passage
stringlengths 43
2.05k
| id
int64 0
1.25k
| author
stringclasses 6
values | title
stringclasses 6
values | gutenberg_source_id
int64 11
67.1k
|
|---|---|---|---|---|
“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.{153}”
“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. | 200 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{154}
CHAPTER XXII.
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{155} 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 | 201 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{156}
[Image unavailable.]
“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. | 202 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
James’s. The whole family in short were properly overjoyed on the
occasion. The younger girls formed{157} 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{158} to see any of | 203 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{159}”
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. | 204 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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?{160}”
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 | 205 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{161}
[Image unavailable.]
“Protested he must be entirely mistaken.”
CHAPTER XXIII.
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{162} 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?” | 206 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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,{163} 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 | 207 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{164} 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 | 208 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{165} 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 | 209 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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,{166} 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.
[Image unavailable.]
“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{167}
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 | 210 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{168}
CHAPTER XXIV.
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.{169}
Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief of all this, | 211 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{170} 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 | 212 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{171} 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 | 213 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{172} 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, | 214 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{173} 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 | 215 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{174} 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 | 216 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{175}
CHAPTER XXV.
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,{176} 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 | 217 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{177} 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.”
[Image unavailable.]
“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.{178} 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 | 218 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{179}”
“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 | 219 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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,{180} 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. | 220 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{181}
[Image unavailable.]
“Will you come and see me.”
CHAPTER XXVI.
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 | 221 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{182} 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 con{183}scious smile; “very
true, it will be wise in me to refrain from that. But do not imagine | 222 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{184}
“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 | 223 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{185}
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 | 224 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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:{186}—
“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 | 225 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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,{187} 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 | 226 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{188} 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 | 227 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{189}”
[Image unavailable.]
“On the Stairs.”
CHAPTERXXVII.
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,{190} 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. | 228 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{191}
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 | 229 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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,{192} 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?” | 230 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
“Her not objecting does not justify him. It only shows her being
deficient in something herself—sense or feeling.{193}”
“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.{194}”
[Image unavailable.] | 231 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
“At the door.”
CHAPTERXXVIII.
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{195} 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 | 232 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{196} 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 | 233 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{197} 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 | 234 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{198} 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,—
[Image unavailable.]
“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.{199}”
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.” | 235 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{200}
[Image unavailable.]
“Lady Catherine, said she, you have given me a treasure.”
CHAPTER XXIX.
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{201} 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 | 236 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{202} 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 | 237 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{203} 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 | 238 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{204}
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 | 239 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{205} 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.{206}”
“What, none of you?” | 240 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
“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{207} 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?” | 241 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
“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.{208}”
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. | 242 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{209}
CHAPTER XXX.
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.{210} 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 | 243 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{211}
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.
[Image unavailable.]
“he never failed to inform them”
The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated about twice a week; | 244 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
and, allowing for the loss of Sir William, and there being only one
card-table in the{212} 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{213}
[Image unavailable.]
“The gentlemen accompanied him.” | 245 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
[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{214} 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?” | 246 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{215}
CHAPTER XXXI.
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{216} 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 | 247 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{217}
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.” | 248 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{218} 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. | 249 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
“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{219} 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{220} 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.” | 250 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{221}
CHAPTER XXXII.
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{222} 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. | 251 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{223} 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 | 252 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{224} 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.” | 253 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{225} 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.
[Image unavailable.]
“Accompanied by their aunt”
[Copyright 1894 by George Allen.]
{226}
“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 | 254 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{227} 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 | 255 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{228}
[Image unavailable.]
“On looking up.”
CHAPTER XXXIII.
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{229} third
rencounter 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, | 256 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{230} 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 | 257 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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,{231}—
“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 | 258 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
those points where he most wants care.{232} 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?{233}”
“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 | 259 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{234}
“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, | 260 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{235}
CHAPTER XXXIV.
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,{236} 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 | 261 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{237} 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 | 262 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{238} 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 | 263 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{239} 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. | 264 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{240} 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 | 265 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{241} 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.{242}”
“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 | 266 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{243}
[Image unavailable.]
“Hearing herself called.”
CHAPTER XXXV.
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, | 267 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{244} 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 | 268 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{245}
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 | 269 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment. I had often seen him
in love before. At that ball, while I had{246} 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{247} other causes of repugnance; causes | 270 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{248} 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 | 271 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{249}
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 | 272 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{250} 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 | 273 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{251} 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 | 274 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{252} 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 | 275 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.”
{253}
CHAPTER XXXVI.
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{254} 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 | 276 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{255} 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 | 277 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{256}
[Image unavailable.]
“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 | 278 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{257} 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 | 279 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
herself; but that after their removal, it had been everywhere discussed;
that he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinking Mr. Darc{258}y’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{259} Darcy nor Wickham | 280 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{260} 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 | 281 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{261}
“His parting obeisance.”
CHAPTER XXXVII.
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, | 282 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
importing that she felt herself so dull as to make her very desirous of
having them all to dine with her.{262}
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{263} 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.”
[Image unavailable.]
“Dawson” | 283 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
[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,{264} 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{265} believed to be lucky for her; or, with a | 284 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{266} 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. | 285 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{267}
[Image unavailable.]
“The elevation of his feelings.”
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
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 | 286 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{268} 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{269} into
Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself, at least, that you will | 287 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{270}
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.
[Image unavailable.] | 288 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
“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.{271}
“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.{272}
[Image unavailable.]
“How nicely we are crammed in.”
CHAPTER XXXIX.
IT was the second week in May, in which the three young ladies set out | 289 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{273} 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 | 290 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
regiment of militia, and the monthly balls of Meryton!{274}”
“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.{275}
“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 | 291 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{276} 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 | 292 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{277} 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 | 293 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{278}
CHAPTER XL.
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.{279}”
“Indeed,” replied Elizabeth, “I am heartily sorry for him; but he has
other feelings which will probably soon drive away his regard for me. | 294 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{280} 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.” | 295 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
“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{281} 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 | 296 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{282} 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 | 297 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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{283} 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.”
[Image unavailable.]
“I am determined never to speak of it again”
{284}
“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 | 298 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |
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.{285}”
[Image unavailable.]
“When Colonel Miller’s regiment went.”
CHAPTER XLI.
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,{286} 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 | 299 | Jane Austen | Pride and Prejudice | 1,342 |