitation, gave more important intelligence. It was to this effect:—</p> + +<p>“Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has occurred of a +most unexpected and serious nature; but I am afraid of alarming you—be +assured that we are all<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_335">{335}</a></span> well. What I have to say relates to poor Lydia. +An express came at twelve last night, just as we were all gone to bed, +from Colonel Forster, to inform us that she was gone off to Scotland +with one of his officers; to own the truth, with Wickham! Imagine our +surprise. To Kitty, however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. I am +very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both sides! But I am willing +to hope the best, and that his character has been misunderstood. +Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe him, but this step (and +let us rejoice over it) marks nothing bad at heart. His choice is +disinterested at least, for he must know my father can give her nothing. +Our poor mother is sadly grieved. My father bears it better. How +thankful am I, that we never let them know what has been said against +him; we must forget it ourselves. They were off Saturday night about +twelve, as is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning at +eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they must have +passed within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives us reason to expect +him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for his wife, informing her of +their intention. I must conclude, for I cannot be long from my poor +mother. I am afraid you will not be able to make it out, but I hardly +know what I have written.”</p> + +<p>Without allowing herself time for consideration, and scarcely knowing +what she felt, Elizabeth, on finishing this letter, instantly seized the +other, and opening it with the utmost impatience, read as follows: it +had been written a day later than the conclusion of the first.</p> + +<p>“By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried letter; I +wish this may be more intelligible, but though not confined for time, my +head is so bewildered that I cannot answer for being coherent. Dearest +Lizzy,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_336">{336}</a></span> I hardly know what I would write, but I have bad news for you, +and it cannot be delayed. Imprudent as a marriage between Mr. Wickham +and our poor Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured it has +taken place, for there is but too much reason to fear they are not gone +to Scotland. Colonel Forster came yesterday, having left Brighton the +day before, not many hours after the express. Though Lydia’s short +letter to Mrs. F. gave them to understand that they were going to Gretna +Green, something was dropped by Denny expressing his belief that W. +never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all, which was repeated +to Colonel F., who, instantly taking the alarm, set off from B., +intending to trace their route. He did trace them easily to Clapham, but +no farther; for on entering that place, they removed into a +hackney-coach, and dismissed the chaise that brought them from Epsom. +All that is known after this is, that they were seen to continue the +London road. I know not what to think. After making every possible +inquiry on that side of London, Colonel F. came on into Hertfordshire, +anxiously renewing them at all the turnpikes, and at the inns in Barnet +and Hatfield, but without any success,—no such people had been seen to +pass through. With the kindest concern he came on to Longbourn, and +broke his apprehensions to us in a manner most creditable to his heart. +I am sincerely grieved for him and Mrs. F.; but no one can throw any +blame on them. Our distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. My father and +mother believe the worst, but I cannot think so ill of him. Many +circumstances might make it more eligible for them to be married +privately in town than to pursue their first plan; and even if <i>he</i> +could form such a design against a young woman of Lydi<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_337">{337}</a></span>a’s connections, +which is not likely, can I suppose her so lost to everything? +Impossible! I grieve to find, however, that Colonel F. is not disposed +to depend upon their marriage: he shook his head when I expressed my +hopes, and said he feared W. was not a man to be trusted. My poor mother +is really ill, and keeps her room. Could she exert herself, it would be +better, but this is not to be expected; and as to my father, I never in +my life saw him so affected. Poor Kitty has anger for having concealed +their attachment; but as it was a matter of confidence, one cannot +wonder. I am truly glad, dearest Lizzy, that you have been spared +something of these distressing scenes; but now, as the first shock is +over, shall I own that I long for your return? I am not so selfish, +however, as to press for it, if inconvenient. Adieu! I take up my pen +again to do, what I have just told you I would not; but circumstances +are such, that I cannot help earnestly begging you all to come here as +soon as possible. I know my dear uncle and aunt so well, that I am not +afraid of requesting it, though I have still something more to ask of +the former. My father is going to London with Colonel Forster instantly, +to try to discover her. What he means to do, I am sure I know not; but +his excessive distress will not allow him to pursue any measure in the +best and safest way, and Colonel Forster is obliged to be at Brighton +again to-morrow evening. In such an exigence my uncle’s advice and +assistance would be everything in the world; he will immediately +comprehend what I must feel, and I rely upon his goodness.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! where, where is my uncle?” cried Elizabeth, darting from her seat +as she finished the letter, in eagerness to follow him, without losing a +moment of the time so precious; but as she reached the door, it was +opened<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_338">{338}</a></span> by a servant, and Mr. Darcy appeared. Her pale face and +impetuous manner made him start, and before he could recover himself +enough to speak, she, in whose mind every idea was superseded by Lydia’s +situation, hastily exclaimed, “I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. +I must find Mr. Gardiner this moment on business that cannot be delayed; +I have not an instant to lose.”</p> + +<p>“Good God! what is the matter?” cried he, with more feeling than +politeness; then recollecting himself, “I will not detain you a minute; +but let me, or let the servant, go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. You are +not well enough; you cannot go yourself.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth hesitated; but her knees trembled under her, and she felt how +little would be gained by her attempting to pursue them. Calling back +the servant, therefore, she commissioned him, though in so breathless an +accent as made her almost unintelligible, to fetch his master and +mistress home instantly.</p> + +<p>On his quitting the room, she sat down, unable to support herself, and +looking so miserably ill, that it was impossible for Darcy to leave her, +or to refrain from saying, in a tone of gentleness and commiseration, +“Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take to give you +present relief? A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill.”</p> + +<p>“No, I thank you,” she replied, endeavouring to recover herself. “There +is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well, I am only distressed by +some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn.”</p> + +<p>She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a few minutes could +not speak another word. Darcy, in wretched suspense, could only say +something indistinctly of his<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_339">{339}</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 442px;"> +<img src="images/i_368.jpg" width="442" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> +<p>“I have not an instant to lose”</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="nind">concern, and observe her in compassionate silence. At length she spoke +again. “I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It +cannot be concealed from anyone. My youngest sister has left all her +friends—has eloped; has thrown herself into the power of—of Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_340">{340}</a></span> +Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. <i>You</i> know him too +well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that +can tempt him to—she is lost for ever.”</p> + +<p>Darcy was fixed in astonishment.</p> + +<p>“When I consider,” she added, in a yet more agitated voice, “that <i>I</i> +might have prevented it! <i>I</i> who knew what he was. Had I but explained +some part of it only—some part of what I learnt, to my own family! Had +his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all, +all too late now.”</p> + +<p>“I am grieved, indeed,” cried Darcy: “grieved—shocked. But is it +certain, absolutely certain?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes! They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced +almost to London, but not beyond: they are certainly not gone to +Scotland.”</p> + +<p>“And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?”</p> + +<p>“My father has gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle’s +immediate assistance, and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour. But +nothing can be done; I know very well that nothing can be done. How is +such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have +not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!”</p> + +<p>Darcy shook his head in silent acquiescence.</p> + +<p>“When <i>my</i> eyes were opened to his real character, oh! had I known what +I ought, what I dared to do! But I knew not—I was afraid of doing too +much. Wretched, wretched mistake!”</p> + +<p>Darcy made no answer. He seemed scarcely to hear her, and was walking up +and down the room in earnest meditation; his brow contracted, his air +gloomy.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_341">{341}</a></span> Elizabeth soon observed, and instantly understood it. Her power +was sinking; everything <i>must</i> sink under such a proof of family +weakness, such an assurance of the deepest disgrace. She could neither +wonder nor condemn; but the belief of his self-conquest brought nothing +consolatory to her bosom, afforded no palliation of her distress. It +was, on the contrary, exactly calculated to make her understand her own +wishes; and never had she so honestly felt that she could have loved +him, as now, when all love must be vain.</p> + +<p>But self, though it would intrude, could not engross her. Lydia—the +humiliation, the misery she was bringing on them all—soon swallowed up +every private care; and covering her face with her handkerchief, +Elizabeth was soon lost to everything else; and, after a pause of +several minutes, was only recalled to a sense of her situation by the +voice of her companion, who, in a manner which, though it spoke +compassion, spoke likewise restraint, said,—</p> + +<p>“I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything +to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing concern. +Would to Heaven that anything could be either said or done on my part, +that might offer consolation to such distress! But I will not torment +you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks. +This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister’s having the +pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley to-day.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes! Be so kind as to apologize for us to Miss Darcy. Say that +urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as +long as it is possible. I know it cannot be long.”</p> + +<p>He readily assured her of his secrecy, again expressed<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_342">{342}</a></span> his sorrow for +her distress, wished it a happier conclusion than there was at present +reason to hope, and, leaving his compliments for her relations, with +only one serious parting look, went away.</p> + +<p>As he quitted the room, Elizabeth felt how improbable it was that they +should ever see each other again on such terms of cordiality as had +marked their several meetings in Derbyshire; and as she threw a +retrospective glance over the whole of their acquaintance, so full of +contradictions and varieties, sighed at the perverseness of those +feelings which would now have promoted its continuance, and would +formerly have rejoiced in its termination.</p> + +<p>If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection, Elizabeth’s +change of sentiment will be neither improbable nor faulty. But if +otherwise, if the regard springing from such sources is unreasonable or +unnatural, in comparison of what is so often described as arising on a +first interview with its object, and even before two words have been +exchanged, nothing can be said in her defence, except that she had given +somewhat of a trial to the latter method, in her partiality for Wickham, +and that its ill success might, perhaps, authorize her to seek the other +less interesting mode of attachment. Be that as it may, she saw him go +with regret; and in this early example of what Lydia’s infamy must +produce, found additional anguish as she reflected on that wretched +business. Never since reading Jane’s second letter had she entertained a +hope of Wickham’s meaning to marry her. No one but Jane, she thought, +could flatter herself with such an expectation. Surprise was the least +of all her feelings on this development. While the contents of the first +letter remained on her mind, she was all surprise,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_343">{343}</a></span> all astonishment, +that Wickham should marry a girl whom it was impossible he could marry +for money; and how Lydia could ever have attached him had appeared +incomprehensible. But now it was all too natural. For such an attachment +as this, she might have sufficient charms; and though she did not +suppose Lydia to be deliberately engaging in an elopement, without the +intention of marriage, she had no difficulty in believing that neither +her virtue nor her understanding would preserve her from falling an easy +prey.</p> + +<p>She had never perceived, while the regiment was in Hertfordshire, that +Lydia had any partiality for him; but she was convinced that Lydia had +wanted only encouragement to attach herself to anybody. Sometimes one +officer, sometimes another, had been her favourite, as their attentions +raised them in her opinion. Her affections had been continually +fluctuating, but never without an object. The mischief of neglect and +mistaken indulgence towards such a girl—oh! how acutely did she now +feel it!</p> + +<p>She was wild to be at home—to hear, to see, to be upon the spot to +share with Jane in the cares that must now fall wholly upon her, in a +family so deranged; a father absent, a mother incapable of exertion, and +requiring constant attendance; and though almost persuaded that nothing +could be done for Lydia, her uncle’s interference seemed of the utmost +importance, and till he entered the room the misery of her impatience +was severe. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had hurried back in alarm, supposing, +by the servant’s account, that their niece was taken suddenly ill; but +satisfying them instantly on that head, she eagerly communicated the +cause of their summons, reading the two letters aloud,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_344">{344}</a></span> and dwelling on +the postscript of the last with trembling energy. Though Lydia had never +been a favourite with them, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner could not but be +deeply affected. Not Lydia only, but all were concerned in it; and after +the first exclamations of surprise and horror, Mr. Gardiner readily +promised every assistance in his power. Elizabeth, though expecting no +less, thanked him with tears of gratitude; and all three being actuated +by one spirit, everything relating to their journey was speedily +settled. They were to be off as soon as possible. “But what is to be +done about Pemberley?” cried Mrs. Gardiner. “John told us Mr. Darcy was +here when you sent for us;—was it so?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; and I told him we should not be able to keep our engagement. +<i>That</i> is all settled.”</p> + +<p>“What is all settled?” repeated the other, as she ran into her room to +prepare. “And are they upon such terms as for her to disclose the real +truth? Oh, that I knew how it was!”</p> + +<p>But wishes were vain; or, at best, could serve only to amuse her in the +hurry and confusion of the following hour. Had Elizabeth been at leisure +to be idle, she would have remained certain that all employment was +impossible to one so wretched as herself; but she had her share of +business as well as her aunt, and amongst the rest there were notes to +be written to all their friends at Lambton, with false excuses for their +sudden departure. An hour, however, saw the whole completed; and Mr. +Gardiner, meanwhile, having settled his account at the inn, nothing +remained to be done but to go; and Elizabeth, after all the misery of +the morning, found herself, in a shorter space of time than she could +have supposed, seated in the carriage, and on the road to Longbourn.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_345">{345}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XLVII"></a><img src="images/i_374_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“The first pleasing earnest of their welcome.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XLVII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +“<img src="images/i_374_b.png" +width="100" +alt="I"></span> HAVE been thinking it over again, Elizabeth,” said her uncle, as they +drove from the town; “and really, upon serious consideration, I am much +more inclined than I was to judge as your eldest sister does of the +matter. It appears to me so very unlikely that any young man should form +such a design against a girl who is by no means unprotected or +friendless, and who was actually staying in his Colonel’s family, that I +am strongly inclined to hope the best. Could he expect that her friends +would not step forward? Could he expect to be noticed again by the +regiment, after such an affront to Colonel Forster? His temptation is +not adequate to the risk.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_346">{346}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Do you really think so?” cried Elizabeth, brightening up for a moment.</p> + +<p>“Upon my word,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “I begin to be of your uncle’s +opinion. It is really too great a violation of decency, honour, and +interest, for him to be guilty of it. I cannot think so very ill of +Wickham. Can you, yourself, Lizzie, so wholly give him up, as to believe +him capable of it?”</p> + +<p>“Not perhaps of neglecting his own interest. But of every other neglect +I can believe him capable. If, indeed, it should be so! But I dare not +hope it. Why should they not go on to Scotland, if that had been the +case?”</p> + +<p>“In the first place,” replied Mr. Gardiner, “there is no absolute proof +that they are not gone to Scotland.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but their removing from the chaise into a hackney coach is such a +presumption! And, besides, no traces of them were to be found on the +Barnet road.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then,—supposing them to be in London—they may be there, though +for the purpose of concealment, for no more exceptionable purpose. It is +not likely that money should be very abundant on either side; and it +might strike them that they could be more economically, though less +expeditiously, married in London, than in Scotland.”</p> + +<p>“But why all this secrecy? Why any fear of detection? Why must their +marriage be private? Oh, no, no—this is not likely. His most particular +friend, you see by Jane’s account, was persuaded of his never intending +to marry her. Wickham will never marry a woman without some money. He +cannot afford it. And what claims has Lydia, what attractions has she +beyond youth, health, and good humour, that could make him for her sake<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_347">{347}</a></span> +forego every chance of benefiting himself by marrying well? As to what +restraint the apprehensions of disgrace in the corps might throw on a +dishonourable elopement with her, I am not able to judge; for I know +nothing of the effects that such a step might produce. But as to your +other objection, I am afraid it will hardly hold good. Lydia has no +brothers to step forward; and he might imagine, from my father’s +behaviour, from his indolence and the little attention he has ever +seemed to give to what was going forward in his family, that <i>he</i> would +do as little and think as little about it, as any father could do, in +such a matter.”</p> + +<p>“But can you think that Lydia is so lost to everything but love of him, +as to consent to live with him on any other terms than marriage?”</p> + +<p>“It does seem, and it is most shocking, indeed,” replied Elizabeth, with +tears in her eyes, “that a sister’s sense of decency and virtue in such +a point should admit of doubt. But, really, I know not what to say. +Perhaps I am not doing her justice. But she is very young: she has never +been taught to think on serious subjects; and for the last half year, +nay, for a twelvemonth, she has been given up to nothing but amusement +and vanity. She has been allowed to dispose of her time in the most idle +and frivolous manner, and to adopt any opinions that came in her way. +Since the ——shire were first quartered in Meryton, nothing but love, +flirtation, and officers, have been in her head. She has been doing +everything in her power, by thinking and talking on the subject, to give +greater—what shall I call it?—susceptibility to her feelings; which +are naturally lively enough. And we all know that Wickham has every +charm of person and address that can captivate a woman.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_348">{348}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“But you see that Jane,” said her aunt, “does not think so ill of +Wickham, as to believe him capable of the attempt.”</p> + +<p>“Of whom does Jane ever think ill? And who is there, whatever might be +their former conduct, that she would believe capable of such an attempt, +till it were proved against them? But Jane knows, as well as I do, what +Wickham really is. We both know that he has been profligate in every +sense of the word; that he has neither integrity nor honour; that he is +as false and deceitful as he is insinuating.”</p> + +<p>“And do you really know all this?” cried Mrs. Gardiner, whose curiosity +as to the mode of her intelligence was all alive.</p> + +<p>“I do, indeed,” replied Elizabeth, colouring. “I told you the other day +of his infamous behaviour to Mr. Darcy; and you, yourself, when last at +Longbourn, heard in what manner he spoke of the man who had behaved with +such forbearance and liberality towards him. And there are other +circumstances which I am not at liberty—which it is not worth while to +relate; but his lies about the whole Pemberley family are endless. From +what he said of Miss Darcy, I was thoroughly prepared to see a proud, +reserved, disagreeable girl. Yet he knew to the contrary himself. He +must know that she was as amiable and unpretending as we have found +her.”</p> + +<p>“But does Lydia know nothing of this? can she be ignorant of what you +and Jane seem so well to understand?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes!—that, that is the worst of all. Till I was in Kent, and saw +so much both of Mr. Darcy and his relation Colonel Fitzwilliam, I was +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_349">{349}</a></span>ignorant of the truth myself. And when I returned home the ——shire +was to leave Meryton in a week or fortnight’s time. As that was the +case, neither Jane, to whom I related the whole, nor I, thought it +necessary to make our knowledge public; for of what use could it +apparently be to anyone, that the good opinion, which all the +neighbourhood had of him, should then be overthrown? And even when it +was settled that Lydia should go with Mrs. Forster, the necessity of +opening her eyes to his character never occurred to me. That <i>she</i> could +be in any danger from the deception never entered my head. That such a +consequence as <i>this</i> should ensue, you may easily believe was far +enough from my thoughts.”</p> + +<p>“When they all removed to Brighton, therefore, you had no reason, I +suppose, to believe them fond of each other?”</p> + +<p>“Not the slightest. I can remember no symptom of affection on either +side; and had anything of the kind been perceptible, you must be aware +that ours is not a family on which it could be thrown away. When first +he entered the corps, she was ready enough to admire him; but so we all +were. Every girl in or near Meryton was out of her senses about him for +the first two months: but he never distinguished <i>her</i> by any particular +attention; and, consequently, after a moderate period of extravagant and +wild admiration, her fancy for him gave way, and others of the regiment, +who treated her with more distinction, again became her favourites.”</p> + +<p>It may be easily believed, that however little of novelty could be added +to their fears, hopes, and conjectures, on this interesting subject by +its repeated discussion, no other could detain them from it long, during +the whole of the journey. From Elizabeth’s thoughts it was never absent. +Fixed there by the keenest of all anguish,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_350">{350}</a></span> self-reproach, she could +find no interval of ease or forgetfulness.</p> + +<p>They travelled as expeditiously as possible; and sleeping one night on +the road, reached Longbourn by dinnertime the next day. It was a comfort +to Elizabeth to consider that Jane could not have been wearied by long +expectations.</p> + +<p>The little Gardiners, attracted by the sight of a chaise, were standing +on the steps of the house, as they entered the paddock; and when the +carriage drove up to the door, the joyful surprise that lighted up their +faces and displayed itself over their whole bodies, in a variety of +capers and frisks, was the first pleasing earnest of their welcome.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth jumped out; and after giving each of them a hasty kiss, +hurried into the vestibule, where Jane, who came running downstairs from +her mother’s apartment, immediately met her.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, as she affectionately embraced her, whilst tears filled the +eyes of both, lost not a moment in asking whether anything had been +heard of the fugitives.</p> + +<p>“Not yet,” replied Jane. “But now that my dear uncle is come, I hope +everything will be well.”</p> + +<p>“Is my father in town?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, he went on Tuesday, as I wrote you word.”</p> + +<p>“And have you heard from him often?”</p> + +<p>“We have heard only once. He wrote me a few lines on Wednesday, to say +that he had arrived in safety, and to give me his directions, which I +particularly begged him to do. He merely added, that he should not write +again, till he had something of importance to mention.”</p> + +<p>“And my mother—how is she? How are you all?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_351">{351}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“My mother is tolerably well, I trust; though her spirits are greatly +shaken. She is upstairs, and will have great satisfaction in seeing you +all. She does not yet leave her dressing-room. Mary and Kitty, thank +Heaven! are quite well.”</p> + +<p>“But you—how are you?” cried Elizabeth. “You look pale. How much you +must have gone through!”</p> + +<p>Her sister, however, assured her of her being perfectly well; and their +conversation, which had been passing while Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were +engaged with their children, was now put an end to by the approach of +the whole party. Jane ran to her uncle and aunt, and welcomed and +thanked them both, with alternate smiles and tears.</p> + +<p>When they were all in the drawing-room, the questions which Elizabeth +had already asked were of course repeated by the others, and they soon +found that Jane had no intelligence to give. The sanguine hope of good, +however, which the benevolence of her heart suggested, had not yet +deserted her; she still expected that it would all end well, and that +every morning would bring some letter, either from Lydia or her father, +to explain their proceedings, and, perhaps, announce the marriage.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet, to whose apartment they all repaired, after a few minutes’ +conversation together, received them exactly as might be expected; with +tears and lamentations of regret, invectives against the villainous +conduct of Wickham, and complaints of her own sufferings and ill-usage; +blaming everybody but the person to whose ill-judging indulgence the +errors of her daughter must be principally owing.</p> + +<p>“If I had been able,” said she, “to carry my point in going to Brighton +with all my family, <i>this</i> would not<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_352">{352}</a></span> have happened: but poor dear Lydia +had nobody to take care of her. Why did the Forsters ever let her go out +of their sight? I am sure there was some great neglect or other on their +side, for she is not the kind of girl to do such a thing, if she had +been well looked after. I always thought they were very unfit to have +the charge of her; but I was over-ruled, as I always am. Poor, dear +child! And now here’s Mr. Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight +Wickham, wherever he meets him, and then he will be killed, and what is +to become of us all? The Collinses will turn us out, before he is cold +in his grave; and if you are not kind to us, brother, I do not know what +we shall do.”</p> + +<p>They all exclaimed against such terrific ideas; and Mr. Gardiner, after +general assurances of his affection for her and all her family, told her +that he meant to be in London the very next day, and would assist Mr. +Bennet in every endeavour for recovering Lydia.</p> + +<p>“Do not give way to useless alarm,” added he: “though it is right to be +prepared for the worst, there is no occasion to look on it as certain. +It is not quite a week since they left Brighton. In a few days more, we +may gain some news of them; and till we know that they are not married, +and have no design of marrying, do not let us give the matter over as +lost. As soon as I get to town, I shall go to my brother, and make him +come home with me to Gracechurch Street, and then we may consult +together as to what is to be done.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear brother,” replied Mrs. Bennet, “that is exactly what I +could most wish for. And now do, when you get to town, find them out, +wherever they may be; and if they are not married already, <i>make</i> them +marry. And as for wedding clothes, do not let them wait for that,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_353">{353}</a></span> but +tell Lydia she shall have as much money as she chooses to buy them, +after they are married. And, above all things, keep Mr. Bennet from +fighting. Tell him what a dreadful state I am in—that I am frightened +out of my wits; and have such tremblings, such flutterings all over me, +such spasms in my side, and pains in my head, and such beatings at my +heart, that I can get no rest by night nor by day. And tell my dear +Lydia not to give any directions about her clothes till she has seen me, +for she does not know which are the best warehouses. Oh, brother, how +kind you are! I know you will contrive it all.”</p> + +<p>But Mr. Gardiner, though he assured her again of his earnest endeavours +in the cause, could not avoid recommending moderation to her, as well in +her hopes as her fears; and after talking with her in this manner till +dinner was on table, they left her to vent all her feelings on the +housekeeper, who attended in the absence of her daughters.</p> + +<p>Though her brother and sister were persuaded that there was no real +occasion for such a seclusion from the family, they did not attempt to +oppose it; for they knew that she had not prudence enough to hold her +tongue before the servants, while they waited at table, and judged it +better that <i>one</i> only of the household, and the one whom they could +most trust, should comprehend all her fears and solicitude on the +subject.</p> + +<p>In the dining-room they were soon joined by Mary and Kitty, who had been +too busily engaged in their separate apartments to make their appearance +before. One came from her books, and the other from her toilette. The +faces of both, however, were tolerably calm; and no change was visible +in either, except that the loss of her<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_354">{354}</a></span> favourite sister, or the anger +which she had herself incurred in the business, had given something more +of fretfulness than usual to the accents of Kitty. As for Mary, she was +mistress enough of herself to whisper to Elizabeth, with a countenance +of grave reflection, soon after they were seated at table,—</p> + +<p>“This is a most unfortunate affair, and will probably be much talked of. +But we must stem the tide of malice, and pour into the wounded bosoms of +each other the balm of sisterly consolation.”</p> + +<p>Then perceiving in Elizabeth no inclination of replying, she added, +“Unhappy as the event must be for Lydia, we may draw from it this useful +lesson:—that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable, that one +false step involves her in endless ruin, that her reputation is no less +brittle than it is beautiful, and that she cannot be too much guarded in +her behaviour towards the undeserving of the other sex.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth lifted up her eyes in amazement, but was too much oppressed to +make any reply. Mary, however, continued to console herself with such +kind of moral extractions from the evil before them.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon, the two elder Miss Bennets were able to be for half an +hour by themselves; and Elizabeth instantly availed herself of the +opportunity of making any inquiries which Jane was equally eager to +satisfy. After joining in general lamentations over the dreadful sequel +of this event, which Elizabeth considered as all but certain, and Miss +Bennet could not assert to be wholly impossible, the former continued +the subject by saying, “But tell me all and everything about it which I +have not already heard. Give me further particulars. What did Colonel +Forster say? Had they no<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_355">{355}</a></span> apprehension of anything before the elopement +took place? They must have seen them together for ever.”</p> + +<p>“Colonel Forster did own that he had often suspected some partiality, +especially on Lydia’s side, but nothing to give him any alarm. I am so +grieved for him. His behaviour was attentive and kind to the utmost. He +<i>was</i> coming to us, in order to assure us of his concern, before he had +any idea of their not being gone to Scotland: when that apprehension +first got abroad, it hastened his journey.”</p> + +<p>“And was Denny convinced that Wickham would not marry? Did he know of +their intending to go off? Had Colonel Forster seen Denny himself?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but when questioned by <i>him</i>, Denny denied knowing anything of +their plan, and would not give his real opinion about it. He did not +repeat his persuasion of their not marrying, and from <i>that</i> I am +inclined to hope he might have been misunderstood before.”</p> + +<p>“And till Colonel Forster came himself, not one of you entertained a +doubt, I suppose, of their being really married?”</p> + +<p>“How was it possible that such an idea should enter our brains? I felt a +little uneasy—a little fearful of my sister’s happiness with him in +marriage, because I knew that his conduct had not been always quite +right. My father and mother knew nothing of that; they only felt how +imprudent a match it must be. Kitty then owned, with a very natural +triumph on knowing more than the rest of us, that in Lydia’s last letter +she had prepared her for such a step. She had known, it seems, of their +being in love with each other many weeks.”</p> + +<p>“But not before they went to Brighton?”</p> + +<p>“No, I believe not.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_356">{356}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“And did Colonel Forster appear to think ill of Wickham himself? Does he +know his real character?”</p> + +<p>“I must confess that he did not speak so well of Wickham as he formerly +did. He believed him to be imprudent and extravagant; and since this sad +affair has taken place, it is said that he left Meryton greatly in debt: +but I hope this may be false.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Jane, had we been less secret, had we told what we knew of him, +this could not have happened!”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it would have been better,” replied her sister.</p> + +<p>“But to expose the former faults of any person, without knowing what +their present feelings were, seemed unjustifiable.”</p> + +<p>“We acted with the best intentions.”</p> + +<p>“Could Colonel Forster repeat the particulars of Lydia’s note to his +wife?”</p> + +<p>“He brought it with him for us to see.”</p> + +<p>Jane then took it from her pocket-book, and gave it to Elizabeth. These +were the contents:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind">“My dear Harriet,</p> + +<p>“You will laugh when you know where I am gone, and I cannot help +laughing myself at your surprise to-morrow morning, as soon as I am +missed. I am going to Gretna Green, and if you cannot guess with +who, I shall think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in the +world I love, and he is an angel. I should never be happy without +him, so think it no harm to be off. You need not send them word at +Longbourn of my going, if you do not like it, for it will make the +surprise the greater when I write to them, and sign my name Lydia +Wickham. What a good joke it will be! I can hardly write for +laughing. Pray make my excuses to Pratt for not keeping my +engagement, and dancing with him to-night.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_357">{357}</a></span> Tell him I hope he will +excuse me when he knows all, and tell him I will dance with him at +the next ball we meet with great pleasure. I shall send for my +clothes when I get to Longbourn; but I wish you would tell Sally to +mend a great slit in my worked muslin gown before they are packed +up. Good-bye. Give my love to Colonel Forster. I hope you will +drink to our good journey.</p> + +<p class="r"> +“Your affectionate friend,<br> +<br> +“<span class="smcap">Lydia Bennet</span>.”<br> +</p></div> + +<p>“Oh, thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia!” cried Elizabeth when she had +finished it. “What a letter is this, to be written at such a moment! But +at least it shows that <i>she</i> was serious in the object of her journey. +Whatever he might afterwards persuade her to, it was not on her side a +<i>scheme</i> of infamy. My poor father! how he must have felt it!”</p> + +<p>“I never saw anyone so shocked. He could not speak a word for full ten +minutes. My mother was taken ill immediately, and the whole house in +such confusion!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Jane,” cried Elizabeth, “was there a servant belonging to it who +did not know the whole story before the end of the day?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know: I hope there was. But to be guarded at such a time is +very difficult. My mother was in hysterics; and though I endeavoured to +give her every assistance in my power, I am afraid I did not do so much +as I might have done. But the horror of what might possibly happen +almost took from me my faculties.”</p> + +<p>“Your attendance upon her has been too much for you. You do not look +well. Oh that I had been with you! you have had every care and anxiety +upon yourself alone.”</p> + +<p>“Mary and Kitty have been very kind, and would have shared in every +fatigue, I am sure, but I did not think it<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_358">{358}</a></span> right for either of them. +Kitty is slight and delicate, and Mary studies so much that her hours of +repose should not be broken in on. My aunt Philips came to Longbourn on +Tuesday, after my father went away; and was so good as to stay till +Thursday with me. She was of great use and comfort to us all, and Lady +Lucas has been very kind: she walked here on Wednesday morning to +condole with us, and offered her services, or any of her daughters, if +they could be of use to us.”</p> + +<p>“She had better have stayed at home,” cried Elizabeth: “perhaps she +<i>meant</i> well, but, under such a misfortune as this, one cannot see too +little of one’s neighbours. Assistance is impossible; condolence, +insufferable. Let them triumph over us at a distance, and be satisfied.”</p> + +<p>She then proceeded to inquire into the measures which her father had +intended to pursue, while in town, for the recovery of his daughter.</p> + +<p>“He meant, I believe,” replied Jane, “to go to Epsom, the place where +they last changed horses, see the postilions, and try if anything could +be made out from them. His principal object must be to discover the +number of the hackney coach which took them from Clapham. It had come +with a fare from London; and as he thought the circumstance of a +gentleman and lady’s removing from one carriage into another might be +remarked, he meant to make inquiries at Clapham. If he could anyhow +discover at what house the coachman had before set down his fare, he +determined to make inquiries there, and hoped it might not be impossible +to find out the stand and number of the coach. I do not know of any +other designs that he had formed; but he was in such a hurry to be gone, +and his spirits so greatly discomposed, that I had difficulty in finding +out even so much as this.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_359">{359}</a></span>”</p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_XLVIII"></a><img src="images/i_388_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“The Post.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_388_b.png" +width="100" +alt="T"></span>HE whole party were in hopes of a letter from Mr. Bennet the next +morning, but the post came in without bringing a single line from him. +His family knew him to be, on all common occasions, a most negligent and +dilatory correspondent; but at such a time they had hoped for exertion. +They were forced to conclude, that he had no pleasing intelligence to +send; but even of <i>that</i> they would have been glad to be certain. Mr. +Gardiner had waited only for the letters before he set off.</p> + +<p>When he was gone, they were certain at least of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_360">{360}</a></span> receiving constant +information of what was going on; and their uncle promised, at parting, +to prevail on Mr. Bennet to return to Longbourn as soon as he could, to +the great consolation of his sister, who considered it as the only +security for her husband’s not being killed in a duel.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gardiner and the children were to remain in Hertfordshire a few +days longer, as the former thought her presence might be serviceable to +her nieces. She shared in their attendance on Mrs. Bennet, and was a +great comfort to them in their hours of freedom. Their other aunt also +visited them frequently, and always, as she said, with the design of +cheering and heartening them up—though, as she never came without +reporting some fresh instance of Wickham’s extravagance or irregularity, +she seldom went away without leaving them more dispirited than she found +them.</p> + +<p>All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man who, but three months +before, had been almost an angel of light. He was declared to be in debt +to every tradesman in the place, and his intrigues, all honoured with +the title of seduction, had been extended into every tradesman’s family. +Everybody declared that he was the wickedest young man in the world; and +everybody began to find out that they had always distrusted the +appearance of his goodness. Elizabeth, though she did not credit above +half of what was said, believed enough to make her former assurance of +her sister’s ruin still more certain; and even Jane, who believed still +less of it, became almost hopeless, more especially as the time was now +come, when, if they had gone to Scotland, which she had never before +entirely despaired of, they must in all probability have gained some +news of them.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_361">{361}</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Gardiner left Longbourn on Sunday; on Tuesday, his wife received a +letter from him: it told them, that on his arrival he had immediately +found out his brother, and persuaded him to come to Gracechurch Street. +That Mr. Bennet had been to Epsom and Clapham, before his arrival, but +without gaining any satisfactory information; and that he was now +determined to inquire at all the principal hotels in town, as Mr. Bennet +thought it possible they might have gone to one of them, on their first +coming to London, before they procured lodgings. Mr. Gardiner himself +did not expect any success from this measure; but as his brother was +eager in it, he meant to assist him in pursuing it. He added, that Mr. +Bennet seemed wholly disinclined at present to leave London, and +promised to write again very soon. There was also a postscript to this +effect:—</p> + +<p>“I have written to Colonel Forster to desire him to find out, if +possible, from some of the young man’s intimates in the regiment, +whether Wickham has any relations or connections who would be likely to +know in what part of the town he has now concealed himself. If there +were anyone that one could apply to, with a probability of gaining such +a clue as that, it might be of essential consequence. At present we have +nothing to guide us. Colonel Forster will, I dare say, do everything in +his power to satisfy us on this head. But, on second thoughts, perhaps +Lizzy could tell us what relations he has now living better than any +other person.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was at no loss to understand from whence this deference for +her authority proceeded; but it was not in her power to give any +information of so satisfactory a nature as the compliment deserved.</p> + +<p>She had never heard of his having had any relations,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_362">{362}</a></span> except a father +and mother, both of whom had been dead many years. It was possible, +however, that some of his companions in the ——shire might be able to +give more information; and though she was not very sanguine in expecting +it, the application was a something to look forward to.</p> + +<p>Every day at Longbourn was now a day of anxiety; but the most anxious +part of each was when the post was expected. The arrival of letters was +the first grand object of every morning’s impatience. Through letters, +whatever of good or bad was to be told would be communicated; and every +succeeding day was expected to bring some news of importance.</p> + +<p>But before they heard again from Mr. Gardiner, a letter arrived for +their father, from a different quarter, from Mr. Collins; which, as Jane +had received directions to open all that came for him in his absence, +she accordingly read; and Elizabeth, who knew what curiosities his +letters always were, looked over her, and read it likewise. It was as +follows:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind">“My dear Sir,</p> + +<p>“I feel myself called upon, by our relationship, and my situation +in life, to condole with you on the grievous affliction you are now +suffering under, of which we were yesterday informed by a letter +from Hertfordshire. Be assured, my dear sir, that Mrs. Collins and +myself sincerely sympathize with you, and all your respectable +family, in your present distress, which must be of the bitterest +kind, because proceeding from a cause which no time can remove. No +arguments shall be wanting on my part, that can alleviate so severe +a misfortune; or that may comfort you, under a circumstance that +must be, of all others, most afflicting to a parent’s mind.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_363">{363}</a></span> The +death of your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison of +this. And it is the more to be lamented, because there is reason to +suppose, as my dear Charlotte informs me, that this licentiousness +of behaviour in your</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 529px;"> +<img src="images/i_392.jpg" width="529" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<p> +“To whom I have related the affair”<br> +</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="nind">daughter has proceeded from a faulty degree of indulgence; though, +at the same time, for the consolation of yourself and Mrs. Bennet, +I am inclined to think that her own disposition must be naturally +bad, or she could not be guilty of such an enormity, at so early an +age. Howsoever that may be, you are grievously to be pitied;<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_364">{364}</a></span> in +which opinion I am not only joined by Mrs. Collins, but likewise by +Lady Catherine and her daughter, to whom I have related the affair. +They agree with me in apprehending that this false step in one +daughter will be injurious to the fortunes of all the others: for +who, as Lady Catherine herself condescendingly says, will connect +themselves with such a family? And this consideration leads me, +moreover, to reflect, with augmented satisfaction, on a certain +event of last November; for had it been otherwise, I must have been +involved in all your sorrow and disgrace. Let me advise you, then, +my dear sir, to console yourself as much as possible, to throw off +your unworthy child from your affection for ever, and leave her to +reap the fruits of her own heinous offence.</p> + +<p> +“I am, dear sir,” etc., etc.<br> +</p></div> + +<p>Mr. Gardiner did not write again, till he had received an answer from +Colonel Forster; and then he had nothing of a pleasant nature to send. +It was not known that Wickham had a single relation with whom he kept up +any connection, and it was certain that he had no near one living. His +former acquaintance had been numerous; but since he had been in the +militia, it did not appear that he was on terms of particular friendship +with any of them. There was no one, therefore, who could be pointed out +as likely to give any news of him. And in the wretched state of his own +finances, there was a very powerful motive for secrecy, in addition to +his fear of discovery by Lydia’s relations; for it had just transpired +that he had left gaming debts behind him to a very considerable amount. +Colonel Forster believed that more than a thousand pounds would be +necessary to clear his expenses at Brighton. He owed a good deal<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_365">{365}</a></span> in the +town, but his debts of honour were still more formidable. Mr. Gardiner +did not attempt to conceal these particulars from the Longbourn family; +Jane heard them with horror. “A gamester!” she cried. “This is wholly +unexpected; I had not an idea of it.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gardiner added, in his letter, that they might expect to see their +father at home on the following day, which was Saturday. Rendered +spiritless by the ill success of all their endeavours, he had yielded to +his brother-in-law’s entreaty that he would return to his family and +leave it to him to do whatever occasion might suggest to be advisable +for continuing their pursuit. When Mrs. Bennet was told of this, she did +not express so much satisfaction as her children expected, considering +what her anxiety for his life had been before.</p> + +<p>“What! is he coming home, and without poor Lydia?” she cried. “Sure he +will not leave London before he has found them. Who is to fight Wickham, +and make him marry her, if he comes away?”</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Gardiner began to wish to be at home, it was settled that she +and her children should go to London at the same time that Mr. Bennet +came from it. The coach, therefore, took them the first stage of their +journey, and brought its master back to Longbourn.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gardiner went away in all the perplexity about Elizabeth and her +Derbyshire friend, that had attended her from that part of the world. +His name had never been voluntarily mentioned before them by her niece; +and the kind of half-expectation which Mrs. Gardiner had formed, of +their being followed by a letter from him, had ended in nothing. +Elizabeth had received none since her return, that could come from +Pemberley.</p> + +<p>The present unhappy state of the family rendered any<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_366">{366}</a></span> other excuse for +the lowness of her spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be +fairly conjectured from <i>that</i>,—though Elizabeth, who was by this time +tolerably well acquainted with her own feelings, was perfectly aware +that, had she known nothing of Darcy, she could have borne the dread of +Lydia’s infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her, she thought, +one sleepless night out of two.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the appearance of his usual +philosophic composure. He said as little as he had ever been in the +habit of saying; made no mention of the business that had taken him +away; and it was some time before his daughters had courage to speak of +it.</p> + +<p>It was not till the afternoon, when he joined them at tea, that +Elizabeth ventured to introduce the subject; and then, on her briefly +expressing her sorrow for what he must have endured, he replied, “Say +nothing of that. Who should suffer but myself? It has been my own doing, +and I ought to feel it.”</p> + +<p>“You must not be too severe upon yourself,” replied Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>“You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is so prone to +fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have +been to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression. +It will pass away soon enough.”</p> + +<p>“Do you suppose them to be in London?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; where else can they be so well concealed?”</p> + +<p>“And Lydia used to want to go to London,” added Kitty.</p> + +<p>“She is happy, then,” said her father, drily; “and her residence there +will probably be of some duration.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_367">{367}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Then, after a short silence, he continued, “Lizzy, I bear you no +ill-will for being justified in your advice to me last May, which, +considering the event, shows some greatness of mind.”</p> + +<p>They were interrupted by Miss Bennet, who came to fetch her mother’s +tea.</p> + +<p>“This is a parade,” cried he, “which does one good; it gives such an +elegance to misfortune! Another day I will do the same; I will sit in my +library, in my nightcap and powdering gown, and give as much trouble as +I can,—or perhaps I may defer it till Kitty runs away.”</p> + +<p>“I am not going to run away, papa,” said Kitty, fretfully. “If <i>I</i> +should ever go to Brighton, I would behave better than Lydia.”</p> + +<p>“<i>You</i> go to Brighton! I would not trust you so near it as Eastbourne, +for fifty pounds! No, Kitty, I have at least learnt to be cautious, and +you will feel the effects of it. No officer is ever to enter my house +again, nor even to pass through the village. Balls will be absolutely +prohibited, unless you stand up with one of your sisters. And you are +never to stir out of doors, till you can prove that you have spent ten +minutes of every day in a rational manner.”</p> + +<p>Kitty, who took all these threats in a serious light, began to cry.</p> + +<p>“Well, well,” said he, “do not make yourself unhappy. If you are a good +girl for the next ten years, I will take you to a review at the end of +them.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_368">{368}</a></span>”</p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_XLIX"></a><img src="images/i_397_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER XLIX.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_397_b.png" +width="100" +alt="T"></span>WO days after Mr. Bennet’s return, as Jane and Elizabeth were walking +together in the shrubbery behind the house, they saw the housekeeper +coming towards them, and concluding that she came to call them to their +mother, went forward to meet her; but instead of the expected summons, +when they approached her, she said to Miss Bennet, “I beg your pardon, +madam, for interrupting you, but I was in hopes you might have got some +good news from town, so I took the liberty of coming to ask.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Hill? We have heard nothing from town.”</p> + +<p>“Dear madam,” cried Mrs. Hill, in great astonishment, “don’t you know +there is an express come for master<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_369">{369}</a></span> from Mr. Gardiner? He has been here +this half hour, and master has had a letter.”</p> + +<p>Away ran the girls, too eager to get in to have time for speech. They +ran through the vestibule into the breakfast-room; from thence to the +library;—their father was in neither; and they were on the point of +seeking him upstairs with their mother, when they were met by the +butler, who said,—</p> + +<p>“If you are looking for my master, ma’am, he is walking towards the +little copse.”</p> + +<p>Upon this information, they instantly passed through the hall once more, +and ran across the lawn after their father, who was deliberately +pursuing his way towards a small wood on one side of the paddock.</p> + +<p>Jane, who was not so light, nor so much in the habit of running as +Elizabeth, soon lagged behind, while her sister, panting for breath, +came up with him, and eagerly cried out,—</p> + +<p>“Oh, papa, what news? what news? have you heard from my uncle?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have had a letter from him by express.”</p> + +<p>“Well, and what news does it bring—good or bad?”</p> + +<p>“What is there of good to be expected?” said he, taking the letter from +his pocket; “but perhaps you would like to read it.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand. Jane now came up.</p> + +<p>“Read it aloud,” said their father, “for I hardly know myself what it is +about.”</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="rt">“Gracechurch Street, <i>Monday, August 2</i>.</p> + +<p class="nind"> +“My dear Brother,<br> +</p> + +<p>“At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece, and such +as, upon the whole, I hope will give<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_370">{370}</a></span> you satisfaction. Soon after +you left me on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to find out in what +part of London they were. The particulars I reserve till we meet. +It is enough to know they are discovered: I have seen them +both——”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 480px;"> +<img src="images/i_399.jpg" width="480" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<p> +“But perhaps you would like to read it”<br> +</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p>“Then it is as I always hoped,” cried Jane: “they are married!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_371">{371}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth read on: “I have seen them both. They are not married, +nor can I find there was any intention of being so; but if you are +willing to perform the engagements which I have ventured to make on +your side, I hope it will not be long before they are. All that is +required of you is, to assure to your daughter, by settlement, her +equal share of the five thousand pounds, secured among your +children after the decease of yourself and my sister; and, +moreover, to enter into an engagement of allowing her, during your +life, one hundred pounds per annum. These are conditions which, +considering everything, I had no hesitation in complying with, as +far as I thought myself privileged, for you. I shall send this by +express, that no time may be lost in bringing me your answer. You +will easily comprehend, from these particulars, that Mr. Wickham’s +circumstances are not so hopeless as they are generally believed to +be. The world has been deceived in that respect; and I am happy to +say, there will be some little money, even when all his debts are +discharged, to settle on my niece, in addition to her own fortune. +If, as I conclude will be the case, you send me full powers to act +in your name throughout the whole of this business, I will +immediately give directions to Haggerston for preparing a proper +settlement. There will not be the smallest occasion for your coming +to town again; therefore stay quietly at Longbourn, and depend on +my diligence and care. Send back your answer as soon as you can, +and be careful to write explicitly. We have judged it best that my +niece should be married from this house, of which I hope you will +approve. She comes to us to-day. I shall write again as soon as +anything more is determined on. Yours, etc.</p> + +<p class="r"> +“<span class="smcap">Edw. Gardiner</span>.”<br> +<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_372">{372}</a></span></p></div> + +<p>“Is it possible?” cried Elizabeth, when she had finished. “Can it be +possible that he will marry her?”</p> + +<p>“Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we have thought him,” said her +sister. “My dear father, I congratulate you.”</p> + +<p>“And have you answered the letter?” said Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>“No; but it must be done soon.”</p> + +<p>Most earnestly did she then entreat him to lose no more time before he +wrote.</p> + +<p>“Oh! my dear father,” she cried, “come back and write immediately. +Consider how important every moment is in such a case.”</p> + +<p>“Let me write for you,” said Jane, “if you dislike the trouble +yourself.”</p> + +<p>“I dislike it very much,” he replied; “but it must be done.”</p> + +<p>And so saying, he turned back with them, and walked towards the house.</p> + +<p>“And—may I ask?” said Elizabeth; “but the terms, I suppose, must be +complied with.”</p> + +<p>“Complied with! I am only ashamed of his asking so little.”</p> + +<p>“And they <i>must</i> marry! Yet he is <i>such</i> a man.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, they must marry. There is nothing else to be done. But there +are two things that I want very much to know:—one is, how much money +your uncle has laid down to bring it about; and the other, how I am ever +to pay him.”</p> + +<p>“Money! my uncle!” cried Jane, “what do you mean, sir?”</p> + +<p>“I mean that no man in his proper senses would marry Lydia on so slight +a temptation as one hundred a year during my life, and fifty after I am +gone.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_373">{373}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“That is very true,” said Elizabeth; “though it had not occurred to me +before. His debts to be discharged, and something still to remain! Oh, +it must be my uncle’s doings! Generous, good man, I am afraid he has +distressed himself. A small sum could not do all this.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said her father. “Wickham’s a fool if he takes her with a farthing +less than ten thousand pounds: I should be sorry to think so ill of him, +in the very beginning of our relationship.”</p> + +<p>“Ten thousand pounds! Heaven forbid! How is half such a sum to be +repaid?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bennet made no answer; and each of them, deep in thought, continued +silent till they reached the house. Their father then went to the +library to write, and the girls walked into the breakfast-room.</p> + +<p>“And they are really to be married!” cried Elizabeth, as soon as they +were by themselves. “How strange this is! and for <i>this</i> we are to be +thankful. That they should marry, small as is their chance of happiness, +and wretched as is his character, we are forced to rejoice! Oh, Lydia!”</p> + +<p>“I comfort myself with thinking,” replied Jane, “that he certainly would +not marry Lydia, if he had not a real regard for her. Though our kind +uncle has done something towards clearing him, I cannot believe that ten +thousand pounds, or anything like it, has been advanced. He has children +of his own, and may have more. How could he spare half ten thousand +pounds?”</p> + +<p>“If we are ever able to learn what Wickham’s debts have been,” said +Elizabeth, “and how much is settled on his side on our sister, we shall +exactly know what Mr. Gardiner has done for them, because Wickham has +not sixpence of his own. The kindness of my uncle and aunt can never be +requited. Their taking her home, and affording<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_374">{374}</a></span> her their personal +protection and countenance, is such a sacrifice to her advantage as +years of gratitude cannot enough acknowledge. By this time she is +actually with them! If such goodness does not make her miserable now, +she will never deserve to be happy! What a meeting for her, when she +first sees my aunt!”</p> + +<p>“We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either side,” said +Jane: “I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His consenting to marry +her is a proof, I will believe, that he is come to a right way of +thinking. Their mutual affection will steady them; and I flatter myself +they will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, as may in +time make their past imprudence forgotten.”</p> + +<p>“Their conduct has been such,” replied Elizabeth, “as neither you, nor +I, nor anybody, can ever forget. It is useless to talk of it.”</p> + +<p>It now occurred to the girls that their mother was in all likelihood +perfectly ignorant of what had happened. They went to the library, +therefore, and asked their father whether he would not wish them to make +it known to her. He was writing, and, without raising his head, coolly +replied,—</p> + +<p>“Just as you please.”</p> + +<p>“May we take my uncle’s letter to read to her?”</p> + +<p>“Take whatever you like, and get away.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth took the letter from his writing-table, and they went upstairs +together. Mary and Kitty were both with Mrs. Bennet: one communication +would, therefore, do for all. After a slight preparation for good news, +the letter was read aloud. Mrs. Bennet could hardly contain herself. As +soon as Jane had read Mr. Gardiner’s hope of Lydia’s being soon married, +her joy burst forth, and every following sentence added to its +exuberance. She<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_375">{375}</a></span> was now in an irritation as violent from delight as she +had ever been fidgety from alarm and vexation. To know that her daughter +would be married was enough. She was disturbed by no fear for her +felicity, nor humbled by any remembrance of her misconduct.</p> + +<p>“My dear, dear Lydia!” she cried: “this is delightful indeed! She will +be married! I shall see her again! She will be married at sixteen! My +good, kind brother! I knew how it would be—I knew he would manage +everything. How I long to see her! and to see dear Wickham too! But the +clothes, the wedding clothes! I will write to my sister Gardiner about +them directly. Lizzy, my dear, run down to your father, and ask him how +much he will give her. Stay, stay, I will go myself. Ring the bell, +Kitty, for Hill. I will put on my things in a moment. My dear, dear +Lydia! How merry we shall be together when we meet!”</p> + +<p>Her eldest daughter endeavoured to give some relief to the violence of +these transports, by leading her thoughts to the obligations which Mr. +Gardiner’s behaviour laid them all under.</p> + +<p>“For we must attribute this happy conclusion,” she added, “in a great +measure to his kindness. We are persuaded that he has pledged himself to +assist Mr. Wickham with money.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” cried her mother, “it is all very right; who should do it but +her own uncle? If he had not had a family of his own, I and my children +must have had all his money, you know; and it is the first time we have +ever had anything from him except a few presents. Well! I am so happy. +In a short time, I shall have a daughter married. Mrs. Wickham! How well +it sounds! And she was only sixteen last June. My dear Jane, I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_376">{376}</a></span> am in +such a flutter, that I am sure I can’t write; so I will dictate, and you +write for me. We will settle with your father about the money +afterwards; but the things should be ordered immediately.”</p> + +<p>She was then proceeding to all the particulars of calico, muslin, and +cambric, and would shortly have dictated some very plentiful orders, had +not Jane, though with some difficulty, persuaded her to wait till her +father was at leisure to be consulted. One day’s delay, she observed, +would be of small importance; and her mother was too happy to be quite +so obstinate as usual. Other schemes, too, came into her head.</p> + +<p>“I will go to Meryton,” said she, “as soon as I am dressed, and tell the +good, good news to my sister Philips. And as I come back, I can call on +Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long. Kitty, run down and order the carriage. An +airing would do me a great deal of good, I am sure. Girls, can I do +anything for you in Meryton? Oh! here comes Hill. My dear Hill, have you +heard the good news? Miss Lydia is going to be married; and you shall +all have a bowl of punch to make merry at her wedding.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hill began instantly to express her joy. Elizabeth received her +congratulations amongst the rest, and then, sick of this folly, took +refuge in her own room, that she might think with freedom. Poor Lydia’s +situation must, at best, be bad enough; but that it was no worse, she +had need to be thankful. She felt it so; and though, in looking forward, +neither rational happiness, nor worldly prosperity could be justly +expected for her sister, in looking back to what they had feared, only +two hours ago, she felt all the advantages of what they had gained.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_377">{377}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_L"></a><img src="images/i_406_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“The spiteful old ladies.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER L.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_406_b.png" +width="100" +alt="M"></span>R. BENNET had very often wished, before this period of his life, that, +instead of spending his whole income, he had laid by an annual sum, for +the better provision of his children, and of his wife, if she survived +him. He now wished it more than ever. Had he done his duty in that +respect, Lydia need not have been indebted to her uncle for whatever of +honour or credit could now be purchased for her. The satisfaction of +prevailing on one of the most worthless young<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_378">{378}</a></span> men in Great Britain to +be her husband might then have rested in its proper place.</p> + +<p>He was seriously concerned that a cause of so little advantage to anyone +should be forwarded at the sole expense of his brother-in-law; and he +was determined, if possible, to find out the extent of his assistance, +and to discharge the obligation as soon as he could.</p> + +<p>When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to be perfectly +useless; for, of course, they were to have a son. This son was to join +in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should be of age, and the widow +and younger children would by that means be provided for. Five daughters +successively entered the world, but yet the son was to come; and Mrs. +Bennet, for many years after Lydia’s birth, had been certain that he +would. This event had at last been despaired of, but it was then too +late to be saving. Mrs. Bennet had no turn for economy; and her +husband’s love of independence had alone prevented their exceeding their +income.</p> + +<p>Five thousand pounds was settled by marriage articles on Mrs. Bennet and +the children. But in what proportions it should be divided amongst the +latter depended on the will of the parents. This was one point, with +regard to Lydia at least, which was now to be settled, and Mr. Bennet +could have no hesitation in acceding to the proposal before him. In +terms of grateful acknowledgment for the kindness of his brother, though +expressed most concisely, he then delivered on paper his perfect +approbation of all that was done, and his willingness to fulfil the +engagements that had been made for him. He had never before supposed +that, could Wickham be prevailed on to marry his daughter, it would be +done with so little inconvenience to himself as by the present<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_379">{379}</a></span> +arrangement. He would scarcely be ten pounds a year the loser, by the +hundred that was to be paid them; for, what with her board and pocket +allowance, and the continual presents in money which passed to her +through her mother’s hands, Lydia’s expenses had been very little within +that sum.</p> + +<p>That it would be done with such trifling exertion on his side, too, was +another very welcome surprise; for his chief wish at present was to have +as little trouble in the business as possible. When the first transports +of rage which had produced his activity in seeking her were over, he +naturally returned to all his former indolence. His letter was soon +despatched; for though dilatory in undertaking business, he was quick in +its execution. He begged to know further particulars of what he was +indebted to his brother; but was too angry with Lydia to send any +message to her.</p> + +<p>The good news quickly spread through the house; and with proportionate +speed through the neighbourhood. It was borne in the latter with decent +philosophy. To be sure, it would have been more for the advantage of +conversation, had Miss Lydia Bennet come upon the town; or, as the +happiest alternative, been secluded from the world in some distant +farm-house. But there was much to be talked of, in marrying her; and the +good-natured wishes for her well-doing, which had proceeded before from +all the spiteful old ladies in Meryton, lost but little of their spirit +in this change of circumstances, because with such a husband her misery +was considered certain.</p> + +<p>It was a fortnight since Mrs. Bennet had been down stairs, but on this +happy day she again took her seat at the head of her table, and in +spirits oppressively high. No sentiment of shame gave a damp to her +triumph.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_380">{380}</a></span> The marriage of a daughter, which had been the first object of +her wishes since Jane was sixteen, was now on the point of +accomplishment, and her thoughts and her words ran wholly on those +attendants of elegant nuptials, fine muslins, new carriages, and +servants. She was busily searching through the neighbourhood for a +proper situation for her daughter; and, without knowing or considering +what their income might be, rejected many as deficient in size and +importance.</p> + +<p>“Haye Park might do,” said she, “if the Gouldings would quit it, or the +great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but Ashworth is +too far off. I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for +Purvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful.”</p> + +<p>Her husband allowed her to talk on without interruption while the +servants remained. But when they had withdrawn, he said to her, “Mrs. +Bennet, before you take any, or all of these houses, for your son and +daughter, let us come to a right understanding. Into <i>one</i> house in this +neighbourhood they shall never have admittance. I will not encourage the +imprudence of either, by receiving them at Longbourn.”</p> + +<p>A long dispute followed this declaration; but Mr. Bennet was firm: it +soon led to another; and Mrs. Bennet found, with amazement and horror, +that her husband would not advance a guinea to buy clothes for his +daughter. He protested that she should receive from him no mark of +affection whatever on the occasion. Mrs. Bennet could hardly comprehend +it. That his anger could be carried to such a point of inconceivable +resentment as to refuse his daughter a privilege, without which her +marriage would scarcely seem valid, exceeded all that she could believe +possible. She was more alive to the<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_381">{381}</a></span> disgrace, which her want of new +clothes must reflect on her daughter’s nuptials, than to any sense of +shame at her eloping and living with Wickham a fortnight before they +took place.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she had, from the distress of +the moment, been led to make Mr. Darcy acquainted with their fears for +her sister; for since her marriage would so shortly give the proper +termination to the elopement, they might hope to conceal its +unfavourable beginning from all those who were not immediately on the +spot.</p> + +<p>She had no fear of its spreading farther, through his means. There were +few people on whose secrecy she would have more confidently depended; +but at the same time there was no one whose knowledge of a sister’s +frailty would have mortified her so much. Not, however, from any fear of +disadvantage from it individually to herself; for at any rate there +seemed a gulf impassable between them. Had Lydia’s marriage been +concluded on the most honourable terms, it was not to be supposed that +Mr. Darcy would connect himself with a family, where to every other +objection would now be added an alliance and relationship of the nearest +kind with the man whom he so justly scorned.</p> + +<p>From such a connection she could not wonder that he should shrink. The +wish of procuring her regard, which she had assured herself of his +feeling in Derbyshire, could not in rational expectation survive such a +blow as this. She was humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though she +hardly knew of what. She became jealous of his esteem, when she could no +longer hope to be benefited by it. She wanted to hear of him, when there +seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence. She was convinced<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_382">{382}</a></span> that +she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely they +should meet.</p> + +<p>What a triumph for him, as she often thought, could he know that the +proposals which she had proudly spurned only four months ago would now +have been gladly and gratefully received! He was as generous, she +doubted not, as the most generous of his sex. But while he was mortal, +there must be a triumph.</p> + +<p>She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in +disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and +temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes. It +was an union that must have been to the advantage of both: by her ease +and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved; +and from his judgment, information, and knowledge of the world, she must +have received benefit of greater importance.</p> + +<p>But no such happy marriage could now teach the admiring multitude what +connubial felicity really was. An union of a different tendency, and +precluding the possibility of the other, was soon to be formed in their +family.</p> + +<p>How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported in tolerable independence she +could not imagine. But how little of permanent happiness could belong to +a couple who were only brought together because their passions were +stronger than their virtue, she could easily conjecture.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother. To Mr. Bennet’s +acknowledgments he briefly replied, with assurances of his eagerness to +promote the welfare of any of his family; and concluded with entreaties +that the subject might never be mentioned to him again.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_383">{383}</a></span> The principal +purport of his letter was to inform them, that Mr. Wickham had resolved +on quitting the militia.</p> + +<p>“It was greatly my wish that he should do so,” he added, “as soon as his +marriage was fixed on. And I think you will agree with me, in +considering a removal from that corps as highly advisable, both on his +account and my niece’s. It is Mr. Wickham’s intention to go into the +Regulars; and, among his former friends, there are still some who are +able and willing to assist him in the army. He has the promise of an +ensigncy in General——’s regiment, now quartered in the north. It is +an advantage to have it so far from this part of the kingdom. He +promises fairly; and I hope among different people, where they may each +have a character to preserve, they will both be more prudent. I have +written to Colonel Forster, to inform him of our present arrangements, +and to request that he will satisfy the various creditors of Mr. Wickham +in and near Brighton with assurances of speedy payment, for which I have +pledged myself. And will you give yourself the trouble of carrying +similar assurances to his creditors in Meryton, of whom I shall subjoin +a list, according to his information? He has given in all his debts; I +hope at least he has not deceived us. Haggerston has our directions, and +all will be completed in a week. They will then join his regiment, +unless they are first invited to Longbourn; and I understand from Mrs. +Gardiner that my niece is very desirous of seeing you all before she +leaves the south. She is well, and begs to be dutifully remembered to +you and her mother.—Yours, etc.</p> + +<p class="r"> +“<span class="smcap">E. Gardiner</span>.”<br> +</p> + +<p>Mr. Bennet and his daughters saw all the advantages <span class="pagenum"><a id="page_384">{384}</a></span>of Wickham’s +removal from the ——shire, as clearly as Mr. Gardiner could do. But +Mrs. Bennet was not so well pleased with it. Lydia’s being settled in +the north, just when she had expected most pleasure and pride in her +company, for she had by no means given up her plan of their residing in +Hertfordshire, was a severe disappointment; and, besides, it was such a +pity that Lydia should be taken from a regiment where she was acquainted +with everybody, and had so many favourites.</p> + +<p>“She is so fond of Mrs. Forster,” said she, “it will be quite shocking +to send her away! And there are several of the young men, too, that she +likes very much. The officers may not be so pleasant in General——’s +regiment.”</p> + +<p>His daughter’s request, for such it might be considered, of being +admitted into her family again, before she set off for the north, +received at first an absolute negative. But Jane and Elizabeth, who +agreed in wishing, for the sake of their sister’s feelings and +consequence, that she should be noticed on her marriage by her parents, +urged him so earnestly, yet so rationally and so mildly, to receive her +and her husband at Longbourn, as soon as they were married, that he was +prevailed on to think as they thought, and act as they wished. And their +mother had the satisfaction of knowing, that she should be able to show +her married daughter in the neighbourhood, before she was banished to +the north. When Mr. Bennet wrote again to his brother, therefore, he +sent his permission for them to come; and it was settled, that, as soon +as the ceremony was over, they should proceed to Longbourn. Elizabeth +was surprised, however, that Wickham should consent to such a scheme; +and, had she consulted only her own inclination, any meeting with him +would have been the last object of her wishes.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_385">{385}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_LI"></a><img src="images/i_414_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“With an affectionate smile.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER LI.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_414_b.png" +width="100" +alt="T"></span>HEIR sister’s wedding-day arrived; and Jane and Elizabeth felt for her +probably more than she felt for herself. The carriage was sent to meet +them at——, and they were to return in it by dinnertime. Their arrival +was dreaded by the elder Miss Bennets—and Jane more<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_386">{386}</a></span> especially, who +gave Lydia the feelings which would have attended herself, had <i>she</i> +been the culprit, and was wretched in the thought of what her sister +must endure.</p> + +<p>They came. The family were assembled in the breakfast-room to receive +them. Smiles decked the face of Mrs. Bennet, as the carriage drove up to +the door; her husband looked impenetrably grave; her daughters, alarmed, +anxious, uneasy.</p> + +<p>Lydia’s voice was heard in the vestibule; the door was thrown open, and +she ran into the room. Her mother stepped forwards, embraced her, and +welcomed her with rapture; gave her hand with an affectionate smile to +Wickham, who followed his lady; and wished them both joy, with an +alacrity which showed no doubt of their happiness.</p> + +<p>Their reception from Mr. Bennet, to whom they then turned, was not quite +so cordial. His countenance rather gained in austerity; and he scarcely +opened his lips. The easy assurance of the young couple, indeed, was +enough to provoke him.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was disgusted, and even Miss Bennet was shocked. Lydia was +Lydia still; untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy, and fearless. She turned +from sister to sister, demanding their congratulations; and when at +length they all sat down, looked eagerly round the room, took notice of +some little alteration in it, and observed, with a laugh, that it was a +great while since she had been there.</p> + +<p>Wickham was not at all more distressed than herself; but his manners +were always so pleasing, that, had his character and his marriage been +exactly what they ought, his smiles and his easy address, while he +claimed their relationship, would have delighted them all. Elizabeth<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_387">{387}</a></span> +had not before believed him quite equal to such assurance; but she sat +down, resolving within herself to draw no limits in future to the +impudence of an impudent man. <i>She</i> blushed, and Jane blushed; but the +cheeks of the two who caused their confusion suffered no variation of +colour.</p> + +<p>There was no want of discourse. The bride and her mother could neither +of them talk fast enough; and Wickham, who happened to sit near +Elizabeth, began inquiring after his acquaintance in that neighbourhood, +with a good-humoured ease, which she felt very unable to equal in her +replies. They seemed each of them to have the happiest memories in the +world. Nothing of the past was recollected with pain; and Lydia led +voluntarily to subjects which her sisters would not have alluded to for +the world.</p> + +<p>“Only think of its being three months,” she cried, “since I went away: +it seems but a fortnight, I declare; and yet there have been things +enough happened in the time. Good gracious! when I went away, I am sure +I had no more idea of being married till I came back again! though I +thought it would be very good fun if I was.”</p> + +<p>Her father lifted up his eyes, Jane was distressed, Elizabeth looked +expressively at Lydia; but she, who never heard nor saw anything of +which she chose to be insensible, gaily continued,—</p> + +<p>“Oh, mamma, do the people hereabouts know I am married to-day? I was +afraid they might not; and we overtook William Goulding in his curricle, +so I was determined he should know it, and so I let down the side glass +next to him, and took off my glove and let my hand just rest upon the +window frame, so that he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_388">{388}</a></span> might see the ring, and then I bowed and +smiled like anything.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth could bear it no longer. She got up and ran out of the room; +and returned no more, till she heard them passing through the hall to +the dining-parlour. She then joined them soon enough to see Lydia, with +anxious parade, walk up to her mother’s right hand, and hear her say to +her eldest sister,—</p> + +<p>“Ah, Jane, I take your place now, and you must go lower, because I am a +married woman.”</p> + +<p>It was not to be supposed that time would give Lydia that embarrassment +from which she had been so wholly free at first. Her ease and good +spirits increased. She longed to see Mrs. Philips, the Lucases, and all +their other neighbours, and to hear herself called “Mrs. Wickham” by +each of them; and in the meantime she went after dinner to show her ring +and boast of being married to Mrs. Hill and the two housemaids.</p> + +<p>“Well, mamma,” said she, when they were all returned to the +breakfast-room, “and what do you think of my husband? Is not he a +charming man? I am sure my sisters must all envy me. I only hope they +may have half my good luck. They must all go to Brighton. That is the +place to get husbands. What a pity it is, mamma, we did not all go!”</p> + +<p>“Very true; and if I had my will we should. But, my dear Lydia, I don’t +at all like your going such a way off. Must it be so?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Lord! yes; there is nothing in that. I shall like it of all things. +You and papa, and my sisters, must come down and see us. We shall be at +Newcastle all the winter, and I dare say there will be some balls, and I +will take care to get good partners for them all.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_389">{389}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“I should like it beyond anything!” said her mother.</p> + +<p>“And then when you go away, you may leave one or two of my sisters +behind you; and I dare say I shall get husbands for them before the +winter is over.”</p> + +<p>“I thank you for my share of the favour,” said Elizabeth; “but I do not +particularly like your way of getting husbands.”</p> + +<p>Their visitors were not to remain above ten days with them. Mr. Wickham +had received his commission before he left London, and he was to join +his regiment at the end of a fortnight.</p> + +<p>No one but Mrs. Bennet regretted that their stay would be so short; and +she made the most of the time by visiting about with her daughter, and +having very frequent parties at home. These parties were acceptable to +all; to avoid a family circle was even more desirable to such as did +think than such as did not.</p> + +<p>Wickham’s affection for Lydia was just what Elizabeth had expected to +find it; not equal to Lydia’s for him. She had scarcely needed her +present observation to be satisfied, from the reason of things, that +their elopement had been brought on by the strength of her love rather +than by his; and she would have wondered why, without violently caring +for her, he chose to elope with her at all, had she not felt certain +that his flight was rendered necessary by distress of circumstances; and +if that were the case, he was not the young man to resist an opportunity +of having a companion.</p> + +<p>Lydia was exceedingly fond of him. He was her dear Wickham on every +occasion; no one was to be put in competition with him. He did +everything best in the world; and she was sure he would kill more<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_390">{390}</a></span> birds +on the first of September than anybody else in the country.</p> + +<p>One morning, soon after their arrival, as she was sitting with her two +elder sisters, she said to Elizabeth,—</p> + +<p>“Lizzy, I never gave <i>you</i> an account of my wedding, I believe. You were +not by, when I told mamma, and the others, all about it. Are not you +curious to hear how it was managed?”</p> + +<p>“No, really,” replied Elizabeth; “I think there cannot be too little +said on the subject.”</p> + +<p>“La! You are so strange! But I must tell you how it went off. We were +married, you know, at St. Clement’s, because Wickham’s lodgings were in +that parish. And it was settled that we should all be there by eleven +o’clock. My uncle and aunt and I were to go together; and the others +were to meet us at the church.</p> + +<p>“Well, Monday morning came, and I was in such a fuss! I was so afraid, +you know, that something would happen to put it off, and then I should +have gone quite distracted. And there was my aunt, all the time I was +dressing, preaching and talking away just as if she was reading a +sermon. However, I did not hear above one word in ten, for I was +thinking, you may suppose, of my dear Wickham. I longed to know whether +he would be married in his blue coat.</p> + +<p>“Well, and so we breakfasted at ten as usual: I thought it would never +be over; for, by the bye, you are to understand that my uncle and aunt +were horrid unpleasant all the time I was with them. If you’ll believe +me, I did not once put my foot out of doors, though I was there a +fortnight. Not one party, or scheme, or anything! To be sure, London was +rather thin, but, however, the Little Theatre was open.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_391">{391}</a></span></p> + +<p>“Well, and so, just as the carriage came to the door, my uncle was +called away upon business to that horrid man Mr. Stone. And then, you +know, when once they get together, there is no end of it. Well, I was so +frightened I did not know what to do, for my uncle was to give me away; +and if we were beyond the hour we could not be married all day. But, +luckily, he came back again in ten minutes’ time, and then we all set +out. However, I recollected afterwards, that if he <i>had</i> been prevented +going, the wedding need not be put off, for Mr. Darcy might have done as +well.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Darcy!” repeated Elizabeth, in utter amazement.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes! he was to come there with Wickham, you know. But, gracious me! +I quite forgot! I ought not to have said a word about it. I promised +them so faithfully! What will Wickham say? It was to be such a secret!”</p> + +<p>“If it was to be a secret,” said Jane, “say not another word on the +subject. You may depend upon my seeking no further.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, certainly,” said Elizabeth, though burning with curiosity; “we will +ask you no questions.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” said Lydia; “for if you did, I should certainly tell you +all, and then Wickham would be so angry.”</p> + +<p>On such encouragement to ask, Elizabeth was forced to put it out of her +power, by running away.</p> + +<p>But to live in ignorance on such a point was impossible; or at least it +was impossible not to try for information. Mr. Darcy had been at her +sister’s wedding. It was exactly a scene, and exactly among people, +where he had apparently least to do, and least temptation to go. +Conjectures as to the meaning of it, rapid and wild,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_392">{392}</a></span> hurried into her +brain; but she was satisfied with none. Those that best pleased her, as +placing his conduct in the noblest light, seemed most improbable. She +could not bear such suspense; and hastily seizing a sheet of paper, +wrote a short letter to her aunt, to request an explanation of what +Lydia had dropped, if it were compatible with the secrecy which had been +intended.</p> + +<p>“You may readily comprehend,” she added, “what my curiosity must be to +know how a person unconnected with any of us, and, comparatively +speaking, a stranger to our family, should have been amongst you at such +a time. Pray write instantly, and let me understand it—unless it is, +for very cogent reasons, to remain in the secrecy which Lydia seems to +think necessary; and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with +ignorance.”</p> + +<p>“Not that I <i>shall</i>, though,” she added to herself, and she finished the +letter; “and, my dear aunt, if you do not tell me in an honourable +manner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find it +out.”</p> + +<p>Jane’s delicate sense of honour would not allow her to speak to +Elizabeth privately of what Lydia had let fall; Elizabeth was glad of +it:—till it appeared whether her inquiries would receive any +satisfaction, she had rather be without a confidante.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_393">{393}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_LII"></a><img src="images/i_422_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“I am sure she did not listen.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER LII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_422_b.png" +width="100" +alt="E"></span>LIZABETH had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to her letter as +soon as she possibly could. She was no sooner in possession of it, than +hurrying into the little copse, where she was least likely to be +interrupted, she sat down on one of the benches, and prepared<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_394">{394}</a></span> to be +happy; for the length of the letter convinced her that it did not +contain a denial.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="rt">“Gracechurch Street, <i>Sept. 6</i>.</p> + +<p class="nind"> +“My dear Niece,<br> +</p> + +<p>“I have just received your letter, and shall devote this whole +morning to answering it, as I foresee that a <i>little</i> writing will +not comprise what I have to tell you. I must confess myself +surprised by your application; I did not expect it from <i>you</i>. +Don’t think me angry, however, for I only mean to let you know, +that I had not imagined such inquiries to be necessary on <i>your</i> +side. If you do not choose to understand me, forgive my +impertinence. Your uncle is as much surprised as I am; and nothing +but the belief of your being a party concerned would have allowed +him to act as he has done. But if you are really innocent and +ignorant, I must be more explicit. On the very day of my coming +home from Longbourn, your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. Mr. +Darcy called, and was shut up with him several hours. It was all +over before I arrived; so my curiosity was not so dreadfully racked +as <i>yours</i> seems to have been. He came to tell Mr. Gardiner that he +had found out where your sister and Mr. Wickham were, and that he +had seen and talked with them both—Wickham repeatedly, Lydia once. +From what I can collect, he left Derbyshire only one day after +ourselves, and came to town with the resolution of hunting for +them. The motive professed was his conviction of its being owing to +himself that Wickham’s worthlessness had not been so well known as +to make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or +confide in him. He generously imputed the whole to his mistaken +pride, and confessed that he had before thought it beneath him to +lay his private actions open to<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_395">{395}</a></span> the world. His character was to +speak for itself. He called it, therefore, his duty to step +forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil which had been brought on +by himself. If he <i>had another</i> motive, I am sure it would never +disgrace him. He had been some days in town before he was able to +discover them; but he had something to direct his search, which was +more than <i>we</i> had; and the consciousness of this was another +reason for his resolving to follow us. There is a lady, it seems, a +Mrs. Younge, who was some time ago governess to Miss Darcy, and was +dismissed from her charge on some cause of disapprobation, though +he did not say what. She then took a large house in Edward Street, +and has since maintained herself by letting lodgings. This Mrs. +Younge was, he knew, intimately acquainted with Wickham; and he +went to her for intelligence of him, as soon as he got to town. But +it was two or three days before he could get from her what he +wanted. She would not betray her trust, I suppose, without bribery +and corruption, for she really did know where her friend was to be +found. Wickham, indeed, had gone to her on their first arrival in +London; and had she been able to receive them into her house, they +would have taken up their abode with her. At length, however, our +kind friend procured the wished-for direction. They were in —— +Street. He saw Wickham, and afterwards insisted on seeing Lydia. +His first object with her, he acknowledged, had been to persuade +her to quit her present disgraceful situation, and return to her +friends as soon as they could be prevailed on to receive her, +offering his assistance as far as it would go. But he found Lydia +absolutely resolved on remaining where she was. She cared for none +of her friends; she wanted no help of his; she would not hear of +leaving Wickham.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_396">{396}</a></span> She was sure they should be married some time or +other, and it did not much signify when. Since such were her +feelings, it only remained, he thought, to secure and expedite a +marriage, which, in his very first conversation with Wickham, he +easily learnt had never been <i>his</i> design. He confessed himself +obliged to leave the regiment on account of some debts of honour +which were very pressing; and scrupled not to lay all the ill +consequences of Lydia’s flight on her own folly alone. He meant to +resign his commission immediately; and as to his future situation, +he could conjecture very little about it. He must go somewhere, but +he did not know where, and he knew he should have nothing to live +on. Mr. Darcy asked why he did not marry your sister at once. +Though Mr. Bennet was not imagined to be very rich, he would have +been able to do something for him, and his situation must have been +benefited by marriage. But he found, in reply to this question, +that Wickham still cherished the hope of more effectually making +his fortune by marriage, in some other country. Under such +circumstances, however, he was not likely to be proof against the +temptation of immediate relief. They met several times, for there +was much to be discussed. Wickham, of course, wanted more than he +could get; but at length was reduced to be reasonable. Everything +being settled between <i>them</i>, Mr. Darcy’s next step was to make +your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Gracechurch +Street the evening before I came home. But Mr. Gardiner could not +be seen; and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father +was still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did +not judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly +consult as your uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him +till after the <span class="pagenum"><a id="page_397">{397}</a></span>departure of the former. He did not leave his name, +and till the next day it was only known that a gentleman had called +on business. On Saturday he came again. Your father was gone, your +uncle at home, and, as I said before, they had a great deal of talk +together. They met again on Sunday, and then <i>I</i> saw him too. It +was not all settled before Monday: as soon as it was, the express +was sent off to Longbourn. But our visitor was very obstinate. I +fancy, Lizzy, that obstinacy is the real defect of his character, +after all. He has been accused of many faults at different times; +but <i>this</i> is the true one. Nothing was to be done that he did not +do himself; though I am sure (and I do not speak it to be thanked, +therefore say nothing about it) your uncle would most readily have +settled the whole. They battled it together for a long time, which +was more than either the gentleman or lady concerned in it +deserved. But at last your uncle was forced to yield, and instead +of being allowed to be of use to his niece, was forced to put up +with only having the probable credit of it, which went sorely +against the grain; and I really believe your letter this morning +gave him great pleasure, because it required an explanation that +would rob him of his borrowed feathers, and give the praise where +it was due. But, Lizzy, this must go no further than yourself, or +Jane at most. You know pretty well, I suppose, what has been done +for the young people. His debts are to be paid, amounting, I +believe, to considerably more than a thousand pounds, another +thousand in addition to her own settled upon <i>her</i>, and his +commission purchased. The reason why all this was to be done by him +alone, was such as I have given above. It was owing to him, to his +reserve and want of proper consideration, that Wickham’s character +had been so<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_398">{398}</a></span> misunderstood, and consequently that he had been +received and noticed as he was. Perhaps there was some truth in +<i>this</i>; though I doubt whether <i>his</i> reserve, or <i>anybody’s</i> +reserve can be answerable for the event. But in spite of all this +fine talking, my dear Lizzy, you may rest perfectly assured that +your uncle would never have yielded, if we had not given him credit +for <i>another interest</i> in the affair. When all this was resolved +on, he returned again to his friends, who were still staying at +Pemberley; but it was agreed that he should be in London once more +when the wedding took place, and all money matters were then to +receive the last finish. I believe I have now told you everything. +It is a relation which you tell me is to give you great surprise; I +hope at least it will not afford you any displeasure. Lydia came to +us, and Wickham had constant admission to the house. <i>He</i> was +exactly what he had been when I knew him in Hertfordshire; but I +would not tell you how little I was satisfied with <i>her</i> behaviour +while she stayed with us, if I had not perceived, by Jane’s letter +last Wednesday, that her conduct on coming home was exactly of a +piece with it, and therefore what I now tell you can give you no +fresh pain. I talked to her repeatedly in the most serious manner, +representing to her the wickedness of what she had done, and all +the unhappiness she had brought on her family. If she heard me, it +was by good luck, for I am sure she did not listen. I was sometimes +quite provoked; but then I recollected my dear Elizabeth and Jane, +and for their sakes had patience with her. Mr. Darcy was punctual +in his return, and, as Lydia informed you, attended the wedding. He +dined with us the next day, and was to leave town again on +Wednesday or Thursday. Will you be very angry with me, my dear<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_399">{399}</a></span> +Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying (what I was never bold +enough to say before) how much I like him? His behaviour to us has, +in every respect, been as pleasing as when we were in Derbyshire. +His understanding and opinions all please me; he wants nothing but +a little more liveliness, and <i>that</i>, if he marry <i>prudently</i>, his +wife may teach him. I thought him very sly; he hardly ever +mentioned your name. But slyness seems the fashion. Pray forgive +me, if I have been very presuming, or at least do not punish me so +far as to exclude me from P. I shall never be quite happy till I +have been all round the park. A low phaeton with a nice little pair +of ponies would be the very thing. But I must write no more. The +children have been wanting me this half hour.</p> + +<p class="r"> +“Yours, very sincerely,<br> +“<span class="smcap">M. Gardiner</span>.”<br> +</p></div> + +<p>The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth into a flutter of spirits, +in which it was difficult to determine whether pleasure or pain bore the +greatest share. The vague and unsettled suspicions which uncertainty had +produced, of what Mr. Darcy might have been doing to forward her +sister’s match—which she had feared to encourage, as an exertion of +goodness too great to be probable, and at the same time dreaded to be +just, from the pain of obligation—were proved beyond their greatest +extent to be true! He had followed them purposely to town, he had taken +on himself all the trouble and mortification attendant on such a +research; in which supplication had been necessary to a woman whom he +must abominate and despise, and where he was reduced to meet, frequently +meet, reason with, persuade, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_400">{400}</a></span> finally bribe the man whom he always +most wished to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to +pronounce. He had done all this for a girl whom he could neither regard +nor esteem. Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her. But it +was a hope shortly checked by other considerations; and she soon felt +that even her vanity was insufficient, when required to depend on his +affection for her, for a woman who had already refused him, as able to +overcome a sentiment so natural as abhorrence against relationship with +Wickham. Brother-in-law of Wickham! Every kind of pride must revolt from +the connection. He had, to be sure, done much. She was ashamed to think +how much. But he had given a reason for his interference, which asked no +extraordinary stretch of belief. It was reasonable that he should feel +he had been wrong; he had liberality, and he had the means of exercising +it; and though she would not place herself as his principal inducement, +she could perhaps believe, that remaining partiality for her might +assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind must be +materially concerned. It was painful, exceedingly painful, to know that +they were under obligations to a person who could never receive a +return. They owed the restoration of Lydia, her character, everything to +him. Oh, how heartily did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she +had ever encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed towards +him! For herself she was humbled; but she was proud of him,—proud that +in a cause of compassion and honour he had been able to get the better +of himself. She read over her aunt’s commendation of him again and +again. It was hardly enough; but it pleased her. She was even sensible +of some pleasure, though mixed with regret, on<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_401">{401}</a></span> finding how steadfastly +both she and her uncle had been persuaded that affection and confidence +subsisted between Mr. Darcy and herself.</p> + +<p>She was roused from her seat and her reflections, by someone’s approach; +and, before she could strike into another path, she was overtaken by +Wickham.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear sister?” said he, +as he joined her.</p> + +<p>“You certainly do,” she replied with a smile; “but it does not follow +that the interruption must be unwelcome.”</p> + +<p>“I should be sorry, indeed, if it were. <i>We</i> were always good friends, +and now we are better.”</p> + +<p>“True. Are the others coming out?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know. Mrs. Bennet and Lydia are going in the carriage to +Meryton. And so, my dear sister, I find, from our uncle and aunt, that +you have actually seen Pemberley.”</p> + +<p>She replied in the affirmative.</p> + +<p>“I almost envy you the pleasure, and yet I believe it would be too much +for me, or else I could take it in my way to Newcastle. And you saw the +old housekeeper, I suppose? Poor Reynolds, she was always very fond of +me. But of course she did not mention my name to you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, she did.”</p> + +<p>“And what did she say?”</p> + +<p>“That you were gone into the army, and she was afraid had—not turned +out well. At such a distance as <i>that</i>, you know, things are strangely +misrepresented.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” he replied, biting his lips. Elizabeth hoped she had +silenced him; but he soon afterwards said,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_402">{402}</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“I was surprised to see Darcy in town last month. We passed each other +several times. I wonder what he can be doing there.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps preparing for his marriage with Miss de Bourgh,” said +Elizabeth. “It must be something particular to take him there at this +time of year.”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly. Did you see him while you were at Lambton? I thought I +understood from the Gardiners that you had.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; he introduced us to his sister.”</p> + +<p>“And do you like her?”</p> + +<p>“Very much.”</p> + +<p>“I have heard, indeed, that she is uncommonly improved within this year +or two. When I last saw her, she was not very promising. I am very glad +you liked her. I hope she will turn out well.”</p> + +<p>“I dare say she will; she has got over the most trying age.”</p> + +<p>“Did you go by the village of Kympton?”</p> + +<p>“I do not recollect that we did.”</p> + +<p>“I mention it because it is the living which I ought to have had. A most +delightful place! Excellent parsonage-house! It would have suited me in +every respect.”</p> + +<p>“How should you have liked making sermons?”</p> + +<p>“Exceedingly well. I should have considered it as part of my duty, and +the exertion would soon have been nothing. One ought not to repine; but, +to be sure, it would have been such a thing for me! The quiet, the +retirement of such a life, would have answered all my ideas of +happiness! But it was not to be. Did you ever hear Darcy mention the +circumstance when you were in Kent?”</p> + +<p>“I <i>have</i> heard from authority, which I thought <i>as good</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_403">{403}</a></span> that it was +left you conditionally only, and at the will of the present patron.”</p> + +<p>“You have! Yes, there was something in <i>that</i>; I told you so from the +first, you may remember.”</p> + +<p>“I <i>did</i> hear, too, that there was a time when sermon-making was not so +palatable to you as it seems to be at present; that you actually +declared your resolution of never taking orders, and that the business +had been compromised accordingly.”</p> + +<p>“You did! and it was not wholly without foundation. You may remember +what I told you on that point, when first we talked of it.”</p> + +<p>They were now almost at the door of the house, for she had walked fast +to get rid of him; and unwilling, for her sister’s sake, to provoke him, +she only said in reply, with a good-humoured smile,—</p> + +<p>“Come, Mr. Wickham, we are brother and sister, you know. Do not let us +quarrel about the past. In future, I hope we shall be always of one +mind.”</p> + +<p>She held out her hand: he kissed it with affectionate gallantry, though +he hardly knew how to look, and they entered the house.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_404">{404}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_LIII"></a><img src="images/i_433_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“Mr. Darcy with him.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER LIII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_433_b.png" +width="100" +alt="M"></span>R. WICKHAM was so perfectly satisfied with this conversation, that he +never again distressed himself, or provoked his dear sister Elizabeth, +by introducing the subject of it; and she was pleased to find that she +had said enough to keep him quiet.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_405">{405}</a></span></p> + +<p>The day of his and Lydia’s departure soon came; and Mrs. Bennet was +forced to submit to a separation, which, as her husband by no means +entered into her scheme of their all going to Newcastle, was likely to +continue at least a twelvemonth.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear Lydia,” she cried, “when shall we meet again?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Lord! I don’t know. Not these two or three years, perhaps.”</p> + +<p>“Write to me very often, my dear.”</p> + +<p>“As often as I can. But you know married women have never much time for +writing. My sisters may write to <i>me</i>. They will have nothing else to +do.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Wickham’s adieus were much more affectionate than his wife’s. He +smiled, looked handsome, and said many pretty things.</p> + +<p>“He is as fine a fellow,” said Mr. Bennet, as soon as they were out of +the house, “as ever I saw. He simpers, and smirks, and makes love to us +all. I am prodigiously proud of him. I defy even Sir William Lucas +himself to produce a more valuable son-in-law.”</p> + +<p>The loss of her daughter made Mrs. Bennet very dull for several days.</p> + +<p>“I often think,” said she, “that there is nothing so bad as parting with +one’s friends. One seems so forlorn without them.”</p> + +<p>“This is the consequence, you see, madam, of marrying a daughter,” said +Elizabeth. “It must make you better satisfied that your other four are +single.”</p> + +<p>“It is no such thing. Lydia does not leave me because she is married; +but only because her husband’s regiment happens to be so far off. If +that had been nearer, she would not have gone so soon.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_406">{406}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>But the spiritless condition which this event threw her into was shortly +relieved, and her mind opened again to the agitation of hope, by an +article of news which then began to be in circulation. The housekeeper +at Netherfield had received orders to prepare for the arrival of her +master, who was coming down in a day or two, to shoot there for several +weeks. Mrs. Bennet was quite in the fidgets. She looked at Jane, and +smiled, and shook her head, by turns.</p> + +<p>“Well, well, and so Mr. Bingley is coming down, sister,” (for Mrs. +Philips first brought her the news). “Well, so much the better. Not that +I care about it, though. He is nothing to us, you know, and I am sure I +never want to see him again. But, however, he is very welcome to come to +Netherfield, if he likes it. And who knows what <i>may</i> happen? But that +is nothing to us. You know, sister, we agreed long ago never to mention +a word about it. And so, it is quite certain he is coming?”</p> + +<p>“You may depend on it,” replied the other, “for Mrs. Nichols was in +Meryton last night: I saw her passing by, and went out myself on purpose +to know the truth of it; and she told me that it was certainly true. He +comes down on Thursday, at the latest, very likely on Wednesday. She was +going to the butcher’s, she told me, on purpose to order in some meat on +Wednesday, and she has got three couple of ducks just fit to be killed.”</p> + +<p>Miss Bennet had not been able to hear of his coming without changing +colour. It was many months since she had mentioned his name to +Elizabeth; but now, as soon as they were alone together, she said,—</p> + +<p>“I saw you look at me to-day, Lizzy, when my aunt told us of the present +report; and I know I appeared<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_407">{407}</a></span> distressed; but don’t imagine it was from +any silly cause. I was only confused for the moment, because I felt that +I <i>should</i> be looked at. I do assure you that the news does not affect +me either with pleasure or pain. I am glad of one thing, that he comes +alone; because we shall see the less of him. Not that I am afraid of +<i>myself</i>, but I dread other people’s remarks.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth did not know what to make of it. Had she not seen him in +Derbyshire, she might have supposed him capable of coming there with no +other view than what was acknowledged; but she still thought him partial +to Jane, and she wavered as to the greater probability of his coming +there <i>with</i> his friend’s permission, or being bold enough to come +without it.</p> + +<p>“Yet it is hard,” she sometimes thought, “that this poor man cannot come +to a house, which he has legally hired, without raising all this +speculation! I <i>will</i> leave him to himself.”</p> + +<p>In spite of what her sister declared, and really believed to be her +feelings, in the expectation of his arrival, Elizabeth could easily +perceive that her spirits were affected by it. They were more disturbed, +more unequal, than she had often seen them.</p> + +<p>The subject which had been so warmly canvassed between their parents, +about a twelvemonth ago, was now brought forward again.</p> + +<p>“As soon as ever Mr. Bingley comes, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “you +will wait on him, of course.”</p> + +<p>“No, no. You forced me into visiting him last year, and promised, if I +went to see him, he should marry one of my daughters. But it ended in +nothing, and I will not be sent on a fool’s errand again.”</p> + +<p>His wife represented to him how absolutely necessary<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_408">{408}</a></span> such an attention +would be from all the neighbouring gentlemen, on his returning to +Netherfield.</p> + +<p>“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis an <i>etiquette</i> I despise,” said he. “If he wants our society, let +him seek it. He knows where we live. I will not spend <i>my</i> hours in +running after my neighbours every time they go away and come back +again.”</p> + +<p>“Well, all I know is, that it will be abominably rude if you do not wait +on him. But, however, that shan’t prevent my asking him to dine here, I +am determined. We must have Mrs. Long and the Gouldings soon. That will +make thirteen with ourselves, so there will be just room at table for +him.”</p> + +<p>Consoled by this resolution, she was the better able to bear her +husband’s incivility; though it was very mortifying to know that her +neighbours might all see Mr. Bingley, in consequence of it, before +<i>they</i> did. As the day of his arrival drew near,—</p> + +<p>“I begin to be sorry that he comes at all,” said Jane to her sister. “It +would be nothing; I could see him with perfect indifference; but I can +hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually talked of. My mother means well; +but she does not know, no one can know, how much I suffer from what she +says. Happy shall I be when his stay at Netherfield is over!”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could say anything to comfort you,” replied Elizabeth; “but it +is wholly out of my power. You must feel it; and the usual satisfaction +of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied me, because you have +always so much.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bingley arrived. Mrs. Bennet, through the assistance of servants, +contrived to have the earliest tidings of it, that the period of anxiety +and fretfulness on her side be as long as it could. She counted the days +that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_409">{409}</a></span> must intervene before their invitation could be sent—hopeless of +seeing him before. But on the third morning after his arrival in +Hertfordshire, she saw him from her dressing-room window enter the +paddock, and ride towards the house.</p> + +<p>Her daughters were eagerly called to partake of her joy. Jane resolutely +kept her place at the table; but Elizabeth, to satisfy her mother, went +to the window—she looked—she saw Mr. Darcy with him, and sat down +again by her sister.</p> + +<p>“There is a gentleman with him, mamma,” said Kitty; “who can it be?”</p> + +<p>“Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I do not +know.”</p> + +<p>“La!” replied Kitty, “it looks just like that man that used to be with +him before. Mr. what’s his name—that tall, proud man.”</p> + +<p>“Good gracious! Mr. Darcy!—and so it does, I vow. Well, any friend of +Mr. Bingley’s will always be welcome here, to be sure; but else I must +say that I hate the very sight of him.”</p> + +<p>Jane looked at Elizabeth with surprise and concern. She knew but little +of their meeting in Derbyshire, and therefore felt for the awkwardness +which must attend her sister, in seeing him almost for the first time +after receiving his explanatory letter. Both sisters were uncomfortable +enough. Each felt for the other, and of course for themselves; and their +mother talked on of her dislike of Mr. Darcy, and her resolution to be +civil to him only as Mr. Bingley’s friend, without being heard by either +of them. But Elizabeth had sources of uneasiness which could not yet be +suspected by Jane, to whom she had never yet had courage to show Mrs. +Gardine<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_410">{410}</a></span>r’s letter, or to relate her own change of sentiment towards +him. To Jane, he could be only a man whose proposals she had refused, +and whose merits she had undervalued; but to her own more extensive +information, he was the person to whom the whole family were indebted +for the first of benefits, and whom she regarded herself with an +interest, if not quite so tender, at least as reasonable and just, as +what Jane felt for Bingley. Her astonishment at his coming—at his +coming to Netherfield, to Longbourn, and voluntarily seeking her again, +was almost equal to what she had known on first witnessing his altered +behaviour in Derbyshire.</p> + +<p>The colour which had been driven from her face returned for half a +minute with an additional glow, and a smile of delight added lustre to +her eyes, as she thought for that space of time that his affection and +wishes must still be unshaken; but she would not be secure.</p> + +<p>“Let me first see how he behaves,” said she; “it will then be early +enough for expectation.”</p> + +<p>She sat intently at work, striving to be composed, and without daring to +lift up her eyes, till anxious curiosity carried them to the face of her +sister as the servant was approaching the door. Jane looked a little +paler than usual, but more sedate than Elizabeth had expected. On the +gentlemen’s appearing, her colour increased; yet she received them with +tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any +symptom of resentment, or any unnecessary complaisance.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth said as little to either as civility would allow, and sat down +again to her work, with an eagerness which it did not often command. She +had ventured only one glance at Darcy. He looked serious as usual;<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_411">{411}</a></span> and, +she thought, more as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, than as +she had seen him at Pemberley. But, perhaps, he could not in her +mother’s presence be what he was before her uncle and aunt. It was a +painful, but not an improbable, conjecture.</p> + +<p>Bingley she had likewise seen for an instant, and in that short period +saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. He was received by Mrs. +Bennet with a degree of civility which made her two daughters ashamed, +especially when contrasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness of +her courtesy and address of his friend.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth particularly, who knew that her mother owed to the latter the +preservation of her favourite daughter from irremediable infamy, was +hurt and distressed to a most painful degree by a distinction so ill +applied.</p> + +<p>Darcy, after inquiring of her how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did—a question +which she could not answer without confusion—said scarcely anything. He +was not seated by her: perhaps that was the reason of his silence; but +it had not been so in Derbyshire. There he had talked to her friends +when he could not to herself. But now several minutes elapsed, without +bringing the sound of his voice; and when occasionally, unable to resist +the impulse of curiosity, she raised her eyes to his face, she as often +found him looking at Jane as at herself, and frequently on no object but +the ground. More thoughtfulness and less anxiety to please, than when +they last met, were plainly expressed. She was disappointed, and angry +with herself for being so.</p> + +<p>“Could I expect it to be otherwise?” said she. “Yet why did he come?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_412">{412}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>She was in no humour for conversation with anyone but himself; and to +him she had hardly courage to speak.</p> + +<p>She inquired after his sister, but could do no more.</p> + +<p>“It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away,” said Mrs. Bennet.</p> + +<p>He readily agreed to it.</p> + +<p>“I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People <i>did</i> say, +you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope +it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood +since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled: and one of my +own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have +seen it in the papers. It was in the ‘Times’ and the ‘Courier,’ I know; +though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, ‘Lately, +George Wickham, Esq., to Miss Lydia Bennet,’ without there being a +syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything. +It was my brother Gardiner’s drawing up, too, and I wonder how he came +to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?”</p> + +<p>Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations. Elizabeth +dared not lift up her eyes. How Mr. Darcy looked, therefore, she could +not tell.</p> + +<p>“It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married,” +continued her mother; “but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very +hard to have her taken away from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a +place quite northward it seems, and there they are to stay, I do not +know how long. His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of +his leaving the ——shire, and of his being gone into the Regulars. +Thank heaven!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_413">{413}</a></span> he has <i>some</i> friends, though, perhaps, not so many as he +deserves.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr. Darcy, was in such misery +of shame that she could hardly keep her seat. It drew from her, however, +the exertion of speaking, which nothing else had so effectually done +before; and she asked Bingley whether he meant to make any stay in the +country at present. A few weeks, he believed.</p> + +<p>“When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley,” said her mother, +“I beg you will come here and shoot as many as you please on Mr. +Bennet’s manor. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and +will save all the best of the coveys for you.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth’s misery increased at such unnecessary, such officious +attention! Were the same fair prospect to arise at present, as had +flattered them a year ago, everything, she was persuaded, would be +hastening to the same vexatious conclusion. At that instant she felt, +that years of happiness could not make Jane or herself amends for +moments of such painful confusion.</p> + +<p>“The first wish of my heart,” said she to herself, “is never more to be +in company with either of them. Their society can afford no pleasure +that will atone for such wretchedness as this! Let me never see either +one or the other again!”</p> + +<p>Yet the misery, for which years of happiness were to offer no +compensation, received soon afterwards material relief, from observing +how much the beauty of her sister rekindled the admiration of her former +lover. When first he came in, he had spoken to her but little, but every +five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his attention. He found her +as handsome as she had<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_414">{414}</a></span> been last year; as good-natured, and as +unaffected, though not quite so chatty. Jane was anxious that no +difference should be perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded +that she talked as much as ever; but her mind was so busily engaged, +that she did not always know when she was silent.</p> + +<p>When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet was mindful of her +intended civility, and they were invited and engaged to dine at +Longbourn in a few days’ time.</p> + +<p>“You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley,” she added; “for when +you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with +us as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you +I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your +engagement.”</p> + +<p>Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of +his concern at having been prevented by business. They then went away.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and dine +there that day; but, though she always kept a very good table, she did +not think anything less than two courses could be good enough for a man +on whom she had such anxious designs, or satisfy the appetite and pride +of one who had ten thousand a year.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_415">{415}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_LIV"></a><img src="images/i_444_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“Jane happened to look round.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER LIV.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_444_b.png" +width="100" +alt="A"></span>S soon as they were gone, Elizabeth walked out to recover her spirits; +or, in other words, to dwell without interruption on those subjects +which must deaden them more. Mr. Darcy’s behaviour astonished and vexed +her.</p> + +<p>“Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent,” said she, +“did he come at all?”</p> + +<p>She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure.</p> + +<p>“He could be still amiable, still pleasing to my uncle and aunt, when he +was in town; and why not to me?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_416">{416}</a></span> If he fears me, why come hither? If he +no longer cares for me, why silent? Teasing, teasing man! I will think +no more about him.”</p> + +<p>Her resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept by the approach +of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful look which showed her +better satisfied with their visitors than Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said she, “that this first meeting is over, I feel perfectly +easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be embarrassed again by +his coming. I am glad he dines here on Tuesday. It will then be publicly +seen, that on both sides we meet only as common and indifferent +acquaintance.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, very indifferent, indeed,” said Elizabeth, laughingly. “Oh, Jane! +take care.”</p> + +<p>“My dear Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak as to be in danger now.”</p> + +<p>“I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with +you as ever.”</p> + +<p>They did not see the gentlemen again till Tuesday; and Mrs. Bennet, in +the meanwhile, was giving way to all the happy schemes which the +good-humour and common politeness of Bingley, in half an hour’s visit, +had revived.</p> + +<p>On Tuesday there was a large party assembled at Longbourn; and the two +who were most anxiously expected, to the credit of their punctuality as +sportsmen, were in very good time. When they repaired to the +dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to see whether Bingley would take +the place which, in all their former parties, had belonged to him, by +her sister. Her prudent mother, occupied by the same ideas, forbore to +invite him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_417">{417}</a></span> seemed to +hesitate; but Jane happened to look round, and happened to smile: it was +decided. He placed himself by her.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, with a triumphant sensation, looked towards his friend. He +bore it with noble indifference; and she would have imagined that +Bingley had received his sanction to be happy, had she not seen his eyes +likewise turned towards Mr. Darcy, with an expression of half-laughing +alarm.</p> + +<p>His behaviour to her sister was such during dinnertime as showed an +admiration of her, which, though more guarded than formerly, persuaded +Elizabeth, that, if left wholly to himself, Jane’s happiness, and his +own, would be speedily secured. Though she dared not depend upon the +consequence, she yet received pleasure from observing his behaviour. It +gave her all the animation that her spirits could boast; for she was in +no cheerful humour. Mr. Darcy was almost as far from her as the table +could divide them. He was on one side of her mother. She knew how little +such a situation would give pleasure to either, or make either appear to +advantage. She was not near enough to hear any of their discourse; but +she could see how seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal and +cold was their manner whenever they did. Her mother’s ungraciousness +made the sense of what they owed him more painful to Elizabeth’s mind; +and she would, at times, have given anything to be privileged to tell +him, that his kindness was neither unknown nor unfelt by the whole of +the family.</p> + +<p>She was in hopes that the evening would afford some opportunity of +bringing them together; that the whole of the visit would not pass away +without enabling them<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_418">{418}</a></span> to enter into something more of conversation, +than the mere ceremonious salutation attending his entrance. Anxious and +uneasy, the period which passed in the drawing-room before the gentlemen +came, was wearisome and dull to a degree that almost made her uncivil. +She looked forward to their entrance as the point on which all her +chance of pleasure for the evening must depend.</p> + +<p>“If he does not come to me, <i>then</i>,” said she, “I shall give him up for +ever.”</p> + +<p>The gentlemen came; and she thought he looked as if he would have +answered her hopes; but, alas! the ladies had crowded round the table, +where Miss Bennet was making tea, and Elizabeth pouring out the coffee, +in so close a confederacy, that there was not a single vacancy near her +which would admit of a chair. And on the gentlemen’s approaching, one of +the girls moved closer to her than ever, and said, in a whisper,—</p> + +<p>“The men shan’t come and part us, I am determined. We want none of them; +do we?”</p> + +<p>Darcy had walked away to another part of the room. She followed him with +her eyes, envied everyone to whom he spoke, had scarcely patience enough +to help anybody to coffee, and then was enraged against herself for +being so silly!</p> + +<p>“A man who has once been refused! How could I ever be foolish enough to +expect a renewal of his love? Is there one among the sex who would not +protest against such a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman? +There is no indignity so abhorrent to their feelings.”</p> + +<p>She was a little revived, however, by his bringing back his coffee-cup +himself; and she seized the opportunity of saying,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_419">{419}</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“Is your sister at Pemberley still?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; she will remain there till Christmas.”</p> + +<p>“And quite alone? Have all her friends left her?”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others have been gone on to Scarborough +these three weeks.”</p> + +<p>She could think of nothing more to say; but if he wished to converse +with her, he might have better success. He stood by her, however, for +some minutes, in silence; and, at last, on the young lady’s whispering +to Elizabeth again, he walked away.</p> + +<p>When the tea things were removed, and the card tables placed, the ladies +all rose; and Elizabeth was then hoping to be soon joined by him, when +all her views were overthrown, by seeing him fall a victim to her +mother’s rapacity for whist players, and in a few moments after seated +with the rest of the party. She now lost every expectation of pleasure. +They were confined for the evening at different tables; and she had +nothing to hope, but that his eyes were so often turned towards her side +of the room, as to make him play as unsuccessfully as herself.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the two Netherfield gentlemen to +supper; but their carriage was, unluckily, ordered before any of the +others, and she had no opportunity of detaining them.</p> + +<p>“Well, girls,” said she, as soon as they were left to themselves, “what +say you to the day? I think everything has passed off uncommonly well, I +assure you. The dinner was as well dressed as any I ever saw. The +venison was roasted to a turn—and everybody said, they never saw so fat +a haunch. The soup was fifty times better than what we had at the +Lucases’ last week; and even Mr. Darcy acknowledged that the partridges +were<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_420">{420}</a></span> remarkably well done; and I suppose he has two or three French +cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look in greater +beauty. Mrs. Long said so too, for I asked her whether you did not. And +what do you think she said besides? ‘Ah! Mrs. Bennet, we shall have her +at Netherfield at last!’ She did, indeed. I do think Mrs. Long is as +good a creature as ever lived—and her nieces are very pretty behaved +girls, and not at all handsome: I like them prodigiously.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 476px;"> +<img src="images/i_449.jpg" width="476" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> +<p>“M<sup>rs</sup>. Long and her nieces.”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_421">{421}</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits: she had seen enough of +Bingley’s behaviour to Jane to be convinced that she would get him at +last; and her expectations of advantage to her family, when in a happy +humour, were so far beyond reason, that she was quite disappointed at +not seeing him there again the next day, to make his proposals.</p> + +<p>“It has been a very agreeable day,” said Miss Bennet to Elizabeth. “The +party seemed so well selected, so suitable one with the other. I hope we +may often meet again.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth smiled.</p> + +<p>“Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not suspect me. It mortifies me. I +assure you that I have now learnt to enjoy his conversation as an +agreeable and sensible young man without having a wish beyond it. I am +perfectly satisfied, from what his manners now are, that he never had +any design of engaging my affection. It is only that he is blessed with +greater sweetness of address, and a stronger desire of generally +pleasing, than any other man.”</p> + +<p>“You are very cruel,” said her sister, “you will not let me smile, and +are provoking me to it every moment.”</p> + +<p>“How hard it is in some cases to be believed! And how impossible in +others! But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I +acknowledge?”</p> + +<p>“That is a question which I hardly know how to answer. We all love to +instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth knowing. Forgive +me; and if you persist in indifference, do not make <i>me</i> your +confidante.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_422">{422}</a></span>”</p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_LV"></a><img src="images/i_451_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak to you.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER LV.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_451_b.png" +width="100" +alt="A"></span> FEW days after this visit, Mr. Bingley called again, and alone. His +friend had left him that morning for London, but was to return home in +ten days’ time. He sat with them above an hour, and was<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_423">{423}</a></span> in remarkably +good spirits. Mrs. Bennet invited him to dine with them; but, with many +expressions of concern, he confessed himself engaged elsewhere.</p> + +<p>“Next time you call,” said she, “I hope we shall be more lucky.”</p> + +<p>He should be particularly happy at any time, etc., etc.; and if she +would give him leave, would take an early opportunity of waiting on +them.</p> + +<p>“Can you come to-morrow?”</p> + +<p>Yes, he had no engagement at all for to-morrow; and her invitation was +accepted with alacrity.</p> + +<p>He came, and in such very good time, that the ladies were none of them +dressed. In ran Mrs. Bennet to her daughters’ room, in her +dressing-gown, and with her hair half finished, crying out,—</p> + +<p>“My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is come—Mr. Bingley is +come. He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste. Here, Sarah, come to Miss +Bennet this moment, and help her on with her gown. Never mind Miss +Lizzy’s hair.”</p> + +<p>“We will be down as soon as we can,” said Jane; “but I dare say Kitty is +forwarder than either of us, for she went upstairs half an hour ago.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! hang Kitty! what has she to do with it? Come, be quick, be quick! +where is your sash, my dear?”</p> + +<p>But when her mother was gone, Jane would not be prevailed on to go down +without one of her sisters.</p> + +<p>The same anxiety to get them by themselves was visible again in the +evening. After tea, Mr. Bennet retired to the library, as was his +custom, and Mary went upstairs to her instrument. Two obstacles of the +five being thus removed, Mrs. Bennet sat looking and winking at +Elizabeth and Catherine for a considerable time, without<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_424">{424}</a></span> making any +impression on them. Elizabeth would not observe her; and when at last +Kitty did, she very innocently said, “What is the matter, mamma? What do +you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing, child, nothing. I did not wink at you.” She then sat still +five minutes longer; but unable to waste such a precious occasion, she +suddenly got up, and saying to Kitty,—</p> + +<p>“Come here, my love, I want to speak to you,” took her out of the room. +Jane instantly gave a look at Elizabeth which spoke her distress at such +premeditation, and her entreaty that <i>she</i> would not give in to it. In a +few minutes, Mrs. Bennet half opened the door and called out,—</p> + +<p>“Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was forced to go.</p> + +<p>“We may as well leave them by themselves, you know,” said her mother as +soon as she was in the hall. “Kitty and I are going upstairs to sit in +my dressing-room.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth made no attempt to reason with her mother, but remained +quietly in the hall till she and Kitty were out of sight, then returned +into the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet’s schemes for this day were ineffectual. Bingley was +everything that was charming, except the professed lover of her +daughter. His ease and cheerfulness rendered him a most agreeable +addition to their evening party; and he bore with the ill-judged +officiousness of the mother, and heard all her silly remarks with a +forbearance and command of countenance particularly grateful to the +daughter.</p> + +<p>He scarcely needed an invitation to stay supper; and before he went away +an engagement was formed, chiefly through his own and Mrs. Bennet’s +means, for his coming next morning to shoot with her husband.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_425">{425}</a></span></p> + +<p>After this day, Jane said no more of her indifference. Not a word passed +between the sisters concerning Bingley; but Elizabeth went to bed in the +happy belief that all must speedily be concluded, unless Mr. Darcy +returned within the stated time. Seriously, however, she felt tolerably +persuaded that all this must have taken place with that gentleman’s +concurrence.</p> + +<p>Bingley was punctual to his appointment; and he and Mr. Bennet spent the +morning together, as had been agreed on. The latter was much more +agreeable than his companion expected. There was nothing of presumption +or folly in Bingley that could provoke his ridicule, or disgust him into +silence; and he was more communicative, and less eccentric, than the +other had ever seen him. Bingley of course returned with him to dinner; +and in the evening Mrs. Bennet’s invention was again at work to get +everybody away from him and her daughter. Elizabeth, who had a letter to +write, went into the breakfast-room for that purpose soon after tea; for +as the others were all going to sit down to cards, she could not be +wanted to counteract her mother’s schemes.</p> + +<p>But on her returning to the drawing-room, when her letter was finished, +she saw, to her infinite surprise, there was reason to fear that her +mother had been too ingenious for her. On opening the door, she +perceived her sister and Bingley standing together over the hearth, as +if engaged in earnest conversation; and had this led to no suspicion, +the faces of both, as they hastily turned round and moved away from each +other, would have told it all. <i>Their</i> situation was awkward enough; but +<i>hers</i> she thought was still worse. Not a syllable was uttered by +either; and Elizabeth was on the point of going away again, when +Bingley, who as well as the other had sat<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_426">{426}</a></span> down, suddenly rose, and, +whispering a few words to her sister, ran out of the room.</p> + +<p>Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth, where confidence would give +pleasure; and, instantly embracing her, acknowledged, with the liveliest +emotion, that she was the happiest creature in the world.</p> + +<p>“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis too much!” she added, “by far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh, +why is not everybody as happy?”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth’s congratulations were given with a sincerity, a warmth, a +delight, which words could but poorly express. Every sentence of +kindness was a fresh source of happiness to Jane. But she would not +allow herself to stay with her sister, or say half that remained to be +said, for the present.</p> + +<p>“I must go instantly to my mother,” she cried. “I would not on any +account trifle with her affectionate solicitude, or allow her to hear it +from anyone but myself. He is gone to my father already. Oh, Lizzy, to +know that what I have to relate will give such pleasure to all my dear +family! how shall I bear so much happiness?”</p> + +<p>She then hastened away to her mother, who had purposely broken up the +card-party, and was sitting upstairs with Kitty.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, who was left by herself, now smiled at the rapidity and ease +with which an affair was finally settled, that had given them so many +previous months of suspense and vexation.</p> + +<p>“And this,” said she, “is the end of all his friend’s anxious +circumspection! of all his sister’s falsehood and contrivance! the +happiest, wisest, and most reasonable end!”</p> + +<p>In a few minutes she was joined by Bingley, whose<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_427">{427}</a></span> conference with her +father had been short and to the purpose.</p> + +<p>“Where is your sister?” said he hastily, as he opened the door.</p> + +<p>“With my mother upstairs. She will be down in a moment, I dare say.”</p> + +<p>He then shut the door, and, coming up to her, claimed the good wishes +and affection of a sister. Elizabeth honestly and heartily expressed her +delight in the prospect of their relationship. They shook hands with +great cordiality; and then, till her sister came down, she had to listen +to all he had to say of his own happiness, and of Jane’s perfections; +and in spite of his being a lover, Elizabeth really believed all his +expectations of felicity to be rationally founded, because they had for +basis the excellent understanding and super-excellent disposition of +Jane, and a general similarity of feeling and taste between her and +himself.</p> + +<p>It was an evening of no common delight to them all; the satisfaction of +Miss Bennet’s mind gave such a glow of sweet animation to her face, as +made her look handsomer than ever. Kitty simpered and smiled, and hoped +her turn was coming soon. Mrs. Bennet could not give her consent, or +speak her approbation in terms warm enough to satisfy her feelings, +though she talked to Bingley of nothing else, for half an hour; and when +Mr. Bennet joined them at supper, his voice and manner plainly showed +how really happy he was.</p> + +<p>Not a word, however, passed his lips in allusion to it, till their +visitor took his leave for the night; but as soon as he was gone, he +turned to his daughter and said,—</p> + +<p>“Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_428">{428}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Jane went to him instantly, kissed him, and thanked him for his +goodness.</p> + +<p>“You are a good girl,” he replied, “and I have great pleasure in +thinking you will be so happily settled. I have not a doubt of your +doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means unlike. You are +each of you so complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so +easy, that every servant will cheat you; and so generous, that you will +always exceed your income.”</p> + +<p>“I hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness in money matters would be +unpardonable in <i>me</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Exceed their income! My dear Mr. Bennet,” cried his wife, “what are you +talking of? Why, he has four or five thousand a year, and very likely +more.” Then addressing her daughter, “Oh, my dear, dear Jane, I am so +happy! I am sure I shan’t get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it +would be. I always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not +be so beautiful for nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw him, when +he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought how likely it was +that you should come together. Oh, he is the handsomest young man that +ever was seen!”</p> + +<p>Wickham, Lydia, were all forgotten. Jane was beyond competition her +favourite child. At that moment she cared for no other. Her younger +sisters soon began to make interest with her for objects of happiness +which she might in future be able to dispense.</p> + +<p>Mary petitioned for the use of the library at Netherfield; and Kitty +begged very hard for a few balls there every winter.</p> + +<p>Bingley, from this time, was of course a daily visitor at Longbourn; +coming frequently before breakfast, and always remaining till after +supper; unless when some<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_429">{429}</a></span> barbarous neighbour, who could not be enough +detested, had given him an invitation to dinner, which he thought +himself obliged to accept.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth had now but little time for conversation with her sister; for +while he was present Jane had no attention to bestow on anyone else: but +she found herself considerably useful to both of them, in those hours of +separation that must sometimes occur. In the absence of Jane, he always +attached himself to Elizabeth for the pleasure of talking of her; and +when Bingley was gone, Jane constantly sought the same means of relief.</p> + +<p>“He has made me so happy,” said she, one evening, “by telling me that he +was totally ignorant of my being in town last spring! I had not believed +it possible.”</p> + +<p>“I suspected as much,” replied Elizabeth. “But how did he account for +it?”</p> + +<p>“It must have been his sisters’ doing. They were certainly no friends to +his acquaintance with me, which I cannot wonder at, since he might have +chosen so much more advantageously in many respects. But when they see, +as I trust they will, that their brother is happy with me, they will +learn to be contented, and we shall be on good terms again: though we +can never be what we once were to each other.”</p> + +<p>“That is the most unforgiving speech,” said Elizabeth, “that I ever +heard you utter. Good girl! It would vex me, indeed, to see you again +the dupe of Miss Bingley’s pretended regard.”</p> + +<p>“Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to town last November he +really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of <i>my</i> being indifferent +would have prevented his coming down again?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_430">{430}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“He made a little mistake, to be sure; but it is to the credit of his +modesty.”</p> + +<p>This naturally introduced a panegyric from Jane on his diffidence, and +the little value he put on his own good qualities.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was pleased to find that he had not betrayed the interference +of his friend; for, though Jane had the most generous and forgiving +heart in the world, she knew it was a circumstance which must prejudice +her against him.</p> + +<p>“I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!” cried +Jane. “Oh, Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family, and blessed +above them all? If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such +another man for you!”</p> + +<p>“If you were to give me forty such men I never could be so happy as you. +Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your +happiness. No, no, let me shift for myself; and, perhaps, if I have very +good luck, I may meet with another Mr. Collins in time.”</p> + +<p>The situation of affairs in the Longbourn family could not be long a +secret. Mrs. Bennet was privileged to whisper it to Mrs. Philips, and +she ventured, without any permission, to do the same by all her +neighbours in Meryton.</p> + +<p>The Bennets were speedily pronounced to be the luckiest family in the +world; though only a few weeks before, when Lydia had first run away, +they had been generally proved to be marked out for misfortune.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_431">{431}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_LVI"></a><img src="images/i_460_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER LVI.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_460_b.png" +width="100" +alt="O"></span>NE morning, about a week after Bingley’s engagement with Jane had been +formed, as he and the females of the family were sitting together in the +dining-room, their attention was suddenly drawn to the window by the +sound of a carriage; and they perceived a chaise and four driving up the +lawn. It was too early in the morning for visitors; and besides, the +equipage did not answer to that of any of their neighbours. The horses +were post; and neither the carriage, nor the livery of the servant who +preceded it, were familiar to them. As<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_432">{432}</a></span> it was certain, however, that +somebody was coming, Bingley instantly prevailed on Miss Bennet to avoid +the confinement of such an intrusion, and walk away with him into the +shrubbery. They both set off; and the conjectures of the remaining three +continued, though with little satisfaction, till the door was thrown +open, and their visitor entered. It was Lady Catherine de Bourgh.</p> + +<p>They were of course all intending to be surprised: but their +astonishment was beyond their expectation; and on the part of Mrs. +Bennet and Kitty, though she was perfectly unknown to them, even +inferior to what Elizabeth felt.</p> + +<p>She entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious, made no +other reply to Elizabeth’s salutation than a slight inclination of the +head, and sat down without saying a word. Elizabeth had mentioned her +name to her mother on her Ladyship’s entrance, though no request of +introduction had been made.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet, all amazement, though flattered by having a guest of such +high importance, received her with the utmost politeness. After sitting +for a moment in silence, she said, very stiffly, to Elizabeth,—</p> + +<p>“I hope you are well, Miss Bennet. That lady, I suppose, is your +mother?”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was.</p> + +<p>“And <i>that</i>, I suppose, is one of your sisters?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, madam,” said Mrs. Bennet, delighted to speak to a Lady Catherine. +“She is my youngest girl but one. My youngest of all is lately married, +and my eldest is somewhere about the ground, walking with a young man, +who, I believe, will soon become a part of the family.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_433">{433}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“You have a very small park here,” returned Lady Catherine, after a +short silence.</p> + +<p>“It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my Lady, I dare say; but, I +assure you, it is much larger than Sir William Lucas’s.”</p> + +<p>“This must be a most inconvenient sitting-room for the evening in +summer: the windows are full west.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet assured her that they never sat there after dinner; and then +added,—</p> + +<p>“May I take the liberty of asking your Ladyship whether you left Mr. and +Mrs. Collins well?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, very well. I saw them the night before last.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth now expected that she would produce a letter for her from +Charlotte, as it seemed the only probable motive for her calling. But no +letter appeared, and she was completely puzzled.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bennet, with great civility, begged her Ladyship to take some +refreshment: but Lady Catherine very resolutely, and not very politely, +declined eating anything; and then, rising up, said to Elizabeth,—</p> + +<p>“Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little wilderness +on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you +will favour me with your company.”</p> + +<p>“Go, my dear,” cried her mother, “and show her Ladyship about the +different walks. I think she will be pleased with the hermitage.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth obeyed; and, running into her own room for her parasol, +attended her noble guest downstairs. As they passed through the hall, +Lady Catherine opened the doors into the dining-parlour and +drawing-room, and pronouncing them, after a short survey, to be +decent-looking rooms, walked on.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_434">{434}</a></span></p> + +<p>Her carriage remained at the door, and Elizabeth saw that her +waiting-woman was in it. They proceeded in silence along the gravel walk +that led to the copse; Elizabeth was determined to make no effort for +conversation with a woman who was now more than usually insolent and +disagreeable.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 332px;"> +<img src="images/i_463.jpg" width="332" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<div class="caption"> + +<p> +“After a short survey”<br> +</p> + +<p>[<i>Copyright 1894 by George Allen.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_435">{435}</a></span></p> + +<p>“How could I ever think her like her nephew?” said she, as she looked in +her face.</p> + +<p>As soon as they entered the copse, Lady Catherine began in the following +manner:—</p> + +<p>“You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my +journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I +come.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment.</p> + +<p>“Indeed, you are mistaken, madam; I have not been at all able to account +for the honour of seeing you here.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Bennet,” replied her Ladyship, in an angry tone, “you ought to +know that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere <i>you</i> may +choose to be, you shall not find <i>me</i> so. My character has ever been +celebrated for its sincerity and frankness; and in a cause of such +moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most +alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told, that not only your +sister was on the point of being most advantageously married, but that +<i>you</i>—that Miss Elizabeth Bennet would, in all likelihood, be soon +afterwards united to my nephew—my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I +<i>know</i> it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him +so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on +setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to +you.”</p> + +<p>“If you believed it impossible to be true,” said Elizabeth, colouring +with astonishment and disdain, “I wonder you took the trouble of coming +so far. What could your Ladyship propose by it?”</p> + +<p>“At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_436">{436}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family,” said Elizabeth +coolly, “will be rather a confirmation of it—if, indeed, such a report +is in existence.”</p> + +<p>“If! do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been +industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a +report is spread abroad?”</p> + +<p>“I never heard that it was.”</p> + +<p>“And can you likewise declare, that there is no <i>foundation</i> for it?”</p> + +<p>“I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your Ladyship. <i>You</i> +may ask questions which <i>I</i> shall not choose to answer.”</p> + +<p>“This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Has +he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?”</p> + +<p>“Your Ladyship has declared it to be impossible.”</p> + +<p>“It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his +reason. But <i>your</i> arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, +have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You +may have drawn him in.”</p> + +<p>“If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such +language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world, +and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.”</p> + +<p>“But you are not entitled to know <i>mine</i>; nor will such behaviour as +this ever induce me to be explicit.”</p> + +<p>“Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the +presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is +engaged to <i>my daughter</i>. Now, what have you to say?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_437">{437}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Only this,—that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will +make an offer to me.”</p> + +<p>Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then replied,—</p> + +<p>“The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy, +they have been intended for each other. It was the favourite wish of +<i>his</i> mother, as well as of hers. While in their cradles we planned the +union; and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be +accomplished, is their marriage to be prevented by a young woman of +inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to +the family? Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends—to his +tacit engagement with Miss de Bourgh? Are you lost to every feeling of +propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say, that from his +earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no +other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be +kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry +Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the +marriage. Its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by +honour nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make +another choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?”</p> + +<p>“Because honour, decorum, prudence—nay, interest—forbid it. Yes, Miss +Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by his family or +friends, if you wilfully act against the inclinations of all. You will +be censured, slighted, and despised, by everyone connected with him. +Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned +by any of us.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_438">{438}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Elizabeth. “But the wife of Mr. +Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily +attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause +to repine.”</p> + +<p>“Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude +for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that +score? Let us sit down. You are to understand, Miss Bennet, that I came +here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I +be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person’s +whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.”</p> + +<p>“<i>That</i> will make your Ladyship’s situation at present more pitiable; +but it will have no effect on <i>me</i>.”</p> + +<p>“I will not be interrupted! Hear me in silence. My daughter and my +nephew are formed for each other. They are descended, on the maternal +side, from the same noble line; and, on the father’s, from respectable, +honourable, and ancient, though untitled, families. Their fortune on +both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other by the voice of +every member of their respective houses; and what is to divide +them?—the upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, +connections, or fortune! Is this to be endured? But it must not, shall +not be! If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to +quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.”</p> + +<p>“In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that +sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman’s daughter; so far we are +equal.”</p> + +<p>“True. You <i>are</i> a gentleman’s daughter. But what was your mother? Who +are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their +condition.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_439">{439}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Whatever my connections may be,” said Elizabeth, “if your nephew does +not object to them, they can be nothing to <i>you</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me, once for all, are you engaged to him?”</p> + +<p>Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere purpose of obliging Lady +Catherine, have answered this question, she could not but say, after a +moment’s deliberation,—</p> + +<p>“I am not.”</p> + +<p>Lady Catherine seemed pleased.</p> + +<p>“And will you promise me never to enter into such an engagement?”</p> + +<p>“I will make no promise of the kind.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Bennet, I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more +reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I +will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given me the +assurance I require.”</p> + +<p>“And I certainly <i>never</i> shall give it. I am not to be intimidated into +anything so wholly unreasonable. Your Ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to marry +your daughter; but would my giving you the wished-for promise make +<i>their</i> marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be attached to +me, would <i>my</i> refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on +his cousin? Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with +which you have supported this extraordinary application have been as +frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my +character, if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these. +How far your nephew might approve of your interference in <i>his</i> affairs, +I cannot tell; but you have certainly no right to concern yourself in +mine. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no further on the +subject.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_440">{440}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done. To all the +objections I have already urged I have still another to add. I am no +stranger to the particulars of your youngest sister’s infamous +elopement. I know it all; that the young man’s marrying her was a +patched-up business, at the expense of your father and uncle. And is +<i>such</i> a girl to be my nephew’s sister? Is <i>her</i> husband, who is the son +of his late father’s steward, to be his brother? Heaven and earth!—of +what are you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?”</p> + +<p>“You can <i>now</i> have nothing further to say,” she resentfully answered. +“You have insulted me, in every possible method. I must beg to return to +the house.”</p> + +<p>And she rose as she spoke. Lady Catherine rose also, and they turned +back. Her Ladyship was highly incensed.</p> + +<p>“You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my nephew! +Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that a connection with you +must disgrace him in the eyes of everybody?”</p> + +<p>“Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say. You know my sentiments.”</p> + +<p>“You are then resolved to have him?”</p> + +<p>“I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that manner, +which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without +reference to <i>you</i>, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.”</p> + +<p>“It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to obey the +claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin him in +the opinion of all his friends, and make him the contempt of the world.”</p> + +<p>“Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude,” replied Elizabeth, “has any +possible claim on me, in the present instance. No principle of either +would be violated by my<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_441">{441}</a></span> marriage with Mr. Darcy. And with regard to the +resentment of his family, or the indignation of the world, if the former +<i>were</i> excited by his marrying me, it would not give me one moment’s +concern—and the world in general would have too much sense to join in +the scorn.”</p> + +<p>“And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well. I +shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss Bennet, that your +ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped to find you +reasonable; but depend upon it I will carry my point.”</p> + +<p>In this manner Lady Catherine talked on till they were at the door of +the carriage, when, turning hastily round, she added,—</p> + +<p>“I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet. I send no compliments to your +mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth made no answer; and without attempting to persuade her +Ladyship to return into the house, walked quietly into it herself. She +heard the carriage drive away as she proceeded upstairs. Her mother +impatiently met her at the door of her dressing-room, to ask why Lady +Catherine would not come in again and rest herself.</p> + +<p>“She did not choose it,” said her daughter; “she would go.”</p> + +<p>“She is a very fine-looking woman! and her calling here was prodigiously +civil! for she only came, I suppose, to tell us the Collinses were well. +She is on her road somewhere, I dare say; and so, passing through +Meryton, thought she might as well call on you. I suppose she had +nothing particular to say to you, Lizzy?”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was forced to give in to a little falsehood here; for to +acknowledge the substance of their conversation was impossible.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_442">{442}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_LVII"></a><img src="images/i_471_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“But now it comes out.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER LVII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_471_b.png" +width="100" +alt="T"></span>HE discomposure of spirits which this extraordinary visit threw +Elizabeth into could not be easily overcome; nor could she for many +hours learn to think of it less than incessantly. Lady Catherine, it +appeared, had actually taken the trouble of this journey from Rosings +for the sole purpose of breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr. +Darcy. It was a rational scheme, to be sure! but from what the report of +their engagement could originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to imagine; +till she recollected that <i>his</i> being the intimate friend of Bingley, +and <i>her</i> being the sister of Jane, was enough, at a time when the +expectation of one wedding made everybody eager for another, to supply +the idea. She had not herself forgotten to feel that the marriage of her +sister must bring them more frequently together. And her neighbours at +Lucas Lodge, therefore, (for through their<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_443">{443}</a></span> communication with the +Collinses, the report, she concluded, had reached Lady Catherine,) had +only set <i>that</i> down as almost certain and immediate which <i>she</i> had +looked forward to as possible at some future time.</p> + +<p>In revolving Lady Catherine’s expressions, however, she could not help +feeling some uneasiness as to the possible consequence of her persisting +in this interference. From what she had said of her resolution to +prevent the marriage, it occurred to Elizabeth that she must meditate an +application to her nephew; and how he might take a similar +representation of the evils attached to a connection with her she dared +not pronounce. She knew not the exact degree of his affection for his +aunt, or his dependence on her judgment, but it was natural to suppose +that he thought much higher of her Ladyship than <i>she</i> could do; and it +was certain, that in enumerating the miseries of a marriage with <i>one</i> +whose immediate connections were so unequal to his own, his aunt would +address him on his weakest side. With his notions of dignity, he would +probably feel that the arguments, which to Elizabeth had appeared weak +and ridiculous, contained much good sense and solid reasoning.</p> + +<p>If he had been wavering before, as to what he should do, which had often +seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so near a relation might +settle every doubt, and determine him at once to be as happy as dignity +unblemished could make him. In that case he would return no more. Lady +Catherine might see him in her way through town; and his engagement to +Bingley of coming again to Netherfield must give way.</p> + +<p>“If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his promise should come to his +friend within a few days,” she added, “I shall know how to understand +it. I shall then give<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_444">{444}</a></span> over every expectation, every wish of his +constancy. If he is satisfied with only regretting me, when he might +have obtained my affections and hand, I shall soon cease to regret him +at all.”</p> + +<p>The surprise of the rest of the family, on hearing who their visitor had +been, was very great: but they obligingly satisfied it with the same +kind of supposition which had appeased Mrs. Bennet’s curiosity; and +Elizabeth was spared from much teasing on the subject.</p> + +<p>The next morning, as she was going down stairs, she was met by her +father, who came out of his library with a letter in his hand.</p> + +<p>“Lizzy,” said he, “I was going to look for you: come into my room.”</p> + +<p>She followed him thither; and her curiosity to know what he had to tell +her was heightened by the supposition of its being in some manner +connected with the letter he held. It suddenly struck her that it might +be from Lady Catherine, and she anticipated with dismay all the +consequent explanations.</p> + +<p>She followed her father to the fireplace, and they both sat down. He +then said,—</p> + +<p>“I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me +exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought to know its +contents. I did not know before that I had <i>two</i> daughters on the brink +of matrimony. Let me congratulate you on a very important conquest.”</p> + +<p>The colour now rushed into Elizabeth’s cheeks in the instantaneous +conviction of its being a letter from the nephew, instead of the aunt; +and she was undetermined whether most to be pleased that he explained +himself at all, or offended that his letter was not rather addressed to +herself, when her father continued,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_445">{445}</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration in such matters +as these; but I think I may defy even <i>your</i> sagacity to discover the +name of your admirer. This letter is from Mr. Collins.”</p> + +<p>“From Mr. Collins! and what can <i>he</i> have to say?”</p> + +<p>“Something very much to the purpose, of course. He begins with +congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter, of +which, it seems, he has been told by some of the good-natured, gossiping +Lucases. I shall not sport with your impatience by reading what he says +on that point. What relates to yourself is as follows:—‘Having thus +offered you the sincere congratulations of Mrs. Collins and myself on +this happy event, let me now add a short hint on the subject of another, +of which we have been advertised by the same authority. Your daughter +Elizabeth, it is presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after +her eldest sister has resigned it; and the chosen partner of her fate +may be reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages +in this land.’ Can you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant by this? +‘This young gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar way, with everything the +heart of mortal can most desire,—splendid property, noble kindred, and +extensive patronage. Yet, in spite of all these temptations, let me warn +my cousin Elizabeth, and yourself, of what evils you may incur by a +precipitate closure with this gentleman’s proposals, which, of course, +you will be inclined to take immediate advantage of.’ Have you any idea, +Lizzy, who this gentleman is? But now it comes out. ‘My motive for +cautioning you is as follows:—We have reason to imagine that his aunt, +Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look on the match with a friendly +eye.’ <i>Mr. Darcy</i>, you see, is the man! Now, Lizzy, I think<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_446">{446}</a></span> I <i>have</i> +surprised you. Could he, or the Lucases, have pitched on any man, within +the circle of our acquaintance, whose name would have given the lie more +effectually to what they related? Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any +woman but to see a blemish, and who probably never looked at <i>you</i> in +his life! It is admirable!”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth tried to join in her father’s pleasantry, but could only force +one most reluctant smile. Never had his wit been directed in a manner so +little agreeable to her.</p> + +<p>“Are you not diverted?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes. Pray read on.”</p> + +<p>“<span class="lftspc">‘</span>After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her Ladyship last +night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she +felt on the occasion; when it became apparent, that, on the score of +some family objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give +her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. I thought it my +duty to give the speediest intelligence of this to my cousin, that she +and her noble admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run +hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned.’ Mr. +Collins, moreover, adds, ‘I am truly rejoiced that my cousin Lydia’s sad +business has been so well hushed up, and am only concerned that their +living together before the marriage took place should be so generally +known. I must not, however, neglect the duties of my station, or refrain +from declaring my amazement, at hearing that you received the young +couple into your house as soon as they were married. It was an +encouragement of vice; and had I been the rector of Longbourn, I should +very strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them as +a Christian, but never to admit them<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_447">{447}</a></span> in your sight, or allow their +names to be mentioned in your hearing.’ <i>That</i> is his notion of +Christian forgiveness! The rest of his letter is only about his dear +Charlotte’s situation, and his expectation of a young olive-branch. But, +Lizzy, you look as if you did not enjoy it. You are not going to be +<i>missish</i>, I hope, and pretend to be affronted at an idle report. For +what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them +in our turn?”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” cried Elizabeth, “I am exceedingly diverted. But it is so +strange!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, <i>that</i> is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed on any other man +it would have been nothing; but <i>his</i> perfect indifference and <i>your</i> +pointed dislike make it so delightfully absurd! Much as I abominate +writing, I would not give up Mr. Collins’s correspondence for any +consideration. Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot help giving +him the preference even over Wickham, much as I value the impudence and +hypocrisy of my son-in-law. And pray, Lizzy, what said Lady Catherine +about this report? Did she call to refuse her consent?”</p> + +<p>To this question his daughter replied only with a laugh; and as it had +been asked without the least suspicion, she was not distressed by his +repeating it. Elizabeth had never been more at a loss to make her +feelings appear what they were not. It was necessary to laugh when she +would rather have cried. Her father had most cruelly mortified her by +what he said of Mr. Darcy’s indifference; and she could do nothing but +wonder at such a want of penetration, or fear that, perhaps, instead of +his seeing too <i>little</i>, she might have fancied too <i>much</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_448">{448}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_LVIII"></a><img src="images/i_477_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“The efforts of his aunt.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER LVIII.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_477_b.png" +width="100" +alt="I"></span>NSTEAD of receiving any such letter of excuse from his friend, as +Elizabeth half expected Mr. Bingley to do, he was able to bring Darcy +with him to Longbourn before many days had passed after Lady Catherine’s +visit. The gentlemen<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_449">{449}</a></span> arrived early; and, before Mrs. Bennet had time to +tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in +momentary dread, Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed +their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in the +habit of walking, Mary could never spare time, but the remaining five +set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others to +outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy +were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either; Kitty was +too much afraid of him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly forming a +desperate resolution; and, perhaps, he might be doing the same.</p> + +<p>They walked towards the Lucases’, because Kitty wished to call upon +Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a general concern, +when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the +moment for her resolution to be executed; and while her courage was +high, she immediately said,—</p> + +<p>“Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, and for the sake of giving +relief to my own feelings care not how much I may be wounding yours. I +can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor +sister. Ever since I have known it I have been most anxious to +acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest +of my family I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise +and emotion, “that you have ever been informed of what may, in a +mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner +was so little to be trusted.”</p> + +<p>“You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_450">{450}</a></span> first betrayed to +me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could +not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, +in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced +you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the +sake of discovering them.”</p> + +<p>“If you <i>will</i> thank me,” he replied, “let it be for yourself alone. +That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other +inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your +<i>family</i> owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought +only of <i>you</i>.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause, +her companion added, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your +feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. <i>My</i> +affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence +me on this subject for ever.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of +his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not +very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone +so material a change since the period to which he alluded, as to make +her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The +happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never +felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as +warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth +been able to encounter his eyes, she might have seen how well the +expression of heartfelt delight diffused over his face became him: but +though she could not look she could listen; and he told her of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_451">{451}</a></span> feelings +which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection +every moment more valuable.</p> + +<p>They walked on without knowing in what direction. There was too much to +be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. She +soon learnt that they were indebted for their present good understanding +to the efforts of his aunt, who <i>did</i> call on him in her return through +London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the +substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on +every expression of the latter, which, in her Ladyship’s apprehension, +peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance, in the belief that +such a relation must assist her endeavours to obtain that promise from +her nephew which <i>she</i> had refused to give. But, unluckily for her +Ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise.</p> + +<p>“It taught me to hope,” said he, “as I had scarcely ever allowed myself +to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain, that +had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have +acknowledged it to Lady Catherine frankly and openly.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, “Yes, you know enough of +my <i>frankness</i> to believe me capable of <i>that</i>. After abusing you so +abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all +your relations.”</p> + +<p>“What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For though your +accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour +to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was +unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”</p> + +<p>“We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that +evening,” said Elizabeth. “The conduct<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_452">{452}</a></span> of neither, if strictly +examined, will be irreproachable; but since then we have both, I hope, +improved in civility.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I +then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of +it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your +reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘Had you behaved in a +more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can +scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me; though it was some time, I +confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice.”</p> + +<p>“I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an +impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such +a way.”</p> + +<p>“I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper +feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never +forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible +way that would induce you to accept me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at +all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it.”</p> + +<p>Darcy mentioned his letter. “Did it,” said he,—“did it <i>soon</i> make you +think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its +contents?”</p> + +<p>She explained what its effects on her had been, and how gradually all +her former prejudices had been removed.</p> + +<p>“I knew,” said he, “that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was +necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part, +especially the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power +of<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_453">{453}</a></span> reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly +make you hate me.”</p> + +<p>“The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it essential to the +preservation of my regard; but, though we have both reason to think my +opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily +changed as that implies.”</p> + +<p>“When I wrote that letter,” replied Darcy, “I believed myself perfectly +calm and cool; but I am since convinced that it was written in a +dreadful bitterness of spirit.”</p> + +<p>“The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The +adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings +of the person who wrote and the person who received it are now so widely +different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance +attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my +philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you +pleasure.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. <i>Your</i> +retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment +arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of +ignorance. But with <i>me</i>, it is not so. Painful recollections will +intrude, which cannot, which ought not to be repelled. I have been a +selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a +child I was taught what was <i>right</i>, but I was not taught to correct my +temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride +and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only <i>child</i>), +I was spoiled by my parents, who, though good themselves, (my father +particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable,) allowed, encouraged, +almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond +my<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_454">{454}</a></span> own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to +<i>wish</i> at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with +my own. Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might +still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not +owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most +advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a +doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my +pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”</p> + +<p>“Had you then persuaded yourself that I should?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed I had. What will you think of my vanity? I believed you to be +wishing, expecting my addresses.”</p> + +<p>“My manners must have been in fault, but not intentionally, I assure +you. I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits might often lead me +wrong. How you must have hated me after <i>that</i> evening!”</p> + +<p>“Hate you! I was angry, perhaps, at first, but my anger soon began to +take a proper direction.”</p> + +<p>“I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me when we met at +Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed, I felt nothing but surprise.”</p> + +<p>“Your surprise could not be greater than <i>mine</i> in being noticed by you. +My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I +confess that I did not expect to receive <i>more</i> than my due.”</p> + +<p>“My object <i>then</i>,” replied Darcy, “was to show you, by every civility +in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped +to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you +see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes +introduced themselves, I can hardly<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_455">{455}</a></span> tell, but I believe in about half +an hour after I had seen you.”</p> + +<p>He then told her of Georgiana’s delight in her acquaintance, and of her +disappointment at its sudden interruption; which naturally leading to +the cause of that interruption, she soon learnt that his resolution of +following her from Derbyshire in quest of her sister had been formed +before he quitted the inn, and that his gravity and thoughtfulness there +had arisen from no other struggles than what such a purpose must +comprehend.</p> + +<p>She expressed her gratitude again, but it was too painful a subject to +each to be dwelt on farther.</p> + +<p>After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy to know +anything about it, they found at last, on examining their watches, that +it was time to be at home.</p> + +<p>“What could have become of Mr. Bingley and Jane?” was a wonder which +introduced the discussion of <i>their</i> affairs. Darcy was delighted with +their engagement; his friend had given him the earliest information of +it.</p> + +<p>“I must ask whether you were surprised?” said Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>“Not at all. When I went away, I felt that it would soon happen.”</p> + +<p>“That is to say, you had given your permission. I guessed as much.” And +though he exclaimed at the term, she found that it had been pretty much +the case.</p> + +<p>“On the evening before my going to London,” said he, “I made a +confession to him, which I believe I ought to have made long ago. I told +him of all that had occurred to make my former interference in his +affairs absurd and impertinent. His surprise was great. He had never had +the slightest suspicion. I told him, moreover, that I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_456">{456}</a></span> believed myself +mistaken in supposing, as I had done, that your sister was indifferent +to him; and as I could easily perceive that his attachment to her was +unabated, I felt no doubt of their happiness together.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth could not help smiling at his easy manner of directing his +friend.</p> + +<p>“Did you speak from your own observation,” said she, “when you told him +that my sister loved him, or merely from my information last spring?”</p> + +<p>“From the former. I had narrowly observed her, during the two visits +which I had lately made her here; and I was convinced of her affection.”</p> + +<p>“And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried immediate conviction to +him.”</p> + +<p>“It did. Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. His diffidence had +prevented his depending on his own judgment in so anxious a case, but +his reliance on mine made everything easy. I was obliged to confess one +thing, which for a time, and not unjustly, offended him. I could not +allow myself to conceal that your sister had been in town three months +last winter, that I had known it, and purposely kept it from him. He was +angry. But his anger, I am persuaded, lasted no longer than he remained +in any doubt of your sister’s sentiments. He has heartily forgiven me +now.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth longed to observe that Mr. Bingley had been a most delightful +friend; so easily guided that his worth was invaluable; but she checked +herself. She remembered that he had yet to learn to be laughed at, and +it was rather too early to begin. In anticipating the happiness of +Bingley, which of course was to be inferior only to his own, he +continued the conversation till they reached the house. In the hall they +parted.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_457">{457}</a></span></p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_LIX"></a><img src="images/i_486_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“Unable to utter a syllable.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER LIX.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +“<img src="images/i_486_b.png" +width="100" +alt="M"></span>Y dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to?” was a question +which Elizabeth received from Jane as soon as she entered the room, and +from all the others when they sat down to table. She had only to say in +reply, that<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_458">{458}</a></span> they had wandered about till she was beyond her own +knowledge. She coloured as she spoke; but neither that, nor anything +else, awakened a suspicion of the truth.</p> + +<p>The evening passed quietly, unmarked by anything extraordinary. The +acknowledged lovers talked and laughed; the unacknowledged were silent. +Darcy was not of a disposition in which happiness overflows in mirth; +and Elizabeth, agitated and confused, rather <i>knew</i> that she was happy +than <i>felt</i> herself to be so; for, besides the immediate embarrassment, +there were other evils before her. She anticipated what would be felt in +the family when her situation became known: she was aware that no one +liked him but Jane; and even feared that with the others it was a +<i>dislike</i> which not all his fortune and consequence might do away.</p> + +<p>At night she opened her heart to Jane. Though suspicion was very far +from Miss Bennet’s general habits, she was absolutely incredulous here.</p> + +<p>“You are joking, Lizzy. This cannot be! Engaged to Mr. Darcy! No, no, +you shall not deceive me: I know it to be impossible.”</p> + +<p>“This is a wretched beginning, indeed! My sole dependence was on you; +and I am sure nobody else will believe me, if you do not. Yet, indeed, I +am in earnest. I speak nothing but the truth. He still loves me, and we +are engaged.”</p> + +<p>Jane looked at her doubtingly. “Oh, Lizzy! it cannot be. I know how much +you dislike him.”</p> + +<p>“You know nothing of the matter. <i>That</i> is all to be forgot. Perhaps I +did not always love him so well as I do now; but in such cases as these +a good memory is unpardonable. This is the last time I shall ever +remember it myself.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_459">{459}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Miss Bennet still looked all amazement. Elizabeth again, and more +seriously, assured her of its truth.</p> + +<p>“Good heaven! can it be really so? Yet now I must believe you,” cried +Jane. “My dear, dear Lizzy, I would, I do congratulate you; but are you +certain—forgive the question—are you quite certain that you can be +happy with him?”</p> + +<p>“There can be no doubt of that. It is settled between us already that we +are to be the happiest couple in the world. But are you pleased, Jane? +Shall you like to have such a brother?”</p> + +<p>“Very, very much. Nothing could give either Bingley or myself more +delight. But we considered it, we talked of it as impossible. And do you +really love him quite well enough? Oh, Lizzy! do anything rather than +marry without affection. Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought +to do?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes! You will only think I feel <i>more</i> than I ought to do when I +tell you all.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I must confess that I love him better than I do Bingley. I am +afraid you will be angry.”</p> + +<p>“My dearest sister, now be, <i>be</i> serious. I want to talk very seriously. +Let me know everything that I am to know without delay. Will you tell me +how long you have loved him?”</p> + +<p>“It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began; +but I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds +at Pemberley.”</p> + +<p>Another entreaty that she would be serious, however, produced the +desired effect; and she soon satisfied Jane by her solemn assurances of +attachment. When convinced on that article, Miss Bennet had nothing +further to wish.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_460">{460}</a></span></p> + +<p>“Now I am quite happy,” said she, “for you will be as happy as myself. I +always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but his love of you, I +must always have esteemed him; but now, as Bingley’s friend and your +husband, there can be only Bingley and yourself more dear to me. But, +Lizzy, you have been very sly, very reserved with me. How little did you +tell me of what passed at Pemberley and Lambton! I owe all that I know +of it to another, not to you.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth told her the motives of her secrecy. She had been unwilling to +mention Bingley; and the unsettled state of her own feelings had made +her equally avoid the name of his friend: but now she would no longer +conceal from her his share in Lydia’s marriage. All was acknowledged, +and half the night spent in conversation.</p> + +<p>“Good gracious!” cried Mrs. Bennet, as she stood at a window the next +morning, “if that disagreeable Mr. Darcy is not coming here again with +our dear Bingley! What can he mean by being so tiresome as to be always +coming here? I had no notion but he would go a-shooting, or something or +other, and not disturb us with his company. What shall we do with him? +Lizzy, you must walk out with him again, that he may not be in Bingley’s +way.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth could hardly help laughing at so convenient a proposal; yet +was really vexed that her mother should be always giving him such an +epithet.</p> + +<p>As soon as they entered, Bingley looked at her so expressively, and +shook hands with such warmth, as left no doubt of his good information; +and he soon afterwards said aloud, “Mrs. Bennet, have you no more lanes +hereabouts in which Lizzy may lose her way again to-day?”</p> + +<p>“I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty,” said Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_461">{461}</a></span> Bennet, “to walk +to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk, and Mr. Darcy has +never seen the view.”</p> + +<p>“It may do very well for the others,” replied Mr. Bingley; “but I am +sure it will be too much for Kitty. Won’t it, Kitty?”</p> + +<p>Kitty owned that she had rather stay at home. Darcy professed a great +curiosity to see the view from the Mount, and Elizabeth silently +consented. As she went upstairs to get ready, Mrs. Bennet followed her, +saying,—</p> + +<p>“I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have that +disagreeable man all to yourself; but I hope you will not mind it. It is +all for Jane’s sake, you know; and there is no occasion for talking to +him except just now and then; so do not put yourself to inconvenience.”</p> + +<p>During their walk, it was resolved that Mr. Bennet’s consent should be +asked in the course of the evening: Elizabeth reserved to herself the +application for her mother’s. She could not determine how her mother +would take it; sometimes doubting whether all his wealth and grandeur +would be enough to overcome her abhorrence of the man; but whether she +were violently set against the match, or violently delighted with it, it +was certain that her manner would be equally ill adapted to do credit to +her sense; and she could no more bear that Mr. Darcy should hear the +first raptures of her joy, than the first vehemence of her +disapprobation.</p> + +<p>In the evening, soon after Mr. Bennet withdrew to the library, she saw +Mr. Darcy rise also and follow him, and her agitation on seeing it was +extreme. She did not fear her father’s opposition, but he was going to +be made unhappy, and that it should be through her means; that <i>she</i>, +his favourite child, should be distressing him by her choice, should be +filling him with fears and regrets in<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_462">{462}</a></span> disposing of her, was a wretched +reflection, and she sat in misery till Mr. Darcy appeared again, when, +looking at him, she was a little relieved by his smile. In a few minutes +he approached the table where she was sitting with Kitty; and, while +pretending to admire her work, said in a whisper, “Go to your father; he +wants you in the library.” She was gone directly.</p> + +<p>Her father was walking about the room, looking grave and anxious. +“Lizzy,” said he, “what are you doing? Are you out of your senses to be +accepting this man? Have not you always hated him?”</p> + +<p>How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had been more +reasonable, her expressions more moderate! It would have spared her from +explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give; +but they were now necessary, and she assured him, with some confusion, +of her attachment to Mr. Darcy.</p> + +<p>“Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be +sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine carriages than Jane. +But will they make you happy?”</p> + +<p>“Have you any other objection,” said Elizabeth, “than your belief of my +indifference?”</p> + +<p>“None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but +this would be nothing if you really liked him.”</p> + +<p>“I do, I do like him,” she replied, with tears in her eyes; “I love him. +Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not +know what he really is; then pray do not pain me by speaking of him in +such terms.”</p> + +<p>“Lizzy,” said her father, “I have given him my consent. He is the kind +of man, indeed, to whom I<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_463">{463}</a></span> should never dare refuse anything, which he +condescended to ask. I now give it to <i>you</i>, if you are resolved on +having him. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your +disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor +respectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband, unless you looked +up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the +greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape +discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing +<i>you</i> unable to respect your partner in life. You know not what you are +about.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in her reply; +and, at length, by repeated assurances that Mr. Darcy was really the +object of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her +estimation of him had undergone, relating her absolute certainty that +his affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many +months’ suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities, +she did conquer her father’s incredulity, and reconcile him to the +match.</p> + +<p>“Well, my dear,” said he, when she ceased speaking, “I have no more to +say. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could not have parted with +you, my Lizzy, to anyone less worthy.”</p> + +<p>To complete the favourable impression, she then told him what Mr. Darcy +had voluntarily done for Lydia. He heard her with astonishment.</p> + +<p>“This is an evening of wonders, indeed! And so, Darcy did everything; +made up the match, gave the money, paid the fellow’s debts, and got him +his commission! So much the better. It will save me a world of trouble +and economy. Had it been your uncle’s doing, I must and <i>would</i> have +paid him; but these violent<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_464">{464}</a></span> young lovers carry everything their own +way. I shall offer to pay him to-morrow, he will rant and storm about +his love for you, and there will be an end of the matter.”</p> + +<p>He then recollected her embarrassment a few days before on his reading +Mr. Collins’s letter; and after laughing at her some time, allowed her +at last to go, saying, as she quitted the room, “If any young men come +for Mary or Kitty, send them in, for I am quite at leisure.”</p> + +<p>Elizabeth’s mind was now relieved from a very heavy weight; and, after +half an hour’s quiet reflection in her own room, she was able to join +the others with tolerable composure. Everything was too recent for +gaiety, but the evening passed tranquilly away; there was no longer +anything material to be dreaded, and the comfort of ease and familiarity +would come in time.</p> + +<p>When her mother went up to her dressing-room at night, she followed her, +and made the important communication. Its effect was most extraordinary; +for, on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennet sat quite still, and unable to +utter a syllable. Nor was it under many, many minutes, that she could +comprehend what she heard, though not in general backward to credit what +was for the advantage of her family, or that came in the shape of a +lover to any of them. She began at length to recover, to fidget about in +her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder, and bless herself.</p> + +<p>“Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would +have thought it? And is it really true? Oh, my sweetest Lizzy! how rich +and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages +you will have! Jane’s is nothing to it—nothing at all. I am so +pleased—so happy. Such a charming man! so handsome! so tall! Oh, my +dear<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_465">{465}</a></span> Lizzy! pray apologize for my having disliked him so much before. I +hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Everything +that is charming! Three daughters married! Ten thousand a year! Oh, +Lord! what will become of me? I shall go distracted.”</p> + +<p>This was enough to prove that her approbation need not be doubted; and +Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusion was heard only by herself, +soon went away. But before she had been three minutes in her own room, +her mother followed her.</p> + +<p>“My dearest child,” she cried, “I can think of nothing else. Ten +thousand a year, and very likely more! ’Tis as good as a lord! And a +special licence—you must and shall be married by a special licence. +But, my dearest love, tell me what dish Mr. Darcy is particularly fond +of, that I may have it to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>This was a sad omen of what her mother’s behaviour to the gentleman +himself might be; and Elizabeth found that, though in the certain +possession of his warmest affection, and secure of her relations’ +consent, there was still something to be wished for. But the morrow +passed off much better than she expected; for Mrs. Bennet luckily stood +in such awe of her intended son-in-law, that she ventured not to speak +to him, unless it was in her power to offer him any attention, or mark +her deference for his opinion.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her father taking pains to get +acquainted with him; and Mr. Bennet soon assured her that he was rising +every hour in his esteem.</p> + +<p>“I admire all my three sons-in-law highly,” said he. “Wickham, perhaps, +is my favourite; but I think I shall like <i>your</i> husband quite as well +as Jane’s.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_466">{466}</a></span>”</p> + +<h2> +<a id="CHAPTER_LX"></a><img src="images/i_495_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +<br><span class="caption"> +“The obsequious civility.” +</span> +<br><br>CHAPTER LX.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_495_b.png" +width="100" +alt="E"></span>LIZABETH’S spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she wanted Mr. +Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. “How could +you begin?” said she. “I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when +you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first +place?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_467">{467}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which +laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I +knew that I <i>had</i> begun.”</p> + +<p>“My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners—my behaviour +to <i>you</i> was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke +to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now, be +sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?”</p> + +<p>“For the liveliness of your mind I did.”</p> + +<p>“You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was very little less. +The fact is, that you were sick of civility, of deference, of officious +attention. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking, +and looking, and thinking for <i>your</i> approbation alone. I roused and +interested you, because I was so unlike <i>them</i>. Had you not been really +amiable you would have hated me for it: but in spite of the pains you +took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always noble and just; and +in your heart you thoroughly despised the persons who so assiduously +courted you. There—I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it; +and really, all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly +reasonable. To be sure you know no actual good of me—but nobody thinks +of <i>that</i> when they fall in love.”</p> + +<p>“Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to Jane, while she was +ill at Netherfield?”</p> + +<p>“Dearest Jane! who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it +by all means. My good qualities are under your protection, and you are +to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me +to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may +be; and I shall begin directly, by asking you what made you so unwilling +to come to the point at last?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_468">{468}</a></span> What made you so shy of me, when you +first called, and afterwards dined here? Why, especially, when you +called, did you look as if you did not care about me?”</p> + +<p>“Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement.”</p> + +<p>“But I was embarrassed.”</p> + +<p>“And so was I.”</p> + +<p>“You might have talked to me more when you came to dinner.”</p> + +<p>“A man who had felt less might.”</p> + +<p>“How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer to give, and that +I should be so reasonable as to admit it! But I wonder how long you +<i>would</i> have gone on, if you had been left to yourself. I wonder when +you <i>would</i> have spoken if I had not asked you! My resolution of +thanking you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect. <i>Too +much</i>, I am afraid; for what becomes of the moral, if our comfort +springs from a breach of promise, for I ought not to have mentioned the +subject? This will never do.”</p> + +<p>“You need not distress yourself. The moral will be perfectly fair. Lady +Catherine’s unjustifiable endeavours to separate us were the means of +removing all my doubts. I am not indebted for my present happiness to +your eager desire of expressing your gratitude. I was not in a humour to +wait for an opening of yours. My aunt’s intelligence had given me hope, +and I was determined at once to know everything.”</p> + +<p>“Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to make her happy, +for she loves to be of use. But tell me, what did you come down to +Netherfield for? Was it merely to ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed? +or had you intended any more serious consequences?<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_469">{469}</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“My real purpose was to see <i>you</i>, and to judge, if I could, whether I +might ever hope to make you love me. My avowed one, or what I avowed to +myself, was to see whether your sister was still partial to Bingley, and +if she were, to make the confession to him which I have since made.”</p> + +<p>“Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady Catherine what is to +befall her?”</p> + +<p>“I am more likely to want time than courage, Elizabeth. But it ought to +be done; and if you will give me a sheet of paper it shall be done +directly.”</p> + +<p>“And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you, and +admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady once did. But +I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer neglected.”</p> + +<p>From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy with Mr. Darcy +had been overrated, Elizabeth had never yet answered Mrs. Gardiner’s +long letter; but now, having <i>that</i> to communicate which she knew would +be most welcome, she was almost ashamed to find that her uncle and aunt +had already lost three days of happiness, and immediately wrote as +follows:—</p> + +<p>“I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought to have done, +for your long, kind, satisfactory detail of particulars; but, to say the +truth, I was too cross to write. You supposed more than really existed. +But <i>now</i> suppose as much as you choose; give a loose to your fancy, +indulge your imagination in every possible flight which the subject will +afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot greatly +err. You must write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more +than you did in your last. I thank you again and again, for not going to +the Lakes. How could I be so<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_470">{470}</a></span> silly as to wish it! Your idea of the +ponies is delightful. We will go round the park every day. I am the +happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so +before, but no one with such justice. I am happier even than Jane; she +only smiles, I laugh. Mr. Darcy sends you all the love in the world that +can be spared from me. You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas. +Yours,” etc.</p> + +<p>Mr. Darcy’s letter to Lady Catherine was in a different style, and still +different from either was what Mr. Bennet sent to Mr. Collins, in return +for his last.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind"> “Dear Sir, </p> + +<p>“I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth will +soon be the wife of Mr. Darcy. Console Lady Catherine as well as +you can. But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has +more to give.</p> + +<p> +“Yours sincerely,” etc.<br> +</p></div> + +<p>Miss Bingley’s congratulations to her brother on his approaching +marriage were all that was affectionate and insincere. She wrote even to +Jane on the occasion, to express her delight, and repeat all her former +professions of regard. Jane was not deceived, but she was affected; and +though feeling no reliance on her, could not help writing her a much +kinder answer than she knew was deserved.</p> + +<p>The joy which Miss Darcy expressed on receiving similar information was +as sincere as her brother’s in sending it. Four sides of paper were +insufficient to contain all her delight, and all her earnest desire of +being loved by her sister.</p> + +<p>Before any answer could arrive from Mr. Collins, or any congratulations +to Elizabeth from his wife, the Longbourn family heard that the +Collinses were come themselves to Lucas Lodge. The reason of this +sudden<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_471">{471}</a></span> removal was soon evident. Lady Catherine had been rendered so +exceedingly angry by the contents of her nephew’s letter, that +Charlotte, really rejoicing in the match, was anxious to get away till +the storm was blown over. At such a moment, the arrival of her friend +was a sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, though in the course of their +meetings she must sometimes think the pleasure dearly bought, when she +saw Mr. Darcy exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility of her +husband. He bore it, however, with admirable calmness. He could even +listen to Sir William Lucas, when he complimented him on carrying away +the brightest jewel of the country, and expressed his hopes of their all +meeting frequently at St. James’s, with very decent composure. If he did +shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir William was out of sight.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Philips’s vulgarity was another, and, perhaps, a greater tax on his +forbearance; and though Mrs. Philips, as well as her sister, stood in +too much awe of him to speak with the familiarity which Bingley’s +good-humour encouraged; yet, whenever she <i>did</i> speak, she must be +vulgar. Nor was her respect for him, though it made her more quiet, at +all likely to make her more elegant. Elizabeth did all she could to +shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to +keep him to herself, and to those of her family with whom he might +converse without mortification; and though the uncomfortable feelings +arising from all this took from the season of courtship much of its +pleasure, it added to the hope of the future; and she looked forward +with delight to the time when they should be removed from society so +little pleasing to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their +family party at Pemberley.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_472">{472}</a></span></p> + +<h2><a id="CHAPTER_LXI"></a><img src="images/i_501_a.jpg" +width="450" +alt=""> +<br><br>CHAPTER LXI.</h2> + +<p class="nind"><span class="letra"> +<img src="images/i_501_b.png" +width="100" +alt="H"></span>APPY for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs. Bennet got +rid of her two most deserving daughters. With what delighted pride she +afterwards visited Mrs. Bingley, and talked of Mrs. Darcy, may be +guessed. I wish I could say, for the sake of her family, that the +accomplishment of her earnest desire in the establishment of so many of +her children produced so happy an effect as to make her a sensible, +amiable, well-informed woman for the rest of her life; though, perhaps, +it was lucky for her husband, who might not have relished domestic +felicity in so unusual a form, that she still was occasionally nervous +and invariably silly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bennet missed his second daughter exceedingly; his affection for her +drew him oftener from home than anything else could do. He delighted in +going to Pemberley, especially when he was least expected.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_473">{473}</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield only a twelvemonth. So near +a vicinity to her mother and Meryton relations was not desirable even to +<i>his</i> easy temper, or <i>her</i> affectionate heart. The darling wish of his +sisters was then gratified: he bought an estate in a neighbouring county +to Derbyshire; and Jane and Elizabeth, in addition to every other source +of happiness, were within thirty miles of each other.</p> + +<p>Kitty, to her very material advantage, spent the chief of her time with +her two elder sisters. In society so superior to what she had generally +known, her improvement was great. She was not of so ungovernable a +temper as Lydia; and, removed from the influence of Lydia’s example, she +became, by proper attention and management, less irritable, less +ignorant, and less insipid. From the further disadvantage of Lydia’s +society she was of course carefully kept; and though Mrs. Wickham +frequently invited her to come and stay with her, with the promise of +balls and young men, her father would never consent to her going.</p> + +<p>Mary was the only daughter who remained at home; and she was necessarily +drawn from the pursuit of accomplishments by Mrs. Bennet’s being quite +unable to sit alone. Mary was obliged to mix more with the world, but +she could still moralize over every morning visit; and as she was no +longer mortified by comparisons between her sisters’ beauty and her own, +it was suspected by her father that she submitted to the change without +much reluctance.</p> + +<p>As for Wickham and Lydia, their characters suffered no revolution from +the marriage of her sisters. He bore with philosophy the conviction that +Elizabeth must now become acquainted with whatever of his ingratitude +and<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_474">{474}</a></span> falsehood had before been unknown to her; and, in spite of +everything, was not wholly without hope that Darcy might yet be +prevailed on to make his fortune. The congratulatory letter which +Elizabeth received from Lydia on her marriage explained to her that, by +his wife at least, if not by himself, such a hope was cherished. The +letter was to this effect:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="nind"> “My dear Lizzy, </p> + +<p>“I wish you joy. If you love Mr. Darcy half so well as I do my dear +Wickham, you must be very happy. It is a great comfort to have you +so rich; and when you have nothing else to do, I hope you will +think of us. I am sure Wickham would like a place at court very +much; and I do not think we shall have quite money enough to live +upon without some help. Any place would do of about three or four +hundred a year; but, however, do not speak to Mr. Darcy about it, +if you had rather not.</p> + +<p class="rt"> +“Yours,” etc.<br> +</p></div> + +<p>As it happened that Elizabeth had much rather not, she endeavoured in +her answer to put an end to every entreaty and expectation of the kind. +Such relief, however, as it was in her power to afford, by the practice +of what might be called economy in her own private expenses, she +frequently sent them. It had always been evident to her that such an +income as theirs, under the direction of two persons so extravagant in +their wants, and heedless of the future, must be very insufficient to +their support; and whenever they changed their quarters, either Jane or +herself were sure of being applied to for some little assistance towards +discharging their bills. Their manner of living, even when the +restoration of peace dismissed them to a home, was unsettled in the +extreme. They were always moving from place to place<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_475">{475}</a></span> in quest of a +cheap situation, and always spending more than they ought. His affection +for her soon sunk into indifference: hers lasted a little longer; and, +in spite of her youth and her manners, she retained all the claims to +reputation which her marriage had given her. Though Darcy could never +receive <i>him</i> at Pemberley, yet, for Elizabeth’s sake, he assisted him +further in his profession. Lydia was occasionally a visitor there, when +her husband was gone to enjoy himself in London or Bath; and with the +Bingleys they both of them frequently stayed so long, that even +Bingley’s good-humour was overcome, and he proceeded so far as to <i>talk</i> +of giving them a hint to be gone.</p> + +<p>Miss Bingley was very deeply mortified by Darcy’s marriage; but as she +thought it advisable to retain the right of visiting at Pemberley, she +dropped all her resentment; was fonder than ever of Georgiana, almost as +attentive to Darcy as heretofore, and paid off every arrear of civility +to Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>Pemberley was now Georgiana’s home; and the attachment of the sisters +was exactly what Darcy had hoped to see. They were able to love each +other, even as well as they intended. Georgiana had the highest opinion +in the world of Elizabeth; though at first she often listened with an +astonishment bordering on alarm at her lively, sportive manner of +talking to her brother. He, who had always inspired in herself a respect +which almost overcame her affection, she now saw the object of open +pleasantry. Her mind received knowledge which had never before fallen in +her way. By Elizabeth’s instructions she began to comprehend that a +woman may take liberties with her husband, which a brother will not +always allow in a sister more than ten years younger than himself.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_476">{476}</a></span></p> + +<p>Lady Catherine was extremely indignant on the marriage of her nephew; +and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her character, in +her reply to the letter which announced its arrangement, she sent him +language so very abusive, especially of Elizabeth, that for some time +all intercourse was at an end. But at length, by Elizabeth’s persuasion, +he was prevailed on to overlook the offence, and seek a reconciliation; +and, after a little further resistance on the part of his aunt, her +resentment gave way, either to her affection for him, or her curiosity +to see how his wife conducted herself; and she condescended to wait on +them at Pemberley, in spite of that pollution which its woods had +received, not merely from the presence of such a mistress, but the +visits of her uncle and aunt from the city.</p> + +<p>With the Gardiners they were always on the most intimate terms. Darcy, +as well as Elizabeth, really loved them; and they were both ever +sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing +her into Derbyshire, had been the means of uniting them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 345px;"> +<img src="images/i_505.jpg" width="345" height="550" alt="[Image unavailable.]"> +</div> + +<p class="fint"> +CHISWICK PRESS:—CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.<br> +TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.<br> +</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1342 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt index 6312041..b5dba15 100644 --- a/LICENSE.txt +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -1,4 +1,4 @@ -This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. @@ -7,5 +7,5 @@ the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. 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